He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed. “Hey. I’m sorry, I can’t stay. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay? We’re having a problem with one of our systems. I’m on call tonight, so I have to go.”

“Sorry to hear that.” She shouldn’t be disappointed, for heaven’s sake. He had a job to do. He owned his own business, so of course he had to do stuff like this. At least he wasn’t a cop anymore. She knew she’d have worried way more in that case. As a friend, of course.

“Listen, how about we carpool tomorrow? It can be our little nod to being green and stuff. Also, we live close enough to each other so it makes sense.” He cocked his head, and she probably would have agreed to just about anything he’d proposed; the way he looked at her was irresistible.

“I have to be at Adrian’s a few hours early to help out.”

He grinned, and everything in her body did the wave.

“What a coincidence, me too. Works out even better.” That damned grin again, and she was totally lost.

“All right. If you’re sure you don’t mind. I’ll be out front at two, okay?”

He frowned and still was beautiful.

“How about no? What do you think I am? I’ll park and come get you. You’re not going to wait in the cold for me at the curb. Go on in and have a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow. I may even be back here later on, depending on how complicated this call is.”

She watched him hug Elise and Brody, kiss Erin’s cheek and wave good-bye at the room full of people before he moved back to where she stood.

“See you tomorrow, Ella.”

It was the way he looked at her, she decided, that was different. He looked into her face, into her eyes and held her gaze.

“Yeah, see you then.” She waved like a doofus and didn’t even pretend she wasn’t looking at his ass as he walked down the front walk to his car.

“Whoo,” she muttered before turning back and going into the main room.

Cope slumped through his front door some hours later, exhausted and annoyed that he’d missed his chance to get closer to Ella. The elderly lady he’d spent the last several hours with had reminded him of his grandmother. So he’d stayed with her, had some tea and talked her through the system for the dozenth time until she felt comfortable enough for him to leave. It would have felt insulting to everyone if he’d just reset the system and left, knowing Mrs. Morgan was spooked and lonely.

So now here he was, alone in his half-empty condo, still aching for Ella.

He didn’t bother turning on the lights. He knew the way, around the coffee table and across the rug. And the moon was setting, casting a silvery light on the walls.

She’d been vivacious earlier that evening. Aglow with joy and sensuality. He smiled as he leaned into the shower to turn the faucet on. He stripped off, tossing the clothes in the direction of the laundry basket, another task he needed to finish up soon or he’d be wearing parachute pants and a long-sleeved tie-dyed shirt to work.

The heat of the water against his muscles felt good, rippling through him, relaxing. He breathed in deep, remembering the way she’d felt, her body backed up to his as they’d danced.

He’d kissed her. Impulsively. But he couldn’t find it anywhere within himself to be sorry. They’d been together, dancing. There’d been a sort of magic about it. Just the two of them in a sea of undulating bodies.

And when she turned, her mouth curved into a beautiful smile, so totally open and engaged with him there’d been nothing else to do but kiss her. Just a quick slide of his mouth against hers. He’d swallowed the gust of her surprised sound.

He’d done it on impulse, yes, but he’d done it in public, marking her in some sense, wanting everyone to know she was his.

What he’d really wanted, as she’d looked up at him back at Brody’s place, was to push her back against the wall, his hands sliding down her sides, his mouth on hers, swallowing her needy little sighs.

He soaped up, his eyes closed, head tipped back as the water rushed over his body. Kissing her wouldn’t be enough. He’d invite her back to his place. Not the condo, but his house.

Her skin would glow in firelight, he decided. He’d build a fire to keep her warm. A woman like Ella needed some TLC, some cosseting and adoration.

That first time, he’d start at her toes and work his way up. He knew she spent a great deal of time on her feet. He could scent the warm almond oil he’d use, massaging her heels and instep.

The feel of her, after wanting it for so long, would be intoxicating. As intoxicating as the permission to slide his hands up her calves and thighs, kissing in their wake. He knew she was sensitive about her scarring, but he didn’t see a single part of her as anything but beautiful.

He’d take a long, closeup look at the tattoo on her back as he left a trail of kisses up her ribs and then across her belly, avoiding her pu**y and br**sts for the moment, rolling her over, moving up her spine to her neck.

Slick with soap, Cope fisted his cock, imagining her taste when he made his way back down the sweet belly and to her pu**y. He grew impossibly hard just thinking about it, thinking about how she’d feel against his mouth.

He f**ked his fist over and over as he imagined licking her until she came, imagined how her kiss would taste as he moved up her body, notching his c**k against her, slowly pushing into her body.

He’d have to pause to push orgasm back. She’d be hot and tight, and just being in her would have pushed him to the brink.