“Michael, Laura. Michael. If you don’t have yours right back on him, you need to visit your optometrist.”

“I don’t have time for . . . all right, maybe I’ve looked.”

Margo set down a Waterford water glass and turned away. Progress, she thought, at long last. “And are you ready for a little push?”

Laura blew out a breath. “He wants to—He wants me.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

“No, I mean, he said it. Just like that. How do you respond to something like that?”

“There are a variety of ways. Let’s see, I believe I’ve tried them all.” Margo tapped a finger on her cheek. “Which of Margo’s ploys would you prefer?”

“I’m not looking for a ploy.” Because her knees kept disappearing on her, Laura sat down on the stool behind the counter. “Margo, I’ve slept with one man in my life. I was married to him for ten years. I don’t have any ploys, or ways, or answers.”

“No ploys, maybe, and good for you. But every woman has ways, and I think you have answers. Try this question. Are you attracted to him?”

“Yes, but—”

“The answer is yes,” Margo interrupted, and kept one eye on a pair of customers contemplating the jewelry in the display along the side wall. “You are a responsible, unattached adult female, who is attracted to an attractive unattached adult male.”

“That works fine if you’re a rabbit.”

“It can work fine for people, too. Laura, there aren’t any guarantees. You certainly know that. Yes, you could be hurt. You could also be happy. Or you could just get your oil checked.”

Snorting, Laura shook her head. “Sex has always been easier for you than me.”

“I won’t argue that, but I’m not particularly proud of it.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t. I’ve slept with more than one man. Some of them were married to someone else. Sometimes it meant something, sometimes it didn’t.” She could shrug it off now, without regret or recriminations, because she understood that everything she’d ever done had carried her toward where she was now. “Josh is the only one who really mattered.”

“Because you love each other,” Laura said quietly. “We’re not talking about love between Michael and me. It’s just plain lust.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“I can usually figure out what’s wrong with it, until he puts his hands on me, or kisses me.”

As far as Margo could see, that was an excellent sign. “And then?”

“Then I just want, and I’ve never wanted like that. Everything’s too hot, too fast.” She shifted uneasily—even thinking about it stirred something inside her. “It’s not comfortable.”

“Hallelujah!” With a chuckle, Margo leaned closer. “Surprise yourself, Laura, go down to the stables some night and jump him.”