Somewhere between his second helping of lasagna and the hockey stories, Roscoe must’ve fallen asleep.

It was the only explanation—this was all a dream. Because as far as he knew, he hadn’t done a single thing in his life to deserve the little slice of heaven that was Ally Heinz, still glowing from the orgasm he’d just given her, looking at him like she was about to grant every last one of his wishes.

“I like it just like this,” he said, kissing her again. The hot press of her luscious lips made Roscoe dizzy enough—never mind her firm grip on his cock. Fucking hell, that felt good.

He kissed her jaw, her neck, his mouth hungry for the silky smoothness of her skin. The air around them was quickly cooling off, but Ally was warm and inviting, her skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

Her touch drove him wild, but simultaneously made him jealous. He already missed the feel of her soft, wet flesh. He wanted to touch her again, too. Needed it.

He reached for her panties, sliding his hand down the front again, but she pulled back in a fit of giggles.

“Not fair,” she said, grabbing his hand to stop its incessant wandering. “I already had my turn. Now it’s yours. Close your eyes.”

He did as she asked, but still grumbled.

“I don’t care about fair,” he said, feeling her pull away. “I just want to touch you again. Hear that sound you make when you—”

Roscoe’s eyes flew open again. He couldn’t help it; she’d put her mouth on him, sliding her tongue over the top of his cock as she sucked him between those luscious pink lips. He was done fighting, done joking, done doing anything other than letting his eyes drift closed and losing himself in the feel of her hot little mouth on his flesh.

With one hand flat against his abs, she gripped the base with her other hand, stroking him as she took him in deeper. Her silky hair fell forward and tickled his skin, and once again Roscoe wondered if this was all some crazy-ass dream.

She felt. So. Fucking. Amazing.

He slid a hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head, urging her to slow down. He was already so fucking close; holding back was a particularly exquisite bit of torture, but he wanted to make this moment last as long as possible.

“Fuck, Ally. That’s… amazing. You’re… I can’t wait much longer…”

She moaned against his flesh, the vibrations of her voice making his balls tighten. Her lips, her tongue, her breath, her hands… All of it was conspiring to drive him mad with lust.

“Ally,” he warned, opening his eyes to look at her. “I’m right there.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, her gaze devilish. Roscoe tried to pull back, hoping to spare her, but she only sucked him in deeper, faster, her tongue pulsating against his skin…

Roscoe lost it, fisting her hair and thrusting into her mouth as he came in a white-hot rush. Ally moaned in response, sucking him until he finally stopped twitching, his body relaxing back against the blanket.

Slowly, she pulled away from him, her cheeks pink, her lips puffy. She sat up and reached behind him for the bottled waters he’d packed, passing one to Roscoe before downing her own in a few gulps.

When she finished, she lay back on the blanket next to him, staring up at the sky.

Roscoe propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at her face. She was flush, her eyes sparkling and alive.

I did that. Put that look in her eyes. That color in her cheeks.

“Looking for those meteors?” he asked, stroking her cheek with his knuckles.

“I think I saw one.” She met his eyes, her smile sweet and sincere. After a beat, she said, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Two things. One, I don’t want to wake up.”

“Neither do I.” Ally laughed, letting her eyes flutter closed. Roscoe resisted the urge to kiss her lashes. “So what’s two?”

“Two,” he said, resting a hand on her abdomen. Beneath his touch, beneath the fabric of her dress and panties, he’d spotted a bluebird inked into her skin, wings spread wide, just above the dark triangle of hair. “I so called it on the tattoos.”

Ally let out a gentle sigh. “You found me out, Roscoe LeGrand.”

“Are there more?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

Roscoe slid his hand below the hemline of her dress, inching the fabric up to reveal her creamy thighs. What he wouldn’t give to press his face between them right now…

“You’re not going to find them like that.” She opened her eyes and shot him a playful yet admonishing glare, then tugged the dress back down.

“Worth a shot.” Roscoe shrugged. “Where’s there’s smoke, there’s—”

“Not more tattoos.”

“The bird is the only one?”

“The only one you’re seeing tonight.”

Fuck, she’s so damn sexy.

“So you’re saying there are more?”

“I’m neither confirming nor denying.”

“If there were more, how many would there be?”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Fine. Six? No, seven. Wait! Eight. The bluebird was eight—I designed him right after I graduated college.”

“Designed him yourself?”

Ally nodded. “Like I said, I used to paint and draw some. Nothing major. Just… little things like that.”

“But not any more? Not even at work?” Roscoe asked. He knew she worked in marketing and design, but she hadn’t told him much about the specifics. She didn’t seem to like talking about it much.

“It’s a corporate job,” Ally said, “and I’m pretty much on the bottom rung of the ladder. When they do give me design work, it’s mostly just fine-tuning someone else’s work.” She sat up again and reached for his water bottle, took another sip. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. They did let me design the sign-up sheets for the office softball team. With clip art.”

“Think you’ll get back into it one day?”

Ally finished the water, then looked out across the park, smoothing her dress out over her knees. “Maybe when Reggie’s older. For the foreseeable future, my priority is taking care of her. Giving her some stability. My art doesn’t exactly fit into that scenario.”

“Can I see the bluebird again?” he asked, scooting closer to her and putting an arm around her waist. “Please?”

Ally bit her lip, her cheeks turning pink. Roscoe was so fucking turned on he could barely think straight. Never in a million years did he think she’d actually show him again, but suddenly there she was, grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it back, sliding it up above her hips as she rose up on to her knees. Inch by agonizing inch, she revealed the smooth skin of her thighs, and then her belly, freckled lightly from the sun. Roscoe pictured her lying out in her back yard on a beach towel, a tiny red bikini the only thing covering her perfect body.

“It’s kind of faded now,” she said, looking down at the tips of the wings peeking out above her panty line. “God, I haven’t thought about it in forever.”

“No?”

“Well, I see it, obviously. But it’s just kind of there. Part of the background noise, you know?”

Roscoe shook his head, his fingers reaching across to trace the outline of the wings. “Nothing about you is background noise.”

“It was always my favorite one,” she admitted, lowering the dress and sitting back down on the blanket. “It used to remind me of freedom. Like, that feeling right after college when the world opens up and everything is still possible.”

“Everything is still possible,” he said. That’s how it felt when he was with her. Like if she told him magic was real, he’d believe her without question.

It was strange. Despite their instant connection, and the obvious physical chemistry, he hardly knew her. And it’s not like he’d been particularly unhappy with his lot in life—sure, maybe a little lonely sometimes, a little restless, just like anyone, he supposed. But those were just temporary moods. He always bounced back, always landed on his feet again.

But being with her this past week had made him feel like he’d been living his life in a haze, everything just slightly out of focus and out of reach. Then she’d come along and lit everything up, making him feel for the first time in his life like he’d been missing out on something the entire time.

Until now.

“Ally, you’re—”

“Not everything,” she said, her smile fading. “Sorry… What were you going to say?”

Roscoe sat up next to her and reached for her face, smoothing back that errant lock of her hair that never seemed to stay put behind her ear. Roscoe wanted to recapture that moment he’d felt a second ago, tell her just how… intense she’d made things. But she was drifting away into some other place, and Roscoe didn’t want the night to turn dark and serious.

“Thanks for showing me the bird,” he teased, nudging her with his knee. “Where did you say the others were?”

“Hmm. Maybe we should save those for the next date.”

“Who says there’s going to be another date?”

She gave a little shake of her shoulders, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress. “You want to see them, don’t you?”

Roscoe unleashed a sexy growl. “You’re so fucking hot.”

He covered her mouth with his again, stealing her breath away with another kiss. But this time, she broke it off with a regretful sigh.

“If I could spend the whole night out here with you, I would,” Ally said, glancing back up at the sky. The sun had dipped below the trees, leaving pink and orange streaks in the sky. It was probably close to eight, eight-thirty, and they still had a half-hour drive back to the city. “Alas, my coach is about to turn into a pumpkin.”

Roscoe stared at her. “Sorry. I heard something about spending the night with me, and my mind sort of shut down. Could you, ah, repeat that part? About spending the night?”

Ally laughed, reaching for her purse and the phone inside. “Unfortunately I have an impatient teenager at home, and like all teenagers who think they’re thirty-year-olds, she has a highly attuned bullshit detector.” Ally angled her phone so he could see Reggie’s text. Where R U? X-Files starting in 20 min!

“It’s one of our new rituals,” she explained. “X-Files on Netflix. I promised her I’d be back in time—she thinks I’m at a business dinner.”

“Is that what you told her?”

Ally shrugged, slipping the phone back into her purse. “It seemed like the most believable story at the time. The other night, she spent the night with Clarissa, so I didn’t—”

Ally’s face paled, her eyes widening as she realized what she’d said.

Roscoe grinned. “Spoiler alert: Reggie told me about your connection with my PR manager.”

Ally cringed. “I was wondering when that would happen. I’m sorry—I haven’t said anything to her about this. I just didn’t want to make things difficult for you guys at work.”

At this, Roscoe laughed. “You kidding me? Clarissa thrives on making things difficult. Especially when it comes to me.”

Ally narrowed her eyes, giving him a playful nudge. “I’m sure you had nothing to do with that, right? The picture of innocence?”

“Ever since I met you, anyway.” Roscoe grabbed her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “Speaking of Clarissa’s scheming ways… Did Reggie tell you about the photo shoot yesterday?”

“Yes, and the interview thing next month. Apparently being a hockey goddess isn’t enough for my kid. Now she wants to be a media darling, too.” Ally laughed. “I didn’t see that coming, but I guess this whole hockey thing is pushing her out of her shell.”

“You okay with that?”

Ally thought about it a moment, then nodded. “She’s happy, you know? That’s all I want for her—all I’ve ever wanted—as hard as it is for me to push her out of the nest.”

“Can’t be easy letting her grow up.” Roscoe thought again of his nieces and nephews. Regrettably, he hadn’t been around in person for a lot of the antics, but his siblings told him the stories. “I’ve watched my brothers go through it, and now my sister’s next in line. She’ll be an amazing mom—I know it. But I get the sense teenaged girls are a special kind of hell.”

“It has its moments,” Ally admitted. “But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Unless she gets hooked in the spotlight and turns into the next Kardashian. Then I might rethink things.”

“Why don’t you come to the shoot?” he asked. “Some of the other parents will be there, and I’m sure Clarissa would be happy to see you. You can see your best friend at work. She’s quite… intense.”

“Hmm. Are you going to kiss me in front of her?” Ally slid her arms around his neck, turning her face up to look into his eyes. Batting her lashes, she said, “I won’t be used as a pawn in your power games, Roscoe LeGrand.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered, brushing a kiss across her lips.

They packed up the leftovers and trash, folded up the blanket, and headed out to the parking lot. While Roscoe loaded the stuff back into his SUV, Ally leaned against her car, shooting off a quick text to Reggie.

“I don’t want her to worry,” Ally said, looking up at Roscoe as he closed his trunk and crossed over to her car. “Knowing my kid, if I’m late for X-files, she’ll start calling all the restaurants in town, looking for my imaginary business dinner.”

Roscoe laughed. “I’m, uh… I’m pretty sure Reggie knows about us, Al.”

“No. No way. I haven’t said a word, and I’ve been super careful with calls and texts.”

Roscoe leveled her with a glare. “This is Reggie we’re talking about, right? Spunky as hell, does what she wants, highly attuned bullshit detector?”

Ally’s face paled again, her eyes filling with worry as the pieces clicked into place. “Oh, God.”

“You worry too much.” Roscoe told her about the conversation, leaving out some of the specifics Reggie wanted to keep between them. “I really think she’s okay with the idea of… us.”

“Us? Roscoe…” Ally watched him for a moment, but her gaze was unreadable. She seemed to be searching for the right words—maybe the ones to let him down easy.

Fuck.

“I just meant… I…” he trailed off, afraid he’d already ruined his chances. “Is this not… what you want?”

“That’s not it at all. Reggie hasn’t seen me with… I mean, I haven’t really been serious with anyone since… since her father, and I don’t want her to be confused.”

Roscoe nodded, giving her the space to continue, but she didn’t. He was beginning to understand that caution was just part of the deal with Ally Heinz, and if he wanted to pursue this thing—to see where it might lead them—he had to accept that about her.

But he needed to know one thing, and he needed to know it right now, before he got any more tangled up in her life. Any more attached to this gorgeous, amazing, incredible woman who already—in a matter of days—had the power to bruise his heart.

“Is Reggie’s father still… involved? With you, I mean. I get that he’s her dad, but are you—”

“No.” Ally looked up at him again, her eyes full of fire, full of pain. “It’s not like that. Not at all.”

Again, she clammed up, leaving Roscoe to fill in the blanks for himself. He felt like a dick for pushing, but he had his issues, too. Specifically, the one where he’d discovered his ex had been cheating on him with her ex for the last six months of their relationship. By the time he figured it out, he’d already bought the ring.

He opened his mouth to explain, but then thought better of it. Ally didn’t need to hear that story. Not now.

Roscoe had believed Ally when she’d said her ex was no longer involved, but it was clear from the pain in her eyes that whatever had happened with him, she’d been deeply wounded. It stood to reason that Reggie hadn’t escaped unscathed, either.

He felt a new surge of affection for them both, instinctively wanting to protect them. To keep them from re-experiencing whatever trauma they’d already endured. And that meant letting it go for now, letting Ally share things at her own pace.

And if she never felt comfortable sharing, Roscoe would have to accept that, too.

“She’s your daughter, Ally,” Roscoe said gently, reaching up to cup her face. “I’ll support you however you want to play this. We can tell her together, or you can talk to her on your own, but I don’t think we can keep sneaking around. She’s already onto us, and lying to her is just going to damage her trust in you. Discretion is one thing, but I don’t like the idea of starting a relationship with lies.”

“Relationship?” Ally’s eyes widened again. If the dating comment shocked her, the R-word apparently terrified her.

He dropped his hand, shoved it into his pocket. None of his words were coming out right all of a sudden.

“Ally,” he finally said, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m getting some serious mixed signals from you. No one’s talking about a marriage proposal here, okay? I thought we were having a good time. That’s all.”

“You’re right,” she said, forcing a smile. “Roscoe… God, I don’t know how to say this. I’m just… I love spending time with you. This whole thing has been amazing. We hardly know each other, yet I already feel like we’ve been friends forever.”

“Same,” he said, some of the tension dissipating.

“But I have to be honest with you,” she said. “I’m not really in the best place right now as far as relationships go.” Her cheeks colored, but she pressed on. “I’m not implying that’s what this is. And I’m not saying we should even have the ‘what’s next’ conversation. I just feel like I need to be honest with you about this. I’m still dealing with my… with the past. And I just made a major life change, moving us across the country and starting a brand new job in a town where I hardly know a soul.”

Roscoe smiled gently. “When you put it like that, the deck seems a little stacked.”

“Exactly.” She blew out a breath and hiked her purse up on her shoulder. “I’m having a lot of fun with you right now, and I’d love to… I don’t know. Have more? But I can’t make any promises beyond that. So if that’s what you need from me, it’s probably best if we go our separate ways.”

Roscoe considered her words. Appreciated them, as much as he’d wished things were different. Honesty was always the best policy, whether it was his coaches critiquing his game, his Chief Executive Ball Buster reporting on their image issues, or a beautiful woman letting him know exactly where she stood.

“I hear you,” he said. “And I’m good with all of that. But there are a few promises I do need.”

Ally cocked an eyebrow, and Roscoe stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her again, burying his face in her neck. He took a deep breath, inhaling her lemony-sweet scent, then pulled back to meet her eyes.

“Can you promise me that you’ll tell me if and when you’re not into something—physical or otherwise? Even if you think it will hurt me?”

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Can you promise you’ll never keep me around out of pity?”

“Yes.”

“Can you promise you’ll tell me the moment you decide this isn’t working for you?”

Ally nodded. “I can do that.”

“Then we don’t have a problem, Ally. I like you. I like spending time with you. I want to get to know you—Reggie too, whenever you’re comfortable with that. I’m in this however you want it to be, no pressure. And no pressure on your end, but just so you know, I’m not the kind of guy who juggles multiple women. Not even casually.”

Ally nodded, but her face was totally neutral. He waited for her to reciprocate, to reassure him that she was a one-man kind of woman, too, but it seemed she’d run out of promises for the night.

This woman is going to keep me on my toes.

He kissed her again, then stepped back as she got into her car and started it up. They’d agreed that Roscoe would follow her home to make sure she got there safe, but wouldn’t come up to the house, just in case Reggie was watching.

Ally lowered the window, leaning out to offer him one last dazzling smile. Despite the seriousness of their conversation, he still couldn’t believe how amazing their night had gone. How perfect she’d felt writhing beneath his touch, moaning into his mouth. And she fucking loved his cooking.

God, he was already addicted to her.

“You’re lucky you’ve got a daughter to get home to,” he said, crouching down so they were at eye level. “And that you already have your seatbelt on and the engine running. Makes it a hell of a lot harder for me to drag you back out to that field and pick up where we left off.”

Roscoe kissed her again, wishing like hell he could convince her to stay a little longer, but knowing he wouldn’t try. She’d shown him a glimpse of her wild side tonight, and he’d liked it. Probably more than he wanted to admit. But despite her eagerness, her playfulness, Roscoe sensed those old wounds were going to be an issue—maybe a bigger one than Ally herself even realized.

He didn’t know the story about her ex. Didn’t need to, really. But he knew enough to tread carefully. Hell, he’d had his own heart smashed once. Didn’t want anyone opening up those old wounds, and he certainly wasn’t going to do that to Ally.

So for now, he’d do what he did best: light and fun. Casual and breezy. No strings, no complications, no broken hearts.

“Here’s my promise to you,” he warned. Pressing a final kiss to her temple, he said, “I will see the rest of those tattoos.”