“For coffee, you can drive me anywhere.”

IN UNDER FIFTEEN MINUTES, AND ARMED WITH A TALL COFFEE, Laurel stepped outside. “It’s raining. Pouring,” she corrected. How had she missed that? “Del, don’t—”

“Stop arguing.” He just grabbed her hand and pulled her into a dash for the car. Drenched, she climbed in, then shook her head at him when he got behind the wheel.

“It’s not an argument.”

“Okay. How about a discussion?”

“Better,” she allowed. “I just wanted to avoid setting a precedent where you’d feel obligated to drive me home, or that sort of thing. If I follow an impulse I should handle what’s connected to it. Like transportation.”

“I really enjoyed the impulse, but regardless, when I’m with a woman, I take her home. Consider it a Brown Rule of Thumb.”

She did consider while tapping her fingers on her knee. “So, if you followed an impulse, I’d be obligated to drive you home.”

“No. And no, I don’t consider that sexist, I consider it elemental.” He glanced over, all sleepy midnight eyes as he drove through the rainy morning. “Equal rights, equal pay, choice, opportunities, and so on. I’m for them. But when I’m with a woman I take her home. And when I’m with a woman, I don’t like the idea of her driving around in the middle of the night, or alone at five-thirty-whatever in the morning if there’s a way around it.”

“Because you have the penis.”

“Yes, I do. And I’m keeping it.”

“And the penis shields against accidents, breakdowns, and flat tires?”

“You know what’s always been interesting, and occasionally frustrating, about you?You’re able to turn the simple into the complicated.”

It was true, but it didn’t change the point. “What if I’d had my car?”

“You didn’t.”

“But what if I did?”

“I guess we’ll find out when you do.” He turned into the drive.

“That’s evasive.”

“It is, isn’t it? How about I give you a point back? I won’t walk you to the door.”

She cocked her head. “But you’re going to sit here until you know I’m inside?”

“Yes, I am.” He leaned over, cupped her chin, kissed her. “Go bake a cake.”

She started to get out, then shifted back and gave him a longer, much more satisfying kiss. “Bye.”

She dashed to the door, then turned, dripping, to wave as she let herself in.

Then, alone in the quiet, she leaned back on the door and indulged herself. She’d made love with Del. She’d slept in his bed, awakened beside him. A lifetime of dreams had come true in one night, so she was allowed to indulge herself in private, to grin like a maniac, hug herself, and feel utterly, foolishly wonderful.