Say!
In the dark?
Here in the dark!
Would you, could you, in the dark?
I would not, could not, in the dark.

 

The mobile phone sounded for the third time before Dan realized it was not his alarm clock and managed to answer with a growl. “This had better be good!”

“Daniel?” The voice sounded different – a blend of hope and desperation - but he recognized it immediately.

“What’s wrong?” He was swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reaching for his jeans even as he asked.

“I think I might be just a little bit drunk,” she replied. The hiccup that followed seemed to confirm that fact.

“Where are you?”

“In Sleepyside.”

Shaking his head as if to clear the last of the sleepiness he realized he needed more details. “Whereabouts in Sleepyside?”

“Oh!” A drunken giggle told him she realized her error. “It’s the local dive, The Dog Wagon, or maybe it’s the Dog House, I’m not sure. Why would a dog have a wagon?”

Cursing under his breath he answered. “Keep your phone close, I’ll be right there.”

He broke more laws in that one drive from Mr. Maypenny’s cabin to the Dog Wagon than all the other times he’d driven combined. Besides having a terrible reputation, the Dog Wagon was no place for a young, single woman, especially one that naïve. He couldn’t understand what would possess her to even go there, much less go there to drink, and--to add insult to injury --to drink too much. It was difficult to reconcile what he knew about her to this particular situation. The clientele that frequented that particular local haunt were of a level that couldn’t even spell clientele, much less keep themselves from taking advantage of a woman, not to mention a drunk, beautiful woman.

He pushed through the door and looked around, catching sight of her at the other end of the bar; it almost appeared as if she were holding court, surrounded by several, large burly men. A couple sported scruffy facial hair, there was the one he recognized from his piercings, and more tattoos than were worth it to count. Unfortunately some of those tattoos were the style that normally adorned the arms of former prisoners. He recognized the bartender immediately and gave him a signal. The man had given him some information a time or two, and Dan expected to get some preliminary answers from him. He no sooner started his question, “How much has she …”

“The cute little blonde?” the bartender interrupted.

Dan nodded.

“Too much. Way too much. To be fair to me, I think she started before she got here. She’s quite popular, and I gotta give a little thing like that credit, she sure can hold the liquor. I should’ve been paying closer attention, but a few drinks these guys bought her got by me. If I’d caught on quicker, she’d already be on her way home in a taxi. So far she’s managed to keep them all at peace with one another, but when I suggested she call someone and she agreed, I thought maybe I could hold off announcing last call until you got here. That’s when it’s going to get ugly. I guarantee you every one of those guys believes she’s going home with them.”

Dan sighed. “This is just great,” he muttered. “Any suggestions?”

The bartender shrugged. “Do you want me to call your partner? I could ring the non-emergency number down at the station. The last thing I need is for things to get busted up in here. If that happens, I can promise you it’ll mean my job.”

“No, I think I’ve got it.” He studied the crowd a little bit longer. “You got my back?”

“Yeah, as much as I can.” The bartender shook his head. “You're gonna owe me one, though.”

“Understood.”

Dan surveyed the situation another moment and then made his decision. He strode toward the group and had almost reached it when she saw him and squealed. The high-pitched squeal was another confirmation that she was indeed drunk. Elizabeth Ann Wilson did not squeal.

“Danny!”

He managed not to cringe as the high-pitched “eeeee” vibrated against his eardrums. If he wasn't fully awake before, he certainly was now. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the sound had awakened Mr. Maypenny.

“Elizabeth,” he replied. “You ready?”

Leaning into him and planting her hands on the front of his shirt, she smiled seductively. “Daniel, I didn't think you were ever going to get here.” She slid off the bar stool so she was standing, and then did a seductive move with her hips. “Let's dance.” Another giggle escaped as she pressed against him.

“Uh, Liz ...” he looked over at the bartender, who seemed to grasp his meaning and announced the last call for drinks. There was a minor distraction as several of the men checked their drinks and started ordering their last beverage of choice for the night.

“Didn’t you hear him? That was last call. They’re going to close soon. Don't you think we should get you home?”

“Oh!” She turned and looked at the bartender in confusion and then back at Daniel. “Did you order me a drink?” She peered down into her half-full glass of beer. Unfortunately, the pilsner of beer was another sign she was drunk. The girl he knew never drank beer, only wine—expensive wine. While he was processing this fact, she surprised him again by draining the glass. Wiping her mouth daintily with a cocktail napkin, she smiled and blinked her eyes. Her huge, innocent brown eyes peered at him from behind her glasses and she asked, “I'm going home with you, right?”

That single question seemed to create a good deal of consternation among the rough crowd that had previously given Liz their full attention. “Listen, buddy ...” one of them started but Dan held him off with a glare as he raised his hand.

“Elizabeth.” It was only the second time he’d ever called her by her full name. “Of course you’re going home with me, unless you’d rather go to your place. Just let me know.” His words were for her, but his eyes spoke to each of the men surrounding them, challenging them to speak. “We just need to get out of here; they’ve already announced last call.”

The men shuffled their feet and a couple dared to speak.

“Lady, if this guy is forcing you ...”

“What do you see in thisguy?”

Liz started laughing and couldn't stop. “Forcing me ...” She laughed even harder. “Y'all are a riot.” She slapped a hand on Dan’s chest. “This is my friend, Dan.” She beamed at Dan and waved her hand around the crowd of men. “Daniel, meet me my friends.” She pointed at each one of them and actually said their names. “This is Axel. Meet Jace. That's Rocco. This guy is Pierce, and last but not least ...” she paused a moment and then beamed beatifically at the last, and tallest, of the men surrounding her. “Troy!”

Each of the guys nodded approvingly as she continued. “Gentlemen, this is my friend Daniel. Daniel Mangan. Actually, Detective Daniel Mangan.”

Dan groaned. He hadn't planned to play the cop card, but she’d taken that decision from him. If that wasn't bad enough, her next statement was even worse.

“Daniel doesn't know it yet, but he's going to get lucky tonight.” She winked at the guys and nodded knowingly. “Very, very lucky. And trust me, he's been trying to get lucky with me for some time now. But don’t tell anyone. It’s a see-crud” She moved her hand up to her mouth as if she planned to whisper a real secret to the men, but instead of lowering her voice, she raised it. It didn’t help the situation that the normally straight-laced, prim and proper southern belle’s hips swayed in a fashion that didn’t quite simulate a sexual move but came very, very close.

“Elizabeth –” Dan tried again. “Let’s go, babe. It’s getting late and if I’m going to get lucky …” At this point there was nothing left for him to do but grin cheerfully at his audience and slip his arm around her waist in an effort to walk her out. “I have the morning shift, so we need to get started.”

“Oh! Wait a minute!” she declared as she turned back to the bartender. “I think I ordered another drink.”

“I’ve got plenty at home,” he said. Reaching for his wallet he pulled out a twenty and slid it across the bar towards the bartender. “Thanks, buddy. See you next time.”

The bartender pocketed the bill and nodded.

Dan realized he had managed to avert an all in out brawl at the bar, but he had a pretty good idea that his fight was just beginning.

 

 

It was quite a struggle to get Liz installed safely in his truck, but once he started the drive towards the other side of Sleepyside and her apartment, she became quiet. They'd traveled several miles when he passed what would've been his usual turn towards Mr. Maypenney's cabin. “Danny!” She protested. “You promised you'd take me home with you.”

“Uh, yeah ... about that.” He swallowed hard. “We don't want to wake up Mr. Maypenny.”

She leaned towards him. “Oh!” she whispered in a dramatic fashion. “You think we'll be that loud?”

He shook his head. “No, babe. I just don't think you realize quite how loud you are even when you're whispering.”

Giggling, she gave him a loving smack on the arm. “Don't be silly. Beauty queens are never loud.”

Deciding it best to say nothing, he just nodded. Soon they had arrived at the turn into her parking lot for her apartment. She remained quiet as he parked and then exited the truck to help her out. Later, he realized that should've been a signal to him that she was plotting her next move, but his thoughts were focused on the premise that she was drunk and falling asleep, rather than any idea she was engaged in any feminine scheming. As soon as he opened the door, she pulled him towards her, planting a fierce kiss.

He managed to break away from her embrace and chastised her. “Come on, Liz. We're still in the parking lot.”

“I know ...” She nodded as she looked around the lot full of automobiles. “This is really a public place. So if we do it right now, right here in your truck, then I can cross sex in a public place off my list.”

“Sex in a ... what?” He shook his head. Liz had alluded to a list of things she needed to know about Dan in the past but this was the first time he'd heard anything sexual being on the list. “Exactly what list are you talking about?”

“I made a new list!” she announced proudly. “Instead of finding out all kinds of things about you before we have sex, I decided what I really needed was a list of sexual encounters to have. There’s sex in a public place, phone sex, in the shower, in a car … Hey!” She smacked him on the chest and grinned. “If we do it right here in your truck we can count it twice. One for it being in a public place; and two for sex in a car. Just think, I can screw your brains out and work on my bucket list at the same time.”

“Sweetheart,” Dan said not able to hold back his grin. He considered it rather heroic that he managed not to laugh in her face. The girl he’d been trying to seduce since Thanksgiving had not only hinted she would give him the very thing he'd wanted for months, but promised to accomplish sexual feats that normally he only fantasized about. Once she was sober, he was never going to let her forget this list! “Those are some fascinating suggestions, babe, truly fascinating. But what do you say we make it to your apartment first? It’s a little cold out here to mark that one off your list tonight.”

“Oh!” Her face crestfallen, she looked around. “Do you really think it’s that cold?”

Dan knew at this point he shouldn’t have been surprised. Everyone processes alcohol differently, but he was more than a little perplexed to find it turning this educated and elegant southern blonde into what his colleagues normally referred to as a bimbo. The news had been full of the polar vortex and record low temperatures sweeping the country. He was certain the bitter cold was one of the reasons the bartender at the Dog Wagon had been overly cautious about watching for Liz. It was not the kind of night where anyone needed to find they were unexpectedly walking. “Yeah, it’s really that cold. We’ll hit a record low tonight if we haven’t already.”

“Wow, it sure doesn’t seem cold,” she replied as she finally let him assist her out of the truck. Somehow he managed to get her inside her apartment without further incident. He took her coat and carefully hung it in the closet. Removing his own jacket, he was content to hang it over a hook on the closet door. As soon as he got her tucked safely in her own bed he was out of there, if for nothing else than his own sanity and self-preservation.

He turned around to suggest she take a shower while he prepared coffee and his jaw dropped. In the amount of time he’d taken to hang up two coats she’d managed to remove almost every stitch of clothing she was wearing. She stood there like a playboy model, a hand on her hip and a come hither look in her eyes, smiling seductively.

“You like what you see?” she asked.

The problem was two-fold. First, he liked what he saw very much. He should have translated Liz’s well-known love for clothes as one that extended to sexy lingerie, but until now he hadn’t made that leap—for his own protection. Now, every time he laid eyes on her it would be his undoing to wonder what she was wearing underneath her fashionable wardrobe. The white with black lace ensemble somehow managed to be both modest and incredibly alluring. Her figure was not as curvy as some girls’, but it was tempting all the same. Her invitation was obvious and his hands reached for her as he imagined sliding them underneath the neat little lace-trimmed demi-cups and ending up by pulling off the tiny strip of ….

Enough! His body was reacting, and if he wasn’t careful biological urges would take over. This led to the second part of his problem. He wanted her. He wanted her in the worst sort of way—but not like this. Not when she wasn’t in full possession of her faculties. Not when there was even the slightest chance she might not remember the next morning. He finally decided to answer the question.

“I’d have to be dead for a year and six feet under not to like that,” he informed her, his jaw clenched tightly. “Even then, I think it still might make me hard for a week.”

 

She reached behind to unfasten the bra when he stopped her. “Not like this,” he said grabbing her hands. “First, when it’s time for us to have sex, I’m going to be the one to take that off. Second, we’re not having sex tonight. Not like this.”

“Well, really!” She blew out a frustrated breath. “That’s not quite fair. If you weren’t going to deliver, then you should have let me go home with Pierce.”

“Sweetheart, Pierce was wearing more jewelry than you are,” he reminded her as he led her towards her bathroom. “Now you get in there a take a shower and put on … well whatever it is you sleep in.”

“How do you know I don’t sleep in the nude?” she pouted.

“Because you own too many clothes to sleep in the nude.” He pushed her into the bathroom. “And pajamas. Not some flimsy night thingie that’s even skimpier than your underwear. I’m going to make coffee.”

“I don’t want coffee,” she yelled over her shoulder as he pulled the bathroom door closed. “Open us a bottle of wine.”

Dan waited until he heard the sound of the shower and then strode to the small kitchen to make coffee. He was familiar with the apartment, since it had once been Trixie’s; Liz hadn’t bothered to rearrange anything except for clothes. The second bedroom had become some sort of huge closet for all her shoes, clothes, hats, scarves, anything that had to do with how she dressed. He stopped then as he remembered the lingerie she’d been wearing. Good grief, she probably had as much of that as she did clothes. He was doomed. He’d just started to get a good control on his desire when the thought of her scantily clad in all sorts of lingerie was making it difficult to swallow, much less make coffee.

He slammed the box of coffee filters down on the counter and counted to ten. Once he hit ten he rolled his eyes and shook his head. Hell, he was the one that needed a shower. An ice cold shower. Taking deep breaths, he managed to start the coffee. While it was brewing he took two bottles of water out of the fridge and placed them on the table. He’d insist she drink those first. He paced the small kitchen as he tried to devise a plan. Maybe if I just look at her feet? he thought. That would do it. She’s drunk enough not to realize I’m not looking at her, and so long as I’m looking toward her, that should work.

Noticing the sound of the shower hadn’t stopped, he quickly strode to the door of the apartment. Normally, he hated the security in the building, but this was one time when the lack of heat in the dimly lighted hallways worked. It was cold enough to allow him to get himself under control. Two turns up and down the hallway and he was convinced he could manage. Just look at her feet, he reminded himself as he returned to the apartment and the small kitchen. The water wasn’t running anymore, so he knew she’d be out in a minute.

“Dan?” the small voice had him turning and he automatically sought her out, breathing in relief. She was wearing a white terry cloth robe and her long, wet hair was piled onto her head in a messy sort of knot. Her feet were bare. “Did you open the wine?”

“Coffee,” he insisted as he guided her to the table. “No more alcohol for you. Just coffee and water. First, drink this.” He handed her the first bottle of water. “Do you have any aspirin?”

“In the bathroom,” she replied. “Cabinet over the sink.”

It only took a few moments to find the bottle and return to the kitchen. He refused to let himself get sidetracked by the smells in her bathroom. When Trixie lived there it had always seemed that a fresh, citrus, smell lingered in that room. Now, it was still fresh, but more like honey than citrus, and clean. He shook his head in disbelief at his thoughts. Like clean has a smell! Mart would make me surrender my man card if he knew what I was thinking.

 

He returned to the kitchen and was pleased to see she’d finished one of the bottles of water. Shaking them out of the container, he handed her three aspirin. She looked at his and raised a questioning brow. “Three?”

“You’re small enough that should do the trick instead of four. Can you handle more water?”

“Yes, Daniel. That’s no problem so long as you understand that I’ll be up and down in the bathroom all night. You want me to put coffee on top of two bottles of water?”

“Trust me; you’ll thank me in the morning. Just do it, Lizard.”

Obediently, she swallowed the pills and downed about a third of the water.

“Satisfied?” she asked.

“For now,” he said. “Now start on the coffee and tell me what possessed you to go to the Dog Wagon?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t finished drinking.”

“Why were you drinking?”

“Because I wanted to forget,” she replied staring at the cup of coffee. The mug was one she’d moved with her from Tennessee with a picture of Elvis and the Graceland emblem adorning it. She traced the outline as she avoided looking at him.

“What did you want to forget?”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It matters, Dixie. Tell me.”

She sighed and looked up at him. “It’s a long story.”

He grinned. “You said we had all night. You might as well tell me the story, because I’m not leaving until you do.”

 

 

Memphis, Tennessee
Earlier that Day

 

“You paid for a private detective to investigate Dan?” Liz looked up from the file folder her mother had thrust at her in disbelief. “What on earth provoked you to do such a thing, Mother?”

Beverly Annabella Barrington, or Babs, strongly disliked the moniker of mother. For as long as Elizabeth Anne Wilson could remember, she had been told to call her mother by her first name, Beverly. The fact that Liz dared refer to her by a title she despised should have been the first indication things were not going to go well. The only thing worse than “Mother” would to have been to use the litany of names she had acquired as the result of her many marriages: Beverly Annabella Barrington-Wilson-Davenport- Ainsworth-Howell-Edwards. This time, as was her custom, Babs Edwards ignored the name and plowed on.

“The fact that you’re dating him, darling. Once your father told me that you were serious about this Daniel Mangan person, I immediately asked Clyde to find me an investigator.”

Clyde was her attorney … her divorce attorney. She kept him on retainer because in the end, it was worth every penny. She was now Mrs. Samuel Edwards, a title she obtained as the result of marriage to her fifth husband. Liz knew -- they all knew -- he would not be her last. She would divorce him within five years. She always did. Fortunately, by the time Liz had lived with Arthur Davenport and then Jameson Ainsworth, her father intervened and brought her to live with him, along with his former mother-in-law, her beloved Grandmother.

It had worked out for the best. Not only did it give her the stability and family life she craved, but she only had to see her mother when her mother needed a daughter to roll out for society. Fortunately, Liz escaped some of it – but she had still won her first beauty contest at the age of three. The pageant circuit had been one of the ways Beverly tried to mold her daughter into her own twisted vision of a trophy child. There were times Liz wondered why she hadn’t turned into a raving sociopath, but she hadn’t. Thanks to the intervention of her father, and the supervision of her grandmother, some degree of normalcy (as much as possible for the child of Beverly Annabella Barrington) was introduced into her life.

“Clyde hired a private detective to investigate Dan?” Liz could hardly believe the irony of the situation. “Mother, you must be certifiably insane. I’m a private investigator. If there was something about Dan you wanted to know, you could’ve asked me.”

“Oh pish-posh,”Beverly waved a hand in dismissal. “Darling, you would never dig like Clyde’s man. You’re much too ethical. Just like your father. It’s important to know about a person’s family, to understand where they come from.”

“I already know about Dan’s family. His parents are dead; they’ve been dead for a long time. His only known relative is his Uncle Bill. And of course, Mr. Maypenny was his guardian for some time. He thinks of him as a grandparent serving in the parental role. You know, much like I think of Granny as my mother.”

The dig went right over Beverly’s head. “Of course my Mother is an important member of your family, Liz, but that’s not the same as this Maypenny character. Do you realize he hasn’t held a job since he retired from the Navy?”

“I may have heard something like that,” Liz acknowledged. “But you needn’t make it sound as if serving your country is a crime.”

“Of course it’s not,dear. Why, the Barrington's have a long history of military service. Your great-grandfather was a graduate of West Point, and as you know, many of our family served as officers under General Washington during the Revolution.”

Liz barely managed not to roll her eyes. Her mother had an uncanny knack of finding the relatives that made them look good. The ancestors who were part of the penal colony sent to populate Georgia were of course completely ignored, despite the fact that they were the reason the Barringtons had ended up in West Tennessee. She quickly decided that the conversation was going nowhere.

“There’s no reason for you to investigate Daniel.” She handed the folder back to her mother.

“But darling, there is nothing for you to gain by an alliance with this man! He doesn’t have any money, his family tree is dismal, and his prospects are less than brilliant. Goodness gracious, but he’s in law enforcement! At this point she actually shuddered. “He didn’t even have the good sense to go after a military commission like his father was doing before he died.”

“Mother, those things only matter to you. They don’t matter to me. I’m going to insist that you stay out of this. First of all, Dan and I are only dating casually. We’re just getting to know each other. Secondly, I already know what’s important to me and it’s not the same things that are important to you.”

“Yes, yes, we’re all of us familiar with Granny’s silly little list of seven things, but darling, you absolutely must insist on a pre-nup with this man.”

“Mother!” She took a deep breath. She hadn’t meant to yell, it had just come out. She lowered her voice the second time. “Mother, marriage is not on the table. Like I just told you – we’re just casually dating. That’s all.”

“You’re sleeping with him!” The accusation flew out.

“That’s not any of your business,” Liz refused to discuss the more personal aspects of her relationship with her mother. And she would never admit that she was following Granny’s list of things to know before she slept with Dan. For some reason, it was important to her.

“Oh dear.” Beverly wrung her hands, distraught with that reply. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you? That’s why you came home to visit your father isn’t it? To tell him you’re pregnant. Listen darling, it’s an enlightened world out there. You don’t have to keep it. My doctor …”

“Dammit, mother. I. AM. NOT. PREGNANT!” The words came out in a scream. From there, the screaming match between mother and daughter disintegrated into something far worse. It was bad enough that her father’s housekeeper called him at the office and told him to come home to diffuse the situation, but it was too late.

Liz was furious. So furious, that she informed both her parents that the chance of her returning to Memphis for another visit was about the same as of the two of them getting back together. With that parting shot, she flew out of the house in such a rage that she left her luggage behind. Not that she’d ever miss the wardrobe she was leaving. She’d already realized that Trixie’s former apartment couldn’t begin to hold all her clothing.

The silence that descended on the elegant mansion was deafening. Winston Jefferson Wilson turned and looked at his ex-wife. He had to admit, he’d known what she was when he married her, but he’d mistakenly thought that a child would settle her down. Despite the warnings from Beverly’s own mother, he’d insisted they could make it work. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Now his mother-in-law was more like a mother to him than his own mother had ever been. Never once had she told him “I told you so.”

“Did you really have a private investigator investigate this Dan person?” he asked wearily.

“Naturally, I did. If you’ll just take a look at the report …”

He waved her away. “Of course you did. If only you’d have had the good sense to investigate me back in the day, perhaps we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

She sniffed. “I’m smarter now. It took me a few tries to get things right.”

Winston made no effort to hide his disgust. “Yes, of course, Beverly. We all know just how right you get it. Let’s just hope that Dan doesn’t feel the same way and decide to investigate my family.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?” A tinkling laugh accompanied the question as if dismissing it as almost ridiculous.

“What on earth would he think if he investigated my mother?”

 

 

She shook her head as she finished the story. “My mother is never going to learn that I’m not her. That I don’t want the things she does. There’s no point in trying to please her.”

“You mother actually had me investigated?” Dan was taken aback. Not that it mattered; he was sure that his career in law enforcement would result in numerous background investigations over the years. His short career in a gang would surface again and again, but at this point, it was actually helping his career not hurting it. Unless he decided to run for president, it was going to be a non-issue.

“My mother had you investigated,” she confirmed. “So after all that screaming, in the end I just left and took Daddy’s plane back home. It has a bar, but he doesn’t stock wine. Just liquor and beer. So I drank every bit of his scotch.”

“You drank an entire bottle of scotch?” Dan was taken aback.

“No silly,” she giggled. A sign she still wasn't sober. “It wasn’t full. It was some 100 year old expensive crap he keeps to impress his clients.” She shrugged, not realizing the fact that she called the expensive scotch “crap” was another sign to Dan that she was still under the influence. “After that I switched to beer, and it was tolerable ...”

She shrugged. “By that time it was working, so it just seemed like the thing to do, just keep drinking. After we landed in White Plains, the train was just about to leave,so I took it to Sleepyside. When I got here there were some cabs waiting, so I hopped in one and asked him to take me to the closest bar.”

She frowned. “You know, it's really easy to do that kind of thing when you don't have any luggage. But anyhows ... that’s how I got to the Dog Wagon. Then I met Spike and Pierce and the guys. They really were very nice, Daniel. I promise. They kept buying me drinks and we shot some pool. They wanted me to go home with them, but on the plane I’d already decided to forget Granny’s list and I made my own.”

“You made your own list?” This was getting interesting. Liz had hinted at a couple of the things on her Grandmother’s list but she’d never shared the complete list. “How do you know it’s a better list?”

“Because it’s a totally different list.”

She gave another drunken giggle. Dan decided if he kept her talking, he could get some more coffee down her. He nudged the cup towards her. “How are they different?”

It worked; she picked up the mug and took another sip before she answered. “Granny always thinks it’s important to understand a man’s character. She always wanted me to know how he spent his money, and how he treated his mother, how he earns a living, stuff like that. I decided to take her seven things and replace them with seven things about sex that I’d like to try.” She paused and looked up at him with clear eyes. “Things I’d like to try with you.”

“With me?” He swallowed as he tried to remember walking up and down the unheated hallway and his work schedule for the last six months, anything but imagining sex with Liz.

“Yes.”

“Like sex in a public place and in a car?” He remembered her comments from earlier. “You want to do that with me?”

“Yes, and in the shower, and on the phone, and with some sex toys, and outside, and even tied up.”

He cringed when she said tied up. That was never going to happen, not with him. He was also determined it wouldn't happen with anyone else either. In view of that, he kept talking. “Are you saying that if we’d had sex outside in the parking lot like you wanted, you could’ve crossed three of your seven things off the list?”

She frowned as she considered what he said. “I guess you’re right. I knew I should’ve insisted we take advantage of that moment. God knows when we'll get a chance like that again!” Brightening as she realized he hadn’t actually ruled anything out, although she'd sobered up enough to pick up on the cringe; she switched from a frown to a cheerful smile. “But we don’t have to worry about the list tonight if you don’t want to. We can just have wild and crazy sex all night long.” She looked around the room. “We can’t do all those things tonight anyway because I don’t have any sex toys or anything to tie you up with.”

Dan shook his head. In one night, Elizabeth Anne Wilson had managed to turn everything he knew about her upside down. Half of him wished he had used his phone and taken video of her comments, another part wished he'd just recorded her drunken ramblings, and still another part wanted to listen to that desire deep in his … well yeah, that desire, and make love to her all night long.

“Sweetheart, when the time is right I promise to help you mark as many things off your list as you want, but there’s no way anyone is ever going to tie me up.”

“Hmmmm…. I see. There must be a story there I'll have to figure out sometime. But don't worry, there are other things we can use to replace that,” she informed him loftily. “It’s a couple of hours from Memphis to New York and I did my research.”

He stood up, mostly to distract himself, but he used the moment to get another bottle of water from her fridge. Handing it to her, he ordered her to drink and was surprised when she obliged. “What kind of things?” he finally asked.

Placing the empty bottle on the table, she smiled. “Oral sex, mutual masturbation, standing up, whipped cream, in a tent, oh – and of course the mile high club.” She shook her head sadly. “If only you’d been with me, we could have marked that one off the list on the way back from Memphis”

“Yep, and I could've made sure you were sober, so I doubt we’d even be having this conversation if I’d been there.” He held out a hand. “Come on, you’re going to bed. Tomorrow is already here and you need to get some rest.”

They made it to her bedroom with one stop at the bathroom, and he was fine until she slid off the white terry cloth robe. It wasn’t that what she had on was sexy. It was a simple tee-shirt—his tee-shirt, with the New York Police Department emblem on it. He had no idea how she’d ended up with it, but he had no doubt it was his and it was almost his undoing. The knit material clung to her slight curves in a way that obliterated all of his efforts to ignore her allure.

“Are you sure you don’t want to …” Her voice trailed off. She was sobering up.

Dan clenched his teeth. Heaven knew how much he wanted exactly what she was offering. He wanted to bury himself inside her, show her how it could be between them, make love until dawn and then start all over again. He’d wanted her for years, since Trixie had first introduced them back in college and now here she was. Practically naked and offering that very thing, but … He blew out a breath of sheer frustration. Not like this.

“Not tonight.”

She bit her lip. “You don’t want me like that.”

He bit back a hoarse laugh. “The alcohol’s impacted your vision. If you haven’t been able to see how much I want you like that, then that’s an entirely new blow to my ego. But yes -- I want you like that. I want you like all those ways you mentioned. Hell, I even want to join that mile-high club with you, but not tonight. It has to be … you have to be …” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Get in the bed, Lizard. It’s not happening tonight. “

“Will you stay until I fall asleep?”

“Why?”

“Because if you’re here then I won’t think about Mummy and … please, Dan. Stay.”

He nodded and then carefully tucked her into the large, plush bed before walking around to the other side and kicking off his shoes. Stretching out next to her, he wondered what he could do that would keep him from literally exploding with desire. He stared up at the ceiling and then something occurred to him. He rolled to his side and studied her. It was safe, she was completely covered. With a frustrated exhalation, he started talking.

“So,Elizabeth...” He started, measuring his words and watching her face. He was almost certain she was getting sleepy. “What exactly are these seven things you need to know about me anyway? We could save a lot of time if you'd just tell me what they are.”

She frowned as she contemplated her answer and he groaned inwardly. The little tart even managed to look like a sex kitten with crease lines across her brow. “That's not how it works,” she said slowly. “I have to learn these things about you in the process of getting to know you. But I already know at least one of them. It was easy to figure out, because… well, you don't have a mother.”

Dan knew not to be offended by the phrasing of her statement. “What do you need to know about my mother?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she replied cheerfully. “Granny says that one of the things we have to know about the man we plan to mar --- uh, sleep with, is how he treats his mother. That one doesn't count because ...” She stopped and realized what she'd said before. She turned beet red and stammered. Dan was hopeful it meant she was sobering up. “Of course you have a mother, Daniel. I don't know what I was thinking, saying it that way. But I see how you treat Mrs. Belden and Mrs. Wheeler, even Mrs. Vanderpoel, so I'm not too worried about how you would've treated your mother.”

Dan nodded and wondered if it was time to be candidly honest or allow himself to take the get-out-of-jail free card she'd unknowingly offered him. Honesty, the voice in the back of his head said. It was that same damn voice that had kept him from having any fun during the course of events that evening.

“Actually, before she died, I didn't treat my mother very well at all,” he said carefully. “You know the story of how I came to Sleepyside, right?”

“Mostly,” she said with a yawn, giving him hope again that she was beginning to wind down for the night. “But tell me anyway. I like bedtime stories.”

He nodded and rolled to his back. It would be easier to tell with his eyes closed. “It was one of those really cold winters with lots of snow.”

“Once upon a time …” she interrupted with a yawn. “Good bedtime stories all start out with once upon a time.”

He grinned. He’d omit the part about his mom and the gang initiation. That was not for tonight. “Once upon a time, in a great big city there was a punky, smart-ass teenage boy. He had dark hair and an attitude bigger than the Empire State Building.”

“Don’t tell me if it doesn’t have a happy ending,” she interrupted again and stifled another yawn. “I like happy endings.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. This one has the happiest ending of them all.”