A girl could get used to this!

Bridget watched in awe as Darwin moved effortlessly from one saucepan to another. She closed her eyes and then pinched herself. If this wasn’t real, she needed to wake up before things between her and Darwin went any further.

When Bridget opened her eyes again, Darwin was there, still moving as though he’d always belonged right there in her kitchen and in her life. As he pulled a tablespoon of simmering sauce to his lips, blowing lightly over the hot substance, Bridget closed her eyes for a second time, imagining what it might be like to have those lips blowing warm breath against her skin….

Books by Deborah Fletcher Mello

Kimani Romance

In the Light of Love

Always Means Forever

Kimani Arabesque

Forever and a Day

The Right Side of Love

A Love for All Time

Take Me to Heart

DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO

is the author of seven romance novels. Her first novel, Take Me to Heart, earned her a 2004 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Best New Author. In 2005 she received Book of the Year and Favorite Heroine nominations for her novel The Right Side of Love.

For Deborah, writing is akin to breathing and she firmly believes that if she could not write she would cease to exist. Weaving a story that leaves her audience feeling full and complete, as if they’ve just enjoyed an incredible meal, is an ultimate thrill for her. Born and raised in Connecticut, she now calls Hillsborough, North Carolina, home, where she resides with her husband and son.

Always Means Forever

Deborah Fletcher Mello

www.millsandboon.co.uk

In memory of my son,

Allan Miquel Mello, Jr.,

Mere words cannot begin to express how much you are missed.

Your spirit continues to move and inspire me,

And you will always be remembered with much love

Dear Reader,

This has been a roller-coaster ride filled with exceptional highs. I can’t begin to tell you how much I love doing what I do. I know that this journey has been an incredible blessing and only possible because of a truly powerful and loving God.

I am extremely grateful to each and every one of you who has supported my writing by buying a book, borrowing a book, or sharing a book. Thank you for the kind words, the heartfelt expressions of love and those accolades for my many characters. As you have cheered each of them on, so have you cheered me on, as well. I can’t begin to tell you how you all have nurtured my spirit.

I’d love to know what you think of Bridget and Darwin’s story, so I hope you’ll send me your comments at www.deborahmello.com or www.deborahmello.blogspot.com. Until the next time, take care and God bless.

With much love,

Deborah Fletcher Mello

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 1

Bridget Hinton knew she had to be dreaming. Things like this never happened to her in real life, so the moment—and the man who stood above her—had to be a dream. It was such an erotic dream that she hoped she would never wake from it, or at least not until he, whoever he was, was finished doing what he was doing.

And what he was doing was massaging a slow, heated path up and down the length of her body. His long, firm, very experienced fingers were stroking every muscle until she was a weak puddle of female mush. He was triggering a reaction in every part of her to a point of no return. Teasing the curves of her breasts, he gently brushed the back of his hand against the lush tissue and her nipples blossomed full and hard. Her chest began to rise and fall faster than normal as she gasped for air. Bridget felt as if her flesh was straining for release against a satin nightgown that suddenly seemed to melt away from her body at will.

Sunlight shimmered above her, radiating from a clear, bright blue sky. She could hear the ripple of water coming from someplace close, and a warm breeze scented the air with the aroma of honeysuckle and tea roses. She took a deep inhale of fresh air and held her breath. She struggled to focus on the man who had her writhing in ecstasy, wanting to see his face. For a split second, the very handsome man bore a striking resemblance to majestic Laurence Fishburne in the movie Othello. A minute later he looked like a very sexy Djimon Hounsou, then the actor Dennis Haysbert. Bridget could feel herself smiling in her sleep. This was surely too good to be true!

Laurence-Djimon-Dennis was now naked, a solid six-foot-four-inch tower of rippling, Hershey’s dark chocolate-toned muscle. His skin glistened with perspiration, light shimmering over the sinewy fibers. She examined every inch of him, her gaze caressing the broad wealth of his expansive chest, lingering on the firm, well-rounded globes of his behind that overfilled her small palms, and the thick length of male steel swaying blatantly between them.

He was palming both of her breasts beneath slightly rough hands, the contact against her skin moving her to moan. Her mouth parted just slightly as her tongue trailed slowly over the surface of her lips. As her dream lover eased himself above her, she could feel her body falling open, her legs parting eagerly. Her limbs felt light and buoyant, her body possessed as it moved in sync with his. The moment was suddenly electric, energy spinning her beyond her wildest dreams. And just as she could feel herself being consumed by the rise of heat, perspiration dancing against her skin, she woke up.

The clock radio on the nightstand beside her was buzzing harshly and Bridget was startled to find herself awake, and alone. It seemed as if it took forever for her mind to catch up with her body, the memories fading ever so slowly, and then she remembered that she was home, in her own bed, no man remotely close to making love to her.

A creeping dampness in her panties made her close her slim thighs tightly together. The dream had been too real, her body responding with a mind of its own. Turning to see what time it was, Bridget reached for the digital timepiece, depressing the alarm’s off button. She squinted through the darkness at the pale green numbers on the clock. It was still early, not yet two o’clock in the morning. It dawned on her that she had set her alarm incorrectly, not paying attention before she’d turned over and had gone to sleep. She still had at least five hours of rest coming to her, and with any luck she could still take advantage of them.

A full bladder was suddenly calling her name and as she moved to get out of bed, pain bristled down the length of her right leg. Bridget swore, clutching the limb between her palms as she was suddenly reminded that her day had started badly and had only gotten worse with each passing hour, the wealth of it peaking on her return home.

She had literally tripped through the door of her town house, falling face-first across the threshold as the heel of her Ferragamo pump had lost a battle with the new doormat she’d purchased on discount from the Macy’s department store in downtown Seattle. Pain had exploded from the center of her bruised kneecap, triggering a trail of hurt down the length of the limb, up her thigh and into her hip. Profanity had spilled over her lips as she’d cursed loudly, not caring that her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Eloise Gibson, had been watching from her own entranceway.

As she’d lain sprawled facedown against the foyer’s tiled floor, Bridget couldn’t help but think that her falling was an apropos ending for what had been a hellish day. Tears had burned hot against the back of her eyelids as she’d kicked off the overpriced shoes and pulled herself up and onto her feet. The old woman was still staring, her gray head and a wrinkled appendage waving for Bridget’s attention.

“Are you okay, dear?” she’d asked.

Bridget had forced a smile on her face and had nodded her head. “Yes, ma’am. I’m fine, thank you. Just clumsy is all.”

“Are you sure now? I can call somebody if you need me to.”

“That’s not necessary, Mrs. Gibson.”

“Well, if you say so…”

“Thanks for everything, Mrs. Gibson. You have a nice evening,” Bridget chimed as she’d moved too quickly to close her front door. As she’d secured the lock, she’d heaved a deep sigh and had cussed again. Reaching for her purse, she’d picked up the contents that had scattered across the floor and dropped them all onto the wooden bench that decorated the entranceway.

Wanting to cry, she’d let the first wave of hot tears flow over her cheeks, her palm rubbing gingerly against her bruised leg. Before the tears could flood into a full sob the telephone on the end table at her side rang, pulling at her attention.

Bridget had shaken her head as she’d pulled the receiver into her hand, noting the familiar number on the caller ID. “Hello?”

“You have some mail, dear!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Gibson.”

“Just wanted you to know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As she hung up the telephone, Bridget heaved another deep sigh. She had grown weary of the old woman’s timely reminders ages ago but had kept her annoyance to herself because Mrs. Gibson was better than any alarm system would ever be. Her watchful eye monitored all the comings and goings that occurred between her door and the entrances of the other occupants who resided in the small complex. And, for the most part, she was actually very sweet when she wanted to be.

Making her way to the rear of her home, Bridget had moved into the kitchen, searching her freezer for an ice pack to hold off the swelling. She had to be in court early the next morning and she didn’t need a bum leg slowing her down. The telephone ringing for a second time served to further distract her.

“Hello?”

“Bridget, turn on your television!” a voice had screamed from the other end.

“What? Jeneva? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me. Turn on your television. Channel 76. Hurry!”

Bridget had reached for the remote and turned on the small, seven-inch monitor that was positioned beneath her oak cabinets. Her best friend’s excitement filled her ears.

“Isn’t he adorable! Look how cute he is! Hold on. I have to call Roshawn.”

Jeneva’s brother-in-law, Darwin Tolliver, beamed at Bridget from the television screen, the good-looking man promoting his new cooking show on the Homes and Food Network. He had been cute. Too cute, and Bridget had only been reminded that yet another man she’d been interested in hadn’t been interested in her.

Jeneva came back on the line. “Roshawn’s not home. I’ll have to call her later. So, what’s up with you?” she’d asked cheerily.

Bridget took a seat at the kitchen counter. “I lost my job.”

“What?” Jeneva’s voice was brimming with surprise. “What happened?”

“The partners are merging with another firm. It seems the new partners already have one intelligent, skilled, black female attorney on the roster and they don’t feel they have a need for a second.”

“Oh, sweetie! I’m so sorry,” her best friend hummed into the receiver.

Bridget nodded. “They’ll be transitioning our case-loads over and closing the doors in the next two to six weeks. I will actually be closing out my cases in the next few days so there’s really little left for me to do. Then I’ll officially be unemployed.”

“That stinks. So, what do you plan to do?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

The two had talked for another hour and when she’d finally hung up the telephone, Bridget had been sufficiently depressed. As she’d sat there staring blankly at the television set, the station ran the commercial for a second time. When Darwin Tolliver crooned his slogan “Let me show you how it’s done!” a chill had shimmered down her spine, straight into the pit of her stomach. What she wouldn’t give to have Darwin Tolliver show her anything his heart desired, she’d thought, the words floating into the empty room as she spoke them out loud.

That had only been a few hours ago, and if the dream was any sign, she still had the effects of seeing Darwin on her brain. Her bladder was now screaming loudly and Bridget shook the clouds of memory from her head. She eased her body up onto her feet and limped into the bathroom. Just thinking about Darwin Tolliver again had made her stomach flutter. She’d had a crush on the man since forever. The two had met years ago when his twin brother, Mecan, and her friend Jeneva had fallen head over heels in love. Her infatuation for him had even caused a brief rift between her and her other best friend, Roshawn Bradsher, when she’d accused the woman’s playful flirtations with him of being something much more. The two of them had worked through their differences and Bridget had been happy for her girl when Roshawn had gone on to meet and marry the love of her life, famed baseball star Angel Rios. Bridget was now godmother to their two children, three-year-old Dario and infant Belinda.

Between distance, bad timing and other relationships she and Darwin had never managed to hook up, though, and now here she was, still alone, unemployed, dreaming about men who would probably never cross her path. As she slid back beneath the warmth of her covers, Bridget shook her head for the umpteenth time. Things surely didn’t look like they were going to get any better anytime soon, so she hoped her dream lover would still be hard, wanting, and waiting for her when she finally fell back to sleep.

Chapter 2

Darwin Tolliver couldn’t help but think that there was something missing, and maybe whatever was missing was the reason he was so out of sorts. He looked around the enclosed office, observing the contemporary decor the television studio had paid far too much money to have installed. If the truth were to be told, the room really didn’t give him any warm and fuzzy feelings to get excited about.

Everything from the walls to the carpet and half of the furniture was done in a striking shade of ice-blue. The other half of the furniture was either upholstered in black leather or painted in a high-gloss black lacquer. Polished chrome accents completed the sparse ensemble. The room was supposed to be cutting-edge stylish but as Darwin sat in the midst of it, studying every minute detail, he wished he could have told the interior designer they’d hired that it actually felt very cold and impersonal. He sighed, blowing a warm gust of breath past his full lips.

Reaching for the telephone, he dialed quickly then leaned back in the black leather executive’s chair to wait for the line to be answered.

His twin brother’s voice bellowed from the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey, Mecan. It’s me.”

“Yo, Darwin. What’s up? How’s the new gig?” Mecan Tolliver asked.

Darwin shrugged, his broad shoulders reaching up toward his earlobes. “Starting out well. The show premieres next week and the initial reactions to the promos have been great.”

“I saw the commercial for the first time last night. You looked good, boy! You should have heard Jeneva on the phone calling her girls to check out the channel.”

“Your wife is too sweet. Tell her I said hello and kiss my niece for me.”

“Will do. Alexa’s been mimicking you since she saw you on TV. ‘Let me show you how it’s done!’” the man said, imitating his child’s singsong voice. “It’s too cute!” Mecan laughed, the wealth of it brimming over with pride for his five-year-old daughter. “So, for real, how are you doing? You sound a little down.”

There was a brief pause and Darwin sat listening to the television set playing in the background on his brother’s end. They’d been like two peas in a pod since day one. Mecan was the older by only five minutes and he was Darwin’s best friend and closest confidant. Darwin wanted to tell his brother that something was making him feel as blue as the room he sat in, but he hadn’t a clue how to express to his sibling what it was or why. Instead he shook the emotion away and changed the subject.

“Nah. All’s well here. Just felt like checking in with you.”

Mecan Tolliver nodded, his sixth sense kicking in. He shook his head slowly, oblivious to the fact that his brother could not see him through the phone line. “Sounds like there’s more going on than you’re saying. Why don’t we make plans to have lunch tomorrow and you can tell me all about it. We haven’t spent any time together in a good while.”

“That sounds good,” Darwin responded, a hint of gratitude seeping into his tone. “I could use some advice. Why don’t you meet me at the Andaluca Restaurant.”

“Where’s that?”

“In the Mayflower Park Hotel down on Olive Way. A friend of mine is the chef there. I’d like to show him some love.”

Mecan smiled into the receiver. “Why does that sound like you’re checking up on your competition?”

Darwin chuckled. “Hey, my boy Wayne’s one of the best chefs out here. There’s no harm in checking out what he’s up to.”

His brother laughed with him. “If you say so. I’ll see you tomorrow at one o’clock. Love you, bro.”

“Right back at ’cha.”

As the line went dead in his ear, Darwin suddenly felt even more out of sorts than he’d felt before he’d called. After hearing his brother’s voice and his excitement as he talked about his family, Darwin realized he was lonely. Labeling the emotion only served to further frustrate him. Perhaps some female companionship could change his mood, he thought, and hopefully help him move out of this stupor he seemed to have fallen into. Taking a quick glance at his wristwatch, he reached for his BlackBerry off the desktop, sorted through the address index for a telephone number, then pulled the phone receiver back into his hand as he dialed. Three rings later a female’s sultry voice answered the call.

“Hey, beautiful. It’s me. Got any plans for the night?”

There was something romantic about the atmosphere, Darwin mused as he took a seat in one of the gray upholstered booths in the Andaluca Restaurant. The room had an old-world feel to it with its rich fabrics, cherrywood accents and the exquisite contemporary designs that decorated the walls. He’d arrived a few minutes early, nudging his way past the blue-eyed hostess with the porcelain veneer smile to say hello to the chef. His friend had been guiding a staff of twelve almost effortlessly as they prepped for the lunch crowd.

As he waited for his brother to arrive he studied the menu, making mental notes about the food choices. The selections were very European, fairly simplistic, with generous offerings of grains, legumes, fruits, vegetables and an incredible wine list. As Darwin mulled over the selections, it was only his brother’s prompt arrival that kept him from racing back to the kitchen to see if he could be of any service.

The commotion at the door caught his eye, the young woman leading Mecan to the table laughing warmly as the two headed in his direction. Darwin could almost visualize the events that had them chatting so comfortably. The confused expression on her round face, her neck snapping back and forth as she did a double take when Mecan had stepped through the door had probably been quite comical. It was a typical reaction when folks saw one and then the other, before realizing there were actually two of them. The young lady dropped a second menu on the table as she gestured toward the empty seat.

“Wow, talk about identical twins! I can’t believe how much you two look alike,” she exclaimed, her head waving from side to side. “Your brother scared me to death. One minute you were sitting here, then the next minute you were standing by my side. I didn’t know what to think at first.”

Darwin smiled. “Well, now that you see us together, you can see I’m the better-looking brother.” He gave her a quick wink.

Mecan shook his head. “He’s not shy, either.” He extended his hand toward Darwin, who came to his feet to give him a quick greeting. The duo bumped shoulders in a one-armed embrace before dropping down into their respective seats. “So, how’s it going, little brother?” Mecan asked.

Darwin nodded. “Can’t complain, big brother.”

“Your waitress will be right with you,” the blonde said sweetly. “If I can be of any assistance please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Darwin winked again. “Thank you.”

The two men paused briefly to watch as she sashayed back to the front of the restaurant, both appreciating the overt side-to-side glide of her lean hips. Mecan shook his head as he turned back toward his brother. Making himself comfortable, he clasped his hands together in front of him, eyeing his look-alike curiously. “You don’t look sick.”

The other man chuckled. “What made you think I was sick?”

“There’s something going on with you. I heard it in your voice last night.”

Darwin grunted, a low growl rising from his midsection. Mecan noted his brother’s avoidance, his eyes dancing around the room, hesitant to meet his.

“Yep. Something’s up with you. Spill it.”

Darwin heaved a deep sigh as he finally met Mecan’s gaze. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, an attractive woman with a rich blue-black complexion moved to the table, a pen and pad in her hand. She smiled warmly, a brilliant row of pearl-white teeth greeting them.

“Hello. My name is Mina. I’m going to be your server today. Would you gentlemen like to start your meal with drinks and an appetizer?”

Darwin nodded, almost grateful for the interruption. “I think we’ll start with a charcuterie plate, please.”

“Very good, sir.”

“And, for the entrées, my brother will have the crab tower salad, and I would like to try the North African risotto.”

Mina nodded as she jotted their orders quickly. “Will that be all, sir?”

“No, why don’t you bring us a bottle of that Bootleg Sauvignon Blanc. And, just to get it out of the way, for dessert we’ll try the cheese sampler with the bûche maître seguin, the fiore sardo and the tomino, and two pots du crème.”

“Yes, sir.” Mina smiled sweetly as she gathered their menus, her gaze sweeping from one dark face to the other.

Mecan moved his head from side to side as the woman made her way to the rear of the restaurant and into the kitchen to place their orders. “You kill me! Have we ever gone out to eat together where I got to order my own food?”

Darwin shrugged, the two men laughing warmly together. “Old habits die hard. Just stop me next time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You must have been reading my mind, ’cause I really wanted to try the crab. Now, what the heck is all that other stuff you ordered? The charcuterie and that cheese thing?”

“Their charcuterie is just like an antipasto. It’s a variety of salamis, pickled peppers, olives, and almonds. On the cheese platter, the bûche maître seguin is a goat’s milk cheese served with a black fig jam, the other is sheep’s milk cheese with paprika and almonds, and the tomino is a soft cow’s milk cheese wrapped in Cullatello and served with fresh honey.”

Mecan shook his head. “Do I dare ask what the cream pot is?”

His brother laughed. “Pots du crème! It’s caramel and mocha custards with Valrhona chocolate and cinnamon.”

Mecan adjusted his napkin into his lap. “Well, it sounds like I’ll be eating well this afternoon.”

“I told you I wanted to show the chef some love. You do that by ordering and eating well.”

His brother leaned back against his cushioned seat. “Now, let’s try this again. What’s wrong with you?”

Darwin cut his eye toward his brother, then dropped his gaze back down to the table. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Says you.”

“Says anyone who knows you.”

The two men locked eyes, Mecan raising his eyebrows knowingly. “I know because it’s not often that you ignore a beautiful woman trying to get your attention and you’ve ignored two of them.”

“What two?”

Mecan shook his head. “I won’t even talk about our hostess, but how could you miss the eyes our waitress was giving you?”

Darwin looked over to the woman at the bar, casting furtive looks in his direction as she stood in conversation with the hostess and the bartender. He shrugged again. “You’re crazy. And how do you know they weren’t looking at you?”

Mecan tossed him a look of annoyance. With his elbows propped against the edge of the table he spun the gold wedding band on his left hand between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. “I think the fact that I wear a wedding band and you don’t might have been the first clue.”

His brother rolled his dark eyes and tossed the woman a second look. This time she smiled nervously, embarrassment flooding her face as she almost dropped the platter she’d been carrying.

Leaning forward, his fingers still entwined in front of him, Mecan’s expression turned serious. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me nothing. I can see it all over your face. Something’s not right with you.”

Holding his brother’s gaze for a second time, Darwin suddenly felt like the younger brother. He leaned forward in his own seat and whispered as if the duo were conspiring together.

“Yeah, but I don’t know what it is. It’s like…” He paused, gathered his thoughts, then switched gears. “After I talked to you last night, I went to visit an old friend. She and I kick it every so often.”

“Kick it?”

“You know.” Darwin rolled his eyes. “We have a sexual understanding.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“You want to hear this or not?”

Mecan gestured for him to continue.

“Well, my girl set the mood right. Candlelight, a bottle of wine, some chocolate syrup…”

Mecan grimaced. “Too much information.”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

“Sorry.”

“We spent some time doing a little cuddling, a little tickling, then jumped in the Jacuzzi. Well, when the moment was just right…” there was a moment of hesitation as Darwin felt his cheeks flush with heat “…I couldn’t perform.” He let his last three words fall quickly from his mouth.

Mecan nodded, fighting not to let a smile cross his face, the muscles pulling against his resolve. Clearly, Darwin didn’t find the problem to be a laughing matter. His brother’s expression was too serious, a sudden wave of anxiety sweeping over the man. Mecan attempted to assuage his discomfort. “Well, that just happens every now and then,” he finally managed to say, his smile not quite a smile as he struggled to keep a straight face.

“Has it ever happened to you?”

Mecan tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, then cast a gaze around the room. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, words failing him.

“See. It doesn’t just happen. And that’s not all,” Darwin said softly.

“You mean there’s more?”

“I mean this isn’t the first time. I haven’t been able to get or keep an erection for weeks now,” Darwin confessed, embarrassment painted in his expression.

“Have you seen a doctor?”

He nodded. “The official diagnosis for my problem is—” he paused, leaning in closer as his voice dropped another octave “—erectile dysfunction, and they can’t find anything medically wrong to explain it. He thinks I should see a shrink, that maybe it’s related to something emotional,” he whispered.

“So, what are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for it to fix itself,” Darwin whined, exasperation balancing his words.

Mina moved toward them with their bottle of wine and two glasses. On her heels another waitress was bringing the appetizers. Once they’d been served, she stepped back, pausing for just a brief moment. “Can I bring you anything else?” she asked politely.

Mecan shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

She smiled at Darwin again, the look she tossed him a clear invitation for something more. “And you, sir? Can I do anything else for you?” she asked, an air of seduction coating her tone.

Darwin forced himself to return the smile, his expression pained. “This is good for now, Mina. Thank you.”

The young woman nodded as she moved to another station, tossing them both a quick look over her shoulder. Her expression was hopeful yet Darwin seemed oblivious.

“I don’t know what to do, Mac,” he said, his eyes skating over his brother’s face.

Mecan took a deep breath. He could only imagine the man’s frustration. He had never played the field the way Darwin had, and the day he’d met his wife, Jeneva, he’d fallen hopelessly in love. He’d known almost instantly that no other woman would ever be able to make him feel the way Jeneva did. As he thought about his wife and their family and compared it to his brother’s life, an idea suddenly crossed his mind. As if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, he smiled and nodded.

“You need to settle down. That’s what you need.”

“Excuse me?”

“You need to fall in love and commit to one woman. I’d bet my last dollar that would cure your problem almost instantly.”

Darwin rolled his eyes skyward. “You’re crazy.”

“No, I’m very serious. That love stick of yours is probably just tired of being shuffled from one bed to another. And I think your heart is, as well. I’m certain if your heart’s no longer in it, then you’re sure to have problems.”

Darwin pondered his brother’s comments. He shook his head and the two men locked gazes. Maybe, he thought. Just maybe his big brother knew what he was talking about.

The words out of his mouth, though, were pure denial. “I truly doubt that the only cure I need is to settle down with one female happily-ever-after. That fairy-tale crap may have worked for you, but I’m not buying it.”

Mecan shrugged, a wry grin returning to his face as the waitress approached with the first course of their meal. “Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Chapter 3

When Darwin finally made his way back to his office, there was a stack of legal documents lying in a neat pile on top of his desk. At lunch, he and Mecan had quickly changed the subject from his sexual problems to news of family members and their own recent exploits. Although they’d enjoyed an exceptionally good meal, Darwin had actually been relieved when it was over. His brother’s comments continued to haunt him, the idea having taken a firm hold in his consciousness.

He was desperate for an answer to his problem. The situation was really starting to wreak havoc on his personal life. Last night’s fiasco had left him wounded, his ego sufficiently bruised as he’d crept from his friend’s bed and out the front door as fast as he could run. The woman had professed to be understanding but her disappointment had been obvious. He could only imagine the tale she’d had to share with her friends once he was gone and she could get her hands on a telephone. Darwin cringed at the thought.

His new assistant, an intern named Rhonda Bishop, rushed into the office behind him, visibly flustered as she juggled a cup of hot coffee in one hand and more file folders in the other. She began talking at a rapid pace, words flying past her thin lips.

“Hi, Mr. Tolliver. Mrs. Scott asked me to give these to you. She said you need to have your personal attorney review them, then you need to sign where indicated and get them back to the legal department ASAP.” The young woman took a deep inhale of air to catch her breath. “Did you enjoy your lunch, sir?” she finally asked, setting the mug of hot fluid down in front of him as he took a seat. She dropped the folders onto the other pile.

Darwin nodded, chuckling under his breath. “Lunch was very good. Did my esteemed producer leave any other instructions for me?”

Rhonda stared off into space, brushing a lock of red hair from in front of her eyes as she appeared to be searching her memory for a response. “Yes,” she suddenly answered, excited that she hadn’t forgotten something that was actually important. “Yes! She says she needs your final menus for the first week by end of business tomorrow. No exceptions.”

Darwin nodded. “Attorney and menus. Sounds easy enough. Do you know any good attorneys?”

The young woman shrugged, a frown crossing her face. “I don’t think so.”

Darwin thought for a quick moment, then suddenly smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I actually happen to know a woman who’s a very good lawyer.” He reached for his BlackBerry and did a quick search for a telephone number. When he found it, the grin painting his face widened. Bridget Hinton would surely give him a hand, he mused, thoughts of the exquisite woman suddenly erasing the tension that had been holding him hostage since he’d seen his brother. As least I hope she will help, he thought.

Bridget was his sister-in-law’s best friend. Darwin hadn’t missed the fact that Jeneva had been trying to hook the two of them up since he could remember, but he’d not given in to her exploits willingly. He’d not been looking for a relationship and it had been clear to him from day one that Bridget was a woman who wasn’t interested in being any man’s “sexual understanding.”

Bridget came to the table with high expectations, making it clear that a man had to match what she was putting down or step off. Her legal-eagle demeanor was cool and confident and she was clearly not a woman to be taken lightly. Darwin hadn’t been ready or willing to test those waters and so he’d ignored the more flagrant overtures that his sibling and her friends had exhibited in their matchmaking efforts.

But there was something about the woman that had held his interest, despite his unwillingness to act on it. Something in her deep black eyes that he’d found intoxicating. It had something to do with the way she looked at him, the way she smiled when he came into the room. How her presence made him feel. Darwin felt a quiver of heat shift in his abdomen. He bit down against his bottom lip as memories of the woman skated through his mind.

Rhonda cleared her throat, the noise pulling him back to the moment. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Tolliver?” she asked.

Darwin shook the clouds from his head, focusing his attention back on the young woman who stood staring at him curiously. “No, thank you. In fact, I think I’m going to get out of here early today. I want to work from home this afternoon. I have to get those menus together.” He smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

He watched as Rhonda made her way out of the room and back to her desk, then he reached for the telephone to make his call.

The ride home was too quiet for Darwin’s comfort so he fiddled with the buttons on his radio for some song to amuse him. With one eye on the road and the other on the scan button, he finally decided on a classic R & B station that was spinning an old Motown tune. His brother was more of a Motown fan, the style reminiscent of their late father and their parents’ Friday-night favorites. Darwin’s tastes tended to lean more toward rock and roll and alternative rock. At the moment his favorite group was the Gorillaz and he was kicking himself for taking their latest CD out of the car and forgetting to put it back in when he’d cleaned the vehicle earlier that week.

After a few minutes Darwin decided Motown wasn’t what he wanted at all and he switched the radio off, falling back into the silence that had annoyed him in the first place. He heaved a deep sigh, thoughts of Mecan’s comments and the frustration over his medical condition once again playing havoc with his nerves. Images of Bridget tottered through his mind, as well, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his needing her services and the remembrance of his attraction toward her was happening for a reason. His brother’s prediction seemed to be holding hands with his fate, spinning him in the direction of a new destiny.

Darwin knew that if there was any one woman he could see himself doing forever with, she would be a woman like Bridget. Bridget reminded him of his mother, and what man didn’t want a woman like the one who’d given birth to him and had loved him more than life itself? Frances Tolliver had a strength and fortitude that was uncompromising. She wore her emotions over her heart, loving deeply and standing on the power of her convictions. His mother was one tough cookie, with a chocolate heart of pure gold, the ability to laugh in the face of unfathomable challenges and a warm, gentle touch that instantly eased away any hurt. His father had been blessed beyond reason to have a woman like that at his side. Darwin could only begin to wish for half that in a companion of his own, and Bridget was a woman who came with an equally impressive list of attributes. Plus, the woman had the body of a goddess.

As Darwin’s thoughts lingered over each dip and curve he could remember, he was reminded of his impotence, the yearning in his mind not even igniting a flicker of warmth through his groin. Reaching for the radio a second time he found a station blasting Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama.” As the music vibrated out of the speakers, flooding the closed vehicle with a heavy bass, he thought about what a sweet home could possibly entail. Darwin suddenly found himself imagining the possibilities.

Bridget wasn’t at all prepared when her doorbell rang. Darwin Tolliver had called her out of the blue the day before, asking for her assistance with some business contracts he didn’t understand. She’d been surprised by his call, the sound of his voice reviving the more sensual thoughts she’d been having about him earlier that week, and the moment had unnerved her. There was something to be said for his timing, she mused, wondering if things really did happen for a reason.

She took one last glance in the foyer mirror to check her reflection, then reached for the door handle. As she pulled it open to find him standing confidently on the other side, she suddenly felt as if her knees would never stop quivering, threatening to send her straight to the floor. She was grateful for the linen slacks that shielded her shaking limbs from view.

Darwin Tolliver was one good-looking black man. Tall, like his brother Mecan, with the same blue-black complexion, brilliant white smile and dimpled cheeks, Darwin had a majestic presence. What woman could resist a man who carried himself like the emperor of his own private kingdom?

His Royal Highness greeted her warmly. “Bridget, I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” he said as he stepped over the threshold. He wrapped his arms around her torso and hugged her tightly as he kissed her cheek. “Are you sure it’s not a problem?”

Bridget could feel herself melting beneath his touch. “It’s not a problem at all,” she answered. “And it’s good to see you again.”

Darwin nodded. “When was the last time we saw each other? Christmas?”

She shook her head. “Thanksgiving, I think. At Mac and Jeneva’s. If I remember correctly, you were in Louisiana for Christmas.”

“That’s right. My sister did Christmas dinner.” He screwed up his face as though the memory had brought back a bad taste.

Bridget chuckled. “Was it that awful?”

He laughed. “No, not really. But cooking isn’t one of Paris’s stronger attributes and she wouldn’t let me help. We have to be nice, though, when she tries or Mama gets mad at us.”

“How is Mama Frances?” Bridget asked, inquiring about his mother.

“She’s doing very well. Still trying to keep Uncle Jake on the straight and narrow.”

It suddenly dawned on Bridget that they were still standing in the foyer of her home. She shook her head. “How rude of me. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Darwin smiled as she gestured toward the living room sofa. He took a seat, settling his large body against the cushioned perch. An awkward silence suddenly filled the space between them as Bridget dropped down against the wing chair across from him. Darwin stared down to the hardwood floor, searching his thoughts for something clever to say but words were fleeting. He suddenly felt silly, the moment reminiscent of grade school and after-school antics between the boys and the girls.

The rising uneasiness felt thick and heavy and both of them suddenly felt self-conscious. Bridget brushed her palms against her thighs, wiping at the dampness that had risen to her palms. This was the first time she and Darwin had ever been in a room alone together. She’d fantasized about this moment more times than she was willing to admit, but never had her dreams been as embarrassing and as uncomfortable as she was now feeling.

“So…” she started, her gaze skipping around the room as if she were afraid to rest her eyes on him.

Darwin smiled. “So…how have you been?”

Bridget smiled again, her hands twisting nervously in her lap. “As well as can be expected, I guess.”

Quiet filled the space for a second time. Bridget was suddenly aware of his breathing, the slow inhale and exhale of his breath blending with the louder click of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the CD player that was playing softly in the other room. He sat with a large manila envelope between his palms, spinning the package over and over in his hands. She watched him as he looked around the room, slowly noting each detail of her decor. His gaze lingered ever so briefly on the large acrylic painting that hung just above her baby grand piano. His lips pulled up into the slightest smile and the gesture sent a shiver through the pit of her stomach and up her spine.

“That’s beautiful,” he said, his head bobbing up and down. “Is it an original or a reproduction?”

“An original. It was done by an artist named Joseph Holston.”

“Very nice.”

Bridget stared where he stared, reflecting on the abstract painting’s cubist style. The image was of a couple embracing, and it had been one of her favorites from the moment she’d first laid eyes on it. She turned to stare back at him.

“Are those your contracts?” she asked, gesturing with her head to the mailer in his hands.

“Oh…yeah. These are them.” He extended the envelope toward her. “I really appreciate this, Bridget. In the past I’ve used my agent’s attorney, but these needed to be reviewed in a hurry and I really wanted someone I trust to look them over for me. But if it’s a bother or if I’m keeping you from anything, I’ll understand.”

She shook her head. “It’s not a problem, really. I was just going to throw a chicken breast under the broiler and call it a night.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?”

“Not yet.”

Darwin beamed, shifting forward in his seat. “I’ll tell you what. Let me loose in your kitchen and I’ll cook your dinner while you look at my contracts.”

“That’s not necessary—” she started.

“Really,” he said, rising to his feet and heading boldly toward the back of her home. “I want to.”

Bridget followed behind him. “Well, only if you promise to stay and eat with me.”

The man smiled, winking an eye as he glanced back over his shoulder. “It’s a deal.”

“Now, I really don’t have a whole lot to work with,” she said. “I usually eat out.”

Darwin chuckled as he took in the expanse of her immaculate kitchen. “It doesn’t take much to eat well.”

Taking a seat at the dining table, Bridget watched as he took command of her kitchen. Pulling open her cupboards, he gathered a row of spices onto the counter, then moved to lean into her refrigerator. The view of his backside and the tight pair of Levi’s jeans he wore caused her body to heat with sudden wanting. Shaking the emotion, Bridget laid the documents onto the tabletop and began to read.

Darwin was grateful for the distraction. He’d not anticipated feeling this unnerved in Bridget’s presence. He’d forgotten just how exquisite she was. Bridget bore a striking resemblance to the songstress Lauryn Hill. They shared the same rich, deep-chocolate complexion; charismatic smile framed by full, luscious lips and dark ebony eyes that shimmered with a hint of vulnerability. Her demeanor was controlled and confident and Darwin was willing to bet that Bridget didn’t have a clue just how intimidating she could be to a man.

Bridget could bring a man to his knees with just the hint of a smile. And when she opened her mouth to speak, those around her were usually bowled over by her intellect, her beguiling sense of humor. And her laugh could make a whole room feel comfortable to be around her.

And damn, he thought as he laid four strips of chicken breast against a plastic cutting board, she smelled sweet, like a delicate concoction of vanilla and honey. As he’d wrapped his arms around her in greeting, it had taken every ounce of his control not to trail his tongue in the crevice of her neck to see if she tasted just as tantalizing. He heaved a deep sigh and Bridget looked up from her reading to meet his gaze with her own.

She smiled and his stomach did a quick flip. He smiled back, praying in the back of his mind that he didn’t ruin this meal, his attention focused on everything but what he was cooking.

“You do that quite well,” Bridget said, breaking the silence.

“Excuse me?”

She gestured in his direction. “Cooking. You are good at it. I’ve been watching how easily you’ve been moving around in my kitchen. It’s almost like a ballet the way you’ve been dancing behind that counter. And whatever is in that pan smells incredible.”

Darwin chuckled. “Girl, I don’t do ballet. I’m more of a tap-dance, hip-hop kind of guy.”

Bridget laughed with him. “Excuse me! Either way, you do your thing very well. You’ve got good moves.”

“Well, it’s easy when you’ve got a great kitchen to work in,” he responded. “Are you sure you don’t cook? Your kitchen is stocked way better than my own.”

She shook her head. “Thank you, but no, it’s more for show than anything else. I could probably burn water without any effort.”

He nodded. “I guess I’ll have to stop by more often and take advantage of this.”

Bridget’s eyes widened as he grinned in her direction. “Any…any time,” she stammered, the prospect of Darwin returning for any reason raising her temperature.

The duo laughed, then almost simultaneously returned to what they were doing. Bridget grinned into the manila folder that lay open on the tabletop. Her body was on overdrive. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. Darwin was covering the chicken strips in flour, an egg wash, and then seasoned breadcrumbs before laying them into a pan of sizzling olive oil. The aromas wafting through the room had her insides bubbling with hunger, and the man himself had stirred a low flame through the rest of her.

A girl could get used to this, she thought as he moved effortlessly from one saucepan to another. She closed her eyes and then pinched herself, grasping just a bit of the flesh at her wrist between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand. If this wasn’t real, she needed to wake up before it went any further. When she opened her eyes again, Darwin was still there, still moving as though he’d always belonged right there in her kitchen and her life. As he pulled a tablespoon of simmering sauce to his lips, blowing lightly over the hot substance, Bridget closed her eyes for a second time, imagining what it might be like to have those lips blowing warm breath against her skin.

Darwin’s deep voice suddenly shook her from her reverie as he stepped in behind her, a large hand pressed easily against the center of her back. The tips of his fingers burned hot against the flesh beneath her silk blouse.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked, nervous energy quivering in her voice.

“No. I apologize,” Darwin responded, smiling down at her. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought you might want to set the table. The food’s almost ready.”

Bridget stood up quickly, shifting away from the rise of heat that was spreading like a raging itch through her body. As if sensing her reaction, Darwin clenched his fingers into a tight fist and crossed both arms behind his back, staring sheepishly in her direction. The earlier awkwardness between them suddenly resurfaced with a vengeance.

Chapter 4

Roshawn and Jeneva were giggling hysterically into their telephone receivers. Bridget didn’t find a thing funny about her situation and she said so.

“You two get right on my nerves. I called for some advice and instead you’re making fun of me. I hate you both.”

“Don’t say hate. That’s not nice,” Jeneva responded.

“And it’s very funny,” Roshawn quipped. “You and Darwin have actually gone from making goo-goo eyes at each other to playing pocket pool. I personally think you’re making great progress. Not!”

Jeneva laughed.

“Pocket pool?” Bridget questioned. “What’s pocket pool?”

“You know how you play pool? That game with the long stick and the balls that you sink into the little holes?”

“Those of us with a little refinement call that billiards.”

“Yeah, well, whatever you want to call the game, you two are playing it with both of your hands in your pockets instead of on each other. Unfortunately, that makes it kind of hard to sink his—”

“Don’t even say it!” Bridget shook her head, fighting to suppress the smile pulling at her lips. “Roshawn, you are too nasty!”

“But she has a point,” Jeneva interjected. “You like him and he likes you and for the life of me I can’t figure out what’s keeping you two from hooking up. It’s been almost six years and the only kiss you’ve gotten has been on your cheek.”

“And it wasn’t the right cheek, either.” Roshawn laughed. “I keep telling you he can’t get there if you keep your clothes on.”

“I’m convinced it’s just not meant to be. He doesn’t see me any differently from how he sees you, Jeneva.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Darwin is usually a lot smoother around women. Him being so nervous tells me he sees you quite differently.”

“And he cooked for you. That has to count for something,” Roshawn added. “So what else happened? Finish your story.”

Bridget sighed. “Well, you would have thought I’d never set a dinner table before. I couldn’t remember where my good silverware was. I knocked the water glasses over twice, dropped the wine bottle and forgot to light the candles.”

“But was the food any good?” Jeneva asked.

“To die for. That man can cook his behind off. And he made dessert, too! It was the cutest little dish of wafer cookies, ice cream and sautéed peaches. He served it in a champagne glass.”

“That’s all well and good. But I want to know who had to wash all the dishes he dirtied?” Roshawn asked.

“We both did. He washed and I dried. Then he went home so I could finish reviewing his contracts.”

“Did he kiss you good-night at least?” Roshawn inquired.

“No. In fact, he rushed out of here so fast I think I may have scared him.”

The women laughed and Bridget could feel her face warming from embarrassment as she remembered how quickly Darwin had raced out of her home.

“But you get to see him again, right? To give him back his papers?”

Bridget nodded into the receiver. “Tomorrow. I’m taking them over to his studio in the morning.”

“Well, wear something low-cut,” Roshawn chimed. “Sounds like you need to step it up a notch.”

Bridget heaved a deep sigh. Stepping it up a notch didn’t begin to address what she needed to do, she thought. What she had never shared with Jeneva or Roshawn was that she’d resigned herself to never marrying, never having a man to spend the rest of her life with. Sure, she’d held out hope that her few flirtations would have netted her a companion, but Bridget had never been one to let wishful thinking take precedence over her common sense. Bridget was acutely aware of the many statistics that prophesied a black woman’s chances of finding a mate, and they weren’t favorable. The nearness of Darwin Tolliver suddenly had her rethinking her prior convictions and wondering whether or not love was actually a possibility for her. She shook the thought from her mind.

“I’m not wearing anything I wouldn’t wear any other day of the week. If I can accept Darwin not being interested in me, then you two need to, as well.”

Jeneva chuckled. “Who is she trying to convince?” she asked, her voice brimming with amusement. “Us or herself?”

Roshawn laughed with her. “Well, I know I haven’t fallen for it. Sounds just like another excuse to me.”

Bridget sucked in her breath. “I need new friends.”

“New friends, a man and a job. Girlfriend, your need list is growing longer and longer,” Roshawn said. “I need me a few things, too, so when you get yours let me know where you went shopping.”

“Okay, we need to stop, Roshawn. Bridget didn’t call us for a hard time.”

“You got that right,” Bridget said. “So stop being a cow and tell me what to do, heifer!”

“Oh, I got your heifer, heifer!”

Almost an hour later the three women were still talking nonsense over the telephone. And as Roshawn regaled them with a story about her life in Arizona, Bridget couldn’t help but wonder what Darwin might have been doing right then.

A nondescript noise woke him from a sound sleep. For only a quick moment he was dazed and disoriented, his vision still blurred from the deep slumber he’d been wrapped in. Then he remembered that he’d been dreaming, floating blissfully on clouds of visual pleasure.

He’d been dreaming about Bridget. The two of them had been cooking up more than chicken and vegetables in her kitchen. In fact, Bridget had been dessert, the icing on his cake, and he’d been licking every square inch of her spoon. Unfortunately, just when he’d needed his own utensil to function, it didn’t and he’d woken up thoroughly frustrated.

As he lay sprawled across the surface of his king-size bed, he imagined he could still feel her body pressed warmly against his. He even thought he could still smell the delicate scent of her perfume teasing his senses. He inhaled deeply, savoring the moment as he reached a hand down to cup the limp bulge of flesh between his legs. Even in the throes of sleep his body was failing him, not even a quiver or a twitch to boost his manhood.

Darwin slammed a fist against the padded mattress top and swore. Loudly. The profanity pierced through the dark and the silence that filled the space around him. The harshness of it frightened the snow-white Maltese that lay sound asleep at his bedside. The small animal jumped with a low growl, then barked, a series of high-pitched yips crying for some attention. Darwin blew a gust of warm breath past his lips.

“Hush, Biscuit. Stop that noise.”

The tiny bundle of puppy energy stood up on her hind legs, a tiny paw scratching the air for his attention. With one hand he swept all six pounds of fluff up to his side, gently stroking the animal’s head as she struggled to lick his hand and his face.

“No kisses, you. Stop that! Stop, Biscuit!” he said, his pleas a half-hearted attempt at a reprimand.

Ignoring him, Biscuit jumped about, then finally settled down against a pillow on the other side of the bed.

Great, Darwin thought, palming his crotch for a second time before pulling both of his arms up and over his head. Here I am, dreaming of a female in my bed, and the one actually here has four legs and a tail.

As if reading his mind, Biscuit barked again, then settled her head back down against the pillow, her dark eyes eyeing him curiously.

“Don’t you get comfortable,” Darwin said out loud. “Your bed is on the floor, dog.”

Biscuit tilted her head ever so slightly.

Darwin sighed. Bridget had been on his mind since he’d raced out of her home. Although he’d gotten the impression that she wouldn’t have minded him staying longer, his nerves wouldn’t allow it. The woman had had him trembling in his seat as they’d enjoyed dinner and dessert. By the time the meal was finished and the dishes washed, he was a walking time bomb set to explode.

It was one thing to be in a loving relationship with a woman and then become impotent, but it had to be something else altogether to be impotent walking into the relationship. He couldn’t imagine any woman wanting only half a man. He wasn’t about to set himself up for that kind of disappointment and embarrassment. It was best that he just leave any thoughts of him and Bridget alone. “It couldn’t possibly work, could it, Biscuit?” he said softly. He tossed a quick glance over to the animal beside him. His pet barely opened her eyes, quickly resuming her soft snores. Darwin shook his head. Even his dog couldn’t be bothered with the traumas of his love life.

Chapter 5

The downtown production studio where Darwin’s show was being taped was just minutes from the Space Needle in the Seattle Center. It was a new, digital, state-of-the-art facility, and as Bridget eased her Cadillac CTS into an empty parking space, she couldn’t help but be impressed.

A stint in family court had worn on her last nerves that morning. One father’s continuous refusal to pay support for his four children by three different mothers had been more than enough to set her on edge. When the fool had actually accused her of conspiring against him to make points with the prosecutor, she’d been ready to quit on the spot. She’d had enough of representing clients who clearly knew they were wrong and expected her to just overlook their more glaring faults to help them get over on someone else. When the judge had ordered him to be incarcerated pending payment of some thirty thousand dollars in child support arrears, she hadn’t bothered to protest. The man had deserved that and more.

She knew that before the day was over he’d post his cash bond, go right back to his dental practice and be at the firm’s door three months down the road trying to explain why he’d bought a new boat instead of paying little junior’s school tuition. The entire drama had put her one hour behind schedule, and by the end of the court session all she could think about was that she was late for her appointment with Darwin.

A young man who mumbled his name met her in the lobby, gesturing for her to follow behind him. Leading her past a row of immaculately furnished offices, he guided her through a vast warehouse area where an ample supply of props was being stored. Toward the other end of the open room were a series of construction areas where craftsmen were hard at work building elaborate sets. Her guide stopped briefly to tell someone named “Kevin” that he had a date with “Linda” the following night. The two men exchanged pleasantries before he remembered his mission to get Bridget to wherever Darwin was.

They moved down another labyrinth of hallways, past a room labeled as the makeup department and on through the studio’s commissary. The aroma of something spicy tickled her nostrils and Bridget suddenly remembered that she hadn’t eaten since Darwin’s dinner the night before.

When she was adequately lost, her guide ushered her through a closed door and then turned toward her, drawing his index finger up to his lips.

“They’re in the middle of taping. We have to be very quiet,” he whispered, his words rolling over his tongue like marbles across a slick floor.

Bridget nodded, staring toward where he pointed as he eased her over to an open area to stand. Darwin was engaging, and as she stood there watching him, she couldn’t help but smile, a wide grin filling her face.

The man was clearly at ease behind the large counters where he was preparing the meal of the moment. He spoke casually into the camera as if he were having a conversation with an old friend. As he explained the dicing and slicing of a vegetable melange that would top slices of a seasoned roast, she found herself wanting to rush to the kitchen to join in, to learn, to be a part of his experience. She knew that anyone else who watched the show would feel the same way.

Darwin pointed into the camera, his signature smile beaming over his audience. “So, let me show you how it’s done!” he chimed warmly.

“And that’s a wrap!” someone else shouted amidst a wave of applause. A team of technicians suddenly moved to prepare the space for the next filming.

Darwin waved in her direction and Bridget found herself waving back, her excitement bubbling over.

“Hi!” he said, moving quickly to her side. “I thought you’d stood me up.”

“Not at all. I apologize, but I was held up in court. I called but they said you had to go on set and couldn’t take any calls. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Not at all,” he said, squeezing her hand beneath his palms. “I’m glad you came.”

He smiled again and Bridget could feel her resolve melting like ice under a summer sun. She’d spent the entire ride over insisting to herself that she would not let Darwin have any effect on her and here she was, standing like soft butter before him.

A tall woman with a mane of auburn hair that skimmed the crest of her buttocks suddenly pulled at Darwin’s elbow. The voice was deep and thick like molasses as she purred the man’s name.

“Darwin. That was absolutely perfect. If you do that every time we are sure to have a hit on our hands.” The woman’s gaze moved from Darwin to Bridget. She extended a limp hand. “Hello, I’m Ella Scott, Darwin’s producer and the associate station manager here.”

Bridget returned the greeting. “Bridget Hinton. Mr. Tolliver’s attorney.”

The woman smiled, seemingly content with Bridget’s response. “It’s very nice to meet you. Have you been in practice long?” Ella asked.

“A while now.”

“So, you’re from Seattle originally?”

“Born and raised. You?”

“I’m fairly new to the area. I was born and raised in a very small town a few hours from here.”

“I love small towns. Is it one I know?”

“Coulee City?”

Bridget nodded. “That’s near Colville and the Indian Reservation, correct?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a lovely community.”

Ella shrugged, then resumed her conversation with Darwin. “Darwin, I have some suggestions that we should discuss later. But I loved the show. Just loved it.”

“Thank you, Ella. I appreciate that.”

“Well, if you two will excuse me, I’m going to see if I can sneak me a little taste of that meal you prepared before the crew eats it all up. We can meet at three o’clock, Darwin,” she said, not bothering to wait for a response. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Hinton.”

They watched as Ella rushed off in the other direction. Darwin pressed a palm against Bridget’s elbow. “Let’s go to my office,” he said, leading her back toward the maze of offices.

As they entered his personal space, he closed the door behind them, gesturing for her to take a seat on a plush leather sofa that lined one of the walls. Darwin pulled up a chair directly in front of her, leaning forward with his elbows against his thighs, his hands clasped together in front of him. For a brief moment he sat staring at her, oblivious to the time that ticked too quickly away.

He’d noticed her the moment she’d walked into the studio. His heart had skipped one beat, and then a second, and he had barely been able to pull his baked dish from the oven without dropping it. It felt like puppy love and he was enjoying every minute of it. He hadn’t felt anything like this since high school and the homecoming queen, Cassandra Tripp, who’d been his date to the senior prom.

Bridget wore a sharkskin denim blazer with a chic white blouse beneath it and dark slacks. Her hair was pulled back into a slick ponytail that hung just below her shoulders. As always, he was taken aback by her bright eyes, the slight dimple in her full cheeks and the most intoxicating mouth he imagined any woman ever possessing. As he sat staring he could see the flush that suddenly flamed her face.

Bridget eyed him curiously. “Are you okay? You’re staring.”

Darwin could feel himself blush. “Sorry. I…” he stammered, searching for the words to ease the moment.

Bridget shook her head. “There’s nothing caught in my teeth, is there?”

Darwin laughed. “No. Your teeth are perfect. Absolutely beautiful, in fact. The prettiest smile I’ve ever seen.”

Bridget rolled her eyes, smirking.

“Don’t pay me any attention. I get stupid around beautiful women.” He chuckled.

“Then I’m scared,” she responded coyly. “From what I hear you’ve made being around beautiful women a personal mission.”

“Has my brother been talking out of turn again?”

She shrugged and then they both burst out laughing. Bridget shifted the conversation. “Do you want to talk about your contracts?”

Darwin shook his head. “Not really. Were there any problems?”

“Just a few items I think need to be clarified.”

“I’ll tell you what. Call the attorney here, do that lawyer thing you guys do, and when it’s fixed where you like it, I’ll sign.”

“Don’t you want to know what the issues are?”

“No. I trust your judgment. I know you’ll take care of me.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Darwin leaned in closer, his hand falling against her knee. “Well, we’re almost family, aren’t we? Sort of like kissing cousins or something.”

She eyed him warily. “Kissing cousins? I don’t think so.”

A smug smirk crossed his face. “Okay, we’ll leave out the cousins part, but the kissing…”

“Like you kissed my best friend?”

Darwin was only slightly taken aback by the comment. He cleared his throat before responding. “For the record, your friend kissed me. I did not kiss her.”

“That’s not what it looked like. In fact, it looked like the two of you were getting quite cozy with one another.”

Darwin shook his head, his smile still full and wide. “Am I in trouble? Because I don’t think I should be. Your friend was flirting with me. It was absolutely shameless!” he said, his tone teasing. “And it happened how many years ago? Don’t I get a reprieve for good behavior or something?”

She studied him carefully, noting the gleam of mischief that flickered in his eyes. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you plan to go around kissing my best friend again.”

His head moved from side to side. “Never. But I do hope I get to kiss you. I really would like to kiss you. Someday. Someday soon, maybe?”

Bridget eyed him with amusement. “Darwin Tolliver, are you flirting with me?” she asked playfully.

A wide grin filled his face again. “I’m trying. I hope you don’t mind.”

Bridget placed her hand over his and gently moved it from her leg back to his own lap. His touch had been burning, sending a shiver up and down the length of her spine.

“You don’t need to tease me, Darwin Tolliver. Like you said, we’re almost family, so you can trust that I’ll represent your interests. Besides, I thought we considered each other friends.”

“But I can’t flirt?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On whether or not you’re planning to cook dinner for me again.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s a lot for some men.”

“Maybe, but it’s not a big deal for me at all.”

“Then we have a deal?”

Darwin nodded. “Tonight. At my place. Dinner’s at seven.”

Bridget rose to her feet. “I’ll be there,” she said, moving swiftly toward the door. She smiled. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Confusion swept over his expression. “For what?”

“I was afraid that you might still be uncomfortable around me. We had a few awkward moments last night. It had me worried.”

Darwin chuckled, his head bobbing up and down. “I thought it was just me. Glad to know I wasn’t alone.”

“Let’s not let it happen again, either.”

“No problem. And by the way…” Darwin paused for just a brief second. “I really wasn’t interested in kissing your friend. I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“I know. That heifer can be shameless sometimes,” Bridget said with a sly wink. “See you later.”

As she moved to make her exit, Darwin called out her name.

“Yes?”

“Don’t you want to know where I live?”

Seconds after Bridget was out the door with directions to his home tucked into her purse, Darwin was kicking himself. What in the world was I thinking? he thought, dropping his head into his hands and his rear end into a chair. This can’t possibly go anywhere.

But he hadn’t been able to stop himself. The woman had been irresistible and all he’d been able to think about was spending more time with her. Reaching for the telephone, he pushed the seven digits to his brother’s cell phone and waited anxiously for the man to pick up on the other end.

Bridget sat motionless in her car, her forehead pressed against the steering wheel. She wasn’t quite sure what had just happened between her and Darwin, and although she was excited on one hand, she was scared to death on the other. Leaning back against the leather seat, she took a deep breath, wishing for the influx of oxygen to slow her rapid heartbeat.

There had been more comfort between them than discomfort. It had felt strangely familiar in one second and very odd in the next. She was curious to know more about Darwin, to share more of herself with him, and the prospect of doing so actually had her terrified. Taking another deep breath, Bridget started the ignition and headed in the direction of home.

Mecan was laughing into the receiver. “What’s wrong, playa? I’ve never known you to let a woman run you scared. You losing your touch?”

“Don’t joke. This isn’t funny.”

Mecan continued to chuckle. “You need to relax. Bridget is an incredible woman. You two have had a crush on each other since you first met. Enjoy it. This may be just what you need.”

“Maybe, but I hope it’s not a mistake. I’d hate to ruin a good friendship.”

Mecan shook his head. “You two need to get to know each other before you can truly be friends. You haven’t allowed yourself to do that yet. But just let it happen. I know it’ll work out for you.”

Darwin nodded as if his brother could see him. His gaze floated to the view outside. “How did you know with Jeneva, Mac? How did you know she was the one and only woman you could see yourself being with?”

The older brother took a deep breath, reflecting back on his courtship with his wife. Their relationship had blossomed over their mutual concern for Jeneva’s son. Young Quincy had been born with some mental and physical challenges that had tested the strength and fortitude of his single mother. As director of the residential care facility Jeneva had moved the boy into, Mecan had helped the struggling teenager maneuver his way to adulthood.

Jeneva had been the most exquisite woman Mecan had ever met, and while her beauty began on the outside, it was all-consuming on the inside. She’d had spirit and fire and one of the biggest hearts of any woman he’d ever dated. It had taken an extended road trip to Atlanta, Georgia, and then back to Seattle to solidify the bond between them. From that moment on they’d been inseparable, every facet of their lives revolving around their love for each other and their two children.

Blowing the gust of air out slowly, Mecan answered his brother’s question. “I think Jeneva said it best. We were both just standing on the right side of love and we both knew there was no other place we could ever imagine ourselves being. It’s something you feel inside you, Darwin. It’s something that moves you to get up each and every day, excited about the future. When it happens you won’t be able to explain it to anyone with mere words. They’ll be able to see it in everything you do or don’t do. And you’ll see it on her face and she’ll see it on yours.”

Darwin nodded. “Bridget’s special, Mac. I just don’t want to mess this up.”

Jeneva Tolliver sat with her legs crossed on Bridget’s queen-size bed. Alexa, her five-year-old daughter, sat beside her, and the two of them were watching Bridget flit back and forth from her closet to the bed. Clothes were being pulled off their hangers and tossed madly about as Bridget struggled with what to wear on her date. Her date. The thought sent a sudden wave of panic straight through her and she dropped down against the bedside, her gaze resting on Jeneva.

“Are you all right?” her best friend asked.

She shook her head, tears burning hot against the back of her eyelids. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she managed to sputter, swiping at her face with the back of her hand.

Jeneva smiled, reaching a warm palm out to caress Bridget’s shoulder. “Yes, you should. I promise you. It’s going to be just fine.”

“Why you cryin’?” Alexa asked, little-girl concern painting her expression. “Why Auntie Bridget cryin’, Mama? She hurt?”

Jeneva smiled, leaning to kiss her child’s forehead. “Auntie Bridget is happy. She and Uncle Darwin are going on a date.”

The child’s gaze moved from her mother to her godmother. “You not supposed to cry when you go on a date. Quincy didn’t cry when he went on his date,” the child said, referring to her twenty-one-year-old brother.

Jeneva rolled her eyes skyward. “Quincy didn’t go on a date.”

“Yes, he did. Daddy said.”

Bridget laughed. “When did Mr. Quincy go on a date?”

Jeneva winced. “It wasn’t a date. They just had a dance at the school and he met one of his friends there.”

“Her name’s Tasha and Quincy says she special like him,” Alexa interjected.

Jeneva pointed an index finger at her friend. “Don’t you say one word,” she hissed softly.

Bridget laughed for a second time. “Well, he is of age, Jeneva. You knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“You sound like my husband.”

“I bet she’s a sweet girl.”

Jeneva shrugged her shoulders. “She is sweet but she has as many developmental issues as Quincy has.”

Alexa interrupted. “Are you gone kiss Uncle Darwin? Daddy says when you go on a date with your boyfriend you get a kiss.”

Jeneva’s look was incredulous. “I know your father did not say anything like that, girlie! When did he say that?”

“Quincy asked him if he could kiss Tasha and Daddy said that if Tasha gave her permission that he could give her a kiss on the cheek at the end of the date. Daddy said!” the child pronounced before turning back to her godmother. “You gone kiss Uncle Darwin on the cheek, Auntie Bridget?”

Jeneva shook her head. “You wait until I get my hands on that man!” she exclaimed.

The two women burst out laughing.

Alexa’s hands flew to her hips. “Well?”

Catching her breath, Bridget reached over to give the child a quick tickle. Alexa giggled, falling over onto her side between the two adults.

“I don’t know, girlie. But if I do I’ll make sure to tell you.”

Alexa stood up on the mattress, reaching to wrap her arms around her mother’s neck. “Uncle Darwin is my man,” she said, her precocious tone rising with enthusiasm.

“You don’t have a man, Alexa Tolliver. You’re too grown with your fresh self. And Uncle Darwin is your uncle. He can’t be your man.”

“Yes, he can.”

“No, he can’t.”

The little girl pouted, moving from her mother’s neck to Bridget’s. She pulled her small fingers through Bridget’s hair. “I’m gone wear a pink dress on my dates, Auntie Bridget. You should wear a pink one, too.”

Bridget giggled. “Girlie, you’ve got good taste. Come on,” she said, rising from the bedside and extending her hand in the child’s direction. “Come help me pick out the perfect shoes.”

Minutes later with shoes and dress in hand and little Alexa distracted in front of the television set, Bridget sat back against the bed. She leaned her head against Jeneva’s shoulder as her friend draped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“I’m too old for this, Jay.”

The other woman laughed. “No, you’re not. Thirty-eight is hardly old. Things happen for a reason and obviously this is your time. Stop worrying about it and go have some fun.”

“But…”

“But nothing,” Jeneva interrupted. “Darwin is a great guy! You like him and he likes you. You won’t know how far the relationship will go until both of you actually go through the motions of moving it someplace. So, go get pretty and just think about having a good time.”

Bridget nodded. “Were you this nervous with Mecan?”

“You remember how anxious I was,” Jeneva said with a light chuckle. “If you and Roshawn hadn’t been there to help me get ready I’d probably still be trying to figure out what to wear.”

“You did look good.”

“It was the scarf.”

The two women laughed.

“Okay,” Bridget said, moving to peer into the other room to check that Alexa was still planted in front of the cartoon station. She sat back down, drawing her legs up beneath her buttocks.

“What about sex?” she whispered. “I mean…you know…” She paused, taking a deep breath.

Jeneva smiled, shifting herself back against a pillow. “When you know it’s right there won’t be anything to worry about. You’ll know exactly what to do, and how to do it, and it will be the most amazing experience. Just trust your instincts.”

“But it’s been so long.”

“It hasn’t been fourteen years. I had a fourteen-year dry spell to make up for, remember?”

“Maybe, but the last time I was with a man was what? A year ago? And you remember how badly that turned out. That brother fumbled like it was his first time. I barely got a wham and a bam before it was all over. Instead of thanking me he should have been apologizing and begging for my forgiveness. That’s the last time I bother with anyone from the D.A.’s office.”

Both women suddenly burst out laughing at the memory. Jeneva clutched her chest, tears swelling in her eyes. “Okay…okay…” she sputtered as she sucked in air. “Okay, you have a point there.”

Bridget wiped her own eyes, tears of laughter misting her cheeks. “Exactly. What if it’s that bad?”

“It won’t be. It’s Darwin and he’s related to Mecan, and my Mac…well, you get the idea,” she said with a wide grin.

Bridget rolled her eyes.

“It’s not Darwin I’m worried about. What if I do something to turn him off? I might take my clothes off and he sees that I have cellulite on my thighs, or my breasts are too small, or…”

“Give it a rest!” Jeneva exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air. “Darwin likes you. If and when you two ever get naked with each other he will love everything about you. Trust that. Now go get dressed or you’re going to be late. And hurry up so I can see you before I have to take the girl home so her daddy can spoil her some before her bedtime.”

Bridget heaved another deep sigh and reached for her dress. “If you say so.”

As she headed toward the adjoining bathroom she turned back toward her friend and smiled. “Thanks, Jay. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Chapter 6

Bridget maneuvered her car through downtown Seattle toward the district of Madronas where Darwin lived. His directions were precise, right down to the mileage. She took the left and right turns onto Aurora and Denny Way, crossing over to Boren and Pike Streets until she pulled in front of his condominium unit.

The buildings were new Craftsman-styled townhomes with lots of curb appeal. The neighborhood was immaculate and decidedly upscale. There was an abundance of neighbor-friendly activity in the area and Bridget noted the couples and families out for an evening’s stroll or headed toward the quaint shopping district.

Easing out of her car, she hesitated for just a quick minute, pausing to adjust the back of her mint-green, A-line shift neatly against the length of her body. Her nerves had kicked into high gear somewhere around the intersection of 15th Avenue and Union Street. She felt nauseous, her stomach twisting in one hundred different directions. Good sense told her she was being foolish, but in that moment, anxiety was prevailing.

She hesitated one last time just before pushing the doorbell with a freshly manicured index finger. Darwin and the cutest Maltese puppy greeted her. Both seemed overly excited to see her and the minute Darwin smiled, her name floating over his lips, she felt at ease.

“Bridget, welcome,” the man gushed, the small dog squirming anxiously in his arms. “Come on in.” Darwin leaned to press a quick kiss on her cheek and Bridget suddenly thought about Alexa.

“Thank you. Who is this?” she asked, reaching to take the animal out of his grip. Pulling the bundle of fur to her chest, she hugged it easily, the dog’s exuberance igniting her own.

“That’s my guard dog. Her name’s Biscuit.”

“Hi, Biscuit. Aren’t you too cute!”

Biscuit yipped, delighted by the attention.

“I didn’t know if you liked pets or not. I was just about to lock her in my bedroom.”

“Don’t you dare! I love dogs. If I had the time to care for them I’d have two or three myself. I’m not partial to cats though,” she said, making a face.

Darwin found the gesture amusing and he chuckled, leading her into a tastefully decorated family room that was situated adjacent to an open kitchen area. Taking a quick glance around the space, Bridget was impressed with the custom cherry cabinets, stainless steel appliances and solid granite counters. Shiny, copper-bottomed pots hung from an intricate rack on the ceiling. They gleamed beneath the warm lighting, looking as if they’d never been used. The rich color of the Brazilian cherry floors also made a nice impression, and Darwin’s tastes were very simple, an eclectic mix of artifacts from his travels around the world.

Her eye was drawn to the painting over his fireplace and as she stood staring at it, the puppy cuddling comfortably against her chest, she could only shake her head.

“Why didn’t you tell me you collected Holston? That’s a wonderful piece!” she exclaimed, turning to stare at the man.

Darwin shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you. In fact, I actually tried to buy the one you have in your living room. You beat me to it. I ended up getting the one that’s in my bedroom instead. I’ll give you a tour later on so you can see it.”

She nodded as he gestured toward a plush recliner in the corner of the room. Just as Bridget moved to take a seat he stopped her. “That’s Biscuit’s favorite spot. Just drop her there.”

Bridget laughed. “Okay,” she said as she placed the dog on top of a pillow and watched as she settled herself comfortably down.

Darwin gave her a quick wink. “You can’t get comfortable yet. We have a meal to make. So, as soon as you wash your hands we can get started. I’m hungry.”

Bridget looked surprised, her mouth open slightly as she stood staring at him. “What happened to you cooking me dinner?”

The man’s warm laughter made her smile, a wide grin filling her face.

“I am cooking. You’re just going to help.” He pointed to the sink. “There’s plenty of soap in that dispenser,” he quipped, moving to wash his own hands.

As Bridget moved to his side, he continued talking. “When you’re cooking, it’s important to pay attention to basics such as hand-washing, proper storage temperatures and cleanliness. Food safety is critical. You don’t want to risk making anyone sick.”

“Really,” Bridget said with an eye roll, tossing him an annoyed look.

Darwin grinned down at her, the heat from his broad body spreading to her own. Shutting off the water, he pulled her hands into his, gently wiping away the dampness with a cotton towel. Bridget’s gaze met his as he brushed the soft fabric across her palms. “Most definitely,” he said, his voice dropping a half octave.

“So,” Bridget said, her voice cracking slightly as she moved to withdraw her hands from his, sidestepping her sudden wanting. “What are we cooking?”

Darwin chuckled. “Salad. You cut the tomatoes and I’ll prep the lettuce.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I kid? Are you afraid to make salad?”

Bridget raised her eyebrows. “No. I can make salad.”

“Good. We need a nice leafy vegetable to go with the beef short ribs and the corn bread.”

“I’m not cooking the ribs and the corn bread, I hope?”

“Oh, heck, no! Didn’t you tell me you could burn water?”

Bridget swatted a hand in his direction. “You’re not funny, Darwin. You’re not funny at all.”

The two laughed, chatting easily together as they put the finishing touches on the meal. Their conversation flowed like water, the joy of Bridget’s laugh warming his spirit. As they sat down to dinner he discovered they had much in common. Bridget was a jazz buff, her knowledge as proficient as his. They admired and collected the same visual artists, and she was an avid football fan, the Seattle Seahawks her favorite team. The mutual interest could make for some interesting Monday-night football games, he mused.

Bridget grinned as if thinking the same thing. She broke off a small piece of her cornbread and dipped it into a line of brown gravy that covered her plate. Lifting the delicacy to her mouth she ate it with gusto, even pausing to lick the tips of her fingers. She hummed softly and Darwin grinned back.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the meal,” he said, chuckling warmly.

“It’s very good,” she responded, laughter shimmering in her eyes. “I guess you can tell I do like to eat.”

“I like a woman who attacks her plate with such enthusiasm.”

Bridget laughed. “I don’t play when it comes to my food so you tease all you want, Darwin Tolliver. Your cute comments don’t faze me in the least.”

“What!” the man responded, feigning ignorance. “I was being serious. I wasn’t teasing.”

Bridget rolled her eyes as she lifted a glass of lemonade to her lips, sipping a taste of the ice-cold drink. She shook her head. “So, when did you know you wanted to be a chef?”

“I was twelve and my father had taken me and Mac to a barbecue competition in New Orleans. There was this old man there who was just working this old, beat-up grill he’d manufactured out of a metal barrel. We were standing in the crowd watching him and out of the blue he invited me and Mac to come taste test his chicken and steaks.” Darwin shrugged, his broad shoulders jutting skyward as he continued. “I was hooked from that moment on. I wanted to cook and feed people and enjoy the expressions on their faces when they’d been satisfied with a good meal.”

Bridget smiled. “What was the first thing you ever cooked?”

Darwin laughed. “It was a dish called Chicken of Seven Seasonings. I got the recipe from this old cookbook my mother had and thought I’d surprise the family by making dinner.”

“Were they surprised?”

“That’s putting it mildly. The meal was so bad that my father actually got up from the table, tossed his plate out into the yard to the dog and walked out of the house.”

“That’s awful!” Bridget exclaimed, her eyes widening.

The man shook his head. “Actually, the food was that bad. The dog wouldn’t even eat it,” he said with a hearty laugh.

Bridget shook her head, laughing with him.

“So why did you become an attorney?”

“My father. From the day I was born he would introduce me to people as his daughter, ‘the future attorney.’ He wanted me to be a lawyer and I wanted to please him.”

Darwin eyed her warily. “Now, Bridget, you don’t seem like the type of woman who does something simply because a man wants her to. Even if he is your father.”

“No,” she said, her mouth bending into a slight smile. “I’m not. But my daddy could be a very convincing man. He wanted to be a lawyer and it just never happened for him so he made it happen for me. I saw his love for the law and I eventually fell in love with it, as well.”

“And you like what you do? Practicing law makes you happy?” Darwin asked.

Bridget nodded. “Extremely,” she said, her gaze meeting his.

He was finding it difficult to take his eyes off of her. As she talked, her enthusiasm for her subjects radiated from her eyes, the dark orbs gleaming brightly. She asked a lot of questions about him, his career, his love of good food and his family. Her interest seemed to come from someplace genuine and the gesture filled his spirit.

He was interested in her, excited for the opportunity to discuss her career, her lifelong friendship with the two women who all referred to themselves as the Dynamic Divas and her family. And she made him laugh, her keen sense of humor a nice match to his own. They were joking about his dog as he began to fill the dishwasher with dirty dishes.

“So, why didn’t you get yourself a manly dog?” Bridget asked. “Something with a large bite?”

“What are you trying to say? Biscuit’s a manly dog!”

She laughed.

“I can’t believe you’re making fun of my animal. Keep it up and I’ll make her bite you. Then you’ll see how manly she is.”

“I’m so scared!”

“Get her, Biscuit!” Darwin chimed, pointing in Bridget’s direction. “Get her, girl!”

Biscuit looked from one to the other then laid her head back down against the cushioned seat.

Bridget burst out laughing again. “That sure is one dangerous dog!”

“She’s afraid if she bites you, she’ll catch something. I can’t fault her.”

“I beg your pardon!” Bridget exclaimed, her hands falling to her lean hips. “Oh, no, you didn’t!”

Darwin bumped his shoulder and arm against hers, teasing her side with his hip. “Oh, yes, I did.”

Bridget reached into the sink and flicked a palm full of water at him. Reaching for the sink’s sprayer, Darwin aimed it in her direction, laughing heartily as he prepared to shoot.

Giggling, Bridget ducked in defense. “Don’t you dare,” she said with a wry laugh, her hands posed defensively in front of her.

Reaching for her, Darwin pulled her body toward his, the two pretending to wrestle against each other. Biscuit barked excitedly from her seat, wanting to join in the fun. With a quick twist, Bridget claimed the sprayer and pumped the handle. Darwin jumped as cold water hit him squarely in the face and chest.

“Oops!” Bridget laughed.

Darwin sputtered, swiping at the moisture with the back of his hand. “You’re going to get it now,” he cried as Bridget dropped the sprayer back into the sink and raced into the family room. She positioned herself at one end of the chenille sofa, placing the upholstered unit between them.

They were playing like schoolkids racing in circles around the room. Darwin paused at the other end of the sofa, mischief painting his expression.

“What’s the matter?” Bridget asked, breathing heavily. “Can’t you catch me?”

“Oh, I will catch you!” Darwin exclaimed.

The moment was interrupted by the ringing telephone. The duo stood eyeing each other, both refusing to move as it rang a second and third time.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Bridget asked. “It might be important.”

Darwin grinned. “I have voice mail,” he responded, lunging toward her.

Bridget jumped out of his reach. The answering machine clicked twice then Darwin’s seductive voice filled the room. “I’m not in. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.” The machine beeped and a woman’s voice replaced his.

“Mr. Tolliver, this is Yvonne from Dr. Page’s office. Your sample of Viagra is ready for pickup, but the doctor would like to schedule an appointment to speak with you first. We’ll be back in the office tomorrow after eight o’clock, if you would please give us a call. Thank you.”

The answering machine clicked off, the sound of the tape rewinding suddenly piercing through the quiet. Even Biscuit could sense the quick change in atmosphere, a blanket of embarrassment clouding the room.

“Well,” Darwin said, clearing his throat. “If this isn’t an awkward date moment, I don’t know what is,” he said, turning back into the kitchen.

Bridget was at a loss for words as she followed behind him.

Darwin met her gaze as he returned back to the sink and the last of the dishes. His humiliation was acute and if it were at all physically possible he would have dug a deep hole in the center of the room and buried himself beneath it.

They continued to stare at each other as she eased into the room, moving to stand by his side. Reaching for the dishcloth, Bridget swiped the last bit of moisture from a freshly washed pot resting on the dryer rack. Darwin heaved a deep sigh.

“I guess I should have answered that call,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

Bridget smiled. “Sounds like you’ve got a personal problem,” she said smugly, humor brimming in her tone.

“Oh, so you’ve got jokes now.”

She shrugged. “It’s always been my experience that when something like this happens, if you can laugh about it, then you won’t be inclined to cry about it.”

Darwin leaned back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, now that you know my most embarrassing moment, what was yours?”

A moment of reflection crossed her face. Her smile widened to a full grin as she leaned against the countertop beside him. “I had just passed the bar exam and it was my first week with Hartley, Liebermann and Stone. All the attorneys were in our weekly review meeting and I was making a presentation on a new case I’d been assigned.

“I really thought I had things under control. New suit, Roshawn had done my hair the night before and I was working it. Well, I’m doing my thing and all of a sudden one of my new microbraids falls onto the conference table. Then another, and another, and before I realize it I have a trail of yaki hair following me around the room.

“One of the partners reaches down, picks one up, examines it, and says, ‘Miss Hinton, I think you’re shedding. Please see if you can get a handle on that problem before you have to go before Judge Baines. He’s bald as a cucumber and might think you’re poking fun at him.’ I was so embarrassed!”

Darwin laughed. “So, we will really laugh about this in a few years?”

“I thought we were laughing about it now.”

The man smiled, reaching to draw a warm palm against her arm. “Thank you.”

“Besides,” Bridget added, “you probably don’t remember, but this isn’t nearly as bad as when you and I first met and I tripped into the room, right into your mother’s lap. That was my second most embarrassing moment.”

Darwin closed his eyes, a faint smile pulling at his full lips. “But I do remember the first time I saw you,” he said softly, his voice just a hair shy of a whisper. “You were wearing a pair of those capri pants. They had a drawstring waist and your hands were pushed deep into the pockets. They were green, army green, and the shirt you wore was a pale floral print. It had these thin straps and one of them had fallen off your shoulder. I remember that I wanted to touch you. I was thinking that all I had to do was push that strap back onto your shoulder and that could be my excuse to touch you. I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” He opened his eyes and stared into hers. “Should I continue?” he asked, an air of seduction rising in his tone.

Bridget hadn’t expected the comment and she stood staring at him, her mouth parted ever so slightly as a look of awe washed over her expression. A wave of something she couldn’t quite name twisted slowly in the pit of her stomach. Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to speak. She inhaled deeply, then tried for a second time. “You have a good memory.”

Darwin grinned. “Only about the things that are important to me.”

The man continued to stare at her and the room suddenly felt as if it were spinning in slow motion. Darwin swallowed every inch of her with his eyes, his gaze stroking each curve and dip of her body. He could see her quiver and he stepped in closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tightly to him. Once she was in his arms he couldn’t begin to imagine the moment that he would have to let her go.

Bridget slid her palms over his biceps, the muscles solid beneath her touch. Her hands looked small against his arms and she felt safe and secure with them wrapped so tightly around her. She hugged her own arms around his neck and pulled him closer, lifting her mouth to his.

The kiss was tender, a sweet brushing of his mouth to hers. Neither moved, both lingering in the beauty of that first touch, the sensual glide of a duet they were starting to dance. Darwin deepened the embrace, drawing her even closer as he pressed his body anxiously against hers, his lips moving with more intensity against her mouth.

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