“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing tonight?” Ally asked as Roscoe exited the highway in Williamsville, not far from where she worked. The suspense was basically killing her.

“Right. About that…” Roscoe’s tone made her stomach swoop again, and not in the good way. Her fingers dug into the purse in her lap. Darting a quick glance her way, Roscoe said, “How do you feel about sharing?”

“Depends,” she said, trying not to show her relief. “I can be pretty territorial when it comes to burgers and tacos. Chicken wings, too.”

“How about when it comes to me?”

“Sharing you? Like… a threesome?” Ally forced out a laugh. He had to be kidding. Right? Right? Oh, God. Maybe she should’ve watched that YouTube video after all. She figured he was a bit of a playboy, but… multiple women? At the same time?

Her heart rate skyrocketed, and Ally immediately crossed her legs, feeling herself close up. They hadn’t even kissed yet, and now they were talking about sex? With someone else?

“I promised a friend I’d help him out.” Roscoe shrugged as if the idea of it had no effect on him one way or the other. “And yet… As much as I’d love to let this joke play out for maximum enjoyment, I really don’t want you to jump out of a moving vehicle, which is clearly what you’re thinking about doing.” Turning again to offer her a dimpled smile, he said, “It’s not what you think, Ally. We’re in for a G-rated evening, I promise.”

“G-rated?” She blew out a breath and uncrossed her legs, willing her heart rate to slow down again.

“Well, maybe PG-13. The ladies of Wellshire can get a little saucy, especially if they bring their flasks.”

Roscoe left Ally hanging after that, the silence stretching on for a full five minutes. Just when she thought she’d burst from the suspense, he navigated his SUV into the parking lot of a white building surrounded by trees and gardens. Wellshire Place, the sign out front said.

“This looks like some kind of eldercare facility,” Ally said. “What are we doing here?”

He unclicked his seatbelt and pointed at her, his smile stretching huge. “Bingo!”

Ally narrowed her eyes. “Bingo what? I don’t—”

“No, we’re literally here to play bingo. With Walker Dunn’s mother.”

“Walker… from the team?”

“The one and only. His mom lives here. We go way back.” Roscoe nodded toward the entrance, where an older woman in a light blue cardigan and glasses waved excitedly, a smile lighting up her face. “Walker usually plays bingo with her, but he and Eva are stuck in the Caribbean a few extra days with a flight delay. They asked me to swing by instead. I took a risk, thought it might make a fun pre-date. We can head out whenever you want.”

“Fun? It sounds amazing.” And much less scary than a threesome.

They headed inside, where a couple of aides dressed in bright-colored scrubs greeted Roscoe with waves and warm smiles. Ally got the impression he’d been here more than a few times.

Mrs. Dunn was small and wiry, with pretty salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Up close like this, Ally guessed she was in her late sixties—a little on the young side to be living in a facility like this, Ally thought.

The woman wrapped Roscoe in a huge hug, squealing like a kid as Roscoe lifted her off her feet and give her a little spin. Once she was back on solid ground again, she looked out into the parking lot and said, “Where’s Walker? Is he still at school? I think he had that geometry test today—I know how worried he was about it. Poor kid stayed up half the night studying.”

School? Geometry test? Ally’s heart squeezed as the realization dawned. She recognized the signs of dementia—her own mother had died of early onset Alzheimer’s several years ago. Ally glanced at Roscoe, seeing a familiar struggle play out across his features: Do I explain this to her, or do I let it ride?

She reached for his hand, gave him a gentle squeeze.

Ally felt a gentle warmth as Roscoe squeezed back. Without missing a beat, he said, “Walker’s just fine. I talked to him earlier—he said he’d call you later tonight. In the mean time, you’re stuck with me tonight. And I’ve brought a friend I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh.” Karen scrunched up her face in confusion, but then her eyes seemed to clear just as quickly, and she smiled up at Roscoe once again. “Well, I’m glad for anything that gives me a chance to spend some extra time with my favorite hockey player. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Mum’s the word.”

“Now, who’s this beauty? Aren’t you the sweetest.” She opened her arms to Ally for a hug. Her embrace was warm and kind, so comforting and motherly it almost brought tears to Ally’s eyes. “It’s about time Roscoe started getting out of the house and socializing,” Mrs. Dunn said, pulling back and giving Ally a wink. “It’s no good letting all that charm go to waste. We’ve been telling him that ever since—”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Roscoe said quickly. Ally wondered what Mrs. Dunn meant by that “ever since” comment, but now was not the time to let her mind run away with her.

Still holding Ally’s hand, Roscoe kissed Mrs. Dunn on the cheek, then offered his free arm to the woman. Together, the three of them headed toward the community room at the back of the building, where they were enthusiastically greeted at the door by a woman who looked about ninety, with light blue hair and cat-eye glasses dotted with rhinestones. She wore a laminated pin that read, Call me Paulette! And I’ll call you… for a good time.

“Are you kids ready to boink?” she asked, holding out a bucket filled with what looked like fat magic markers.

“I… guess so?” Ally laughed.

“Bingo boinkers,” the woman explained, uncapping one and pressing the tip against the back of her hand. It left a bright blue dot about the size of a nickel—one of a dozen Ally could see. “You use them to mark your cards when they call your numbers.”

“I think they’re called dabbers,” another woman—Lorraine, according to her name tag—said.

“Daubers, actually.” Roscoe paid their entry fees, then helped himself to a green dauber from the bucket, along with a stack of bingo cards and name tag stickers from an adjacent table.

“You all can call them whatever you want,” Paulette said. “I call them boinkers, because that’s what they do.” She pressed it to her hand again, making another dot. “Boink!”

“I bring my own. They have glitter,” Mrs. Dunn said, sliding two purple ones from her back pocket. Then, handing one to Ally, she winked. “For luck.”

“Roscoe LeGrand.” Paulette peered at Ally from behind her glasses. “Are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend, or do you need a spanking?”

“Spanking!” The one called Lorraine clapped her hands. “I’ll get the paddle!”

“Ladies, calm down.” Roscoe held up his hands in surrender, offering Ally a lopsided, apologetic grin that basically melted the panties right off her. Why was he so adorable? So sweet? “This is Ally Heinz,” he said. “Please don’t scare her off—I’m trying to make a good impression here.”

Ally’s cheeks flamed, but she did her best not to show it, smiling and leaning in for hugs and kisses from the ladies.

“Five minutes, people.” A older man came out into the entryway, dressed in a powder blue suit and ridiculously wide orange tie that probably should’ve been donated to Goodwill in the seventies. He looped his arm around Paulette and pressed a kiss to her cheek, making the woman squeal.

“Roscoe and Ally,” Paulette said, “allow me to introduce John. Pardon his manners—he has a thing for PDA.”

John kissed her again. “As if you don’t like it, you saucy broad.”

Paulette laughed. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

God, they were the cutest.

“How long have you two been married?” Ally asked.

“Married? To him?” Paulette looked at the man and made a face like she’d sucked down a lemon, then cracked up laughing. “Oh, honey, no. My husband died years ago.”

Mine too, she almost said, feeling an instant kinship with the woman. She wondered what had happened, whether they’d had a happy life together. Whether she’d had time to say goodbye. But instead of prying, Ally only said, “I’m sorry. You two just… You seem to have a connection.”

“I should hope so,” Paulette said, gently elbowing the man in the ribs. “John’s my side piece.”

“Oh.” Ally’s eyes widened as realization dawned. “Oh!”

Roscoe leaned in close, his warm breath tickling Ally’s ear. “Don’t ask. It’s a whole thing.”

Ignoring Roscoe, Paulette continued. “We were in the closet for awhile, only hooking up when that nosey know-it-all June Higgenbottom was away at her daughter’s house. No prying eyes that way, if you get my drift. But you know what? Life’s too short to worry about jealous rivals.”

Ally pressed her lips together to hide her smile, but Paulette continued on, oblivious.

“June claims she had her eye on Johnny first, but that’s a lie. She never showed a lick of interest until after she saw me dancing with him at the New Year’s ball. I wore my lucky blue dress,” she said, fluffing her hair, “which shows off my best assets.”

“Here she goes,” John said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s true. Every time I wear it, I feel like a million smackeroos.” She touched her shoulders and did a little shimmy. “Anyway, Johnny couldn’t resist me.”

“Still can’t. She’s the prettiest girl in the room.” Then, in a lower tone, “Just wish she’d stop yammering once in a while, give those lips a rest.”

“You didn’t seem to mind these lips last night,” she said, “when I—”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” John said, gesturing at Roscoe and Ally. “These kids don’t want to hear about all that. Trust me.”

“Are you and Roscoe going steady?” Lorraine asked Ally.

Ally smiled, but Paulette, who seemed to find this line of questioning appalling, swatted Lorraine’s arm. “Lorraine! Don’t embarrass the poor girl.” Then, lowering her voice to a whisper that pretty much everyone in the entryway could still hear, she told Ally, “I hope you’re on the birth control pill, toots. Condoms can break, and the last thing you need is—”

“Thank you, Paulette, for your heartfelt concern.” Roscoe grabbed Ally’s elbow and steered her gently through the entryway with Mrs. Dunn, the tips of his ears turning bright red. “I think we’d better find some seats.”

“Sit by us, Ally,” Lorraine said. “Roscoe is distracting. He’ll throw off your game.”

Ally laughed. She couldn’t argue with that kind of logic.

They settled in at a long table at the center of the room. Mrs. Dunn and John sat on either side of Roscoe, and Ally ended up across from them, bookended by Paulette and Lorraine. Down at the other end of the table, two women sat together with their heads bent close, arranging a collection of troll dolls and other charms between them.

“This looks serious,” Ally said.

“You’d better believe it,” Paulette said. “Big money on the line here. Not to mention bragging rights.” Her voice lowered to a harsh whisper as she jerked her head toward the women with the charms. “If you ask me, ol’ June needs to be taken down a peg.”

“Easy, Paulette,” Roscoe warned. “You don’t want Ally to think you’re gossiping.”

“Gossiping!” Paulette looked aghast. “I’m a vault, Roscoe LeGrand. A vault!”

“Except on Facebook,” Roscoe teased, “where we’re all fair game.”

“Oh, that’s different. Speaking of which…” She dug into the front of her blouse and pulled out a bright pink cell phone—Ally didn’t even want to know where that had been stashed—and held it in front of her, leaning in close to Roscoe. “Say cheese, handsome.”

“Cheese, handsome,” Roscoe repeated.

With a few taps and swipes of her fingers, Paulette had taken the selfies and updated her profile pic. Ally was certain she would’ve snapped a few more shots, but a voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing the start of the game. At this, a hush fell over the room, the mood turning suddenly serious as all eyes dropped to the bingo cards on the tables.

All eyes except Ally’s. And Roscoe’s, which were decidedly fixed on hers.

She felt herself blushing again under his gaze, but she didn’t look away. For her monumental show of courage, she was rewarded with a wink and smile, all for her.

“Good luck,” Roscoe said.

Ally grinned. “You too, handsome.”

“B four,” the announcer called, and a ripple went through the room as everyone checked and boinked their cards. After that, the game moved at lightning speed, so fast Ally could barely keep up. She wasn’t the only one—Roscoe abandoned his card about five minutes in, opting instead to help Mrs. Dunn.

It was hands down the sweetest, sexiest thing she’d ever witnessed.

Ally still couldn’t believe the man was real.

And single.

And interested in her, a woman who’d spent so long inside her shell, she was practically a turtle. And not one of those cute baby turtles everyone coos over, but the old, slow-as-molasses, wrinkled ones. Despite all the podcasts and self-help books, most days she felt as if she’d been flipped onto her back by a rogue wave, waiting in the sand for someone to walk by and turn her over again.

What could he possibly see in me?

Beneath the table that separated them, Ally felt a nudge against her foot.

“You’re asleep at the wheel,” Roscoe said.

Ally blinked. “What?”

“B seven.” Roscoe pointed at her card. “They just called it.”

“What? Oh!” Ally boinked her card, closing out the last open spot on the top row. A surge of adrenaline flooded her chest, and she leapt out of her seat, suddenly breathless, laughter bubbling up from inside. “Bingo! Bingo!”

One of the facility volunteers came over to check her card, confirming the first win of the night and handing her an envelope with fifty dollars inside. Her entire table clapped and cheered—even June and her friend at the other end.

Roscoe grabbed Ally’s hand and held up her arm as if she were a prize fighter. “First time here, ladies and gents, and she’s mopping up the competition.”

Mrs. Dunn beamed. “You must be her good luck charm, Roscoe.”

“Karen, if I had a dollar every time I heard that, I wouldn’t need to rely on bingo as my retirement strategy.”

“Who needs a retirement strategy?” Winking at Ally, Paulette said, “Just marry rich. You know, honey, at your age you really have to start thinking with your wallet, not your—”

“Paulette,” Roscoe said, “you are just full of insights tonight.”

“And every night,” she said proudly.

“No wonder John snapped you up when he did,” Roscoe said.

At this, Paulette smiled, her eyes twinkling. Ally wondered what the woman was like when she was Ally’s age. Probably full of fire, unafraid, just like she was now. And, Ally thought ruefully, she probably wasn’t the type to just sit there letting her stomach tie up in knots while her brain kept serving up fantasies about kissing Roscoe LeGrand.

No, a woman like Paulette would just march right over there and make it happen.

Maybe I should be channeling Paulette instead of Savannah Hart…

The game continued on, but Ally was too distracted to mark her card now. Instead she watched Roscoe helping Mrs. Dunn, wondering if he had any clue just how damn charming he really was.

Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing, girl. Don’t let that sweet smile fool you…

Ally swatted the thought away. She didn’t need the warning; warnings were for people in danger, and she was perfectly safe. She’d already promised herself that this thing with Roscoe wasn’t going very far, emotionally speaking. So what if she couldn’t stop staring at his mouth, wondering what it would feel like to be pressed up against the wall while Roscoe shoved his hands through her hair and claimed her in a passionate kiss. She’d prepared herself for a possible kiss tonight, right? And so what if that kiss happened to lead to a little bit more…

A bolt of raw desire shot through her body, making her insides throb. Her thoughts ran away with her. All she could imagine now was Roscoe, unzipping the back of her dress, kissing his way down her body as he peeled off her clothes. Roscoe, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it drop to the floor as Ally reached for the button on his jeans and slid her hand down against the hot, smooth skin of his abs…

As if he could read her scandalous thoughts, Roscoe looked up at her again and caught her eye, his warm smile curving into something hot and dangerous.

I shouldn’t like him so much. I shouldn’t even be thinking about letting this happen.

Despite the alarm bells clanging in her head, Ally could not stop staring at his lips. Her body was sending her all the signals, all the signs that she wanted him—really, really wanted him. It was probably a bad idea, but at some point between the threesome joke and the bingo boinkers, she’d lost her ability to think rationally.

For the first time in years, the idea of being with another man—really being with him—filled her belly not with hot, sticky fear, but with anticipation.

Excitement.

Red-hot lust.

Roscoe tapped her foot with his again, only this time, he didn’t stop there. He slid his foot between hers until their calves were touching. The small gesture felt shockingly intimate, and Ally’s eyes darted around the table, certain everyone could tell what was going on just by the blush in her cheeks.

Everyone was still fixated on their cards, though. So Ally let her eyes flutter closed. In her little fantasy land, everyone around them disappeared, the table evaporated, and Ally climbed into his lap, straddling his muscular thighs, losing herself in the powerful grip of his big, strong hands on her ass as she rocked her hips against him…

She shifted in her chair, hoping to relieve some of the pressure pulsating between her thighs, but that slight movement rubbed her in exactly the right spot to make everything infinitely worse. It wasn’t helping that the world’s sexiest man was giving her fuck-me eyes across the table, heat emanating out through his jeans onto her bare leg like a beacon calling her away to some hot, delicious place. All she had to do was follow it, let him take her where her body wanted—no, needed—to go.

You are a grown woman. You have every right to feel these things, so let yourself. Let it happen. Just have fun…

It was crazy, it was out of character, and it was definitely out of her comfort zone, but Ally finally ceded control to her physical body. It felt like letting go of the rope in tug-of-war, and the instant she did, her entire body was swept up in a current of desire so strong she was certain everyone around her could feel it. She bit her lower lip and looked into Roscoe’s eyes again, willing him to read her thoughts. Letting him right in.

Her eyes darted toward the exit, then back again.

Roscoe cocked an eyebrow, the mischievous glint in his eyes making her even more desperate for his touch. Ally nodded once. She was so far gone on him, so drunk on the entire fantasy, that she didn’t even feel bad when Roscoe rose suddenly from his chair, making up rapid-fire excuses for why they needed to leave.

Ally got up next, babbling her hasty goodbyes and passing her remaining bingo cards to Lorraine. She was pretty sure she’d handed over most of her brain, too, because when Roscoe grabbed her hand and led her out of the community room, down an abandoned hallway, and into a pitch-black staff room at the end of the building, the only thought that popped into her mostly empty head was: I hope to God he brought a condom.