Kiss in the Dark by Marcia Lynn McClure Page A

I worked hard to buy that house. It’s about time I got to enjoy it, don’t you think?”
    “Well, yes…but…” she stammered.
    “Shh. Catch some z’s before you have to head back to snake lady.” He smiled—a perfectly dazzling, mischievous smile—and added, “Or…my offer still stands. You and me…we could have a sleepover.”
    Boston rolled her very tired eyes and smiled at him. “I’ll take the nap, thank you.” She pulled a pillow beneath her head and punched it a couple of times.
    “Man! It’s a good thing I don’t let continuous rejection mess with my head,” Vance mumbled as he closed the door behind him.
    Boston giggled and snuggled into the pillow and bed, sighing with sudden and unexpected contentment. The pillow smelled like Vance, and her smile broadened. She decided not to cover up with a blanket—that way she wouldn’t sleep too deeply. She’d be sure and wake up easily when the time came.
    She closed her eyes, smiling again as a vision of Vance dressed in the armor of some medieval knight and riding across a hillside on a white horse floated across her tired mind. She should’ve argued with him—insisted on going home right then rather than lingering to take a nap on his bed. But what woman could’ve resisted such a chivalrous gesture as being carried to bed by a handsome road-construction-worker–slash–zoo-exhibits-curator? Not to mention that Danielle’s apartment was dreamily homey and comfortable, so void of contention and electric emotion. Surely an hour more wouldn’t matter. Further, it appeared she’d only have to endure living with Steph for this night and one more. Vance’s house was ready. Hurray! The room Vance had carried her to would soon be her own. She couldn’t wait. For now, however, she’d simply relax—bask in the knowledge she could sleep for an hour or so without worrying whether or not Steph would dump a bucket of water over her or something.
    Boston sighed and drifted to sleep, comforted by the knowledge that Vance was in the next room, filling out his paperwork.
     
    Danielle stepped into her apartment and dropped the grocery bags in her arms. Vance looked up from his place at the table. There were papers spread over nearly the entire surface, and he looked tired.
    “Two bags?” he asked, looking up at her. “You were gone for two hours and you brought home two little bags of groceries?”
    Danielle shrugged. “I couldn’t think of what we needed,” she lied. The truth was Danielle had left the apartment hoping Vance would return from his run before Boston left to go back to her own apartment. She’d seen the way Boston tried not to be delighted in Vance’s company, the way Vance limited his time with Boston. She studied her brother for a moment—his tousled hair, the dark circles under his eyes. “Why are you still up?” she asked. “You look tired…and don’t you have to be up early?”
    “I had some paperwork to finish,” he mumbled. “Not to mention the fact I was worried about you being gone so long this late at night.”
    Danielle smiled, kissed her brother on the top of the head, and began putting the groceries away. “Well, I’m home now…so you should turn in,” she said.
    “I will,” he said. “Um…would you mind if I slept on the couch tonight?” Vance asked.
    “No…not if you really want to.” Danielle frowned. Her heart began to beat harder as worry and fear swept over her. “Are you having trouble sleeping again, Vance?” she asked. Silently she prayed that it wasn’t that—that Vance’s torturous insomnia hadn’t returned after so many years.
    “No,” he began, “but I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I try to sleep in my bed.”
    “Why is that?” Danielle asked, relieved yet simultaneously curious.
    Vance continued to mull over his scattered papers as he simply said, “There’s a woman in it.”
    “What?” Danielle exclaimed. Was he serious? What was he talking about? What woman was in is his