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Con had racked his brain trying to think of some way to get over his growing
possessiveness toward Tory and he d come up blank.  Got any suggestions? Because I m
fresh out of ideas here.
Devon quirked a brow.  Actually, I do have a suggestion.
For the first time in weeks, Con felt a spark of hope.  I m all ears. Spill.
 Not yet.
 What the hell do you mean, not yet? Con cursed under his breath.  My life is spinning
out of control and you want to play twenty questions?
 I ll tell you and Tory at the same time. She should be kept in the loop here. We can t
make decisions like this without her.
 Christ. Just give me a clue here. I m drowning.
 No, you can wait and hear my idea when Tory gets home. But, I can tell you that I m
not going to book the trip to Aruba.
When Devon turned to leave, Con had the sinking feeling he d lost something.
Something he might never get back.  Devon, Con called out.
Without turning around, Devon asked,  Yeah?
 I m sorry.
 Me too, Devon mumbled. Without another word, he left.
Con wasn t sure how long he stood in the middle of the room, staring at the empty
doorway. When he heard the front door open and close, it pulled him out of his misery.
He crossed the room and sat in the brown leather couch adjacent to the desk. Was he
really going to have to choose between the woman he loved and his best friend? No.
Devon had figured something out. Whatever it was it would be a solution that would
benefit all three of them. Devon was good at fixing things. Con was good at fucking up.
When they d hatched their little plan to finally make Tory their own, it d seemed so
perfect. They d both wanted her. Both knew, even then, that they were in love with her.
At first it d been bliss. Making love to her, sharing their nights wrapped around her.
Waking up with her nestled between them. Even her snoring made him smile. There had
been a few bumps in the road, but nothing big, nothing life-altering.
He wasn t even sure when the first spark of jealousy had appeared. Not that it
mattered, because it was a full-on blaze now. The only question left unanswered: Could
he really choose between the love of his life and his best friend?
One spark could burn her world down.
Keeping Pace
© 2011 Dee Carney
Six years after her husband s death, Regina Pace is still just going through the motions,
her only pleasure a nightly glass (or three) of wine to dull the ache. Tonight is no
exception until a sensual outdoor encounter with her neighbor s son, freshly home from
college. He s older, wiser, more devastatingly handsome than she remembered. He s also
fifteen years her junior.
Despite her misgivings, it isn t long before her nightly ritual includes a long, deep drink
of Josh Smith. Ogling leads to touching, then the sparks flare into an erotic encounter
that feels wickedly right and deliciously forbidden.
Yet the intense heat can t burn away the doubt pestering the back of her mind. That
the gap between their ages is too large, even for the most determined leap of faith&
Warning: Features a boy-next-door who won t take no for an answer, more than one
sexual fantasy (including some outdoor self-loving!), and a burning romance that proves
age is just a number.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Keeping Pace:
Josh took the corkscrew from me gently.  There is definitely an art in handling this
task. Fascinated, I watched him slice the foil around the cork and then dig the metal
screw into the spongy plug. After a few quick twists, he pulled upward with ease,
dislodging the cork.
The amazement must have shown on my face. Wine sommeliers and connoisseurs
tended to be the only people I knew of who moved with such deft confidence.  I waited
tables as an undergrad, he said with a wink.  If a table ordered wine, they tended to tip
bigger. I learned how to pour a bottle properly in a hurry.
 I take it you re no longer in school? His confirmation would help me feel a little
better. Despite the casual atmosphere we d generated between us, his youth still taunted
me.
 Grad school. Almost done.
 That s amazing. And I meant it. My education didn t go further than undergraduate
schooling, despite my constantly telling myself I should return for a higher degree.
 Oh. I m sorry& I should have asked& 
His sudden change of topic and subsequent confusion baffled me until I followed his
line of sight. In my excitement, I d forgotten the glass of wine sitting next to the
telephone. Not far beyond it, the open bottle of wine I d set there earlier told a story of
its own. Now there were two bottles open.  Don t worry. Good wine never goes to
waste.
 It looks like you were going to order dinner too, though. Joshua looked chagrined.  I
can t seem to do any of this right.
 Any of what?
 It s just me over there, and I was kind of wondering if maybe you d care for some
company. He dropped his gaze, something on the parquet flooring suddenly needing his
immediate scrutiny.  I mean, if you weren t busy.
My pulse began to race. I tried to put him at ease because I was touched by his boyish
charm.  I d love to, and since you brought the wine, dinner is on me. Take your pick from
the menu, and we ll place an order.
Conversation flowed easily as we waited, which seemed odd to me. I thought there
would be lots of stops and starts, all awkward.
By the time the food came, the bottle Joshua brought was empty. I can t say who had
most of it, but I couldn t recall my glass ever being empty. Making my way to the door to
pay the deliveryman took a slight bit of concentration on my part. I didn t want to appear
buzzed in front of Joshua, despite the very same being true. His gaze rarely left me, to
the point I felt its heated caress as I walked away from him.
He made himself at home, opening the containers and sorting through my kitchen
drawers after I placed the bags on the table. My mouth watered as we were assaulted by
the scents of meat swimming in rich sauces and smoky char-grilled vegetables.
 So wait, you did all the work and they gave your project to someone else? What a slap
in the face, he said, continuing the conversation we d had before we d been interrupted
by the doorbell.
 Exactly! I don t recall when I d started telling him about Beth. Maybe sometime
around when he d asked what I did for a living. Tongue loosened with alcohol, I d easily
dished every bit of the office rivalry with him. I don t know if I would have been so bold
under other circumstances, but his attention made talking to him about it too easy.
 So what are you going to do about it? He dished out the food onto plates, and settled
into his chair.
I bit into an asparagus spear.  That s the problem, I don t really know. The PC thing to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]