Claire Asher. Stop thinking about sex. He only offered dinner.

  But maybe she could offer dessert.

  Her lips curved.

  “You’re thinking dirty thoughts,” he said.

  She blinked. “What? I am not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “How would you even know that?”

  The way your lips tilt upward, and your eyes get a bit of a sparkle in them. Also, I’d just like to say whatever it is that you’re thinking, I like the direction.”

  “I could be thinking about laundry.”

  “But are you?”

  Oh, that sexy half smile of his could make a woman drop her clothes in a heartbeat.

  Okay, so maybe dessert would be included.

  Chapter Five

  “Mom, you look amazing.”

  Claire caught sight of Brooke leaning against the open door of her room.

  “You think so?” She smoothed her hand down the front of her simple black dress with long sleeves and a scoop neckline. She’d put on her black heels—not the super-high ones, though she could have done that. But the three-inch heels were high enough. Besides, it was just dinner, not a cocktail party or a dance.

  “You have a rockin’ bod, Mom, and that dress shows it off.”

  She blew out a breath. “Thanks. And we’re just friendly neighbors having a friendly dinner together.”

  Brooke snorted out a laugh. “Sure, Mom. I won’t wait up.”

  Claire turned around. “Brooke!”

  But her daughter had already disappeared.

  She had no idea what her daughter meant by that remark. It really was just a friendly dinner.

  Yeah, with a guy you want to bone.

  She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts.

  “Quit acting like a horny teenager, Claire,” she mumbled to herself. “It’s not going to happen.”

  The doorbell rang, so she took one last look at herself in the mirror. She’d worn a silver necklace that hugged her throat, but other than that, she was done.

  As she walked down the steps, she heard Brooke chatting away with Madison. Once Brooke had found out that Claire was going to dinner with Sullivan, she’d decided Madison should come over so the two of them could hang out together. And Claire figured that was a good idea so neither of the girls would be alone, even though they were both old enough to do so.

  “Hi,” she said as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  “Oh, hey, Mrs. Asher,” Madison said. “You look hot.”

  “Indeed, she does,” Sullivan said as he stepped up behind his daughter. “Are you ready to go?”

  Speaking of hot. Black pants, a long-sleeved, black button-down shirt, and all the deliciousness that was Sullivan packaged inside.

  Wow.

  She nodded, feeling butterflies in her stomach for the first time in a very long time. “Yes. Let’s go.”

  Sullivan turned to Madison. “You know the rules.”

  Madison nodded. “No boys over. No calling boys. No thinking about boys—”

  Sullivan gave her the side-eye. “I wouldn’t go that far. Actually, yes, I would. Don’t even think about them.”

  He got an eye roll in return. “Dad. We’ll be fine.”

  “We will, Mr. Sullivan,” Brooke said. “We’re having mac ‘n’ cheese for dinner that Mom baked, then we’re making cookies and watching a movie.”

  “I doubt we’ll be out that long,” Claire said.

  And then the four of them just stood there, until Madison laughed and said, “Go. Have fun.”

  “Fine,” Claire said. “If you need us, just call.”

  Brooke practically pushed her out the door. “We won’t.”

  After they got into Sullivan’s car and he took off, he said, “I’m not sure which set of us were the parents in that situation.”

  Claire laughed. “It did seem like they were coaxing us out the door, as if we were nervous teens on our first date.”

  “They got the first date part right, just the age parts wrong.”

  “So you’re not nervous?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” As he pulled to a stop at the red light, he turned his head to look at her. “Are you nervous?”

  “Of course not. I date all the time.”

  He let out a short laugh. “Yeah, me neither.”

  She smiled. It was good to know he wasn’t out there playing around. Though with his good looks and charm, not to mention his incredible body, she had no idea why.

  Then again, he was a single parent, just like she was. So maybe he was choosy about who he went out with.

  Just as she was.

  Sullivan had texted her earlier in the week to discuss food preferences. Sadly for Claire, she liked all food, which was why she worked out like a demon. A woman in her forties couldn’t slide by stuffing her face all day long without burning some calories in return.

  She had told him she was game for anything, food-wise.

  He took her to The Crossing in Clayton. It was very nice inside, and the ambience inside was better, with beautiful place settings and private seating, which Claire really liked. Tucked into a corner like they were, with the privacy screen on either side of them, it felt as if they were dining alone, even though they were in a crowded restaurant.

  Their server arrived and brought menus and the wine list.

  “What’s your pleasure?” Sullivan asked.

  Claire looked up to see Sullivan smiling at her.

  Her pleasure? She could think of a lot of things right now, none of which could be accomplished in a public place. But if he kept smiling at her like that, she’d be awfully tempted to try one out.

  “The wine, Claire?” he asked.

  “Oh. Wine. Right.” She glanced down at the wine list, which was extensive as well as impressive. “I don’t know. These all look good. How about one of these Cabernets?”

  “Okay. Any one in mind?”

  She shook her head. “You choose.”

  When their server came back, he ordered a bottle.

  “I didn’t get a chance to properly tell you in front of the girls, but you look beautiful tonight.”

  Her skin warmed under his comment. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

  “Thanks. I don’t get a chance to dress up very often since I work at home, so this is fun.”

  “Same here. My work uniform is yoga pants.”

  “But surely you get dressed up for some things. Ladies’ night out with your friends, dates, book club.”

  She liked how he tucked her having dates in the middle of those. “On occasion. And you do the same?”

  “I don’t get very many ladies’ nights out.”

  She laughed. “How sad for you.”

  Their server brought the bottle of wine. Claire tasted it and found it smooth and delicious.

  “This is very good.”

  “Yes, it is. And to your earlier question, I don’t date much because I’m typically busy with work and with Madison, and I don’t want to bring women around my daughter who aren’t going to stay around, if you know what I mean.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. Brooke is always pushing me to go out on dates, as if that’s the simplest thing, when it really isn’t. There’s so much more that goes into dating when you’re a single parent of a teenager.”

  He wound his fingers around the stem of his wineglass and lifted his lips to take a sip. She watched his mouth, the gentle way his fingers flexed. She couldn’t help herself.

  He laid the glass down and nodded. “It’s not like we can only think about ourselves and our needs. We have to also think about our daughters. Our choices affect them, too.”

  “That’s right. What if we make a mistake? They could get hurt, too.”

  “Which means life is a little lonely. For me, anyway.”

  She heard that loneliness in his voice, saw it reflected in his eyes as he took another sip of wine. And she felt it echoed in her heart. All those nights reading a book home alone while Brooke was off with friends or when she spent weekends with her dad. Sure, she did things, went places with friends, out on the occasional date. But it wasn’t the same as having someone to share her life with.

  “I imagine this move was hard for you. You had friends in Chicago, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. But one of my old Chicago friends actually moved here to St. Louis a couple of years ago, so I have plans to meet up with him and his wife after the holidays.”

  “Oh, that’s great. It’s good to have friends to hang out with. Being isolated in a new city? I can’t imagine.”

  “Fortunately I’ve been too busy to feel isolated. And there’s Maddy.”

  “Which isn’t the same as having people your own age to connect with.”

  “True. It can get lonely.”

  She nodded. “The loneliness can sometimes be overwhelming.”

  “Yeah.” Then he smiled. “But Madison fills me up with all of her noise and joy. And even her complaining.”

  Claire laughed, grateful that Sullivan bounced them out of that sad conversation. “I know how that feels, too.”

  “But it’s not the same as having someone your age, with similar likes, that you can share your life with.”

  His words echoed her thoughts exactly. “Yes.”

  “Have you thought about getting back into relationship land?”

  “I’ve…thought about it. And that’s as far as I usually get.”

  He leaned back in the booth and studied her. She could get so lost in the angles and planes of his face, the salt and pepper of his hair, and his beard—well, that would require touching. She really ached to explore him with her hands.

  “Maybe we should both consider doing more than thinking about it.”

  She arched a brow. “Maybe we should.”

  Just saying the words out loud made her equal parts excited and nervous as hell. But a little more on the excited side of the scale, maybe because she’d said them to Sullivan. He had a way of putting her at ease.

  When their server made their way back around to them, they ordered dinner and slipped right back into conversation, this time about their jobs.

  “So, comic book artist,” she said.

  “Graphic novels, actually.”

  “How did you get involved in that?”

  “I’ve always loved comics, both the writing and drawing of them. Mostly creating the story lines. From the time I could pick up a pencil, I had the knack for it. The two things I loved most when I was a kid were comic books and art. I started creating my own stories when I was a teen. That’s when I first got the idea for the Meera World. It wasn’t as refined back then, but the idea of it first sprang into my head. Then, after college, it germinated into a full-blown world in my head—and in my hands.

  “It took years for me to bring it to fruition. I worked in graphic design for a while until I could make the dream of Meera World into a reality.”

  “How exciting that must have been for you. Not everyone can live their dream.”

  “I’m not gonna lie. It’s been amazing. How about you?”

  “Oh, well, I wasn’t always into fitness. I worked in an office environment for years as a bookkeeper, bored out of my mind. I got into yoga about ten years ago as a way to reduce stress and body stiffness, and I fell in love with it. I fell so in love with it that I started working part time at a studio and realized I was good at it. I was able not only to connect with my own body, my own spirit, but with my clients.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “I mean, I was really good at it. Now it sounds like I’m boasting, doesn’t it?”

  “Not at all. You should be able to talk proudly about what you’re good at. I’m a great storyteller. You’re an amazing yoga instructor. Nothing wrong in that, is there?”

  “I suppose there isn’t.” He was amazing in the way he built up her self esteem with just one sentence.

  The pair looked up when their server brought their salads, then they dug in.

  “Okay, back to yoga,” Sullivan said. “You were really good at it. That’s when you decided to make a career of it?”

  She swallowed and took a sip of her wine. “Not right away. My ex argued that it was a frivolous move, that I couldn’t make a living at being a yoga instructor. I tried to explain to him that owning a studio was my passion, that teaching others to get in touch with their bodies was a need I felt deep in my bones. Needless to say, he wasn’t what I would call supportive, so I hesitated.”

  “A real champ, that guy, huh?”

  “Understatement.” She blew out a breath and continued to eat. “Anyway, after the divorce, I ended up with some capital, so I decided screw it, I’m going for it. A new me and all that. I found great space and leased it, hired a couple of women I’d worked with at a previous studio, and within six months, I was up and running with clients and everything. And we’ve been growing ever since.”

  “Good for you. And now you’re living your dream, too?”

  “I am, though this wasn’t a childhood dream like yours. When I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut.”

  He nodded. “Excellent aspiration.”

  “Thanks. But Ferris wheels make me sick, so that dream went out the window. Yoga, though? I had no idea that doing something like this would give me such satisfaction. But it has. I love it so much.”

  “I can see that. Talking about your work lights up your whole face.”

  There was that blush again, making her cheeks feel warm. “Does it? I didn’t know that.”

  “What you do should make you feel that kind of joy. My work does.”

  “Then aren’t we both lucky?”

  “We sure as hell are. Let’s drink to that.” He lifted his glass and held it up for her to toast with him.

  Later, Claire realized that they never ran out of things to talk about all through the meal. Work, books, movies, their kids, likes and dislikes. The best part about being with him was that he asked her questions about herself. It wasn’t one-sided, with him talking only about himself. Having a conversation with Sullivan was easy—like having dinner with someone she’d known for years. Which was odd since they barely knew each other. It left her with a warm feeling and also a little perplexed. She wasn’t supposed to feel this close to someone after such a short period of time. Yet they’d bonded so fast, it made her head spin.

  Or maybe that was just the wine, since she drank more of it than Sullivan had.

  “Dessert?” he asked after their server had cleared their plates and left the dessert menu behind.

  She glanced at the menu then shook her head. “None for me, thank you. But you go ahead.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’d hate to eat that chocolate torte in front of you.” He gave her a pleading look.

  She shook her head. “How about we share it?”

  “Oh, now you expect me to share it with you? You’re a cruel woman.”

  She laughed. “I’ll only taste it. One bite. Promise.”

  “Done deal.”

  He ordered the dessert, and they both decided on decaf coffee to go with it.

  The cake came with a vanilla bean gelato, and coupled with the coffee, it was the most decadent thing Claire had ever tasted. She could have eaten the entire thing, but she had promised only one bite.

  Only Sullivan wasn’t having that. After he took a bite, he waited until she took another.

  “No, really, you eat it,” she said, eying the cake with lust.

  “Take another bite, Claire. We’re sharing, and that means you get half.”

  With a sigh, she scooped some of the cake and gelato and swallowed with pleasure, realizing as she did that Sullivan had been watching her mouth. She couldn’t help but lick her lips in response, which made his eyes go dark and everything south of her belly button pulse with an urgent message of We Want This Guy Right Now.

  She’d never had restaurant foreplay before. Over dessert. But despite the fact they weren’t even touching each other, her internal thermostat burned fiery hot. She was having a serious reaction to this man.

  And then he laid his spoon down and reached out, circling her fingers with his. If the looks were hot, this was combustible, affecting her breathing, her internal wiring, making her nipples tingle.

  “I—”

  Their server interrupted what she was going to say. She had no idea what she had been about to say anyway because her synapses were only firing in a sexual way.

  Sullivan pulled his hand away, giving her a chance to regroup, to take a breath, to cool her body down. He paid the bill and she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was flushed and she could still feel the rapid pumping of her heartbeat.

  Time to get yourself together, Claire. Nothing is going to happen with Sullivan tonight.

  Or any night, for that matter. They were next-door neighbors and engaging in anything with him could lead to disaster.

  She’d make that very clear to him. They could be friends but nothing more.

  They left the restaurant and drove back to the house. For all the talking they’d done over dinner, it was quiet now, likely due to Claire being in her own head about her feelings. She needed to fix that.

  “Dinner was nice. Thank you.”

  He glanced over and gave her an easy smile. “You’re welcome. It was fun.”

  When they got to the street, Sullivan pulled into his driveway and turned the engine off then came around to her side.

  But instead of walking her to her house, he took her hand. “Come with me.”

  She frowned, but she was curious as he walked her up to the steps to his place, unlocked the door, and let her go inside. He didn’t turn on the light, but he closed the door behind him.

  “The girls are at your house, and before I take you home and say good night, I just wanted to have a minute alone with you.”

  She was against the closed door, in the dark, breathing in Sullivan’s cool scent. She could tell him no right now and walk home.

  But she didn’t want to say no. She wanted to touch, to feel, to have just a moment alone with him. So she palmed his chest, heard his quick intake of breath, and then he lowered his mouth to hers.