Free Love with the Proper Stranger by Suzanne Brockmann

is, do you?”
    “It’s, um, something to hang on the wall?”
    “It’s something to hang on the wall by your bed,” she told him. “It’s a dream catcher. Certain Southwestern Native American tribes believed having one near while you slept would keep you from having nightmares.” She held it out to him. “Who knows? Maybe they’re right. Maybe if you hang it up, you’ll be able to sleep.”
    Miller had to climb the last few steps to take the dream catcher from her hands. He wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought him anything. “Thank you,” he managed. She had been thinking about him today. They’d only met twice, and she had been thinking about him….
    That was good for the case, he tried to tell himself,but he knew the real truth. It had nothing to do with Serena Westford and everything to do with this sudden ache of desire he couldn’t seem to ignore.
    For the briefest, wildest moment, he actually considered following through on his urges to make his relationship with Mariah a sexual one. But even he couldn’t do that. Even he wasn’t enough of a son of a bitch to use her that way.
    Still, when Miller opened his mouth to take his leave, he found himself saying something else entirely. “I haven’t had dinner yet. Can I talk you into joining me? There’s a fish place right down the road…?”
    “I’m really not up to going out,” Mariah told him. “But I’ve got a swordfish steak in the fridge that I was going to throw on the grill. I’d love it if you’d join me.” She didn’t give him time to respond. “I’ve
got
to take a shower,” she said, pushing open the sliding door that led from the deck into the house. “I’ll be quick—help yourself to a beer or a soda from the kitchen.”
    She was inside the house before he could come up with a good reason why he
shouldn’t
stay for dinner. But there were plenty of reasons. Because eating here, in the seclusion of her cottage, was too intimate. Because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to maintain this pretense of wanting to be only friends. Because the thought of her in the shower while he was out here waiting was far too provocative. Because he didn’t trust himself to keep his distance.
    But Miller didn’t say anything.
    Because, despite the fact he knew he was playing with fire, he wanted to stay here with Mariah Robinson more than he’d wanted anything in years.
    * * *
    “C AR ALARMS ,” J OHN SAID as he helped Mariah carry the last of the dishes back into the kitchen. “The company makes car alarms, and in the late eighties the business boomed. I took over as CEO when my father retired. I’ve been gone too long—I need to get back to work in a month or two.”
    Mariah leaned back against the sink. “How have the sales figures been since you’ve left?”
    He shrugged. “Holding steady.”
    “Then you don’t
need
to do anything,” she told him. “Particularly not throw yourself back into the rat race before you’re physically ready. Give yourself a break.”
    He smiled very slightly. “I still look pretty awful, huh?”
    “Actually, you look much better.” Over the past few days, his hair had grown in quite a bit more. Mariah figured he must be one of those men who needed a cut every two weeks or so because his hair grew so quickly. It was dark and thick and he now looked as if he’d intentionally gotten a crew cut rather than as if he’d been attacked by a mad barber with an electric razor.
    His skin looked a whole lot less gray, too. He actually had some color, as if he’d been out in the sun for part of the day.
    His eyes were a different story. Slightly bloodshot and bleary, he still looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks.
    “Did you get a chance to look at that book I gave you?” she added.
    “Yeah.” He couldn’t hide his smile. “It was… educational. Particularly the chapter about stress reduction through sex.”
    Mariah felt her cheeks heat with a blush.