His Halloween Kisses (4 page)

No, she was pretty useless at keeping a serious relationship going.

“I'll find the last one.” He pushed her gently aside with his shoulder.

“I had fun. Wondered if I'd find something really private and secret amongst all your stuff.” She winked at him.

“What? Like what?” His eyes twinkled despite the anguished tone.

“Don't get so defensive. I like naughty.”

He actually blushed.

Of course, she'd never considered naughty until she met Byron.

“Cocoa is ready.” Wendy shouted from the passage. “Got the sleeping bags yet?”

“Ali found them.”

“You need a wife,” Wendy said as she came in the room. “Look at this place.”

“I'll get a maid when I'm settled here.” He pulled a scrunched-up face at his sister. “Definitely do not need a wife.” For a moment, hurt flickered across his face.

Whoa! Run a mile. This guy has issues.

Just like her.

They wouldn't make a healthy pair.

“Look, I really must get home. I'm tired…and I need to find someone to house-sit for me. I can't leave their house unattended.”
Get out of here as quickly as possible.

“Aw,” Wendy said. “I was just starting to like you.”

Ali's face heated, and she looked away, not without smiling broadly. “We're not dating, Byron and I.”

“Oh.”

“No, we only met tonight.”

Wendy opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Byron shifted from one foot to the other, a scowl darkening his usual cheery features.

What did she say wrong now?

“I don't normally kiss women I'm not dating,” he said. Oh, that was it?

Ali laughed. “Well, it was fun.” She wanted to embarrass him in front of his sister; pay him back for being such a jerk.

He gritted his teeth and glared at her, but she promptly turned away and made her way to her handbag to find her cell phone. She'd phone for a lift from one of her roommates even if they weren't home yet.

Thankfully, within five minutes, she'd arranged a lift and would only have to spend another twenty minutes with Byron and his family.

****

Byron drank the last grainy sip of cold cocoa at the bottom of his mug and nodded numbly at his mom. She babbled on about his need to get married again. Probably the only reason she'd driven all the way from Pretoria to visit him. Not to see how his new home looked and to ask about his job.

He wasn't ready to settle down. Not that he didn't want a decent relationship, but with his job unstable and unsure whether he wanted to stay in this rural town, he didn't think now was the time to find the love of his life. He'd thought he had found the love of his life a year ago and didn't want to go down that road again. And of course, there were tentative ties for him back in Pretoria, a possibility for the issues to be ironed out…

“Did you chase her away?”

“Who?” Byron asked even though he knew she talked about Ali. They couldn't mean Kelly. Kelly had pushed
him
away.

“She wanted to leave.”

“After the kiss you gave her, I'm surprised.”

“Mom.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“What did you say to upset her? I could see her whole mood had changed when she came through for cocoa. She was ready to leave in a hurry. I haven't brought my son up to be rude to women. I've brought you up a gentleman even if you don't like the girl.”

Was Mom referring to what had happened with Kelly? Nah. She'd never taken to Kelly. It couldn't be mistaken that Ali had been in a hurry to leave all of a sudden. Probably something he'd said in the bedroom. Possibly about not wanting a relationship. The pretty woman couldn't be disappointed, surely? They'd only just met. Yes, their kisses were hot, hotter than he'd ever experienced before, but that wasn't a reason to change his plans.

“Make it up to her somehow,” Wendy said.

He narrowed his eyes at his sister. “What if I don't want to?”

Wendy sighed. “Of course you do. It's the right thing to do.”

He sniffed, wishing they wouldn't interfere in his romantic life.

“How's your job?” Mom asked.

“It's good. Hard but good.”
Whew, a change of subject
.

“You coping?” Wendy asked.

He shrugged. “I'll get there.”

He felt a tense silence. As much as he liked that they cared, he didn't feel free to share all his uncertainties with them. Mom had been wary of him moving towns for a job he wasn't sure about. He didn't want to admit she may have been right.

Wendy took the cue to talk about her exams, and they entered a detailed conversation because Byron had done the same degree as her. Mom yawned and picked up a magazine, leaving them to chat until late.

Once he'd settled his two ladies on the sleeper couch in the lounge with the sleeping bags and a dim light on, he went to bed. He still hadn't picked up all the towels on the floor. Yawning wide, he grabbed them, reliving the kiss he'd shared with Ali right there. His towels would probably always remind him of that kiss. How did she draw him so fast? He didn't even love her but couldn't stop thinking about her. He should be thinking of Kelly, not Ali, a strange girl he'd only seen for the first time a few hours ago.

He rubbed his tired eyes and sank down on the bed.

Ali.

How had she caused him to kiss her four times in one night? She'd burrowed under his skin, and he couldn't stop dreaming of touching her. Every thought sent a thrill of excitement through him, a longing to go on the adventure of discovering her.

No, he couldn't.

But he had to apologise for being rude, although he wasn't sure how he had been, but he could have persuaded her to stay longer or even offered her a lift home so she wouldn't have to wait for her brother hours later.

How could he make it up to her without being soppy or making her think he wanted more than just “friends?”

Tomorrow was another day. He'd think of something then.

Oh well, if this were the end, what could she do? Ali sat in the principal's office while he spoke to someone on the phone. She'd been summoned to his office to discuss something. Her mind had run through every fax and email she'd sent the last week and every phone call she'd put through, grasping for some clue that she'd done something terribly wrong, but all she could think of was how careful and thorough she'd been.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Mr. Grenare held a slight smile on his face.

She sucked in a breath, trying not to think the worst, hoping he was in a good mood and was merely about to ask her to tackle a new task. Usually, he came to her to do that, but maybe…

He folded his arms onto the mahogany desk, his grey fringe flopping onto his freckled forehead. “Miss Buhle, our permanent art teacher, resigned suddenly last week. We have put out adverts in the newspaper and online for a new teacher but haven't received a single application. While we wait for someone to teach our students, we have no one to fill in for her. All the other teachers are busy with extra-curricular and their own lessons.”

She nodded. The school was big on extra-curricular to the point of obsession. Sometimes, she wondered how the kids and parents kept up with all the activities they were required to take part in as well as the pages of homework they were given from the teachers. All government requirements.

“From perusing the CVs of our admin staff, I've decided you will be the best candidate.”

“Candidate?” Her mind raced. They weren't going to expect her to…?

“You have studied jewellery design and other art courses in college. None of the other admin staff have any experience in the creative field. I'm assigning you to take over most of Miss. Buhle's art lessons until we can find a permanent art teacher.”

“But…”

“Look, I know you have no teaching experience…”

She did have some but was sure he wouldn't consider her years as a teen tutoring her fellow students in history and science. Not quite what he would deem real teaching experience.

She nodded and clasped her hands together in her lap, trying to ignore the tightness in her throat as her heart seemed to beat against it.

“But your creative studying will come in handy. Maybe you could even teach the students about jewellery design.”

All she could do was say a small “yes” while inside she screamed “no.” He'd presented her with another opportunity to fail dismally and lose her job for good. But if she didn't take the position, they may see her as unwilling to help out in a time of need.

“I'll do it.”

“Good.” He stood up as though everything was so simple and she didn't have a million questions going through her mind.

He handed her a paper. “Here's Miss Buhle's schedule which you typed up a few months back, but I've scribbled a few changes on it. Some of her lessons have been assigned to the music teacher, but you still have several to fill. When you need to teach, you can ask Leigh to take your place.”

Ali pasted on a fake smile and took the paper, trying to hold it steady and appear totally confident about this new task. She could do it. She stiffened her chin and stood firmly on her feet. Maybe this would be fun.

But teach them jewellery design? How was that possible in a school setting without the necessary tools and materials?

She had her work cut out for her. She walked out the office with her head held high, well, as high as she could with a quivering chin.

Maybe it was a good thing because she really needed to get her mind off the four Halloween kisses. They'd kept her up for several nights already. Those and Byron's tight curls, neat butt, and easy grin. Not to mention his words echoing in her head constantly.
Look, I'm not ready for a relationship.

Once back in her office, she set to preparing some lessons during any quiet moment which were few and far between.

Even if she didn't have the tools, maybe she could get the kids to sketch some designs. She could teach them the basic principles of jewellery design, and they could make origami or clay models. Ideas kept coming, and by lunch time, she hummed with anticipation. She took the free time in her lunch hour to go to Miss Buhle's classroom and look around. When she came back, her desk was inundated with messages and typing to do, so she had to forget about her lesson plans. At least she could have something to work on in the evenings when her friends were out with their boyfriends on dates. Life started to look up. The last few months, as each of her friends had found a steady boyfriend, she'd become lonelier by the day. They hadn't noticed because she'd made out she was happy for them. And she truly was happy for
them,
but not for herself.

Pushing aside a paper to type up, she noticed a small box and envelope on her desk. “What's this?”

Leigh, the clerical assistant in her office, spoke from behind her.

“Some man dropped it off earlier.”

“Man. Who?”

“He didn't give his name.”

She opened the envelope. Inside lay a tacky Halloween card with a spider and witch's hat on the front. Curly scrawl just like Byron's hair filled all the blank spaces.

Happy Halloween

Hope your Halloween night ended better than it started. Glad I could have helped you in some way. Sorry you had to go home so early.

Keep alive,

Byron

She couldn't help chuckling at his sign off. Why had he sent her this if he didn't want a relationship? Maybe he was just being polite.

She opened the little box wrapped in black, pulling apart a silky, orange ribbon. All Halloween colours. The guy certainly had a sense of humour. Something warm and squishy slid around inside her, a confusing feeling she wanted to push away yet couldn't quite shake.

She recognized a jewellery box even though this one was a little odd. She'd worked as an apprentice in a jewellery store in Jo'burg for three months, but after leaving the metropolitan city in a hurry to get back home, she'd had to resign her job and now could only find the position at the school. Bracing herself, she nearly choked when she saw what he'd bought her.

A cheap faux silver chain, which would probably make her skin itch and go all brown from her sweat after wearing it a couple of times, held an embossed enamel and faux silver pendant with a scene from a horror movie. Silhouetted against a bright orange background stood a creepy house and a ghost flying through the sky.

Ugh! How tasteless.

Leigh came and hovered around, peering over her shoulder.

“What's that?” She screwed up her nose.

“Some practical joke.”

Did he expect her to wear it?

“It's kind of funny and cute, but you could only wear it once a year. On Halloween. And that's just passed.”

“I know.”

Leigh rolled her eyes. “Whoever gave you that has no taste.”

“I know. Cheap Chinese import. I should know.” She'd worked with pure gold and silver; knocked, filed, and bent it to her own wishes.

She ran her finger over the convex smooth disk and something shifted inside her. As cheap and poor quality the item was, she wanted to put it on right now. She handed it to Leigh.

“Put it on for me.”

“You've got to be kidding? Halloween's over, and you're wearing pink.”

Ali laughed. “I know, but I want to see how it looks. Quick, before someone comes.” She turned her head to the door to make sure one of the bosses didn't walk in and find them chatting instead of working. Her body was always on guard, in a perpetual tense state in case she did something wrong.

Leigh fumbled with the tiny clasp and put the necklace on. She went back to work immediately. Ali took out her make-up mirror and had a quick peek at the necklace on her neck and giggled at how ridiculous it looked against her gold tear-drop pendant and chain.

Her new students would probably hate her necklace and wouldn't want to listen to her instructions about jewellery design, but for now, she liked what it represented. Somehow, the necklace was there for her. Even if Byron wouldn't be there, the memories of Halloween night would stay with her when she saw the necklace, the sensation of how thrilling it was to be kissed by a stranger three times in the dark. Having her sight blocked out had brought to life her other senses. Something had awoken inside of her—some dormant, sexual part of her soul that she'd kept tucked away for another day—a need for touch, that longing for a man to ravish her and take her into a fantasy world.

She worked with a smile on her face, a bit of the usual tension easing out of her.

Even if she didn't have Byron, maybe she could find someone else. About time she started going out on dates instead of being caught up with the stresses of her job. She'd been afraid of herself, of her inability to make romance work in her life. Time to push those fears away and just enjoy herself—take some risks and live a little.

The day came to an end faster than she expected, and she caught her lift home to the house where she stayed with her roommates. She couldn't wait to tell them she would join them tonight when they went out to a dancing club. Not that she could dance, but she could watch, maybe meet someone, get out of the house. As she opened the door and went inside, the place sounded dead quiet. Maybe everyone hadn't returned from work yet. She set to making supper for the four girls who stayed in their house. They took turns to cook, and although it wasn't her turn, she thought she'd get started on it and share the good news with them over a nice meal with wine.

After she'd prepared the food and sat down to eat, some of the excitement seeped out of her. Maybe they'd gone out already. It had gotten so bad that they didn't even invite her anymore. Oh well, she had some lessons to prepare.

Scoffing the food down way too quick, she left the dishes for later and went to her desk in her room to start her work. She took out her old study notes and began to sketch and type up lessons on her computer. Thankfully, the hours went fast, and when she looked at the time, it was close to ten.

Tomorrow, she'd have to find an epoxy clay and gemstone supplier in town. The clasps to hold the epoxy clay settings and even the gemstones could probably be bought from a bead shop. There were several of those scattered around Newcastle. Epoxy clay may be more difficult to find.

Her friends stayed out late, because by the time she'd cleaned the kitchen and put her work notes away and climbed into bed, the house remained silent. At least there weren't any creaks, groans, and crashes. As much as she enjoyed the freedom and independence of house-sitting, she wouldn't do that again. Good thing her brother had taken her slot until the owners of the “haunted” house had come back home. In the light the next day, she'd discovered that the crashes had been caused by the wind knocking picture frames off the walls. It had taken her hours to pick up all the glass and clean up the place. Amazing how, in the day, the house didn't seem so haunted anymore. If Byron knew, maybe he wouldn't have kissed her. The thought brought a smile to her face, and she touched her lips in the dark, trying to relive the feeling of his soft lips contrasted with his stubble upon her cheek. Imagining didn't seem to have the same effect as the real thing. Had the fear accentuated the thrilling sensation of his kisses? Was that possible? So what? She would still treasure those memories forever.

****

The day dragged for Byron. Some of the unions had organised a strike, and several of the workers were off. But there were many orders to fill for customers. He had a small handful of the faithful few to work with to get a lot done.

By lunchtime, he felt exhausted and harried. He was not used to barking orders. In the previous corporate place where he worked, people wanted to do their jobs. They didn't have to be nagged constantly. The work ethic seemed to be different in a blue collar company. People saw hard work as a means to get a promotion or a good thirteenth cheque. Here, the labourers wanted hand-outs and used the unions to manipulate their way to get higher salaries even when they didn't deserve it. Now he was being exposed to what it meant to be a manager in South Africa. Why hadn't he become an engineer as he'd originally planned?

Maybe because deep inside, he loved taking a company from nothing and making it thrive. He loved seeing growth, and he loved working with minimum potential to bring great output.

The phone rang in his office, breaking his deep train of thought. Sometimes the receptionist put customers through to him when she didn't know what department could handle their queries.

“Hi.” He heard a familiar voice on the line. A voice that sent tingles throughout his body. Ripples of heat and need. He would remember her voice anywhere because that was his first contact with her. He'd heard Ali before he'd ever seen her.

“Ali.”

“Byron?” The surprise was evident in her tone.

“How did you find me?”

“I wasn't looking for you.” She laughed. “I'm sourcing epoxy clay and gemstones. I believe your company manufactures clays.”

No wonder they'd put her through to him. Epoxy clay wasn't one of their usual orders, but they could make a special order for an important client who would order in bulk and make it financially viable to change their processes.

“We can make epoxy clay. How much do you need?”

“Maybe about ten kilograms.” Her voice sounded smooth and sweet on the phone, and he suddenly wanted to see her again, if not only to listen to her. Kiss her would be good too. She'd looked so much better than he'd expected. Somehow, he had expected a plain Jane. Maybe because he couldn't believe a woman could kiss so well and be beautiful at the same time.

Back to the conversation
, he told himself. He was at work and dealing with a customer.

And he shouldn't be going for Ali. Not now.

The factory he worked at could never change their processes for such a small amount. He hated to disappoint her.

“We don't normally make such small amounts for a special order.”

“Oh.” His heart sank at the disappointment in her voice.

“Look, I'll make an exception for you. What do you need it for?”

“Well, the art teacher left suddenly, and they want me to teach some lessons. It's scary. I've never taught in a proper school before. The principal suggested I show them jewellery design, and I wanted to use something affordable and easy to work with. Clay epoxy is ideal. I'll let them set some gemstones onto cheap beading bases. Do you have it in a variety of colours?”

“I'm not sure. As far as I know, we only do the standard natural, but I can check.”

“Oh, I wonder how I could colour it.”

He had a feeling this was important to her. She'd expressed concern about her secretarial position at the school. Maybe teaching art would be the breakthrough she needed. He wanted to help, but at this time, when the workers were on strike, he couldn't put the bulk orders aside for something that would make them very little profit. Especially when the company was struggling to rise above the economic downswing. And he'd been hired for the specific purpose of getting things running smoothly. He'd also been hired to make the customers happy. His brain ticked furiously to come up with a compromise.

“I shouldn't really be helping you with this…”

“Okay, don't worry. I'll come up with another plan.” Her sinking tone sent a churning through his stomach.

“Wait, I'm not finished. I didn't say I won't do it, but I need your help. If you find a way of advertising for us, I can record this as a marketing venture. Maybe display the creations your students make and say you used our clay.”

She laughed. “You are a schemer.”

“Give me a couple of hours. I'm going to work on it after-hours as we have a union strike going on at the moment.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn't know that.” Her kind voice seeped into him, but he ignored the trigger. He couldn't be more than friends to this young woman. He would only hurt her if things didn't work out, and he had to leave. And if she knew his true situation, how would she respond?

“It's fine. I'll do it for you.”

“Thanks, Byron. Thanks so much and thank you for the necklace. It was…sweet.”

“Tacky, I know. You must think it's awful. I forgot you were into jewellery. It blinked back at me in the shop—was my way of making you not hate Halloween so much.”

“I'm wearing it.”

“Really?” He didn't actually think she'd wear it.

“Why?”

“Um…just for a joke for my students.” She sounded embarrassed. Was she hiding something from him? He didn't mean to lead her on. That's why he'd deliberately not bought her anything romantic.

“Well, I'd better go. My boss may come in. Let me know how much we owe you for the clay.”

“Nothing.” It just came out. “I'll cover it.”

“No, Byron, the school will pay for it. I don't expect you—”

“Shush. Let me do this for you. I want to help.”

“Thanks so much.” Gratefulness poured through the phone, sending sweet joy to him. Joy well over the top for such a small thing.

“Look, I have to run.” She said goodbye, and they ended the call.

He put the phone down and let out a big sigh. Why did he want to spoil her when he didn't even have a relationship with her? He loved hearing gratefulness in her voice. Liked picking up her smile or a tone of surprise.

He had a hectic week ahead of him. What a sucker for punishment. Nah, it was worth it to help a young woman succeed in her job. He knew how important it could be to young adults just getting started on their career.

“Ugh. I'd better get started with mine.” He mumbled to himself and set to work to organise the epoxy clay.

By seven that night, he still hadn't got the formula right for the clay. One of the workers had given him a recipe to work on after-hours, but because he wasn't knowledgeable on the processes side, he kept hitting a dead end. Maybe he should wait for the morning, but the morning meant bulk orders. And more had come in the late afternoon.

The factory door creaked open. Bother, he should have locked up, and now a customer would ask for something else. At this hour.

Ali walked in, dressed in blue overalls like a mechanic. Whoa, she looked sexy in the baggy jumper with her long dusty, brown hair in a ponytail bobbing on her slender neck. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“Hi.” She came up to him. “I thought you may need some help.”

“Yeah, sure. I…I'm not doing too well.”

“I thought you were the manager. How come you're in the factory side?”

“I had no choice. We've got too many bulk orders at the moment.”

“You really should have said ‘no' to me. I wouldn't have fainted.”

He grinned. “Kind of like you nearly did when the cat brushed past your leg.”

She punched him lightly on the arm, and he warmed at her sparring contact. The woman was fun to have around.

“Do you know what the crashes were?”

“No, do you?”

“Pictures falling off the walls.” She grinned.

“Those people need to secure their artwork a bit better.”

“The wind blew strong that night. Several trees fell on roads and people's roofs.”

“I know. I'm only teasing.”

He picked up the paper with instructions, his mind blanking out on what to do next. She bent over him as he read through the list of chemicals to mix together.

“What you doing?” She spoke into his ear with her unique ethereal voice, sending a shiver through him. “You shouldn't mix those together. Look.” She took the mixer from him, brushing against his hand like a butterfly wing. He nearly pulled back but was drawn to her, to being near her. Close up, her skin looked beautiful with a gentle sprinkle of freckles and a healthy sheen.

“We made a bit of this stuff at college.” She mixed one ingredient in at a time, oblivious to his confusing and overwhelming thoughts.

He watched her work capably with her hands, loving the swish of her curves against the plain fabric of the overalls as she moved. A fifth kiss would be good right now. Alone, in a quiet factory with this woman brought back his overpowering need to have her again. He pulled back, not wishing to make the same mistake as before.

Within moments, the clay began to look right. The texture turned out perfect.

“How do you do it?”

“If I'd had the materials, I would have made my own.”

“Show me how, and then we can get a bite to eat afterwards.”

“Are you sure?” The way she said it, he figured she'd become the unsure one. Not that he didn't have his doubts, but he owed her as much for coming to help him at night. And one more night together wouldn't do any harm.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“No, um…I came straight here after work. Well, after changing. I don't work in overalls.”

“I thought so.” He winked. He tried to imagine her in smart work clothes and thought she would look good cleaned up too. Something about her fresh face, the unusual colour of her hair, and the simple, transparent smile she gave, stirred up a longing inside of him for more than a friendship. He loved her smile—sweet and pure as though she didn't hide her genuine approval. Her eyes sparkled easily, and she had the softest, smoothest lips in the world.

Ali's naturally rosy complexion went crimson. He'd been staring at her.

“Well, let's finish off here. How many colours do you want?”

“Do you have the metallic powders? I can dip them in after the kids have set them into their shapes.”

He put his finger on his mouth. “I think I know where they are.” It came back to him in a moment which colours should be used with the clay. He rushed to the paint and dye store room and looked around, not expecting Ali to follow. Finding her behind him in the small enclosed space made his heart rate accelerate and his palms sweat. All he knew was the smell of her spicy perfume and the sense of her closeness.

“I'm not doing too well.” The words tumbled out without him thinking.

“I could manage without colours.” In the small space, her voice shuddered through him, seeping into his bones.

What was the point of resisting? It proved only torture. He'd think about the consequences later when she wasn't around.

He spun around and grasped her around the waist. Her waist felt so small and firm, even beneath the bulky fabric of the overalls. Her eyes closed immediately as if she knew he planned to kiss her. Of course, they seemed to always end up kissing. She pouted her lips slightly and fluttered her eyelids. How could he resist?

His lips were on hers in a moment, and the room spun, the light bulb above like a star in the sky. He held onto her roughly, wishing he could keep her. No, that wouldn't work. He couldn't risk hurting her, but surely a simple kiss here and there wouldn't hurt her. They were merely having fun. Two adults enjoying the pleasures of being grown-up.

Her lips felt soft and pliable, yielding to his every movement. He didn't want to pull away. He sank his fingers into the sweep of hair strands going into her ponytail. He massaged her scalp, and she gave a little moan into his mouth.

This had spun out of control. He had to pull away…

“We'd better hurry.” She pulled away and spoke with a shaky voice. “Before the restaurant gets too busy.”

Her logic was faulty. The restaurant wouldn't be particularly busy at eight at night. Would probably be emptier on a week night. He got the message. She didn't think they should carry on. Of course not.

He turned away, afraid she would see the disappointment in his eyes, and the flush he felt on his neck and all over his body from the effect she had on him.

“Don't say you're sorry.” She mumbled at his back. “Because I'm not.”

He smiled and focused on the coloured powders. Swirls of happiness pulsed through him. Guilt struck the happiness away like lightning from the sky. “Which colours would you like? We have gold, bronze, silver, and black.”

“The three metallic ones will work perfectly. You're a star.” Her small face pointed up at him with admiration. His throat clogged. He was falling for Ali very fast. This couldn't be happening. Not what he'd planned to happen in his temporary escape from Pretoria.

He grabbed a container of each and held them to his chest. “Switch off the light on your way out.”

“Okay.”

After a few more minutes, all the clay she needed was mixed and packed in a plastic bag. He put everything in a cardboard box and took it to her car.

“Where shall we meet?” she asked.

“Pierini?” The classiest place in town. At least that he knew.

“I don't think so. I'd have to dress up smart.”

Ah, pity. He'd like to see her with her hair down and glammed up.

“The new grill at Amajuba Mall?” he asked.

“I'd like to try it. Never been there before.”

“Me neither.”

She grinned. “Well, there's always a first time for everything.”

First time to kiss a woman in the dark. First time to truly fall in love. His first time to be so reckless with another woman's heart? He swallowed. “In half an hour?”

She nodded and climbed into her car.