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have it open yet?” Matt asked, resurfacing in record time. He wore jeans and an old gray sweatshirt. Only his feet were bare as before.
    Sarah grimaced, wrestling with the bottle. “Cork seems to be stuck.”
    “Here, let me help with that.”
    He stepped forward to take the bottle, and Sarah’s heart beat faster. It was hard to forget what being in his arms had been like. More impossible still to erase the memory of his kiss.
    Matt easily opened the wine and poured them each a glass. Once he’d set some cheese and crackers on a platter, they each settled down on one of the barstools abutting the center island.
    “I’m sorry I walked in on you that way,” Sarah began.
    “Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. You had no way to know I was out here.”
    “No.”
    It niggled at Sarah that neither of them had brought up their previous night together. Her practical side longed to finally clear the air, but her more emotional self wasn’t sure she could take it. Being told by a guy why you weren’t appealing to him was never a joy. Although she’d guessed her besotted behavior had something to do with it, she’d always had a feeling there’d been something more. Something else about that evening she hadn’t completely understood.

    They sat for a moment in awkward silence, both nibbling on cheese and crackers as the storm continued to rage outdoors. At this pace, there’d be no getting out of here tomorrow, or maybe even the day after that. Though it was hard to focus on leaving with the soft light from the kitchen surrounding Sarah in its homey glow. She looked so sweet sitting there in her pajama pants and sweatshirt, just like a vision from a dream. He’d watched her dreaming once before.
    “Sarah?” he asked, then sipped from his wine. “Can I ask you a question?”
    “I don’t see why not.”
    “Why did you tell me to go?”
    She glanced at him, taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected the question. “Me?”
    “Yes. You . And that was after a whole night of you begging me to—”
    “Matt, I don’t see why you…” She set down her wine, seeming to grow uncomfortable. “What I mean is, that’s all ancient history.”
    He set down his wine as well and laid his hand on top of hers. “Is it?”
    Her cheeks colored slightly. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. That wasn’t me. I’m normally not like that.”
    “Let’s hope not!” he said with a laugh.
    She withdrew her hand, affronted. “What do you mean?”
    “All sick and pukey? Most girls wouldn’t want to live through that twice.”
    “Sick and…?” Her voice fell off with the shock.
    “Yes, Sarah. You were deathly ill. All over your bridesmaid’s dress, in fact. I had to take it off to clean it.”
    “I what?”
    “That’s probably why you repeatedly begged me to please forget this in the morning. ”
    “I said that?”
    “Well, yeah, between, you know…” He motioned with his hands, and she got the picture. “Not that I totally blamed you. I wasn’t up for remembering certain parts of it myself. Hang on, are you saying you don’t remember?”
    She shook her head, her cheeks blazing brightly.
    “Not even the part about making me swear I’d leave, just get out of your life, and never breathe a word about it to anybody?”
    She pursed her lips, struggling with a murky memory. “I remember making you swear, swear…something.” Big brown eyes met his. “But to be honest with you, Matt, most of the night is a great big blur.”
    “Then it’s a good thing nothing happened between us,” he said, lightly teasing. “For most men, that admission could be a killer.”

    Her eyes lit with understanding. “So…we didn’t?”
    “No.” He cocked his chin to the side. “We didn’t. Not that I didn’t want to, mind you. Especially when we first got back to your place, and you kissed me like a house on fire. Heck, I’m only human. But, I wouldn’t have. Never like that. Not once I realize your condition.”
    “And