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“That is, perhaps, the politest way anyone has ever asked me if teaching swimming lessons is my life’s calling.

Sadly, it is not.” I took a sip of my drink.

“But you’ll be riveted to hear that I have a second job I’m also not passionate about, working the front desk of the children’s museum in Loch Haven. ”

“Wow,” he said, playfully matching my sarcastic tone. After a chuckle, he added sincerely, “I used to take Mia there when she was a kid. She loved the alligator exhibit.”

“I get to see the alligators every day. One of the many perks.”

“Very impressive.”

“I know. It’s a lot of humble bragging for a first date.

” I took another sip, the Guinness giving me a warm buzz.

“But the swimming stuff and the museum are just stopovers. I’m thinking of going back to school.

” I didn’t elaborate to say that the thought had only just crossed my mind for the first time about an hour ago, and I prayed he wouldn’t ask me what I would study. I had no fucking clue.

You might be conquering your field, but I’m busy treading water, Will Somerset.

Mercifully, he just nodded and said, “You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.”

It felt like a comment on my age, which opened the door for something that had been bugging me since he first proposed this dinner. “Are we going to talk about the age thing?”

He feigned confusion. “Age thing?”

“We haven’t traded birth certificates or anything, but I’m thinking there might be a slight, small, almost imperceptible age difference between us.”

“Are you calling me old?”

I clutched at imaginary pearls. “Never. That would be rude. I just feel like it would be wise to understand…”

He leaned in a little, and I got another hit of the bergamot from his cologne.

Jesus, he smells good.

I couldn’t lose my nerve now. “Is this…” I pointed at him and then back at myself. “You’ve mentioned your ex a few times. And the divorce.”

“I have.”

“Seems like it would be good to clear the air about…”

Spit it out, Nora.

Then it all came out at once like some kind of awkward word salad. “Are you just out with a younger woman because you’re hoping to impress your friends, or win back some bruised ego, or piss off your ex-wife?”

His eyes widened.

“God, it sounds so stupid now that I’ve said it out loud. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I just—” I was using my hands to talk now, feeling defensive. “You must think my ego is, like…” I stretched my hands apart. “But you’re, like, this great guy. And I’m…”

Just stop, Nora. Don’t make yourself sound even more insecure.

I held back the rest of the thought about me being an aimless swim instructor slash receptionist and let the incomplete sentence die between us.

“The divorce wasn’t easy,” he said. “Constance and I were together for almost twenty years. When she ended things, I was pretty lost. I didn’t want to admit that we had grown apart.

” He took a breath and smiled. “But if I wanted to piss her off, I could do a lot worse than take someone out on a date. Like cut off her credit cards. It’s been a year now, and I just want her to be happy.

We’ve got Mia. We ended things friendly enough. ”

I took it all in. I had spent the last hour or so looking for a weakness, a flaw, the hamartia to put this fantasy to rest. And in that moment, I knew—down to my bones—that Will was just a nice guy. A nice, successful, handsome, honorable guy.

For fuck’s sake.

“And you?” he added. “At the risk of ruining everything with sincerity, you are a breath of fresh air.”

My cheeks were hot. “So, you’re one of those elusive, drama-free, red-flag-repellent nice guys I’ve been hearing about?”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“I thought guys like you were a myth, like Bigfoot or a perfect credit score.”

He smiled, but I feigned concern.

“I’m so sorry, Will. But I don’t think it’s going to work out between you and me.” I leaned in so he could hear me, inching a little closer than before.

“Oh?” His eyes held mine in a warm gaze and he leaned in, too. That fluttery feeling in my stomach was back.

“Yeah, I’m into dirtbags.”

“Shit.” His lips curved into a half smile, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how kissable they looked. “I guess I can forget about a second date.”

“Mmm,” I said with a nod. The air between us felt a little thicker now. “I’m afraid the only way to redeem yourself at this point would be to steal my identity to finance a dogfighting ring.”

“That would get me disbarred.”

“See, that would be hot. We would be instantly more compatible if your career was suddenly in shambles.”

“Are you saying you don’t think we’re compatible?” And we were so close that if he leaned in just one more inch, his lips would be on mine.

A very large part of me knew better than to fall for the perfect guy. This guy. He was a mirage. Just a fantasy.

“Would it help if I could dig up some unpaid parking tickets?” he whispered.

I sighed. “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

I knew it was a terrible idea. But I still wanted to kiss him. Just once. Just to know what it felt like.

So I leaned in, closing the last inch between us. His lips were soft and warm, and the fluttering in my stomach turned into a heat that spread through my entire body.

Hot Mean Lawyer is fucking edible. Shit.

—

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized he lived in a massive house not too far from the bar.

He hadn’t bothered to give me a grand tour.

Instead, we fell through his front door.

A tangled ball of lusty energy and fists in hair.

Somewhere in his foyer, I had feverishly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off to reveal a well-toned upper body.

But he slowed things down as he led me up to his palatial master suite, where he kissed every inch of my body, peeling off the Anthropologie number. It was a foreign experience to be with someone like Will—someone older—who was in no rush. He liked the foreplay.

You go to bed with the Hot Mean Lawyer on the first date. Trust me on this. You just do.

My skin heated under his touch—every nerve ending keenly, maddeningly alert. I felt worshipped, possessed even. I was so aware of the heat building in the center of me—and he was, too. When he knew I wasn’t going to last much longer, even then, it was purposeful.

I’m ruined.

The orgasm rippled through my body in a way that I wouldn’t have thought was possible, and I was pretty sure I’d never experience it again.

As we both fell back in his bed, I held my breath a little.

I knew from previous trysts, this was where things could get weird.

I prepared myself for Will to start awkwardly distancing himselffrom me or worse, professing his love or bursting into tears or something.

But he just looked over at me in bed, sated and a little starry-eyed, and said, “You are really beautiful. You know that?”

Sometime soon, I will walk-of-shame my way out of his place and I might never see him again. But there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I will fantasize about this night for the rest of my life.

I blushed a little as I looked around the room. “What is this place? Do you live in a luxury hotel?”

“Sorry it’s not a cot in the back of a restaurant.” He propped himself up on his bent arm, watching me carefully, like he was studying me.

“I’m sure the cot has its advantages. Like fast access to snacks.

” I sat up, sheet wrapped around my chest, and took in the room.

There was a row of windows that looked out over the lake, and I could see lights from surrounding docks.

“It must be a dream to watch the sunrise from here.” I didn’t bother to hide the awe in my voice.

“Come here.” He pulled me back down into the warmth of his arms.

And the feeling of his chest on my bare skin was all it took.

We were back to that feeling from the booth at the bar, from the car ride to his place.

I was breathless and lust-drunk. He was tugging at my hips.

Around the time the edges of dawn started to eclipse the night, we finally fell asleep, intertwined limbs and sheets all wrapped up in the center of the bed.

And all I could think was that I would give anything to do it all over again.

—

I was treated to my first taste of the Winter Park gossip mill a week later when I noticed a pack of moms at the club watching me much more closely than usual.

Quinn was practicing her freestyle, and their appraising eyes followed me up and down the length of the pool as she and I worked through her lesson.

“Do I have something on my face?” I finally asked her as we reached the shallow end for a break.

Quinn looked me over. “I don’t think so.”

“Feels like people are staring.”

She just shrugged and said, “Maybe it’s because my mom says you went on a date with Mr. Somerset.”

My cheeks flushed as I looked back at the moms. Thanks to my sunglasses, I was able to take a longer look without them noticing me staring.

I could see it now. The judgmental “Her?” glare in their eyes.

And as I scanned their faces, I recognized one of them.

The woman from the couple Will had been talking to when I walked up for our date.

She was in the middle of some kind of monologue with her audience, sneaking discreet glances my way here and there.

“Do you like-like him?” Quinn asked, drawing my attention back to her.

“If I tell you, are you going to go tell all of them?”

She flashed a cheeky grin. “Are you going on another date with him?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Bo-ring.”

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get a Diet Coke. My treat this time.”

We climbed out of the pool and headed toward the outside bar. I did my best not to notice the disapproving looks of the mothers who had gathered to speculate about Will and me. In truth, their harsh glares felt like knives in my back.