Stars winked on as she took him down to the pond to show him the frog. When he crouched for a closer look, she shook her head.

“You’re just as thrilled and fascinated as Kent—the boy from the wedding party.”

“A man never outgrows a good frog. It’s a whopper. I could probably catch it, and chase you. Like I used to.”

“You could try, but I’m faster these days. Besides, you usually caught Emma.”

“She was more girl than the rest of you, and squealed more. Those were the days.” He sat back on his heels, scanned the grounds, the green, the cool shadows. “I liked coming down to the pond before dark in the summer, just sitting here.” He did so now. “Thinking long thoughts with my dog, watching the lights go on in the house. See, there’s Parker’s room. Now, anyway. It used to be there.”

He pointed.

“I remember. I spent a lot of happy hours in that room.” She sat beside him. “The Bride’s Suite now. So, I guess, it’s still a happy room, full of female. Yours is the same. I remember when you moved up to the third floor. To get some privacy.”

“I was stunned when they said okay. They trusted me. Then, of course, I had to move up there, even though it was a little scary. I had to bribe the dog to sleep up there with me. I miss my dog.”

“Aww.” She tipped her head to his shoulder. “He was a great dog.”

“Yeah, he was. I think about getting a dog, but then I remember I’m really not home enough, and it doesn’t seem fair.”

“Two dogs.”

He ducked his head to look at her. “Two?”

“They’d keep each other company when you weren’t there. They’d be pals, hang out, talk about you when you were gone.”

The idea tickled him. “That’s a thought.”

He turned, slipped an arm around her, rubbed his lips over hers. “When I got a little older, sometimes I’d bring girls down here to neck.”

“I know. We used to spy on you.”

“You did not.”

“Of course we did.” She snorted out a laugh because he looked both stunned and deeply disconcerted. “It was entertaining and educational. It helped give us a heads-up on what to expect when it was our turn.”

“Jesus.”

“You got to second base here with Serena Willcott.”

“Okay, that’s it. Memory Lane’s closed.”

“You had smooth moves, even then. I bet you could get to second base with me here, too.” She took his hand, slid it up her body, pressed it lightly to her breast. “See? You’ve still got it.”

“I’ve worked some new ones in since Serena Willcott.”

“Is that so? Why don’t you try them out on me?”

He leaned in again, a brush of lips, a rub, a gentle nip while he used just his fingertips.

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good one.”

“If that worked, I might try this.” He slid his finger down her throat to the top button of her shirt, flicked it open. “Not too fast,” he murmured against her mouth, “not too slow.” He opened the second button, then the third, pausing between to glide his fingertips over newly exposed skin.

“Yeah, you’ve probably improved.” Her heart was already skipping. She made a sound of approval as his lips trailed along her throat, then one of surprise when his hand circled around to unhook her bra.

“Well done,” she managed. “We should take this inside.”

“No.” Still kissing her, still touching her, he laid her back. “Right here.”

“But—”

“I don’t think four little girls are spying on us tonight. And I want you. I want you here, by the water, under the starlight, on the grass, in the air.”

His tongue swept under the loosened cup of her bra, over her nipple, and sent a shiver of need along her skin.

He made her weak; made her want to be. He made her want to give herself over to him and what he stirred in her. The warm grass, the warm air, the easy play of his hands, his lips, left her wanting nothing more than what was here and now. So she entrusted herself to the moment and to him, while to her dazzled eyes the stars seemed to burst to life in the sky.

The scent of her, seductive as the summer night, allured. The taste of her, so irresistible, stirred. He let his hands wander, to tease and to pleasure while the night deepened around them, cloaked them. Over the hum of the summer evening, an owl began its two-note call.

Moonlight danced on the surface of the pond, and on her body as he undressed her.

She started to sit up to unbutton his shirt, but he pressed her back.

“Not yet, not yet.” His gaze swept over her, the hunger in it bringing another shiver over her skin. “You can’t know how you look. You can’t know.”

He needed, craved, the touch, the taste, now. All of her, all his. He took, let the greed come so her cries and moans only sharpened his arousal. Her nails dug, her body bucked, and still he drove her on.

Now those stars exploded, blinding her. She couldn’t find her breath as sensations pummeled her. It felt wicked, wonderful, to lie there, near to helpless, naked, crazed, while he did what he chose. His shirt brushed her breast, and she moaned again.

She wanted his flesh against hers, desperately, and yet knowing he was dressed and she exposed heightened the excitement toward a delirious panic. And even that burst.

“Now. Inside me. Oh God! Del.”

She tugged at his shirt, his belt until together they managed to strip him.

She rolled. Straddled him. Took him.

Pleasure swamped her, and spurred her. Her head fell back as she steeped herself in it. He laid his hands on her br**sts, then glided them down her body. Then gripped hers.

The storm rose, wildly, and they rode it out together.

SHE’D MEANT TO TEASE HIM A LITTLE, TEMPT HIM A LITTLE—some groundwork for what she’d expected to follow in her bedroom. Now, she thought, she lay naked, stunned, and exhausted by the pond where the fat frog croaked in what might have been approval.

She’d just had wild outdoor sex with Del by the pond where they’d often played as children.

She wasn’t quite sure if that was weird or wonderful.

“Second base?” He ran a hand down her back, over her ass, and back again. “Baby, that was a grand slam.”

She had to laugh, it was a little wheezy, but she had to. “Good God, Del, we’re naked and sticky. What if Mac and Carter, or Emma and Jack had decided to take a walk down this way?”