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too personal, then it is.”
    “Yeah,” she agreed morosely. “You are a sight more modest than I am.” Then she ordered them both another round as the waitress came to clear her last plate.
    “I don’t want any more,” Grady informed the
    woman.
    “I’ll drink his for him,” B.J. spoke up.
    He pinned her with a disapproving wince like he wanted to warn her to slow down. But he kept his thoughts to himself, which made B.J. want to blurt out all of hers.
    “You see, the thing is,” she said. “I’m curious, is all. I want to know if the first time you were with another woman after...you know, after Amy died, did you feel guilty like...like you were cheating on her or 30

    The Trouble with Tomboys

    anything? Did you have to close your eyes and imagine her face?”
    Grady just stared at her; B.J. lifted a hand in apology.
    “Okay, I know,” she slurred. “‘Shut the hell up, B.J.’”
    She made a zipping motion across her closed
    mouth but then kept talking. “I just thought that would have to be the hardest thing to deal with after your spouse passed on. Admitting you’re still alive even though they’re not and having to move on without ’em... God .” She shivered. “That must’ve sucked. How long did you wait before you slept with someone else?”
    Grady’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”
    “How long—”
    “I heard you the first time,” he growled, his lips barely moving.
    “Then why aren’t you…”
    Her question died at the vulnerable flicker in his blue eyes. But then his jaw hardened and his nostrils flared. He jerked his gaze away, and she watched his throat work while he swallowed.
    Suddenly, it became clear.
    “Oh...my...God,” she whispered, stunned mute for a moment before she was able to yelp, “Holy shit, Slim. You mean, you haven’t had sex since—”
    She realized she was talking too loud when a couple at the next table over stopped eating to send her a scandalized scowl. Grady glared at her like he might reach across the table and strangle her.
    She lowered her voice to a hiss and leaned
    across the table. “Good God. Amy’s been dead for over two years.”
    “I know exactly how long it’s been,” he snapped, his eyes flashing hot.
    B.J. pulled away immediately, realizing how
    rude and obnoxious she sounded. “Okay, okay,” she 31

    Linda Kage

    said. “I’m backing off. I’ve definitely overstepped my bounds.”
    She closed her mouth, shutting up for about two seconds before she said, “It’s just... damn . What’re you trying to do to yourself? Win the monk of the year award?”
    Through gritted teeth, the words “I thought you said you were backing off,” rumbled from deep within his chest.
    But B.J. had drunk one beer too many. “Well, I can’t, okay. Frankly, I’m worried about you. I mean, Jesus, Slim. This is not healthy. Men have to have sex. I grew up with four guys. I know. They can’t function without it. You just need to find some anonymous woman and get yourself laid, man.”
    Grady made a sound that wasn’t quite an
    incredulous laugh and not quite a sob. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” He lifted his eyes and defensively retorted, “Guys go without sex all the time.”
    “Yeah,” B.J. snorted. “They’re called priests. And priests aren’t the normal, average guy. They got some extra spiritual thing going on that makes them high on God and not women. Now, you may be a good Christian boy and all, but you ain’t that holy.
    You’re a normal, red-blooded man, and I’m telling you, you need sex or you’ll turn into a...a serial killer or something.”
    Grady shook, looking feral, like she might be his first victim.
    “Damn it,” she continued. “Don’t you think Amy would want you to move on and someday marry
    again? Or do you think she’d want you to dig a hole next to her and bury yourself in it for the rest of your life? Because, personally, I think she’d want you to go on and live a full, happy