First Date Second Date

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First Date? Second Date? Copyright (c) 2007 by Sage Burnett ISBN-Ebook: 1-978--934057-71-1 Cover art and design (c) 2006 by Jinger Heaston All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law.

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FIRST DATE? SECOND DATE? By Sage Burnett

Dedication For Madison, my pal.

CHAPTER ONE Prudence glanced up from arranging books on a shelf when the shop’s door opened. A man sauntered in oozing self confidence like honey melting in a pot. A hot flash glided through her while she watched him angle over to the science fiction section. One of the books she held slipped from her hands and landed on the floor with what seemed like an extra loud thud to her. He looked over at her, noticing her for the first time. Prudence bent down and retrieved the book. His gaze did a quick cruise up and down her body. “Hey, how’s it going?” His eyes caught hers and held hers like a cat holds its catch of the day. Prudence was positive her face colored the deepest shade of red on the chart. “Oh, fine, just fine. Can I help you find something?” The man wore self confidence like a knight wore his armor. Prudence on the other hand, hadn’t found the self confidence wardrobe as of yet. “Thanks, I think I’ll just browse for awhile.” “Sure, no problem, take your time.” The book she’d just picked up slipped from her hands again. Add klutz to her charming list of attributes. The man grinned at her before he pulled a book off the shelf and started thumbing through it. A hunk with a seductive grin surpassed all the other customers who had visited her shop today. Prudence managed to get the three books in the proper order without dropping one of

them again. She reached up, touched the clip holding her hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck, then she smoothed out the creases on her black skirt. Reminiscent of a Miss America contestant she strolled over to the counter. When she passed the hunk, he turned slightly, holding her eye for a moment. Of course, Prudence looked away first. For starters, he was younger than her, probably by five or six years. Second, he was rough and rugged-looking in his faded jeans, and equally faded denim jacket. At the counter, she pretended to look through a stack of book orders, but in reality she ogled the man searching for a good science fiction read. He was tall, with wide shoulders. He turned suddenly, headed straight for her, holding a paperback novel in his hand. His blue eyes were startling, his midnight black hair like plush velvet. He slid the book on the counter. “I’ll take this one.” Oh, how she wished she read sci-fi so she could make some intelligent comments about his choice! “Will that be cash or charge?” The hunk tugged his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “Cash.” “Okay, then.” Prudence took the bill, rang up the sale on the computer cash register. When she counted back the change, his fingers brushed against the back of her hand, zapping her with male heat. She avoided eye contact with him as she bagged his book and slipped in the receipt. “You ever let your hair down?” Did he mean literally or figuratively? Prudence met his gaze. “Excuse me?” “You’ve got wild hair. That deep auburn color. Thick curls. It’s a pity you hold it

back like that.” Another hot flash rolled through her. A devilish glint flickered in his blue eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.” “Oh, yeah, right. Sure at night when I go to bed.” Had she actually said bed to this hunky stranger? A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Thanks. See you later.” The hunk turned, sauntered back out of her bookshop. As soon as the door closed behind his savory butt, Prudence grabbed a stack of papers and started fanning herself.

“Ohmigod....” ***

The next few hours passed in a daze. Prudence sold three romance novels, two mystery novels, four cookbooks and one dictionary. She couldn’t get that man out of her mind. Lots of good-looking men came into The BookMarker to browse, to buy books. If only he had paid with a credit card, then she would at least know his name. It was the first time she had seen him in the shop. There was a possibility he could have come in when her one employee, Marcy, had been on duty. At five sharp, Prudence walked to the front door, twirled the closed sign to face the street. After she locked the door, she stood at the window, as twilight lowered itself over the city of Missoula. Late March and the hint of spring was teasing the Montana residents with sunny days, cool nights, and a sprinkling of snow the day before yesterday.

Sighing,

Prudence turned, grabbed the moneybag off the counter and headed upstairs to her apartment. Saturday night and as usual she had no plans. Prudence opened the door to her apartment, turned on a lamp in the living room and

headed straight for the bathroom. “You ever let your hair down?” Why had mystery man asked her a question like that? Prudence tugged on the clip, and then loosened the band looped around her bun. Her auburn hair tumbled two inches past her shoulders. Yes indeed, she did have wild hair. Her entire life had been a bad hair day. Her hair was curly, kinky, thick, and possessed a mind of its own. She considered her hair a separate entity from the rest of her body. In her bedroom, Prudence kicked off her copper colored suede loafers, peeled her pantyhose down over her legs, and then kicked them aside. She stripped to her plain, white lace bra and cotton panties, fully intending to throw on a pair of sweat pants and baggy tee shirt. Instead she laid down on the bed, propped her hands behind her head and stared up at the ceiling. She’d been married once to a real sweetheart. Good ol’ Bob. Bob was long gone, somewhere in the Spokane area the last she had heard. Bob had the sensitivity of a neighbor’s dog doing his duty one yard over. Her apartment was cool so she hadn’t bothered to turn up the heat. Then why did she feel so damn overheated? So far at forty-one she hadn’t started menopause. So why had two hot flashes burned her while mystery man had been in her shop? She closed her eyes and pictured mystery man naked. His black hair slightly on the long side would brush against her bare breast. His irresistible blue eyes, with laugh lines spreading from the corners would be overloaded with lust for her. Then he would lower his head to her breast, devour her nipple with his full lips. Prudence fantasized about mystery man touching and kissing her in all the right places. ***

John grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator, twisted off the cap, and took a long satisfying pull off the Budweiser bottle. The woman at the bookstore kept grabbing his thoughts and wouldn’t let go. He wandered into the living room of his apartment plopping down on the couch. He’d kill to see that wild hair of hers down around her naked shoulders. There was definitely something about those big, jade green eyes of hers. “Hot damn.” John snagged the new sci-fi novel off the coffee table but didn’t open it. Instead he thumped it back and forth on his knee. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such instant attraction to a woman.

She was padded in all the right places with nice, plump

breasts. “Shit.” He took another swig of beer struggling to ignore his erection. John tossed the book back on the coffee table. He finished off his beer, wishing he knew her name, phone number, and marital status. At least he knew where she worked. *** “What’s with the starry eyed look?” Marcy asked Monday morning as she and Prudence opened the new shipment of books in the back room of the shop. Prudence glanced at Marcy, ten years her junior with a slim, trim body and short blonde hair. Today Marcy wore purple jeans and a hot pink, snug-fitting sweater. Black feather earrings dangled from her ears. Marcy never coordinated her colors. Prudence, on the other hand, wore complimentary colors, brown slack and a beige turtleneck sweater. “Earth to Prudence.” “I don’t have a starry eyed look.” If she did have a starry eyed look it was all mystery man’s fault. Since Saturday afternoon he had attached himself to her brain and hormones like barnacles to a ships hull.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you got some over the weekend. You holding out on me, boss?” Prudence made a face. “Oh, I had my usual exciting weekend. Watched TV Saturday night.” Plus fantasized about mystery man. “Cleaned my apartment yesterday.” Continued to fantasize about mystery man. “Did a little shopping.” Fantasy extended. Marcy lifted a stack of cookbooks from one of the boxes. “You need a man. You need a life. Michael says they just hired a new guy where he works. Maybe I could set you up.” Prudence made a cross with her arms in front of her. “No more blind dates.” Marcy shrugged. “So the last guy wasn’t quite your type.” “I don’t think he was any woman’s type.” “Michael highly recommended him.” “I don’t trust your boyfriend’s judgment.” Marcy grinned. “He picked me, didn’t he?” “I rest my case.” Marcy scooped up a handful of packing peanuts tossing them at Prudence. Prudence laughing dusted them off her lap. “If I do have a starry eyed look there is a reasonable explanation for it.” Marcy sat Indian-style on the floor. She dropped her elbows on her knees. “Who is he?” “How do you know it’s a he? I could have won the lottery.” “Yeah, right Prudence. Who he is?” Prudence gazed in the direction of the trashcan in the corner of the storage room. “I

refer to him as mystery man.” Marcy waved her hands in the air. “Start at the beginning.” It wasn’t like it was a lengthy story. The entire encounter with mystery man hadn’t lasted over seven or eight minutes, Prudence remembered. “He came into the shop Saturday afternoon, bought a sci-fi novel.” “Cash or charge?” “Cash.” “Damn. You don’t know his name then.” Prudence shook her head. “He had midnight black hair. Deep blue eyes. I’m talking sexy and seductive blue eyes. He was tall with shoulders as wide as Montana.” Marcy crinkled her brows. “Are you sure you didn’t dream this, Prudence? The guy sounds like some made up hero out of a romance novel.” Prudence pulled a stack of children’s books out of her box. “Oh no. Absolutely not. It’s true. He was the hunk of hunks.” “What were his hands like?” Prudence laid her hand over her heart. “Rough, rugged-looking, calloused. He accidentally touched my hand.” “Blue collar worker.” Prudence nodded. “Definitely.” “Hmmm...a blue collar worker that likes to read. So he actually has a functioning brain?” “We get lots of blue collar guys in here buying books.” “Yeah that’s true. And all they ever buy are hunting, fishing and tool books. Or some

sappy poetry book for their wife for an anniversary.” “He asked me if I ever let my hair down?” Marcy leaned forward, her eyes brimming with interest. “What did you say?” A tinge of embarrassment still lingered. “I told him when I went to bed.” “I hoped you didn’t say after I put on my flannel nightgown and hung out my plain, white, boring bra to dry overnight.” Prudence pretended to be shocked. “Of course not.” Marcy didn’t seem convinced. “You sure about that?” Prudence didn’t have to answer as she heard the front door of the shop open. “Customer.” “I’ll get it.” Marcy stood up. “Maybe it’s your mystery man.“ She shook her head. “If he’s blue collar, he’s at work today. Unless he works swing at the mill.” Prudence jumped up, nearly tripping over the cardboard boxes and stacks of books piled on the floor. She hurried to the storeroom door and peeked around it seeing that it was Mrs. Potter. Seventy-five years old, she bought one romance novel a week. The kind with lots of sex. Prudence smiled, went back to unloading books, waging a mighty war to get mystery man off her mind.

CHAPTER TWO

John tossed his tool belt in the back of his truck. “Hey, John, how about a couple of beers.” Steve Manning, one of his coworkers jogged over to him. “I think I’ll pass.” Steve stopped next to John’s truck. “Did you say pass? Saturday afternoon, twelve hour days all week building these damn houses and you’re passing on a few cold ones.” John nodded. “You heard me right.” “You got a hot date?” He might if he played his cards right. He planned on visiting the BookMarker before closing. John shrugged. Steve slapped him on the shoulder. “Have a good one then.” He strode over to his truck parked in front of John’s. “See you Monday,” John said as he climbed into his truck. John started his truck, still fixated on the woman at the bookstore. He wanted to get to know her better, then bed her. And not in that order. He hoped like hell she was working today. Because if she wasn’t he had no idea how to get in touch with her. Forty-five minutes later John parked his truck down the block from the BookMarker. He knew it was gamble she would even be available late on a Saturday afternoon. Hell, she could be married, engaged, or have a steady boyfriend. The only things he knew about her was that she worked at the bookstore, had wild, sexy hair, and a body that wouldn’t quit.

John climbed out of his truck and strode toward the shop. When he reached for the doorknob his fantasy woman appeared, followed by shock spreading across her face. *** Startled, Prudence jumped back when she spotted the man peering through the window at her. Then his face split into a disarming grin. It was mystery man. Normally she discouraged last minute customers unless she knew them or it was Christmas. Prudence opened the door. “Can I help you?” Her heart beat like an angry drummer boy and a hot flash lurked just around the corner. “Sorry,” he said. “I thought you closed at five-thirty, instead of five. I was out of reading material. I finished the book I bought last week.” This man stood only two feet from her in his sinful, faded jeans and plaid flannel shirt was out of reading material on a Saturday night. There was something insanely wrong with this picture. “No problem.” Mystery man brushed past her. He smelled clean, like Irish Spring soap. His black hair was slightly damp at the ends, so he was fresh out of the shower. Visions of showering with him clouded her brain. “I know which book I want so it won’t take long.” Mystery man said. Prudence waved her hand. “Go ahead, find your book.” “You’re sure it’s not a problem? It’s Saturday night and you probably have a date or plans.” Prudence’s eyes widened. She shook her head, not sure what to say. She wasn’t about to admit she didn’t have a date on a Saturday night, not to hunky, mystery man.

“I’ll hurry,” he said. Mystery man ambled over to the shelf of sci-fi novels again. Prudence shut the door, flipped the closed sign to the street side. She spun around, leaned back against the door and savored him. After all, he had filled her fantasies for the past week. She might as well drink in more of him for the coming weeks fantasies. He glanced up from the book he was scanning. “What’s your name?” Mystery man wanted her name. He probably felt obligated since she had to wait around for him to pick out a book. “Prudence Marshall.” “John Wilder,” he paused. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prudence Marshall.” John.

A nice, normal name. Mystery man now had an identity. Prudence smiled.

She noticed the twinkle in his blue eyes, which did heavenly things to her tummy. “I see you still have your hair up?” Prudence automatically reached back and touched her bun. “It’s easier for work.” John turned to face her. “What about play?” Prudence lifted a shoulder. “Depends on what I’m playing.” Her answer produced another grin from him.

Swoon.

Her mother’s generation

swooned. She could definitely get into swooning over this man. “Found one.” He held up a paperback. Disappointment booted her out of fantasyland back to reality. “Great.” She headed toward the counter, while John fell into step with her. She glanced up at him from her medium height, catching him watching her. She prayed he wasn’t a stalker or some kind of pervert. No, she hadn’t gotten those kind of vibes from him. When it came to picking men she’d always managed to select the one and only lulu in the crowd.

“Cash or charge?” she asked as she angled around the counter. “Do you ever get tired of asking that?” Prudence rolled her eyes. “It’s a habit, like smoking. I don’t even think about it anymore.” John pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “You like Chinese food?” Were her ears playing tricks on her? John Wilder couldn’t be asking her for a date. “Yeah. Who doesn’t?” “One of the guys I work with hates it.” “No kidding? I thought everybody in the world loved Chinese.” “There’s a few diehards out there.” Prudence counted back his change. She watched him pocket it. “Have you ever eaten at the place down the street?” Prudence wove her fingers together to keep them from shaking with anticipation. “All the time.” She usually had it delivered, ate it from the cartons while watching TV or a movie. “I’m new in town so I haven’t tried it yet.” “Good food. Where are you from?” Hunk land. “Billings. With the housing boom here, I decided to work in Missoula. It’s a chance to make some decent money.” Prudence nodded. Brain circuits refused to cooperate. “If you don’t have a date tonight Prudence, I’d like to buy you dinner.” Mystery man, John Wilder, had just asked her to dinner. It wasn’t politically correct,

she realized. A man was supposed to call by Wednesday night. Or was it Thursday? When she didn’t answer, John said. “No big deal. If you’re busy, I understand.” “Oh no. I have no plans,” she said in a casual tone. “Why don’t I pick you up in an hour? Where do you live?” Beam me up, Scotty. “Sounds good. Above the shop.” “Convenient.” John picked up his book. “I’ll see you in an hour.” Prudence smiled and knew without a doubt she was a swooning fool. *** Prudence was dressed and ready in forty-five minutes. She had showered, dabbed her favorite perfume in all the right places, including behind her knees. Marcy had once told her that was a real turn on to men. Not that John would be sniffing behind her knees, but a girl could dream. She checked herself in the mirror one last time. She wore jeans, a black long sleeved top and an olive green blazer. Marcy had also told her on more than one occasion that she had no panache when it came to clothes. She did have a matching green clip holding her hair in place. Prudence left her apartment, went down the stairs and sat down on the chair behind the counter. Panic fluttered inside of her. John had probably asked her out because he was new in town, bored, and hadn’t made any friends yet. She rubbed her palms down her jeans, swallowing back the anxiety attack. Fifteen minutes passed like a slug inching its way across green grass. At one minute past six she heard the knock on the shop door. Prudence stood up, knocked her purse off the counter. When she bent to pick it up, she bumped her head on the edge of the counter.

“Damn.” He knocked again. Rubbing her forehead, she raced over to the door, fumbled with the lock and finally got it open. John stood there in new blue jeans, a rich brown, leather jacket and a sky blue shirt underneath it. The blue of the shirt did wild things to his eyes. “Hi.” “Hi yourself. My carriage awaits.” Prudence giggled as she locked the door behind her. John held out his arm, so she wrapped her arm around his. He was solid, like brick. Like a concrete wall. There was nothing like a rock hard man to make a woman crumble. He led her a short distance down the sidewalk to a monster four wheel drive, king cab, red truck. When he opened the door for her, Prudence nearly melted. A gentleman in blue jeans that drove a big truck. This was a first for her. Most of her men drove economy compacts, were near sighted and wore khaki slacks. When John climbed inside, Prudence said. “What do you do for a living?” She couldn’t think of a sexy come on about his truck. “Carpenter. I build houses. I’m working on the New Maple Leaf subdivision on the edge of town.” No wonder he felt like a solid brick. And why had she always went for meter readers and video store managers? “That explains the big truck.” “That’s part of it,” he said as he pulled away from the curb. “I like big trucks.” Prudence had lost her virginity on the passenger bucket seat of a Toyota when she was eighteen to Tommy Myers. She imagined John having his way with her in the lush, comfy seat of his truck. She cleared her throat.

“So you own the BookMarker?” “Yeah. I bought it five years ago when the owner was ready to retire. I worked there for two years before Chuck decided to retire. He made me a deal I couldn’t refuse.” “I’m a science fiction fan, but you probably already figured that out.” “I know what my regulars like to read, unless they come searching for a gift.” John rolled his truck into the side parking lot of the restaurant. Before he could come and fetch her Prudence had already climbed out. He shut the door. “Hey, Prudence. That’s my job.” “Oh, sorry. I’m not used to men opening doors for me.” John grabbed her hand, leaned and whispered in her ear. “Get used to it, Prudence. I’m old-fashioned at heart.” It had taken less than ten minutes to get to the restaurant and John had already hinted at another date. His big, calloused hand sent sparks of electricity through her. She imagined both of his big calloused hands roaming her bare body. Prudence needed someone to slap her out of this crazy dream because she certainly couldn’t do it herself. There was simply no other explanation. It was a dream. A man like John didn’t date women like her. John glanced at her when he held the restaurant door open. As she breezed by him, she noticed amusement dancing in his eyes. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” John placed his hand on the small of her back while they waited to be seated. “Don’t you think eating Chinese is fun?” Prudence considered his question, her brows knitted together. “I think it’s great fun.”

“Then why is your hair still up in a bun?” Prudence was spared having to answer when the hostess led them to a table in the far corner of the large room. After they were seated, John asked. “Would you like a drink?” She couldn’t hold her liquor worth spit. “No thank you.” When the waitress came to take their order, John ordered a Black Velvet and Coke. He dropped his arms on the table, gazing into her eyes after the waitress left. “Are you as safe as your name?” “Oh no, not me. I’m a wild thing.” “I bet you could be if you let your hair down.” Heat spread across her cheeks. She nonchalantly glanced around for something to fan herself with. “How do you know I’m not?” “I don’t.” John’s eyes roamed down her upper body, lingering on her breasts. “I sure wouldn’t mind finding out.” Their first date and he was already coming onto her. Not that she minded. “Oh, would you now?” John grinned, started to say something, but the waitress appeared with his drink and a plate stacked with barbecued pork and egg rolls. John picked up an egg roll, took a big bite. His lips were full. Prudence was positive his lips held the ultimate kissing power. “You said you were old fashioned.” “I am.

But people made mad passionate love back in the old days, too.

generation didn’t invent it.” Prudence picked up a slice of barbecued pork. “I’m older than you.”

Our

“Not by much. I’m thirty-five. You’re maybe thirty-eight.” “Forty-one.” “A well preserved forty-one.” Prudence bit into the pork, chewed it thoroughly before she answered. “You’re making me sound like a jar of pickles.” John laughed a deep and rich laugh. Prudence was ready to swoon again. “You’re something else, Prudence.” So are you. *** John leaned his shoulder against the door of The BookMarker. “I’ll walk you to your door.” “I’m already at my door.” Prudence said. If she let him into her apartment, things would happen. It was clear she was putty in this man’s hands, if he actually ever put his hands on her. “What if there’s a burglar hiding inside?” “Nice try.” Prudence smiled. “I have a security system. Nothing can penetrate these walls.” “Nothing, huh?” “That’s right.” “Okay, then. I guess I’ll have to say good-bye here.” John straightened, gathered her into his arms. When his full lips touched hers, heat radiated through her like missile fuel. He forced his tongue inside her mouth. Not actually forced because Prudence willing opened her mouth in invitation. Her arms circled his back.

Prudence leaned into him and felt his strength, the sexual heat radiating off him. His hard-on pressed against her tummy. Her fantasy morphed to life. Wrapped tight against John, his tongue doing delicious things to hers Prudence knew it had to be a dream. In moments she’d wake up, hot, sweaty, and needy, all alone in her bed. John pulled his lips back a fraction. His warm breath whispered at her lips. “Let me walk you to your door, Prudence.” She didn’t want him to walk her up to her apartment, she wanted to drag him up the stairs and to her bed. “I don’t think so.” Breathless. She was actually breathless. “I want to make love to you.” Prudence gazed into his eyes and saw they were filled with lust. She didn’t do onenight stands. Tomorrow morning he would scramble to find his clothes with an empty promise to call her. Prudence shook her head regret spiraling through her. She expected him to say later, but to her surprise he didn’t. “I work overtime during the week. How about next Saturday night?” Dumbfounded, Prudence stared at him. “Don’t look at me with those sexy green eyes of yours. Unlock your door and go inside.” Inside her apartment, Prudence turned on the lamps in the living room. Still feeling off balance that John wanted to see her again, she happened to glance out the window as she passed it. She stopped and pressed her nose against the glass. John stood on the sidewalk, looking up at her apartment. Prudence struggled with the window, which always stuck.

After several attempts she managed to get it open. She stuck her head through the opening. “John, what are you doing?” He grinned up at her. She had a clear view of his face because of the street lamps. “I was hoping you’d notice me.” “Is something wrong? Is your truck dead?” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “My truck is alive and well.” “Then what is going on?” “I thought maybe you might have changed your mind about letting me come up to your apartment.” Just like Romeo and Juliet. The urban version, that is. She wasn’t standing on a balcony. She was hanging out the window of her apartment, while John stood on the cement down below her.

She smiled down at him, her heart flopping around like a landed trout.

“It’s only our first date, John.” “Doesn’t mean I couldn’t come up for awhile. We could talk, watch a little TV.” She’d give him gold stars for persistence. Not to mention fluffing her ego. Still smiling, like a crazy fool, Prudence shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Her resistance was melting like snow on a forty-degree day. Prudence reminded herself she was safely locked in her apartment. She couldn’t get to him that easy. “You’re sure?” John asked. Prudence decided she was one hundred percent unsure. “Yeah, I’m sure.” “Good night, Prudence.” “Night, John.” When he turned and walked away, Prudence could have sworn his manly shoulders

slumped a bit. She watched him until he climbed into his truck. She decided if his shoulders had slumped it was because he was tired after having worked all day. *** Prudence Marshall was not an easy mark. He spent the past week with a perpetual hard on for her. “Shit.” John wasn’t in the mood for his empty apartment. He was in the mood for Prudence hot and naked in bed with him, his mouth sucking on those pretty breasts of hers. He pulled into the first bar he spotted, went inside, found an empty bar stool and ordered a beer. The live music was loud and country western. He spun his barstool around. The dance floor was packed with dancers. His eyes scanned the jumble of dancers. There were lots of good-looking, shapely women out on the floor strutting their stuff. He was used to zeroing in on an attractive woman, then making his move. The damn problem was he didn’t feel like it tonight. His mood soured when Prudence refused to let him come up to her apartment. He didn’t understand his strong attraction for her. She was older, which to him was no big deal. She was sexy, shapely, smart. A little on the quirky side and a little on the prim side. He had no sooner wheeled his stool around to face the bar, when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He spun back around again to find himself staring at a woman in her late twenties with long straight blonde hair, and a body, which under different circumstances, would definitely be worth a hands on experience. She leaned close to John. “Would you like to dance?” She smelled of rum and some kind of heady perfume. John smiled. “No thanks. Not

this time, but thanks for asking.” Her lips formed into a pout. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” John figured she was right about that. “I snooze, I loose.” “You got that right.” She circled around, hips swaying in extra tight jeans and disappeared back into the dancing crowd. Hell, he had a feeling he was losing it or getting old. Before meeting Prudence he would have shot off the barstool like a rocket launching into outer space. *** By Wednesday Prudence was in a state. She hadn’t heard a word from John. No phone call, no unexpected visit. With her extra large feather duster, Prudence walked the aisles cleaning the shelves. She’d kept busy during the morning with plenty of customers and browsers. Now the shop was empty and a bit lonely. She wished Marcy was working today so she could pour out her insecurities about John to her. Marcy knew all of her other insecurities, so she might as well know every single blasted one about John. He was younger. He was good looking in a rugged kind of way. And he could have any damn woman he wanted. Why would he want her? Six years older, with misbehaved hair, lacking the fashion gene. Today she wore navy blue slacks and a white, long, sleeved button down blouse. Was there another woman in the city who owned a more boring wardrobe than her? Prudence kept dusting, trying to ignore the possibility that John might not ever call. She didn’t own the only bookstore in town and she certainly wasn’t the only single woman in Missoula. ***

When the phone rang at four-thirty Thursday, Prudence raced around a shelf bumping headfirst into Marcy. “It’s him,” Marcy said. “I know it’s him.” Prudence straightened her sweater. “It’s a customer. He’s not going to call. He’s teetering on the edge of the politically correct time of calling for a date.” Marcy rolled her eyes. “Get real, Prudence. Answer the damn phone.” “No. You answer it. I have work to do.” “Sure you do.” Marcy spun around, her short denim skirt hiking up the back of her thighs. She straightened her yellow sweater again, which was already straight, then smoothed her middle of the knee olive green, suede skirt. Pretending not to notice Marcy gesturing wildly at her with her free arm, Prudence studied the reference books on home improvement. It was important that she kept a well-stocked inventory for the handymen in the area. “Oh, Prudence. It’s for you.” “Really now.” Prudence took her time ambling over to the counter. Marcy waved her in for the landing. When she reached the counter, Marcy shoved the phone at her face. “It’s him,” she whispered. Prudence studied her nails for a moment. She wasn’t sure why because she didn’t wear polish, so she didn’t have to worry about a chip. She took a deep breath and struggled for a cool, calm demeanor as she took the phone. Marcy rolled her eyes again, leaning against the counter to listen. “Hello.” “Prudence. Hi, it’s me.”

She should have asked. Who’s me? “Oh, hi. How are you, John?” “Beat. Been doing twelve-hour days. I would have called sooner, but every night I fall into bed after a quick dinner.” It was a reasonable excuse for not calling sooner. “Sure, I understand.” “We’re on for Saturday night. Right?” Prudence considered jumping up, her fist in the air, but she would probably sprain her ankle if she did that. “Why not?” “I have to work Saturday. How about I bring over Chinese and a movie?” Uh...oh. He was still trying to get into her apartment. Once in her apartment, her will power would fly away like loons over a lake in winter. “Are you still there?” “Oh, yeah sure. Okay that will be fine.” “I’ll be there at six thirty.” And of course she would be ready by five forty-five. “Great. I’ll see you then.” “Bye, Prudence.” She punched the off button. March snatched the phone out of her hand. “Tell me. What’s the big date?” Prudence shrugged. “It’s not a big date as you put it. He has to work Saturday. He’s bringing Chinese and a movie. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even ask what movie I wanted to watch.” Marcy waved her hand in the air to dismiss Prudence’s words. “You’re not going to be watching it. You’ll be making out on the couch by that time. The movie is just a prop, that’s all.”

Prudence sighed. “He just wants in my pants.” “Honey, if he’s as hot as you said, be glad that’s his destination.” “What if I want more than a one night fling?” Marcy crossed her arms over her chest, considered Prudence’s questions. “It can be done.” “What do you mean done?” “Second date sex. They come back for third, fourth, fifth date. It worked for my girlfriend, Roxy. She hopped into bed with David on the second date ‘cause she was quivering with lust. The next morning she made him a killer breakfast of French toast and bacon. Turned out it was his favorite. They’ve been together for two years.” “I have no idea what John likes for breakfast.” “You need to go shopping and stock up on French bread, maple syrup, pancake mix, eggs Benedict stuff.” “You’ve got to be kidding. Eggs Benedict. No, John’s not the eggs Benedict type. How about crepes? I make good crepes.” Marcy shook her head. “John’s a blue collar guy. Hammer, nails, power drills. Crepes aren’t his style, either. Trust me.” Prudence supposed Marcy had a point. “On your day off tomorrow you’re going shopping for breakfast food and new clothes.” “Now wait one cotton picking minute, Marcy. I’m not buying a new wardrobe for a second date, which could very well be the last date.” “Not if you play your cards right.” Marcy grabbed Prudence by the shoulders, shook

her. “Black. You need black, sexy lingerie. Black, black, black. Men go ape over black lingerie.” Prudence had never worn black lingerie in her life. White was her color. She had a few pink bras and underpants sets. “I don’t know.” “Repeat after me.” Marcy still gripped her shoulders. “Men go ape over black.” Prudence laughed. “You’re insane.” “No, Prudence. You’re insane if you don’t wear black.”

CHAPTER THREE

Prudence toweled herself dry, avoiding the mirror, knowing she would be naked with John in a couple of hours. That was the plan according to Marcy anyway. She rubbed jasmine scented lotion from neck to toe. If it turned out to be a one night she could handle it. She was a big girl. The major problem was John made her feel like a girl dog in heat. She had to have him. She couldn’t remember a time, even in her twenties, wanting someone as much as she wanted John. And she knew damn well she was setting herself up for a gigantic fall. In her bedroom, she eyed the lacy, black bikini panties and lacy black see through bra on her bed. Following Marcy’s instructions she had bought two black bras and three pairs of black panties. She also had her fridge filled with anything and everything to make an unforgettable breakfast. Prudence stepped into the panties then put on the bra. She turned to the mirror above her dressing table. Her eyes widening, she realized she didn’t look half bad. The bra made nice cleavage. And the panties barely covered her pubic hair. Fanning herself with her hand she went to her closet. Marcy and her hadn’t gotten past her underwear. A cozy evening at home, eating take out Chinese and watching a movie. “What to wear?” she mumbled. She decided on a pair of faded blue jeans and a pale pink clingy top she spotted

pushed to the back of her closet. Prudence didn’t remember buying the top. She must have picked it up in a moment of desperation while shopping. She put on the top, looked down and realized her black bra showed through the sheer material. She pulled it off, tossing it on the closet floor. Panic rushed through her. Ruffling through her clothes, she spotted a navy blue top with a plunging neckline. She usually wore it with a white button down blouse. It would have to do. Once she had the top on she studied herself in the mirror. No, no, no. Too much cleavage. She tried tugging at the neckline of the top but it barely covered the lace of her bra. She raced back to her closet, did another quick perusal of her wardrobe, knowing she was doomed. Heat rampaged through her because she was running late. She hurried into the bathroom, wrapped her hair into a bun. Marcy had threatened to cut off her right hand if she didn’t wear her hair down. A low cut top, without the safety net of a blouse, and new black lingerie was a bit overwhelming. A girl could only do so much. Besides, John was dying to see her hair down. Let him sweat. When the downstairs buzzer beeped, Prudence flew out of her apartment. Halfway down the stairs, she stopped and glanced down at her bare feet. In her frenzied state she’d forgotten shoes. “Ohmigod.” Her toenails were plain Jane because she didn’t wear polish. It was too late to doll up her feet as she padded down the stairs, then through the shop to the door. Struggling to keep her nerves under control, Prudence opened the door. “Whoa.” John sauntered in with a large brown paper bag, smelling of egg rolls, barbecued pork and chow mein.

Prudence closed the door wondering what he meant by whoa. She circled around to face John. He grinned at her or her cleavage. She wasn’t sure which. He bent his head, kissed her on the lips. Then he kissed her a second time, letting his lips linger. “You smell nice,” John said. “Thanks. You smell like Chinese food.” He laughed his rich, masculine laugh. “Lead the way to your private domain.” Prudence angled past him, knowing his was ogling her butt, or at least she hoped he was. At the stairs she paused, glanced over her shoulder at him. “What movie did you get?” “It’s a new one. Thriller, murder mystery. I didn’t think it is too much of guy flick.” Prudence decided that was thoughtful of him. At least he hadn’t picked up a total death and destruction film. When she led John into her apartment, which was basically one large open room consisting of kitchen and living room, jitters overtook her. Her stomach clenched while her hands grew clammy. John strode over to the kitchen table, set the bag down and then shrugged out of his leather jacket. Oh, there was something about flannel, Prudence decided. A nice black and white checked shirt, cuffs buttoned, tucked into his blue jeans. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” John started taking white containers out of the bag. “Me, too,” Prudence agreed. “I’ll get some plates.” “It’s better from the cartons.” Prudence knew that from experience. That’s how she always ate her Chinese. “I’ll just get forks then.” “Good because I don’t do chopsticks.”

“Me neither.” They sat down, passing cartons back and forth to each other. Prudence realized there was something intimate about both of them eating from the same carton. John dug a slice of barbecued pork out of a carton. “How come you’re not married, Prudence?” “I was for a few years, about ten years ago.” “What happened if you don’t mind my asking?” Prudence paused, a fork full of chicken chow mein almost to her lips. “He lacked sensitivity.” She noticed how John frowned before he went back to eating. “How about you?” “Yeah. I’m divorced, too,” John said without looking at her. Touchy subject.

Prudence was dying to know why some unknown woman would

want to divorce John, but she didn’t pry. The conversation came to a screeching halt after Prudence asked that. She stole a peek at him from the corner of her eye. John seemed intent on emptying every carton on the table. Blue-collar workers certainly had hearty appetites. Prudence laid her fork down on the table. “Split the last shrimp with you,” John said. Prudence turned just as a jumbo prawn headed toward her mouth. John held it with his fingers. There was something about the way he was looking at her. Heat pulsated inside her body. She held his eyes as she nibbled at the golden brown shrimp. “You’d better eat more than that because I can eat the whole thing in one big bite.” “You can have it.”

“Come on, Prudence, one more bite.” He held the shrimp to her lips. Still looking at him, she bit off a piece. Before she was done chewing, John kissed her. A slow, liquid kiss. Prudence needed a fan. She really ought to carry one with her at all times. She watched John polish off the remains of the shrimp. He even ate sexy. John draped his arm over the back of her chair. “Do you have any idea what you do to me when you look at me with those big green eyes of yours?” It was clear John’s mood had shifted back into seduction mode, which pleased her very much. She shook her head. He leaned close, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “It makes me want to take you right here on your kitchen table in the middle of the Chinese leftovers.” Prudence had never done it in the middle of Chinese leftovers before. “Mmmm...” The image made her nipples harden. John kissed her neck, then trailed his lips down her bare chest until he hit the neckline of her top. Next his tongue slid inside along the very edge. Prudence shifted on her chair. Doing the nasty in the middle of Chinese leftovers definitely held appeal. John’s big hand closed around her breast. “Damn, Prudence, you have nice breasts. I mean really nice breasts.” His hand possessed the magic of erotica as he massaged her breast. Prudence arched her back, while her eyes fluttered closed. “Would you take off your top and bra for me?” John asked in a raspy voice. Her eyes flew open. She stared at him. “You don’t know how damn bad I want to see you topless.” He rubbed her breast, groaned. “Your wild hair and chest reeled me in.” A flash of heat sailed through her. Prudence suddenly became conscious of what she

would do to please John. She wanted so much to please him. Some unknown feeling twined together with her emotions compelled her to do what he wanted. She reached up, plucked the clip out of her hair. John wove his hands through her hair, bringing it down around her shoulders. “Oh yeah, your hair makes me hard, too. I knew you would look sexy as hell with your hair down.” John kissed her slowly, his tongue sliding inside of her mouth. She felt his hands cup her breasts. Her fantasies were coming true and this was only the beginning. Prudence moaned into his mouth, right before he broke the kiss. “Stand up, Prudence. Take off your top and bra for me.” Prudence had been hoping he would be the one stripping her. His eyes were hooded, flooded with lust. John wanted her to strip for him. That was a first. One night. Prudence was positive she would only have one night with John. Unless the breakfast thing worked and the gods smiled down on her. Why not be a little wild? Prudence stood. John placed his hands on her hips. Taking a deep breath, she peeled off her top letting it drop to the floor. John’s eyes were glued to her breasts. He cupped both of them, fondled them, and kneaded them, found her nipples, gently pinching her aching nipples. “Oh...oh yes.” She pushed her breasts against his hands. “Now your bra.” He dropped his hands. She reached behind her, unclasped her bra, then let it slip off her shoulders, dropping to the floor also. Prudence expected him to grab her breasts, but he didn’t. Instead he just gazed at

them. John looked up at her his eyes burning with heat. “Breasts are my thing. And baby, I love your big breasts.” His hands covered them. Prudence felt like she would come at any moment. Then he drew one hard nipple between his lips and suckled. After a time he moved his lips to her other nipple. John buried his face between her breasts. With both hands he rubbed her breasts against his cheeks. Prudence dug her fingers into his hair, pressed him tighter against her. John stopped, gazed up at her. “Fondle your breasts for me.” Prudence gasped. She had never done anything like that. “I want to watch you fondle yourself.” John took her hands, settled them on her breasts. His eyes blazed with heat. “Do it for me.” He laid his hands back on her hips again. She gently massaged her breasts, feeling her panties grow damp. “Play with your nipples.” John’s voice sounded rusty, rough, strained. Prudence rubbed the palms of her hands over her nipples. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Now pinch your nipples for me.” This wasn’t part of her fancy. Never in her adult life had she ever fondled herself for a man. Prudence glanced at John, seeing the effect she had on him. His breathing was hard and his face was flushed. His fingers dug into her hips. She pinched her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, hearing herself moan. “Now fondle your breasts again.” Prudence fondled herself again, only this time harder and faster. More moans escaped

her throat. Then she started pinching her nipples again without John asking. Her hips started swaying. When she noticed that John had taken off his shirt, she paused. “Don’t stop.” So she fondled and pinched her nipples while John stood and stripped bare. Prudence stared at his huge hard-on. “Ohmigod...” John covered her hands with his. “Keep doing it,” he whispered. Together they fondled her breasts. John leaned toward her, thrust his tongue inside her mouth. Prudence sucked on his tongue, her legs starting to buckle. She broke away from their kiss. “Take me now, John.” She knew she sounded like a heroine from a historical romance, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted him inside of her. “Not yet, baby. Not yet.” “Yes. Now. I can’t stand it.” She untangled her hands from his, started unzipping her jeans. She slithered them down over her hips, kicking them aside. When she reached for her black panties, John beat her to it. Painfully slow, he peeled the black lace over her pubic mound, her thighs, knees, and ankles. His hands were hot coals rolling down her body. Prudence lifted her hips onto the table. “Now, John, now.” She slid her bare bottom across the smooth wood table, knocking over cartons of fried rice and chow mein. John put his hands on her knees spreading her legs. Their eyes caught and held. John’s eyes were hot fire pools. Prudence didn’t know what her eyes looked like. She had never been this abandoned with a man in her life. She

wanted this moment so bad it scared her. “John....” “Goddammit, Prudence. I can’t say no to you,” he said through clenched teeth. He pushed his hands under her bottom dragging her toward him. Prudence watched as he plunged inside of her. She was ready for him. “Oh...oh...oh....yes.” “Play with your tits for me, baby.” She watched him watching her start fondling her breasts. Prudence always kept her eyes closed, but not this time because John kept his gaze on her hands as he drove himself harder and faster inside of her. “Your nipples,” John said on a grunt. “Pinch your nipples.” Moaning, Prudence pinched her nipples for him. They moved in a hard, fast rhythm together. Their bodies slapped against each other’s. She was so close. She didn’t want to come yet. Prudence tried to hold back, but she couldn’t. A scream tore from her lips when she came, her body convulsing with the orgasm. John grunted, groaned and pushed harder until she felt him empty himself into her. He leaned over her laying his head on her breasts.

CHAPTER FOUR

John stood up, gazing down at Prudence, her shapely body flushed with the afterglow of sex.

Her wild hair fanned across her bare shoulders. His eyes feasted on her plump

breasts topped with big nipples. He raked his hands through his hair dying to take her again. Her eyes were filled with wonder, affection. He didn’t want Prudence to fall for him because he didn’t want to hurt her. But damn it, he was going to have the whole night with her. “Where’s your bedroom?”

He held out his hands to her. Prudence took his hands

while he tugged her off the table. “Down the hall and to the right.” John scooped her up in his arms. He grinned when he heard Prudence’s little squeal of surprise. Her bedroom was girly girl. Her bed was covered with a pink spread with tiny roses scattered across it. Her curtains were pink and white. John went to the bed and laid Prudence down, then settled himself on top of her. He kissed her, nibbled at her lips, her cheek, her ear, hearing her sigh, every single time his lips touched her. He was a hard again. That’s what Prudence did to him. “You’re so damn special, Prudence,” he whispered in her ear. He raised his head looking down at her seeing her smiling.

“So are you,” she said. “Nope. I’m just an average guy who pounds nails all day.” “A hunky guy that pounds nails all day.” John laughed. “So you think I’m a hunk, huh?” Prudence framed his face with her hands dragging his head down for a kiss. While Prudence kissed him, the fire built inside his body, John warned himself to take it easy, to be careful. Prudence was too special of a lady to hurt. He was lousy at real relationships. Relationships never seemed to work for him. John moved down her body, kissing and fondling her breasts, taking his sweet time with her lush breasts. When he had his fill, he kissed down her body, feeling her squirm, listening to her moan until his lips found her clit. Her hips swayed beneath him as he pleasured her and himself with his tongue. Her throaty moans and gyrating hips made it damn near impossible for him to control himself. Prudence came with a rush of throaty moans. Breathing hard, fighting to control himself, John climbed up her body. He thrust inside of her, at the same time he capturing her lips, and swallowing her womanly moan. Her fingernails grazed down his back. His hand sought out her breast. He caressed it, teasing her nipple. “Come on, baby, come for me.” His teeth were gritted together so tight, his jaw hurt. “Oh...John...” When he felt her body give way to another orgasm, and heard Prudence cry out in pleasure, John was a half second behind her.

***

After a few minutes John rolled off of her and fell onto his back. When he turned his head to look at her, Prudence decided he was sexier after sex if that was impossible. They smiled into each other’s eyes. She knew for a fact they didn’t have to ask each other if it was good. Spectacular, out of this world, over the top... John shifted on his side to face her. “Does my thing for breasts bother you, Prudence?” He reached for her breast, gently massaged the soft flesh. “Oh.” It was hard to concentrate with his hand caressing her. “Your breasts are perfect. I have big hands. They fit my hand like a glove.” He bent his head to her breast and suckled her nipple for a time. He started licking her breast, with big, wide strokes of his tongue. John paused. “You never answered my question, Prudence.” Prudence, eyes closed, her hips starting to move, murmured. “What question?” “My thing for breasts.” She had never fondled herself while making love.

Doing it for John had been

seductive, powerful, when she had witnessed what it did to him. Being so abandoned with a man made for mind-blowing sex. “No,” she finally whispered. “My ex-wife thought I was weird.” “Is that why you got divorced?” His hand stilled on her breast. “No. There were other reasons.” Prudence noticed his jaw tighten. It was clear John’s divorce was a sore subject with him. She wondered if his divorce was recent. In that case, she could be his rebound woman and she wasn’t sure she liked that. forehead, cheek, and lips.

Prudence wrapped her arms around him, kissing his

“Ah...Prudence. You’re getting to me.” Before she could ask John in what way, he kissed her with such feral intensity that Prudence decided it didn’t matter. *** The next morning Prudence blinked a couple of times to chase the sleep away. She rolled to her side so she could watch John while he slept. He was on his stomach, the blankets pushed down to his waist exposing his broad back. The dreaded morning after. This is why she didn’t do one-night stands. She needed to make him an unforgettable breakfast, but she wondered if it would matter one way or the other. A bad feeling had lodged inside her tummy last night after John said. ‘You’re getting to me.’ Prudence slipped out of bed, showered, then dressed in jeans and a blue sweater. She peeked in at John on the way to the kitchen seeing that he was still asleep. Out in the kitchen she stopped and groaned out loud at the mess. Leftover Chinese food was spilled on the table, floor and one of the chairs. She grabbed a garbage bag from under the sink and went to work cleaning up the mess. She remembered how the kitchen had been turned into a disaster area. Wantonness had gripped her tight in its clutches last night. She had abandoned herself to John and with John. Last night had been a first for her. Pure animal, hot, sweaty sex. She gathered up their clothes carrying them to her bedroom. On tiptoes she moved around the bedroom so she wouldn’t wake John. Prudence made blueberry pancakes and bacon. Marcy would no doubt cringe at her common breakfast, but she hadn’t even asked John what he liked. A bad feeling nagged at

her and wouldn’t ease up. She doubted a dynamite breakfast would tip the scales in her favor. While she flipped pancakes, strong arms circled around her waist. “Hey.” John nuzzled her neck. “I woke up to an empty bed.” “I figured you’d be starving,” she said without turning around. “I’m hungry all right. I would have rather had you first.” When John said that she turned all mushy inside. “Breakfast is ready.” Prudence poured coffee and orange juice for them, avoiding John’s gaze. “Can I help?” Prudence glanced over her shoulder at him. His eyes were sleepy. He had on his jeans and flannel shirt, unbuttoned and untucked. His hair was messy and he looked much more appetizing than her pancakes and bacon. “No. Everything is ready. Just sit down.” John wolfed down his breakfast, while Prudence picked at hers. When he was finished, he patted his flat stomach. “That was a damn good breakfast, Prudence.” Last night he had called her baby. This morning it was back to good old Prudence. “Thanks.” John watched her while he drank his coffee. She had no idea what he was thinking or regretting. “I’ll help you clean up,” he offered. Prudence waved her hand in front of her. “Oh no. I can do it.” It would give her something to do after he left. John reached across the table, grabbed her hand and rubbed his thumb over her

knuckles. “Last night was special, Prudence. You’re a special lady.” The brush off. She snatched her hand away. “Spare me, John. We both know it was a one-stand night. So let’s just leave it at that. You don’t have to hang around and make small talk.” “That’s not what I meant.” He frowned, picked up his mug then setting it back down. “I’m lousy at relationships. Ask my ex.” “Ask your ex-wife, ex-girlfriend?” “Damn it, Prudence, you’re making this hard.” She was making it hard? Prudence jumped up, backing over to the counter. John plowed a hand through his hair. Prudence crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you should go.” John stood, stared hard at her. “If that’s what you want. I’m out of here.” It wasn’t what she wanted, but he’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship. John buttoned his shirt then found his jacket. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me kiss you good-bye.” A lump formed in her throat. She shook her head. “Shit.” On his way to the door he shrugged on his jacket. Prudence didn’t wash the dishes. She smashed them.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Wilder, watch what the hell you’re doing.” John was getting ready to climb down the ladder glanced down at Ray Watson standing two feet from the ladder, a scowl on his face. When he’d tossed down the extra roof shingles, it looked like he had just missed Ray. “Sorry.” “I might have a hard head, but it’s not that hard.” John, cursing under his breath, clambered down the ladder. The stack of excess roof shingles probably weighed fifty pounds or more. “Sorry, man,” he said as stepped onto solid ground. “What’s with you anyway?” Ray narrowed his eyes. “The last couple of days you’ve been a gnarly s.o.b.” John figured that was putting it mildly. Ray was a good guy, easy going. “Yeah, sorry about that, too.” Ray took off his ball cap, patted his nearly bald head like he was checking to see if any hair had grown recently. Frowning, he put his hat back on. “You got woman problems or something?” Yeah. He had a major woman problem. Prudence.

Somehow she had managed to

brand his entire system including his heart, brain, and body with her scent, touch, voice, and eyes. Anything that was Prudence was embedded deep inside of him.

John shook his head. “Got a couple of things on my mind. I’ll be in a better mood tomorrow.” That was a damn lie. He’d be just as miserable tomorrow as he was today. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, buddy.” Ray cuffed him on the shoulder as headed off toward his truck. They were down to nine-hour days since the crew had caught up with the schedule. John wished like hell they were still doing twelve-hour days. It gave him less time to think. One unforgettable night with Prudence and he was miserable. No one had to tell him what a bastard he was for hurting her then walking out on her. His plan had backfired. He figured he could handle one night of dynamite, out of this world sex, then walk away from her. No strings attached. John had walked away, but he’d left a piece of himself in her kitchen that Sunday morning. *** As Prudence counted the money, Marcy flipped the closed sign. “Guess what? It’s significant other’s bowling night,” Marcy said. “How about we do something? Grab a bite to eat, then go to the mall.” Prudence finished counting the twenty-dollar bills before she glanced at Marcy who was practically in her face, leaning over the counter, chin propped on her hands. “I have a headache.” “Come on, Prudence, you can’t lie to your old buddy.” She narrowed her eyes at Marcy. “I feel one coming on then.” “You can’t keep moping. Moping is bad for your health.” She decided moping was now her middle name since John had walked out of her

apartment four days ago. Prudence shrugged, tucking the twenties into the moneybag. “We’ll go for Chinese. Your favorite.” Prudence leveled a murderous glare on Marcy. “I’m sorry. I forgot. John brought over Chinese Saturday night.” It wasn’t just her taste for Chinese that was ruined. She would never be able to regard Chinese food the same again, after having made love between the cartons of chow mein, egg rolls, and fried shrimp. “We’ll go for cheeseburgers. One hundred percent American food, nothing ethnic.” Prudence zipped the moneybag closed. “I’d be lousy company.” “You’ve been lousy company for the last couple of days.” Marcy pushed back from the counter. “Who cares? It might do you some good.” Prudence shook her head. “I’ll take a rain check.” Marcy grabbed her purse and jacket off the end of the counter. “Suit yourself.” Prudence followed Marcy to the door so she could lock up for the night. “Since it’s bowling night, I’m going to take full advantage of it.” Marcy slipped on her jacket. “I’m getting a good old fashioned chic flick to watch tonight.” Prudence smiled. “Go for it.” Marcy hugged her. “If you need anything, call.” “Thanks.” Prudence locked the door watching Marcy sashay down the sidewalk, swinging her purse at her side. She didn’t seem to have the bounce back ability that Marcy did. Prudence picked up the moneybag, and trudged up the stairs to her lonely apartment. She considered getting a cat.

She needed something to keep her company, since she was obviously doomed to

spinsterhood. Prudence didn’t know if a woman could be certified a spinster if she wasn’t a virgin. At nine o’clock Prudence decided to call it a night. She dropped the mystery novel she’d been reading on the end table next to the couch. As she headed for the bathroom the downstairs buzzer beeped. Frowning, Prudence circled around wondering who it could be at this time of night. She hurried over to the window that faced the street and saw a man pacing back and forth in front of the shop’s door. John. She waged war with the window until she finally got it open then yelled to John’s back. “What the hell are you doing here?” He wheeled around. “Can I come up?” “Why do you want to come up to my apartment?” “To talk.” “Talk about what?” “Come on, Prudence.” John glanced over his shoulder at a young couple strolling past him. “Can we have this conversation in private?” John wanted to talk. Heart pounding, pulse racing, stomach doing acrobatic stunts, Prudence said. “I’ll be down in a minute.” She glanced down at her clothes. She wore her usual lounging-around outfit, navy blue sweats and a pale pink tee shirt. She wasn’t about to get all gussied up for him just because he stopped by at bedtime. Don’t think about bed, she warned herself. Prudence grabbed a light blue zip up hoody draped over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, shrugging into it on her way out of her apartment.

At the shop door, she had to take three deep breaths, fearing she might hyperventilate. With trembling hands she unlocked the door. John stood there, hands stuffed into the front pockets of his faded jeans. He didn’t have on a jacket, just a red and black flannel shirt. The man could be a flannel shirt model, she decided. “Hi Prudence.” John looked beat, probably from all the hours he was working at the subdivision. “Hi.” “Are you going to let me in?” Prudence straightened her shoulders, stiffened her spine, wishing she had an antacid to kill the butterflies in her tummy. “I suppose.” She stepped back so John could come inside. She hadn’t bothered turning on extra lights in the shop. There were security lights placed throughout the store to discourage burglars. Prudence shut the door, took another deep breath before she spun around to face him. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s up?” She realized too late, that was an inappropriate way to phrase the question. John shrugged. “I just wanted to talk to you.” Prudence leaned back against the door for support. “Then talk.” “Do you think maybe we could go up to your apartment and sit down?” John glanced around. “Maybe have some lights on.” Her apartment was the last place she wanted John. “On one condition.” “What’s that?” “You keep your hands to yourself.”

“Jesus, Prudence,” John paused. “If that’s what you want, it’s a deal.” It wasn’t what she wanted, but she had to protect her heart. “Let’s go,” she said in a brisk, no nonsense voice. They walked up the stairs with a tension filled silence hovering over the two of them. Prudence angled over to the couch, parked herself at one end, arms still crossed over her chest. John sat down in the middle, way too close to her for comfort. He glanced over at her. “How have you been doing?” “Never better. And yourself?” John shifted his position so he could face her and laid his arm on the back of the couch. His expression was guarded. “Can’t we be friends?” The man had the nerve to ask if they could be friends after their one night together. Prudence shook her head. “Sorry. No can do.” “Prudence.” He slid his hand down the back of the couch, twining a lock of her hair around his fingers. Delicious shivers skimmed through her body. “You promised hands off.” “Sorry. I can’t help myself.” Prudence was ready to say hands off, but his expression and eyes stopped her. His blue eyes brimmed with affection, while his brows were furrowed together in a frown. Prudence reached for him, at the same time his arms circled around her pulling her tight against him. “Damn, Prudence, I came to talk.” His lips came down hard on hers. Prudence pushed her tongue inside John’s mouth, hearing him groan. The hell with

talking, she decided, as she unwound his arm from her and placed it on her breast. John groaned into her mouth again as he teased her nipple through her hoody and tee shirt. John unzipped her hoody basically tearing it off her body. He raised her tee shirt, lowered his head to her breast, teasing her nipple with his lips. Prudence yanked her tee shirt over her head, tossed it. John pushed her back on the couch settling between her legs. Fondling her breasts, he kissed her deep and long. Prudence fought with the buttons on his shirt until the last one was undone. Then she went for the zipper on his jeans. John leaned back on his knees, peeled her sweats and panties off in one long sweep and then scrambled off the couch. She had never seen a man undress so fast. She watched him while the fever built inside of her, between her legs. When he stood naked above her, his erection huge, Prudence held up her arms to him. Holding her gaze, John lowered himself onto her, then with one quick thrust he was inside of her, forcing a sharp moan to escape her. John framed her face with his hands. In a husky, rough voice, he said. “Look at me Prudence. I want you to look at me.” Prudence opened her eyes and looked into his eyes, which captivated her. They were filled with lust and desire. She kept looking at him as he plunged himself harder into her. He slowly lowered his head, kissing her hard, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Prudence figured she might stop breathing but she didn’t care. What a way to go, with John on top of her, inside of her, driving both of them toward the ultimate climaxes. He raised his head, watching her, begging her to come with his eyes. She dragged his head down for another kiss. No sooner had his lips met hers, she came, moaning into his

mouth, gyrating beneath him. His mouth slid to her cheek, as he ground out a curse word when he came, too. *** John buried his head against Prudence’s hot, slick neck and waited for his breathing to settle down. He listened to her breathing return to normal. He cussed himself for doing this. He’d come over to her place to explain how he felt. Less than five minutes in her apartment and they were going at each other. “John,” she whispered. He had to face her, had to look into her eyes. He slowly raised his head. “You said you wanted to talk.” Jaw tight, he held her gaze. Those sweet, green eyes of hers, made him feel like a total bastard.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wanted to talk to you.” He noticed the

flicker of hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I wanted you so damn bad.” He cleared his throat. “But that’s no excuse.” “You want to fuck me, but you don’t want a relationship with me.” Prudence’s voice quivered. “Why can’t you just come out and say that?” “Don’t put it like that, Prudence. Please.” Prudence shoved at his chest with her hands. “Why shouldn’t I? That’s what you want.” John grabbed her hands. “I don’t want to just fuck you.” “Yes you do. You just did.” “No.” John shook his head. “ I made love to you.” He hoped like hell Prudence knew that.

“What damn difference does it make? It all comes out the same in the wash.” She paused, biting her lip. “Let me up.” “Prudence.” He pushed back off of her, while she scooted out from under him. John watched her gather up her clothes. Naked, with her clothes clutched to her chest, she walked toward the hallway and disappeared. John stood, grabbed his clothes off the floor and dressed. He sat back down on the couch, waited for Prudence to come back, but she didn’t. After several minutes passed, he jumped up heading to her bedroom. He rattled the doorknob. “Shit. Unlock the door, Prudence.” “Go away.” “Prudence.” He leaned his forehead against the door. “Talk to me. Unlock your door.” “I don’t want to talk to you. Go away. Leave me alone.” “No. Talk to me.” John heard her moving around in her room. He hoped like hell she didn’t own a gun or pepper spray that she planned to use on him. Not that he would blame her. He deserved anything she gave him. Prudence swung the door open. Her hair was tangled and her face flushed. John knew damn well she’d been crying, which twisted his guts into a tight knot. “Say what you have to say.” John leaned his arm on the doorframe, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry Prudence. I never meant to hurt you. It was the last thing I wanted to do.” She didn’t answer him, just stared at him with red, swollen eyes.

“I’m lousy at relationships.” “But you’re more than willing to have one night stands,” she paused. “Two night stands. Maybe you’re planning on coming back for thirds.” “I won’t come around again Prudence. This is the last time you’ll see me.” He watched her bottom lip tremble. He couldn’t stand seeing the pain reflected in her eyes because he was the son of a bitch that had put it there. John yearned to reach for her, gather her in his arms and hold her tight. “You’re one of hell of a special lady. You remember that. Don’t let anybody tell you different. Good-bye Prudence.”

CHAPTER SIX

“I can’t stand it a minute longer.” Marcy stood in the open doorway of Prudence’s office. Prudence stopped studying the inventory of last month’s books on her computer. “Can’t stand what a minute longer?” “You.” Marcy pointed at her. “You’re like an abandoned puppy.” “Oh please, give me a break.” Prudence didn’t want to talk about John. “John is history.” Marcy walked into the office, leaned her hip on Prudence’s desk. “We knew it was a gamble. The second date thing.” Prudence wished she had gambled the deed to her store instead of her heart. “I saw him again.” Marcy’s eyes bugged out so far, Prudence was afraid they might just pop out of the sockets. “When? You never said a word. You had another date with him and didn’t tell me.” Marcy’s face radiated outrage that Prudence had left her out of the loop. “Why are you holding out on me? And when did you see him again?” Prudence flopped back in her chair. “A week ago.” Marcy held her fingers up and started counting. “Hey, wait a minute. Wasn’t that the

night I asked you to grab a bite to eat and go shopping?” Prudence nodded, wishing she had taken up Marcy on her offer.

There was a

possibility she would have been gone when John dropped by to supposedly talk. “It must have been a spur of the moment date.” “It wasn’t a date.” Prudence sighed, fighting to ignore the pain lodged inside her chest. “It was a mindless sex encounter.” “Back up. Mindless sex encounter?” Before she answered, Prudence reached behind her, undid her hair shaking it out. She was tired of the entire bun thing. Maybe if she wore her hair down all the time, it would attract another lulu into her life. Concern spread across Marcy’s face. “Are you okay, Prudence? You just took your hair down in the middle of the day. At work, at the bookstore. Are you feverish?” Prudence tossed the rubber band on her desk, held onto the clip. “I am not feverish.” Marcy sat down in the chair across the desk from her. “Prudence, we’re friends. I just don’t work for you. I’m your confidante.” Marcy was right. She had bottled up every single emotion concerning John. She was Mt. St. Helens ready to erupt. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to tell you I had once again been a silly, lovesick fool.” “Remember Robert from two years ago, the bank VP. I was comatose for months after him.” “Only because he failed to mention he was married.” “After I fell head over freaking heels for him. Now tell me.” Prudence gathered her thoughts together. “He came over that night without calling.

Just showed up here. John said he wanted to talk. But he wanted to come up to my apartment.” That had been her first fatal mistake that night, letting him into her apartment. “I said okay, but I made him promise hands off.” Prudence toyed with her hair clip for a few moments. “We sat down on the couch and the next thing I know we’re having sex.” “Did he initiate it?” “Not exactly,” Prudence hedged. “It was sort of mutual.” “Go on.” “Afterwards I reminded John that he wanted to talk. Fast forward to he just wanted to bed me, without the strings.” “Without the strings are not a bad thing, if both people are into it. I know you’re not.” Prudence shook her head, feeling the telltale lump crawling up the back of her throat. “No I’m not. It’s just not my style.” She paused. “I suppose I could do it with some guy I just had the hots for.” “You never even told me if you had over the top sex that first time. You had to have gotten something out of the...” Marcy paused. “You mean the stupidest fling of the decade?” Oh, yeah, she had gotten something out of that night. A long slice threw her heart with a sharp blade. John had brought the fire to life inside of her making her aware that she was indeed a passionate woman. So she supposed she did get something. Prudence leaned back in her chair. “We had wild, abandoned sex. Sex like I’ve never had before and never will again. Satisfied?” “Don’t say that Prudence. If it happened once, it will happen again with another guy. Lord knows there’s hundreds of them out there with the goods and the know how to satisfy us

ladies.” She wanted John’s goods and know-how. Not just any guy would do. “Sorry. That was a tacky thing to say considering how you feel about John.” Prudence stared down at the clip in her hands. “Maybe I’ll cut my hair short. Really short.” “Stop it, Prudence.” Marcy made a face at her. “You wouldn’t look good with short hair. Besides you said John loved your hair.” “Note the words past tense.” “Call him.” “What?” Prudence stared at Marcy in disbelief. “If it was that good for you, then it was for him, too.” Marcy leaned back in her chair, but not before she grabbed a pencil off the desk to tap against her lips. “I think there’s more to this than meets the eye.” “John said he was lousy at relationships.” “Oh I get it. He’s a commitment phobic. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Does he? A woman can sense those kinds of things.” That night when they had went at it on her couch she had seen something in his eyes. The sex had been different. John even admitted he’d made love to her. Prudence shrugged. “I suppose there’s a possibility.” “We do live in the twenty-first century. If a woman wants a man, she should go after him. Guys get turned down and keep trying.” “Can you really see me chasing after him?” She wasn’t brazen or aggressive enough to call John. Although she had been brazen and aggressive in the love making department

with him. “I’m not talking about stalking here. Go see him. Face to face is always better. Then they’re forced into looking you in the eye.” Prudence started to waver. “I don’t even know where he lives.” “You know where he works, don’t you?” “He’s building houses in the new Maple Leaf Subdivision.” Marcy pointed the pencil at her. “There you go.” “Forget it Marcy. I’m not doing it.” “Instead of moping, you should be pissed off. Why should we sit back and take it?” Prudence frowned. “I might concede you do have a point.” “Damn right, I have a point. At least go out there and give him a good tonguelashing. Venting will make you feel better.” After Marcy left for lunch, Prudence went out to the shop, plopping down on the chair behind the counter. Not a customer in sight. The only thing to occupy her mind was John. Why wasn’t she consumed with anger? She figured it was because of the gigantic ache inside her heart. Prudence snagged the latest book catalogue off the counter, thumbing through it, battling with her emotions. She doubted she possessed the baseballs to confront John. Prudence cursed her silly, impractical heart. Was it possible the two of them could work things out? Prudence shook her head, doubts buzzing through her head like hummingbirds at a feeder.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Two days later, crammed full of righteous indignation, Prudence cruised through the new subdivision being built on the edge of the city. Her heart reminded her of a jackhammer, grinding up concrete. Her clammy palms were wrapped around the steering wheel. She was positive she was about to have the mother of all hot flashes. Like flipping a pancake over a hot griddle, she had tossed her disappointment and aching heart upside down into a good, healthy dose of anger. Why should John get away scot-free? She liked him, lusted for him, and felt empty without him. If she felt like being totally honest with herself, which she didn’t at the moment, she supposed there was a slim possibility she was in love with John. Prudence wondered who she was kidding. The first three houses she passed were finished, at least on the outside. The other houses were in various stages of completion. She didn’t see John’s truck and had no idea where to find him. She noticed two men unloading lumber from a flatbed truck up the street. Prudence rolled to a stop next to them lowering her window. “Excuse me.” The two men paused, each holding an end of a stack of two by fours. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

“Sure can.” A middle-aged guy grinned at her. “I’m looking for John Wilder.” “I was hoping you were looking for me,” the middle-aged guy said. Prudence smiled and turned on the charm. “Maybe next time.” The other guy said. “He’s up on the roof three houses down on the left.” “Thank you, gentlemen, you’ve been very helpful.” Prudence drove slowly down the street, fighting a mighty battle to keep her righteous indignation at a high level. When she spotted John’s truck parked next to the curb, panic crashed through her like a tidal wave. Prudence stopped behind his truck, shutting off the ignition. She glanced in the rearview mirror fluffing her hair. She had purposely worn it down since John loved it that way. Prudence climbed out of her car walking toward the house. There were three men on the roof, all kneeling, laying roofing. “Hey!” she yelled. “You no-good rat!” Three heads swung in her direction. John was in the middle. His mouth dropped open in shock. “You talking to me, sweetheart?” A twenty-something blonde grinned down at her. “Because I don’t remember you, but if I was a rat, I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” The other man, a big burly guy in his early fifties, pulled off his ball cap, squinting down at her. “Are you the reason I’m about ready to fire this guy?” He pointed a thumb in John’s direction. Oh dear, she did want to vent, but she didn’t want John to lose his job. “Excuse me?” “His work stinks. Has for the past week.” The burly guy dropped his hat back on his

head. “Promise you’ll marry him, have his baby. What ever it takes to get his work back up to par.” She watched John muscle the twenty-something blonde aside, then she headed for the ladder leaning against the house. Prudence crossed her arms over her chest tapping her foot on the sidewalk as John climbed down the ladder then started heading toward her. He had on a black ball cap, white tee shirt, with his flannel shirt unbuttoned. A tool belt hung jauntily across his hips. He strode toward her, anger glinting in his eyes, his jaw rigid. Prudence fought back the urge to turn tail and run. “What the hell is going on, Prudence?” “I just came out here to tell you I think you’re a no-good rat. The next morning you were all ready to split after our second date.

Of course, not before you ate my delicious

breakfast.” She paused noticing how John’s jaw worked itself back and forth. “And then you just show up on my doorstep one night taking advantage of me.” That was a bit of a stretch and she knew it. “I didn’t take advantage of you that last night. You were all over me too.” “Hah!” “You know damn well that’s true, Prudence.” John’s eyes blazed with anger. “I might concede to that.” She poked her finger in the air. “But,” she paused for emphasis. “I’m not the one that always wants to split afterwards. True we’re always at my apartment. Oh, never mind about that.” John stepped closer to her. “You kicked me out both times, Prudence.” “I did not.” Well....maybe she had asked him to leave, only because of the big crack in her heart.

Prudence didn’t have an answer for that one. “You told me to get out as soon as I said I was lousy at relationships.” “That was your way of saying it was a one-night stand. But then you came back for a second night stand under the guise of wanting to talk.” John blew out a frustrated breath. “That was my plan, Prudence. I swear to God. But then I saw you, got close to you. Hell, that’s why I’m keeping my distance. I can’t be around you without wanting you.” Prudence’s heart did a backward flip. She struggled to digest what John had just said. She fisted her hand, thumped his chest. “You know something, John, you’re really thick headed.” His jaw dropped. “Have you been talking to my ex-wife? Because those are almost her exact words. Oh yeah. I’m insensitive, too.” “I don’t even know your ex-wife. I wasn’t going to say insensitive, but now that you mention it…” “You’re too special. I’m not going to hurt you.” “For your information you already have hurt me. So take that to the bank and deposit it.” John yanked off his cap, then settled it back on his head. “I’m sorry, Prudence. I never wanted to hurt you.” She had expected and needed a big knockdown. drag-out fight. She had planned on driving off with squealing tires, enough to lay rubber. The anger she had dredged up over the past few days after Marcy’s lecture had made her feel better. If she got her emotions out of her system, then she figured she could move on.

They stared at each other for a long time. Prudence struggled to swallow the lump in the back of her throat. “I don’t think you’re insensitive.” Damn. She was going to cry. She was supposed to be cursing, yelling, and punching him in the nose. “I do agree you’re thickheaded.” John scowled, glanced away from her for a moment. “I really like you, John,” she whispered. “Damn, Prudence.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “You’re making this hard for me again.” “You don’t think it’s hard for me?” “I figured you’d find another guy and fast. You’re sexy, attractive, independent.” “I’ve turned down dozens of dates the past few weeks.” The only thing she had turned down was her bed every night. “Have you two worked it out yet?” A male voice boomed from the roof. John wheeled around while Prudence stared at the big, burly guy.

She shook her

head. “Here’s the deal, Wilder. You’ve got the rest of the day off to work it out with your lady. If it’s not worked out by tomorrow morning, then don’t bother coming to work because you’re too damn dangerous up on these roofs.” “Would he really fire you?” John shrugged. “He’s been threatening me everyday for the past week.” “If you can’t work it out with wild boy here,” the twenty-something blonde grinned down at Prudence. “I’ll show you a good time. It’s only ‘cause I’m not ready to tie the knot yet.”

John gave him the one finger salute. Prudence watched the blonde laugh. John circled back around to face her with a scowl on his face. Prudence believed John was a tad jealous. “Okay back to business.” “Why don’t we go somewhere so we can get away from these goons.” Prudence shook her head. “No. We finish it now.” John cursed. The two of them squared off. Prudence planted her hands on her hips. John fisted his hands at his sides. “You either want a relationship with me or you don’t.” Had she actually issued an ultimatum to John? My, she had certainly got brazen lately. Prudence smiled, feeling damn proud of herself. John narrowed his eyes. “Why are you smiling?” “Let’s see now...” She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe because I feel like it.” Confusion spread across John’s face. “Well...what’s it going to be?” John’s eyes narrowed to slits, the blue barely visible. He reached up rubbing the back of his neck. She teetered on the verge of a major hot flash if John didn’t say something. Anything. John studied her for a several seconds. “You’re really willing to take a chance with a thickheaded guy?” Prudence’s eyes widened. At last, a crack in the John Wilder wall of resistance. “Yes.” “I’m not good at remembering birthdays, anniversaries. I’m a last minute shopper.”

John paused. “I leave my dirty socks laying around.” Prudence waved her hand in front of her. “Not to worry.” Dirty socks were not a problem for her. His lips twitched up at the corners. “You might think differently in a couple of months or a couple of years.” Prudence shook her head. Her throat was too clogged with emotions to speak. John leaned close to her. “I miss you like crazy,” he whispered. “I miss you, too.” Tears gathered in her eyes. John grabbed her, holding her tight. “So you’re really willing to take a chance on an insensitive, thickheaded guy?” Prudence nodded, not trusting herself to speak without blubbering. John kissed her. His kiss was soft, gentle, filled with promise. “I can pick up Chinese for tonight.” His grin was wicked, his blue eyes filled with lust. “That’s all fine and dandy. But you can clean up the mess in the morning.” John laughed hugging her tighter. Prudence closed her eyes knowing that second dates could be done after all. “Kiss me, Prudence.” As soon as she reached up to kiss him, she heard whistles, catcalls, and loud clapping coming from the rooftop. Still kissing John, Prudence raised her hand giving the thumbs up sign to the guys on the roof.

The End

Author’s Bio

Sage Burnett pens erotic contemporary and erotic contemporary suspense. She is multi-published in the e-book world. Sage started out writing sensual love scenes, but over the past year has notched up the heat in her books. Writing spicier and realistic love scenes is so much more challenging for her. She lives at the foot of the majestic Rocky Mountains in northwestern Montana, with a rowdy girl black lab, and two temperamental girl cats.