“That’s what I said too! But then you told me the next day you weren’t going to let it go anywhere. You were going to stay away from him for a while.”

“Yeah, I was going to.” I turned off the heat beneath the pan. “But then somehow I didn’t.”

“When did this happen anyway?”

“Saturday night at his house when the kids slept at Frannie’s,” I said, whisking in the chopped-up chocolate bar. “And Sunday evening in the winery.”

“Oh my God!” April clapped both hands over her mouth. “Where in the winery?”

“His office.” Just the thought of it made my body ache for him again.

“Like on his desk?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it.” She shook her head. “So was it good?”

“It was incredible.” I took seven mugs out of the cupboard. “You know how we were wondering last week about where to find a good guy who’s kind of dominant in the bedroom but sweet to you too?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I found one.”

“He handcuffed you?” she squeaked.

“Will you keep your voice down?” I glanced into the family room again to make sure my parents weren’t listening, and shook my head. “No handcuffs, he was just . . . surprisingly rough and demanding at times. But then he was gentle too. He was exactly what I needed.”

Through the window over the sink, I could see Henry and Keaton, and it warmed my heart and soul to see Henry so patiently pointing things out to my son, answering his questions, teaching him.

“Wow.” April leaned back against the sink again. “So now what? Are you guys a thing?”

“No. So don’t say anything,” I told her as I poured chocolate into the mugs and placed them on a tray. “We’re just friends for now.”

She snorted. “Now you really do sound like Meg.”

“I’m serious.” I added a can of whipped cream and a bowl of mini-marshmallows to the tray. “It’s too soon to be anything more. Neither of us is in a position to offer the other anything but some fun right now. We agree on that.”

“Well, you guys deserve some fun.” She sighed. “But it’s too bad you couldn’t have met each other at a different time in your lives. Maybe you could have made it work for real.”

“I can’t start wondering what if,” I told her, picking up the tray. “I’ve got enough regrets. The past is past, and I’ve got to concentrate on moving forward.”

April folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah. I hear that.”

I set the tray down again. “I’m sorry, April. We’re always talking about my issues. How are you feeling about  . . . everything?”

“I don’t know. Okay, I guess.”

“The other night, you mentioned eighteen years was coming up.”