Deliberately, teasingly, still looking over her shoulder, she eased them down. She felt like a snake shedding its skin. And knowing that Joe watched her every move made her body do a slow burn. She ignited as the curve of her ass cleared the fabric and she knew that everything she was now belonged to Joe. It always had.

The phone rang again, and Charlotte nearly tripped on the panties twisted around her ankles as she dived for it.

"I'm coming over there-now. Get ready."

"The dog."

"Hoover will wake the kids. Bring an ice-cream cone."

"Are you kidding me?"

Charlotte giggled and summoned her sexiest, throati-est voice. "Do you want me, Joe?"

"God yes."

"Do you want me right now, right this instant, naked and hot and shaking for you?"

Silence. Then, "You want sprinkles on that?"

The line went dead.

Joe had been in a number of tight spots over the years, and many of them required him to think on his feet But this was ridiculous.

He stood in the kitchen in a pair of boxers, harder than he'd ever been in his life, rooting through the cabinets for something-anything-that resembled an ice-cream cone.

It was nearly midnight on a Tuesday. The Creamy Whip stand was closed. And looking down at his full-mast state was all the reminder he needed that a trip to the convenience store was out of the question. He needed to focus. Focus.

A quick peek revealed no ice cream in the freezer, but he already knew that. The refrigerator featured beer, olives, yogurt, milk, and apples.

Yogurt. He pulled it out.

He ran to the pantry. Crackers. Coffee. A taco kit. Pretzels. Tomato soup.

Taco shells. He grabbed the box.

Then with shaking hands and a string of foul words, Joe got the cellophane off the package of tacos and spooned in several globs of vanilla yogurt. He held it up, gave it a quick examination, and figured a dog wouldn't know the difference.

Then he bolted out the patio door, threw open the privacy fence latch, and ran barefoot across the grass, pine needles, and driveway until he arrived, breathless, at Charlotte's back door.

She was waiting for him, wearing a little red silk robe and a huge smile, Hoover at her side.

Charlotte glanced down at the concoction in his hand and laughed. Her laugh sounded so damn good to him that he had to join her. But Hoover growled low and deep and bared his teeth and looked ready to bark his head off, so Joe shoved the yogurt taco next to his snout and they both waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, the dog began to lap at it with delicate little strokes of his tongue and they both sighed in relief. The yogurt was soon gone, and Hoover took one bite out of (he taco shell and spit it out, looking at Joe like he'd offended his palate.

"Will he stay quiet?"

Charlotte reached out and touched Joe's bare forearm. "I think so. You did good."

Joe dropped the taco shell and hooked a finger inside the lapel of her robe-her skin was hot and smooth and he felt ready to bust. "Where exactly is this going to happen, Charlotte?"

A shadow crossed her face. "I'm not sure. I can't leave and you really shouldn't come in."

Oh, this was just great. Joe looked around and noticed that the campout tent was still up. "Ever done it in a tent?"

"A long time ago."

"Can you grab a sleeping bag and a couple pillows?"

Charlotte nodded, then allowed her gaze to travel down the front of Joe's body. She bit her pretty pink bottom lip. Joe watched her breath come fast and hard.

"Can I help with anything, Charlotte?"

"No." She continued staring at his boxer shorts, then shook her head. "Hold on a second." Charlotte ran toward the mudroom and Joe watched her sweet little ass bounce around under the robe. She came back with two flash-lights and handed him one through the door.

"Make sure there aren't any spiders in there, and I'll see you in a minute."

"Hurry."

She gave him a serious nod. "I've haven't been in this big of a hurry in my whole life."

This was not exactly how she'd pictured it. Charlotte wanted candlelight and wine and she wanted to hold his hand and talk to him… then take him into her bed, where he'd remind her how it felt to be fully alive.

Instead, she had a couple couch pillows in her left hand, a SpongeBob sleeping bag in her right, a utility flashlight stuck in the sash of her robe, and she was running across the yard, barefoot, in the dark, praying she wouldn't step in dog poop.

She saw a flashlight beam bounce inside the tent and smiled. None of the details mattered, she supposed- because Joe was in there waiting for her. She was going to be his again.

Charlotte poked her head inside the tent flap and saw him sitting cross-legged on the tarp, peering into an open bag of marshmallows. He looked up and smiled at her.

"Care for a fresh hors d'oeuvre?"

"No thanks."

He jumped to his feet and removed everything from her arms, then took her hand and led her inside. She watched his body move in the flashlight beam as he stashed the marshmallows into the corner of the tent, spread out the sleeping bag, arranged the pillows, and eventually lay on his back with his arms tucked under his head, smiling at her like he planned to make her the happiest woman alive.

Some men are put on this earth simply to make women happy.

"Oh, my," she breathed.

Where Kurt's body had been big and brawny and male, Joe's was like fine art, and seeing Joe stretched out nearly naked caused the floor of her abdomen to open like a trapdoor, and her heart fell through it. Seeing the long, defined muscles in his arms and legs made her knees go wobbly. Seeing how his black eyes flashed and his white teeth gleamed made her want to cry out.

Here he was-her dark stranger. In the flesh.

"Come lie with me, Charlotte."

"I'm scared."

"It's just me."

"I don't know you."

"You know me better than anyone."

She dropped to her knees, the silk robe covering her thighs. His hand brushed her knee and his fingers insinuated under the hem, parting the silk.

"Why did you get divorced, Joe? What happened?"

Joe's eyes shut, but his hand still explored her skin. "I want to tell you everything, Charlotte. But I'd like to do it later."

Charlotte tilted her head and studied him, She had a feeling that getting to know Joe was going to be like peeling back layers of an onion the size of Ohio.

"I haven't been with a man in over eighteen months, Joe."

He smiled. "I'm damn happy to hear it."

"I'm just not used to this."

"I'm glad."

Charlotte grinned at him. "So you want to be my first again?"

"Hell yes." He slid his hand up the inside of her left thigh, and his touch made her shiver. "I plan to be your first and your last."

She laughed at that. More of his intense sex play, it seemed.

Joe frowned. "I'm completely serious. For thirteen years I hated the thought of any man putting his hands on you. It made me insane. I want to be your man, Charlotte. Don't you know yet that I was supposed to be your man?"

Her laugh died. Her whole body shuddered. "Joe-"

"I only wish I'd found you sooner."

"I wasn't ready to be found, Joe." She smiled sadly at him. "I married Kurt. I had the kids I was supposed to have. I wasn't ready for you to find me."

"Until now," he said.

"Until now," she said.

His other hand reached up to stroke the line of her jaw. She turned into his touch, rubbed into his palm, and closed her eyes at the pleasure in that simple gesture.