Free Men in Shorts: An Erotic Anthology by Lori Perkins

program."

    Christine, whose nephew was as likely to apply for the internship as he was to win a Nobel Prize this year, nonetheless answered, "I would. That would be really helpful."

    "Well, uh," he coughed, "Have you been to the Roundhouse? It's a bit rough looking, but the food is fresh and I think it's going to be a beautiful night. We could eat out on the terrace."

    "Sounds perfect," Christine said, allowing herself to smile a little, but holding back from grinning like an idiot, which is what her mouth wanted to do—that and fasten itself on his lips to see how he tasted. The Roundhouse was on the north end of the park, a popular spot despite its rustic ambience. "What time?"

    "Seven?" She nodded. "Looking forward to it."

    He touched her arm, but said no more but she could see the glow on his face. He waved and walked away. Christine enjoyed watching him go, his strong legs striding across the path and up the slope toward the ranger station. She hoped he wasn't going to change out of the uniform before seven and deprive her of those blonded knees.

    Christine, however, did change her clothes after a dreamy session with her Hitachi, picturing that shy smile and those bronzed legs thrusting between her own, and a nice warm shower that left her feeling a pleasant languor. She made sure to be early so she could order a martini in the tiny bar and see him arrive. Christine wore a simple Land's End blouse and skirt, figuring it would be the best choice. Somehow Rafferty didn't look like the dress-up type, which was just as well.

    She saw him through the window as he arrived, still clad in his work wear. Christine felt a thrill of excitement as she raised her hand in a wave. He smiled and stepped into the bar, laying his hand on her arm in a kind of greeting.

    "Sorry if I'm late!" he apologized a little breathlessly but with a dazzling smile. "There was a group of teens that proved to be a real handful. We only just got them all back on the bus and headed home. I didn't have time to change," he complained, picking at the front of his green shirt.

    Christine laughed. "Not to worry. I don't think there's a dress code here and anyway, I think you look great." She let her eyes drift down to his dusty shorts and back up to that singular face.

    Rafferty seemed to be pleased by her interest. "Shall we see if we can be seated now?" He took her elbow in his arm, a gesture that surprised her in someone his young age. He must have a great mother, Christine mused. A pleasurable sense of anticipation grew with the heat of his hand on her arm, so it was a jarring moment when she realized Barb was waving excitedly at her as they walked up to the maître d's podium.

    "Christine—and Ranger Rafferty! How funny to see you both here." Barb's voice betrayed a tang of bitterness, but Christine saw Rafferty blanch a little at her effusiveness. "Join us! Oh, you must!"

    "Us" turned out to include another of Barb's boy toys, a taciturn young man named Tad. Christine tried to demur, but Barb was insistent and the four of them sat down together at a choice table.

    Over hors d'œuvres and a bottle of too-sweet Chablis – Barb's choice – conversation flagged frequently despite Barb's attempts to dig into Rafferty's life. Christine admired the way he sidestepped her persistence, deflecting a question about girlfriends with claims of being too busy with his work. "Oh, I can't believe that," Barb insisted. "You must meet so many women ready to share the wild life with you."

    "No, never happens," Rafferty said, trying not to betray the growing irritation that Christine shared.

    "Well, it's nice that you're willing to spend an evening with a mature woman," Barb said, laying extra emphasis on the final two words.

    Christine nearly spit out her wine when Rafferty answered coolly, "I'm flattered that you invited us to share your table, ma'am. I'm sure we'll benefit from your wisdom." Barb's eyes flashed her anger, but Christine had to admire her