Ally could not remember a time in her life when any guy—not in high school, not college, not even Dan—had asked permission to kiss her. It was so damn sexy, she nearly melted into a puddle right there.

“Yes,” she managed. Her voice was unsteady, her insides burning, her knees trembling, but she was certain she wanted that kiss, now more than ever.

Roscoe’s lips brushed her cheek, soft and gentle as a feather. Despite the tentativeness in his kiss, electricity crackled between them, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. He kissed her again, his lips ghosting over her jaw, her chin, the corner of her mouth, each movement winding her tighter inside, flooding her core with molten heat. The darkness heightened her other senses, magnifying the whisper of his lips on her skin, the sound of his breath as it mingled with hers, the coolness of the cement wall against her back. She felt him pull back, and her lips parted a mere second before he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her full on.

She sighed into his mouth as their lips met, warm and soft and perfect, and when her sigh turned into a moan, Roscoe deepened their kiss, tangling his hands into her hair and pulling her closer. He was so confident, so in control, Ally wanted nothing more than to let go. To let herself be carried away by this current, no matter where it might take her.

Reaching for his shirt, she trailed her fingers down the center, working her way through the buttons until she’d revealed his bare chest, her hands exploring every solid ridge and ripple her eyes couldn’t see. His skin was smooth and hot to the touch, and when she dragged her nails lightly down his abs, she felt his muscles contract in pleasure.

Roscoe was strong and sure, but God, he made Ally feel like she was the one with all the power. Even her lightest touch had him groaning against her lips, silently begging for more as he worked his way down her neck.

“Roscoe,” she whispered, breathless and hot as he teased her with his tongue. “That’s… God.”

He left a hot kiss on her collarbone, then moved on to her shoulder, gently nipping her skin as his hands slid around her waist and up her back, fingers seeking the zipper at the base of her neck.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Not exactly,” she teased. “I’m still dressed.”

Laughing, Roscoe slowly unzipped her dress, his warm touch a stark contrast to the cool air-conditioned air on her newly exposed skin. She slipped her arms from the dress as Roscoe pushed it down to her waist, his strong, calloused thumbs brushing her bare nipples.

Ally was in divine agony—there was no other way to put it. His every touch, every caress left her wanting so much more.

Roscoe lowered his head and licked her nipple, then sucked the aching bud between his lips, his stubble scratching her breast as Ally trembled, barely trusting her ability to stand upright.

All of her attention was on her body. On the goose bumps rising on her skin, the white-hot pulse of desire between her thighs, the free-fall sensation in her belly as Roscoe teased and sucked, kissed and caressed. But somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice was warning her to slow down. To take a breath. To put an end to this before she tumbled into something that could not be reversed.

That’s your fear talking, girl! Savannah Hart’s voice said. Kick that nosey nelly to the curb and embrace your passion!

“I’m embracing it!” she nearly shouted.

“Um…” Roscoe laughed, standing up to kiss her. Her nipples ached in the chilly air, longing again for his mouth even as he teased her with this palms. “Embracing what?”

Ally hadn’t realized she’d said it out loud, but she wasn’t about to let the opportunity go to waste.

“This.” She reached for the button on his jeans, unfastening them and sliding her hand inside his boxers, seeking his hardness.

“For the record,” Roscoe said, letting out a sigh of pure pleasure that made Ally smile, “I fully embrace… your embracing of… your… God, yes. That.”

It was shocking, the feel of another man. Hot and hard for her. Thickening at her touch as Roscoe lowered his mouth to hers with another sigh, his hot breath tickling her lips.

Time slowed. Everything around her narrowed into this one tiny pinpoint of awareness:

I’m touching another man, stroking him…

A flame of guilt flickered inside, fracturing the intensity of the moment, and Ally drew back suddenly as if she’d been burned.

“Ally?” Roscoe whispered. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…” Ally sucked in a breath, let it out slow. She waited for the guilt to rise, to consume her until there was nothing left but tears and regret.

But the seconds ticked by, and none of those feelings came. The tiny flame inside sputtered out almost as quickly as it had arrived, and Ally sighed in relief. She was fine. Absolutely fine.

“I’m so sorry. I’m fine.” She trailed her fingers down his chest again, reaching for the waistband of his boxers. “Where were we?”

Roscoe grabbed her hands, holding them still against his abs. “You sure you’re okay? We can stop if you want to.”

“I’m good. Just a little rusty,” she admitted. “It’s… been a while for me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked gently, releasing a hand so he could brush the hair from her face. His thumb trailed along her jaw. “We don’t have to—”

“I know,” she said. “I want to. Really.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m—”

A noise at the door startled them both—someone was jiggling the handle.

“Shit,” Roscoe whispered, laughing. “Raincheck?”

“Definitely.”

After a quick kiss to seal the deal, they split apart, hastily reassembling their clothing. Ally couldn’t find her shoes, and her hair was probably a dead giveaway, but at least she’d managed to get the dress back up before the lock gave way and the door opened, bathing the room in fluorescent light from the hallway.

“Oh,” a woman’s voice said. “I didn’t realize this room was taken. Guess we should’ve made reservations.”

Ally squinted at the silhouettes in the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

“Roscoe? Ally?” the woman laughed, and Ally finally recognized the couple. “Oh, my. This is awkward.”

“Hi Paulette,” she said brightly, forcing a smile. “John. Is the game over already?”

“Apparently for you two it isn’t,” Paulette said, staring pointedly at the bulge in Roscoe’s pants. “What’s going on in here?”

“We’re just leaving,” Ally said, right as Roscoe said, “Thought we saw a mouse.”

“A big one,” Ally added. “Huge.”

John snorted back a laugh.

“What are you two up to?” Ally asked innocently, as if her swollen mouth and crazy almost-sex-hair and the situation in Roscoe’s pants were an everyday occurrence here in the Wellshire Estates staff room.

“We were looking for a mouse too,” Paulette said with a wink. “But I suppose we’ll have to look elsewhere. Besides, I’m pretty sure June Higgenbottom saw us leaving, and you know how she is.”

“Right,” Roscoe said.

“Well, since it’s obvious none of us are getting any tonight, would you two like to join us for a cocktail instead?” Paulette asked. “Southern Comfort Manhattans are my specialty.”

“Oh, now you’re just showing off,” John said. “Metamucil cocktails are more your specialty.”

“As awesome as that sounds,” Roscoe said, “we’ll have to pass.”

Paulette gave them both another once-over, then smirked. “Okay, then. See you again soon, I hope?”

“Count on it,” Roscoe said. Then, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “And maybe we should keep this… mouse situation to ourselves, right? Wouldn’t want June to catch wind of it.”

“No, definitely not.” Paulette smiled as she backed out of the doorway, then made a zipping motion across her lips. “I’m a vault, Roscoe LeGrand. You know that.”

The moment she and John were out of earshot, Ally said, “So. How long before the entire population of Wellshire knows?”

“Hmm.” Roscoe tapped a finger against his lips. “Staff or residential?”

“Both.”

“Put it this way: Paulette’s going to love holding court at breakfast tomorrow.”

“At least she didn’t ask to take a selfie.” Ally flipped on the overhead light and located her purse on one of the chairs.

“I’m just glad I’m maintaining my record as worst date ever.” Roscoe opened the door, gesturing for Ally to head out ahead of him. “For a minute there, I thought you were actually starting to like me.”

Ally laughed. “Who says I don’t?”

“Let’s recap.” Roscoe put his arm around her, leading them both down the hall toward the exit. “I take you to bingo. Bring you to an old folks home to make out.” Roscoe inhaled deeply. “It smells like Ben Gay in here. God, my off-ice game really sucks.”

“Hey, I won fifty bucks! The night’s not a total loss.”

“You are kind of a bingo badass.”

Ally grinned. “Right?”

“Well, they play every other Saturday, so any time you need a good boinking, give me a call.”

Heat flooded Ally’s face, but still she laughed. She hardly knew the man, but somehow being with Roscoe felt so easy, so natural. It sounded strange to think of it that way, but to Ally it seemed as though they’d been friends for years.

Out in the parking lot, Roscoe paused in front of the passenger door of his SUV, turning to offer her a surprisingly shy smile. “The best part about dating senior citizens on the side is that their night ends early enough for me to go on another date. It’s like a two-fer.”

“You are such a scoundrel!”

“There’s actually a great little Greek place next door I was hoping to show you. And a bowling alley, if you’re up for more games. Close enough to walk, even.” Roscoe held out his hand, the hopeful sparkle in his eyes offering an invitation and a promise. “Unless you’ve got plans?”

This was her chance. She could make an excuse, feign exhaustion from the unexpected turn of events, from the unexpected onset of all those people, from the mortification of getting caught by Paulette and John, and all the gossip that was sure to follow. It would be easy enough to ask Roscoe to take her home, to wish him well, to put the night behind her and never look back.

She suspected Roscoe knew she’d do just that. The silence stretched on between them, the hope in his eyes slowly fading into a dull acceptance.

But instead of bowing out, Ally surprised them both.

“Well, I was going to head home, put on my slippers, and pour myself a Metamucil cocktail, but I suppose that can wait.” Ally took Roscoe’s outstretched hand. “You know, I’ve never actually tried Greek food.”

Roscoe put his hand on his heart, mouth open in mock horror. “What kind of backwoods childhood did you have?”

“In our house, wheat bread was considered ethnic food.”

“Oh, Ally. You’re lucky you met me when you did.”

She was beginning to agree with him.

“Brace yourself.” With a glint in his eye that promised mischief, he pointed at her and said, “I’m about to pop your souvlaki cherry.”

Ally laughed. The night had taken such an unexpected turn. It wasn’t until after dinner and drinks, after dessert and coffee, after a marathon game of bumper bowling in which Roscoe still managed to throw mostly gutter balls and Ally got an earful on bowling shoe design from a self-professed bowling shoe connoisseur named Earl, that she felt those nervous butterflies skittering inside her once again.

“Roscoe…” she started, searching for the words. They were back at her house now, standing on the front porch to say their goodbyes, lulled by the melodic hum of the crickets and a sprinkler running next door, and Ally wasn’t quite sure how to end the evening. Despite how much fun they’d had, she wanted to get this off her chest. To explain.

“What happened earlier,” she tried again, looking up into his eyes. “I really am sorry.”

“Wait… What happened earlier?” He snapped his fingers and smiled, resting a warm hand on her shoulder. “Right, I remember. I got to hang out with a gorgeous woman all night, make out with her in the staff room, eat my weight in souvlaki and rice pudding, and get my ass kicked in bumper bowling, which was a thing I didn’t think possible before tonight.”

Ally smiled. “Well, when you put it like that…”

“It is like that.” Roscoe reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, his warm hand lingering on her neck. His eyes glittered, drawing her back in. If it wasn’t for the fact that she had neighbors, she might just try to pick up where they left off earlier…

“And I can’t wait to do it all again.” Roscoe’s declaration brought her back to the moment.

Ally couldn’t hide her relief. “Really?”

“Really. I was thinking Thursday,” he said. “After you get off work. Yes?”

“Are you asking me on another date?”

“I am. Are you accepting?”

“That depends. Will the ladies of Wellshire be joining us?” she teased. “Or Earl, fanboy of bowling shoes large and small, funky and fresh?”

Roscoe shook his head, trailing his thumb across her lips. “Next time I want you all to myself. No sharing.”

Ally grinned. She was powerless to resist.

“Thursday sounds great.” She glanced at her watch—it was well past midnight. Thank God Reggie was staying at Clarissa’s tonight. “As long as you have me back at a respectable hour next time. Reggie will be home, and I don’t want her getting suspicious.”

“Sorry, beautiful. I’m not making any promises about bringing you back at a respectable hour. In fact…” Roscoe leaned in close, nipping her earlobe and kissing the sensitive skin behind it. In a low growl that made her knees weak, he said, “I don’t plan on being very respectable at all.”