Matt showed up on Monday for cooking class, Three Ways to Make Chicken Soup Amazing for Cold Season!, and spent the whole time colouring with Emily. Natasha wondered if anyone could tell they’d made out Saturday night, or if the scorching memory was her deliciously dirty little secret.

Their secret, really, but Matt was on his best friends-only behaviour for the entire class. Then they had to skip the park because it was raining. Tasha felt weird inviting him back to her sister’s place, but Matt didn’t skip a beat. He said a quick goodbye to them in the bistro where that week’s class had been held and promised to text soon.

He sent his first message before she got home.

She waited until Emily had disappeared into the living room, then she leaned back against the wall in the entranceway and let herself blush.

He sent a picture of himself, parked in his truck, with his arm flexed in the foreground.

She laughed. It should be too much, too fast, like the mistakes of her past. But it only felt good and right, and she found herself taking a quick selfie to send back.

They spent the rest of the week exchanging text messages. Definitely flirty, definitely not just friends, but zero pressure.

Which was good, because the closer she got to Thanksgiving, the more worked up Natasha got about David’s sudden desire to be a part of Emily’s life.

She also had a house to find, but nothing had come close to the one in Wiarton. More than once she’d thought about ways she could stretch her budget to make it work, before convincing herself that the right house at the right price would eventually pop onto her radar and the waiting would pay off.

By the time Sunday night rolled around, she’d shifted her real estate browsing to the rental listings. It was good that Bailey’s wasn’t busy, what with everyone traveling and prepping for Thanksgiving, because she was in a weird mood.

She wasn’t sure what she was trying to do by looking at apartments for rent. She didn’t want that.

Her sister was right.

She should dream big. An inn had been her dream before Emily was born. It was time she embraced it again.

Putting away her phone, she pulled out the notebook she’d stashed under the bar. She still worried she was letting her impetuous heart make a terrible decision because it sounded exciting, but that worry didn’t have any foundation, so she let the fear drift away as quickly as it puffed to life. The more she planned, the more lists she wrote, the more confident she got that this could actually work.

She just needed to find the right place.

It’s in Wiarton, and still on the market.

When the door chimed, she shoved her notebook under the bar and straightened up with a welcoming smile on her face.

Speaking of terrible decisions, this one was wearing four-hundred-dollar jeans and a smooth smile.

“David,” she said as she leaned back. “You’re fifteen hours early, and in the wrong place.”

Her ex shrugged. “We decided to drive up tonight instead of tomorrow morning.”

“We?” She exaggerated her curious glance at the empty space on either side of him. “You seem very much alone at the moment.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Okay, I’ll ask straight-up. Where's your girlfriend? If you’re here, I might as well meet her before she meets Emily.”

He just shrugged again, because he was an asshole like that, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. “Why are you here tonight? Do you want a drink?”

He shook his head. “She’s waiting in the car.”

She. Did he even hear himself? “That’s…weird.”

“We had a long drive and I knew this stop wouldn’t take long.”

“Gotcha. And do I get to know her name before tomorrow?”

A ruddy stain darkened his cheekbones. “Sable.”

That’s not a real name. Good lord, her conscience was catty. “Tell Sable I look forward to meeting her.”

“I will.” He hesitated again. “Do you think, since we’re here early, we could take Emily for a few hours tomorrow? We’d stay close.”

Her heart lurched in her chest, but then she nodded, knowing there was only one answer. “Uh…yes.” Except, no no no no. Not before she met Sable. And also, Emily needed time to warm up to both of them.

It had been months since she’d seen David, although Natasha did her best to keep him present in her daughter’s mind. She had a couple of pictures of him on her phone and Emily liked to look at them—asked often enough for Tasha to keep trying to build a bond where one clearly didn’t exist.

And she’d try again tomorrow, because her daughter deserved a relationship with her father. “Or maybe, since we’re eating early, you could have the time after dessert until bedtime?”

“Which is eight o’clock.”

She nodded, relieved he remembered this time. “That’s right.”

“Thanks.” He gave her a tight smile, then left.

Her hands shook as she wiped down the bar. It was only a few hours, and probably just to impress a woman. Don’t use my baby like that, she wanted to scream. But for better or worse, Emily was his baby, too. Regardless of his reasons, as long as he was a responsible grown-up and didn’t hurt her, Natasha couldn’t say no to visitation.

Instead of reaching for her notebook again, she thought about grabbing a bottle of rye. Then she thought better of both of those options and grabbed her phone.

Just like that. She didn’t even need to ask him. She sagged against the bar in relief.

Private. God, yes.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her phone to her chest, barely able to contain the ridiculous glee rioting through her body.

It really was a terrible idea.

And she couldn’t wait.

The next day, David and Sable showed up right on time. They brought wine, and Sable—who was exactly as young as Natasha expected—brought Emily a stuffed bear. But she seemed nice enough, and got right down at Em’s level to say a quiet, tentative hello. David was awkward with Meredith and Dan, who barely managed to contain their disdain when it was only adults in the room.

By previous agreement, none of them told David about the upcoming move. She felt a flash of guilt about that, but it went away when he talked about working ninety-hour weeks now that he was trying to make partner. It wasn’t her job to bend her life around his. And he’d opted out of hers as soon as she’d told him she was pregnant.

Mer outdid herself with the feast, and the kids were mercifully on their best behaviour—especially Emily, who could have acted out. But after her initial quietness, she was curious about Sable in a sweet way, and David’s girlfriend answered every single question the three-year-old threw at her. When the topic of going to the park with her dad came up, Emily nodded enthusiastically, blissfully unaware of any tension Natasha felt.

It didn’t make the ache in her chest go away at all, but it made it more manageable.

Still, Tasha let out a sigh of relief when they cleared the dessert plates from the table.

There was a bit more small talk, but it didn’t take long for Sable to poke David, and David to clear his throat. “We should get going, then. We’ll bring her back around eight?”

Natasha nodded. “Text me if you’re going to be earlier than that, though, because I’m going out for a few hours.”

She ignored the question in David’s eyes. It was none of his business.

She knelt next to Emily so she could zip up her daughter’s fall jacket. “You have a great time, okay?”

“Okay.” Emily wrapped her arms around Tasha’s neck and squeezed. “Love you, Mommy.”

“Love you too, baby. So much.” She followed them outside and carefully watched as David buckled their daughter into a brand-new carseat.

As soon as they were gone, she dashed downstairs. She checked her hair, fixed her makeup, and changed her top three times before putting on the same fitted flannel shirt she’d worn earlier.

Meredith gave her a knowing wink on the way out the door, and her cheeks heated up.

Matt went back and forth on whether or not to tell Dani and Jake he’d be skipping the big Foster-Minelli-Howard dinner at their place. He ended up going over there mid-day.

Dani hollered for him to let himself in when he knocked, and he found her in the kitchen, prepping the turkey to go in the oven.

“Where’s my brother?” Matt asked as he snagged a carrot slice from the cutting board.

She waved her chef’s knife at him. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Answering a question with a question, interesting tactic.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s in the backyard with Calvin, trying to teach him how to play soccer.”

“Seriously?” The baby was eleven months old.

“Dead serious. You should go and help. Or stay here and help. Do you want to roll dough for the apple pie?”

“Uh…” He stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Yeah, I’ll help here first.”

She gave him a curious look as she handed him the rolling pin, then fetched a chilled ball of dough from the fridge. “What’s going on?”

“I actually came by to say that I wouldn’t be staying for dinner.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows jogged north, then she shrugged. “Okay.”

“You aren’t interested in knowing why?”

She made a confused frown. “Do you want me to know why?”

“I don’t know.” He huffed out a breath as she laughed at him and pointed to the pie dish on the island. “Hey, I didn’t come here to be mocked.”

“Sure you did. Now make me an apple pie, kiddo.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Not in spirit. Roll. And tell me where you’re going.”

“To see a woman.”

She groaned. “Matt, seriously? That couldn’t wait until later? I thought it was a work thing. Something interesting.”

“Hey!”

That got him a snort. “Your dating life isn’t interesting in the least. It’s predictable and dirty and not really something I want to spend any time thinking about.”

“Whoa.” His tone was sharper than he meant, and Dani heard it.

She held up her hand. “Sorry. That was too much.”

“Little bit.” He dragged in a deep breath. “This woman is different.”

“Yeah?” She searched his face, then her expression softened into a smile. “Good. It’s about time you meet someone who’s good for you.”

“There was nothing wrong with anyone else I dated.”

“Dating is a generous term for what you usually do.”

Now it was his turn to groan. “Fair point, but this woman…” He thought of Natasha. Of Emily, and cooking classes, and last week at the bar. Of what he wanted to do today. “This really is different. I’m taking things slow. This will be the fourth time I’ve seen her, and I’m really looking forward to it.”

Dani nodded. “That’s great, Matt. Truly.”

“She’s a single mom.”

His sister-in-law didn’t blink. “Cool.”

It was an opening to a bigger, messier conversation, but now that he was standing here, he realized it wasn’t his opening to take. Not yet.

He focused on finishing the pie crust, then slid it over to her. “Tell my brother for me, okay?”

She frowned. “You sure you don’t want to go out back?”

“Nah,” he found himself saying. “I’ve gotta get going.”

He headed back to his place and got ready, then texted Natasha instructions on where to meet him.

When she arrived at the rural community centre ten minutes outside town, he was sitting on the tailgate of his truck. He hopped down as she parked her Jeep, eager to see her and give her a hug. Her texts the night before had spurred him to find just the right place to escape from her worry for a bit. He’d reached out to a couple of Army guys who lived in the area and asked for their best tips for a private, hidden date spot anywhere near Port Elgin.

This was a total win. The weather had been good to him, too. It was a gorgeous afternoon, sunny and bright. They could spend hours exploring the wild apple orchard behind the centre, and they’d probably have it all to themselves.

Like him, Natasha was dressed for the outdoors. Jeans that hugged her thighs, hiking boots on her feet, and a warm looking flannel shirt wrapped around her curves.

But the best part was the smile she gave him as they met beside her car. Like he was all she could see, all she wanted to see, and everything she needed right in this moment.

God damn, but that was a good feeling. “Hi,” he said, grinning back at her. “I found us a place to explore.”

“Amazing.”

“We’re all alone,” he added.

“Even better.” She laughed and stepped closer, reaching for him. The hug they shared was warm and long, getting tighter as they fit their bodies together. And if he hadn’t felt her little exhale at the end, a little hint of frustration, he might have tried to kiss her, too.

But they had the whole afternoon for that.

Natasha hadn’t realized how much she’d needed that hug until Matt wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tight. It had been quite the day so far, and she’d had to keep so many feelings in close check in front of David and Sable.

Matt turned them toward his truck, where he grabbed a Thermos and a blanket from the bed before closing the tailgate. He gestured around the back of the building. “Apple theme. I brought hot cider, and there’s a secret orchard here, apparently. A bit of a walk back.”

A blanket.

An apple orchard.

Cider in a single Thermos.

Matt Foster was slick. And the way he grinned at her made her feel way too good inside.

“Does that sound good?”

She found herself close to giggling. Yes, yes it sounded amazing. She gave him a warm-cheeked smile. “Sure.”

They fell into step together, walking side-by-side, hands almost brushing. On the other side of the community centre stood an overgrown garden, and on the other side of that, the twisted branches of fruit trees called to them.

The orchard had a well-worn path through it, although the trees got wilder the further back they went. All were heavy with small fruit.

Matt reached up and snagged one and held it out. “Want to try?”

Tasha took it, well aware of the little sizzle of energy that jolted up her arm as their fingers touched. “I think it’s probably too tart. Wild apples usually are.”

He reached for the apple. “I’ll eat it.”

She jerked her hand back. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t eat it.”

He stepped closer, a teasing smile lighting up his eyes. “Take a bite, then.”

“I will.” She brought the apple to her lips, then paused. “Although it might be better to save this to make crabapple jelly.”

Laughing, Matt leaned in. “That particular one?”

“Yes,” Natasha whispered, playing along. “So I can’t eat it. Unfortunately. I was really looking forward to trying it.”

“I can pick you another.” His eyes sparkled in the sun. Dark brown with warm hazel flecks.

“I can pick my own,” she murmured. Twisting, she pulled an apple from the trees and passed it to him. Another glancing touch, another jolt of awareness. “Here,” she said. “Try it. It’s tasty.”

He put it to his mouth, then stopped. “You didn’t try yours.”

She grinned and started walking again. “Didn’t I? Hmm.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him take a big bite, his cheeks puckering as the sourness hit his tongue. Laughter shook her body as he tried not to react further.

“Tasty indeed,” he finally said, bumping his arm against hers.

She turned her hand around and laced their fingers together. Another baby step, like inviting him to spend the afternoon with her.

“So you know how to make crabapple jelly?”

“Sure.” She knew how to find and follow and adjust recipes, anyway.

“What other secret talents do you have?”

She laughed. “Making jam isn’t really a secret talent.”

“It impresses the heck out of me.”

“Hopefully you aren’t the only one.” It slipped out, but the idea of an inn or a bed and breakfast had been occupying so much of her spare thoughts recently, she wasn’t surprised.

She felt him look at her curiously. “Yeah?”

“It’s a thing I’m thinking about doing. I don’t know.”

“A cooking thing? You said you might like to teach those cooking classes.”

“Did I say it like that?” She thought back over their conversations. So much had happened since they met. “Yeah, I guess that’s part of it. But it seems out of reach right now.”

“One thing at a time?”

“Yeah.” She kicked at a fallen apple. “I need to figure out where Emily and I are going to go, what’s actually do-able, before letting my dreams run wild.”

“Smart to be practical, but dreams are hard to contain.” He squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back. “True story.”

“Can I ask what they would be if you let them run wild? Is that a good thing to talk about?”

“It’s a great thing to talk about.” She breathed in deeply and stopped in the middle of the orchard. “That one day I’d have an inn of my own, something boutiquey in the country. Maybe partner with a local spa to offer services, and have amazing food, but also hands-on stuff, like the rotating cooking classes. I was really stunned when the community cooking classes schedule came out, because it was so closely aligned with what I’d imagined.” She lifted one shoulder and gave him a small, rueful smile. “Good to experience it as a customer, I guess.”

“But it’s not what you really want.”

She turned and looked at him. “No.”

“An inn, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds really cool.”

She took a deep breath. “I hope so. I’ve been playing around with ways to tiptoe in that direction, get back into hospitality and tourism.” She shrugged. “But again, I don’t want to get stuck on the outside looking in.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting more.”

She worried the inside of her cheek, suddenly nervous that she’d shared too much, showed him too much. “Shall we keep going?”

It wasn’t the most subtle of conversation changes, but she wanted to know what he had planned for the blanket and the Thermos of cider.

They kept walking until they reached a clearing. Matt pointed to a soft, grassy spot. “We can sit over there.” He stretched out the blanket, then held out the Thermos.

She took a sip of the hot, sweet cider. “God, I think it’s been years since I’ve had cider. It’s so good.”

“Yeah?”

She groaned, and his eyes sparkled as he watched her.

“I like the sounds you make. Who knew cider was such a good move?”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe for a second that you haven’t done this cozy-cuddle-in-an-orchard routine before. You’re an irrepressible flirt.”

“Nah. We’re just talking about dreams and crabapple jelly and drinking some cider. We could start an orchard-visiting club.” He reached his hand out. “Join me on this blanket and let’s discuss the founding terms.”

She laughed despite herself and slid her fingers over his. Warmth sizzled between them as she dropped to her knees, then sideways. “An orchard-visiting club?”

“You’re right, that’s too seasonally specific. We can broaden the scope. Maybe in the winter we could meet at a pub.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a date.” A perfect, no-pressure kind of date.

“Mmm. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.” He grinned at her. “Although since you put cuddling on the table…”

She mock-gasped. “Did I do that?”

“I think you did.”

“Huh. Interesting.” She took another sip of cider, then handed it to him.

He drank a bit before leaning in to brush his lips against the tip of her nose. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

“Complicated.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She didn’t know. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

He just smiled and handed her the Thermos again.

She sipped the cider and watched him watching her. When he smiled, she held it out to him. “Want more?”

The double meaning bounced in the air between them.

He smiled and reached for the Thermos. “Always.”

Wasn’t that the rub right there?

After he took a big drink, he put the lid back on the cider and set it aside. “I know we need—I need—to be careful here. This isn’t a casual hook-up.” He gave her a meaningful look. They both knew what that was. That was their wheelhouse. Easy, fun, hot sex without any strings, and right now, she wanted that. With Matt. Under Matt. On top of Matt.

From the way he was looking at her, he wanted it too. The blanket practically promised something dirty.

And for the first time since her daughter was born, she found herself longing for the carefree lifestyle she’d given up. Just a little. Just for an afternoon.

A roll in the grass with a hot young paramedic.

“A part of me wishes that it were,” she admitted, wanting to give him that honesty if she couldn’t give him her body just yet.

“Yeah?”

“It would be easier.”

“Only easier if it’s possible. And since it’s not…”

She smiled. “Right.”

“So we’re going to do this the old-fashioned way, and I’m going to come courting as often as it takes until you’re ready to let me sneak into the parlour.”

She laughed. “Courting. Is that even a thing?”

“It’s the only option in front of us.” His eyes glittered as he stretched out and propped his head on his hand.

“Returning to be friendly strangers would be another option,” she whispered. It hurt to even say it.

He shrugged. “That might get awkward when we bump into each other and you blush.”

“That won't happen.”

“It already has, and from across the street. When we actually collide in a grocery store or at a garden centre, and my hands fall on your hips to keep you steady…”

Now she was thinking about his hands on her hips, and it was hard to not squirm. It was hard not to stretch out on the blanket and tug him on top of her.

As if he could read her thoughts, his gaze burned into hers. “No one will believe we’re strangers.”

Maybe she didn’t have a choice in the matter. The universe clearly kept putting him in her path.

“Zero drama. That's my middle name,” he said as he looked her in the eye. “I promise.”

Instead of responding, she looked up at the sky. It was a gorgeous day. Cool breeze, warm sun. A few more weeks and it would be too cold to lie outside on a blanket.

“I know,” she said, her voice sounding funny to her own ear. “You’ve been great.”

“There’s something here.” He quietly tapped his chest, then reached for her, his fingertips grazing her shirt above her breasts. “Between us. I didn’t see it coming, but now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to shy away from whatever this is.”

Now that I’ve found you.

It was hard to ignore the intensity in those words. And yet he was accepting her rules, making it clear he was willing to wait until she was there, too. It was everything she could possibly want.

“Full disclosure—I’m terrified by all the options here.” She took a deep breath, trying to unscramble her thoughts and tame her rioting heart. “I don’t want something casual. But dating for real? That would mean the whole meet-your-family thing at some point, which would include…”

“Jake, who you’ve already met.” He gave her a faint smile, and his eyes stayed warm. “But honestly, I don’t care. We can talk more about that if you want, but it’s just…nothing to me. Is it a big deal to you?”

She sighed and pushed herself into the blanket, stretching her legs out as long as she could make them. “It isn’t a big deal. Obviously, we both have histories with people. I’ve kissed a lot of frogs in my life, etcetera. But the last time I saw Jake, and then the last time I spoke to him…both of those were not me at my finest hour.” She screwed up her face. “Honestly, I’m embarrassed by how I acted then. But I refuse to be shamed at the same time. It’s a fine balance to walk.”

“Hey, I get that.” He crawled his fingers across the blanket between them, tapping them against the fabric like a tiny, invading army. “Nobody will shame you. I personally guarantee it.”

“Because you’ll threaten to kick their asses if they do?”

He hesitated before giving her a charming grin. “Yes.”

“Just like that, you’re on my side?”

“Are there sides to this? I don’t see it like that.” He brought his fingers up to hover over her lips before she could protest again. He didn’t cut her off, just stilled her words for a beat.

She smiled against his touch. “Maybe you would if you knew more about how messy it was.”

He curled his hands, brushing his knuckles over her cheek. “Maybe you should tell me, then, so I can show you how much I really don’t care about the details.”

Her head swam as he slid closer, as his mouth found hers in an almost kiss.

“I want to know more about you,” he said gruffly against her lips. “I want to know everything. Your dreams. Your fears. How to make crabapple jelly.”

“Can I start with the jelly?”

He smiled and kissed the corner of her mouth.

She groaned and twisted her head so their lips brushed.

“I like that,” he whispered.

“Me too.” She closed her eyes and rolled onto her back. His hands stayed on her skin, and she sank into their warmth. “There was a time when I was foolish and stupid, and thought your brother might be the right guy for me. Stable, kind, reliable.”

To her surprise, Matt laughed. Gently, very gently, but he was still laughing.

She pulled her head back and looked at him. “What?”

He smiled at her. “That’s funny, because I swear, I have always known that about my brother, but I always thought it made him a buzzkill. I never in a million years thought it would be a reason to be jealous of him.”

“Jealous?”

His smile didn’t waver, telling her he wasn’t really bothered by it. “I’m just not that kind of guy. Or I never have been in the past.”

She shook her head. “Oh, I’m not looking for any kind of white picket fence anymore, trust me. But after everything that happened, I wasn’t looking for any kind of guy. Then you walked into my life and declared you wanted to be my friend.”

“Sorry for messing up that plan.” His gaze grew serious. “Am I the first guy you’ve dated since Emily?”

“Yeah. Not that we’re dating.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Right. The first guy you’ve joined an orchard club with.”

“The very first.”

“And if we did keep meeting like this, for discussions of crabapple jelly and dreams, would you want it to be secret?”

God. That was the question, wasn’t it?

Matt propped himself up on his arm and gazed down at her. “Can I be honest?”

Could she handle it? “Sure.”

“I don’t want to keep you a secret. If we’re friends, if we’re more than friends…whatever we end up as, I want to tell my brother at some point. I honestly thought about telling Jake about you this morning.” Her eyes went wide, and he winced. “I went to their house to apologize for skipping Thanksgiving, and I ended up just talking to Dani instead.”

“About me?”

“About a woman I’m interested in.”

She couldn’t breathe. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her this woman is different. That I’m different when I’m with her, and I really like her. I like her daughter, and I like spending time with her. I mean, I think I said all of that. I was pretty nervous the whole conversation, because I realized as I was telling her that little bit that I really needed to talk to you first.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know what to say.” That was the whole truth. She was speechless.

He caught her hand and twisted their fingers together. She stared at that point of connection, knowing he was looking at her face, and unable to meet his gaze.

“The thing is,” she whispered, “I’m interested in you, too. But I don’t know where this is going to end up. So until I do, I want it to stay between us. Not a secret, exactly. I don’t ever want to be anyone’s dirty little secret ever again. Just…”

“This is precious,” he said, his voice rough. “I get it, Tasha. I’ll protect you.”

Him using her nickname for the first time pushed on something soft and achingly sweet inside her.

“You haven’t called me that before,” she whispered.

“I didn’t know if you liked it.”

“I do…” She leaned in, needing his warmth. Needing some reassurance, too. “It’s actually my name, most of the time. It’s what…men call me. Everyone, really, but Tasha is my flirty, fun identity, I guess. And something made me give you my whole name when we met.”

“I like flirty and fun,” he murmured. “Look at me.”

She lifted her gaze to his face.

“I don’t care who else called you that. I think of you as Natasha Kingsley, mother of Emily, age three-years-old and fan of all things pink. But when you’re this close to me, and I can catch the faintest hint of the scent of your skin…I think of you differently. My brain short-circuits and all I can think is…” He leaned in, close enough for their lips to almost brush. “Tasha…I want to kiss you so much it hurts.”

She tumbled back, and he followed, pressing against her as she stretched beneath him. Like their first kiss, this went from zero-to-sixty in a heartbeat. Parting her lips, she welcomed his questing tongue. He kissed her like a week had been too damn long, like he knew it would hurt to go another stretch of time before they could do this again.

He kissed her like her kisses mattered.

Like he needed her.

Her head spun with that thought. How could that be? Nobody needed her, except Emily.

He bit her lower lip and she arched beneath him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, running his fingers over the bare skin at her waist.

She nodded and he slid his hand up her shirt, dragging goosebumps over her ribcage before covering her bra with his fingers. His hand was so big he cupped her entire breast, his fingertips grazing the bare skin on her chest.

And then he squeezed.

Oh, yes.

She tore another kiss from his mouth, then threw her head back. He dragged his lips down her throat and buried his face in her neck as he cupped and caressed her curves.

She wanted to touch him, too. It wasn’t really warm enough to take their shirts off, but they were both wearing buttoned-down shirts over tees.

“Take your shirt off,” she whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. Off it came, the blue Oxford fluttering to the blanket beside her. She ran her hands over the hair dusting his forearms, then up onto his flexing biceps.

He was built like a Roman god, all sculpted muscle, tensed and ready for action.

“Can I touch you?”

He grinned down at her. “Please do.”

He had goosebumps on his arms now, probably more because of the cool autumn breeze than anything to do with her. She rubbed her hands back and forth over his skin, then pushed gently at his chest. “On your back, mister.”

He stretched out and she leaned over him, brushing her lips against his. Whisper kisses, smiling kisses, and then when he lifted his head a bit, deeper kisses. The whole time she touched him, stroking her fingertips over his chest and then down his solid, tight midsection.

He shuddered when she finally tucked her hand under his shirt. His muscles clenched into tight ridges and she blindly explored him. Fur down the middle of his belly, a narrow line that made her thighs quiver.

She forced her hand up, not down, but it didn’t take long for her fingertips to find their way back to that treasure trail. Matt groaned in her mouth when she touched his belt buckle.

His hand closed over hers, and she lifted her head.

It was hard to re-focus her eyes on his face. She was breathing hard, too. Giving him a wobbly smile, she tugged her hand back. “I guess that’s, uh, not in the spirit of old-fashioned courting.”

“Probably not,” he rasped, rolling onto his side and tugging her close again. “But we’ll revise the terms of that as we go.”

As we go. Three words had never sounded so good to her.

She gave him a happy, dorky smile and he caught her fingers and brought them to his mouth.

“That felt really good,” he murmured. His eyes hooded as he looked at her, and slowly, he dropped their hands between their bodies. His knuckles rubbed against her stomach. Back and forth, back and forth, and slowly her shirt pulled up.

They both sucked in a breath when the backs of his fingers grazed her bare skin.

“And you feel good, too.” He licked his lips. She was transfixed by the look on his face. Hot, bright, intense. “We’re going to take this slow,” he said. “But I’m going to get carried away, too, so we’re going to both have to stop the other. Just know if I stop you, it’s not because I don’t want what you’re doing.”

He rocked his hips against her hand, and she felt the hard press of a thick erection.

“Right,” she breathed. “Yeah.”

“Come here,” he urged, and she pressed against him. More kissing. The barest of touches. And just before they broke apart, his fingertips nudged their way under the waistband of her jeans.

She was dizzy and turned on like crazy when he laughed and rolled onto his back.

This time, she stretched out beside him and kept her hands to herself.

Never in her life had she been this horny. It felt really weird that they weren’t going to do anything more about that.

And strangely, wonderfully good.

He carefully got to his feet, then hauled her up before kissing her one more time. “Do you want to pick some apples?”

No, she wanted to lie back down and let his hand get further down her pants this time. “Yeah, we should do that. That’s exactly what we should do.”

He bumped against her hip, sending flames of need shooting through her.

Two could play that game. She leaned over, taking her time gathering up the blanket and the Thermos.

His eyes were on her ass the whole time.

Slowly, she straightened up and handed him the blanket. “Okay. Let’s go pick some fruit.”