He could wait. He was good at waiting. And more than anything, he realized, he wanted her to come to him.

He went downstairs to feed the cat and make himself some tea. At the counter, he drank the tea while he went through the day’s mail.

And he wondered if his life could be any more ordinary, any more staid. Would he find himself in this same loop—read rut—in another year? God, in another decade?

He’d been comfortable enough before Mackensie had reentered his life.

“It’s not as if I’d planned to be alone forever,” he said to the cat. “But there was plenty of time, wasn’t there? Time to enjoy a certain routine, time to enjoy my home, my work, the freedom that comes from being single. I’m barely thirty, for God’s sake.

“And I’m talking to a cat, which is not how I want to spend my evenings for the rest of my life. No offense. But no one wants to merely settle. To be with someone because being alone’s the only other option. Love’s not some amorphous concept created for books and poetry and not attainable. It’s real and vital, and it’s necessary. Damn it. It changes things. Everything. I can’t be what I was before I loved her. It’s ridiculous for anyone to expect that.”

Having finished his meal, the cat sat, gave Carter a long stare, then began to wash.

“Well, she’s not as reasonable as you. I’ll tell you something else while we’re on the subject. I’m good for her. I’m exactly what she needs. I understand her. All right, no, I don’t. I take that back. But I know her, which is a different thing altogether. And I know I can make her happy once she gets over being too pigheaded to admit it.”

He decided then and there she had another twenty-four hours. If she didn’t come to him within that time frame, he’d just have to take control of the situation. He’d need a plan of some sort, an outline of what needed to be said and done. He rose to get a pad and pencil.

“Oh, for God’s sake. The hell with plans and outlines. We’ll just deal with it.” Annoyed, he slammed the drawer on his finger. Typical, he thought, sucking at the ache. He decided to console himself with a grilled cheese sandwich.

If she’d come to her senses, they’d be together right now, maybe fixing an actual meal. Something they could talk over. He wanted to know if she’d gotten the big job. Wanted to celebrate with her. To share it with her.

He wanted to tell her about the funny short story one of his students had turned in—and about the excuses another had given him for not completing an assignment.

He had to admit the temporary amnesia gambit had been inventive.

He wanted to share all that with her. The big things, the little ones, all the bits and pieces that made up their lives. He just had to show her she wanted it, too. No, not only wanted it, he remembered. He had to show her she could have it.

He put the sandwich in the skillet, opened a cupboard for a plate. When the knock sounded at his front door, he barely missed rapping his head on the corner of the open cupboard.

He thought: Mackensie, and hurried out of the kitchen.

The image of her was already in his mind when he opened the door, so it took him several awkward seconds to process Corrine.

“Carter.” She came in laughing, did a graceful turn to end with her arms around him. She tipped her head back, eyes sparkling dark, and pressed her lips to his.

“Surprise,” she said, on a little purr.

“Ah, yes. It certainly is. Corrine.” He disentangled himself. “You’re . . . looking well.”

“Oh, I’m a wreck. I must’ve driven around the block three times before I worked up the nerve to stop. Don’t break my heart, Carter, and say you’re not happy to see me.”

“No. I mean . . . I certainly wasn’t expecting to.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me in?”

“You are in.”

“Always so literal. Are you going to close the door, or make me grovel in the cold?”

“Sorry.” He shut the door. “You caught me off guard. What do you want, Corrine?”

“More than I deserve.” She took off her coat, offered it to him along with a plea in her eyes. “Hear me out, won’t you?”

Trapped between manners and puzzlement, he hung up her coat. “I thought I already did.”

“I was stupid, and so careless with you. You have every right to toss me out on my ass.” She wandered into the living room. “When I look back at what I did, what I said . . . Carter, I’m so ashamed. You were so good to me, so good for me. You made me better than I was. I’ve been thinking about you. Thinking about you a lot.”

“What about—” He had to dig for the name. “James?”

She rolled those sultry eyes. “My mistake. My punishment for hurting you. It didn’t take me long to realize he was just a reckless adventure. He was a boy compared to you, Carter. Please say you forgive me.”

“It’s old business, Corrine.”

“I want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me. Give me a chance to show you.” She walked back to him, trailed her fingers over his cheek. “You remember how it was with us, how good it was. We could have that again. Carter.” She wound around him. “You could have me again. You just have to take me.”

“I think we should—”

“Let’s be sensible later.” She pressed in as he tried to ease her back. “I want you. I want you so much. I can’t think about anything else.”

“Wait. Stop. This isn’t going to—”

“All right. You’re the boss.” With that sparkling smile in place, she tossed her hair. “We’ll talk first, all you want. Why don’t you pour me a glass of wine and we’ll . . . Is something burning?”

“I don’t—Oh, hell.”

He raced to the kitchen, and Corrine’s smile went sharp. This would take more time and effort, she realized. But she didn’t mind the challenge. Actually, she thought, the fact that Carter hadn’t come to heel as she’d expected only made him more exciting. And it would make seducing him all the more satisfying.

After all, the one place he hadn’t bored her was in bed.

She softened her smile as she heard him coming back.

“Sorry, I was cooking something. Corrine, I appreciate the apology and the . . . offer, but—Sorry,” he repeated at the knock on the front door.