We walked down a tree-lined avenue after we’d gotten our ice cream, enjoying the breeze off the ocean. I licked chocolate-coconut ice cream out of a sugar-fragrant cone. “Feels like we’re playing hooky,” I said, swiping stands of windblown hair out of my face.

“It does,” he said. “And I’m even thinking of running away from home.”

“What? Why?”

He shook his head. “She’s going to parade suitable women in front of me until I leave town.”

The thought gave me a pang. “Why?”

“She wants—”

“Not that.” I cut him off; the thought of Rob making babies with another woman made my heart hurt. I didn’t need to imagine it all over. “Why now? She really thinks she can sort your love-life out in two weeks’ vacation?”

He quirked an eyebrow at me, as if I’d misstepped, then took another lick of his ice cream cone. His tongue was long and pink and made my mind go to dirty places.

“You think my love life’s in such desperate straits?” he asked.

“I think you need therapy,” I said.

“I think you do.”

I nodded. “Probably. I mean, I haven’t had a boyfriend in a million years.”

He gazed down at me tranquilly. “Maybe you haven’t met the right guy.”

“Maybe I’m just the wrong girl.”

He shook his head.

“What?” My tone came out irritated. That tone couldn’t have something to do with my datelessness, right?

“I don’t like hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

“Even though you’ll make fun of me non-stop?”

“It’s different when I do it,” he said. He held his ice cream cone between two fingers so he could cup my shoulders in his big hands, turning me to face him. Which I did, reluctantly. “Because I see who you really are, Naomi.”

I had to roll my eyes. “Oh? You know me better than I know myself? Despite being gone the last ten years?”

“I see a beautiful, smart, independent woman.” His tone was mild, as if he didn’t notice mine. “Someone who could stand her own against anyone my grandmother dragged into the house.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. But I couldn’t help thinking about all the lonely nights I’d had in those ten years of my independent life, all the weddings I’d smiled through and all the times I had cuddled with my cats on the couch and wished I had someone to watch a movie with. But not just anyone. Someone like impossible Robert Delaney.

And suddenly tears were filling my eyes. Oh my god. I was face-to-face with Robert Delaney, and I was getting weepy. His eyes widened. Despite his SEAL-team-cool, the tension etched around his eyes and mouth suggested panic.

I had to do something. And fast.

So I tugged his shoulders down to me. He leaned forward, those broad shoulders comfortingly solid as I dragged him close, and I planted my lips on his. I kissed him too hard, too suddenly, my nose bumping into his. I felt my cheeks flare with embarrassment.

Rob slid a finger under my jaw, tilting my face up to his. He kissed me. He had lush, soft pink lips. They were the one soft spot on that toned and hard body.

My lips parted against his, welcoming him in. His lips felt cool, and his mouth tasted like mocha ice cream. His tongue swept into mine, sure and confident. As his tongue slid against mine, I felt a reckless throb of desire that ran through my body. Involuntarily, my hips swayed against his.

His casted arm closed on my lower back, holding me tight against his chest. The warmth coming from his body was magnetic.

Our mouths slid apart. Rob kissed me one last time, a chaste little peck on the lips. No more tongue.

I glanced around, embarrassed; we were tongue-kissing like we wanted to tear off each other’s clothes in front of a boutique children’s toy store with a crayon-colored awning.

“Well, jeez,” Rob said. “If you’d told me that all I had to do to end our arguments was to tell you that you’re pretty…”

I raised my hand between us, palm out. “Do not. That was a one-off.”

He grinned. “Why did you kiss me, Naomi?”

“We are not going to talk about this.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to talk on our way to Boston.”

“We are not going to Boston together.”

“I thought we could leave this afternoon.”

“No, Rob.”

He was grinning. He took another lick of his ice cream, watching me with those knowing blue eyes. His tongue slowly followed the curve of his ice cream before it disappeared back into his mouth.

He was watching me watch him.

“You’re infuriating,” I said.

“In a good way.”

I shook my head. It made him smile.