“I didn’t say that.” Watching her flex was getting to Harris. She was a supple little thing. Funny how he’d never noticed that before.
Clair straightened, then stared up at him with her big green eyes, magnified behind the lenses of her glasses. “I tried contacts once, but they bugged me. I think my eyes are just too sensitive. Besides, I like wearing different frames.”
“I noticed that.” Tonight her frames were red, a stark contrast to the white shorts and tank. What she lacked in jewelry she made up for in eyewear.
“I have as many pairs of glasses as I do bras.”
Harris did a double take. Bras? Why the hell did she have to mention her unmentionables? His besieged brain launched into a series of visuals: Clair in something white and lacy. Clair in something black and slinky. Clair in something barely there.
Clair in his bed.
She said again, “Ready?”
Oh yeah, he was ready all right. For all kinds of things. His gaze dipped to her breasts, but he didn’t see any telltale signs of lace through her tee. “How many bras do you have?”
Laughing, Clair shook her head and started walking at a pre-run clip, leaving him two paces behind her. “What is this? Twenty questions?”
“It just occurs to me that I don’t know you that well.” He tried, but he couldn’t seem to get his gaze off her ass. Was she sashaying just a bit? Putting a little extra swing in the swing and sway?
Turning to walk backward, depriving him of his preoccupation with her behind, Clair frowned. “You know me better than most people.”
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Harris took satisfaction in pointing that out.
She turned her back again and started moving a little faster. “What’d you think, Harris? That I was a virgin? A nun? A misanthrope?”
“A misan-what?” Harris trotted to keep up.
“Misanthrope. You know, a hater of men.”
“No.” He was sure of one thing. “You like me and I’m a man.”
Over her shoulder, she smiled at him, a smile unlike any he’d ever seen from Clair before. “That you are.”
Harris’s eyes widened. Was she flirting? Did Clair even know how to flirt? But her voice was different, too, sort of soft and playful. He caught up to her. “So who was the boyfriend?”
“No one important.” They began jogging in earnest, gliding along smoothly. “Just a guy I knew who seemed nice enough and interesting enough to pass the time.”
“You weren’t serious about him?”
She snorted, giving Harris all the answer he needed—though why he needed an answer, he couldn’t say.
They loped on in silence, past the dark, quiet park, along deserted streets where older homes sat back in majestic splendor, along the levy where a concrete path had been poured.
Their movements were fluid, well timed to match. They had a great rhythm together. Harris groaned. He could just imagine setting the pace in bed, and how easily Clair could keep up.
“So how many bras do you have?”
Her laugh got carried away on the evening wind. “At least one for every day of the week.”
He thought about that. “A special one for each day?”
“No, just variety. Different colors, different fabrics.”
Like French lace or slinky nylon or maybe... “What are you wearing tonight?”
“We’re jogging, sweating. So it’s plain old comfortable white cotton.”
Somehow, when he pictured it on Clair, cotton didn’t seem the least plain. He was wondering about her panties, whether they matched the bra or not, when Clair slowed, veered off the pavement to mosey into the grass, then leaned her shoulders against a thick maple tree.
That far from the street, the light of lampposts barely penetrated.
Immediately, Harris was beside her. “Hey, you okay?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Just a little tired today.”
She’d been pale earlier, unsteady on her feet, and now she was tired? Clair never got tired. Hell, usually he was the first to get winded when they ran, and he knew he was in extremely good shape. All firefighters were.
Come to that, so was Clair, and he didn’t mean healthwise, although that applied too. Her white shirt and shorts reflected the scant moonlight, emphasizing certain swells and hollows, making her body look more feminine than ever.
She bent one knee, stuck the other leg out straight. The pose showed off the length of her long legs, causing Harris’s mouth to go dry. Her dark brown hair, hanging loose tonight, lifted a bit with a gentle breeze. His fingers twitched with the need to smooth it back into place. He resisted.
Still with her eyes closed, Clair smiled.
“Why,” Harris asked, full of suspicion now, “are you smiling like that?”
Her eyes opened, her head tilted. “Like what?”
“Like you have a secret.”
For a single moment there, Harris thought he saw alarm flicker in her gaze. Then she straightened away from the tree. “Don’t be absurd. Can’t a woman smile?”
“Sure.” He propped his hands on his hips. “When she’s got a reason.”
“I’m happy,” Clair snapped, in a very unhappy tone. “I feel good. The air’s fresh, your company, before just now, wasn’t too heinous, and so I smiled.” She shoved past him. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
Harris caught her arm and pulled her around. She slammed into his chest, but quickly back-stepped. “You get mad too easy, too fast.”
She relented just a bit, tugging free of his hold and folding her arms around her middle. Sounding mulish, she said, “I’m not mad.”
“No? Then what?”
She stared up at him, one expression after another crossing her features before she stalked in a circle around him. Harris turned, keeping her in his sights.
“You told me I wouldn’t understand about lust.”
Oh hell. First bras and now this. Except for the racing of his heart and a twitch of male interest, Harris went very still. “Yeah.” Shut up, Harris. Let it go.... “And?”
“You were wrong.”
He shouldn’t have pushed for an explanation. “I am, huh?”
She nodded. “I’m...antsy. The guy you were asking about? We broke up two months ago.” She peeked up at Harris, all innocent temptation. “I haven’t been out with a guy since.”
No way could he have this conversation. Not with a platonic girlfriend. Not without a bed around. He took a step back. “Right. Gotcha. Maybe a, uh, run will help.”
“No. I need to find a new guy.” As if she hadn’t just dropped a verbal bombshell, Clair turned away and headed back to the sidewalk. “In the meantime, running just exhausts me so I can sleep at night instead of fantasizing.”
Fantasizing! Well, yeah, so all women probably fantasized, same as men. But Clair? Harris stomped after her. “What the hell does that mean, you have to find a new guy? You make it sound like shoe shopping.”
She ignored his furious blustering to say, “Come on. Let’s finish our run.” Rather than wait for him, she took off, forcing Harris to catch up.
Because he was annoyed now, it took him only