‘‘I don’t need you to watch out for me. We’re all grown up, both of us. We’re alone, both of us.’’ She stepped closer. She could smell his after-work shower on him, but under it, as always, was the scent of the Bay. ‘‘I don’t want to be alone tonight.’’

He edged back. If he hadn’t known her better, he’d have sworn she was stalking him. ‘‘I’ve made up my mind on this.’’ But damn it, it wasn’t his mind working overtime, it was his loins. ‘‘Just stay back, Grace.’’

‘‘It seems like I’ve been staying back forever. I want to move forward, Ethan, whatever that means. I’m tired of staying back or standing still. If you don’t want me, I’ll live with that. But if you do . . .’’ She moved closer, lifted a hand to lay it on his heart. And discovered that his heart was pounding. ‘‘If you do, then why won’t you take me?’’

He backed hard into the counter. ‘‘Stop it. You don’t know what you’re doing here.’’

‘‘Of course I know what I’m doing.’’ She snapped it out, suddenly furious with the pair of them. ‘‘I’m just not doing a good job of it, since you’d rather climb up my kitchen wall than lay a finger on me. What do you think I’d do, shatter into a million pieces? I’m a grown woman, Ethan. I’ve been married, I’ve had a child. I know what I’m asking you, and I know what I want.’’

‘‘I know you’re a grown woman. I’ve got eyes.’’

‘‘Then use them, and look at me.’’

How could he do otherwise? Why had he ever believed he could? There, standing in shadow and light, was everything he yearned for. ‘‘I’m looking at you, Grace.’’ With my back to the wall, he thought. And my heart in my throat.

‘‘Here’s a woman who wants you, Ethan. One who needs you.’’ She saw his eyes change at that, sharpen, darken, focus. On an unsteady breath, she stepped back. ‘‘Maybe I’m what you want. What you need.’’

He was afraid she was, and that telling himself he could and would do without had been an exercise in futility. She was so lovely, all rose and gold in the candlelight, her eyes so clear and honest. ‘‘I know you are,’’ he said at length. ‘‘But that wasn’t supposed to change anything.’’

‘‘Do you have to think all the time?’’

‘‘It’s getting hard to,’’ he murmured. ‘‘Right at the moment.’’

‘‘Then don’t. Let’s both stop thinking.’’ Even as the blood pounded in her brain, she kept her gaze locked on his. And lifted her hands, trembling hands, to the top button of her dress.