Putting her glass down on the table, she turned to the oven, bending to open it just a crack. He admired the way her green dress pulled across her hips and rode up her thighs when she did, knowing just where her black thigh-highs ended and where the crotch of the matching black panties began under that dress. The thought made him dizzy with lust.

Stef slammed the oven door shut with a gasp when the doorbell rang.

Evan whirled his chair around expertly, heading to answer it. She grabbed the handgrip on the back, and he looked over his shoulder at her.

She was shaking her head, her eyes wide. “I can’t do this.”

“No backslides.” He grinned.

“I’m not kidding!” She pinched his shoulder and made a face.

He pushed off again toward the door, calling back, “It’ll be okay.” When he and Ben came back into the kitchen, she was pouring herself another glass of wine, but the roast was out of the oven and ready to be carved.

Evan saw the awkward and slightly fearful, but definitely excited look that passed between them as Stef leaned in to kiss Ben’s cheek and hug him hello.

He noticed his friend’s hands linger a little longer over her hips, and the flush in his wife’s cheeks that hadn’t been there five minutes ago, wine or no wine.

“So how’s business, Ben?” Evan watched Stef turn back to the roast, grabbing the knife out of the block. She took another sip of wine before she started carving.

“I’m tired.” He sank into one of the kitchen chairs with a sigh, running a hand through his brown mop. His cheeks were scruffy and he rubbed them as he watched his friend’s wife. “This time of year, it’s constant.”

“Feast or famine,” Stef remarked as they both watched her struggling with the knife. “Seasonal work is always like that. You’ve got a good tan going, though. There’s a nice perk.”

Ben smiled, standing and coming up behind her. “Do you want help with that?”