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  Phin draped his arm across her shoulders and pulled her back down on the bed, his face still in the pillow. “Did you come?”

  Sophie crossed her arms over her breasts and glared at the ceiling, ignoring the hot weight of his arm across her and all the cheering her body was doing. “Yes.”

  “Did you like it?” he said, his voice still muffled by the pillow.

  She started to grin in spite of herself. “Yes.”

  “Say, ‘Thank you, Phin.’ ”

  “Oh, please.”

  “Say, Thank you very much, Phin. ”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Say, ‘You are a great lover, Phin.’ ”

  “I’m out of here.” She rolled to swing out of bed, and his arm slipped down to her waist and pulled her back against him.

  He felt good, solid against her back, and she had to concentrate to remember she was annoyed with him for making her come.

  That couldn’t be right.

  He pulled his face out of the pillow and rolled to cuddle her to him from behind, kissing her damp hair and holding her close. “Discovery fantasy,” he said, and she relaxed into the hot curve of his body.

  “What?”

  “You have discovery fantasies. Very common among women.” He yawned in her ear. “Men don’t have them. We like to watch.”

  “I do not have discovery fantasies,” Sophie said. “That’s kinky.”

  “You’re kinky.”

  Sophie tried to pull away in outrage. “I am not kinky.”

  He sighed. “Sophie, your soul is a corkscrew.” He held on to her and kissed her neck again, and she gave up to stay curled in his heat, guiltily flattered that he thought she was kinky. Not sexless after all. In fact...

  “So... I’m exciting?”

  “Heart-stopping,” Phin said into her neck. “And you definitely have discovery fantasies. I foresee us having a lot of sex in public places.” He yawned again and shifted on the bed. “Anyplace would be more comfortable than this mattress. Not to mention quieter.”

  “I don’t see us having a lot of sex anywhere,” Sophie said, trying to get her control back. But I’m exciting.

  “That’s because you’re repressed,” Phin said. “Which is why God sent me to save you.”

  “God did not send you,” Sophie said. “The devil sent you. And we’re not having sex in public.”

  “Sure we are,” Phin said. “You want to know why?”

  He kissed her neck again and her pulse kicked up again. “No.”

  “Because you like it,” he whispered in her ear, and she shivered against him.

  “I don’t think so,” she said, and put her hand on the edge of the bed to push herself out of his arms before he talked her into sex on the kitchen table.

  He caught her right hand to stop her, and then he brought it close to their faces to look at it. “Your ring has writing on it.” He sounded sleepy, and she gave up trying to escape, enjoying the way his voice felt in her ear.

  “They both do,” Sophie said. “One says free will and the other one says destiny. They were my mother’s.” She looked at the ring in the moonlight, and at Phin’s fingers intertwined with hers, and thought, That’s nice.

  Phin turned the ring until the destiny was centered on her finger and yawned. “Free will and fate?”

  He didn’t sound as if he cared, and Sophie rolled in his arms so she could look at him. He smiled when she turned, a sleepy, lazy smile just for her that had nothing to do with politics or charm, and she thought, Wow. She almost rolled closer and kissed him, but that would make things more complicated, so she concentrated on his question.

  “There are things you can change ...” Sophie held up her left hand with the free will ring to watch it glint in the moonlight. “And things you can’t change.” She pulled the destiny hand free from his.

  Phin recaptured the hand with destiny on it. “I don’t believe in destiny,” he said, as he pulled her hand down. He kissed her knuckles, and Sophie shivered at the heat from his mouth.

  “Mama said that family is your destiny,” she said, trying not to fall again, “because they shape your life.”

  Phin shrugged against her. “Maybe at first—”

  Sophie shook her head, her curls brushing his chest, and watched as he caught his breath. It was such a little thing, but she thought, I did that. “Your worldview is established by six,” she said, watching him. “You don’t have any choice in that. You just get it.” I think I want it again.

  “And then you grow up and move away. You have free will.” Phin met her eyes and looked a lot less sleepy. “You can choose whatever you want. I choose this.” He began to work his way down her neck again, his lips tickling hot on her skin.

  Sophie’s pulse kicked up. “Well, that was Mama’s point,” she said, her voice a little higher than before. “Your family is your destiny, and then you make what you can of that.” She thought about her mother for a minute, about all those dreams lost because of her bad choices, and she pulled away. “And then sometimes, destiny comes along and slaps you again anyway.”

  Phin stopped. “What happened?”

  “There was a car accident,” Sophie said, remembering the sound of the crunching metal, now confused with the sound from the Garveys’ accident, so it seemed new all over again. “She died. She’d spent all those years following Dad around the country, waving her rings and saying, ‘Everything will be fine,’ and Dad saying, ‘Nothing but good times ahead,’ and then—” She stopped for a moment, and Phin pulled her closer. “One day there was the accident, and Dad stopped talking about the good times and it was pretty much the three of us and Dusty Springfield.”

  “That explains a lot,” Phin said.

  She lifted her chin and flashed her mother’s rings in the moonlight. “So then I’d say to Amy, ‘Everything will be fine,’ and Davy would say to her, ‘Nothing but good times ahead,’ and Dad would tell us to shut the hell up and we’d be off again.”

  “Your dad was a salesman?” Phin said.

  “Sort of,” Sophie said, and rolled away.

  He pulled her back against him. “But now everything is fine,” he said in her ear. “Davy and Amy are grown up and you’re all safe and happy. You made it come true for them.”

  Sophie nodded. Just not for me.

  “So let me make it true for you tonight,” he said, and when she turned to him, amazed, he kissed her, so gently that she gave herself up to him completely, no doubts at all this time. “Nothing but good times ahead,” he said against her mouth, and began to kiss his way down her body again, fulfilling his promise with every move he made.

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  The phone rang the next morning just as Sophie was typing the end of the lamp scene. She hit save and answered the phone, only to hear Brandon say, “I’m returning your call.”

  Sophie winced. “Oh. I’m really sorry about that. But you’re really better off without me. I know it’s painful—”

  “But are you better off without me?” Brandon said.

  Sophie looked at the phone incredulously. “What?”

  “I don’t think you’ve thought this through. You’re going to be home this afternoon and we can—”

  “Actually, we’re staying another week,” Sophie said.

  “—discuss the situation and help you deal with your denial.”

  “My denial?” Sophie said.

  “Another week?” Brandon said.

  “Brandon, the only one in denial here is you,” Sophie said. “Really, I think we just got used to each other. I think it’s time we found other people who will meet our needs.” She closed her eyes as she thought of some of the needs Phin had met, could meet, would meet in the next week with any amount of encouragement at all.

  “We can meet our needs,” Brandon said. “We’ve always met our needs.”

  “I think I’ve discovered new needs,” Sophie said.

  “If this is about sex, don’t be childish. Tell me what you want an
d I’ll give it to you.”

  “My freedom,” Sophie said. “I’m trying to do this the civilized way, but I really want out of this relationship. In fact, I am out.”

  “I’ll call you again at the end of the week,” Brandon said. “I’m sure the thrill will be gone by then and we can talk.”

  “The thrill might be gone, but I will be, too. Really, Brandon—” Sophie began, but he’d already hung up.

  “Is the new scene done?” Amy said from the door into the living room.

  “Yeah.” Sophie hung up the phone and shoved the PowerBook toward her. “That was Brandon. He thinks—”

  “Shut up so I can read this,” Amy said, and Sophie jerked her head up at the tone in her voice. She watched Amy read from the screen, looking a lot tenser than the scene deserved.

  “This is great,” Amy said when she finished, but she didn’t look happy. “And this explains a lot. I couldn’t figure out what all the crashing was about.”

  “He’s very inventive.” Sophie frowned at her. “What’s wrong.”

  “Nothing,” Amy said. “I have to show this to Clea—”

  “No,” Sophie said and closed the PowerBook. “What happened?”

  Amy bit her lip. “That dickhead Zane,” she said finally. “He just told me that if I don’t quit doing the video so Cleo will go home with him, he’s going to tell Wes about my juvenile record.” She swallowed hard. “So I told him to go ahead. I told him Wes already knew and didn’t care.”

  “Does he?”

  “No,” Amy said. “And I think he’d care—he’s a cop, isn’t he? But I don’t care. I’m going to make this video and the documentary no matter what, and I don’t care what that dickhead does, but—”

  “But Zane must die,” Sophie said, nodding. “I understand. We’ll think of something horrible to do to him.”

  “That would help,” Amy said, cheering up a little.

  “Too bad Davy isn’t here,” Sophie said. “He always did the best revenge.”

  “Let’s call him,” Amy said. “Because I want something really bad to happen to Zane. Which reminds me, Clea wants another love scene. And that’s bound to piss Zane off, so—”

  “We should play along.” Sophie tried to look blasé. “You want me to sacrifice myself to the mayor again.”

  “From what I saw last night, it was no sacrifice.” Amy managed a weak smile. “And see if he’s got a letter sweater we can borrow. He looks like the type who’d have one.”

  Sophie frowned at her. “A letter sweater?”

  Amy nodded, not happy. “Clea wants to do this thing where she’s driving up the road on her way home remembering Frank in high school so that when she sees the real Frank, everybody will understand the shock. And then when Rob shows up as his son, it’ll make sense that she falls for him.”

  “I still don’t get the left—”

  “She wants Rob to play Frank in her high-school memories.” Amy wrinkled her nose. “Corny as hell, but she’s calling the shots.”

  “Right,” Sophie said. “I’ll ask the mayor for a letter sweater.” And great sex. She stopped breathing for a moment just thinking about it.

  “Soon,” Amy said.

  Sophie tried to look noble. “I suppose I could go visit the bookstore now. He said he was going to be working there today. And maybe if I can’t find anything in the books, he’ll have some ideas.” I have some ideas.

  Amy looked down at the lamp scene. “I’d count on it.” She still seemed down. “You’re just toying with the mayor, right? You’re not getting involved?”

  “No,” Sophie said, cooling off a little. “It’s pretty much mutual toying.”

  “Because I don’t need a scene if this is going to be another Chad thing,” Amy said. “I really hate it that that happened to you. And the mayor has Chad written all over him.”

  “He’s not,” Sophie said. “He was very sweet last night.”

  “I hate Zane, too,” Amy said, not really listening.

  “We’ll take care of Zane,” Sophie said as she got up to go. “Really, nothing but good times ahead.”

  For once, at least for the rest of the afternoon, she was pretty sure that was true.

  Chapter Seven

  That same afternoon, Rachel’s father called her out of the garden onto the cement patio behind their house. She sat gingerly on the steel garden chair beside him, her weeding gloves on, wary of both the sun-warmed metal and her father’s topic of conversation.

  “So you’re working on this movie,” he said. “What are they doing?”

  “Just shooting people talking on the porch,” Rachel said.

  “Oh.” Her father seemed disappointed. Then he said, “You let me know what they’re doing. It’s important for the town.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s my civic duty to know what’s happening in this town,” her father said, puffing up a little. “These outsiders, they could be bad influences. So you tell me everything, you understand?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Rachel said, having no intention of doing any such thing. “The Coreys are painting the house this weekend and after school. There’s some news.”

  Her father didn’t look interested. “Maybe I should drop by, see for myself. Phin Tucker’s out there a lot, isn’t he?”

  “He showed Sophie how to change the fuses,” Rachel said, although she was pretty sure that wasn’t the only thing Phin was showing Sophie how to do. Even from the backseat of Phin’s convertible the night before, Rachel had picked up on the sexual tension in the front seat. When her mother had met her at the door and said eagerly, “Was that Phin Tucker who brought you home?” she’d said, “Mom, he didn’t even know I was there.”

  “So he’s involved with the movie people,” her father was saying, and without thinking, Rachel said, “Oh, yeah.”

  “Does that upset you? Does it upset you that I’m running against him in the election?”

  “Why would I be upset? You do it every two years.” Rachel stared out at the garden, the garden she’d have to go back to weeding soon, the garden she’d weeded every summer for her whole rife.

  She wanted to go someplace where somebody else did the weeding.

  “I don’t want you to be hurt if he’s spending time with other women,” her father said. “And I don’t want you to think you have to choose between your father and your husband.”

  “Husband?” Rachel said. “Not in a million years. Mom’s got it in her head that we’re going to be together, but she’s wrong.”

  “I’m sure she—” Stephen began, but Rachel cut him off.

  “Look, Daddy, it’s Phin, for God’s sake. He taught me to ride my bike and stuck Band-Aids on me when I fell off, and he coached me in softball and yelled at me when I fell over third base in the tournament game. After that, it’s kind of hard to get hot looking at him.”

  “Oh.” Stephen looked uncomfortable, and Rachel added, “Sorry, Dad. More than you needed to know.”

  “No, no, you know you can tell me anything,” Stephen said, but his expression added, Just not that. “It would be a good match. You could hyphenate your last name. Garvey-Tucker.” He looked out into the distance. “Your son could take that name, too.”

  “Son?” Rachel said.

  “Phin needs a son, and you need to stop running around and be settled.”

  “Running around?” The unfairness of this was criminal. “Where do I run around?”

  “I don’t like you going out to the Tavern,” Stephen said. “You’re underage. Of course, I know you go with Rob and he’s a gentleman. Too bad his father’s an idiot. You’re not thinking about marrying Rob, are you?”

  Rachel thought about spending the rest of her days in Temptation and the rest of her nights with Rob. “No.”

  “Well, you have to marry somebody,” Stephen said. “You think about Phin. He’s a good-looking man. You’d have good-looking sons.”