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pretty sure we’re about the same age. You’re not an authority figure in a position to take advantage of me. I’m fairly certain I have the mental capacity and emancipation to decide if I want to see you or talk to you or do things to you without being imposed upon. It isn’t, in short, your decision whether I want to fuck you or not,” she finished emphatically. He shut his eyes, shook his head slightly and smiled. It was a heart-stopping smile, all crooked roguishness and pure sex.
    “So do you want to?” he challenged.
    “I’m undecided at this point, but the odds are pretty good.”
    “That’s unfortunate. As charming as I find you, I can’t see you again. It was a mistake to call you in the first place, honestly. You could have claimed your scarf at the hospital without my interference, and the fact that I saw you today is a serious lapse in professional judgment. I don’t seem to be very good at marshaling myself around you, so it would be best if this were goodbye. I’m not going to endanger my professional ethics just because I have trouble—”
    Becca cut him off, leaning across the table and clutching his face with both hands, kissing him. She slid off her chair and moved closer without releasing him, feeling the stubble along his jaw against her palm, the silky curl of his hair in her fingers, the taste of coffee on his tongue. Abe looped an arm around her hips, holding her to him, but seemed content to sit there and be kissed by her for the entire world to see. When she raised her head with a smile, he nodded.
    “Tomorrow at six. I get off at five; it’ll give me time to shower.”
    “Good. I’ll take you bowling,” Becca said decisively. “The crap in my purse is for my sister’s bachelorette party. Just so you know,” she added. “And I decided I wanted you when I saw you bandaging that doll for a kid at the ER.”
    “Is that all I need to know?”
    “For now.”
    Abe got to his feet and walked her out.
    “Are you going to work now?”
    “Yeah. It’s just a few blocks from here. I’ll walk.”
    “Let me walk you.”
    “I’m fine. Really.”
    “Isn’t your ex-boyfriend there?” He raised his eyebrows with a grin that made her think he was probably a troublemaker, too.
    “Should be by now. Why?”
    “Just thought it wouldn’t do any real harm if I showed up with you, let him know you’ve moved on. It might make you a little more comfortable at work tonight. Knowing that he thinks you’re not alone.”
    Becca looked up at him, touched he had thought about her discomfort in working with Chris, about how she hated being alone.
    “There’s so much injustice in the world. Let me do this.”
    She nodded, feeling suddenly teary. She looked down at the sidewalk and blinked back tears. It had been a while since a guy had been kind to her. Chris, come to think of it, had never really been nice to her at all.
    “Thanks. I think I’ll take you up on that.”
     
    They walked on toward Caliccio’s, and as they drew near, she looked nervously at Abe.
    “Do I look okay? I don’t want Chris to think I’ve been a total wreck.” She looked so insecure that he almost laughed. She was gorgeous in that breezy, casual way that only really beautiful woman can get away with. Anyone else would have looked rumpled and awkward, but on Becca it was more of a careless perfection.
    “Let’s see, I think your lipstick is a little—” he murmured, leaning closer to her, pressing her a little up against the glass door of the restaurant. He slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her playfully. Becca pushed against his chest lightly, without much resolution, gripping his shirt in her hand and holding on to him. She opened her lips for him, felt the tightening in her stomach and legs as his tongue pushed into her mouth.
    “There,” he said softly. “That looks better.” Surveying her, breathing hard through parted pink lips, her hair a little disheveled in a way that made him want to mess it