Still, a flush warmed her neck and chest at the memories of the things she’d said and done, at the things he’d said and done to her. She couldn’t regret it. Sex with Adrian Brown had been everything she thought it might be. Three times over. He did have a lot of stamina, a very fine quality when coupled with a sensual imagination, tireless and never-ending.

She’d enjoyed herself very much. Enough to not be embarrassed at her own rawness. Enough to hope it might happen again, though she steeled herself to accept it probably wouldn’t. Things were complicated, she knew. Hell, she felt it all too.

Things had shifted in the week since he’d first come to dinner. He called every day to talk to Miles. Adrian had to make a quick midweek trip to Los Angeles, and when he was in California, he and Miles managed to do face time via their phones.

Miles seemed more confident, even if in need of a little more reassurance and love from Mum to let him know that though things had changed, some things never would. His mum would always love him. Nothing would ever change that.

Even if Adrian Brown hadn’t totally turned their lives upside down with his presence. Easy. Laid back. Sexy. He had a quiet confidence about him, a sort of unruffled and unmistakable air that he knew what he was about and if it needed handling, it would be handled.

And he appeared to be smack-dab in love with Miles, which only made him about eighty billion times more attractive to her.

She slid her shoes on, smoothed her sweater, adjusted her glasses and blotted her lipstick, and upon consideration in her mirror, approved mightily. This new client was a sizable one. If she landed the job, it would mean she could get the car fixed without having to tap into her savings and even be able to tip quite a bit into Miles’s college plan as well.

Portfolio in hand, she headed out the door and toward Tart, where her informal coffee meeting was to take place.

Jules looked up and grinned when Gillian came in. “Hey, you. All ready for the meeting? I’ve got you a table over in the corner. Away from traffic so you won’t be bothered. Plus the light there is marvelous. You’ll look even better, if that’s actually possible.”

Gillian had walked around with a perpetual blush at Jules’s manner when they’d first become friends. By that point, she knew Jules didn’t make compliments lightly and if she said it, it was true.

“Always watching out for my best interests. I’m a little early.”

“No shit. My darling woman, you are beyond punctual. If you were ever late, I’d worry. Go sit. I’ve got a pot of Earl Grey steeping. I’ll bring it and we can chat a while before he arrives.” Jules waved her away, rolling her eyes and Gillian headed to the table her friend had indicated.

Tart had belonged to Jules’s parents. They’d run it as a small café for several decades. Until Jules’s father came home one day and announced to them all at a family birthday dinner that he was leaving Suzy for the just barely adult girl who’d lived a few doors down.

Suzy had made him sign over the café and then had given it to Jules and left for a yearlong trip around the world with friends.

And Jules had made the café into Tart. Sensual. Beautiful tarts, pastry and pie. Tart was one of Gillian’s home places. A sanctuary from all the bad things outside. Being situated where it was also made the location convenient for business meetings.

Jules was, as Cal Whaley said, a long, tall drink of water. Bright and lightning quick, her pale hair and brilliant blue eyes were a contrast with Gillian’s darker looks. But the two shared a friendship deeper than anything she’d had with anyone other than Miles and her gran.

“Here.” Jules put down a pot of tea and two mugs. She returned shortly with a cup of coffee for herself and shoved a slice of persimmon tart Gillian’s way. “Eat it. I know you probably haven’t eaten all day. Don’t want to bottom out on energy during this meeting.”

They chatted idly until her client-to-be showed up, and when she left an hour later, she headed straight to the bank and then dropped her car off at the shop, and even got a ride home from the mechanic whose son she gave piano lessons to twice a week.

She hoped his gratitude at how far his son had come in the last six months would merit her a discount, but took the ride thankful either way.

And who should be on her doorstep but Adrian Brown, looking every bit like a sexy-tousled rock star even when he wasn’t wearing anything more posh than jeans and a fisherman’s sweater.

“I suppose you’ll need a key,” she called out as she headed up the walk, pleased to see him. “Miles will be thrilled you’re here. You’ll be staying for dinner?”

He took her portfolio when he met her at the bottom of the steps and surprised her with a kiss. Nothing salacious, but it was more than a friendly peck.

“Hey. Where’s your car?” He looked around.

“At the shop.” She unlocked the door and went inside, heading straight to the heat to turn it on. “What brings you here today?”

“I wanted to see Miles and you said I should feel welcome to come by.”

She handed him a key on a small fob bearing a plastic image of a vintage woman holding a cup of coffee and a slice of tart. When Jules had first opened her doors, all her friends got together and presented them to her as promotional items for the shop.

“Here. This way you won’t have to wait in the cold if I’m out. Would you like some tea?” She began to move around, turning on the stove to heat the water, grabbing the teapot and mugs, measuring out tea. “Miles won’t be out of school for a few hours.”