Local Hero

get enough reality from nine to five.”
    “Not you.” Unaware of the tug-of-war she was causing inside him, she turned in his arms. “You make fantasies from nine to five, or whatever hours you choose.”
    “You should hear the one I’m making up now.” He drew another deep breath. “Let’s walk some more, and you can tell me about one of yours.”
    “A fantasy?” Her stride matched his easily. “Mine isn’t nearly as earthshaking as yours, I imagine. It’s just a house.”
    “A house.” He walked toward the park, hoping they’d both be a little steadier on their feet by the time they reached home. “What kind of house?”
    “A country house, one of those big old farmhouses with shutters at the windows and porches all around. Lots of windows so you could look at the woods—there would have to be woods. Inside there would be high ceilings and big fireplaces. Outside would be a garden with wisteria climbing on a trellis.” She felt the sting of winter on her cheeks, but could almost smell the summer.
    “You’d be able to hear the bees hum in it all summer long. There’d be a big yard for Radley, and he could have a dog. I’d have a swing on the porch so I could sit outside in the evening and watch him catch lightning bugs in a jar.” She laughed and let her head rest on his shoulder. “I told you it wasn’t earthshaking.”
    “I like it.” He liked it so well he could picture it, white shuttered and hip roofed, with a barn off in the distance. “But you need a stream so Rad could fish.”
    She closed her eyes a moment, then shook her head. “As much as I love him, I don’t think I could bait a hook. Build a tree house maybe, or throw a curveball, but no worms.”
    “You throw a curveball?”
    She tilted her head and smiled. “Right in the strike zone. I helped coach Little League last year.”
    “The woman’s full of surprises. You wear shorts in the dugout?”
    “You’re obsessed with my legs.”
    “For a start.”
    He steered her into their building and toward the elevators. “I haven’t had an evening like this in a very long time.”
    “Neither have I.”
    She drew back far enough to study him as they began the ride to her floor. “I’ve wondered about that, about the fact that you don’t seem to be involved with anyone.”
    He touched her chin with his fingertip. “Aren’t I?”
    She heard the warning signal but wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. “I mean, I haven’t noticed you dating or spending any time with women.”
    Amused, he flicked the finger down her throat. “Do I look like a monk?”
    “No.” Embarrassed and more than a little unsettled, she looked away. “No, of course not.”
    “The fact is, Hester, after you’ve had your share of wild oats, you lose your taste for them. Spending time with a woman just because you don’t want to be alone isn’t very satisfying.”
    “From the stories I hear around the office from the single women, there are plenty of men who disagree with you.”
    He shrugged as they stepped off the elevator. “It’s obvious you haven’t played the singles scene.” Her brows drew together as she dug for her key. “That was a compliment, but my point is it gets to be a strain or a bore—”
    “And this is the age of the meaningful relationship.”
    “You say that like a cynic. Terribly uncharacteristic, Hester.” He leaned against the jamb as she opened the door. “In any case, I’m not big on catchphrases. Are you going to ask me in?”
    She hesitated. The walk had cleared her head enough for the doubts to seep through. But along with the doubts was the echo of the way she’d felt when they’d stood together in the cold. The echo was stronger. “All right. Would you like some coffee?”
    “No.” He shrugged out of his coat as he watched her.
    “It’s no trouble. It’ll only take a minute.”
    He caught her hands. “I don’t want coffee, Hester. I want you.” He slipped her coat from her shoulders. “And I want you so bad it makes me jumpy.”
    She didn’t back away, but stood, waiting. “I don’t know what to say. I’m out of practice.”
    “I know.” For the first time his own nerves were evident as he dragged a hand through his hair. “That’s given me some bad moments. I don’t want to seduce you.” Then he laughed and walked a few paces away. “The hell I don’t.”
    “I knew—I tried to tell myself I didn’t, but I knew when I went out with you tonight that we’d come back