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“It’s cold now, but I put the heating instructions on the top.”

“Sorry, I’m from the Midwest.” He chuckled, and had I been paying attention to more than his chest, I might have noted his slight accent. “Casseroles or, as my mom always said, hot dishes are a way of life. After my dad died when I was young, we had a full freezer for months.”

“That’s good that the community helped you.” I nodded, unsure how to express sympathy for a loss I knew only too well. “Another advantage of small-town living, not that my older kid agrees.”

“The football player? He’s lucky to be at a small school.” Percy finally took the casserole from me but seemed in no hurry to send me on my way as he walked through the small living room to the kitchen/dining room combo that mirrored my own. He stuck the wrapped casserole in the fridge. “I grew up in a small Minnesota town, but went to a county high school that pulled from all the other area small towns. Getting a starting spot on our team wasn’t easy.”

“What position did you play?” I hadn’t played myself, but I’d turned a lifelong football fandom into a volunteer position helping with Soren’s team when the previous coach had experienced some health issues.

“Running back. I wanted to be a quarterback, but there was too much competition for that spot. I settled for scoring in other ways.” He gave me a wink that went straight to my suddenly way-too-interested dick.

“I see.” I cleared my throat. “Well, I should probably let you get back to sleep.”

“That’s all you came over for?” he asked, giving me a blatantly long once-over. He had a reputation as a flirt with all genders, a trait I shared. I was drawn to confident, take-charge personalities more than a particular set of body parts, and a commanding voice like Percy’s was an added bonus. The air grew thick, not simply from the lack of air conditioning.

“To drop off the casserole and say thanks, yeah.” My voice came out ridiculously husky. “Why else would I come by?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve seen you looking when I mow or run.” Voice light, he offered another of those devastating winks. “I was hoping you might be here for the neighborly equivalent of a booty call.”

I gulped, doing a fast set of calculations. Soren was at a friend’s house while Shelby had walked the couple of blocks to her mom’s house with the leftovers from our casserole. “I could be.”

ChapterTwo

Percy

“Icould be.” Stu, my neighbor, looked the part of an art teacher or possibly an aging surfer. He wore his dark-brown hair in a messy ponytail, had what seemed like a whole collection of colorful T-shirts and board shorts, and usually sported paint smudges in a few spots on his person. Today’s shirt featured a joke about Van Gogh I didn’t quite get while his shorts had red chili peppers on them. I wasn’t the artist, so I lacked the precise color label for his warm skin tone, which made me think of Hawaii and other tropical locals. And his lips, rosy and sinfully full, inspired far more X-rated thoughts. He nodded again, like he’d come to some sort of agreement with himself.

“Thought so.” I smirked. I’d been waiting for an opportunity like this for months now. I opened the fridge and extracted two bottles of a local microbrew I’d discovered since moving to the area. “Beer?”

“Yes, please.” Stu accepted the second beer and followed my lead in opening it and taking a long sip. And lord, those lips wrapped around the cold glass bottle transformed my already active imagination into a steady stream of pornographic thoughts.

“Kids expecting you back?” I asked, using neighborly concern to disguise a necessary fishing expedition before this little visit went further.

“No. I share custody with my ex, who lives nearby.” Stu followed me back to the living room. “Shelby will likely sleep there tonight, and Soren’s with friends.”

“Excellent.” I flopped on the couch. I had been dozing in my recliner earlier but the couch suited my purposes here better. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” He perched next to me, not relaxing but not retreating to the far side of the long leather sofa.

“You still seeing that artist?” Having established that he didn’t live with the co-parent to the kids, I still had a couple of questions. The previous fall, Stu had been seen at a couple of local events with a glass artist who had worked in several area galleries, but I hadn’t seen them together all winter. Now it was July, and I hoped like hell Stu was fair game.

“Gotta love small-town gossip.” Stu gave an eye roll that made him look far younger than his actual age, which was likely his early forties. I liked his maturity. Around here, the local singles scene tended to be a lot of younger folks, which was a no-thank-you from me. I wanted sex, not a babysitting gig. Stretching, Stu finally relaxed a bit against the couch. “No, that was a brief fling. Mika wasn’t up for the whole dating a single dad thing, not that I blame them.”

“Their loss.” I took another leisurely sip of my beer. One of his many colorful T-shirts featured a goose holding a pan Pride flag, so I’d been fairly certain he swung my direction at least some of the time, even before he’d dated the nonbinary artist.

“Thanks.” As before, Stu mimicked my actions. I did like the potential here, for sure. Hot and able to follow directions well? Yes, please. Stu set his beer on a nearby end table I’d picked up at a neighborhood yard sale. “You’re single as well? I’m not opposed to casual, but I don’t do cheaters.”

“Single. Divorce cured me of any settle-down urges I might have had.” I met his gaze, trying to convey that I wasn’t the dating type. Hookups, yes. Flings, sure. But picket fences? Been there, got the heartbreak, no thank you on a repeat.

“Ah. My divorce wasn’t so bad, but we were college friends first.” He gave a vague gesture. “We’ve made it work for the sake of the kids.”

“That’s good. I moved across the country to escape the fallout from mine.” I was an open book by nature, but I also wanted to reinforce that whatever happened here wasn’t the start of some grand romance. “Hector, my ex-husband, was also the mayor.”

Stu winced. “The mayor. Ouch.”

“Told you. The aftermath sucked.” I left out the part about Hector leaving me for his much younger administrative assistant. Somehow, despite the cheating, he’d managed to keep the bulk of our friend group and town support, and I hadn’t been able to stomach staying and starting over in the same area where I’d lost my parents, my marriage, and my hopes for the future.

“I imagine so.” Stu nodded sympathetically.