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to gesture to the door on the side of the room. "And since it's girls, if any of us share that one, it won't be too weird having it link up the two bedrooms on this side."

"You're sure everyone will fall in line."

Now she turned to him, fully. "Confidence is the first step to getting what you want, or need. But we'll say I'm hoping Layla and Cyb will agree it's efficient, practical, and would be more comfortable to share the house for a few months than to bunk at the hotel. Especially considering the fact that both Layla and I are pretty well put off of the dining room there after Slugfest."

"You don't have any furniture."

"Flea markets. We'll pick up the essentials. Cal, I've stayed in less stellar accommodations and done it for one thing. A story. This is more. Somehow or other I'm connected to this story, this place. I can't turn that off and walk away."

He wished she could, and knew if she could his feelings for her wouldn't be as strong or as complex. "Okay, but let's agree, here and now, that if you change your mind and do just that, no explanations needed."

"That's a deal. Now, let's talk rent. What's this place going to run us?"

"You pay the utilities-heat, electric, phone, cable."

"Naturally. And?"

"That's it."

"What do you mean, that's it?"

"I'm not going to charge you rent, not when you're staying here, at least in part, because of me. My family, my friends, my town. We're not going to make a profit off that."

"Straight arrow, aren't you, Caleb?"

"About most."

"I'll make a profit-she says optimistically-from the book I intend to write."

"If we get through July and you write a book, you'll have earned it."

"Well, you drive a hard bargain, but it looks like we have a deal." She stepped forward, offered a hand.

He took it, then cupped his other at the back of her neck. Surprise danced in her eyes, but she didn't resist as he eased her toward him.

He moved slow, the closing together of bodies, the meeting of lips, the testing slide of tongues. There was no explosion of need as there had been in that moment in the clearing. No sudden, almost painful shock of desire. Instead, it was a long and gradual glide from interest to pleasure to ache while her head went light and her blood warmed. It seemed everything inside her went quiet so that she heard, very clearly, the low hum in her own throat as he changed the angle of the kiss.

He felt her give, degree by degree, even as he felt the hand he held in his go lax. The tension that had dogged him throughout the day drained away, so there was only the moment, the quiet, endless moment.

Even when he drew back, that inner stillness held. And she opened her eyes, met his.

"That was just you and me."

"Yeah." He stroked his fingers over the back of her neck. "Just you and me."

"I want to say that I have a policy against becoming romantically, intimately, or sexually-just to cover all my bases-involved with anyone directly associated with a story I'm researching."

"That's probably smart."

"I am smart. I also want to say I'm going to negate that policy in this particular case."

He smiled. "Damn right you are."

"Cocky. Well, mixed with the straight arrow, I have to like it. Unfortunately, I should get back to the hotel. I have a lot of...things. Details to see to before I can move in here."

"Sure. I can wait."

He kept her hand in his, switching off the light as he led her out.

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

CAL SENT A DOZEN PINK ROSES TO HIS MOTHER. She liked the traditional flower for Valentine's Day, and he knew his father always went for the red. If he hadn't known, Amy Yost in the flower shop would have reminded him, as she did every blessed year.

"Your dad ordered a dozen red last week, for delivery today, potted geranium to his grandma, and he sent the Valentine's Day Sweetheart Special to your sisters."

"That suck-up," Cal said, knowing it would make Amy gasp and giggle. "How about a dozen yellow for my gran. In a vase, Amy. I don't want her to have to fool with them."

"Aw, that's sweet. I've got Essie's address on file, you just fill out the card."

He picked one out of the slot, gave it a minute's thought before writing: Hearts are red, these roses are yellow. Happy Valentine's Day from your best fellow.

Corny, sure, he decided,