“So why not write something different?”
“Why are you a SEAL?” she countered.
Peter smiled. “Got it.”
“So, what part are you up to?” She couldn’t keep herself from asking.
“The scene in the utility closet,” he said. “During the gala at the marina?”
Oh dear.
“Your characters have a lot of sex. Not that I’m complaining. Just observing.”
“People, in general, have a lot of sex,” she pointed out.
He opened another box. “I’m not sure about that,” he said. “I’ve had more sex in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve had in the past…hell, I-don’t-know-how-many years. And your characters are even busier than we’ve been.”
Wait, what? Really? Was he saying…? Back in the truck, after that awkward friends-with-bennies conversation, he’d asked her about Carter. Was he now telling her…No, that was ridiculous. This man had definitely had sex—and a lot of it—post-Lisa.Bar hookup pattern, he’d called it. But bar hookups, by nature, were one-and-done—which made for generally shitty sex. Okay, maybe notshittyprecisely, but certainly not transcendent.
“This guy Jack,” he continued.
“The book’s hero,” she said. “Romances have two main characters—the two people who fall in love and win their HEA—actually, I prefer to sayearn. They earn their happily-ever-after.”
He lifted the box, which made the muscles in his arm do amazing things, and set it into theI have no clue if the contents are Lisa’s or Maddie’spile before turning back to her. “Right, but Jack’s got this penchant for tossing Loretta up against whatever wall is nearby, and he’s always got a handy condom in his pocket.”
“Safe sex,” Shay said as Peter moved toward her. His worn-out T-shirt fit him just fine, as did his ripped and faded cargo shorts. She cleared her throat and checked her phone. Still nothing from Maddie. “A lot of my readers are young women. Girls, really. Some are younger than Maddie. The message I want to send is that strong, smart womenalwayshave protected sex. And that one of the things that makes hot guys extra hot is their respect for the safety of their partner.”
“But the wall-tossing part,” Peter said, reaching down to take the computer off of her lap. “That’s where I’m feeling the pressure to suspend alittletoo much disbelief.” He closed it and put it onto the concrete floor, on the far side of the boxes. “Sex like that can’t be comfortable for anyone, especially Loretta.”
“It’s not about comfort,” she said. “It’s hot. It’sI need you now, and I can’t wait. Don’t get me wrong. Beds are great. They’re lovely, and yes, you’re right, most people make love in the glorious comfort of a bed, but I write those non-bed scenes to show the height and the power of the characters’ need and emotion.”
He came over to her and held both of his hands out. “Come here.”
She put her hands into his. He had very nice hands—big hands—with long, broad fingers. He had even nicer eyes, and she met his gaze as he pulled her out of the chair so that she was standing in front of him.
He gently tugged her over to the stacked wall of unsorted boxes, and turned her so that her back was to them. But then he backed them both up about four steps as he said, “Okay, so when they’re in the utility closet, Loretta’s here.” He let go of her hand and took another few steps backward, putting a few feet of space between them. “And Jack’s here. And they’re talking, yada yada…”
Shayla laughed. “You’re not seriously going to try tomythbusta scene from a romance novel…?”
“I am, yes, soshh. You’re telling the story at this point through Jack, right?” Peter said.
“It’s called POV—point of view,” she said. “And yes, that scene’s in Jack’s, but seriously, Peter…”
“So we know what Jack’s thinking, and he’s mad at Loretta for taking that risk out on the balcony with the killer, what’s-his-name—”
“Alfred Sinclair,” Shay said. “And he’s thesuspectedkiller. They don’t know for sure yet that he’s—”
“Right. Butweknow he is. And Jack’s a smart man, and in that moment when he was watching her with Sinclair on that balcony, he was terrified and now his fear has turned to anger, but he’s also relieved as fuck that she’s all right. And that’s brilliant, by the way, because relief can really bring you to your knees after a high-stress situation. Plus since we’re seeing her through his eyes, and she’s wearing that dress, and we know just how much she turns him on, so when she saysShut up and kiss me—or whatever it was she said, I’m paraphrasing—it makes total sense that he’d be,Game over.”
“Thank you.” She was delighted. “That was exactly what I was attempting to communicate with that scene.”
“What was it that she said to him…?” he asked.
“Oh, God, I don’t know,” Shay admitted. “I wrote that book a long time ago. But the subtext was definitelyShut up and kiss me.”
Peter smiled as the words left her lips, and she realized she’d played right into his ridiculous mythbusting hand. He moved toward her—fast—and kissed her, exactly as Jack had kissed Loretta in that fiery scene fromOutside of the Lines.
He wrapped his arms around her, which was a good thing, because the way he was all but inhaling her—his mouth hard against hers, his tongue damn near down her throat—made her weak in the knees. He lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist, and God, he smelled so good and she’d been sitting there all that time, watching the play of muscles in his back and arms and dying to touch him. So now as she kissed him, she did just that, and she felt him push her back so that she bumped up against that wall and—
