Perfect Fit (Serendipity's Finest)

Nine



Mike strode into his parents’ house with dread. A real case of need to know, don’t want to know. His mom had asked him to come on Saturday instead of Friday, so he’d put off any confrontation or discussion until today. Kojak greeted him in the foyer with yapping barks, and Mike scooped the little dog into his arms.

“Michael!” His mom met him in the den, ready with a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

“Hi, Mom.” He hugged her back.

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

He smiled. “I’m glad I’m here too. It’s nice to see you more than every couple of months.”

“Really?” she asked, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

He leaned back against the comfortable sofa cushion and paused to think. Not because he wasn’t happy to be here but because he knew what she meant. Was he happy to be in Serendipity, living here and not in the city?

“I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would,” he admitted.

“The job? Or being here?” His mother was dressed in a chocolate-brown sweat suit, looking as sharp as ever, despite the tiredness drawing deeper lines in her beautiful face.

“Both,” he said easily. So far he had no signs of antsiness or wanting to leave the small town where he’d grown up.

“That’s good!” His mom sounded as surprised as he felt. “Does Cara have something to do with that?” she asked, leaning forward and pressing personal issues as only a mother could.

He grinned indulgently. “Have I ever discussed my private life with you?”

She laughed. “As long as she makes you happy,” Ella said, putting her own interpretation on his words.

The correct interpretation, but Mike wasn’t about to tell her that. She’d be pushing him for more than he was ready to think about or admit. For all he knew, he’d wake up tomorrow needing the freedom of getting lost in Manhattan.

“Mom,” he said in a warning tone.

“Fine. Just so you know, your father and I approve. In case you were wondering.”

He wasn’t. He never had before. But a funny warmth spread through him now. Mike cleared his throat, reminding himself that he was here for a reason. “Where’s Dad?” he asked.

“Taking a nap. But he’s doing well with his treatments, and the doctor is really pleased.”

Mike let out a long breath. “I’m glad.”

“Me too. They say this exhaustion and weakness will go away after he finishes chemotherapy. I hope they’re right.”

“I’ve heard it takes a while for people to come back to themselves,” he cautioned her. “Some people are never quite the same.” He spoke gently, but wanted to prepare her.

She nodded, swallowing hard. “I know, honey. But I need to think positively to get through this and your father, and his will to live and get better…it’ll be fine.”

“I agree.” He sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Mom, I need to talk to you.”

“Of course. What is it?”

Mike broke into a sweat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d broached the subject of Rex. Though he meant it when he’d told Cara his mother was strong, neither one of them would enjoy this talk.

Better to get it over with, he thought. “I have questions about Rex Bransom.”

The color leeched from her face.

Mike rose and was beside her in an instant. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting…”

“I know. But something’s come up from years ago, and there are things I need to ask you.”

She nodded slowly, color returning to her cheeks. “You can ask me anything, you know that.”

Assured she’d recovered from the shock, he returned to his seat on the couch. “Here’s the situation.” Mike explained everything: the mayor’s request to clean up corruption, how it had led to the evidence room and the money, and how he and Cara had ended up at Judge Baine’s house and the man’s Alzheimer’s-induced ranting. “But there’s truth to some of what he said. There has to be. At the very least, he linked himself to Rex and admitted holding out on Simon. And Dad—well, Sam tried to talk to him about that time right before he got sick and he shut down completely. Wouldn’t say a word.”

Ella rose and paced the room.

Mike let her absorb his information before asking, “Mom, was Rex involved in anything back then?”

She turned, but didn’t meet his gaze.

“Mom?”

“Look, back then I was so absorbed in being pregnant and Rex’s reaction and then his leaving…I’m telling you the truth.” She clenched and unclenched her hands. “But I can tell you this,” she said softly. “Rex liked a challenge; he skated on the edge.”

“Like me,” Mike muttered, more to himself than to her.

“You don’t skate on illegalities, Michael. There were good parts of Rex, and those are the things you inherited from him. Don’t do this to yourself.”

He shook his head, agreeing with her on some things, not on others. “So I’m back to where I started. Either I push Dad, which I can’t do while he’s so weak, or I find Rex and get the answers myself.”

His mother swayed on her feet.

Mike muttered a curse, rose, and wrapped his arms around her, leading her to the sofa. “Sit.”

She did as he instructed.

“I’m getting you something to drink. Hang on.” Mike went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of orange juice. “Here. Drink this.”

He sat next to his mother while she drained the glass.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry to do this to you now.”

She shook her head. “Work or not, you have every right to ask about your father.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, until she looked up at him. Reaching out, she touched his hair, running her fingers through the too-long strands in a motherly gesture he remembered from childhood. “You look so much like him, you know.”

He glanced away. He didn’t know. Wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep any pictures. It was thoughtless of me, but I was young and I didn’t want Simon to think I still held a torch, you know?”

He nodded, not wanting to know the answer to that question either.

“So you want to find him?” his mother asked.

“Want to?” Mike let out a harsh laugh. “No. But I need to.”

“I’ve been in touch with him.”

The words came out so whisper soft he thought he heard wrong.

He whipped his head around and looked at his mother. “Say that again.”

“I’ve been in touch with Rex.”

Disbelief and a sense of betrayal ripped through him. When? How? “I thought he was MIA.”

His mother hung her head. “He was. And then a little while ago, he friended me on Facebook.”

“That’s why you got so upset at that family dinner. All that talk about Facebook and old flames.” He shook his head in disbelief. “What did he want?” Mike asked through clenched teeth.

“He was curious about you,” she whispered.

Pain lodged in his chest. “Too little, too late,” Mike muttered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t! Imagine how Simon would feel if he knew Rex was asking about his family. Especially while he’s in treatment.”

“What about me? What’s your excuse for keeping me in the dark?” he asked through the red haze of anger, hurt, and frustration that clouded his thoughts and his vision.

“This. Your anger at him. Your ambivalence about yourself. You’re so afraid you’re like him—I know you personalized that mess with Tiffany, though heaven knows that girl was a clinging vine. But now you’re home and you’re here…I didn’t want to jeopardize your peace of mind.” She closed her eyes, weariness and strain evident in her face and how she’d hunched her shoulders.

He reached out and pulled her close. “You should have told me,” he said, unable to stay furious at his mother.

“I know. Even Cara said so, but I didn’t listen.”

Mike froze. “Cara knows?”

His mother moaned. “Oh God. I’m sorry. That same night, we were talking about her parents, and I said I understood what it was like to doubt your choices. I didn’t plan on telling her, but I guess I needed someone to talk to because before I knew it, I had. And she said you should know, and I made her swear not to tell you.”

“Okay,” he said, to appease his mother.

Cara knew. He thought she understood him. Thought he could trust her in a way he’d trusted no other woman. Yet she’d sat with him at the judge’s house, listened to him say he needed to find the father he hated, and she’d known his mother was in touch with the man. And still she’d said nothing.

“Michael Marsden, don’t you dare be mad at Cara,” his mother said, shaking his shoulders. “I put her in an awful position.”

“Maybe.” But he was sleeping with the woman, revealing himself to her on all sorts of levels. She should have told him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told his mother.

“You aren’t upset with her?”

“I’m seeing her for dinner tonight,” he said, evading the question.

“That’s not an answer.” His mother’s voice was stronger now. She’d composed herself and was back to her forceful self.

“It’s all I have at the moment.” He rose to his feet. “Where can I find him?” he asked of Rex.

She swallowed. “He’s in Nevada.”

“Vegas?” Mike asked.

His mother nodded.

“Figures,” Mike muttered.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, wringing her hands as she spoke.

He met his mother’s gaze and answered honestly. “I have no f*cking idea.”

She blanched at his language, but she didn’t correct him, obviously knowing he deserved the outburst.

“I have to go.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Tell Dad I said hi.”

“Mike, please. Calm down and let’s talk again before you do anything.”

He wasn’t making any promises. “I love you,” he said, before walking out the door and into the cold sunshine and bright light of day.

He was numb. Angry. Hurt. Pissed. And he had to work it all out before he picked up Cara tonight and took her out with old friends. Or the night he’d been looking forward to was going to end up being a nightmare instead.

Cara was more excited about dinner than she let herself admit. But before she could focus, she needed to do some grocery shopping because her fridge was empty. She pushed a cart up and down the aisle in the Food Mart, following the list she’d made. She often cooked on Sunday, freezing some meals for the week, so she stocked up on both basics and snack foods.

As she turned into the last aisle, she paused the cart by the milk, looked up, and saw her mother standing with a small basket in her hand, studying the orange juice.

“Mom!” Cara said, before she could think through that she’d been avoiding her.

Natalie Hartley glanced up. “Cara!” She strode over and hugged Cara, her pleasure in seeing her daughter obvious.

Despite Cara’s frustrations with how her mother chose to live her life, Cara adored her and missed her like crazy. She tried hard not to let herself think too hard about how much—or she ended up sad and melancholy. The holidays were especially hard. Cara often ended up at the Marsdens’ or with Alexa and her dad, instead of being with her own parents.

“How are you?” Cara asked, inhaling the floral, fragrant scent she associated with the better parts of her childhood.

“Fine.” Her mother’s gaze darted to the left and right before focusing on Cara. “What about you? Are you well? Happy?”

Cara swallowed the painful lump in her throat. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

Her mother couldn’t even go to the grocery store by herself. She was surprised he’d left her alone in an aisle. “He went to pick up soda we forgot. Talk to me quick, before he comes back. Are you well, honey?”

Cara nodded. “I’m good.”

“My baby, a police officer. I’m so proud,” her mother said, tucking Cara’s hair behind one ear.

She blushed. “Mom.” Cara shook her head. “I—”

“Nat, let’s go now!” Cara’s father’s voice interrupted her midsentence.

She’d been about to tell her mother she missed her.

“I have to go.” Natalie’s shoulders had slumped, and she didn’t look Cara in the eye. “I love you.”

“Tell him one minute. We’re just talking.” Cara heard the plea in her voice.

“Baby, move it. It’s time to make lunch,” her father ordered.

Cara looked over at Greg Hartley. Still handsome; his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back off his face, his eyes burned with anger as he looked between Cara and her mother, who’d already taken a step away from her daughter.

It wasn’t difficult not to say hello to her father.

And he deliberately ignored her. He hated that she’d become a cop. He hated it even more that she refused to acknowledge him as her parent, denying him the respect and control over her he craved.

“Nat, now.” Her mother jumped at the low bellow.

She turned her back on Cara and walked away, head down, as she curled into herself.

Cara hated him. She hated how her mother gave in to whatever he wanted without care to her own needs. If cutting herself off from her parents was the only way to avoid seeing this painful sight, she’d continue to do it. No matter how big a hole her mother’s absence left in her chest or how much the fear for her safety ate away at her. Her mother had made it clear she didn’t want Cara’s help. There was nothing else she could do.

Except help those who wanted it, Cara thought. Stuffing the pain down where it belonged, Cara finished up her shopping, took the groceries home, and did cleaning around the house.

On Friday, she’d spent more time at the shelter than she’d planned because Daniella was obviously depressed after discovering that she’d need continuing education courses to update her paralegal license. The timing would take a while for her to get up to speed and capable of being rehired. That meant more time at Havensbridge, and the young woman was lonely, talking about alternatives like going home. As in back to her ex. Cara was nervous and spoke at length to Belinda about keeping Daniella busy and talking, to prevent her from leaving.

Though Cara could relate to many of the women who came and went from the shelter, Daniella and her sad blue eyes reminded Cara of her mother’s. The run-in was still fresh, causing her to miss her mom even more.

By the time Saturday afternoon came, she’d managed to shake off the depression and allow her excitement about her date with Mike to come through. She spent the morning at Consign and Design in town and bought a new April Mancini original skirt at a very reasonable price. The leopard print was gorgeous and the short length showed off her legs, which were normally hidden under a uniform or blue jeans; she added her favorite black patent boots, along with a silk black camisole and a cream-colored blazer.

One last look in the mirror and she was ready to go. Ready to see Mike.

The doorbell rang and, with a last bout of nerves in her stomach, she headed for the door and let him in.

“Hi.” She greeted him with warmth, stepping back to admire the view.

Wearing dark denim jeans and a black button-down shirt and not a speck of razor stubble, he was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. He smelled delicious too.

“Hey.” He didn’t crack a smile as he stepped inside. His expression looked dark and forbidding, and a sudden chill skittered over her skin. One that had nothing to do with the brief blast of cold air from outside.

“Ready?” he asked.

“I just have to get my purse and jacket.”

He shoved his hands into his front pockets and waited without making small talk and without looking at her at all.

She swallowed hard. His greeting was nothing like she’d expected. Okay, so he wasn’t admiring the view as she’d done with him. She told herself that was fine, even as disappointment welled inside her.

But his closed expression put her off and unnerved her even more. He looked nothing like the man who’d dropped her off yesterday afternoon with a blistering kiss and a promise to stay the night.

“Umm…is everything okay?” she asked as she picked up her small bag from the couch.

“Any reason it wouldn’t be?” he asked in an ice-cold voice.

Her discomfort turned to alarm. “You tell me.”

He glanced at his watch. “We’re going to be late,” he said, without answering her question.

“And I don’t give a damn.” Cara wasn’t going anywhere with Mike in this mood. She tossed her bag back onto the sofa. “Talk.”

He turned to face her, his eyes and expression glacial. “I went to see my mother today.”

Uh-oh. “What did she say?”

Disappointment flashed across his handsome face. “Are you really going to play this game? You know exactly what she said. That she’s been in touch with my father on Facebook and you knew.” He spat the words like an accusation.

Cara’s stomach twisted in tight knots, but she straightened her shoulders, standing by what she had—or hadn’t—done. “It wasn’t my place to tell you.” She’d felt angst about it, felt guilty, but in the end, there was only one choice she could make, and she remained silent.

He shook his head back and forth slowly. “I talked to you about my father. I don’t talk to anyone about him, including my family.” His eyes blazed with anger and betrayal, causing her heart to pound harder in her chest.

“I know.” And Cara had valued every ounce of information he’d given her, no matter how small. “And I appreciate that you let me in.” She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder, but he stepped out of reach.

She did her best not to shiver at the rejection. “I begged your mother to tell you, but she didn’t want to upset you. She insisted, and I gave my word.”

“That’s it?” He glared at her, not giving an inch. “You saw me after the judge’s house. You knew how conflicted I was. And all you can say is you gave your word?”

She nodded, pulling her walls back up because she wasn’t getting through to him. “My word is everything. It’s what defines me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That cut-and-dried?” he asked.

“You’re damned right. Want to know why? Because I know what it means not to keep it.”

He narrowed his gaze.

Cara went on. “Every time my father swore he wouldn’t touch my mother again, he gave his word. He promised over and over he wouldn’t hit her again. He wouldn’t belittle her. Demean her.” Cara’s thoughts went back to the scene at the grocery store the other day. “Order her around, demand she walk away from her own daughter at his command.” Cara’s voice caught, but she forced herself to go on. “He makes her feel like she’s nothing. And every time he promised not to do it again, he did. He broke his word. And each time was worse than the last.”

She felt rather than saw his shock. The atmosphere changed between them, chill turning to warmth, but Cara didn’t want Mike softening toward her because of pity. He needed to understand why she’d keep a promise no matter what.

“I learned early on, the only thing that matters is whether a person can keep their word. That’s what defines who I am as a human being. That’s what makes me different from him.” Her voice cracked, but she wasn’t going to fall apart on him. “So no, I didn’t tell you what I knew because I promised your mother I wouldn’t.”

This time he came to her, his body heat bracketing her where she stood. “Cara.”

She shook her head, unable to believe that the night she’d looked forward to had gone so far off course. Yet she didn’t blame him for being hurt or angry with her.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice gruff and a lot warmer than when he’d walked in.

She wasn’t ready, but he turned her to face him. “I, of all people, know what it’s like to not want to be like my father. I was pissed at everything, and I overreacted. Took it out on you because I couldn’t have it out with Rex.” His half-grin disarmed her own anger and hurt.

She sighed. “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t.”

“I get that now.”

And Mike did. Talk about blindsided. All his righteous anger dissolved in the face of her admission. This woman had the ability to twist him in knots, making him feel things completely foreign to him. They had more in common than he realized, wanting not just distance from a parent they despised but proof they were nothing like them.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Should we go?” he asked, eager to put the discussion behind them. No good could come of talking about it anymore.

She eyed him warily. “That’s it?”

“Do I look like the type to hold a grudge?”

She burst out laughing. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, you do.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing the tension had broken. “Let’s go, okay?”

She inclined her head. “Okay.” She seemed happy to let it go too and reached for her bag.

With his anger gone, he exhaled long and hard, finally getting a real look at the enticing female he’d picked up for a date. Her long, dark hair, normally pulled back in a ponytail, fell over her shoulders; bangs skimmed her forehead; and she’d put on more makeup than he was used to seeing on her. The effect, combined with the sexy outfit she’d chosen, blew his mind.

This wasn’t Cara the cop. It wasn’t Cara who filled out a pair of jeans and looked damned good in a worn T-shirt. This was a sexy siren who’d dressed with him in mind, and he’d shown up here blasting her for hiding things from him instead of admiring her.

“I’m an ass.”

“You said it, not me.” Her lips twitched in amusement.

“I’m sure you thought it,” he muttered. “You look beautiful.”

She blinked, obviously startled, before smiling widely. “Thank you.”

“It’s what I should have said from the beginning. Can we start over?” he asked, extending his arm for her to take.

He knew they’d have to discuss the case sooner or later, just as he’d have to decide what to do about looking up his old man. But those weren’t things he needed to dwell on now.

She nodded slowly and licked her glossed lips. “I’d like that.”

That easily, they were back to normal, leaving Mike to marvel yet again how different Cara was from other women he’d been with who chose arguments for the sake of arguing. Tiffany especially had liked tantrums in order to get something she wanted out of him. No woman he’d known had just simply stated her feelings instead of keeping them inside until they boiled over. Cara made it a habit. There was no guessing where he stood with her, and he liked it.

Twenty minutes later, they’d pulled into the driveway at the house on the hill. Cara, eyes wide, marveled at the twinkling lights coming from on high and the large mansion rising in front of them.

“It’s a town landmark, but I never get used to seeing it,” she said in awe.

He knew what she meant. He and Cara came from working-class families, and though Mike grew up in a nice house in a decent neighborhood, their four-bedroom home could probably fit in the pool behind the mansion.

“It is something,” he agreed.

They parked and walked to the door, and Mike rang the bell. A few seconds later, the door swung wide and a teenage girl stood before them.

“Hey, Tess,” Cara said to the girl.

“Ooh, you got yourself a hot one,” the teenager said, glancing at Mike.

“I most certainly do.” Cara winked at her, shocking Mike completely.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

“Mike, this is Ethan, Dare and Nash’s smart-mouthed sister, Tess. Tess, Mike Marsden. The police chief,” Cara said, emphasizing his job description.

“Oh. Shit.” This time Tess grew silent, and Cara burst out laughing.

“Are you going to invite us in or let us freeze to death out here?” Cara asked.

“Come on in,” the teenager said grudgingly.

“Gee, thanks.” Cara’s light laughter washed over him.

Tess stepped back, and Mike noticed she was wearing a fitted top over jeans, her clothes too tight to be comfortable, but a typical teenager outfit from what he’d seen around town.

“Tess, did you get the door?” Ethan asked, the sound of his footsteps coming closer.

“Duh,” she muttered.

Ethan met them in the foyer with a smile, but he glanced at his sister and asked, “What’s with the attitude?”

“You said company, not the chief of police,” Tess hissed at him, her cheeks pink.

“I’m not here on official business,” Mike said, hoping to put her at ease.

Ethan laughed. “I should hope not. She’s been off probation for a while now.”

“What?” Mike asked, sure his friend was kidding.

“A long story for another time,” Ethan said.

Tess looked at him, narrowing her eyes. “I can’t believe you!” With a solid foot stamp, she took off, heading back upstairs.

“Bye, Tess,” Cara called out.

“Bye,” the teen yelled back.

“What was that all about?” Mike asked.

Ethan shook his head and laughed. “That was Tornado Tess. Come on into the den and I’ll tell you all about it.” He gestured for them to follow him into a large room with a bar in one corner and a big-screen television in another. “Faith is upstairs with the baby. She’ll be down soon.”

“Ooh, can I go on up and take a peek?” Cara asked.

Ethan grinned like a proud father. “Sure. Just follow the smells,” he said, making Mike wonder how the hard guy he’d known in high school had gone from rebel to parent with seeming ease.

Mike shuddered.

Cara laughed and headed out the door. He watched her walk out, her tight behind swaying in that little skirt and short jacket.

“Damn, you have it bad,” Ethan said.

Mike raised an eyebrow. What could he say? He’d been caught.

“So what’s it like being a father?” He changed the subject.

Ethan grinned. “I wasn’t ready for it either.”

“Hell, you’re old enough to know if you’re potentially getting your wife pregnant.”

Mike shook his head at his friend, and Ethan burst out laughing. “I was talking about love, not kids.”

“Who the hell said anything about love? We’re just having fun.”

Ethan walked to the bar. “At least you didn’t say it was just sex. Scotch?” he asked.

Mike nodded. “Thanks.” He already knew it wasn’t just anything. Not that he’d get into that with Ethan.

“It’s amazing being a father.” Ethan poured two glasses of alcohol and handed one to Mike.

The man switched subjects like a pro. “Are you talking about Tess or baby diapers?” Mike asked, joking.

“Both.” Ethan met his gaze, his expression as serious as Mike had ever seen it. “I thought I’d grown up when I moved back here, and I had, but Tess, she turned me into the man I wanted to be. Faith did the rest. Then she gave me our daughter.” Ethan raised his glass. “To women,” he said, the foolish grin of a man in love on his face.

Mike wasn’t that far gone, but he had to admit Cara had him in an unfamiliar place that had him reeling. Mike raised his glass and took a large gulp, needing it to feel more centered.

“Want to see my princess?” Ethan asked with pride.

“What’s her name?” Mike asked.

“Allie. After my mother, Alicia.”

Mike nodded, understanding the sentiment. He followed Ethan out of the den and up the long circular stairs.

Soft female voices sounded from a room at the end of the hall, where a light glow illuminated the darkened hallway. Music played from another room, the heavy rock telling him where Tess, the teenager, had gone.

Mike paused outside the baby’s room and, with Ethan, looked inside. To his shock, Cara, not Faith, held the tiny bundle in her arms. Before he could process the warmth spreading through him, Cara leaned in and pressed her nose to the baby’s head. “I love the smell of baby,” she whispered.

“It’s the Johnson’s Baby Shampoo. Makes you want to eat them up,” Faith agreed.

“She’s so precious,” Cara said in awe. “I was afraid I’d break her.”

Faith waved a hand dismissively. “From the way you changed that diaper, you’re a natural. All ready for when you have one of your own.”

Ethan stood beside him, the silence charged. Mike felt as uncomfortable listening to the women’s dialogue as he did having his old friend undoubtedly put his own spin on what he thought Mike was feeling. Hell, he barely knew himself.

“I don’t know if that’ll ever happen,” Cara said, surprising him. “I’d need to believe that relationships can last and that there’s someone out there who I’d trust with my whole heart not to hurt me.”

The way her mother had been hurt. Mike heard the unspoken end to her sentence, her quiet words and painful thoughts a sucker punch to his gut.

She didn’t think she believed, but she so obviously yearned for what Faith had—and Cara deserved that kind of love and devotion. He wasn’t the guy to give it to her, and for the first time in his life, Mike was disappointed that he couldn’t be what a woman needed.

Not a woman.

This one.

No hearts involved, wasn’t that what he’d told her? If that were true, then why did his chest ache so badly now?

Ethan cleared his throat, and the women glanced up. “Hi!” Faith said. “Come on in.”

The quiet spell that enveloped Mike broken, he followed Ethan into the room, but Mike knew this night would stay with him for a long, long while.

After they put the baby to bed, Faith and Ethan said good night to Tess and checked in with the housekeeper, Rosalita, who would be babysitting for the evening. They had dinner in a neighboring town at a steak restaurant, where they were seated in a small booth.

With Cara next to him, she invaded his personal space. Cara’s scent, a new warm, musky fragrance, cocooned him in a sexual haze. It was a miracle he’d been able to focus on conversation with the hard-on he had beneath the table. Faith and Ethan seemed happy to be out for grown-up time, so they ordered a bottle of wine and lingered over drinks, dinner, and dessert.

By the time they headed back to Cara’s, Mike realized he’d had a genuinely good time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone on a regular date with another couple and was even more shocked to discover that not only had he liked it, he wasn’t itching to get back to New York or his solitary life.

All he could focus on was getting Cara into bed and keeping her there.