“No, I’m good, thanks.” I feel completely at ease with Mrs. Brody and the words begin to flow without apprehension. “Matt speaks so highly of you and Mr. Brody and I think the fact that you were there for him when his mom died is pretty spectacular. You helped him make it through,” I say quietly, watching her face and her eyes shine with so much admiration and love that it takes my breath away.

She lets out a sigh that is happy, yet somehow tinged with a morsel of sadness. “Brenda was such a wonderful woman,” she begins, grabbing onto the table with one hand as if needing to brace herself for this conversation. “She was always there for them—playing, watching their games, encouraging and supporting them, talking them through the tough times…and when she passed….” She pauses and releases a breath. “They were devastated. I think Matt got it the worst because he saw how Clara and Brad were handling it and felt like he had to make it better for them.” She smiles and it lights up her eyes. “He’s such a good boy, well, good man. Do you know that when Caleb was still living in New York and my husband was traveling for business, Matt would come by here once a week to check that we were all okay and see if the kids needed any help with their studies, or really anything at all. He wanted to make sure we were taken care of.”

I smile at his thoughtfulness and my heart warms at her words.

“Even with all of his struggles, he’s grown into an amazing man and I’m very proud of him.” She stares at me and my cheeks flush in response. “You care about him.” It’s a statement not a question and she taps a finger to her lips as she waits for an answer.

“Yes, I do care about him…a lot. We’re having a nice time together. But, well, I go back to New York in eight days…back to my life.” The words leave my mouth and I feel as if I’ve eaten something rotten.

“Right. Matt mentioned that to me.”

He did?

She pats my knee with a warm smile, the kind of smile that tells you everything will be okay, the kind that makes you feel it, too. “One moment at a time, sweetie. Because in the end, that’s all we’ve got. So make the most of each and every one.” She stands up and heads to the fridge, looking over her shoulder at me. “I like you, Fran. You’re like a breath of fresh air. Matt hasn’t brought too many girls here over the years, but the ones that he has brought.…” She grimaces and shakes her head. “Well, they weren’t like you and me.” She winks like she just told me some big secret and holds the pie up in the air. “Let’s go eat pie!”

We trot back out to the living room just as Matt is coming down the stairs. He purposefully bumps into me and grins.

“Watch it, Dixon,” I warn, my lips quirking up into a teasing smile.

He grabs hold of my arm and pulls me close, his warm breath filling my ear. “When you say my name like that it makes me hard, and when I get hard I think about how much I want to fuck you. I’m so ready to be inside you, Fran, and if you’re not careful I might take you up to the guest room and spread you open right there. So choose your words carefully, baby.”

I let out a gasp I’m praying no one heard and shoot him a warning glare. “Mr. and Mrs. Body are right over there,” I whisper, and sure enough when I look up, Mrs. Brody is watching us with a pleased smile. Clearing my throat and willing away the desire unfurling between my legs, I link hands with Mr. Sex On a Stick and we plop down on the couch across from Mr. and Mrs. Brody.

It’s quiet for a minute as we all dig into the pie, Mr. Brody’s voice being the one to interrupt the silence. “So Fran, Matt tells us you’re in design, also.” And for the second time tonight I realize Matt’s been talking a lot about me and I grin internally at the thought.

“Yes, I work at Hudson & Mathers in New York. They’re an advertising firm, heavy into consumer branding and marketing campaigns. I like it a lot.”

“It’s interesting that you’re both in the creative field,” he says, his salt ‘n’ pepper eyebrows raising on a grin. “Quite a coincidence, I’d say.”

Mrs. Brody jabs her elbow into his side and he scowls, then takes a dollop of whipped cream and smashes it onto her cheek. She wipes it off and licks her fingers, and the way he’s eyeing her doesn’t go unnoticed, not by me anyway.

“Well,” Matt coughs rather loudly, as if that was a cue they want to be alone, “we should probably get going. It’s kinda late.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Brody says with a glimmer of disappointment as she glances at the clock behind the sofa, “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

I walk over to Mr. Brody and bend down to give him a hug. “It was so nice to meet you, Jim, and I hope you’ll be all healed up soon.”

“It was great meeting you, Fran, and I hope to see you again,” he says, tilting his head and glancing over at Matt with an approving smile, and my heart does a tiny pitter-patter in my chest.

We collect the plates and forks from the coffee table and I help Mrs. Brody bring them into the kitchen while Matt says goodbye to Mr. Brody. She stacks the plates on the counter and turns to me, her gaze wrapping me in a warm hug as she takes both of my hands in her own.

“I’m so pleased to have met you, Fran, and like Jim said, I do hope we see you again.” She looks down at our hands in hesitation and I can tell she wants to say something else. “Be good to our Matt. He’s one of a kind.”

She’s caught me a bit off guard and I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I reply with the only thing I have…honesty. “Yes, I’m starting to see that.”

My answer must have satisfied her because she nods her head and we wander back out to the living room where Matt’s waiting for us by the door. “Ready, sunshine?” he asks, and I catch the smile on Mrs. Brody’s face.

“Yup.”

She envelops Matt in a huge hug and then lathers me with the same affection. “I’ll see you soon, sweetie. Thanks again for helping with the bookcases,” she tells him before walking us outside. “We’ll see you soon. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” we both say, as Matt puts his arm around my waist and we make our way to the car, turning back to see Mrs. Brody standing in the doorway with yet another huge smile on her face.

“Matty!”

I hear a high-pitched scream and watch a petite, willowy silhouette bound toward us in the darkness, throwing her arms around Matt, nearly knocking him over and making me take a step back.

He returns the hug immediately, engulfing her small frame, lifting her off the ground. “Hey! Trace! I’m so glad to see you!” he says with excitement, finally setting her back down.

“I’m just here to pick up something. I’m off to the club with some friends.”

He glances over at me and brings me close to his side. “Fran, this is Tracy, Caleb’s sister, Tracy, this is Fran, my.…” He pauses, and I wait for the label. Friend? Girlfriend? Fling?

“Friend,” he says finally, but then adds, “a very special friend,” and I blow out the tiny breath I’d been holding.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, her eyes roving from Matt to me and back again.

“So how’s school?” he asks, and while they’re chatting I take her in, noticing how much she resembles Caleb with her dark hair and her almond-shaped brown eyes.

“It’s good. Studying hard as always.” She winks and Matt chuckles.

“Anyone’s ass I need to kick?”

“Not yet.” She laughs, playfully punching his shoulder. “But I’ll let you know. Okay, I gotta run. Brooke is waiting for me at her house. Nice meeting you, Fran. Bye, Matty.” She kisses his cheek and skips into the house, turning around to wave before plundering through the door.

Matt waves back and gets me settled before he climbs in, revs the engine and takes off down the road.

“I love them,” I say immediately. “They’re so incredibly sweet and it’s great how laid back they are. His sister, too. I see where Caleb gets his fun-loving spirit…and I see why you love them so much. They obviously adore you.”

“What’s not to adore?” he shoots back, and I let out a laugh, toeing off my sandals and tucking my feet under my legs.

“I learned some things about you tonight, Matt Dixon.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” he asks, rolling to a stop at a red light and angling his head so he can better see me.

“Well, I learned that your middle name is James and that you love chocolate cream pie, and….” I lower my voice, twiddling my fingers in my lap. “I learned that there’s so much sweetness in you.”

I hear his sharp intake of breath, and when the light turns green, he makes a quick right, pulling into what looks like the entrance to a park and quickly cutting the ignition. He unbuckles his seat belt and leans into me, curling his hand around the back of my neck as he guides my face closer and a shudder runs through me.

“I taste really sweet, too,” he says, his breath a soft whisper on my lips.

“Oh yeah…prove it,” I murmur, inching my lips closer to his, my tongue sneaking out to moisten them.

“Oh, sunshine, you know how I like dares,” he counters, his voice gruff, before sealing his lips over mine, taking my bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard. It’s just enough to leave a sting that he eases when his tongue glides back over it. I whimper at the torture because it feels so good, looping my arms around his neck to deepen the kiss and he groans, pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling him.

My dress bunches around my hips and I can feel how much he wants me, his erection pressing against the silk of my panties, and my skin suddenly feels hot all over because I want him, too…desperately.

He leaves my lips and trails his tongue down my jaw, dropping kisses all along my neck and I moan again, rubbing myself against him. “Fran.” His voice is breathy and desperate, too, while he continues to coat my throat with the warmth of his tongue. “I want you so badly,” he groans, and his hand moves from my lower back around to my bare thigh, his fingers brush my skin and I shiver, willing his hand to go higher. As if hearing my silent request, he begins a slow ascent, inching up my skin until he reaches the edge of my panties, circling his thumb, and I can’t help the sounds of arousal that are free falling from my mouth. He pushes the material aside, his thumb finding my clit, and I let out a jagged cry, his name the only thing on my lips.

“Matt….”

“Baby, you’re so wet…God, I wish I could lick you right now.”

“Matt,” I whimper again, loving the way he talks to me, the way he wants me, the desire oozing from his voice, pushing me toward the release I’m craving. I open my legs more, wanting this, so turned on that I can’t think straight. A coil inside me has snapped and I feel freer than I ever have and I know it’s because of him. After feeling nothing for so long, suddenly I’m feeling everything—and I want more of it, more of him. My hands tug at his hair and I pull his lips to mine, my mouth engulfing his tongue as my breathing speeds up and he spreads me open, inserting a finger inside of me. I ride his hand with wild abandon, his cock growing underneath me, his mouth fused with mine as we swallow each other’s moans.

I break the contact, my head falling back, my lips parting to let everything out. “Matt, I’m…so close—”

“Sunshine, look at me,” he says, and I lean forward to stare into eyes that even with only the dim lamplight are so piercing they strip me bare. He sees right through me—through all the bullshit, all the pain, all the hurt, and all that’s left is me…and yet, here he is, still wanting me.

He pushes harder against my clit, soaking me completely, my wetness dripping all over him. Another finger enters me and I’m lost, the pleasure overwhelming, my body clenching around him as I spiral out of control and let go screaming his name.

“Oh God, Matt!”

My head collapses onto his shoulder and I try to catch my breath, to come down from this amazing high but I can’t seem to collect myself. A tear trickles down my cheek, all these sensations mixed with my own rampant thoughts are colliding, an overload of emotions, of beautiful colors and blinding light. Matt has done more for me in six days than my therapist did for me in four years and I can’t seem to wrap my head around it. The connection I feel with him is unmistakable and it cuts into some deep part of me, a place that only he’s been able to reach. It’s like I’ve been playing hide and seek for so long, holding my breath, staying still and quiet, all the while secretly hoping someone would come and find me.

“Fran,” he says softly, and I respond immediately, lifting my head and gazing into his eyes. “Are you okay?”