"It's Christmas eve." Yeah, well..." Wren shrugged."Are you married?" Stacy asked him and the soft lilt in her voice drew a sharp look from Wren. "I'm...sorry. Was that rude of me?" No," Wren cleared his throat. "I'm ... No, I'm not married."He held up his left hand, wiggling his fingers and apologizing for his bachelorhood by way of a chuckle. It had been his habit for some years, since he'd turned forty at least, and it most often brought sympathetic nods and knowing smiles in return. But not. She didn’t understand this expectant in-between time. Titillation was something she gave not something she received, until now. Without conviction, she said, ‘Maybe you should get in your truck and leave. The cop was right. Staying will screw up your life.’ ‘Shut up, and put on your new clothes,’ he said, while removing his torn shirt. The flash of his naked chest made her belly tingle. Hannah stood and wiggled, and the borrowed pants dropped to the floor. The shirttail was long enough to. More

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