LITMIR.BIZ

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in exaggerated tolerance. “I’m almost forty. I’ve had two kids. I’m hardly a sex symbol.”

      “Wrong. You’re incredibly sexy. Warm, friendly . . . and sweet enough to eat.”

      He tacked that last on just to prod her, and sure enough, she caught her breath—then got exactly the visual he wanted. Watching her, seeing what she saw, made him feel it almost as if he had her spread out on his bed, completely naked, twisting with pleasure while he showed her his favorite way to make a woman come.

      “Damn.” He rubbed his face, then gulped down half his coke. He had to stop tormenting himself.

      “Stan?” His name emerged as a thread of sound, filled with longing.

      Nodding, jaw tight, Stan said, “You see?” He struggled to keep the harshness, the savage need, from his tone. “The moon affects us all, Jenna, did you know that? It’s called the Lunar Effect and can be responsible for everything from mental disorders to heightened awareness.”

      She didn’t dispute him, but then, her mind was still on other, more carnal matters, making him nuts.

      Stan took her hand again. “Listen to me, Jenna. Studies have proven that more crimes, more births, more conceptions, more animal bites, and more unintentional poisonings all occur during a full moon. The earth and sun and moon are all lined up, causing higher tides, and you have to believe if the moon can do that, it can damn sure work on our glands, our organs, and our moods.”

      She blinked hard. “So . . . you’re interested in me because of the moon?”

      “No way.” He’d been hooked from the first day he saw her, he just hadn’t realized that the feeling was mutual. “Didn’t you hear what I said about you being sexy? I’ve wanted you since day one. Make no mistakes about that. And the more I get to know you, the more I want you. But maybe it’s the moon that’s bringing us together, that’s helping us to admit it.”

      Stan waited, but she didn’t deny wanting him, and something strangely close to anxiety uncoiled and relaxed in his chest.

      Yet her lack of a denial wasn’t enough. He squeezed her fingers. “Tell me you want me, Jenna,” he commanded. “Say it.”

      Marylou chose that inauspicious moment to come bebopping back to the table. “You guys ready for your pie?” She eyed Jenna’s uneaten food and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like the chicken salad?”

      “Oh, uh . . .” Flushed, Jenna picked up her croissant. “It’s wonderful, I’ve just . . .”

      Swallowing his curse, Stan said, “Give us ten more minutes, Marylou, then bring two slices of pie and two coffees.”

      Jenna protested. “I’ll need to get back to the store soon.”

      “I locked up.” Stan pulled her keys from his pocket and slid them across the table. “The reporter’s long gone. The bookstore is safe.” He pressed his feet farther under the booth, letting his calves brush hers. “Stay for pie.”

      Marylou giggled. “Yeah, Jenna. Live a little. Stay for pie.”

      Giggling got on Stan’s nerves, but the girl was a good sort and a hard worker, so Stan winked at her and said, “Maybe seeing it will convince her.”

      “Right.” Again, Marylou hurried off.

      Glancing at her watch, Jenna said, “I suppose I can stay a little longer. I haven’t even been gone a half hour.”

      Stan just waited.

      With slender fingers, Jenna smoothed her hair, glanced at him and away, and finally drew a deep breath. He could feel her working up her nerve, and it was both endearing and a gigantic turn-on.

      “Yes, I want you.” Before Stan could recover from that awesome declaration, she added with earnest sincerity and an appalling lack of deception, “I have since the first day I met you.”

      “You never let on.”

      “I didn’t think there was any reason to.” In explanation, she said, “If you think I’m attractive . . . well, it’s nothing compared to what I think about you. It’s probably safe to say you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Of course, every woman in town thinks so, so I’m sure you’re used to hearing that.”

      “No,” Stan growled, floored with how her announcement affected him. “I’m damn well not used to it at all. But it wouldn’t matter anyway, because you’re not every other woman in town. You’re special—to me, and to everyone who meets you.”

      Shrugging that off, she sipped at her drink and nibbled on her sandwich. Again Stan waited, sensing her efforts to sort things out, to decipher both his feelings and her own. Picking up a pickle slice, she whispered, “Are we going to have an affair, Stan?”

      For some reason, he didn’t like her wording. An affair indicated a noncommittal relationship, and damn it, Jenna was the type of woman a man settled down with. She was every man’s fantasy, proper on the outside, torrid on the inside. He wanted to know both sides better.

      “I’m going to take you and your son out on the boat tonight. If Ryan wants, he can do some tubing. Or just swim in the cove. We’ll talk. Maybe grab dinner somewhere. And later, when Ryan gets ready for bed, I’m going to kiss you again—probably do more than kiss you.”

      Alarm skittered through her. “Oh, but—”

      “Jenna,” he said, cutting off her objection, “I understand your privacy is limited. Your kids are a big part of your life, and that’s how it should be. Know that I’d never make things awkward with them.”

      Jenna watched him with longing on her face as well as in her heart. She craved the special bond between a man and a woman, but her kids came first, and Stan appreciated that. Even if he hadn’t read it in her head, he’d have said and done the same things. He was sure of it.

      How hard would it be for a woman with children to develop any sort of intimacy with a man? Was that why she’d never dated, because it was just too complicated? Well, he wasn’t a bastard who’d ever make her choose or pressure her into an uncomfortable situation.

      “Later,” Stan added, wanting her to have no misunderstandings on his intentions, “when we can find some private time so you can relax and enjoy every single second, I intend to make love to you.”

      The pickle slice slipped from her lax fingers and landed half on the plate, half on the tabletop.

      “You’ll like what I do to you, Jenna. I’ll make sure of it.”

      Her head moved in a dazed nod of acknowledgment. “I believe you.” But the images in her head weren’t of him touching her. Just the opposite.

      Her sexual imagination played for him like a porn video, and he was the recipient of every hot, wet kiss, every lick and gentle suck and firm stroke. Jesus, the woman had a great knack for covering the details.

      On the ragged edge, glad the booth hid his arousal, Stan leaned forward again. “I’m not a kid, Jenna, after a quick tumble and instant gratification. Should I tell you what I want?”

      The word, “Yes,” floated out on a breath from between her parted lips.

      “I want a woman who isn’t shy in the sack. A woman who’ll let me make her feel good without hiding under the sheets or turning out the lights.” And then, pushing her, he said, “I want a woman who wants me the same way. Who enjoys getting naked and sweaty, fucking, sucking, with no taboos as long as we both enjoy it.”

      Oh, yeah, Jenna was that woman. Just hearing him say it had her primed and ready and squirming in her seat.

      “I want a woman,” Stan added, knowing how his words would hit her, “who insists on a screaming orgasm every time.”

      Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw Marylou approaching. The girl’s timing couldn’t be worse, what with Jenna

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