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pleasant. Jeeves was very talented, and she enjoyed his company. She might even say they were friends. But dating was out of the question. And she was not going to sleep with him. Not in this lifetime.
    The last few days had settled into a nice pattern. He’d come over for coffee in the morning. They would visit, sometimes smooch, Medusa would eat, and then he and the dog would leave. In the evenings, she went to their house. There was wine or beer, ten minutes of groping on the couch, and sometimes a movie. Last night, they played backgammon.
    Myrtle finished the sale and returned to the conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “So, why won’t you date him?”
    “For God’s sakes, Myrt, he’s not in this for the long haul, okay? He’s going to get bored here. Life in Port Grable can’t compete with his old life. He’s going to realize, probably soon, that all he was looking for was a vacation, not a lifestyle change.”
    “And?”
    “He’s not permanent.”
    “So?”
    Charlie made the internationally recognized scoffing noise that meant Oh my God, you can’t be serious.  
    Myrtle held up her hands. “What? You’re the one always telling me how you don’t want a permanent relationship. You enjoy dating but don’t want to be tied down—he’s the perfect match for you. Sexy, sexy love and no commitment to freak you out.”
    “You’re right. I don’t want commitment—but I also don’t want to live next door to a guy after we break up. It’s a recipe for Disaster Cake with Calamity Frosting.”
    Myrtle remained unimpressed. “You haven’t dated anyone since Delivery Dan broke things off.”
    “The best part of dating Dan was that he only came to town on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” He distributed Budweiser to Mel’s and the other restaurants in town. For a while, he’d distributed more than beer to Charlie.
    Myrtle tsked . “That’s what I’m saying. The minute Dan started talking about moving from dating to relationship territory, you cut him off.”
    Charlie couldn’t believe how Myrtle was rewriting history. “Dan broke up with me .”
    “Don’t even try that with me. I know you made it impossible for him to not break things off. We’re getting off track here. Jeeves is every woman’s fantasy and he wants you. Why can’t you just enjoy yourself?”
    Charlie downed the rest of her cider. It was still a touch too warm and scalded her throat as it went down. “Think about it, Myrtle.” She met her friend’s eyes. “How could a girl ever go back to dating beer distributors after sleeping with one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive?” Worse, how could she ever look in a mirror again when he went back to dating the other twenty-five women featured in that issue? “He’d ruin me.”
    “Oh, Charlie.”
    “Do not feel sorry for me. Please, I’m happy. I love my life. I’m not going to ruin it by sleeping with Jeeves Allencaster. Also, I’m not going to kiss him at the Sweetheart Dance, either.”
    And she didn’t. She kissed him before the dance, so Medusa could eat, but not at the VFW hall decorated in paper hearts the colors of falling leaves. She didn’t turn him down for a dance, though, and the whole time she was in his arms, she felt her body trying to betray her.  
    Hours earlier, she’d felt the easy glide of his mouth on hers, tasted the dark ale he liked on her tongue. His hands had cupped her breast—outside of her clothes—but later, at the dance, they pretended they were friendly acquaintances. But her body wouldn’t stay indifferent. It had wanted to get closer and she found herself angling so she was teasing them both with casual “accidental” brushes of her breasts on his torso.  
    Charlie knew what was happening between them wasn’t a healthy relationship. It wasn’t normal, but hell, she was almost forty. If she wanted to kiss her neighbor and then play cards, it wasn’t anybody else’s business. If she wanted to flirt with the TV star, so be