He grinned. "Maybe so, but you need a little work." Dan held her in a hug that warmed her heart. "I could eat," he admitted.

"Give me a few minutes to scramble some eggs."

"I'll pour the tea."

Sitting across the bistro-sized table from Dan, she couldn't help but wonder how her life had changed so drastically, from semi-spinster to lover. Could she have stopped the attraction once it started-should she have thought to?

"A penny for your thoughts."

"I was thinking about things."

He grumbled, bit into a slice of buttered toast, chewed, and swallowed. "Which things?"

"The you and me kind."

"Ah," he said, lifting a forkful of eggs to his lips.

She watched while he chewed. "Do you do everything with such gusto?"

He set his fork down. "Is it a problem?"

She reached out to take hold of his hand. "Not from where I'm sitting. I just wondered."

"Is this where I'm supposed to tell you about my past lovers?" He winced when he asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. And for the record, I'm not going to either."

He shrugged. "OK."

Meg stared at him until he lifted his head and looked at her... really looked at her. When she had his undivided attention, she smiled and agreed, "OK."

He smiled and she couldn't help but smile with him. "I didn't intend to invite you up tonight for more than a cup of tea."

"Then we'd better start drinking in case anyone asks what we were doing together tonight."

She laughed and nearly spilled her cup. "Do you think anyone suspects that we're not just drinking tea?"

"Besides anyone in town with half a brain?"

"That many?" she asked, setting her cup down. "Was I that obvious?"

"No," he told her. "I was."

"Not to me; I thought you were hung up on somebody else."

He shook his head at her. "You'd be wrong about that."

"Good thing," she told him, "because I'm definitely the jealous type."

He watched her as he lifted his cup to his lips and sipped. "I wouldn't have thought that about you."

She shrugged. "I don't have to have sex with someone to be jealous of the attention he's paying someone other than me."

"That's so convoluted, I'm not even going to try to figure out what you meant by that."

"Let me explain," she began.

He silenced her with the tips of his fingers pressed to her lips. "I need to talk about something serious, Meg."

She folded her hands in front of her. "The bridge?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's going to keep me up nights if I don't."

"So tell me all about it, and then I'll keep you up for the rest of the night." She knew he needed to purge his mind; he'd already purged the pent-up adrenaline from his system. She hoped now that the edge was off he'd still want to be with her. She wasn't sure her heart could take the fall if he didn't.

"But I don't have any more protection with me-"

The imp in her asked, "How about at your house?"

Their gazes locked and he nodded. "How fast can you get dressed?"

She laughed. "Faster than you."

He stood up and looked down at his jeans. "I'm half dressed already."

She laughed harder. "I'm dressed all the way."

"Are you wearing any underwear?"

She threw her arms around his neck and whispered, "A gentleman would never ask such a question."

His grin was positively wicked as he pulled her into his arms and slid his hands to the curve of her backside. "Who said I was a gentleman?"

She melted against him and sighed. "I hear being a gentleman is highly overrated."

He slipped his hands higher on her back and then swept around to cup her breasts, teasing her nipples with the flick of his fingers. "I prefer being a man."

She tilted her head back, parted her lips, and sighed. "Works for me."

The bulge behind his zipper brought her back to reality and the fact that they were still in her kitchen without condoms. "Right," she said, pushing out of his arms. "I'll put on underwear if you put on a shirt."

"But you're wearing my shirt." He reached to undo the buttons. When he had them open he lifted his gaze to hers. "God, you're beautiful." He pressed his lips to her heart and set her away from him. "No more until we get back to my house."

She nodded, slipped out of his shirt, and ran down the hallway to her bedroom, reaching for her discarded clothes. They were both dressed in record time and didn't speak the whole ride over to his house, whether by silent agreement or because neither one wanted to break the magic spell that had descended upon them when he'd kissed her under the dark night sky. They were in his bedroom when he told her, "I've never felt this way before, Meg." Her eyes met his and he nodded as if to enforce what he'd just said. "It scares the crap out of me."

She was relieved that he was the first to admit to the feelings similar to the ones running amok inside of her. But she didn't let him flounder for long before telling him, "Then that makes two of us."

He had a wicked gleam in his eyes when he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, asking, "How about a power nap and then three more rounds?"

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and tried to pretend she was thinking about it. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her on the bed. She pulled her shirt off and was smiling when he unbuttoned his jeans and stepped out of them. He knelt on the bed, unfastened her jeans, slipped his hands beneath her bottom, and tugged her pants off.

"Maybe one more bout of lovemaking-then a power nap."

Her laughter died as his lips unerringly found her breast and suckled until she agreed with him.

"Morning, Meg." The deep rumbling voice came from behind her, and for one moment, her brain couldn't process the fact that there was a deep voice in her bed. The breath she drew in froze in her lungs while her vision grayed due to lack of air. Then warm, firm lips kissed her shoulder and powerful arms wrapped around her, pulling her back against him.

"Dan." His name came out as a sigh. Memories of last night and the lovemaking they'd indulged in filled her. She'd never spent the night doing such decadent things-ever. Before she got lost thinking how sad that was, she realized it would be a better use of her time rejoicing in the fact that she now had someone special in her life.

He kissed the top of her head and tightened his hold on her, as if he wasn't going to ever let her go. She liked that.

"I hope you don't think I'm being naive," she said.

His breathing was slow and rhythmic; his heartbeat strong and sure, giving her the courage to tell him, "I thought I knew what making love and being in love was all about until last night."

"I don't want to rush into anything, especially when everything inside of me is screaming that what we have between us will only get better," he said, "but I wasn't kidding last night-what I'm feeling for you scares the crap out of me."

There was a tiny corner of Meg's heart that ached, the corner she'd exposed after a decade or more of keeping it to herself. "I understand."

"How can you when I don't understand myself?"

She shifted and slipped out his arms and his bed. "So," she said, looking for her clothes, "I guess I should leave."

He was out of bed and had her in his arms before she could process the fact that he'd moved. "No. Don't leave. Let me make you breakfast and we can talk."

Her heart was bruised by his comment about being scared of his feelings for her. What she felt for Dan was so new and so huge that it threatened to consume her. She ached for what might not be and strove to hide what she was feeling. She agreed. "Can I use your shower while you cook?"

He tilted her chin up and pressed his mouth to hers. "If I didn't have to be at school early, I'd join you."

She smiled. This was the Dan she'd come to know last night, the man with the broad hands and giving heart. "I'll take a quick one."

Standing beneath the hot spray, she couldn't believe she'd spent the better part of last night making love to Dan. That wasn't like her; she didn't jump in and out of bed with a man just because she was attracted to him. OK, she reasoned, she'd sped way past attraction when she'd fallen against him and looked up into his eyes.

She turned the spigot to just shy of scalding and let the hot water ease some of the ache in her lower back. She turned her face to the water, unable to believe all the positions they'd tried out. Lord she ached in places she hadn't known she had. She grinned; the aches were sweet because they reminded her of the places they'd kissed, they'd touched, and they'd loved. She was a babe in the woods compared to the knowledge and technique Dan shared with her last night.

"So you spent the most amazing night of your life in bed with the hottest man on the face of the Earth," she said as she toweled dry. "You've got a schedule of repairs today that will keep you busy until five o'clock and he has a full day of classes to teach and a team to coach." Time to get back to reality.

Getting dressed she wondered when they'd have a chance to spend more time together. She was surprised that the yearning to learn more about the man and what was in his heart was equal to the need to make love with him again.

"I'm in trouble."

Chapter 6.

Dan glanced up at the clock. He had just enough time to make their first breakfast together special-Nantucket French toast special. He gathered the ingredients and had the thick slices of Italian bread drying in the toaster oven while he whipped up the egg and heavy cream mixture, adding his secret ingredient-a splash of pure vanilla. He planned to knock her socks off with his favorite breakfast.

The coffee was brewed and he was pouring a cup when Meg walked into the kitchen. She looked so tiny and fragile in the pale morning light. He couldn't believe the positions he had convinced her to try, and the way she'd happily accommodated him, bending and stretching while he sampled, savored, and had taken all that she had offered, hoping what he gave in return would convince her that she was special.

Last night was special.

"Smells good." She smiled and his brain simply shut down as parts of him stood at attention, ready, willing, and able to please again.

Oblivious to his condition, she walked over to the coffee pot. "I'd give my right arm for a cup of hot coffee."

He grinned. "You're in luck this morning. I thought you might want hot tea, but I made a big pot of coffee-just in case."

"I thought tea was in order last night, in case you'd had too many beers while braving the onslaught of Apple Grove's townsfolk and their best intentions."

He really needed to talk to someone about yesterday and had hoped to have that conversation last night. "Meg. About last night..."

She had been about to take a drink from her cup but immediately set it down on the counter. "Which part of last night?"

He turned off the burner, divided the French toast between two plates, and carried it over to the table. "A couple of things happened that normally would not have."

Dan watched her face to gauge her reaction and didn't like seeing the closed expression settle on her pixie face. "Before you go jumping to conclusions, I wouldn't change any of it," he told her. "But I might need to take a step back until I get my head around what's filling my heart this morning."

Meg's cup still sat on the counter and she hadn't touched her breakfast. After last night, he'd been convinced that it had been awhile since she'd been involved in a relationship; her words and explosive reactions only added to that conviction. How did she feel about Van Orden? Was she telling the truth when she said she didn't share? It would be wrong to jump into bed with Meg again not knowing where they were going. He liked her-craved the fiery passion she shared with him-and wanted more, but couldn't get past the fact that he'd followed his dick and not his head, jumping into bed last night. He'd made that mistake with his ex and that had been a disaster of epic proportions. What he felt for Meg already eclipsed what he'd felt for his ex.

A tiny piece of his battered heart called out that it had been more than his dick that kept him in bed with Meg long after the initial adrenaline had worn itself out. He'd been accused of being hardheaded more than once growing up, but he had to make sure this wasn't just sex-for him and for Meg.

A woman like Meg deserved far more than just a romp in tangled, sweaty sheets. She deserved something he didn't know if he was capable of giving to her-the love he once had in his heart.

"I think the coffee hit my empty stomach too hard," she said, pushing back from the table. "Breakfast looks great," she rasped, "but I've got to get going or I'll be late."

"Damn it, Meg!" His chair hit the floor as he shot to his feet. "Wait! You don't understand..."

Her face was drawn and her eyes pale blue-every ounce of the vibrant woman he'd made love to last night had vanished. The shell of the woman standing before him was nearly unrecognizable. "I understand far more than you know. Good-bye, Dan."

He reached for her, but she slipped out of his grasp and out of his house. Watching her walk away, he realized that it was a really long walk to town; she wouldn't really leave without asking for a ride. Would she?

She never once slowed down or turned around. He knew; he watched from the doorway to his empty home. But who could he call to give her a ride, because he knew she wouldn't accept one from him.

"I'm such an idiot!" He checked the stove, unplugged the coffeemaker, and sprinted to his car. He caught up to her a half mile down the road. This was getting to be a habit. He sighed and slowed down so he could talk while she walked. He called out, "Get in the car, Meg."

She pretended she didn't hear him.

Keeping up with her wasn't easy, because of the manual transmission, but he rode the clutch to keep the car going at the same speed she was walking. "Please, get in the car, Meg."

The third time he asked, she finally turned to glare at him. "Don't need a ride, don't want one from you."