Hope walked into her big master bedroom and shut the door behind her. She knew she should probably be nervous about having this strange man in her house, but she just wasn’t. There was something about him that seemed right to her, and it wasn’t just how good he looked with his damn clothes off. She realized she wanted to spend more time with him. He made her laugh, and damn, the man turned the tables and ended up rescuing her, making it look easy as he did it. If she had to really be honest with herself, she definitely liked how it felt when his arms had scooped her up and held her. Maybe some time with another man was just what she needed.

She undid the belt around her waist and let out a long sigh. Jesus, that felt good. Unzipping the dress, she let it fall at her feet and then walked into the adjoining bathroom, taking the lamp with her. Knowing the hot water heater would have at least fifty gallons of hot water stored, she decided to take a chance on a really quick shower. She stripped out of her panties and bra and pulled her hair out of the bun she had it in.

Turning the water on, she stepped into the shower and let the cool water run over her. Not steaming hot, but still warm enough to get her feeling a bit refreshed. Hope quickly soaped up her hair, rinsed, conditioned, and then rinsed again. Grabbing her loofah, she squeezed on some body wash and scrubbed away the dirt from the day. One more rinse, and she shut the water off. She grabbed one of the towels off the rack and wrapped it around her hair, piling it up on top of her head. Taking another towel, she dried off and then applied some lotion to her skin.

Walking out into her bedroom, she found a comfy pair of black yoga pants and her favorite long-sleeved flannel shirt and pulled them both on. Whether she should wear a bra or not had her stalled for a moment, but she wasn’t a huge breasted girl, and the flannel was thick and baggy, and really, she just wanted to be comfortable. Going back into the bathroom, she pulled the towel off her head and dried her hair the best she could. Brushing out the long, blond, curly locks, she decided to just keep it down.

She grabbed the oil lamp from the bathroom counter and made her way back downstairs. The sound of fire crackling reached her ears before she was even halfway down. The warm, smoky scent it always threw made her smile. She loved being here, power or not. As she turned into the kitchen, she could smell something else, as well. Gage was cooking?

He looked up as she entered the kitchen and smiled warmly at her. “I hope you don’t mind.” He looked at the pan on the stove, currently filled with what looked like spaghetti sauce, and shrugged. “I figured it was the least I could do since you’re stuck with me.”

“Are you kidding? If you can cook, you can stay all weekend!” She laughed and walked over to the stove so she could get a better look at what was cooking. Yep, spaghetti. Her stomach grumbled, and she looked down at it in surprise.

“Guess I’m not the only one that’s hungry.” Gage held up a bottle of wine. “Do you want a glass?”

“God, yes!” Hope took the oil lamp she was holding and set it on one of the end tables in the living room.

“Fire, wine, and cooking! This is better than some dates I’ve been on,” Hope joked as she walked back into the kitchen. He met her halfway and handed her the glass of wine, their fingertips brushing against each other in the process. The same surge of electricity and heat that his touch triggered earlier, tingled through her fingers, causing her to pull her hand back quickly, her eyes shooting up to meet his. His green eyes stared back, his expression intent.

She tore her eyes from his and walked past him toward the stove. “Do you need any help? Did you find everything okay?”

“I think I’m good. When I saw it was a gas range, I almost cried. You have no idea how hungry I am!”

Hope nodded. “For the longest time, when I was a little girl, there was a big cast iron woodstove that we did all the cooking on. Once my grandmother passed away, though, my father insisted on a putting a real stove in. My mother made him agree to gas, though, because she knew how often the power went out and wanted to make sure we could still cook if it did.”

She moved over and sat on one of the bar stools that was on the other side of the stove.

Gage added spaghetti to the now boiling water and then turned the sauce down to low. After stirring the pasta, he came around the counter and sat next to Hope. He could smell her sweet yet spicy scent, almost like cinnamon but then citrusy. He was tempted to lean down and inhale more deeply, but he didn’t want to frighten her.

“So, was it your mom or dad’s mom who lived here?” He took a sip of his wine and watched her. He thought she looked amazing in the dress he saw her in earlier, but seeing her now, in her element, in a flannel shirt no less, with her long hair damp and curling down her back, no one had ever looked more beautiful to him. He wanted to reach out and run his fingers through her hair to see if was as soft as it looked.

“It was my mom’s mom. My grandfather built this house for her, and my mom grew up here. When my grandmother died, she left it to my mother.” Hope took a sip of her wine and then got up and walked around to stir the pasta again. The way she looked then was unnerving, and he wished he could see right through her and into her soul.

“So, someday, I guess your mom will leave it to you then, huh?” Gage asked.

Hope looked back at him with a sad look on her face. “It’s already mine.”

Gage got up and walked around the counter and up to her. “I’m sorry, Hope. You’re so young, I just didn’t even think.”

She shrugged. “It’s okay. How could you know?” She took another drink of her wine, emptying her glass, then picked up the bottle and refilled it before holding the bottle up in question to see if he wanted more. He nodded, so she refilled his glass, finishing off the bottle, and then went and sat back down.

“She died six years ago. A car accident. Right before I graduated from college.”

She looked down into her wine glass and frowned. “I mean, it’s been six years, but I still miss her every day. Life just isn’t fair sometimes. I thank God for my brother. He took care of me and made sure I survived through it.”

“Is your dad still alive, or was he with her?”

“No, he’s still alive. He fell apart for a while after she died, though. He couldn’t get past his own grief to help us with ours.” She looked up with a sad smile on her face.

“It’s better now. He’s better now. He’s a good father.”

He looked at her for a long time, his face a blank mask, before replying, “I’m really sorry about your mother, Hope.”

He checked the pasta then and smiled again, trying to move past the somber conversation they’d just had. “This is ready. Want to get some plates for us?”

“Sure.” She got off the stool and started gathering the plates and silverware they would need, as he drained the pasta in a colander that was already waiting in the sink. She set the table and then went into the pantry to grab salt, pepper, and napkins. She brought another bottle of wine, too, and left it sitting on the counter on her way back to the table.

He found a large bowl and began mixing the pasta and sauce together with some tongs. “I didn’t put any meat in the sauce. I wasn’t sure if you were a vegetarian or vegan or whatever.”

“Nope, but thanks. I like my meat.” Her face turned beet red at her comment, and his mind took the same dirty turn as hers.

Eyebrows raised, he just replied, smiling, “Good to know for future reference.”

“Oh, do you plan on being around long enough to cook for me some more?” she jokingly replied. They had both sat down at the table now, and he began scooping pasta onto her plate. She held out her hand to indicate he had served enough.

“Well, you did say that I was the best date you’d had in a while.” He scooped some of the pasta on his plate and then placed the bowl on the table. Picking up his glass and tipping it toward her, he smiled smugly. “Bon appetite!”

She clinked her glass against his and took another long sip of her wine. Why did this feel so much like a date? She had planned on a quiet weekend alone, and now, she was sitting here by lamp light, in her pajamas, drinking wine and eating dinner with a complete stranger. It didn’t help that the stranger was pretty damn good looking and could cook, not to mention light a fire and drag trees out of the road. Did she mention how good he looked?

As if Gage could sense her looking at him, he raised his eyes up to meet hers and smiled. “How is it?”

Hope twirled some of the pasta onto her fork and scooped it into her mouth. “Hmmm.” She hummed while chewing. “So good!”

He smiled broadly at the compliment and continued to eat. After they both had their fill, they sat at the table drinking the rest of the wine in their glasses.

“So, you said you were here shooting a wedding? You’re a photographer then?”

He nodded his head in confirmation. “Yeah, I don’t generally do weddings, but it was for a buddy of mine’s brother who called in a favor.”

“So, what do you normally photograph then?” She had finished her wine, so she got up, gathered their dirty dishes, and walked over to place them in the sink. She held up the wine bottle in question to see if he wanted more.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, why not? Not driving anywhere. You want help opening the bottle?”

She grabbed the bottle opener off the counter. “No, thanks. I’ve got it.”

After popping the cork, she carried the bottle over to the table. “Want to go sit on the couches instead, over by the fire? It’s a lot more comfy.”

He stood up and grabbed both of their glasses. “Sure, sounds good to me. I think I’m still half-frozen from that rain.”

He set the glasses down on the long coffee table in front of the couches and walked over to the fireplace. He removed the screen, threw a few more logs on the fire, and then replaced it. When he turned around, Hope was refilling both of their glasses. She picked them both up and walked over to stand in front of the fire with him, handing him his glass. This time, when their fingertips brushed, they both looked up, eyes meeting and holding.

“So, what kind of photography?” she spat out quickly, breaking eye contact before things got even stranger, and looked at the fire.

Gage wasn’t sure anymore if it was the fire, the wine, or the way she just looked at him that was making him warm. He didn’t think he was imagining the chemistry between them, and if the electric spark he felt when she handed him his wine was any indication, she was feeling it, too.

“Mostly freelance. I work for different publications, shooting whatever they need. I prefer outside shoots, more candid subjects, like animals, people and nature.”

She nodded her head, still seemingly focused on the fire. “Any gallery showings? I’d love to see your work.”

“I’ve had a couple. It’s not my favorite thing, really. I like being behind the lens and having the attention focused on someone else.”

Hope moved over and curled herself into the corner of the closest couch and then patted the seat next to her to indicate he should sit if he wanted. “Yes, I know a few photographers, and they all say the same thing.”

He moved over to the couch and sat a few feet away from her. He was afraid of what might happen if he got too close to her right now. “I have a website. Shows a lot of my work. I’ll write it down for you.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” She took another sip of her wine, peeking under her lashes and over her glass at him.

Was it the wine, or was she eyeing him more and more as the night went on?

“What?” he asked curiously.

Hope’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment at getting caught looking at him again. “Nothing, just wondering.”

His eyebrows raised as he tilted his head. “About?”

“Um, I was just wondering where you’re from. I never asked.” She took another big sip of her wine to try to calm her nerves.

“I was born and raised in Pennsylvania. Joined the Marines right out of high school and did two tours. I moved around a lot when I got out.”

“You were a Marine?” she asked in shock.

“I am a Marine.” He raised his glass to her in salute. “Once a Marine, always a Marine.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. I think I may know only one other person that’s served in the military. God, that makes me sound like a snob, doesn’t it?” Her cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment.

He laughed. “No, not really. I mean, I guess it depends on how and where you grew up. I live in the Village now, in Greenwich. I like the vibe in the city, and it’s a great place for my work.”

Hope uncurled her legs, stretching them out across the couch, almost touching his legs. He put his wine glass down on the table and absently picked up one of her feet and starting massaging it.

Her head rolled back against the couch as a loud groan escaped her lips. “Oh my God, do you know how good that feels?”

He chuckled and continued rubbing the bottom of her foot, doing magical things with his fingers. “I think I’ve got an idea.”

“Anyway, I grew up in a small mill town, and unless you wanted to end up working at the mill, or were lucky enough to be able to get out of town to go to college, you signed up for the military. I always thought I was a tough guy, so, of course, I had to pick the Marines.” He placed her foot down gently, picked up the other one, and started rubbing that one.

“Thought you were a tough guy?” she questioned between low moans of pleasure.

“Spend a few years in combat…” He was quiet for a minute, reflecting. “You find out pretty quickly that, no matter how tough you are, shitty things happen. I saw most of it from behind a lens but plenty through a scope, as well, and more than a few of my friends died.”

She pulled her foot out of his hand and, leaning forward, placed her hands over his, looking him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, truly. I can’t even imagine.”

They stared quietly at each other for a minute. Hope ran her eyes over his features, taking him in now that he was completely dry and she was feeling a little bolder from the wine.

His hair, a medium chocolate color now that it was dry, was long, at just above his shoulders, and a bit shaggy, but it had some curl to it. He kept it brushed back away from his face, which was more rugged in nature due to the few days of scruff he sported. It caused the green of his eyes to stand out in contrast to the rest of his face. His top lip was more defined and fuller than his bottom lip, but they fit his face perfectly. He took a sip from his glass, and his tongue darted out to lick some wine off his bottom lip. She wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked. He looked up at her then and noticed she was watching him, and his mouth cocked slightly to the right in a grin.

Gage leaned forward and, pulling his hand from hers, brushed hair that had fallen forward over her face back behind her shoulders. He cupped the side of her face, swiping his thumb down her cheek and over her lips. She relished the tender feel of his hands cupping her jaw and leaned into his touch. Opening her mouth slightly, she traced his thumb with her tongue, closing her eyes at the salty taste. He moved his hand to grasp her lightly behind the head, pulling her in and sweeping his lips across hers, barely grazing them.

Hope moved closer to him and pressed her lips more firmly against his, telling him with her lips that she wanted more. He took his other hand and, reaching around her waist, pulled her even closer, never breaking contact with her mouth. She moaned in acceptance and pleasure.

She wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, running her fingers through his hair, holding it tightly, while the other grabbed the front of his t-shirt, bunching it in her fist. His tongue pushed against the seam of her lips, and she parted them for him, their kiss intensifying. Gage pulled her closer still, so she threw her leg over him as she slid against him, and his hand lowered down her back and pushed her core against his.

Hope moaned, low and guttural, as she felt his erection press against her, and instead of pulling away, rocked her hips into him. Just his kisses were making her feel more than any man had in the last five years.

Gage groaned at her rocking motions, his lips leaving hers and roving down her neck, hot and wet. Licking and then biting and sucking. She let her head fall back as she felt every nerve ending come alive, her nipples hardening, her core throbbing and wet. She had both hands wrapped around his broad back and started to pull up on the back of his t-shirt to get it off.

“Off,” Hope mumbled. “I want to feel your skin.”

He let go of her long enough to pull it over his head, throwing it on the floor next to the couch. Her hands were immediately gliding over his bare back, feeling the smoothness of Gage’s skin but also the strength in the muscles covering him. His lips found their way back to her neck, kissing her lower, unbuttoning her shirt, and then moving lower still until she felt him suck her taut nipple into his mouth. Hope moaned at the intense pleasure, as he licked and then bit lightly, suckling the rigid peak, causing her to jerk against his hardened length. He groaned in approval and shifted his body so Hope was positioned perfectly against his raging cock.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, breathing heavily. He looked up at her, his face as flushed as hers surely was.

“Don’t you dare,” was all she replied before slamming her mouth back to his, running her hands over his toned arms and then skimming her fingers through the light hair spattering his chest. This time, she moved her lips down his neck, slowly nipping and sucking as she trailed her tongue down his stomach. Once she reached the band of his sweatpants, she slipped off his lap and knelt on her knees in front of him. She pulled at the string holding up his sweatpants and started to push them down over his hips. He lifted his hips, allowing her to strip him naked.

She leaned back and looked at him, admiring every physical detail. Hope could see that the tattoo over his heart said Faith in beautiful cursive. A girl or a reminder to himself? When she brought her hand up and began tracing her fingertips over the tattooed script, Gage’s entire body tensed up and he frowned. He took her hand lightly then and brought it to his mouth where he kissed each of her fingers, sucking the tips slowly into his mouth. She felt her body quiver as he traced his way across her palm, over her wrist, and down her arm, pulling her to him as he did. When she was close enough, Hope braced her hands on his strong shoulders as he unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and pushed it back to slide down her arms.

Gage pulled her up onto her knees and then pushed her yoga pants down over her hips. She reached for them then and pushed the pants the rest of the way down her legs as he threaded his hand through her long, golden hair and around the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his again.

Hope climbed back on him, their kiss becoming more heated. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her flat stomach to his solid one and slid her wet core up against his cock, rocking back and forth. He groaned into her mouth, grabbed one of her pert breasts with one hand, a handful of her hair with the other, and pulled her head back before biting her neck, kissing her roughly.

He kissed his way up to her ear and whispered one last warning, “Are you sure about this?”

She thrust her hips and met his hardened length with her wet and heated entrance, sliding slowly up and down. She let out a pleasure-filled moan as her head fell back in desire. “Does it feel like I’m sure?”

“Holy shit, woman. You’re going to kill me,” he drawled as he pulled her head up so that he could look her in the eye.

“No, not kill you, just fuck you.” She kissed him hard and, moving her hips, slid his hard cock up and into her slick core. She gasped as her body adjusted to his size, her walls clenching around him and then relaxing as she pushed down and seated herself fully on him. No more words were needed. Their bodies did the talking as they held on to each other and felt every push, pull, and slide until they both came undone. When they were finished, Hope found herself wrapped in Gage’s arms on the couch. She pulled a blanket over them, and they held each other as they both fell into a contented sleep.