Two blocks over from the coffee shop was the start of the residential area. Small houses were packed in tightly like soup cans on a grocery store shelf, and Mia and I had only walked half a block before I saw one house with mail sticking out of the mailbox, leaves collected across the stairs, and a small pile of newspapers at the end of the narrow driveway. I stopped in front of the pink two-story house and made a wide sweeping gesture.

“Welcome home.”

Mia looked up at the house and narrowed her eyes. “You have a house here?”

“We do now,” I said, gathering the newspapers from the ground and kicking the leaves off the steps as I climbed them. “The cop mentioned that everyone was out of town, so I figured that meant we would have our pick of the litter.”

“What if the neighbors notice?” she whispered, tip-toeing up the stairs behind me.

“We’ll keep the lights off and avoid playing our music too loud,” I teased. “It’s just a place to sleep while we plan our next move.”

The lock was easy enough to pick and within thirty seconds we were inside. It was dark, and although my instinct told me to flip the switch, I remembered what I’d just said to Mia. The houses here were close together, so we would have to lay very low to avoid detection. I shut the door behind Mia and re-locked it.

“These people have to be loaded,” Mia said, peeking into a formal sitting room with velvet furniture and a huge Persian rug. “This house is nice. You sure they don’t have a security system?”

“They had a security company sign in the garden, but an alarm didn’t go off when we opened the door and I don’t see a panel anywhere to enter a code. I think the sign was meant to scare people away.”

“Let’s hope so,” she said.

I walked down the hallway and turned left into a tidy kitchen. It was a square room with an island in the center and a stainless steel appliances. The fridge looked industrial, like something you’d see in a restaurant rather than someone’s house. That plus the pots and pans hanging from a rack above the island led me to believe someone in the house loved to cook, which gave me hope we would find something delicious to eat. I was starving.

“Thank God,” Mia said, walking in behind me and immediately moving towards the pantry. “I’m about to pass out.”

A lot of the perishables were gone, but there were boxes of meal helpers and a few pounds of hamburger in the freezer.

“Cheeseburger macaroni, obviously,” I said over Mia’s shoulder.

She nodded in hearty agreement and I started defrosting the hamburger. For a second, moving around one another in the dark kitchen, making dinner, it almost felt natural between us. It felt like we had known one another forever. Like we were moving through our normal daily routine rather than making ourselves at home in a stranger’s house.

Once the hamburger was browning in the cast iron skillet, I hopped up onto the counter and crossed my ankles. “So, what’s next?”

“Sleep,” Mia said, running a hand down her face. She did look tired. Beautiful, but tired.

“I meant for us,” I said. “We need a plan.”

She groaned. “I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be worth it to just give up. Let them kill us. We have the police on our trail and murderers behind them. It seems like the deck is stacked against us.”

“The police aren’t after us. No one saw us at the parade,” I said. “And we didn’t do anything wrong at the coffee shop. We were heroes. We just need to get out of here undetected and let things die down.”

“Mr. Nelson isn’t going to let this die down!” she snapped. Mia took a deep breath and tucked her blonde hair behind her ears. “This is serious, Jack. And sometimes it doesn’t seem like you understand that.”

I leaned my head back against the upper set of cabinets and shrugged. “If your house is on fire, shouting only adds oxygen to the flames.”

She stared at me for a moment. “So, you’d rather do nothing?”

I shook my head. “That’s not what I said. I just mean getting worked up won’t solve anything. You have to come up with a plan.”

“Like your genius plan to strangle me at the parade today? That was a great plan, huh? It’s the reason we are all here.”

I groaned. “Are we honestly going to rehash this again?”

“This wasn’t changing lanes without a blinker or bumping into someone in a hallway,” she said. “Your screw up can’t be forgiven with an apology. It has lasting consequences for both of us and excuse me if I’m a little pissed off that you are going to get me killed.”

“Go ahead,” I said, waving my arms in the air. “Fuel the flames with your shouting. By all means, if it will make you feel better, yell at me. Scream. Hit me if you want. Anything for this particular argument to be over so we can talk about something worthwhile.”

She crossed the kitchen and stood between my knees, a finger jabbed into my chest. “Don’t tempt me,” she said. “I’ve wanted to punch you in the face every second since the moment we met.”

“First of all,” I said, leaning down close enough that my breath moved a strand of her hair. “You did punch me at the parade. I think I’ll have a bruise tomorrow, as a matter of fact. Second, don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” she growled.

I pushed off the counter, my body sliding down the length of hers as my feet came to rest on the tile floor of the kitchen. “When you saw me in the bar, you were thinking about punching me in the face?”

She blinked but otherwise didn’t move.

“Your first thought when you looked at me was that you wanted to hurt me?” I asked. “Or, did you think of something else? Something you’re too embarrassed to admit now?”

“Shutup,” she whispered.

“It’s okay, Mia,” I said, running a finger down her jaw to the tip of her chin, lifting her face to mine. “I know what you were thinking. You showed me last night in the hotel. You don’t have to lie about it now.”

“Things have changed since last night,” she said, rearing back and shoving both her palms into my chest.

I grabbed each of her wrists and held her palms to my chest. Our lips were close now. I could feel the warmth of her breath on my face. I could see the smudge of her mascara on her eyelid and a small white scar that ran across her temple. I could see every detail of her face, but it wasn’t enough. I’d been lying to myself, too. I didn’t want to be close to Mia because it increased our chances of survival. I wanted to be close to her because she was Mia.

“Have they?” I asked.

Things hadn’t changed for me. I felt exactly the same about her now as I had in the bar last night. I had a lot more information about her now, sure. But she was still the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. She was still confident and fierce. I still wanted to rip her clothes off, throw her in my bed, and never let her leave.

Mia’s eyes were wide. I could see my own reflection in them. She stretched up slightly onto her toes and I was sure her lips were going to press against mine. But then, there was a banging noise from somewhere in the back of the house.

I stepped forward and pulled Mia behind me. “Quiet.”

“I can fight a hitman, too,” she whispered into my back.

If I hadn’t been in full-on survival mode, I might have laughed.

The noise happened again, and this time I was able to pinpoint it to the back door, which was in the laundry room just off the kitchen.

“Someone is trying to get in,” she said.

I nodded my head in response and pressed my palm against the reassuring bulge of my handgun at my waist.

Suddenly, Mia’s hand was fighting with me. “I’ll take this one.”

I spun around, eyes narrowed at her. “What is your problem?”

She was glaring up at me. “I’m not going to let you protect me like some damsel. I can fight.”

“I know you can,” I said. “But so can I. And I’m not going to watch you get gunned down while I cower behind you. If I get shot, you can fight your way out. I’m not doing this because I think you need protecting, it’s because I feel bad.”

I hadn’t given myself time to think about how bad I felt, but I felt shitty. Extraordinarily shitty. Mia didn’t deserve this, but she was in this position because of me. As much as I wanted to push the blame onto her, I’d screwed things up for both of us, and I was determined to fix them. That did not involve letting Mia get taken out by a hitman while I stood lamely in the kitchen waiting for her to check out the spooky noise.

Suddenly, the doorknob rattled and my attention was refocused. I crouched down lower and moved towards the back door. Mia was still clinging to my shirt, but I reached around and untangled her fingers from the fabric. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

For once, she didn’t argue with me, but I was too preoccupied to celebrate. I crossed the dark laundry room, navigating over a pile of dirty laundry, and reached for the handle. I grabbed my gun from my belt, took a deep breath, and twisted the knob, throwing the door open.

Mia yelped in the kitchen behind me, but not as loud as the group of teenage boys in front of me. Their shrieks of surprise were shrill.

“What the fuck!” a curly-haired boy yelled as he stumbled backwards off the wooden steps.

“You said no one was home,” another said as he pulled up his too large pants and ran across the yard.

Another boy, younger than the rest and significantly scrawnier, was frozen on the steps, eyes wide and glistening. “I’m sorry,” he stammered.

“That’s okay,” I said, stepping onto the porch, the boards creaking under my weight. “But if you don’t tuck tail and run away like your friends just did, I’ll shoot you.”

A jolt of fear rocked through the kid, and he leapt from the porch in one bound and disappeared into the night.

When I turned around, Mia was bent forward laughing, her arms crossed over her stomach.

“You think that’s funny?” I asked. “Those kids just made me blow our cover and I nearly killed them.”

She was lost to a fit of giggles for the next twenty seconds before she was able to catch her breath and speak. “Don’t talk over a fire,” she wheezed.

“That’s not my saying,” I said. “You got it wrong.”

She waved me away and stood up, wiping tears from her eyes. Then, suddenly, she bolted up and sprinted back across the kitchen. I grabbed my gun and careened around the corner, expecting another intruder, before I realized she was moving the hamburger meat off of the stove and waving at the curling black smoke with a cutting board.

“Shit,” she cursed. “Shit. Shit.”

I grabbed the lid from the island and dropped it onto the pan. Tendrils of smoke still snaked out of the sides, but we were no longer in danger of the smoke alarms going off.

Camille dropped the cutting board and leaned back against the counter, sighing heavily. “So much for dinner.”

“You’ve never had blackened ground beef?” I asked. “It’s a delicacy in some places.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile crossed her lips, so I felt like I’d done my job.

“We can make something else,” I said, opening the freezer and pulling out a box of frozen waffles, holding them up over my head.

“Another delicacy,” Mia said, snatching the box out of my hand and ripping it open. “We aren’t exactly keeping our stay here a secret. They are going to know someone was in here stealing and burning their food.”

“We’ll be long gone by then,” I said.

“Or dead,” Mia added.

“We’ve overcome a hitman and a group of teenagers, so I think you should be a bit more positive,” I said, tossing butter and syrup on the counter next to her.

She popped the first two waffles down in the toaster and turned around, arms folded over her chest. “I’ll try. Because you’re right, we do make a good team.”

I looked at her, both eyebrows raised. “I am?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, rolling her eyes and then smiling at me. “You are good at thinking on your feet. I get caught up in my plan and forget to look around, to adjust for outside influences. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead back at the coffee shop.”

The thought left me feeling cold, and I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder. “I don’t believe that for a second. Besides, without you, I would have killed that hitman in the coffee shop and been arrested for murder rather than self-defense. You always see the bigger picture and plan ahead.”

Her cheeks pinkened at the compliment. “See? We make a good team.”

I let my hand slide down her arm, my fingers caressing the smooth skin at her wrist. She looked down at my hand and then up at me. Her eyes were dark and wide.

“We do,” I whispered, stepping towards her, my thighs flush with hers.

Mia swallowed and then arched her body into me, rolling her hips against mine. The movement was all the invitation I needed. I brought my lips down on hers, sucking her upper lip into my mouth as my hands travelled down the curve of her sides, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her tank top. When I reached her hips, I lifted her up and sat her on the cabinet in front of me. The tub of butter fell to the floor, but I couldn’t care. Mia had wrapped her legs around my hips, pulling me into her, and it was all I could do to remain standing. My knees felt weak with her wrapped around me.

Her stomach was flat as I ran my hands back up her body, pushing her shirt over her head and then throwing it over my shoulder without caring where it ended up. Then, I found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it with my thumb and forefinger, yanking the straps from her arms and tossing it to join the shirt. Mia’s breasts were perfect. Pink and round and full. I kissed across her collarbone and then down her sternum, burying my face between her.

“You’re a boob man, then?” she teased.

I nodded, face still wedged between her breasts.

Suddenly, she was pushing me away and jumping off the counter. I tried to protest, but before I could, Mia’s hands were on my chest, pushing me to the floor.

“Then, I have just the thing for you,” she said, biting her lower lip. She led me down to the tile floor until I was flat on my back. Then, slowly, she hovered over my body, letting her breasts dangle in front of me as she unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down around my knees. When she wrapped her hand around me, I let my mouth fall open, and my eyes fall closed. It was amazing how Mia knew how to touch me even though we’d just met. There hadn’t been a moment of awkwardness between us.

Suddenly, her hand left and there was warmth everywhere. I lifted my head to see Mia pressing her perfect breasts together, my length held between them.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned, letting my head fall back onto the tile floor. “You are going to kill me, Mia.”

She giggled. “There are enough people trying to do that. I’m here to make you feel good.”

And damn it, she did. She moved slowly up and down until every muscle in my body was clenched with the effort not to release, not to end it all right there. She slid down me and twisted her shoulders side to side, wringing herself around my length, and I finally couldn’t take it. I grabbed her shoulders and lifted her off.

“That was dangerously good,” I said, breathing heavily.

She crawled over me and wrapped her fingers around the back of my neck, tangling them in my hair. “Then why did we stop?” she asked.

I followed the curve of her back and squeezed her ass. (I was definitely a boob man, but I wouldn’t turn my nose up at an ass, either.) “Because now it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Before Mia could say anything, I wrapped an arm around her back and rolled so she was on the floor beneath me. She spread her legs wide and let me settle between them. I cupped her mound in my palm and massaged the heel of my hand against her. Her plump lips parted, and she arched her back, lifting her breasts up so I could suck a nipple into my mouth and swirl my tongue around it. She moaned, but the sound lodged in her throat when I slid two fingers into her. She let out a strangled breath and bucked her hips up.

“Dangerously good,” she moaned, biting her lower lip, the corners pulling up in a small smile.

I pulsed into her and then circled my thumb against her, causing another round of strangled breathing.

“Then you better hold on tight. I’m just getting started,” I said, my lips brushing against her earlobe.

I wouldn’t call myself a selfish lover, but several women I’d been with in the past had called me exactly that. They claimed I cared more about my own pleasure than theirs, and I simply argued that everyone was that way. That’s what sex was, after all. An act to bring about your own pleasure. Right?

I’d always thought so, but everything felt different with Mia. Her moans of pleasure, the way she arched her body when I hit the right spot—that sparked a fire in my belly. It was as good as if she was focusing on my pleasure. And as nice as it felt physically, I didn’t know how to understand it all emotionally.

I didn’t have girlfriends or even regular fuck buddies. I was a connoisseur of the one-night stand. But what did that mean for me and Mia?

“Oh God,” she moaned, wrapping a hand around my neck and pulling my face against her chest. “Right there. Yes, Jack. Right there.”

Her cries of pleasure made me forget what I’d even been thinking about. I poured all of my energy into pleasuring her. I buried my face against her collarbone, breathing in her warm vanilla scent, and hid a smile as she began to tremble. As her muscles contracted. As the hand around my neck clamped down so hard I thought she’d strangle me. I felt her let go.

She tensed her legs straight, arched her back, and groaned. It wasn’t a fake sexy groan or anything meant for me. It was primal and came from somewhere deep inside. She lifted her head as the waves washed through her and then, finally, collapsed back onto the tile, panting.

“Oh, God,” she sighed.

“No, it’s still me,” I said, kissing the soft skin on the side of her neck. “Jack.”

“Ha. Ha.” She rolled her eyes, and then let them fall closed. “I need a nap.”

“Uh-uh,” I mumbled into her skin, pressing her thighs apart with my knees. “There is still more to be done.”

“Are you sure?” she teased, eyes still closed. Her head was turned to the side, and I could see the clean lines of her profile. I’d never wanted to take a photograph of something more than I had in that moment, which was unusual considering I’d never had much of an interested in photography before that moment.

I grabbed her chin and lifted her face towards mine, bending forward to kiss her and nibble on her bottom lip. “We are just getting started, baby.”

She let her knees fall apart, opening herself to me. “I’m not your baby.”

“What are you, then?” I asked, genuinely curious. I’d been trying to sort out the answer to that question in the back of my mind for the past few minutes, and I hadn’t come up with anything.

Mia ran a hand down my chest and lower still until her fingers wrapped around my length. She positioned me at her opening and then looked up at me with her grass green eyes heavily-lidded. “Stop talking and fuck me,” she whispered.

I slid into her with one thrust, and it felt like taking a drink of ice water on a summer day. Refreshing in ways that I couldn’t describe. Every sensation felt heightened, more intense. My arms shook and my legs trembled as our bodies met. Mia clung to me, her legs wrapped around my lower back, her hands clawing at my shoulder blades.

I’d had hopes of taking her in every position I’d ever heard of, making sure she’d be sore the next day. But this was better. Quieter, more intimate. It was unlike anything I ever would have dreamed of, but when Mia began to unravel a second time and I tipped over the edge, I clung to her and shivered through my orgasm, thinking that this sex on the kitchen floor with Mia was the closest I had ever come to making love.