Julie left soon afterward to check in on Felix. She shot Ben a text message that read, “Mission still a go for tonight. (Air Force lingo, right?)”

With the rest of the day’s tours cancelled, he and Tobias closed up early. Tobias went home to his new family, while Ben decided to surprise Julie with the most romantic meal he could think of. Would flowers be overboard? What about a chocolate hazelnut torte from Pie in the Sky?

What if she couldn’t make it after all?

When she finally tapped on his door, he felt a rush of relief so strong, it rivaled a safe landing in an A-10. She hasn’t changed her mind. He took a breath and opened the door for her.

At the sight of her, his jaw dropped. She wore a silky little clingy dress that hit her mid-thigh, along with some kind of sky-high heels that made her legs look endless. She held a bottle of red wine, about the same shade as her dress. He could drink her up in one gulp.

As he stood gaping at her, she sniffed the air. “Lasagna? Seriously, you made lasagna?”

“I checked my notes. Still your favorite.” He shook himself out of his stupor and opened the door farther. She walked in, her dress swirling around her hips, so sexy he couldn’t breathe. He nearly groaned out loud at the throbbing in his cock.

How the hell was he going to make it through an entire dinner? And dessert? Maybe he could toss that torte out the window before she even saw it. And why had he bothered with appetizers—crackers and gorgonzola and olives? What a frickin’ waste of time! This was going to take forever. What if they didn’t have forever? What if Felix needed her? She could get a call and leave at any moment, leaving him with a terminal case of blue balls. Were there any medical consequences to blue balls?

Crazy thoughts like these ran through his head as she stepped into his condo. The space had a simple layout, with the living and dining room separated only by a bookcase, and a pass-through window from kitchen to dining room. He’d only been living here for a few weeks, since Carolyn and Sarah had moved into the farmhouse. But at heart, he was a homebody, and he’d taken care to make the space the way he wanted it. A rug he’d bought in Greece covered the living room floor, and embroidered throw pillows from Turkey added a touch of color to the couch.

Julie walked through the living room to the dining room table, where she set down the bottle of wine. Tall tapers burned in wooden candleholders he’d found at an outdoor market in Afghanistan. They were carved into the shape of horse heads, and had so much personality that he’d paid outrageously for them. She touched one on its flared wooden nostrils and smiled.

Then her gaze traveled to the bouquet of early tulips that he’d acquired from Brianna’s greenhouse. They sat in a vase that his mother had found at a vintage store.

“I remember that vase,” she said softly. “Milk glass, your mom called it.”

He couldn’t answer. Right now, he felt so exposed, so laid bare. It was crystal clear how much effort he’d made for this dinner. How much he wanted to impress her. How much she mattered to him. Even down to the music playing on his iPod speaker—Whitney Houston, who had always been Julie’s favorite singer as a teenager.

Would his need for her, his desire, scare her away? Should he have played it cool, the way he usually did? Six-pack and an order of takeout, with the highlight being a strip of condoms?

Slowly, she turned to face him. The candlelight made her eyes glisten like dark liquid jewels. “You did all this for me,” she whispered.

“Well, the UPS guy couldn’t make it, so I guess it’s all about you,” he quipped. But his joke was off, and they both knew it. There was too much strong emotion coursing between them. “Hey, if it’s too much, don’t worry about it. We can take those tulips to Knight and Day. And you know how Tobias is with lasagna.”

She sniffed. “Don’t say that. I love it.” With one finger, she blotted the tear about to roll down her face. “I remember when the only thing you knew how to make was beef jerky on crackers. It’s just—this is amazing, because no one has cooked a meal specifically for me since Mom died.” Her mouth quirked into a smile. “And that was probably vegan and gluten-free.”

His heart just about melted away. In two steps, he was at her side, his arms around her. “Aw, man. And I loaded this up with cheese. What was I thinking?”

She laughed, her face lighting up. “I like how you were thinking. I wish I’d brought more than just wine.”

“Well, you did bring that killer dress.” He slid his finger under the edge of her neckline to the silk of her skin. In the candlelight, she was luminous as a star. “That’s worth about a month of lasagnas.”

“I made a quick shopping trip. I had nothing that would catch the eye of a dashing pilot.”

“Everything you wear catches my eye.”

She leaned toward him, lips parting, pupils darkening.

He bent down and did what he’d been wanting to do since the first moment she’d walked back into his life. He touched his lips to hers.

And there it was. The sizzle. The fire. The electric connection he’d never felt with anyone else.

They used to kiss for hours at a time. During the two years they’d been together, they’d probably racked up a couple of months’ worth of kissing. And it all came back, like riding a bike. Eyes closed, he moved his mouth against hers, savoring every sensation, every warm puff of breath, every sweet meeting of soft flesh. He loved her lips, and he knew them so well. That plump swell of the lower lip, the little upward curve on the right corner. And then there was the little chip in one of her teeth, a tiny roughness that sometimes caught him short.

That was gone, he realized. She’d seen a dentist in LA. Of course she had. One tiny change among thousands.

Like the curve of muscle along her spine. She had more sumptuous, mouthwatering flesh there now. And the way it flared into her hips, with that bodacious swell, oh my God. She was all woman now. And when she drew away from him, gasping for breath, the woman looking at him had all the heat and passion of an adult, not a tentative girl.

“Would you take it as an insult if I suggest we hold off on dinner?” she said breathlessly. “I want it. Every bit of it. But I want you more.”

He growled deep in his chest, filling his hands with the firm globes of her ass. “I was going to say the same thing. I was afraid of coming off like a horny kid.”

She cupped the front of his pants, where a hard bulge met her fingers under his black jeans. It was a bold move, one she wouldn’t have made as a teenager. “Reminds me of my favorite horny kid,” she whispered. “The one named Ben Knight.”

“Name sounds familiar. But I can’t think right now.” His voice sounded raspy, like sandpaper. He pulled away, then took her hand in his, ready to lead her to the bedroom.

“Wait one second.” He released her hand so she could bend down and unfasten the ankle straps of her stilettos. “I can’t handle one more minute in these torture shoes. The sales clerk made me buy them, said they were guaranteed to get your attention. She didn’t warn me that I might be crippled by the end of the night.”

“Honey, if you’re crippled by the end of the night, it’s going to be for an entirely different reason.” He winced. “Uh, that didn’t really come out right. I meant it in a good way. Like we’re going to be at it all night long. Until we’re so exhausted, neither of us can walk. That kind of crippled.”

She laughed up at him as she slipped off her second shoe. “Ben. Don’t worry. This is me. Julie. You can say anything.”

“Anything?”

“Absolutely. You know what?” She rose back to her feet, substantially shorter than she had been a minute ago. “I’ll start. Where’s your bedroom?”

He put his hands on her shoulders and spun her toward his room. “That-away.”