Nolan should never have told Connor any of it. But, dammit, he’d never been this flummoxed by a woman. “We went out,” he’d said to his friend that morning, before the show got underway. “We had a great time. And now, crickets. I even left my card inside the coffee mug I returned. But no email, no text, no call, no anything.”

“Baffling,” Connor had said dryly.

“What?”

“Oh, come on, Nolan. Have so many women been chasing you that you forgot that some women aren’t celebrity chasers? Maybe she didn’t want her life blasted across the airwaves.”

“My entire life is a goddamn morning show,” Nolan had said. “It’s just a routine. And she was anonymous.”

“But it’s not her routine,” Connor had replied. “And it wasn’t anonymous to her.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Nolan had retorted, because he hated when his friend was right. But he didn’t riff on the date at all. Instead, he played Simon & Garfunkel’s The Sound of Silence without commentary. Just because.

By the time the show ended, he wanted to bang his head against a wall. He’d been off the entire morning, his energy sucked down a well drilled by Connor’s words.

The worst of it was that he was filling in tomorrow because Wayne, the usual Saturday morning host, was on vacation. Which meant he had one more day of fumbling like an idiot on the airwaves instead of chilling and getting his mojo back.

Well, hell.

He considered getting a second opinion from Amanda, but he didn’t need it. Connor was right. Nolan had been living in his little bubble of bliss, and—just like he did with everything—he blew it out across the airwaves.

But, goddammit, he wanted to see her again. Which meant that somehow, he had to make this right.

He waited until five-thirty, hoping she’d be home from work, then drove to her house. Once again, her car was in the drive. And, once again, he climbed the steps. Two quick knocks, and then he waited on the porch, shifting his weight from foot to foot even as he told himself that he was wasting his time, because she wasn’t going to open the damn door.

But then he felt the vibrations on the porch as someone inside the house hurried across the living room for the door. He heard her call, “You’re early! Hang on!” And he held his breath as the latch clicked and she pulled the door open.

“You said six—oh! Nolan.”

He saw her move to shut the door, and took a step forward. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t slam the door.”

“I wasn’t going to,” she said, but she stood in the doorway and blocked the entrance, so she clearly had no intention of letting him in, either.

“You look nice,” he said, which was true. But she also looked different enough that if he’d seen her on the street, he might not have recognized her. She wore a tailored gray suit and a white button-down shirt. Her shoes had closed toes, low-heels, and resembled something his mom might wear to church. She was wearing stockings, but he had a feeling they were of the pantyhose variety, and that there was no sexy garter hidden under the trim skirt.

Inexplicably, just the sight of her in that buttoned-up outfit made him want to pull her close and kiss her hard.

“What do you want, Nolan?”

“What? Oh, I told you. I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blasted all that about us on the radio. I was—it’s just that I don’t have much of a filter when I’m doing my show. That’s the schtick that keeps the ratings up. But I should have considered your feelings.”

“That’s a really nice apology,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. That had been remarkably easy. “Listen, I’m about to go get a bite. Want to join me?”

“Oh.” She licked lips that he desperately wanted to kiss. Maybe they could order in…

“Um,” she said, not quite meeting his eyes. “I really can’t.” She looked up, her expression pleading. “I had a great time on Wednesday. Really. And I really do accept your apology. But that girl from Wednesday—she wasn’t really me.”

“Aliens? Pod people? Clones?”

She rolled her eyes. “I was wasted.”

He stepped forward, and since she held her ground and continued to block the entrance, they were only inches from each other. Awareness crackled between them, and from the cornered, desperate look in her eye, he was certain he wasn’t the only one who felt it. “You weren’t wasted,” he said simply. “We worked pretty damn hard to establish that.”

“I was overwhelmed,” she amended.

“I have that effect.”

“Look, Nolan. Please, just go.”

“Come on, Shelby. We had a good time together. Let’s grab some dinner and just talk this time.”

“I—I—”

“What?”

“I’m seeing someone,” she blurted. “His name’s Alan. He’s a professor.”

“Oh.” For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say, and he realized that her little confession hit him harder than he’d like.

“I know I shouldn’t have—I mean, at the bar—but I really was wasted at first. And I really did have a good time with you, but I never meant to start something, and I didn’t think that you did either, and—” She cut herself off abruptly, as if she’d simply run out of words.

Nolan considered making it easy on her and simply walking away. Except that wouldn’t be easy on him. And maybe he was making excuses, but he’d held her in his arms. He’d felt her body tremble around his. Maybe she did have a boyfriend, but she wanted Nolan. He was certain of it.

So he stayed, and he looked pointedly at her left hand, and then back up at her eyes. “I don’t see a ring. And I don’t see your guy.”

“I—well, no. So?”

He lifted his brows and flashed a wide, wicked grin. “All’s fair in love and war.”

“This isn’t about love or war.”

“All’s fair in sex and sin. Better?”

Her lips twitched, but she got herself under control and shook her head. “Listen, Nolan. We’re not really … compatible.”

He reached out, then twirled a strand of her hair around his finger before gently tracing her jawline. “Aren’t we?” She trembled under his touch, and a sweet shot of victory raced through his veins.

She drew a noisy breath. “I’ll admit a bit of a weakness for you, but that’s only because I don’t really date that much and you—”

“Fascinated you? Titillated you? Aroused you?”

“Unnerved me,” she said firmly.

“Yeah?” He flashed his best seductive smile. “I’m happy to unnerve you again.”

“Please. I have a date, and you need to go.”

A date? He turned, then saw a Lexus turn onto her street.

“Please,” she said, a note of panic in her voice.

“All right,” he said, then paused at her steps to turn back. “But just so you know, Ben Franklin is my personal hero.”

Her brow furrowed as she shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“If at first you don’t succeed…” He trailed off with a shrug. “Call it fair warning.”

She rolled her eyes. “Benjamin Franklin never said that.”

Nolan frowned, then pointed at her. “Maybe not,” he conceded. “But he should have.”

---

Shelby stood by the front door of her parents’ house, her hand clasped in Alan’s as they said goodnight to the small group of faculty members who’d come over for the evening.

“This man is going places.” The dean clapped his hand on Alan’s shoulder as he smiled at Shelby. “He’s a good one.”

“I know,” she said, forcing a smile. Usually she loved faculty dinners at her parents’ house, but tonight had bordered on painful. It was Nolan’s fault, of course. His promise—no, threat—that he wasn’t going away. And, honestly, she didn’t need that kind of complication in her well-ordered life.

She sighed as she closed the door behind the last guest, feeling like a walking, talking lesson in not breaking your own rules.

“Something wrong?” Alan asked, as he stroked her cheek, his brown eyes dark with worry.

“I’ll second Alan’s question,” her mother said. “You were very quiet tonight.” She was a tall woman with the build of a ballerina. She tended to wear her hair up except when she was home alone, and the style only made the resemblance more apparent. Now, she pulled out the pins and let her dark hair fall around her shoulders. It was the only feature they had in common, and Shelby was grateful to have inherited her mom’s lovely hair.

“It’s nothing,” she assured them, leaning up against her father’s broad chest and relaxing into his hug. “Just some stuff going on at work.”

“Trouble?” her mother asked. “Because you need to keep in mind that corporate policy and rules are in place for a reason. Just like the rules of academia. You follow them, you climb the ladder, and once you’re at the top, the view is much clearer. Right now, your view is blocked by everyone else trying to climb up with you.”

“I know, Mom.” She appreciated her parent’s work ethic and their tenacity. But the advice really didn’t apply. Not that she intended to share the real issue with her mother. Not ever. But certainly not with Alan around. “It’s just a snafu with an audit,” she lied. “The client didn’t turn over some information and he’s made his life horribly messy—and mine along with it.”

That was true enough. But as she already had a plan for dealing with the Thompson audit, that wasn’t what was weighing on her mind.

“You’ll work it out,” Alan said, tilting her chin up and stealing a kiss. “You’re too good not to.”

“Thanks.” She relaxed against his long, lean body, breathing deep and remembering that this was exactly what she wanted. A man to support and understand her. A home where real problems were handled, not joked about, and things were discussed in private, not on the damn airwaves.

“Hey,” Alan said, loosening her arms. “Love the affection, but I’m also a fan of breathing.”

“Sorry,” she said, forcing a smile. “I got carried away.” Wasn’t that the truth?

“You’re sure you’re not upset with me?” Alan asked, as they all made their way to the kitchen-dining area, where Shelby loaded the dishwasher as Alan cleared.

“You mean about tomorrow? Don’t be silly.”

Alan had learned only that morning that the department expected him to give a speech next week to visiting faculty from three foreign universities. And even though they were supposed to go to Celia’s wedding together on Saturday, she’d assured him that she had no problems going alone if he needed to use that time to prepare for such a big opportunity.

“I know how tight your schedule is. And I’m more than capable of eating wedding cake and sitting with my friends all by myself.”

“And you want to do your best,” her father said, passing Alan a glass of port. “We’re very proud of you.” He gave Shelby and her mother a drink, too, and they all toasted Alan’s success.

“What about you, sugar?” her dad asked. “When will we see you make partner?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know Frank’s rooting for me, but the partners won’t offer me even a junior partnership until I’ve handled a larger corporate account.” She already did consulting work for a number of small corporations, often with only one or two employees. It was great training, but if she wanted to be a partner, she needed the experience she’d get from a long-term project doing in-depth consulting with a large local or nationwide company.

Since she did want to be a partner, that was something she talked with Frank about on a regular basis. And she knew he was keeping his eyes open, watching the client list with an eye to assigning her a partnership-track project. “The company’s doing a lot of outreach right now, so new clients are flooding in. I’m crossing my fingers I get a new assignment soon.”

“You could always teach,” Alan said later, after they’d said goodbye to her parents and were back in Shelby’s living room. “We could work side by side. And someday we could host faculty parties like your parents.”

She looked up at him, surprised. She’d always assumed they were on the same wavelength about the future, but just as they’d never talked about being exclusive, they’d also never talked about settling down.

“I don’t think I want to teach,” she said, sidestepping that particular elephant in the room. “I like getting my hands dirty.”

“Do you? Well, maybe we can get dirty together.” He pulled her into his arms, and she waited for a sensual tingle that flat-out didn’t come. “We could sweep the kitchen. Wash the dishes. Or we could get dirty in other, more interesting ways.”

He brushed a kiss over her lips, but she pulled back, smiling in a way that she hoped didn’t look forced. “Could I take a rain check? I’m really tired, and my head’s been hurting ever since I drank that port.”

Most of all, I don’t want to sleep with you.

The bare truth washed over her, both scaring and saddening her. Because this was Alan. Her perfect guy. The guy who satisfied all of her checkboxes. And he was talking sex and suggesting a home together.

She should be turning cartwheels.

But she wasn’t.

Her whole life, she’d known how she wanted her future to look. So why was it that lately her vision had skewed?