Although Tom dreaded the whole idea, he was burdened with the impossible task of helping Darla understand his position, which was one of not being even slightly in love with her. Ironically what made this even more difficult was the fact that he couldn't understand what in the world made her want him. She didn't really love his world, his apple kingdom.

"Movie, Tom?" she asked. "Maybe While You Were Sleeping?"

"Darla, before we look at movies, we have to talk. Let's talk in the kitchen. I'll fix you up with another glass of wine," he said. "I'll have a beer with you."

She grinned devilishly. "Tom, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"No," he said, though that wasn't a bad idea. "Thing is..." Then he stopped. "Listen, how did you say you met Bob?"

"Did I say?"

"I think so. I can't remember."

"He was in Colorado Springs, snowboarding."

In Vail, skiing. He did so remember.

"Did you date very long?"

"Not long, no. A few months. Almost just enough time to plan a nice wedding. It was beautiful. He had his orders for deployment right before the ceremony, actually."

"Hmm," Tom pondered, rubbing his jaw. "You must've fallen in love with him the second you met him."

She sighed. "Well, what wasn't to love? Big, handsome, decorated hero. Every woman I knew envied me. Bob was very nearly famous!"

"Didn't you worry about how complicated life might be with a husband in the Corps? Hadn't he deployed before?"

"Three times before," she said with a nod. "But no-I wasn't worried. And I sure wasn't going to wait till the age of forty to be married."

"Huh?" he asked.

"I expected to be married by thirty and when that didn't happen I-"

"Huh?" he said again, interrupting her. "Bob was twenty-seven," Tom said. "He enlisted right out of high school. He had almost ten years in. He told me he wanted a career."

"That was just talk among the men," Darla said with a wave of her hand. "Bob was a little younger than me."

He leaned toward her. "How much younger?"

"A few years. But it was instant love..."

She had searched him on Google, Tom thought. Why hadn't he done the same? "How old are you?" he asked.

"Tom! Do you need to see my driver's license?"

He gave a nod. "Don't need to, but..."

"Thirty-five," she said, unmistakable annoyance in her tone. "That wasn't a problem for us!"

"And you weren't married very long when he deployed?"

"A couple of months, most of which he was with his unit and I was in Denver, but we saw each other every week. Almost every week."

She had said less than a year, as Tom recalled. Well, that was far less. And her couple of months was probably actually a couple of weeks.

"Why all these questions?" she asked.

"Well, we haven't known each other that long and I'm trying to figure out a few things. Like what you think our life would be like if we got serious..."

"I'm sure it would be so much fun!"

"Oh? And what fun things do we do together?" he asked.

She took a sip of her wine, her mood brightening. "Not many things, so far-but you've been very busy with the harvest. And you said the harvest doesn't last all year. I suppose when you're finally not picking apples and making cider all the time we can explore some of the fun things that revolve around my job-the travel, the entertainment, events. I have season tickets to the symphony."

Kill me now, Tom thought. He knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, she did not capture Bob with that bait.

"And every now and then I get passes to the company's box at the Lakers' games-you have to like that idea. I'm not really into sports, but I love being in that skybox."

He reached for her hand across the kitchen table. "Darla, have you thought about how our lives just don't match? I like to watch sports on TV-you like romances, chick flicks. I'd rather hunt than go to a symphony. And, well, I live with my grandmother."

She laughed softly. "Tom, I adore Maxie, but as this gets more serious, you wouldn't continue to live with your grandmother. We would have to be alone together sometime! In fact, I think it's about time we explore what *alone' would get us."

It could get us laid, he thought. And what a damn shame. The idea of having sex wasn't far from his mind-he wanted sex! This woman was amazing-looking-and he didn't want her at all. He didn't even want to kiss her and he was no longer curious about her perfect breasts.

He'd been having very disturbing dreams for several weeks in which he was having the most delicious sex of his life. He was taking his partner to heights she'd never before experienced and she was satisfying him in ways he hadn't imagined. They were like bunnies, just screwing their brains out. He could taste her, feel her breasts and hard nipples under his hands, slide into her and make her climax in seconds over and over again and he would wake up hungry for her.

And she was Nora, the woman he didn't want to want. Every goddamn last time, she was Nora. The woman with kids from a felon, the girl who was desperately down on her luck and hanging on to her dreams and her pride by a thread...

...and impressing the hell out of everyone, including him. Though she had these profound obstacles, she laughed as though life was a treat. It was only Tom who had hang-ups, who wanted the woman of the rest of his life to match some unachievable fantasy woman. What a fool. The real deal had been picking apples for him all along.

Duke wandered to the back door. He wagged and looked over his shoulder at Tom and Tom got up to let him out, welcoming the distraction.

"There are so many options for us to look at as we get to know each other better," Darla was saying. "I mean, things change, Tom. I'm sure you won't want to grow apples forever. Then again, maybe you'll want to expand, have a good team running the place while you do something else. And did you know that one of Maxie's friends lives in a very nice seniors' community?"

Just out of stubbornness he asked, "Which one?"

"Oh, I can't remember. I think it was-"

Duke started to bark ferociously, that kind of bark that Tom recognized, not just from Duke, who was ten years old, but from dogs of his youth. That wild, high-pitched cry for backup. His eyes grew big, his mouth opened. He shot to his feet just as the dog's scream came, as if he'd been attacked.

"Did you leave the gate open?" he asked Darla in a shout.

"I...ah...I don't..."

"Tom!" Maxie yelled as she came pounding down the stairs.