“What’s back here—the restrooms?” Sera asked as she headed for the rear of the store. A beaded curtain with an image of Ingres’s La Grande Odalisque hand-painted upon it hung across a discreetly placed doorway. Maybe that “back room” Pauline had mentioned so offhandedly a few minutes ago?

Pauline beamed. “Why don’t you have a look?” She placed a palm on Sera’s spine and steered her through the doorway, flipping on a wall switch as they parted the beads.

Sera was confronted with wall-to-wall wieners.

Rubber. Latex. Glass. Metal. In every shape, color, and size—and then some.

Damn it. I thought I was done with dildos, Sera thought, stomach sinking. The sight of sex toys brought nothing but humiliating memories for her.

Pauline moved deeper into the room ahead of Sera, turning on more lights.

It was a temple devoted to the Big O. Every tool the imagination could envision in service to this laudable objective existed in some form or other on the shelves and in the display cases in the windowless room. Images ranging from the instructional to the downright lascivious papered the walls, with geishas, Greek figurines, and Kama Sutra postures at every turn.

Sera’s blush burst into flames, especially when she felt Asher’s presence filling the space behind her. She wanted to back up, but was already perilously close to connecting with his sinewy frame as it was.

Yikes, did he see me ogling that… wait, what the heck is that thing?

“I suppose you’ll want to shut it all down now,” Pauline said glumly, interrupting her niece’s horrified/fascinated reverie. “I know you’re—forgive me, dear—but you’ve always been a bit of a prude in this regard.”

Sera shot Pauline a look that would have quashed a more sensitive woman. But Pauline just patted her on the arm as if to say, None of us is perfect, dear.

Sera wanted to sink through the floor with mortification. Just what I needed to start out my new life in Santa Fe, she groaned inwardly,a reputation for having a stick up my ass. Er, maybe not such a great analogy—eek, anal-ogy!—to think of when surrounded by butt plugs. Her blush was physically painful now.

“Well, I… I mean, what I had in mind for the store doesn’t exactly, um, dovetail with this, ah…” At a loss for a descriptive adjective, Sera gestured lamely at a series of strap-ons.

Behind her, Asher made a rumbling noise that sounded suspiciously like stifled laughter. At the sound of his merriment, Sera’s spine experienced a shiver of awareness that wasn’t a bit unpleasant.

“I understand, dear.” Pauline sighed. “But I must tell you, the contents of this room were an invaluable resource for the women of this community. What income we did draw from the shop mainly came from sales of these pleasure enhancements. I can’t tell you how many times we received thank-you notes from ladies swearing we’d revolutionized their sex lives. Saved a lot of marriages, too.”

“I’m sure,” Sera murmured, eyeing what looked like a nubbly pink jellyfish attached to a series of elastic straps. Where do you put tha… oh.

“I can personally vouch for that one, dear,” said Pauline, following Serafina’s scandalized gaze.

Now Sera did retreat a step or two, but the heat from her next-door neighbor brought her up short. As she peeked over her shoulder, she saw he was braced casually with one arm on either side of the door frame in a posture that showed off his physique to mouthwatering advantage. She could feel his warm, minty breath on the sensitive juncture of her neck and shoulder.

Sex toys ahead of me, boy toys behind. It was certainly not how Sera had envisioned her afternoon unfolding. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh, pray for a teleport to whisk her away, or pass out from sheer sensory overload. Having spent the past year burying all thoughts of a sensual nature, devoting herself to work, recovery, and little else, Sera was unprepared for the effect the back room, and Asher’s presence in it, was having on her.

With an effort, Sera turned around. Her head was barely level with Asher’s neck, he was so tall. But that was fine—it meant she didn’t have to look him in the eye. “Excuse me, please,” she muttered, gesturing politely for him to stand aside. “I think I’ve got the gist of the place now. Quite a dichotomy between what you see in the main room and what’s in stock in the back, that’s for sure!” God, I must be nervous, she thought. I couldn’t sound more like a Victorian schoolmarm if I strapped on a bustle and started rocking the granny boot look.

Asher was more colloquial, though perhaps his command of English was a tad questionable.

“That’s Pauline’s House of Passion for you. Prim and proper up front, orgasms in the rear,” he commented innocently.

A voice channeling Beavis and Butthead giggled sophomorically in Sera’s mind. Heh-heh. He said “orgasms in the rear.” Her face flamed. Get a grip, Serafina, she admonished herself. Grown women don’t freak out at the sight of a few vibrators.

Since Asher seemed to be taking his time moving out of her way, Sera ducked under his arm and squeezed by, taking a welcome breath of nonsexualized air when she reached the main space. Pauline trotted up behind her, hands on hips and a hopeful expression on her face.

“So what do you think, kid?”

“Think?” Sera was finding it rather hard to think at the moment, actually. “Well, the space is amazing,” she said when she’d gathered her wits. “What we can make of it—well, I have some ideas, but I want to hear what you think first. I don’t want to railroad you out of something you love, Aunt Paulie. I can see how much this place has meant to you, and I want to honor that. As far as I’m concerned, you should make the final decision on what happens with the shop.”

Pauline’s sharp brown eyes softened and her face glowed. “I raised a wonderful niece,” she trilled. “Didn’t I, Ash?”

Asher hopped up to sit on the mahogany counter and grinned, arms bracing his weight behind him in a way that emphasized his broad shoulders and corded arms. “Indubitably,” he affirmed.

Sera shot him a suspicious glance, but there was no trace of a leer on his face, and he seemed quite sincere—even detached. Inexplicably, disappointment flared within her. Though she had no intention of becoming distracted from her dream by another charismatic male, she found herself wishing that this one was flirting with her. But if there was any trace of chemistry in the air, it was apparently one-sided. He was being charming—engaging even—but definitely not suggestive.

“Well, kiddo,” Pauline continued, “the sad fact is, since Hortencia, I’ve lost a bit of my customary mojo. And I ain’t getting any younger. I haven’t got the energy—and let’s face it, I never had the business savvy—to keep P-HOP going the way it should, but I’d be sorry to see my dream die out entirely.” A hint of deliberate mystery colored her voice, telling Sera she had something on her mind.

Her aunt might look like a Grateful Dead camp follower, but Sera was beginning to suspect the old gal hadn’t lost her edge.

“Spill it, Pauline,” she commanded.

“We-lllll,” Pauline drawled, enjoying the moment, “your specialty is giving people pleasure, right?” She waited expectantly, like the retired professor she was.

Sera was willing to bite, despite her awareness of the interested audience observing their exchange. “I guess that’s one way of putting it. My desserts are definitely made to invoke all the senses and delight the palate.” She hoped she didn’t sound like too much of a prima donna. Still, her confections did deserve a certain gravity. They were that good. Modest Serafina might be about her own attributes, but her baked goods were out of this world.

Pauline wasn’t put off by Sera’s hesitance. She beamed at Sera and Asher alike. “The way I see it, I’ve been doing the same thing, just working in a different medium. So I thought, what if your new shop included both sinful desserts and earthly delights?”

“You mean… cupcakes in the front, climaxes in the back?” Sera asked incredulously.

“Chocolate produces the same endorphins as sex, I’ve heard,” Asher put in helpfully from his perch on the counter.

“Oh, is that what you’ve heard?” Sera shot back, a smile quirking her lips when Asher mugged an innocent expression. But only half her mind was on her new neighbor, for a wonder.

She was beginning to see the possibilities…

Considering her “shortcomings,” Serafina had never had the slightest inclination to frequent a pleasure palace, let alone become the proprietor of one, be it ever so genteel. But now… Ever since her aunt’s distress call, Sera had sensed she was facing another crossroads in her life—not as dramatic as her decision to get sober, certainly, but perhaps even more profound. Her life in New York was unsatisfying, to say the least. She had gotten her one-year chip just a couple months ago, and was only just beginning to see the “promises” spoken of among the recovery community come true in her own life. She’d stabilized, sure—but in a lot of ways she was still the same scared, insecure girl she’d been before she’d picked up the bottle and lost so many years to it. One of the things she had learned, watching others who had the sorts of lives she wanted for herself, was that those who were happiest were the ones who were open to life’s possibilities, and who challenged themselves to accept new things, however scary they might be.

Maybe it was time to live up to her surname and do something wild. Something totally out of character. Never mind that she was hardly one to speak on the subject of orgasm aids—Pauline could take care of that aspect. Sera had absolutely no intention of letting Pauline retire, gracefully or otherwise, and she suspected Pauline herself wouldn’t have it any other way. They’d be the dynamic duo of sensual gratification! And Sera would be someone who proudly owned a streak of mischief, instead of someone who buried her joie de vivre beneath a stifling blanket of timidity.

Yes. This is what I want.

Sera’s inner certainty, absent for the last several years—hell, since she’d met Blake Austin—returned. It didn’t sneak back a bit at a time; it flung open the door, tossed its hat and coat on the sofa, and announced itself “home!” in a loud, Ricky Ricardo voice. She could do this. And she could have the time of her life in the process.

“Two great tastes that taste great together, huh?” she said with a grin spreading across her face.

“Exactly, kiddo.”

“But what would we call it?”

“How about Climactic Cupcakes?” Pauline offered.

“Little Death by Chocolate?” Sera countered.

They both smiled.

“Bliss,” said Asher.

“Yes? You want to weigh in, Mr. Wolf?”

“I thought I just did,” he corrected with a smile. “And please, no need to be so formal. Call me Asher, or Ash—I won’t bite.”

Said the wolf, thought Serafina.

“What I meant was, I think you should name the store after what it offers, and who’s offering it. Call it Bliss.”

There was a moment of silence.

“It’s perfect!” Pauline cried. She clapped her hands with girlish glee. “Leave it to the stud to call it like it is. Good job, Gorgeous.”

Asher just grinned that stupendously engaging grin, tipping his hat once more.

Sera had to admit, the name was perfect. But she didn’t want to give Asher a big ego—his looked healthy enough as it was. “I’ll think about it, you guys. We still have a lot to consider before we can be sure this will work out. Permits, zoning, financial stuff—I’ve got a lot of research and number crunching to do.”

Sera dusted off her hands and took a last look around. She didn’t want to admit it aloud just yet, but her heart was soaring. For the first time in as long as she could remember, the future looked exciting. Challenging, sure. But so, so promising. Eyes sparkling, she gestured for the others to precede her out of the shop and then shut off the lights after them. As the door closed behind them, she felt a sense of rightness—of certainty. She’d be back soon to honor the gift—and opportunity—Pauline was providing her with.

“I would be happy to help with the store in any way I can. Please, be welcome to visit me at any time, Bliss,” Asher said as he locked up after them. “I’m always just next door.”