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dumped that fancy egg dish down the garbage disposal,” Stanley called from across the room. “It’s okay if I just scoop it back in, right?”
    With a quick squeal, Rosie rushed back across the room.
    Bradley grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her into the living room. “What?” Mary asked.
    “I’ve got to make this quick,” Bradley grinned, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her close.
    She wound her arms around his neck, “Just not too quick,” she teased.
    He pulled her tighter and lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was deliberate and tender and caused a slow burn in Mary’s midsection. Mary let out a soft moan.
    “Mary, are you okay in there,” Rosie called out.
    “Damn you, woman, leave those young people alone to say hello,” Stanley growled. “ Ain’t you got no romance in your soul?”
    Mary laid her head against Bradley’s shoulder and started to giggle. Bradley sighed and then chuckled. “He did tell me to make it quick,” he confessed.
    Mary laughed. “He’s such a romantic.”
    Then she saw the roses he was holding. “Oh, they’re beautiful,” she exclaimed, bringing them to her face and inhaling deeply. “Thank you.”
    She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him back, angling the kiss so she could appease the desire that was building. This time he moaned and, heedless of the roses between them, pulled her even closer. The world had disappeared. All that was left was a tiny island where Mary was surrounded by Bradley’s arms and tormented by his kiss. She inhaled his unique scent and knew the masculine, woodsy smell would always weaken her knees.
    Bradley finally felt that he was home. This wonderful, amazing woman loved him. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to find love twice in his life. He knew he should stop. He knew Stanley would be coming back, but he just didn’t want to let go.
    Mary wanted it to go on forever. She could be very happy just being in his arms for the rest of her life.
    “Are they okay?” Rosie whispered loudly.
    “Well, looks to me like the roses are going to end up on the casualty list,” Stanley replied.
    “Do you mind?” Bradley growled, not wanting the embrace to end.
    “No, not at all,” Stanley said calmly, “Please continue.”
    Bradley rested his forehead against hers. “Is there anything I can arrest him for?” he whispered.
    “I think obstruction of justice could be reasonably considered,” she sighed, waiting for her heart to return to its normal pace.
    He kissed her forehead. “I’m crazy about you, Mary O’Reilly.”
    She smiled up at him. “I feel the same way about you, Bradley Alden.”
    They stepped away from each other and looked across the room at Stanley. He shrugged sheepishly and ducked back into the kitchen. “You really like him, right?” Bradley asked.
    Mary laughed. “Well, right now’s not a good time to decide that.”
    He pulled the roses out from between them, the stems were bent and, in some cases, snapped in half, but the petals were still intact. He smiled guiltily as he handed them to her. She grinned as she took them. “I never understood the big deal about long-stemmed roses anyway,” she said.
    With a delighted laugh, he placed his arm around her shoulders and led her into the kitchen.

Chapter 8
    Stanley paused, his filled fork halfway between his plate and his mouth, “So, you’re saying her husband beat her to death?”
    Mary shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “She was fairly incoherent. There were two things that stood out in the conversation. Her husband’s mother abandoned her children. She was pregnant and when she told someone, most likely her husband, he beat her and told her that she would abandon her children too.”
    “That’s not uncommon,” Rosie said quietly.
    “What?” Mary asked.
    “It’s not uncommon for someone who has been abused to become an abuser,” she said, “And, unfortunately, if they don’t become an abuser, they often find a relationship where