“I’ve gotta go. Sounds like one of the kids is up, and I need to get whoever it is back in bed. Have a good night.”

“I will,” she said and hung up.

Trying to assess her birth-control options while standing by the beef jerky, she eyed the condoms. One box touted “ultrathin for maximum sensation.” Another said, “Appealing vanilla scent.”

It’d been far too long since she’d been in the market for such items. What a selection! Red, green, blue, thin, sheepskin, ribbed, large, medium, scented. She had no idea what to buy. Would ultrathin provide enough protection?

Suddenly, none of them seemed to provide enough protection. So what if Sebastian was every woman’s dream? So what if her heart pounded at the thought of touching him? She was a mother; she had responsibilities.

She walked out. But five minutes later she pulled into a drugstore and bought three different kinds-ribbed, sheepskin and vanilla-scented. If she was going to do this, she’d do it right. And why not? Why let Oliver cost her any more than he already had?

“This is for you,” she told him and marched to the checkout register, where she dropped all three boxes on the counter as if daring the clerk to think anything of it.

Jane had gone home, showered, shaved and used scented lotion. She’d thought if she gave herself time, she might change her mind. But she hadn’t. If anything, she’d become more determined. She would’ve considered buying some pretty lingerie, but the stores were closed and she didn’t own any she could bring from home. In the past five years, she’d gotten far too practical to spend money on something she wasn’t likely to use. Hoping to obliterate the memories, she’d thrown out everything she’d had from before. What a mess her life had been…

Since she didn’t have anything more suitable, she’d opted for an attractive yet casual designer sweat suit, one she’d picked up on eBay for half the cost. She’d also put on her prettiest lace bra and some brown-and-beige panties. Now that she stood at Sebastian’s door, however, she couldn’t force herself to knock. Her underwear didn’t really match her bra, and he had expensive tastes. Would he care about that?

No. He just wanted a quick one-night stand. At least, he’d wanted one when she left. Maybe she’d wasted too much time since then. She could hear the television through the door. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t changed his mind or nodded off…

Shivering more from nerves than the cool air of the open walkway, she checked the time on her phone. Ten-thirty. Not too late, but ten-thirty wasn’t exactly early on a weeknight.

Knock! Don’t just stand here like a big chicken.

She turned off her phone. Then she squeezed her eyes shut and raised her hand. She’d tap once. If he didn’t answer, she’d leave and pretend she’d never returned. Tomorrow Kate would be home and she’d be Jane the Mother, Jane the Survivor, Jane the Victims’ Advocate. Tonight she was giving herself permission to be Jane the Woman.

She wasn’t sure she’d knocked at the door hard enough to be heard over the TV-until it opened.

Then he was there, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, unbuttoned at the top as if he’d pulled them on just to be able to answer the door.

Oh, God…Jane’s mouth went dry as their eyes met.

“Hey.” He moved aside to let her in, but she couldn’t make her feet move. She stood where she was, clinging to her purse and the sack from the drugstore. Finally, without a word, she charged back in the direction from which she’d come. She was about to break into a run when Sebastian caught her by the arm. He didn’t grab very hard, but he managed to stop her.

“Whoa, you’re not even going to say hello?”

She didn’t have an answer and he didn’t insist.

“Come on,” he coaxed, leading her into his room.

“I-I just came to…” She let her words fall away. She’d been about to make up some silly excuse for her sudden appearance, something besides the obvious, but why pretend? He knew why she was here. Even if he didn’t, he’d soon find out. She was holding a sack full of condoms.

“Jeez, your hands are cold.” He covered them, his fingers curling around the fists she was making in order to hang on to everything, including her composure.

She swallowed hard. “It’s chilly out.”

“I can get you warm,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss her neck.

“Is this crazy?” she breathed as his lips moved over her skin. “Because it feels crazy. I-I can hardly breathe. And my heart’s pounding so hard…”

“It’s not crazy.”

Jane wanted to cast aside all her inhibition. She’d promised herself she would. What fun would this be if she held back the whole time? But as his mouth slid up toward hers, he paused ever so slightly on the scar that remained from Oliver’s knife, and she was suddenly terrified she’d fail.

“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be stiff.”

He was trying to tease her out of her discomfort. She knew that because he was smiling-but her self-esteem had suffered such a terrible blow the joke made her fear he’d find her inadequate.

“Are you?” she asked.

He guided her hand to the proof, and her heart pounded even harder.

“I won’t push you to do more than you want,” he whispered. “I promise. If you feel I’m being too aggressive, you just let me know.”

She released her breath, but she didn’t remove her hand. She couldn’t. She was too curious, too captivated. On some level, she was actually surprised she could affect him to that degree.

With his knuckle, he tilted up her chin and stared into her eyes. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

No. She’d never been beautiful. At twenty or thirty pounds overweight, she’d been overlooked in high school. It wasn’t until recently that she’d begun to turn heads. She would’ve loved the attention she received now when she was younger. At this point, she couldn’t take it seriously. No matter how thin or toned she became, she saw herself as the pudgy girl with acne and a personality that was just a little too eager. “You don’t have to say things like that,” she said. “This will be easier for me if you’re honest.”

He seemed taken aback by her response. “I am being honest.”

Was he? Or was he trying to create a fantasy? Maybe based on what she’d written as BrownEyedGirl. Was he playing into it?

“If you say so.”

“You don’t believe me.”

She had no response. Her lack of confidence wasn’t something she wanted to admit, and yet she couldn’t deny it, either.

“Maybe it’s time you started to,” he said and touched his lips to hers. She expected him to use his tongue, to get right down to business. Her fingers were still tracing his erection through the denim of his jeans. But she couldn’t imagine he’d want to waste much of his night with her. Wasn’t this kind of hookup all about quick satisfaction?

If so, he didn’t seem to be taking things very fast. He made that one touch very innocent and brief, and he didn’t pull her into his arms. He stepped away, taking the sack she’d been carrying.

“What have you brought?”

Jane could feel the heat in her cheeks as he looked inside.

“Wow. Either you’re planning to stay a few days or you’re seriously overestimating my ability,” he said with a laugh.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I know this is just a onetime gig. But I didn’t know what to buy. I-” she shook her head “-I’ve never bought them before. Oliver always…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“A selection is nice.” He tossed them onto the nightstand. Then he rested his hands on her shoulders, demanding her undivided attention. “I’m glad you mentioned Oliver because I want to tell you something. I’m not him, Jane. I’m not anything like him. I will never intentionally hurt you.”

Perhaps it was true, but as much as she’d changed in some respects, she hadn’t escaped the conditioning she’d received at Oliver’s hands. “I understand.”