Champagne Rules by Susan Lyons

she laughed. “Yeah, I noticed.”
    “No, you didn’t. You were busy too.”
    And how! “Women are capable of doing two things at once.”
    “Definitely the superior sex,” he said easily. Hmm.
    While Suzanne was wondering whether he really meant that, he asked, “Would you care if they saw?”
    There was only one way the sexy twin could answer. “Not unless they call the cops.”
    “God, woman, you really are outrageous.”
    She smiled with pride. Mission accomplished. A residual tremor shivered through her and she kissed his shoulder. “That was incredible, Jaxon.”
    He buried his face in her hair and dropped a kiss of his own.
    “It was. There’s something about beaches, isn’t there?”
    “There’s something about you.”
    “About us together.”
    Her fingers danced across his back. “Or even us by e-mail.”
    His body shook with laughter. “Are you typing sexy messages to me?”
    “Mmm.” She typed quickly on his lower back. Then she pressed her finger into the hollow just above his buttocks.
    “And that was ‘Send.’ ”
    “Tell me what you typed.”
    “I said, ‘Next time, let’s make it last longer.’”
    “Oh yeah!” He eased out of her, off her body, and she missed his heat. She sat up, pulling her skirt across her legs, hunting for her top, then slipping it on. Jaxon pulled up his jeans and fastened them. When he reached for his T-shirt, she put a hand on his arm. “Are you cold?”
    “Don’t want me to put it on?”
    “I like looking at you. You have such a beautiful body.”
    “You’re the beautiful one.” Some men might have said it automatically, but the appreciative tone of Jaxon’s voice told her he meant it.
    People often said she was pretty, but she’d never felt beautiful. Only with him. This evening was working out perfectly, as wonderful, in its own way, as Crete. And now she had enough experience to know how rare it was—at least for her—to have such incredible sex.
    Sex, she reminded herself. That’s all it was. Not making love, or anything foolish and romantic like that. Just sex. Utterly fantastic sex.
    “Now that we’ve satisfied one appetite,” she said, “want to work on another?” She opened the lid of the picnic basket. “I brought white wine. I wasn’t sure if . . .”
    “Sounds great.”
    She handed him the bottle and the corkscrew, then began to open the packages of Granville Island goodies, releasing the aromas of pepper ham, Greek olives, Italian antipasto, sharp cheddar into the night air. Soon they were sitting with their backs against the big log, toasting each other and sharing treats. After the first few mouthfuls, Suzanne realized they’d reached a new stage, an awkward one. Now was the time for conversation, but what should she say?
    Jaxon broke the silence. “This beach is terrific. Do you live near here?”
    “No, I—” Wait, there was something wrong about this. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him with her address; it was more that he’d asked a personal question and she was all set to answer. Was this going to lead to a chat about apartments, jobs, friends? The conventional first-date conversation, in which she’d be forced to reveal Suze, the sensible twin?
    And did she really want to know whether he was an accountant or a cat burglar?
    If she gave him a partial answer, perhaps he’d take the hint and not probe more deeply. The only probing she wanted from Jaxon tonight was physical, not conversational. “Further away from town,” she said casually.
    “I’m surprised what a short drive it was from downtown. Once you’re out here, the city seems far away. I can’t think of a comparable spot in San Francisco.”
    Relieved he’d accepted her evasiveness, she said, “I don’t know San Francisco very well. I’ve only been there once, and I did the normal tourist things. Fisherman’s Wharf, Ghirardelli Square, Chinatown. A boat ride over to Sausalito.”
    He chuckled softly. “Yeah, you hit the tourist biggies.