Her Heart's Desire

“Me, too,” he confessed. “You’d blush if you knew all the thoughts going through my head after that self-defense class.”

Her smile was radiant. “Really?”

“Tiffany, do you have any idea how sexy you looked in your workout gear? After you left, the image was in my head the rest of that evening—and every evening since.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his head down for another kiss, and reveled when she felt his arms encircle her waist to keep her close.

Tiffany headed to the kitchen and pulled Ivan along behind her. “My nerves are shot. You can’t imagine all the things I thought you were going to tell me tonight.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea you thought Debra and I were together. No wonder you were worried.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

He tilted her face up to meet his. “I’m an idiot, and I plan on making it up to you.”

“You do? How?”

“You’ll see.”

“Wait. It can’t be tomorrow. We’re due at the Andersons’ house for a barbecue, remember?”

Ivan frowned. “Now I do. Well, how about Monday?”

“I’m free. So where are we going?”

“I’m not telling. It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises.”

Ivan wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. “Trust me, you’ll love this one.”

*

For the next hour, they camped out on the floor, talking and eating like they were at a real picnic. The more Tiffany learned about Ivan, the more she liked.

“I’m glad you came over,” she told him. “For a lot of reasons.”

His expression was playful. “Me, too.”

They moved to the couch and watched a movie. When it was over, Ivan said, “I think it’s time I said good-night. Thanks for having me over.”

Tiffany walked him to the door. “You’re welcome. I had a great time.”

“Me, too.”

When he left, Tiffany closed and locked the door.

With a high-wattage smile, she went back and flopped on the couch. “Well, that definitely wasn’t my plan for tonight, but it sure as heck worked!”

Chapter 8

Norma Jean was setting her peach cobbler on top of the stove. She bent over to close the oven door.

“I didn’t marry you for your cooking, but it’s sure been an added bonus—one of them,” her husband said from the doorway.

She beamed at the compliment. “Don’t go trying to get a taste before the guests arrive—of anything.”

Heathcliffe walked over and dipped his head to smell the delectable aroma. He kissed his wife on the neck. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”