Joe Mills-everyone's favorite warm body.

He'd gone over the situation in his head so many times that his brain hurt and had decided just moments earlier that he really should talk to Charlotte, tell her a little bit about what was going on in his life, enough that she could make an informed decision.

He just couldn't bear the thought of ever doing anything that would hurt her.

As Joe glanced at the house full of people, he realized their little chat would have to wait. Then he sensed that something had changed. And as Hank ran through the kitchen in a little black ballet outfit and raced toward him, Joe felt like he'd walked onstage in the middle of act 2.

Then it registered. It was Charlotte. She was completely different-transformed. She was looking at him with naked greed. Desire. Not a trace of ambiguity anywhere. It was like she'd decided to stake her claim and stake it now.

The force of it knocked the air right out of Joe's lungs-but that could have been the impact of Hank's little body, which had just thudded against him. Her chubby arms were squeezing him around the hips.

He blinked at Charlotte.

Then, with a little smile barely pushing up the corners of her mouth, Joe felt her slide her gray gaze up and down his body like she was painting him with long, steady strokes of a brush. It was a blatantly sexual move. His favorite kind.

Then he realized he didn't know the woman standing just inches away from him at the back door. He was about to introduce himself when he let out a startled laugh. LoriSue should go into undercover work.

He nodded at her in approval. "Nice," he said.

"Thank you," she whispered back.

He watched a hot wave of embarrassment wash over LoriSue, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She was married to Jimmy Bettmyer. Nobody deserved that fate. And Joe hoped to God that this drastic makeover wasn't for him. Yes, she looked about five hundred times more attractive than she did a couple weeks ago, but the look didn't reach out and grab him.

His gaze returned to Charlotte and he smiled at her.

The only woman he wanted-the only woman he'd ever really wanted-was Charlotte.

She shot a full-throttle smile right back at him and he felt his insides melt. He knew right then, as his hands patted Hank's red curls and his eyes couldn't leave Charlotte's face, that he was, in fact, falling in love with her.

"Joe?" Charlotte said. "Can I ask you something?"

Matt burst into the room at that instant and waved his baseball glove in the air. "Hey, Joe!"

"Hey, Matt."

"Hey, Joe," said another voice.

"Hey, Justin."

"Yo, Joe," said Bonnie.

"Yo, Bonnie."

And Joe sensed that whatever Charlotte was about to ask. him was going to be big-life changing, even-yet she was brave enough to ask him in front of all these people.

He gave her his full attention. "Yes?"

Charlotte tilted her head and said sweetly, "You any good with a spatula?"

As a matter of fact, he was damn good with a spatula. But he suspected they weren't talking about the same thing.

Charlotte watched Bonnie's Toyota head down the drive with Hank buckled in the backseat, followed by LoriSue's BMW, Matt waving to her out the rear window. And suddenly they were alone, just Charlotte and Joe, in the driveway.

She could feel him, though he wasn't touching her. It was the memory of his touch that she felt, the ghost touch she'd lived with for all these years. But he stood right next to her now. All she had to do was reach for him, and he'd be real.

The thought left her breathless.

"Charlotte, we need to talk."

"No more talking, Joe. I want to kiss you."

She heard Joe make a little strangled squeak. "There's something I should tell you first." He took a step away. "Slow down just a second."

She couldn't help herself-she laughed. She reached out and touched the silky sleeve of his polo shirt, staring at how her fingers played on the hem of the fabric, noticing how pale her hand looked near his rich brown skin. It occurred to her that he really should change clothes before his stint at the grill, because this nice shirt would be ruined. She'd tell him that in a minute. Right now, she wanted to put her lips on him. And they had about ten minutes before they absolutely had to be on their way. The two of them could accomplish a lot in ten minutes.

"You know, Joe…" Charlotte raised her eyes to him. She could see him holding back. His jaw was clenched. His lips were tight. She saw the air rushing in and out of his nose-like a bull trying his best not to charge. "Things have been mighty slow for me the last thirteen years." ^ One of his eyebrows twitched.

"I don't think I want slow anymore."

The other eyebrow twitched.

"In fact, I'm damn sick of slow."

Joe shifted his weight and licked his lips, never taking his black eyes off hers. Those eyes held that familiar look of entitlement, along with a touch of surprise. The look advised her to be damn sure of what she was doing, because there would be no turning back.

She remembered that look. She liked that look.

"Do I have to ask for it, Joe?"

His eyes got big.

"Because I'll beg for it if you want me to."

Joe's lips parted. The man looked stunned.

"Give it to me, Joe," she whispered. She pressed her body up against his and used her tongue to lick up the front of his silky polo shirt, her eyes locked on his.

Joe let out a sigh and a moan and took a step in to her and just kept walking. Charlotte strained her neck to keep focused on his face, now so close, and reached her arms behind her in case he backed her into the side of the house.

Which is exactly what he did. She hit the siding with a thud.

"Ask for it again, Charlotte."

She stood on tiptoe. She reached her arms up over his shoulders and hooked them around his neck. She smiled at him. She grabbed a handful of his hair. And pulled him down close.

"Please," she breathed. "Kiss me, Joe."

She attacked him like he was a Honeybaked Ham. Like he was her first decent meal in more than a decade. Which he was.

Joe's hands were all over her bottom and the back of her thighs. He was kneading her, pushing her on, and on she went, kissing him, eating him, as snippets of her poetry and their recent conversations floated through her mind and propelled her kiss into higher gear- "meat…" "slut…" "ladylike little split fruit…" "perkiest little pink cherry nipples…" "lying in wait…"

Charlotte jumped him-just threw her legs around his waist and gloried in the feel of his hands clamping her butt. Joe pulled her tight against him and ground her against the wall with his pelvis.

Her head hit the siding, and a dull discomfort radiated down her neck to her shoulders only to be erased by the searing pleasure, pleasure that had no beginning and no end because of this mouth, this tongue, this man. All over her.

"Oh God, Joe," she whispered against his kiss. Joe's arms went tight around her. She couldn't get close enough. It was as if she wanted to push herself inside him, obliterate her own being, and become part of him.

"I've wanted you forever," he said, his hands in her hair, his kisses moving across her cheek and down her throat and onto her collarbones. "I've missed you the last couple days, Charlotte. The last thirteen years."

"God, I've missed you so much, Joe."

The kissing stopped and they just held each other. Joe propped his chin on her shoulder and hugged her so hard she thought she heard the crunch of the cartilage between her ribs. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but that Joe was real and he was in her arms again.