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again, you can tell him I said so.”
    He reached over and smoothed some hair away from my face, then relaxed next to me. I heard his breathing grow ragged, and a few moments later I felt a small lurch where his crotch was snuggled against my backside. He pulled away from me, flopping on his back again with a rough exhal e . I feigned sleep as a small smile spread across my face.

 
    Chapter Three
    Thump-thump-thump.
    I opened one eye. 8:17. Good God.
    “ Go away,” I whined into the pillow. Must have sounded like “ Come on in,” because a half second later, Mags was poking her head t hrough the door.
    “ Are you alone?”
    I flipped over and looked at the empty space next to me, then back at her.
    “ Unless he ’ s under the bed, I ’ d say so, yes.” I had a vague memory of the alarm going off, of Ian ’ s soft lips bussing my cheek, of the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut behind him.
    Mags bounded in and bounced on the edge of the bed.
    “ Well?” she said, her eyes dancing. “ How was it?”
    I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “ How was what?”
    She grabbed a pillow and threw it at me. “ Oh, you are the most impossible child that ever did walk the planet. Don ’ t make me tell you again about giving birth to you, which was so painful that Vera had to take morphine. Is it too much to ask to be rewarded with the occasional bit of girl talk?”
    I groaned. “ Is it that you don ’ t know it ’ s wrong for a mother to want to know about her daughter ’ s sex life, or is it that you just don ’ t care?”
    She grinned and leaned forward. “ Is he a gentleman in bed? He seems the type who ’ d be concerned about your pleasu re.”
    “ Ah!” I said, cringing and waving my hands at her, trying to shake off the whole conversation. “ Stop! I can ’ t afford enough therapy to cover this.”
    Mags sighed dramatically. “ How did a daughter of mine grow up to be such a prude? I ’ m sure I don ’ t know .”
    “ I ’ m not a prude. I just don ’ t want to discuss my sex life with my mother. That ’ s not prudish. It ’ s normal.”
    “ I don ’ t understand what your problem is. Vera and Bev and I talk about sex all the time. How can you live your life without girl talk? What fun is it?” She looked at me and grinned. “ At least tell me if you got a good orgasm out of it. You know that ’ s all I wanted for you, baby.”
    I sighed and spoke loudly upon her apparently deaf ears. “ I am not discussing this with you. Is there coffee downstair s?” She gave my leg a playful pat and stood up. “ Yes, that ’ s what I came to tell you. And you ’ d better get a move on. You ’ re helping Vera run the bookstore today.”
    “ Me?” I said. “ Why? Your back ’ s fine.”
    “ Because it ’ s the family business and you ’ re family.” She looked in the mirror and poked at her hair, smoothed out her lipstick. “ And I have plans today.”
    “ Plans?” I got up and nudged her away from my dresser as I pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “ Since when did you start making plans outside of run ning the store and torturing me?” She turned away from the mirror and leaned against my dresser, crossing her arms over her midsection. “ Well, I must say I ’ m disappointed. For such a promising Flyer, I see no change in your demeanor whatsoever. Maybe we s h ould try for Greg Feeney. Didn ’ t he used to do gymnastics?”
    “ Enough!” I forced on a smile. “ I ’ m great. I ’ m fine. Happier than I ’ ve ever been. Best sex of my life. And you ’ re avoiding the question.”
    “ Oh? And what ’ s the question?”
    “ What ’ s so important today that you can ’ t go to the Page?” She gave me a wry smile. “ Is it that you don ’ t know it ’ s wrong to interrogate your mother, or that you just don ’ t care?” I smiled. “ Don ’ t be a wiseass, darlin ’,” I said in my best honey drawl. “ It ’ s not attractive.”
    “ Now the re ’ s my