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“I don’t know what’s more beautiful, the view…or you?” Jack’s arms tighten around my waist as his breath fans my ear.

Me! Me! Let it be me! a voice inside my head calls out as I pull back to look at this handsome bearded man who has come to mean so much to me. “Why choose?” My eyelashes flutter as my gaze darts up and down his ridiculously gorgeous face. “You can have both.”

“Can I, now?” he snickers, then nuzzles my neck, tickling me with the aforementioned beard. “And by that I mean…right now…”

“Mmmm, Mr. Reilly, we’re in public!” I scoff and gesture toward the expanse of Nature that stretches beyond us as far as the eye can see.

“What, you afraid that heron is gonna see us?” His eyebrows furrow momentarily before he presses his lips to mine again.

He is pretty d*mn irresistible. And we are actually not in public. We’re on my deck, but living right on the river, there’s always a ton of wildlife about: herons, eagles, hawks, raccoons, squirrels, turtles. You could do an episode of Wild Kingdom in my backyard.

I trickle a trail of kisses down his neck. “I bet Mrs. Heron wouldn’t mind if Mr. Heron brought home a few new moves.”

“I might mind, though!” comes a screeching voice to our right.

Our eyes rocket over to my neighbor’s property, and sure enough, there’s a little old woman standing with a broom in her hand, casting us an extra-snarly glare.

“Oh, Mrs. Vandeveer!” I shoot up from my position on Jack’s lap, my spine so stiff and straight, I’m ready for inspection by a drill sergeant.

Still seated in the lawn chair, Jack begins to chuckle. I can tell from the sound of his laugh that he’s looking forward to seeing how I will handle my Cantankerous Neighbor.

“Yes, that’s right, I’ve been watching you two!” She points a stubby finger in our general direction. “I haven’t had a man between these legs for going on three decades now, so I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your intercoursing to the indoors please!”

OMG, WHAT?! I don’t know what I need to worry about first, that my jaw is on the deck, that my eyes have just popped out and rolled into the river, or that my neighbor just used the word “intercoursing.” Even Jack is speechless.

I struggle to get my lips and tongue and all the other body parts required to formulate speech to all work together to push something—anything—out of my mouth as I stand there gaping at my next-door neighbor, all five feet of her with her scraggly gray curls and all the wrinkles around her…

All the wrinkles around her—oh, FFS, why does my imagination have to go *there*?

Now I’m not sure even Mr. Reilly can save me from self-imposed celibacy.