Vera meets me at Rhubarb for coffee at three. When she steps onto the patio, I wave but don’t stop yammering into my phone. By the time her cappuccino arrives, though, I’ve hung up and crossed another name off my list.

I sigh and slump back in my chair. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, looks like. No luck?”

“I wrangled up a whopping two thousand.” I crumple the piece of paper with thirty names on it, all but one crossed out.

“Time to call your brother?” she asks softly.

I nod, dialing Alex before I can talk myself out of it. He answers on the third ring. “Little sis, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“How’s your donating this year?”

He pauses. “Pretty maxed out, actually. What do you need?”

“Fifteen.”

I hear a low, indistinct voice in the background. Alex says, “Hang on, Candace.” His hand mutes sound, but I hear him speaking with someone. Maybe Thea? Thirty seconds pass, then, “Still there?”

“Yes.”

“Sebastian says he’ll handle it. He’ll drop off a check. When do you need it?”

My scalp prickles. “Sebastian’s there right now?”

“Yeah, he came down this morning. Do you need the money tonight?”

I glance at Vera, who’s watching me with interest. With calm I don’t feel, I say, “Yes. Tell him I’ll be home all night. Have him make it out to Charity House.”

Vera’s eyes narrow.

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Alex. Gotta go.” I hang up and immediately beg Vera, “Come over tonight.”

She shakes her head. “Sorry, hon, I can’t. I promised Serefina we’d do dinner.”

I frown. “That name has to be fake. She’d better not be putting the moves on my best friend.”

She laughs. “As if. She’s just a lonely model in a big city. I think of her as my personal charity case.”

I drag a hand over my face. “Fuck.”

“You’re really in knots about this, aren’t you?” she asks softly.

“No,” I say, then repeat it more convincingly. “No. It's fine. He’ll drop off the check and leave.”

Vera takes a dainty sip of her coffee. “If you say so.”

I stall as long as I possibly can, drinking two more coffees I don’t need. Vera finally tells me I’m being a baby and need to get my ass home. I wish her a fabulous dinner and food poisoning, then do as she says.

When I pull into my driveway, the sun is low in the sky, shadowing the front of the house. It isn’t until the automatic headlights blink on that I see the man standing on my doorstep holding a dozen long-stemmed red roses.

Thoughts of Sebastian are momentarily banished.

I forego the garage and park near the path connecting the driveway to the front door. Keys and purse dangling from one hand, I walk briskly toward him.

“Robert? What are you doing here?”

The closer I get, the clearer his conciliatory expression becomes. With his big brown eyes, he looks like a hurt puppy. A Ralph Lauren-wearing, yacht-owning puppy.

“Can we talk?” he asks softly.

I glance at the flowers. I should tell him to get lost, but can’t. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the genuine regret in his eyes. Or maybe the chorus of my brothers’ voiced concerns is finally breaching my hard head. I don’t like that Deacon calls me a man-eater, or that Charles thinks I’m commitment phobic.

And I really don’t like that I slept with two men in two days.

I nod. “Sure, come on in.”

Robert moves out of the way so I can open the door. I step inside, turn off the beeping alarm, and drop my purse on a side table. He follows me into the kitchen, where I pull open the refrigerator.

Turning, I ask, “Want something to drink?”

He shakes his head and offers me the flowers. I blink at them like an idiot until he sighs, laying them down on a counter.

“I need to apologize, Candace.”

“Really, Rob, it’s not a big deal.”

I busy myself with pouring a glass of water. My hands are shaking. Caffeine swims fast in my blood, making me feel like I’m filled with bees. Or you’re having a panic attack, suggests my inner therapist.

“I was trying to make you jealous.”

I almost drop my glass. After carefully setting it down, I give him my full attention. Or try to. For some reason, it’s incredibly difficult to meet his gaze.

“That woman, Jessica, is an old friend,” he continues. “I asked her to pretend like she was flirting with me. I wanted you to notice, to get mad. It was childish and obviously backfired. I should have called you and explained, but I was embarrassed. And hurt. I got drunk instead.”

I try to think of something to say, and come up with, “Okay.” I’m actually incredibly impressed by his honesty.

Robert grimaces, pulling a hand through his hair. “I know we’ve only been dating a few weeks and haven’t talked about exclusivity or anything, but I… I think you’re fantastic. You’re smart, funny, and sexy. I enjoy being around you. I want to be around you more.”

A sick, twisted feeling takes hold of my gut. And it’s not too much coffee. He’s telling me he cares about me. And while he was hurt and drunk, I slept with Sebastian like he meant nothing.

Does he mean nothing?

I look hard at him, past the polished good looks, the soft eyes. I think about his sweetness and gentleness. Robert is truly Old School—chivalrous, raised to respect and adore women. He’s been nothing but solicitous, charming, and generous.

Do I care about him? I don’t know. And then it hits me—I never tried to care about him. Because all these years, I’ve still been waiting. For Sebastian. Fucking fuck.

Robert takes a quick step forward. “Darling, are you crying?”

I sniff and wipe hard at my eyes. “Maybe. I guess. Thank you, Rob, for telling me that.”

He gazes at me with concern, one hand half-raised. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do anything.”

I blink past the hazy filter of tears. “I was pissed when I saw you with that woman. Jealous, I guess. But, Robert, it doesn’t matter. The bottom line is that you deserve a better woman than me. I can’t give you what you want.”

He takes another step, expression intent. “You don’t know what I want.”

My lips twitch. “Okay, sorry.”

He shakes his head; the sunset glows in his eyes, turning them almost amber. “I want you, Candace Hughes. However much you’re willing to give me.”

Alarm bells sound in my head. He wants commitment! Commitment! I begin shaking my head, but he reaches out to capture my face in his hands.

“Do we have a good time together? Do we laugh a lot, have good conversations?”

“Yes,” I admit.

He smiles softly. “How about we just leave it at that for now? We keep having a good time, and I keep trying to give you that elusive orgasm.” Heat floods my face and he chuckles. “You’re not as good at faking it as you think.”

I shut my eyes in embarrassment, which is immediately compounded by memory of four recent orgasms. “I’m sorry, Rob.” And I’m apologizing for more than faked orgasms.

His thumbs gently brush my jaw. “You’re forgiven. And unless you’re going to dump me right now, no more overnights with Sebastian Bellizzi.”

My eyes pop open as the blood drains from my head. “What?” I whisper.

His lips thin, but his eyes stay warm. “I might have come to your house late last night and seen his motorcycle.”

I try to pull away but he draws me forward instead, wrapping his arms around me. I mumble into his chest, “I think I’d like to die right now…”

To my utter shock, he chuckles. “I made my own bed, Candace. I know you wouldn’t have slept with him if I hadn’t fucked up royally on Friday.”

He’s right—I may be a serial dater, but I’ve never cheated on anyone.

I mumble, “Are you going for Best Boyfriend of the Year or something?”

He leans back fast, grinning broadly. “Boyfriend?”

I fight a sudden feeling that I’m sinking into quicksand. Tell him no. Take it back. But instead, I look into his eyes and say, “If that’s what you want.”

“Definitely,” he says quickly, and kisses me hard. Hard enough that my skin hums and my toes curl. It’s not Sebastian’s barely leashed aggression, but it isn’t unpleasant. Not by a long shot. I make a little noise of enjoyment as his fingers sink into my ass, pulling me roughly against him.

Robert murmurs against my lips, “Interesting.”

“Huh?”

He just shakes his head and kisses me again. Even harder this time, his teeth scraping against mine, his tongue forcefully penetrating. Hard arms lock around me, pulling me into his chest. One hand fists in my hair and I whimper.

“And here I thought you wanted me gentle,” he whispers.

Ah, that’s what he meant. On the heels of that thought is another: Interesting.

* * *

When the doorbell rings, Robert stands immediately from the couch. I’d told him that Sebastian was coming over with a check for one of my charities. I don’t say anything at his presumption, just watch him stride to the door and open it. I barely resist covering my face with a throw pillow. Instead, I stare out the dark windows, imagining the rush and pull of waves on the nearby beach.

I hear Sebastian’s angry voice, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

And Robert’s calm response, “We’ve worked things out. Move on.”

“Candace!” shouts Sebastian. “I know you’re in there. Talk to me! Don’t do this!”

The words make me angry. So fucking angry that I leap from the couch and stalk to the front door. Robert glances back worriedly as I approach, but when he sees my expression he simply pushes the door open wider.

“Get lost, Bast,” I snarl. “Last night was a huge mistake. I have no idea why, but Robert has seen it in his heart to forgive me.”

Midnight eyes blaze with rage, so much that I step back into Robert’s chest. Sebastian growls, “There’s nothing to forgive. We didn’t do anything wrong last night. It was right. So fucking right. Why can’t you admit that?”

“Because I don’t want you!” I yell. More horrible words roll onto my tongue—I clench my teeth against them. I don’t want to hurt Sebastian. Not really. I just want the years of longing and addiction to end. I want to move forward.

“You’re serious,” he croaks.

The rawness in his face and tone causes my heart to jackknife. The look in his eyes… No, it can’t be. And then it’s gone, his mask slamming into place.

His gaze fixes on Robert. I flinch, expecting the worst, but he says, “If you hurt her, I’ll grind you to dust.” With a flick of his wrist, a check flutters to the ground, then he turns and strides away.

Robert and I stand silently together until the roar of his motorcycle fades. At length, he says in a strained voice, “I take it you two have a history beyond last night?”

Stiffening, I look up at him. “Yes. Rob, I understand if—”

“Not a fucking chance,” he says, and grabs me around the waist, lifting me up and carrying me back inside.