A slim, silver tape recorder caught my eye toward the back of the counter. “What’s this for?” I asked, picking it up so I could show her what I meant.

She looked up, blanched, and the bowl slipped out of her hands, rattling on the granite for a few seconds before it came to a stop. “It’s for therapy. Please don’t press play.”

“Okay.” I set it back down carefully. “I wasn’t going to, I promise.”

“Thank you.” She shook it off and forced a smile. “So, about Sharknado?”

I laughed, then picked up the bowl. “We can watch whatever you want, Kitty. After all, stay in and veg out was your idea for date night, remember?”

“Hmmm.” A devilish gleam sparkled in her eye. “What about Jane Eyre? Or Pride and Prejudice?”

I grimaced but nodded. “Like I said, anything you want.”

“You’re only saying that because there’s a storm going on and you can’t drag me out to go jetpack surfing or whatever.” She took a couple of pieces of popcorn from the bowl with an M&M. “Open up.”

I obliged her and then groaned as the mixture of salty and sweet hit my tongue. “Okay. I take back my earlier thoughts and doubts. That’s amazing. And I’ve never heard of jetpack surfing, but I’d be up for trying it,” I teased.

She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me. It was soft and ended way too soon. There had been a crackling electricity between us since the morning we’d been interrupted in my bedroom. Between my work hours and Fin’s evolving visitation schedule with Claire, Morgan and I hadn’t been able to find more than an hour or two together, and the awareness between us was nearly painful.

With Sam at Grayson’s parents’ for the night, we were alone. Actually, truly, completely alone for the entire night.

We settled back onto the couch, and she flipped through movie options rapidly, as if she didn’t care what we watched, either, because we weren’t really going to be watching it anyway.

A gust of wind moved the chaise lounge on the deck, and rain fell in sheets against the glass that stretched across the back of her house.

“Do I need to worry?” she asked.

“No.” I set the popcorn on the table in front of us and tucked her into my side. “This isn’t bad.”

“So I can stop waiting for the dune to break?” She peered over as the chaise moved again.

I kept my laugh well and smothered. “The dune isn’t going to break, Kitty. That would take a hurricane or at least a healthy storm surge.” My cell phone rang, and I grabbed it with my left hand so I wouldn’t have to let go of Morgan, then muttered a curse when the caller ID flashed.