Joely made a face, but Perry grinned, softening her remark. "No, I don't think you're crazy. I think

you're being sensible. I mean, once you sleep with him, you're making some kind of commitment, aren't you?"

"In this case, yes, I think so."

"I think in any case, with you."

Joely sighed. "You know me too well."

Outside in the showroom, the bell on the door rang, indicating the arrival of another customer.

"Things are hopping today," said Perry. "I'm glad you came back. This is nothing like a Wednesday at all."

"Good." Joely stood, nodding decisively. "Customers are good. They'll take my mind off-" She waved

vaguely. "-all that other stuff."

But throughout the busy afternoon, as she helped customers pick out gifts for their spouses, their parents, or even for themselves, the memory of Rey's kiss tantalized the edges of her thoughts. By closing time, she'd made her decision.

After closing up the shop, Joely drove to the lodge, intending to take Rey to the diner to retrieve his car.

But the car was already in the parking lot. Puzzled, she went into the lobby.

"Hi, Joely," said Virginia brightly. "How's business?"

Joely smiled at the older woman's typical-and occasionally annoying-perkiness.

"Great, as a matter of fact," Joely told her. "Have you talked to Rey this afternoon?"

"I drove him over to get his car. He seems to be feeling much better." Her lined features took on a dreamy look. "He's such a nice young man. You really should think about not divorcing him."

Joely shook her head, half bemused and half annoyed. "I suppose he's told you all our business?"

"No, not really. Just a little, here and there."

"Just enough for you to feel comfortable doling out advice?"

"Oh, honey, I'd feel comfortable doling out advice on a lot less information than that." Virginia laughed.

"I think you know that, too." "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." She s.h.i.+fted her purse strap on her shoulder. "I'd better go. I was going to surprise Rey, take him to dinner."

"Go on up, then. You know the way."

So she did, but as she got closer to Rey's door, her feet seemed to forget. Or maybe they were just forgetting how to move. They certainly did slow down appreciably.

Finally, she stood in front of his door. With an effort, wondering where this small, irrevocable move would take her, she knocked.

Rey opened the door. He smiled brightly at her, looking considerably perkier than he had when she'd left him. Considerably better dressed, too. He wore jeans and a cream-colored Irish knit sweater. No shoes, though. She looked down at his big feet in his socks and thought about his toes. He had an interesting trick he did with his toes.

"Hey, Joely. Come on in."

She did, brus.h.i.+ng deliberately against him as she pa.s.sed. Lightly, but deliberately. "You look like you're feeling better."

"Much." He closed the door behind her. "How was your day?"

"Very good. We're selling useless baubles and knick-knacks hand over fist."

"Great to hear." He paused, studying her face. "You have something important to say?"

She grimaced, exasperated. What right did he have to still be able to read her face so well? "Sort of. I thought you might like to have dinner."

"Yes. I haven't had much but noodles and broth today, and I'm starving."

"Noodles and broth? Virginia's secret recipe, I a.s.sume?"

"Yes, and very good. It seemed to kill the bug, too."

"I told you, it wasn't a bug, it was alt.i.tude sickness."

"And I still think you made that up."

"I didn't, and I'll prove it to you."

"When?"

"Tonight, maybe. I'm inviting you to dinner. At my house."

The air in the room seemed to still as he looked at her, a smile lurking in his eyes, on his mouth. Joely

caught her breath. He was like a force of nature, the eighth natural wonder of the world- "At your house?" he asked.

She forced her expression to remain neutral. "That's what I said. I'll even cook."

He grinned. "Wow. That's big."

"It's huge, Rey. Now come on, before I change my mind."

Joely pulled into her garage and shut off the ignition. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, she saw Rey's

headlights as his rental car stopped behind hers in the driveway.

Unaccountably nervous, as if Rey's opinion actually mattered to her, she got out of the car. He closed

his door behind him and headed into the garage.

"And I thought driving in New York was scary," he said.

She snorted. "That wasn't scary. That was fairly tame."

"I'll bet it's scarier in the daytime, when you can see how far the road drops off on either side."

"Actually, it's scarier in the dark, when you can't." She pointed toward the door that led into the house.

"This way."

As she led the way, he scanned her small garage with what Joely interpreted as a critical eye.

"It's small," she said, antic.i.p.ating criticism. Their life in New York had been so different from what she

had made for herself here. Of course he would find it strange. "It's just me-I don't need a mansion."

"It's a log cabin," he said, with some wonder in his voice.

She smiled, pleasantly surprised. So that was what had captured his attention. "Yes, it is."

"That's-so cool."

The odd, almost envious glint in his eyes caught her off guard. Rey was a city boy, born and bred-what

was he doing getting excited about a log cabin? For a split second, she wondered if she really knew him as well as she thought she did. It was a disconcerting thought.

"I think it's neat." She opened the door into the house, at the same time pus.h.i.+ng a b.u.t.ton to close the garage door. "I wish I could show you the view. It's fantastic."

"Yeah, it's a little dark right now." Following her into the house, he laid a hand against the curve of her waist and said softly into her ear, "Maybe I'll see it in the morning."

She twisted away from his touch, fighting an instinct to move into his partial embrace. "You'll be back at the lodge in the morning."

"Are you sure about that?" His voice was velvet. She could almost feel it on her skin, like fingers trailing, leaving arousal in their wake.

She turned and fixed him with the best glare she could summon with her blood heating up inside her. "Don't push it, Rey."

Moving past him, she went to the refrigerator and pulled out makings for salad, tossing the head of lettuce onto the cabinet with more force than strictly necessary. Of all the things she didn't want Rey to be right now, arrogant was at the top of the list.

Giving him a dark look through narrowed eyes, she amended that. s.e.xy was at the top of the list, followed closely by desirable. Arrogant ranked third.

"I'm sorry," Rey said. "I'm a little nervous."

"Nervous?" Arrogant had just been kicked to fourth place by adorable. "Why would you be nervous?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"This was your idea, Rey. If it's not working, maybe you should back out."

The red bell pepper she'd just put on the cutting board rolled off and hit the floor. Rey picked it up and put it back, coming uncomfortably close to her again as he stepped closer to the kitchen counter. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Exasperated, Joely pulled a knife out of a drawer and set to work on the head of lettuce. "I don't know. See if you can find the chicken in the fridge."

There was silence for a time as Rey pulled out the thawed chicken b.r.e.a.s.t.s and a pair of tomatoes. He helped himself to another knife and a cutting board, and within minutes they were following an old rhythm, one worked out over practice in the kitchen of their first apartment where the s.p.a.ce had been limited, she cutting veggies for the salad, he a.s.sembling chicken cacciatore in a skillet on the stove. He swiped a handful of her chopped bell peppers, a handful of her mushrooms. She pa.s.sed him a bottle of oregano before he asked for it.

It wasn't until that moment, when his fingers touched hers on the bottle of spice, that she realized what was happening. How automatically it had happened. Old rhythms, picked up as if not a day had pa.s.sed, much less over a year. She swallowed hard, thinking about the implications. About other rhythms, other rituals. His body and hers, moving together, taking, giving- She didn't pa.s.s him the basil until he asked. Twice.

"Just like I remembered it." Rey pushed his chair back from the table, leaving a sc.r.a.ped-clean plate behind. He meant everything had been just like he remembered it, not just the chicken cacciatore, which admittedly had more going for it in terms of sentiment than in gourmet quality cooking. But the way they'd cooked it...

Joely swept up his plate as well as her own, carrying them to the sink. "Glad you liked it."

"Remember when we used to both get home from work and make that for dinner?"

She didn't look at him. "Yeah, I remember."

He smiled, taking advantage of the fact she couldn't see him. He got the impression she was remembering a lot of things. That was good. He wanted to remind her of the good times, so she could forget the bad times. And do the same for himself. When he remembered what he had done, how he had, in so many ways, just thrown her away, it hurt. He wanted to stop hurting.

But what should his next move be? He didn't want her to get dinner wound up and decide it was time for him to leave. Desperately scanning the living room, his attention lighted on a CD player on a shelf by the TV. "Music?"

"Sure, why not." She sounded like she hadn't even heard him.

He picked out a CD from the stack next to the player-a female artist whose name he didn't recognize. The music started with a soft arrangement of guitars. That would work. He let it play and sat down on the couch.