“You okay?”

“I am. I’m nervous, but not bad nervous. Just all keyed up.” She pushed the bowl away. There were too many butterflies in her stomach, no room for soup.

Mike left his side of the counter to rummage in the freezer. He shut the door and handed her an ice-cream sandwich. She had to smile at that. “Thanks.”

“Gotta keep your strength up.”

The ice cream tasted more right than the soup: decadent, in keeping with the evening. Chicken soup – what had she been thinking? Save the comfort food for the flu.

In a couple of hours’ time she was going to sleep with a relative stranger while her husband watched. Why on earth was she letting herself get worked up over gas and a bit of water weight? She licked grooves into the sides of the sandwich, as she had as a kid, licked deep enough that the soft chocolate cookie sheets could be sealed together like a ravioli. Only then did she let herself bite in and enjoy both textures together.

Mike did the dishes and stowed the leftovers, giving Sam the luxury of taking a long, thorough shower, scrubbing and shaving and exfoliating all her nooks and crannies. Each and every one was on Bern’s personal menu for the evening.

She used the expensive lotion her mother had given her for her birthday… surely not with these preparations in mind. It smelled good, like vanilla and rum. Bern’s dessert, she thought as she plugged in her styling brush. She got her hair as shiny and perfect as she might for a wedding. Funny, when the only vows involved in tonight’s festivities were the ones she and Mike planned on desecrating.

“Looking good.”

She jumped at his voice, then rolled her eyes at herself for being so wound up. She stowed the brush and met his gaze in the mirror. “Thought I’d make an effort.”

Mike came in and leaned on the counter as she did her makeup. “Can I get you a glass of something?”

“Oh God, yeah. Please. Wine. A big one.”

He laughed and disappeared, returning with her order. Sam took a gulp and finished up her mascara, plucked a stray brow. Mike followed as she went to the bedroom. He sat on the bed and watched as she got dressed – deep blue underwear, a casual, silvery gray dress with beading along the bust. She auditioned a few pieces of jewelry, settling on a black pearl necklace. Plus her wedding ring, of course, which she shined on her hem.

“You go to all this trouble before our dates?” No true jealousy edged Mike’s tone, just a playful chiding.

“Yes, I did. More, in fact – I was still into waxing back then.”

He rose and stepped close to run his palms down her sides. “Damn, you look good.”

She smiled at him, smoothing his T-shirt along his firm shoulders, stroking his arms. If he was a leg man, she was an arm girl.

“What about you?” she asked. “You get yourself all gussied up special for me back when we were a-courtin’?”

“Do extra reps in the gym count?”

“Oh my, yes.” She squeezed his biceps, her favorite of all his fine features.

“Then I did indeed.”

“What time is it?”

Mike checked his cell phone. “Twenty minutes.”

“Hooo.” She shook out her hands and let loose a deep breath, willing the fearful excitement to stay at a manageable level. She shouldn’t be this worked up. After the last time, she knew Mike was truly into it, as was she. As was Bern. Still…

“Jesus, I’m nervous.”

“That’s good. Pretend you’re nervous about me coming home and catching you with him.”

“I could.” She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, I will.”

Tonight, Mike would once again be hiding in a bathroom, this time the half bath in the downstairs hall. Once Bern arrived and things were getting hot and heavy, he’d sneak upstairs to the bedroom threshold and watch for a bit before asserting himself. Or before Sam pretended to spot him, caught in the act – whoever found the balls to break through the fourth wall first.

They headed back to the living room and Mike poured himself a bourbon. Sam was tempted to drain her glass and have another, but chances were Bern would want a little something to get loose, and if she joined him, she’d be three sheets to the wind and probably trip trying to get her dress off. Or tip over and clock her head on the corner of the dresser, leaving Bern and Mike to suffer a very awkward introduction as they waited for the ambulance.

At eight-oh-two, the bell rang.

All the relaxation Sam had found in her wineglass fled like a frightened bird.

Mike kissed her cheek. “See you soon.” He headed for the bathroom, leaving her shaking in her heels, ever the unprepared hostess. She walked to the front, pausing at the mirror in the hall, checking her teeth for wine blackening, hurrying on. What must Mike make of all her clomping from the closed bathroom?

A knock at the door emptied her brain. She strode to answer it in a state of eerie calm. The door swung in, and there he was.

Dear God.

Had ever a man been made who looked this good in jeans and a work shirt, hair tousled, face unshaven? Flowers and a bottle of wine accompanied him.

She smiled and accepted the tulips. “Hello. And thank you.”

“Hello yourself.”

Now get inside before a neighbor sees you wooing me.

Bern did as her brain begged and she locked up behind him.

“You look amazing.” He wasted no time, leaning down to kiss her, slow and seductive. Heat moved through her at the taste of his mouth, lust snaking low, hot and heady. After a wooze-inducing moment, she managed to pry herself away. She took the wine from him, body tugged in two clashing directions – arousal and anxiety. But she could feel the nerves easing. She’d underestimated this man’s ability to draw out her sensual, slinky side.

“Would you like a glass?” she asked, holding up the wine.

“Sure.” He followed her to the kitchen and gestured for the bottle. “Let me.”

She found him the corkscrew and two glasses, busying herself with arranging the flowers in a vase. She stage-whispered, “He’s in the first-floor bathroom.”

Bern nodded and slid her glass across the counter, leaning in on his elbows. “So. When’s he due home?”

Game on. “Not for a couple of hours.”

Looking smug, he toasted the notion with a clink of his glass against hers.

“It’s been ages since I’ve been brought flowers.”

“That’s a shame.”

And a lie. Mike had sent her roses at work not even two weeks ago to celebrate a small promotion she’d earned. Man, had he ever gotten laid that night.

“It’s been ages since he’s given me a lot of things.” She looked straight into Bern’s eyes and sipped her wine.

“Maybe I can make up for some of those shortcomings tonight.”

“Maybe.” She gave him a wicked grin, anxiety gone. She wished he were wearing a necktie so she could draw him across the counter and kiss him. Not that Mike could see. Studying Bern’s shoulders and chest through his T-shirt, a wave of gratitude swept over Sam, leaving her momentarily misty. She got to have sex with this man. Some husbands might spoil their wives with a trip to the spa, but she got to indulge herself with another man’s body. A gorgeous body. A more enticing, decadent weekend getaway she couldn’t imagine.

Bern set aside his glass as she rounded the counter. She stroked one hand over his arm, sipped her wine with the other. “This is very nice,” she said, gaze moving all down his front.

“It’s Chilean.”

She grinned. Neither of them really believed she was speaking about the vintage. His warm palms slid down her sides to her hips, the sheer size of them thrilling her.

“You look great.”

“Thanks. A bit overdressed, maybe.”

“I don’t mind.” His eager gaze moved down her body and up again. “You look like a present, waiting to get unwrapped.” He looked exactly like what he was – an electrician sent to rewire her with his rough, capable hands.