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  When the shortstop singled on a line drive to center field, allowing the first run of the game, they were cheering, exchanging high-fives, and dancing in the stands.

  By the seventh-inning stretch, which should have been Nat's and Luke's moment to shine as they belted "Deep in the Heart of Texas" along with the crowd under the retractable-roof stadium, she was instead realizing their mistake. Luke and Leticia were a couple, a real one. They were falling into pheromones and delighted to take the plunge. And in the way of the newly coupled-up, they expected the same of those around them. Luke kept his arm across Leticia's shoulders the whole game, and when it came time for the four quick claps in between 'the stars at night, shine big and bright' and 'deep in the heart of Texas,' he had wrapped his long arms around her from behind and held her wrists so he could show her the rhythm. And also, Nat was sure, so he could get even more of his body touching her body.

  Even without the lovebirds as contrast, Nat and Evan were stilted. His singing voice was less tuneful than his bell-chime laugh had led her to believe, but he didn't attempt to match the verve of the crowd, or even to tease them for their over-the-top Texan pride. She clapped in all the right places, and wasn't above loudly proving she knew the lyrics to the later verses, about sagebrush and coyotes, but her showing off was directed to the outfield, not the guy standing next to her.

  The thing was, they'd never told Luke or Leticia about their arrangement. It wasn't really their business, of course, but Nat had somehow thought Evan would have told Luke. And she didn't care about the party. In no way did their arrangement mean she had to go to work parties with him; if they were going to faux-double-date, they needed to communicate better. Either let the others know they were just friends, or let each other know about potential expectations. Like that she would be his date to a work party. What if she had plans for the holiday weekend? People often did. Gillian, for example, was heading to Colorado for a short hiking trip. It wasn't Nat's idea of fun, but she'd been invited. Well, she'd been jokingly invited, because Gill knew the odds of Nat hiking were slimmer than the legs of the gym rat whose collection of neon running shorts and sports bras never failed to amaze them.

  At the bottom of the eighth, they could see the Astros loss coming. Natalie shifted in her seat, glancing over at Evan. "If I head out soon, I'll miss all that traffic on Lamar." The post-game exodus could be a real problem. She wasn't just making it up.

  He made no move to shift his legs so she could edge past him to the aisle. Slowly, he reached his index finger to her bare shoulder, then traced it down along her inner arm to her elbow. She shivered.

  "What about the post-game fireworks?" he asked, low and calm, like he was just curious. Like he wasn't also burning with awareness.

  She set her jaw. "I'm not all that crazy about fireworks."

  "I am."

  Patting his leg dismissively, she found it hard to drag her hand back to her own airspace. "You stay and watch. I'll catch you later."

  He took care of returning her hand to his thigh, anchoring it there despite her feeble attempts to tug it away. "Nope. If you're ready to go, I'll walk you to your car."

  "That's not necessary. There are plenty of security patrols."

  "I'm not doing it for your safety." His mouth was closer to her ear than where it had started the inning. His breath warm on her neck. "I'm doing it so I can touch more of you. I caught a flash of your bra before. I like that pink color."

  "It's blush." Why she was correcting him when it was none of his business, she didn't know.

  "And I want to tell you about the party thing. I should have mentioned it earlier."

  She shrugged. The movement send her shoulder rubbing, just a stroke then away, along his hovering chin. "I told you, I'm not crazy about fireworks."

  "Right." His brief kiss to her upper arm would have sent her to the further edge of her seat, but it would be rude to bump into Luke when he was so busy cuddling with Leticia.

  "I'm not."

  "It's not about the fireworks, Natalie. It's a business function. A fancy one, sure--it's up on the top floor viewing deck--but it's just networking. And you're welcome to come along, if you want. Thing is, my folks are coming in for the long weekend. So they'll be at the party, too."

  Evan's gaze tracked across her face, focused despite the double play that had fans groaning around them.

  "Koray and Marisa?" As if he had other parents. "They didn't say anything."

  "You're talking to my parents?"

  She shook her head. "Emailing."

  "What are you emailing my parents about?"

  "We're friends, Evan. Relax. I haven't...you know. Told them anything."

  "I know. It's not that. I'm surprised they didn't mention it."

  They'd been forwarding news about Drew and Leo from their Turkey trip. They'd been the first couple in their city to register for a marriage license that morning. Their wedding photo--the two of them in matching Hawaiian shirts, wearing leis and giant smiles, the judge wearing a rainbow lei with a rival smile in the background--was the featured image on their paper's website, and Marisa was gathering anecdotes from the trip to compile in a congratulatory card.

  She reassured Evan that their arrangement was still underground. He nodded. She wasn't crazy about how relieved he looked.

  "Hey, I know." He was upbeat again. "I'll just tell them I knew they'd want to see you again, and that's why I invited you."

  "Perfect."

  "It makes sense, right? That way you and Leticia can wear your halter tops, and I can introduce you to Lionel Harbison like I've been meaning to, and my mom and dad won't have any idea there's anything but friendly networking happening between us."

  "Total sense. It's a good plan." She meant it. Intellectually, she was a hundred percent on board. And she was pleased he'd remembered about introducing her to the mortgage services man, so she could pick his brain about the HUD agencies she'd been looking into. So, he was right. It was a good plan. "I'm not wearing a halter top."

  He was back to combining speaking with spreading warm breath across the pulse point in her neck. "Are you sure? It sounds patriotic. And hot. It sounds patriotic and hot."

  Some kids behind first base started the wave going around the stadium, and it was a relief to join in, to stand away from him and get a grip on herself. She would be taking him home for fireworks later, but until then she needed a respite from all the little ways he was exploding her control.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The doorbell rang downstairs, and Natalie, startled, broke the kiss.

  "Ignore it," Evan said, trying to drag her mouth back to his. He was making a great case for vigorous morning sex instead of her planned trip to the gym. The parts of her willing to be convinced--toes, hips, the arch of her spine--wanted to do as he said. The rest of her found the willpower to plant her hands on his shoulders and lever herself away from him.

  "You remember what I said about my mom?"

  Except for his cock, he stilled. His cock was still pulsing persuasively a half inch from her clit.

  In the silence, they heard the door open and Elaine call, "Natalie?"

  She scrambled to the bedroom door, half-closing it and leaning into the opening to answer, "I'll be down in a minute. I'm just getting dressed."

  "Do I really have to do the trellis thing?" he whispered, sinking below the covers.

  She rummaged in her workout clothes drawer, not overjoyed at him watching her contort her flesh into the sports bra, but she had to get downstairs before her mom decided to barge in. "No, idiot. Just stay up here. Don't flush or turn on the shower or whatever. Your car's not in the driveway, is it?"

  He shook his head. "I like the outfit."

  "Shut up."

  "It's like you're a superhero. Is that spandex? All the hot superheroes wear black spandex."

  "There's spandex in it. Be quiet."

  "You're not wearing underwear. You've got black spandex all wrapped tight right against your skin. I
don't think I can be quiet, not with this visual. I think I'm going to explode. A lot. Loudly."

  She pulled a wicking tee over her head and shot him a warning look before shutting the door behind her. She hadn't brushed her hair. She hadn't put on makeup. If Elaine found out about the man in her bed, she'd be horrified.

  "Mom, hi."

  Elaine was in the kitchen, rearranging her freezer. "I made lentil stew, and some of those sweet potato and black bean empanadas you like. There's turkey chili here from last time. What kind of junk have you been eating?"

  Pulling out a tote bag of plastic containers, washed and ready to return, she said, "I do cook for myself, you know. And I go out. You don't have to keep doing this."

  Ever since the breakup with Chris, her mom had resumed the stocking of her freezer that had marked her post-college days. She understood that it was a way of showing love, but it also showed a certain amount of doubt about her daughter's competence. Natalie had actually celebrated with Chris the first time they'd completely emptied her house of leftovers, sometime towards the end of their first year together. It had been a clear indication that Elaine felt secure about Chris’ ability to take care of her. Because Elaine didn't believe any woman alone would ever be secure. These days, she showed up unannounced every week or two with bags of provisions, pretending that she'd just happened to cook more than she herself needed.

  "It's no problem. We don't want all these healthy leftovers to go to waste. Or for you to make bad food choices that will go to your waist." She laughed lightly, like it was the first time she'd said it.

  Tensing up all her muscles did fun things to her pelvic floor, which was a strange sensation to have with her mother inadvertently letting the freezer air cool the sex flush she'd carried downstairs. "My waist is my business, Mom."

  Elaine turned from the game of Tupperware Tetris she was playing to eye Natalie's body. She resisted the urge to tug her shirt lower over her yoga pants. "You want to be vigilant, sweetie. Now that you're in your thirties, the fat cells aren't as elastic anymore. You'll find it harder and harder to keep your figure with each passing month."

  "I've only been thirty for a few months." She said it low enough for her mom to pretend not to hear it, despite standing right next to her. She thought about starting the coffeemaker, but didn't want to provide an opening for Elaine to sit for a chat. She had a naked man in her bed. And the perverse resolution to skip the gym. And eat butter for breakfast. Fried butter.

  "Thank you for the food, Mom. Let me put the lentil stew in the fridge, I'll have that tonight. Listen, I was just heading out. Gillian took this new weights class last week, and said I have to try it. I don't want to get there late and get stuck in the back of the room."

  "You won't work as hard if you're in the back of the room. You need to be up front so you know everyone can see you if your form drops."

  "I know. That's what I just said. And I haven't even put my hair up yet. So I'm going to push you out the door, I'm afraid. Don't forget these," she handed over the bag of empty containers with a kiss. "Thanks for the meals. Stop bringing them. I like cooking for myself."

  "You don't even have fresh greens in your crisper. I'll pick some up for you at the farmers' market next time."

  "I don't make salads at home. I order them when I'm eating out, just so I never have to make a salad for one at home. And don't remind me about the hidden calories. I know about the hidden calories. No cheese. No bread. Light dressing on the side."

  "No nuts."

  "You're nuts," Natalie said, and hugged Elaine. It wasn't entirely so she could edge her over the threshold as she released her. That was a side benefit. "Love you."

  "Love you, too, sweetie. Don't forget to do cardio."

  Nat shut the door.

  Evan could lie to himself about the eavesdropping being accidental, but a side-effect of being the baby of the family was that he'd developed spying skills to help him understand all the things people pointedly wouldn't discuss around him. He'd heard about Danny's friend who started selling pot, and Alice's fluid sexual identity, and the trip his parents wanted to take, if only they could figure out what to do about leaving behind a house full of teenagers and one elementary-age kid. Ben's wife, Tara, once suggested when they were all ragging on him for his childhood sneakiness, that those skills had directly translated to his ability to analyze markets and figure out how various subtle elements would impact financial outlooks.

  He thought the world of Tara.

  He did not think the world of Elaine. Natalie had mentioned once or twice her hang-ups about being larger than her mother, and how she curated all those carefully edited photos of their trip--except the one of Nat and his dad at the shoe shop. But to hear the woman in so many words tell Natalie that her body wasn't good enough. To warn her adult daughter of the dangers of eating croutons.

  No, Evan didn't regret pulling on boxers and a shirt so he could linger at the top of her stairs and listen in on the conversation. He didn't even mind Natalie catching him sitting there. What pissed him off was that she'd been bounding up, as if eager to resume their activities, and when she saw him, she stopped short and tugged down the hem of her shirt. She moved as if to step around him, keeping her gorgeous spandex-clad ass turned away from him.

  "Hey," he reached up, palmed her thigh. Spread his knees so she could, if she wanted, check out how much touching her got him going.

  "So, like I was saying, I'm meeting Gillian at the gym."

  "I've been working on a new poem."

  She didn't straddle him and start exploring what fun things they could do with the help of the stair risers, but she did slide down to sit beside him. "Have you?" Her voice had deflated, all the sharpness punctured as he smoothed his hand down to her knee.

  "I have."

  His thumb circled her kneecap, and she was staring at it. She licked her lips. "Do I get to hear it?"

  Shaking his head, he said, "You're meeting Gillian."

  "Maybe you can tell me later?"

  He rotated on the landing, sliding his right leg around her until his ankle brushed her hip. "Probably I'll forget it later."

  Swallowing before speaking, she said, "That would be a real shame. Maybe you should write it down."

  "Maybe you should text Gillian that you're not going, and come back here with a condom. Maybe that'll jog my memory."

  "At least one of us will be jogging," she muttered, but the humor was back in her voice.

  He flexed his hand on her knee, sent his grip up the inside of her thigh. The spandex smooth under his fingers, the knowledge that her labia were protected from his view only by this thin barrier, the breasts she'd wrestled into that cling-tight top. "Text. Her. Now."

  "You'll have to stop touching me for that."

  "Fuck."

  "You'll have to keep touching me for that."

  He drank in her sultry laughing tone, and the fact she'd spread her legs. They faced each other, braced on opposite walls at the top of the staircase, and he flexed one fingertip, intense, her thigh muscles jumping in response.

  "There once," he said, deliberate and slow, "was a young man named Evan."

  Natalie's breathing, the visible rise and fall of her chest, hitched as he inched closer. He snaked his foot behind her ass and, anchored, slid his pelvis to hers. She reached over to remove his shirt, which meant his hand leaving her thigh. He took off her shirt, and there she was, all gold skin and skintight black.

  He traced the edges of her sports bra, her full breasts flushed and straining to escape. The fabric outlined her nipples. Before touching them, he said, "And Natalie's bod had him revvin'."

  Her abs shook, her chest bounced, she laughed. She was loose and light and slid into his arms as he used his leg to draw her close. Closer. Their legs tangled, she draped her right leg over his left, and he was forehead to forehead with her. Eyes on her olive green cat eyes. "Tell me the rest."

  "Cancel the gym."

  She glanced down the stairs
. Nope, he wasn't letting Elaine's dumbass comments get between them. "He adored...."

  "Adored what?" Now she was finding her playful side. Perfect.

  "Can't tell you."

  Her hands moved up his back, fingernails lightly scoring his nape, and she grabbed tight hold of his hair. "Adored what?"

  He sucked in her lower lip, scraped it with his upper teeth. Refused to verbalize the answer, though it had to be obvious. He hadn't stopped fondling her chest.

  "There once was a young man named Evan, and Natalie doesn't get to hear more until she cancels the gym."

  She planted her hands on his pecs and shoved. "You are a brat."

  "Tell me something I haven't heard my entire life."

  "I'm texting her. You don't move. And this had better be a damn good limerick."

  He leaned into the hallway to watch her stalk towards her bedroom door. "I like the rear view, too. Can we make a deal about you wearing spandex more often?"

  "A very damn good limerick."

  "Don't forget the condom."

  He stood her on the landing and moved down a couple of steps, so he was face-to-boob. He drew his palms from her shoulders to her wrists, then planted her hands on the walls. Without thinking much about it, she spread her legs wide. She was beginning to feel superheroic, like her powers were megalust and x-rated vision.

  "You probably don't want me to grab a camera right now. But so you know, I am memorizing this sight. You're hot as fuck."

  He sounded sincere. And his boxers weren't doing a good job containing his erection. "I'm waiting for my poem."

  "I'm waiting for my condom." He wasn't. He wasn't waiting at all. He was breathing light kisses across her clavicle, the upper swell of her breasts. Dipping his tongue in the deep groove between them, more obvious than usual thanks to the compressing powers of the damn sports bra.

  "I brought the condom."

  He looked from one empty hand to another, then at her. She liked this view, him standing below her, bare muscled chest and the landscape of his strong shoulders.