“Thank you,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek into his palm, her pulse fluttering at her temples and her wrists as she dropped her gaze to his mouth. She couldn’t help it. It was such a fine-looking mouth, and she wanted those lips on hers again.

She wanted to get to know every intimate detail of their lusciousness.

It took her a beat or two to realize he was staring at her mouth, and he seemed nearer, their bodies moving inexorably closer. Whether she had moved first or he had, she did not know nor care. She just wanted this kiss. She needed it.

It didn’t have to be like it was in Denver, she just needed the connection.

Heat poured off his body, his breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered closed. So did hers. Della’s pulse whooshed thick and loud through her ears, thudding at her neck and throbbing between her legs. An errant whimper slid from her mouth in anticipation.

And then a car door slammed outside, and Tucker, whose lips were like two heated brands hovering just above hers, pulled swiftly back, his eyes flying open. Cussing under his breath, he stripped the blanket away and practically sprang off the futon, striding to the kitchen.

Della watched him go with dismay, the muscles in her lower abdomen and her upper thighs screaming in disappointment. She stood. “Tucker?”

“It’s Arlo,” he said as he turned the faucet on and filled the bourbon tumbler.

And that was the moment Della made up her mind. When she knew what she had to do. If she and Tucker were going to start a bunch of hands-on sex-ed classes, then they needed privacy.

Which only left one option…

…

The front door opened abruptly, and Tucker started guiltily, even though he was as far from Della as was practical within the confines of the living area. But that didn’t mean his hard-on had quit or the aroma of cupcakes had stopped taunting him.

He should have lied. Should have told her he wasn’t attracted to her. Stuck to his guns. But he just hadn’t been able to this time. She’d looked at him with those blue, blue eyes, clearly wanting him to confirm that her instincts were right.

That she wasn’t imagining anything.

So he’d told the truth. I am attracted to you. Five little words, and there was no way he could put the cork back in this particular bottle now.

He wasn’t sure he would if he could.

Tucker swallowed half of the water in the glass as Arlo stomped his boots on the mat. “Hey man,” he called, concentrating on keeping his voice regular despite the tightness in his vocal chords. “Bet you could use a drink.”

Tucker sure as shit could. Hell, that entire bottle of Wild Turkey was looking pretty damn good.