In a delirium of pleasure, Lucy rolled, scrambled, and knocked Nell flat on her back. Zack was fast, but not quite fast enough to keep her from being leaped on and licked.

“Jesus, Lucy. No! Hey, I’m sorry.” Zack shoved at the dog and lifted Nell to her feet one-handed. “You okay? Did she hurt you?”

“No. I’m fine.” She’d had the wind knocked out of her, but that was only part of the reason for breathlessness. He was brushing at her while the dog sat, head down, tail cautiously thumping. He was, Nell noted, frustrated and concerned. But not angry.

“You didn’t hit your head, did you? Damn dog weighs almost as much as you do. Banged your elbow a little,” he added, then realized she was actually giggling. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just sweet the way she’s pretending to look ashamed. She’s obviously terrified of you.”

“Yeah, I take a bat to her twice a week whether she needs it or not.” He ran his hands lightly up and down Nell’s arms. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” It struck her then that they were now standing very close, almost embracing. And that his hands were on her, and her skin was much too warm from them. “Yes,” she said again and took a deliberate step in retreat. “No harm done.”

“You’re sturdier than you look.” There were long, lean muscles in those arms, he noted. He’d already admired the ones in her legs. “Come on inside,” he said. “Not you,” he added, pointing at the dog. “You’re banished.”

He scooped Nell’s shoes up from the ground and walked toward a wide porch. Curious, and unable to think of an excuse not to follow, Nell went through the screened door he opened and into a big, bright, messy kitchen.

“It’s the maid’s decade off.” Comfortable in his own clutter, he set her shoes on the floor and went to the refrigerator. “Can’t offer you homemade lemonade, but we’ve got some iced tea.”

“That’s fine, thanks. It’s a wonderful kitchen.”

“We use it mostly for heating up takeout.”

“That’s a shame.” There were acres of granite-toned counters, and wonderful rough-hewn cabinets with leaded-glass fronts. A generous double sink with a window over it offered a view of the inlet and the sea.

Plenty of storage and work space, she mused. With a little organization and a bit of imagination, it would be a marvelous . . .

We? He’d said “we,” she realized. Was he married? She’d never thought of that, never considered the possibility. Not that it mattered, of course, but . . .

He’d flirted with her. She may have been out of practice and short on experience, but she knew when a man was flirting.