 
Dodging Eros, Through Past Present and Pleasure (Extra Stories)

Copyright 2017 by Cardyn Brooks

Smashwords Edition

Cover art copyright 2017 by Banks Art Partners

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author in the same way you would want your own work respected as a means of earning support for life's essentials.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this work are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

### Dodging Eros, Through Past, Present and Pleasure (Extra Stories)

By Cardyn Brooks

Table of Contents

1. Bossy v. Moody

2. Shuffling the Deck*

3. When Familiarity Breeds the Opposite of Contempt

4. Into the Wilderness

5. Carrying On

6. Charging Forward

7. Farewell Toast

8. Moody As Ever

9. More Than Pen Pals

Miscellaneous Tidbits

About Cardyn Brooks

Dear Reader,

Thank you for choosing to read these bonus stories connected to the back stories for some of the main characters in _Dodging Eros, Through Past, Present and Pleasure_. The following stories are presented in the order in which they were written a few years after _Dodging Eros_ was completed. *Chronologically, the events in "Shuffling the Deck" happen after "Moody As Ever" in this timeline. Otherwise, these stories occur in order, while the written correspondence in "More Than Pen Pals" weaves in and out of the events occurring between the summer after Danya and Rick's freshman year in college and Rick's permanent return to the fictional town of Darlingfield, Virginia seven years after their college graduation.

These bonus stories expand upon some of the vague references from the main story, my private thoughts and character sketches based on my research and world events during the years I was writing and rewriting _Dodging Eros_.

May these stories add more pleasure to your life,

C.B.

"Bossy v. Moody" and "Shuffling the Deck" appeared in a 2016 RBTL Book Promotions blog tour, along with the content in Miscellaneous Tidbits.

Bossy v. Moody

Danya and Rick: Their Beginning

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 1

Mona Fullerton snagged her husband's upper arm and tugged until he slowly stepped a few paces backward out of the short hallway in front of the food prep area and into the walk-in pantry in their family bakery in Darlingfield, Virginia.

"Stop looking at our summer worker like you're planning to put him in a headlock, John," she whispered as they both watched Danya, their youngest child, show Frederick Maxwell how to knead and shape dinner rolls for the final rise. Mona thought the two young people looked adorable standing next to each other in their matching Full Bake ball caps and t-shirts.

"Oh, no, ma'am, a headlock is too good for that boy who keeps looking at our baby girl." Bewilderment seeped through the menace in the soft growl of his whispered threat.

Mona shifted her gaze away from her daughter's budding summer romance with the young man who was working off what he owed for his share of the deductible for replacing the front window of the bakery when he and his friends decided in their drunken inspiration to use the wrought-iron bench on the sidewalk as a ramp for practicing their daredevil skateboard tricks. She thanked God that it was three skateboards instead of three bodies that crashed through the glass.

While her husband scowled at their daughter's would-be beau, Mona studied John's stern profile and still recognized the tenderhearted boy and former Black Panther civil rights activist in the man standing beside her.

"Rick is a decent boy, John. He stayed and waited for the police even though his two friends ran," she said quietly, reminding him of facts he already knew. The boy hadn't named his two friends because he hadn't needed to; their names had been etched into their skateboards.

Mona embraced her husband with one arm around his waist and squeezed when he chuffed with grudging acknowledgement.

"John, your ladybug is now a young woman who's coming into her own power. We need to trust her to live her life based on everything we've taught her.

"Plus, this is just a summer flirtation. In six weeks Danya returns to State and Rick goes back to school in Colorado a few days later."

Mona's words were a consoling reminder to herself as well as to her worried husband because at first she had dismissed the idea that this smart, good-looking, privileged white boy was seriously interested in pursuing Danya. But weeks of observing the boy's awareness of and attentiveness to Danya had made his respectful intentions obvious.

Rick also let Danya scold him about cheerful eye contact and using words instead of grunts when serving customers who might choose to buy their baked goods elsewhere from more courteous workers.

Mona couldn't blame her daughter for being curious about Rick. She understood that times were different now. Interracial dating wasn't as rare or dangerous as it had been during Mona's younger years, but she believed that all three of her children would choose to marry Black people when they were ready to settle down. She needed to believe it for her own peace of mind.

"Come on, John," she said. "Glaring at the boy won't change anything. Let's finish payroll."

Mona counted his heavy sigh accompanied by his slow turn toward the business office as a win for all four of them--Danya, Rick, John and herself.

~~~~~

Hours later and two blocks away from the bakery, Danya said, "Rick, get in the car right now. Please. It's raining. And lightning! Your parents wouldn't want you to risk getting electrocuted."

Rick wasn't so sure. His parents had been furious with him when they came to get him at the police station a month ago the night he and his friends broke the big front window at the Fullerton Bakery. They'd taken him into one of the interrogation rooms and expressed their disappointment with his poor choices: underage drinking, getting drunk, destroying private property, skating outside of a skate park, cowardly friends.

In fact, his dad had said Rick's decision to remain at the scene of the crime was the only reason the Fullerton's weren't filing a complaint and the police weren't pursuing any criminal charges against him. It was also the reason his parents were taking away his driving privileges for the entire summer, but not grounding him. Friends could pick him up and drop him off for social activities only. Rick had to walk or ride his bike--like a little kid!--to and from the early Saturday morning alcohol education classes at the police station, his restitution work at the bakery and his regular summer intern job as a physical endurance trainer in the evenings at the YMCA. Weight training combined with walking and running to his two jobs meant he was stronger and more physically fit than he'd ever been. He'd completed the mandatory alcohol ed course last weekend with his former friends. So that torture was done. Thank you, sweet lamb of God.

Rick stopped at the corner when Danya stopped for the red light at the empty intersection. He bent low to make eye contact with her through the half-lowered passenger window on the ancient compact car her grandmother used to drive around Darlingfield before she got too sick to renew her driver's license.

"Boss Dan, when we're not at the bakery I don't have to do what you say. Go on home. I'm fine."

He tapped the roof of her car, then stood and stepped off the curb as the traffic light glowed green.

~~~~~

Danya slid the car into first, then second gear, pacing Rick as he jogged along the sidewalk. He was drenched from head to toe. Water splashed up to his knees with each of his quick, long strides.

When the steady downpour instantly switched to a deluge of slanting sheets of rain, Danya sped up to turn right at the next intersection, stopping abruptly to block his path. She leaned over to unlock the door and shoved it open.

"Rick, please let me take you to the YMCA," she yelled to be heard over the whooshing rain when he grabbed the edge of the door in order to slam it closed. "Save your stoic endurance for your clients at the gym, Moody Broody Maxwell!"

~~~~~

Rick got into her car. Because he was soaked down to the bone and tired of worrying that Danya might wreck her car while dividing her attention between watching him and navigating the slick streets. He pulled the door closed with a slam, adjusted the seat as far back as it would go and still felt cramped as he fastened his seat belt before he rolled up the window, then turned to watch Danya's expressive face while she pulled a k-maneuver to get back onto the road to the YMCA. The enclosed space filled his head with the smell of wet fabric softener mixed with spiced dough and Danya's unique savory scent.

"Thanks for the ride," he said, wiping his wet face and slicking back his wet hair with the wet palms of his hands. "So you're naturally bossy all of the time."

"Yes." She nodded, then turned to smile at him in a way that made him smile, too.

For the next two blocks they argued about how he planned to get home after work. Danya speculated aloud about rearranging her evening plans in order to workout until the end of Rick's shift. By the time she pulled up to the employee entrance for the YMCA Rick had agreed--promised--to call his parents if it was still raining later.

~~~~~

"Did you catch Rick before he left the bakery, Glen?"

His wife Jane's melodious voice floated to him as he closed and locked the front door.

"No," he said while taking off his Colorado Academy ball cap, shaking out of his trench coat and hanging it on the top edge of the open door to the front closet as his wife's soft footsteps tapped closer.

"No?" she asked before sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe, then leaning up to kiss him on the lips and pulling back quickly when he reached for her.

"I've seen a lot of lightning, Glen. Where is our son?"

He grabbed her soft hand and squeezed it gently to reassure her.

"The Fullerton's youngest was dropping Rick off when I traced his route from the bakery to the gym. He looked wet. That's on me," Glen said as they walked down the central hall toward the kitchen. "I know Rick takes everything I say about rules of conduct literally. I should have reminded him to call home for a ride when I heard rain in the forecast.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said when Jane placed a mug of hot coffee in front of him as she sat next to him with her own steaming mug of the strong brew he preferred.

"I took away his driving privileges because seeing that broken plate glass window and imagining Rick cut and bloodied, maimed or dead still wakes me up in a cold sweat some nights. I wanted the punishment to inflict so much aggravation on him that he'll never do anything that stupidly dangerous again.

"But he should know that I don't want him to get sick in the rain or struck by lightning. Right, Jane. Why doesn't he know that? Why didn't he call?"

~~~~~

Jane watched her husband chug his coffee and wondered for the thousandth time in the past two years what she could do to mend the widening rift between Glen and their son.

Some of it was due to Rick's evolution from boy to man, where their son's very liberal leanings clashed with Glen's life-long conservative ideals. Jane suspected that a young man's need to establish his own identity separate from his father's was the source of most of their communication problems.

"Glen, Rick has strictly followed his punishment rules without any slip-ups for the past month. Otherwise, Melissa would have told us since she never passes on an opportunity to torment her older brother."

They both laughed.

When their shared amusement faded, she asked, "What if we allow him to drive to and from his jobs only? It worries me when he leaves before dawn to go to the bakery, and gets home from the gym after sunset. Darlingfield is a safe place, but criminals are opportunists and someone might view Rick as an easy target because he's by himself--despite his size and obvious physical strength."

Jane stopped talking even though additional arguments hovered on the edge of her tongue. She knew her husband well enough to understand that he had started this conversation so she could convince him of what he already knew: The severity of Rick's penance had made its point.

They sipped their coffee in silence until Glen asked for a refill. While Jane stood and walked to the counter, her husband knocked his knuckles once against the kitchen table.

"You're right, Jane. We'll lift some of his driving restrictions. Let him drive directly to and from work. I'll tell Rick when I pick him up tonight. What time's he off?"

Jane glanced at her son's work schedule taped to the side of the refrigerator.

"Ten."

She brought the coffee pot over to the table and half filled both of their mugs. Once she'd placed the nearly empty pot on the trivet in the center of the table and reseated herself, Jane caught her husband's eye as he sipped.

"After you tell Rick about his partially restored driving privileges, Glen, remind him to make sure he protects himself and his future every time he's with a girl."

Her husband paused, lowering his mug without breaking eye contact. "You think he's fooling around with the Fullerton girl?"

Jane thought about the look on Rick's face the few times he'd griped to her about Danya's high expectations for his work performance at her family's bakery. In Jane's opinion her son's attitude reflected more intrigue than annoyance.

"No, I don't think he's done anything with her. Yet. But I think he wants to."

~~~~~

Glen liked the Fullertons. His department supervisor at the municipal water treatment plant always hired them to cater their holiday parties. Everyone in the Fullerton family was professional and well-spoken. Over the years he and John Fullerton had agreed on more than one issue at Darlingfield town meetings and school fundraisers, but Glen still believed that keeping things simple with personal relationships was best for everyone.

"We'll swing by the drugstore on the way home."

Shuffling the Deck

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 2

This contemplation of Warwick's future occurs immediately before the events in III. Night Vision in _Dodging Eros_.

Warwick Fullerton stood in the center of his cramped office. Only the nearly floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the campus quad on one wall and his transparent door to the hallway on the opposite side kept the tight space from feeling like a coffin. He always kept the door open unless he was counseling a student. As tenured faculty he could have requested a larger office, but he preferred the coziness of having his metal drafting table flanked by collapsible wooden bookshelves leaving just enough room for his adjustable desk chair, one narrow visitor's chair and a square patch of industrial floor tiles worn smooth by generations of feet.

The soft whine of a motorized scooter slowing to a stop preceded, "Professor War?"

He turned with a smile to greet one of his smartest, most conscientious students who had taken more than one of his graduate courses about the evolution of Western Civilization.

"Karen," he said, kicking back with his foot to shove the visitor's chair before he dropped into it. "Come in."

His move gave her more room to maneuver her scooter into his office while putting them at eye level. Scents of fresh air, sunshine and something fruity accompanied her arrival.

She smiled at him once she'd set her brake. "I'm so glad you're still here. This is for you."

Warwick's gaze lowered from the excitement beaming from her expressive face to the rectangular package overflowing the palm of her hand.

During his years of teaching, first as an assistant, then an adjunct, a full-time instructor and finally as tenured faculty, he had learned various diplomatic ways to dodge, redirect and discourage his students from crushing on him as their teacher, mentor or as a sometime local celebrity whenever details about his hostage negotiations incidents leaked to the public--despite his best efforts to remain anonymous in those dealings.

Accepting gifts from his students was something he rarely did.

"It isn't a love token, Professor War, so you can stop trying to figure out how to reject the crippled girl's romantic overture without breaking my heart and sending me into a sad decline that makes me drive my scooter into the duck pond."

The accuracy of her droll words regarding his thoughts made a laugh burst forth from his chest on a belch of sound. Her impish grin kept him chuckling and shaking his head at her as he reached for the package. The plain brown paper offered no clues.

Seconds later he was holding a tin box with a sun, a moon, an infinity symbol and an open book etched into a swirled pattern across the top of the hinged lid. He traced the rise and fall of the delicate lines with his fingertips before he looked up to meet Karen's pensive gaze.

Her smile blossomed again as she laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh, good, you like the box, but that's not the best part, Professor. Look inside."

He did. The exquisite details of the contents kept him speechless as he examined each hand-drawn Tarot card. Sharp black lines and curves of assorted thickness framed a soft pastel color palette for the Major Arcana; vibrant primary colors for the Minor Arcana. Each one of the seventy-eight cards was a masterful work of art.

"Karen, you made these and the box for me?"

She nodded. "Yes. I know you study the mystical and the religious only from an academic perspective, which is really interesting to me, Professor, because you're the most instinctively compassionate and intuitive teacher I've ever known. Add in your being a handsome brainiac with a mesmerizing voice and a wicked sense of humor--" She did not share her thoughts about his enticing scent. "--and it's no mystery why there's always a wait list for your classes and most of your students fall a little bit in love with you every semester.

"Not me!" she added with a laugh before she got serious again.

"Thank you for being my advisor, Professor. Thank you for challenging me. Thank you for always treating me like a regular human being and not like the poor little crippled girl."

Warwick coughed to clear his throat. He glanced away from Karen's earnest face down to the priceless gift in his hands, then back up to her eyes.

"You must have worked on these cards and the box for weeks and months, Karen. Are you sure you don't want to keep this set? It belongs on permanent exhibit in a museum."

Her smile radiated her pleasure. "Thank you for saying that, Professor War."

"It's true," he said very quietly.

"You have the only set, but I've scanned each card and the box lid just in case I have gift-giver's remorse later on. Okay?"

Warwick slowly nodded once. "Under one condition: If you ever change your mind and want it back or need it for an exhibit of your work, Karen, contact me. Agreed?"

Her slight frown shrank her smile a bit. "Yes, but it's unnecessary because my art is just for me; sometimes gifts for family and friends--never for public display."

"Well, that's a big loss for art lovers, Karen. Yes, I know," he said when she opened her mouth to speak again. "History is your passion. You're going to publish, go on an international lecture tour, then become a professor at an Ivy League university. This--" Warwick pointed down at the Tarot set in his other hand. "This shows me that art is your passion as well. Do both."

They talked for several more minutes before Warwick leaned forward to shake Karen's hand in farewell.

"Whenever I look at this exquisite Tarot set I'll remember what a gift having you as my student has been to me, Karen."

He stood and paced her to the door as she backed her scooter into the hall.

"Enjoy your sabbatical, Professor War," she said, then spun her scooter and zipped down the hall toward the elevator.

~~~~~

Karen had lied to Professor War to save face and to spare him from discomfort in her presence. She'd been crushing on her academic advisor since her freshman year when she'd tested into one of his rigorous senior courses in Western Civ.

Over the years of her undergraduate study she had secretly contemplated his cards from different decks and assorted layouts. Whether the Visconti-Sforza, Marseille or Rider-Waite deck laid out in horseshoe, Celtic Cross or Tree of Life configurations, The Chariot and The Hierophant always presented themselves no matter how she shuffled the deck. Was she projecting her admiration for his compassion, intelligence and authority into each reading? Her psychologist dad would say yes. So would her Wicca mom. Both would counsel Karen to search for those qualities in a peer instead of her unattainable professor--if they'd known about her crush. But her parents hadn't guessed because Karen dated regularly in a methodical search for a young man whose recognition of her worth would make her feel as strong and fearless as being in Professor War's presence did.

The Tarot set was a token of her appreciation and her unrequited love for him. In her farewell contemplation of his cards last night, for the first time ever, Karen had uncovered The Wheel of Fortune for her professor's hopes and aspirations combined with The Lovers for his future experiences when her past readings used to reveal The Hermit for his future. It didn't really surprise her that the universe (and her subconscious) expected dynamic changes for him during his sabbatical.

Karen hoped that Professor War was destined to meet a woman who would recognize and appreciate him, and love him the way he deserved to be loved.

When Familiarity Breeds the Opposite of Contempt

Danya and Rick: Their Beginning Continues

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 3

"How do we stop this, Jane?"

"We don't, Glen."

"There must be something we can do."

"There isn't."

"When we restored all of his driving privileges, Jane, I thought Rick would spend less time with the Fullerton's youngest—not more."

"I know you did, sweetheart," his wife said without looking up or dropping a stitch from the sweater she was knitting for their son.

"But you didn't, did you, Jane?"

~~~~~

Jane Gilmartenson Maxwell paused as she considered how much truth to tell her husband. She decided to ask him a question first.

"Is smiling Rick's default facial expression?"

"No," Glen said without hesitation.

"What about when he's headed out to see Danya or when he's just been with her or Melissa teases him about her—is Rick smiling then?"

This time his answer came slower, after closing his eyes and thinking for a few seconds before slowly opening his eyes again. A resigned sigh preceded his, "Yes."

Jane set her knitting in the big basket next to her chair, then got up and walked over to her husband, who reached out with both arms to help her sit in his lap. She looped her arms loosely around his neck as she stared into dark eyes set in the rugged face of the only man she had ever loved and trusted with her whole heart.

"Glen, our son is in love with Danya. She makes him happy. Anything we do to try to keep them apart will only backfire by making him more determined to keep her in his life." She waited for him to accept that truth before she said, "In two weeks when they both go back to college, hundreds of miles and a few states will separate them until Thanksgiving, maybe Christmas if we book Rick's flight from Colorado directly to Harrisburg instead of having him come home to drive with us to visit your folks in Pennsylvania for the long weekend." Jane simply waited because her son had inherited more than his looks and his height from her husband.

One minute and two deep huffs later, Glen leaned forward to kiss her. When he pulled back he said, "A lot can happen in two weeks, Jane."

She nodded. "True, but Danya is a smart girl with professional ambitions that have nothing to do with trapping our son."

Jane had made sure last week during a spontaneous lunch at Full Bake when she and her daughter Melissa had gone to purchase scratch-made pizza dough. Mona Fullerton had invited them into the kitchen to taste some items they were considering as new menu options.

Seated on stools clustered around the end of a stainless steel prep counter, Jane and her daughter had sampled an assortment of savory bites and given their honest opinions to Danya, who was trying to convince her parents that experimenting with new techniques and food combinations would be good for business.

Danya's passion for food and expanding the Full Bake made it clear that she was planning to lead her family's business into other markets.

It was hard to believe that this vivacious young woman had once been the chronically ill child whose name was constantly on all the local churches' prayer lists and used to motivate people to donate blood, get immunized, and any other community health issue that required prodding of the Darlingfield masses to increase their participation.

Watching Danya's beautiful face and animated hand movements as she talked had made it easy to understand why Rick had fallen for her.

Jane gazed into her husband's eyes and strove to project her conviction through her eyes and her voice. "Danya is not a threat to Rick's future, Glen."

~~~~~

Danya felt strong hands slide around her waist before she heard Rick's voice whisper in her ear.

"You're supposed to use the step ladder, not climb the shelves, Dan."

One of his hands left her waist as he reached over her head to grab the wooden crate filled with rarely used mini muffin tins. "Is this what you need?"

"Yes," she said when the hand at her waist slid across her stomach to hook his arm more securely around her while he pulled and lifted the crate from the shelf.

With one hand clutching an upper shelf, Danya turned in the circle of his embrace until they faced each other.

"Thank you, Rick," she said at the same time he said, "You could've fallen and hurt yourself."

Danya smiled as she leaned forward to press her lips to his, then nibbled and licked until he opened his mouth on a soft groan.

Shared laughter ended their kiss because they'd both kept their eyes open, and kissing cross-eyed looked ridiculous.

Rick hauled her off the shelf where she was perched, and lowered her to standing on the floor. Once she was steady on her feet he handed her the crate in response to her give-me hand gesture.

"What are you making now?" he asked as he slowly pushed the door open wide enough for Danya to precede him out of the storage room and into the short hallway.

"Miniature lemon curd cupcakes for Mrs. Bergen's tea party at three this afternoon," she said, leading the way to the smaller kitchen that had once been the only one. They used it for baking individual batches and last-minute special orders. The residential-sized oven was already pre-heating.

"It's ten past noon," Rick said.

"I know. Mrs. Bergen had a baking mishap with her batch."

Danya felt the heat of Rick's proximity and focus, but didn't allow them to interfere with her preparations as she scrubbed and dried the baking tins, then lined them with small muffin cups made of compostable parchment.

"Didn't your shift end at noon, Rick?" she asked while she grated lemons for zest before she chopped them in half and squeezed them for juice over a strainer to catch the seeds.

"Yeah, but I needed to tell you I can go with you to Reb's pool party if you still want me to."

Hearing that made her look up from folding whipped egg whites from one glass mixing bowl into another glass mixing bowl full of batter.

"You're scheduled as a private trainer at the Y tonight."

Rick shook his head. "He cancelled. My supervisor said she doesn't need me to come in at all."

Danya laughed when Rick's eyes kept straying from looking at her face to staring at the cake batter. She finally put him out of his misery.

"Yes, Rick, I'm baking enough for you to have some even though they won't taste as tart as you prefer them."

"Nice," he said, stepping closer to her work space after washing his hands. "Let me help you."

Danya stared into his dark eyes and smiled. "Okay, please set up three piping bags for me with large round tips, then..."

~~~~~

"Foiled again, baby?" Mona Fullerton asked her husband's strong back while he sat at his desk and watched the computer monitor display divided into thirds that showed the public area in the front of the bakery, the main commercial kitchen and prep stations in the back, and the small kitchen Danya had commandeered as her food laboratory.

There was no sound, but their facial expressions and body language told the tale of their being very comfortable in each other's personal space.

"What teenage boy hangs around when he's off the clock at the job he's working as punishment?" Her husband's deep voice held equal parts disbelief and bafflement.

"You didn't really believe that scheduling them on opposite shifts would keep them apart, John?" she asked, knowing that her husband was in denial about the seriousness of their daughter's relationship with this young man.

Mona said the only words that could ease some of his dismay. "Two weeks until they both return to college, baby."

She stroked the tense line of his shoulders.

"Hmm," he grunted as he continued to watch the live security feed.

Into the Wilderness

Danya and Rick: Their First Goodbye

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 4

"Stop glaring at that boy, John. It won't change the outcome of this weekend." Mona said as she settled in against his side when he raised his arm to pull her closer.

They stood together at the front window with a clear view of the driveway, where their youngest child, Danya, used graceful hand gestures to show Rick Maxwell where to place her backpack, large suitcase, and her mountain bike in the cargo area of his old pickup truck. Glen and Jane Maxwell had assured the Fullertons it was road-trip-worthy during their dessert meeting at the Maxwells' home two nights ago.

"Well, don't expect me to smile and cheer as that boy takes our baby girl camping so they can have privacy to do more than sneak kisses in the walk-in refrigerator at the bakery, and snuggle up on the couch when he comes over to the house to watch movies with her."

"Danya could have lied by omission to us, John. She didn't have to tell us that Rick was planning to meet her and her girlfriends at Treehouse Village for their second annual summer send-off."

Mona turned and looked up, willing her husband to pull his gaze away from the scene outside. After several long, tense, silent moments, John turned his head and tilted his chin down until his eyes met hers. She tipped up onto her toes to brush a kiss across the stern line of his compressed lips.

"They're nineteen, John. You and I were camping and snuggling and doing all manner of things behind our parents' backs when we were their age."

Mona hugged him tightly with both of her arms squeezed around his waist, leaning into him and letting him support most of her weight.

"We turned out all right. They will, too."

He just grunted before he leaned down to kiss her with some heat.

~~~~~

"Your parents are making out in front of the bay window, Danya, like they're filming the closing scene of a romantic movie."

Danya paused in double-checking the lockdown clamp that secured her generic bike next to Rick's fancy model. She glanced over her shoulder to see a variation of what she'd been seeing at home during her whole life.

"Yeah," she said before turning her attention back to the truck bed and testing the bungee cords holding their luggage, gear, and provisions in place against the outer wall of the passenger compartment. "They're always really affectionate at home, but right now my mom is also probably trying to distract my dad from brooding about my spending the weekend with a boy who can't wait to get me naked."

Slow, heavy footfalls on asphalt told her Rick was headed closer to her before Danya felt his hands at her waist gently lift her and turn her. His eyes twinkled with mischief while he set her back on her feet and leaned down until they were nose to nose. "Maybe your mom is distracting your dad from seeing the way you undress me with your eyes," he whispered.

Danya laughed, placing her palm against the center of his muscular chest, she said, "In your dreams, Rick. Now, let's go say goodbye to my parents before we hit the road."

~~~~~

"I think your dad just tried to crush my hand," Rick said in a conversational tone of voice as he backed out of the Fullerton's driveway. Once they were headed down the street toward the main road that would take them to the interstate, he asked, "You're sure your girlfriends are okay that I'm coming with you, Danya? I don't want them to try to drown me in the canal while we're tubing."

Danya laughed. "You're welcome as long as we follow the rules of no PDA during the days' group activities. During the evenings the girls will amuse themselves." She placed her hand atop his on the gearshift and squeezed. "We'll have the nights to ourselves, Rick."

At a red light, Rick turned to face Danya. "You set the pace for what happens when we're in private. Okay, Danya?"

"Okay, Rick," she said with a firm nod as the traffic light switched to green.

~~~~~

"Oh, Rick," Danya sighed when she entered their cozy little one-room treetop cabin after her trip to the women's bathhouse. Her towel and plastic bucket full of toiletries thumped to the floor at her feet.

Flickering illumination from several battery-operated flameless candles grouped together in the center of the metal bistro table in the corner added to the glow from the fading fire in the potbelly stove on the other side of the room, and threw soft shadows and enough light for her to see what he'd been doing while she'd been showering and primping.

The thin mattress on the sleeping platform was now covered with a thick gusseted feather bed, two fluffy pillows that looked like oversized marshmallows, and turned back sheets in some pale color she couldn't exactly identify.

She noticed a potted leafy green plant atop the cooler at the foot of the platform when she drifted two steps farther into the small room.

"All this was in that box you wouldn't let me carry inside when we arrived?"

"Yeah," Rick said so softly that she read the word from his unsmiling lips more than she heard it.

Three more short steps brought her to within touching proximity.

"Thank you, Rick, for going to all this effort to make my first time special. You're so sweet to me," she said, reaching out and snagging two of her fingers into the threadbare cotton of his Darlingfield YMCA staff t-shirt to pull him close enough to kiss.

~~~~~

While Danya's kiss short-circuited his brain synapses and redirected all of his sensory focus to the soft, wet warmth of her lips and her mouth and the damp fresh scent of his girlfriend's body, Rick felt like the condoms in the front pocket of his hiking shorts were going to burst into flame.

_Secure the door before this goes any farther_ , he kept chanting in his head between suckling forays and dueling tongues.

When Rick raised his head to break the kiss, Danya rocked back on her heels with a dazed look in her eyes.

He pulled a wedge-shaped metal door stopper from his other front pocket and showed it to her. "Do you want to get in bed while I make sure the door stays shut all night, Danya?"

He walked toward the door without waiting for her reply, which was why he was completely unable to utter even one word when he finished with the door and turned around to see Danya standing where he'd left her. Only she now looked very different.

She'd shaken her hair loose from the messy topknot. She'd removed her cut-off sweatshorts and Virginia State hooded jacket to reveal all of her smooth brown skin and curves nominally dressed in some sort of clingy lace tank shirt half-top and matching little undershorts. Neither scrap of fabric hid her nipples or her crotch from his greedy gaze as he stepped closer.

~~~~~

Danya watched Rick strip out of his t-shirt, and thought she owed her big sister Monica major props for her lingerie recommendations when they'd gone shopping at the Dulles Towne Centre last week during one of Monica's rare breaks between private protection assignments.

When Rick grabbed Danya up into his arms and guided her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed, being the sole focus of his strength and heat and hardness pushed everything else out of her head.

~~~~~

"Does that feel good, Danya?" Rick asked, pressing the damp washcloth between her legs with one hand and stroking the side of her face with the other.

"Yes," she said, still touched that he had planned ahead with a sealed mixing bowl filled with water, face cloths, and pain reliever in a crate tucked under the sleeping platform.

Now that the cluster of candles provided the only dim lighting from across the small room, Danya could barely see Rick's features beyond the shine of his dark eyes and the flash of his teeth as he leaned over her. She hoped that was all he could see of her. Otherwise, she'd faint from the embarrassment of letting him care for her in such an intimate way.

"Why did you choose me to be your first, Danya?"

She covered his hand between her legs, then reached up to stroke his scruffy cheek with her other hand.

"Because you love me, Rick. And my mom and my sister told me that my first time should be with someone I love who loves me back."

~~~~~

Rick felt safe from exposure in the low lighting. He felt hidden enough to ask, "How can you tell?"

The flash of her smile preceded her soft chuckle before she said, "The way you nagged me all summer about leaving the back door of Full Bake unlocked for deliveries when I arrived first to start up the ovens and the dough rotation, then you started coming in earlier to keep me safe. The way you walk slower so I don't have to skip to walk beside you." She sighed. "And you really listen to me whenever I'm speaking to you, like now. I can feel your attention entirely focused on me, Rick. Those are just a few of the ways that you show me you love me."

When she tugged on his ear, Rick leaned closer to brush her lips with his, and tasted the salt of her tears.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Rick," she whispered at the end of their kiss.

After she drifted to sleep, he whispered, "I'll miss you more."

~~~~~

On Sunday afternoon Danya and Rick were sunburned, exhausted, and giddy with a dash of melancholy as they hugged her closest girlfriends goodbye following their short bike ride. Danya and Rick waved until the two cars disappeared around a sharp curve in the road.

Danya pivoted toward Rick to find that he was already staring at her. His arms came up around her when she stepped into his body and peered up into his face.

"One more plate of Old Bay waffle fries with lump crab meat at the Crystal Caverns Cafe before we go home sound good to you, Rick?"

His eyes twinkled with amusement and one corner of his mouth twitched.

"You're going to turn into a waffle fry, Dan."

She laughed. "So that's a yes," she said, then jumped up to smack her smiling lips against his. "Good. First, we eat, then we drive."

Rick nodded his agreement with her plan as he escorted Danya to the passenger side of his truck, opened the door, then boosted her up onto the bench seat.

By the time he rounded the hood and got himself buckled into the driver's seat Danya was fastened into place with her legs stretched along the seat and her bare feet were tucked under Rick's thigh.

They ordered their lunch as carryout. Danya fed Rick and herself alternating mouthfuls as they drove the longest route home.

~~~~~

Ten miles outside of Darlingfield, Rick pulled into a rest area and parked under a security lamp, but kept the motor running to keep the heat on for Danya, who had jiggled herself into sweatpants and a jacket after sunset brought much cooler temperatures.

"You love me, Danya. And I love you, but you're still breaking up with me when I drop you off at home tonight?"

She looked into his eyes and nodded, afraid that speaking would unleash a flood of tears.

"We're not going to call or e-mail or write old-fashioned letters or try to visit each other on weekends?"

Felling her eyes fill with tears, she gently shook her head no, then took a deep breath for courage.

"I know I'll pine for you, Rick. I'll want to visit every weekend. My grades will suffer. My parents will freak. They'll lecture me about how much I owe to my enslaved ancestors who suffered and sacrificed to give me opportunities they were denied.

"I'm being selfish because not being your girlfriend anymore is the only way I can go back to college tomorrow without wanting to curl into a ball and die."

"Come here," he said, reaching for her with both hands.

~~~~~

Rick held Danya close while she cried silently against his chest, drenching his favorite Dierks Bentley concert t-shirt.

He waited until it felt like no more moisture was being added to his shirt before he said, "You were my friend before you were my girlfriend, and I don't want to lose our friendship, Danya. Here's my counter offer: on October first we start e-mailing each other as friends who care about each other very much."

Danya was quiet and still for long enough for him to wonder if she'd fallen asleep.

"November first," she whispered.

"What?" he asked just as quietly.

"Let's resume our friendship on November first because it'll take me at least two months to believe that not trying to maintain a long-distance relationship with you is the wisest choice. Okay, Rick?"

"Okay."

~~~~~

After Rick had carried Danya's bike and all of her bags and gear through the side door into the garage, they stood hugging each other in the gap between the open driver's door and the cab of his truck.

She pressed a kiss to his breastbone as he kissed the crown of her head before they both let go and stepped back to stare into each other's eyes.

"Don't add moping to your moody broodiness, Rick. That's overkill," she said, backing away from his truck while he climbed inside and closed the door.

He leaned his head out of the rolled down window. "E-mail me on November first, Danya. Our friendship is worth the effort." He started slowly backing his truck into the street. "Go on inside now, Boss Dan, so I can go home knowing you're safe."

He saluted in answer to her wave before she turned on her flip-flopped heel and ran inside. She flashed the porch light twice as he spun the steering wheel to head down the street.

Carrying On

Rick: After the Break-up

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 5

"That Maxwell kid never quits," the physical training supervisor for the campus gym said in a hushed voice to the woman standing next to him.

She wore a plain fitted t-shirt and baggy sweat pants. Both garments had small emblems of the seal for the U.S. Forest Service discreetly attached. Otherwise, Dr. Morgan Grant looked unremarkable, which was one of her many assets in a career based in misdirection.

During their two years of association the gym supervisor had recognized that Morgan was looking for more than physically fit candidates to become forest rangers. She wanted more brain than brawn. Frederick Maxwell had much more than the average person's allotment of both.

"Tell me his training schedule again, please," Morgan said.

"Sundays off. Although he bikes the trails or hits the slopes depending on the season. Monday through Saturday he works in audits of gymnastics, modern dance, and classical ballet classes around his daily a.m. and p.m. workout sessions and academic course load. Rick..."

~~~~~

While Morgan Grant watched her potential recruit move through another circuit of thirty-second intervals, she listened to the gym supe's assessment.

Maxwell's consistent Dean's List academic performance with a double major in chemistry and human physiology, and a minor in ergonomic product design had flagged her attention. Observing him now through the one-way mirror confirmed everything her research, family background check and interviews with his professors had suggested.

Maxwell was a strong prospect to invite to compete to enter a clandestine state-side entity of Intra-national Rangers, nicknamed I-Rangers as a nod to the favorite cartoon crime fighters of the kids the group's leader had adopted after his first mission. What she was seeing combined with what she already knew about Maxwell made it easy for her to decide to approach him.

~~~~~

As Rick exited the men's locker room, he heard, "Hey, Rick, I want to introduce you to someone." The gym supervisor called out to him from the doorway to his business office.

"It'll take fifteen minutes, max," he promised with a nod of his head toward the interior of the office.

Rick decided to find out if this introduction would answer the question of why he'd been feeling eyes on him throughout his workout—more than the usual flirtatious regard of the young women who were using the treadmills that hugged the perimeter of the workout area.

~~~~~

Morgan liked the way Frederick Maxwell entered the room. She watched his gaze assess the layout of the tight space, the supervisor, and her in about a second before he reached forward to shake her extended hand.

Once all three of them were seated, Morgan said, "Rick, since 2001 the increase in domestic terrorism means that our first responders are more vulnerable to danger as they execute their duties. The U.S. Forest Service is developing a team of rangers dedicated to back-up and rescue of first responders and covert agents in the United States." When she saw his eyes briefly flare wider, she asked, "Will you come with me now, to my office? It's just around the corner. Thirty minutes to present the details, then however long it takes to answer your questions."

~~~~~

On a Friday night two weeks later Rick wondered if he had underestimated the challenges that competing for one of the ten spots for this semester's class of recruits would demand from him. Had his search for additional ways to distract himself from counting down the days and hours until November first led him into a situation he couldn't handle?

Lightly garbed in a long-sleeved thermal shirt, summer-weight sweat pants, performance socks, and heavy duty hiking boots of above average amateur quality, Rick kept his breathing and his running pace steady. Moving kept him warm in the cold darkness of the heavily wooded terrain. His competitor had veered off on a southeast trajectory more than an hour earlier. They had twenty-four hours to use the start and end point coordinates, a tri-folded laminated map, and a compass to reach their destination forty miles—no, just over sixty-four kilometers away. He had to reset his brain to think of distances in metric first.

The first candidate to reach their destination won a spot. The second lost with a _thanks for trying, here's your ride back to campus_ farewell.

Rick and his competitor had started at nine p.m. A glance at the shadows cast by the moon glow and his own internal clock told him it was around one a.m. His plan was to sleep for four hours from two until sunrise. He estimated his cautious nighttime pace at two mi—three point two kilometers per hour. He would more than double that with daylight.

~~~~~

Five hours after sunrise, Rick almost stepped on his competitor, who was huddled under a blanket of brush and branches. The guy moaned when Rick knelt at his side and called his name. Pushing away all of the foliage revealed that his competitor was unconscious from fever while clutching what appeared to be his broken arm to his chest.

It looked like he'd been there for hours, which alarmed Rick because he'd assumed Dr. Grant and her team were tracking their progress, but his competitor's condition made it clear they weren't—or something was wrong with their surveillance method.

Rick pulled his shirt off over his head, then ripped off the sleeves.

"I'm sorry, man. This is going to hurt," he whispered as he propped the guy up into sitting as Rick gently straightened his competitor's injured arm to use one shirt sleeve as a compression binding and the other as a sling to immobilize the damaged limb against his chest.

Rick hated seeing litter anywhere, especially in what should be pristine wilderness, but he had taken advantage of the plastic water bottle he'd found last night close to a trickling stream. After drinking a few sips before climbing a tree to fall face-down with his arms and legs hugging a sturdy upper branch, he'd gone to sleep hoping not to wake up sick to his stomach. At sunrise he woke up feeling exhausted, but not sick. Now he was doubly glad he'd endured the inconvenience of carrying the filled plastic bottle in one hand with his thumb over the opening to keep most of the water from sloshing out.

"Drink," Rick said as he let a few drops wet his competitor's lips, which parted to let his tongue frantically lap at the water faster than it fell.

Once the water was gone, Rick tied the empty bottle to his sweat pants with the drawstring at his waist. Sweat stuck the laminated map in place between his hip and briefs. He checked that his pants cuffs were still tucked into his boots, and his compass was still in his zippered pocket with a tap of his finger while he decided on the best way to carry his competitor.

~~~~~

Morgan entered the RV parked next to the decommissioned wilderness research station. The mobile unit was half monitoring equipment and half medical suite.

"Progress?" she asked the three members of the overnight crew after reciprocating their nods and closed-mouthed smiles.

"Candidate orange pulled ahead of candidate blue at twenty-three-thirty-seven and dusted blue until oh-two-hundred when they both stopped. Respiration and lack of movement indicate sleeping," he said, reading from the activity summary.

Morgan looked over his shoulder to scan the monitor with real-time stats.

She frowned. "Why are blue and orange currently moving so slowly?" She leaned closer. "And in tandem?"

After a loaded pause, the second crew member who was also the overnight shift leader and an EMT said, "Oh, Doc, you know we've seen this before. The pampered youngsters decide that really roughing it just isn't for them so they make sure they miss the twenty-four-hour deadline. They're keeping each other company while they stroll toward failure and mediocrity."

Everyone in the RV had completed this exact challenge with hours to spare ahead of their competition.

Morgan turned to the third member of the overnight crew who was the computer tech specialist.

"What do you think?"

The computer tech scowled at the other two night crew members, then looked directly into Morgan's eyes. "I volunteered to go put eyes on blue and orange, but the shift leader said no." His eyes cut sideways, then returned to meet Morgan's gaze. "Each of the four times I've volunteered since oh-seven-hundred."

Morgan glanced at her watch. So he'd been worried for just over two hours. Her gut agreed with the computer tech's concern.

The RV was designed for off-road maneuvers for many practical reasons. This situation was one of them.

"We're rolling out to meet them."

~~~~~

At first, Rick thought he was imagining the sounds of a large vehicle crunching closer to his location. It was hard for him to think beyond the ache in his shoulders as he carried his unconscious competitor across his back like he'd seen his dad carry a badly injured, tranqued doe many years ago. The added weight slowed his pace to a crawl, but so far he hadn't tripped or fallen, making the loss of speed worth the cost in time. Because breathing evenly and battling exhaustion and dehydration to keep moving forward step by step were his only priorities. He was worried. And once he got them back to civilization with water and food and medical attention, he would let loose his furious anger at how effed-up this test was. It didn't inspire his confidence. It didn't make him excited to join Dr. Grant's team.

From one thought to the next, Rick went from being alone with his human burden and his grievances to facing the front grill of a motor home that looked like an RV and a Hummer had made a tank baby.

He stopped, blinking as Dr. Grant jumped out and ran toward him. Three big guys followed her, but Rick wondered if he'd gone deaf because their lips were moving but he couldn't hear them. Then he was on his knees and the weight of his competitor was being lifted from his shoulders after Dr. Grant peeled Rick's fingers open and lowered his arms from their clenching hold on the other candidate's body.

Rick's body shut down.

~~~~~

"Jesus, Mary mother of God, and all the heavenly host!" Morgan added to the chorus of profanity as Rick collapsed against her.

She managed to keep him from hitting the ground until the three men returned from loading candidate orange into the RV. The EMT carried Rick in a firefighter's carry to the second bed in the medical treatment area of the mobile unit.

"Go, go, go! Straight to the medical facility at headquarters," she said while starting an assessment of orange's condition.

Out of the corner of her eye Morgan saw that Rick was still unconscious. Her loud voice hadn't roused him. He looked dehydrated and exhausted. She prayed that those were his only medical problems.

~~~~~

"... goddamned incompetent... What the ever-loving hell..."

Hours later, Morgan and the three overnight crew members stood in front of the general's desk for twenty minutes before he calmed enough to dole out six consecutive weekends of penalties. Remedial training in candidate monitoring protocols for the overnight shift leader and the crew member who had dismissed the computer tech's concerns. No strikes against the tech beyond the authority to go over the shift leader's head and follow his instincts if similar circumstances occurred in the future.

When only Morgan and the general remained in his office, he said, "Shift change was scheduled for eleven-hundred, Doc. Why'd you show up early?"

She declined his offer of a drink of bourbon from his crystal decanter with one small shake of her pounding head.

"I wanted to see how candidate blue was performing as of the halfway mark. It didn't make any sense that he'd traveled just under eighteen kilometers in five hours of darkness over unfamiliar terrain, then averaged less than two per hour from soon after sunrise. Blue's heart rate was too fast for the slow pace he was keeping, and orange's was too slow."

The general sipped and nodded.

"Okay, even with the signed and notarized non-disclosure documents, waivers, and liability indemnity clauses, if these two boys tell their parents, we're screwed and so is our team, Doc.

"We need candidate blue because we can't teach that kind of determination; that kind of commitment to the welfare of a stranger. I want him as an I-Ranger—" His lips quirked in amusement over the nickname. "I want him fast-tracked to training for special assignments as soon as he graduates from college."

~~~~~

The overnight crew was waiting for Morgan in the hall outside of the general's office.

"Enough with the shame-faced looks, men. Disaster was averted. Our candidates will recover."

The men fell into step around Morgan as she walked down the hall toward the corridor that would take her to the medical facility.

"We're going to use this near-miss to improve how we operate."

~~~~~

Rick's body felt like hundreds of aches rolled into a pulsing ball of throbbing discomfort even though he could tell he was covered in soft sheets and a warm comforter in a very comfortable bed.

When he opened his eyes the details of a super nice hospital room swam into focus.

"Welcome back, Rick."

Before he turned his head, he recognized the soft voice as belonging to Dr. Grant.

"Do you want me to contact your parents?"

Rick stared at the woman seated next to his bed and struggled to comprehend the question. Parents, he thought, and a switch clicked in his brain. His mom and dad, who had just forgiven him for being a destructive drunken idiot with his skateboard. He could only imagine the lectures and punishments if they found out about this.

"No, thank you, Dr. Grant. How's the other candidate doing?"

After a few blinks and a slight tilt of her head, she smiled, then said, "He's good. Clean break on the arm and meds to counteract his allergic response to an inflamed bug bite we found behind his ear.

"He's awake, but doesn't remember that you carried him. Do you want to tell him, or do you want me to?"

Rick considered the question for several minutes while Dr. Grant waited without seeming impatient or annoyed. He finally shook his head, which was a mistake because his thoughts swam with the motion.

"No, thanks, Dr. Grant. Just let him believe you and your team rescued him. That's a less complicated explanation."

Rick closed his eyes to help sort his thoughts. His eyes popped open again to stare into the doctor's steady gaze.

"The tracking devices were in our compasses, clothes or boots. Did they die or what?"

He straightened his arm that was IV-free to reach for the cup with a straw sticking out of it. Cold water had never tasted so delicious to him.

~~~~~

Morgan wanted to smile and congratulate herself for recognizing this young man's potential to thrive with her team, but she didn't.

She answered his questions. "Compass, shirt collar and boots. R and D people are investigating the malfunction source.

"Tell me what happened, Rick," she said when he stopped drinking on a long, airy slurp.

Morgan listened. She waited patiently every time his voice trailed away into silence.

Rick continued in a contemplative whisper. "I couldn't leave him. Making a litter would've taken too long. The brush was too damp for me to start a fire."

His eyes focused on her again. "His fever kept spiking. He needed help and all he had was me."

Jesus, Mary mother of God, and all the heavenly host, Morgan thought when she heard the break in his voice on the last word. By law Frederick Maxwell was a consenting adult. Morgan was looking at a nineteen-year-old scared kid who had exceeded all of her highest expectations under daunting circumstances that would have challenged seasoned operatives.

"You were more than enough, Rick. You stayed calm. Considered your best options. You used your smart brain and strong body to rescue yourself and the other candidate from a situation you never should have been in. Your own personal training saved you and I want to incorporate that into how we prepare and evaluate future candidates.

"Join my team, Rick."

He nodded and smiled.

"Or I could sue you; become a ski bum after graduation."

Morgan smiled and nodded, too. "Yes, you could. Are you going to?"

~~~~~

Rick liked Dr. Grant. He liked the fact that her smile wasn't a gloating one. Because they both knew that he was going to join her team.

In the safety of this private hospital room he could acknowledge that despite his earlier terror he had also thought of saving himself and his competitor as a mission he could not fail. And he hadn't. No agonizing thoughts about missing Danya was an unexpected bonus.

"I'll join your team, Dr. Grant. Here are my terms..."

~~~~~

"Well?" the general demanded hours later when Morgan was again seated in a chair in front of his desk.

This time she accepted the bourbon.

"He's in—if we authorize him to work part-time in R and D on fixing what went wrong with the tracking devices. I agreed, sir."

The general finished his drink, then nodded once as he thumped his empty crystal tumbler onto his desk blotter.

Charging Forward

Danya: After the Break-up

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 6

Swimming laps two or three days each week helped Danya Fullerton sort her thoughts when the jumble of concerns about her loaded class schedule and heartache over her separation from Rick threatened to paralyze her. Propelling herself through the water made it easier to focus on her top priority: meeting her parents' high expectations by doing well in school to lay a strong foundation for her career after graduation.

She scolded herself to stop wallowing in her longing for Rick. She wished that cutting out her melancholy memories about their last night together was as easy as the big chop she'd done to her hair two weeks ago. Getting rid of the chemically straightened length made it easier for her to wear a swim cap, which protected her natural new-growth from getting wet and saturated with chlorinated water multiple times every week. Her parents would totally freak out when they saw it, but there was nothing anyone could do to change it now.

Leaving the locker room an hour later, Danya nearly collided with two of her classmates from her Intro to Human Resources Management lab. She thought their names were Tasha and Elle, but she wasn't sure.

"Hey, you're Danya, right?" the tall bubbly girl asked as all three of them stooped to pick up the orange sheets of paper that had dropped out of her hands during their near-miss.

"Yes," Danya said, her eyes scanning the words Halloween Party Tonight in bold print.

The shy, shorter girl smiled and pressed the paper into Danya's hand. "You should come to our sorority house tonight. A D.J., pizza, candy, sodas, and games. BYOB. No cover charge if you wear a costume. Bring some friends, too."

"Oh, most definitely!" the tall girl said after they'd gathered all of the scattered flyers and stood. "Tell the guys at the door that Natasha and Elle invited you."

Elle nodded while she taped one of the flyers to the wall next to the doorway.

"See you later," the two sorors trilled as they hurried down the hall.

Considering her options, Danya moved slowly in their wake.

~~~~~

"Sexy nurse."

"No! Sexy police officer!"

Danya's two dorm mates playfully scowled at each other.

"You two can fight over which one of you wears what. I'm going as an unsexy baker."

Danya pinned her floppy chef's hat into place at a jaunty angle with sparkly hair clips, then used large safety pins to attach a whisk and a spatula to the front of her white apron with a Full Bake logo at the top edge.

Nicki shook her head at Danya. "Hate to contradict your delusions, roomy, but your pretty face tops off a very sexy bod that is accentuated by your snug t-shirt, tight jeans and your apron cinched at your waist. The construction boots add edge." She shared a smile with Tamara, who said, "You look like a treat all the boys are going to want to unwrap."

Danya laughed.

"Thanks for the compliments even though I think you're both nuts." She clapped once. "Now come on and get dressed so we can get our dance on, eat goodies, and flirt with cute boys."

Her dorm mates laughed as they scrambled into action.

Tomorrow Danya would send Rick a chatty e-mail about tonight's party. She would keep the tone light and friendly. Maybe pretending that she thought of Rick as simply her friend would make it the truth someday very soon.

Farewell Toast

Danya and Rick: Another Departure

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 7

"You didn't cry this much last year," Rick said to Danya after she dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose. He offered her another new tissue from the bedside stack when she tossed the used one into the paper bag on the floor next to the sleeping platform where they sat touching along one side from hip to thigh.

Danya crushed the new tissue into a ball in her fist as soon as it transferred from his hand to hers.

"Last year I knew I would see you during Thanksgiving and Christmas with easy e-mail access throughout the school year. But this year when you return to Colorado it'll be to move to Alaska to start your career with the U.S. Forest Service. You just told me that you're not likely to make it home for the holidays and your Internet access will be unpredictable." She sniffled. "It feels like this is our last goodbye, Rick."

~~~~~

He had asked her to live with him. Living together in Colorado last summer had been a hectic success as a test run. Now they'd both just graduated. His starting salary combined with his royalties earned from his contributions to inventions for Morgan's team meant he could easily support them while Danya pursued additional culinary training.

He could tell that she had been tempted. Despite her five-year plan centered around expanding her family's local bakery, Danya wanted to come with him. It was tough for Rick not to push harder for her to move with him.

Because Danya was right. This was the fourth and final time the two of them would end the summer by renting this same elevated little cabin at their favorite treehouse camp. This was the last time they would hike and swim and bike all day, shower together in the enclosed outdoor stall, then make love throughout the night, understanding that their summer exclusivity ended when he took her home.

Rick draped his arm across Danya's shoulders and hugged her close. He dropped a kiss against the riot of her fluffy curls, extra full due to the heat and humidity.

"This is the last time we break up, Danya," he whispered. "Promise to write to me even though it might take me weeks or months to reply. Tell me about your life. Keep being my friend because I'll never stop being yours."

So far all of Rick's lies to his family and friends had been sins of omission. He really had spent the past two summers in rigorous training courses for wildfire prevention and wildland firefighting. But no one outside of Morgan's team knew that Rick was also training to become much more than a simple forest ranger.

The team psychologist always encouraged Rick to establish a personal lodestone to provide an emotional anchor during his special assignments. Loving Danya and her love for him grounded Rick, focused him.

She lifted her teary-eyed face to his.

"I refuse to pine for you, Frederick Maxwell," she whispered the other part of their annual summer ritual.

"Good," he said before leaning down to kiss her soft, salty lips.

~~~~~

In the murky glow of the cusp of dawn of their last day together, Danya lay on her side and propped her head against the palm of her hand. She gazed at the taller, stronger version of the boy she'd first slept with three years ago. This man was more serious and harder, but his loving, generous heart remained honest and true.

She understood Rick and his habitual silences well enough to suspect that there were key details he wasn't telling her about his job with the U.S. Forest Service. Things he wasn't sharing because he couldn't. Danya felt sure that Rick's new career was very dangerous. Otherwise, why would he need to transform his body into a human machine? Why would he feel compelled to remain so vigilant and alert regardless of the environment? Even now he wasn't deeply asleep; he hadn't been since she'd opened her eyes a few minutes ago.

Danya lowered her face to nuzzle the side of his neck before she kissed his bristly jaw.

He rolled his head to angle his face toward her, but didn't open his eyes.

"You spent all that time studying me and that's what I get—a nibble." Morning grogginess dropped his deep voice another octave lower.

Danya pressed her lips to his, then retreated with a feathery brush across his mouth.

"I'm memorizing you, Rick," she whispered.

His eyes slowly opened to gaze up directly into her eyes while his hand splayed across the small of her back pulled her closer and his other hand reached for her face.

"Remember this, Danya," he said before he pressed her lips into contact with his.

~~~~~

Two hours later, Danya turned away from their portable tabletop grill to set a tin camp plate in front of Rick.

One glance showed him three big wedges of caramelized French toast, slices of ham and a mound of sautéed vegetables. His arm automatically lifted to make space for her at his side when she slid in next to him on the picnic table bench chained to the thick base of the tree that supported their elevated cabin.

"Thank you, Dan. This looks delicious."

"You're welcome," she said with a smile and a playful nudge against his right side to encourage him to pick up his camp spork with his left hand when she grabbed her eating utensil with her right hand.

"So good," he said, closing his eyes to relish his first bite of crusty bread exterior around tender interior saturated in a rich syrup of fresh lemon juice and a potent mix of savory spices.

Rick felt her body settle deeper against his side. He felt Danya's pleasure in feeding him and eating from the same plate of food. He felt her satisfaction in surprising him with this unexpected treat.

"The on-site property manager provided everything in exchange for a cooking lesson for her and her staff in the caretaker's cabin when you went to get that nail hole in the tire patched yesterday afternoon," she said in a cheerfully self-satisfied tone of voice when he asked her how she'd arranged it.

On this hot, sunny morning in August Rick sat next to Danya and smiled, silently promising himself and her that he would always remember how good it feels to be fed by the person he would always know by heart.

Moody as Ever

Rick and Danya: Reunited

_Dodging Eros_ extra story no. 8

Rick drifted through the mostly empty rooms of his childhood home in Darlingfield, Virginia. It had taken him several weeks to convince his parents to sell their house to him at the fair market price in order to finance their wish to retire in Arizona after Rick's scheduled departure from the U.S. Forest Service. His seven-year term as an Intra-national Ranger had included very little down time. That fact plus a frugal lifestyle some had called monkish, and numerous salary bonuses for hardship and hazardous duty assignments in addition to his royalties from inventions he'd developed with Morgan's team meant he could've paid cash directly to his parents for their house, which would've led to questions Rick wasn't allowed to answer to anyone with less than the highest security clearance.

Sometimes his lies of omission to his family and few civilian friends weighed heavily on his conscience. Rick had actually trained as a U.S. Forest Ranger and wildland firefighter so those were the details he shared with everyone outside of his professional inner circle. Those were the details he had been jotting down on unsigned postcards from national parks and sending to Danya in reply to her chatty handwritten letters sent roughly once each month to his P.O. Box. Twice, he had shaken off the gut punch of reading about Danya's engagement to local men she had fallen in love with. And twice Rick had privately rejoiced when she'd written about her reasons for breaking the engagement and returning the ring: the first for irreconcilable differences in their religious beliefs; the second for Danya's refusal to step down from running her family's bakery. She remained cordial with both men.

Despite his heart's deepest desire, Rick still hadn't contacted Danya in-person since his permanent relocation to Virginia three months ago. He'd half expected her to drop by once the Darlingfield grapevine broadcast his purchase of his parents' house and his emergency appointment as fire chief of the Darlingfield Volunteer Fire Department in the wake of an engine rollover that killed the previous chief and paralyzed the deputy chief. Tomorrow would be Rick's first official day as the fire chief although he'd spent the past week meeting his firefighters and reviewing administrative protocols with the interim chief, a man who had retired from the position five years ago when his escalating health issues had made him medically unfit for rigorous active duty.

Rick was excited to begin this next phase of his life. Once he'd settled into this version of his professional career, he'd decide exactly how to reconnect with Danya.

Maybe a hard workout of strip sets with old-fashioned barbells would make him exhausted enough to sleep for more than the maximum of five hours his body had been trained to survive on despite forty-five days of Morgan's mandatory severance of duty transition program in Colorado before his return to Virginia two months ago.

~~~~~

Special Instructions: Hi, Danya! Would you please take this order to Rick personally and share it with him? Thank you very much, Melissa Maxwell-Lineberger (Hello to your parents also)

Gift Message: Congrats, Fire Chief Maxwell! Love, Mel – your favorite meddler and best sister ever

Danya kept rereading the request from Rick's younger sister. She'd known about Rick's return to Darlingfield almost as soon as his loaded down pickup truck entered the town's borders thanks to announcements from seemingly every other patron who had entered the bakery that afternoon. Danya had argued with herself about whether or not to contact Rick first, but family and business demands kept giving her legitimate reasons not to approach him.

Danya scanned the meal items of shepherd's pie, vegetable green salad, and a dozen Loaded Lemon cookies. A glance at the wall clock and some quick calculations meant getting everything cooked and packaged and delivered by the end of her twelve-hour shift at five was doable.

~~~~~

Hair wet from his recent shower, feet bare and body dressed in an old Darlingfield YMCA t-shirt and baggy sweatpants, Rick heard the doorbell chime when he was halfway down the stairs. A few seconds later he opened the front door and stared at Danya's smiling face through the clear glass of the locked storm door. She held up the large wicker basket by the double handles in her left hand.

"Let me in, Moody Broody Maxwell, before our dinner gets cold."

Shaking his head, Rick said, "Bossier than ever, Dan," as he opened the storm door and held it wide enough for her to step inside the entryway.

She smelled as delicious as he remembered, like baking bread and caramel; fresh herbs and vanilla extract. She looked more beautiful. Lush from the dark, thick strands of wavy hair floating against her shoulders to the swell of her breasts under the loose purple golf shirt with Culinary Crossroads stitched above the pocket, to the flare of her hips down to her shapely legs outlined by snug dark gray jeans.

"Where did you find purple hiking boots the same shade as your shirt and the delivery van?" he asked when his visual inspection reached her feet.

He followed Danya's confident stride through his house down the long hall to the mostly gutted kitchen, where she set her basket on the table. She looked around at the mess.

"The body shop customized the paint to match the shirt; the boots were a lucky find at a clearance sale. Plates? Utensils? Napkins, Rick?" She started opening the plastic storage boxes lined up against one wall. "I included cold bottles of hard lemonade so drinking glasses are optional. Yes!" Hands full of stoneware plates, she turned to him with a triumphant grin.

"Read your card while I set the table."

Shaking his head, Rick smiled and obeyed. He should have known that seven years apart hadn't broken their deep connection. Maybe he'd been afraid to hope it would endure the stress of time and distance and greater maturity.

~~~~~

Rick, the man standing only a few feet away from her, only superficially resembled the boy who'd left her seven years ago. This older version was leaner and harder. His skin was the deeper hue of someone who spent most of his days in the sun. The expression in his dark eyes was guarded until they twinkled with amused affection as he read his younger sister's note.

Soaking in his physical presence overwhelmed her with retroactive heartache about how much she'd missed him. Their written correspondence had maintained and deepened their connection despite Rick's succinct maximum of three sentences on postcards from national parts in every region of the country. But maybe excavating the layers of his condensed replies to her letters had actually contributed to the strengthening of their bond by encouraging each of them to pay attention to the coded language of their deepest emotions.

From one of Rick's first postcards Danya's suspicions that there was more to his U.S. Forest Service career than he'd led her and his family to believe were nudged by the phrase, "They're training me to see the forest and each of the individual trees to protect it all for the greatest good." The loose, uneven spacing of his normally cramped writing had made her think he'd been exhausted on the day he wrote it. Over the years she'd learned to read his mood within and between the lines of his writing. Now she had the luxury of studying his face and his body, his voice and his scent. She was going to absorb him into all of her senses.

~~~~~

Rick knew Danya was going to embrace him one breath before her breasts nudged his back, then the side of her face pressed between his shoulder blades as her arms reached around to loop his waist, and squeezed, imprinting the dips and curves of the front of her body onto the back of his body. He crossed his arms atop her linked hands to pull her closer by cupping her soft elbows.

"Welcome home, Rick," he heard her whisper at the same time he felt the subtle puff of her breath through the threadbare cotton of his t-shirt.

Every other woman who had held him and loved him during the past seven years had been measured against the highest standard set by Danya. One or two had come close, but no other woman had loved him, accepted him and his taciturn ways as much as Danya with her joyous heart, ambitious goals, good-humored bossiness, and curiosity.

The way he felt in her presence and in her arms was his standard of measure for romantic love. When they were fledging adults their first four summers together had shaped Rick's personal definition of being in love. Now he intended to use their emotional history to build their present into a shared future.

Kissing her seemed like an effective opening volley.

~~~~~

Danya unclasped her hands when Rick's hands released her elbows before he uncrossed his arms and slowly turned in the circle of her embrace. She remained inside his personal space throughout the maneuver until they were plastered together from chest to thighs, which forced her to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact while he cupped his hands around her shoulders and she worked her hands under the hem of his shirt to place her palms against the taut, damp skin of his waist.

Through the soft cotton of her Cul Cross golf shirt sleeves she could feel the rough texture of the palms of his strong hands hold her in place as he studied every feature of her face. She searched his face, too, noticing the changes time and experience had etched across his skin and reflected in his intense gaze. Danya still recognized the boy she had known and loved; the man in front of her dared her to discover who he had become.

Bracing her hands against Rick's hips, Danya rocked up onto the tips of her toes, which slowly dragged her breasts up his torso. Rick lowered his face to hers to close the distance between them.

The first brush of his lips across Danya's mouth sparked a charge that made them smile in unison as they stared at each other cross-eyed. Danya lowered her lashes and leaned into his body with complete trust that he would support her weight. He did, tightening his hold on her shoulders to pull her up into their kiss.

He kept brushing his lips side to side from one corner of her mouth to the other, then pressing harder at the center until she parted her lips to nibble at his faint smile.

"You taste delicious," he whispered between shallow licks of his tongue into her mouth.

One of his hands stayed at her shoulder while the other caressed down her arm to her waist and clutched her close as if he could mesh their two bodies together regardless of clothes and skin.

Their initial spark became a conflagration of searing open-mouthed kisses that melded her sense of the present with memories of past moments of being in Rick's arms and gasping for breath as they stoked each other's desire.

Sometime later, after Danya was standing solidly on her own two feet again, she said, "You still use the same soap, Rick."

Seeing the brief flash of surprise in his slumberous gaze at hearing her comment made her feel less self-conscious about the fact that every once in awhile she bought a bar of his favorite soap just so she could smell it, smell him while she read his latest postcard.

Danya never unwrapped the soap because she always ended up including it among her monthly donation of toiletries to the county resource center for homeless people. She would probably never, ever tell him that.

~~~~~

Rick wondered about the cause for the shift in Danya's smile from triumphant to sheepish as they stared into each other's eyes. He wanted to know everything about the woman she'd become.

"Danya, will you go out to dinner with me this Friday night?"

Her bright smile turned triumphant again. "Oh, yes, Rick, I most certainly will."

More Than Pen Pals

To: RMax@counivoftech.edu

From: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

3:02 a.m. Nov. 1

Subject: Hello from a friend

Hi, Rick!

What did you do/are you still doing to celebrate Halloween?

Girlfriends and I partied at a sorority house where the d.j. spun an awesome mix of dance tunes until the police broke it up. (Thank God all three of us blew zeros on the breathalyzer test since we used our real i.d.s that show we're under 21!)

My class schedule is insane, which forces me to be a good time manager or suffer the consequences!

Write me back asap:-).

Your favorite boss,

D.

~~~~~

Rick had forced himself to go on his daily four-mile run at his maximum speed as soon as his eyes popped open at four-fifty-nine a.m., just a minute before his alarm clock sounded, instead of booting up the desktop computer in his single dorm room to see if there was an e-mail from Danya.

With each step he pounded around the campus, Rick told himself that he'd be okay whether Danya reached out or not.

~~~~~

To: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

From: RMax@counivoftech.edu

5:47 a.m. Nov. 1

re: Hello from a friend

Hey, Bossy Dan,

Glad you didn't get arrested.

I shot a few games of pool at a frat house with some guys from the gym. Left early after the third totally wasted girl tried to grab my crotch while she slurred about how hot I am. No way. Not interested in rolling the dice on being accused of committing a crime.

Escorted each one back to the relative safety of their groups of giggling friends. I think they were daring each other to approach me.

Just back from my morning run. Need to finish an orgo chem assignment before heading to the lab to conduct an experiment for extra credit. This class is hard as hell.

A recruiter for the U.S. Forest Service wants me to consider becoming a wildland firefighter after graduation.

Keep writing to me,

M.B.M.

To: RMax@counivoftech.edu

From: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

6:27 p.m. Nov. 1

re: re: Hello from a friend

OMG, Moody Broody Maxwell!

You totally buried the headline!

You're going to be a wildland firefighter?!!

Give me details now!

D.

~~~~~

Rick laughed out loud as he imagined Danya impatiently waiting for his next e-mail.

Good.

He settled into his rolling desk chair and started typing the public version of his professional training schedule.

He'd parse out the details to her between now and summer break.

~~~~~

Danya couldn't believe she'd turned into one of those girls who lived for seeing her boyfriend on the weekends during the summer. While she worked long hours at Full Bake during the week, Rick was shadowing a forest ranger and living in an observation tower at Shenandoah National Park. So far, they'd managed to spend nearly every Friday night through Sunday afternoon together by meeting at a campground midway between Darlingfield and the park.

"You should've been gone two hours ago, Ladybug," her dad said as he eyed her up and down from his wide-legged stance in the doorway to the main prep area where she was kneading bread dough.

Danya shook her head. "Josie's daughter broke her arm on the swings at day camp. Brandon's on his way in to cover so I can leave." A quick glance at the wall clock helped her predict her father's next words.

"Danya Fullerton, it's three o' clock. You've been here since four this morning and you're planning to drive by yourself for two hours on narrow, twisting roads to see that young man. I don't like it."

Danya laughed at how similar her dad's reaction to her delayed departure echoed Rick's when she'd called to tell him.

"Neither does Rick, which is why he's coming all the way to Darlingfield this weekend. He says he owes his family a visit anyway."

Danya watched her dad's facial features tighten against repeating his concerns about the seriousness of her relationship with that young man.

To distract him, she asked, "What time are you and Mom leaving for the Motown Review concert at Wolf Trap?"

It took more than a moment for her dad to accept the change in topic. After a sharp head shake he said, "As soon as your mama finishes adding a few more things to our picnic cooler." He paused as if debating with himself about his next words.

"Just because we're spending the night at a hotel doesn't mean it's acceptable for that young man to spend the night with you in our home, Danya."

She nodded, maintaining direct eye contact as she continued kneading the dough.

"Dad, Rick's spending tonight with his family. Tomorrow we're taking his sister and her best friend for a day at the beach, then back to Darlingfield for dinner with his family before he drops me off at home. I've invited him to come to eleven a.m. church service with us Sunday, then to brunch at the house. He'll spend the rest of Sunday with his family until he needs to return to Shenandoah."

Sharing this weekend itinerary was the easiest way Danya could think of to show her dad that her relationship with Rick was about so much more than sex.

She didn't look away as her dad stared into her eyes while he took step after step closer until he stood within touching distance on the other side of the counter where she was still working the dough. His closeness forced her to look up to maintain eye contact.

"Do you know how much I love you, Danya?"

Afraid she might start blubbering, Danya only nodded.

Her dad leaned forward across the counter to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Remember to set the alarm even when you're inside the house, especially then. You're the treasure that can not be replaced," he said before he turned to leave the prep area, calling out, "Mona! Baby, let's ride!" as he jogged down the hallway.

~~~~~

"Jane, you're telling me that our son's concern for his girlfriend's safety is the only reason he's spending this weekend at home with us? For only the second time this summer when his school break began two months ago!"

From her comfortable spot curled into the corner of the loveseat in their bedroom, Jane watched her husband pace toward the en suite bath, then back toward the closed armoire that held a television and a stereo.

"Glen. Sweetheart." She swept her hand toward the cushion next to her, and was pleasantly surprised when he stomped over to collapse beside her.

"Did you see Rick when he got here, Jane? Looking like Grizzly Adams! Is that what our tuition checks pay? For him to turn into some kind of mountain man?"

Jane grabbed his hand and pulled until his head and shoulders rested in the cradle of her hips and stomach. The rest of his body filled the loveseat with his stacked calves propped on the arm rest.

Jane looked down into Glen's scowling face while she gently stroked her free hand up and down the center of his chest. Eventually, his scowl eased and so did his agitated breathing.

Very quietly, she said, "Rick looks like a mountain man because that's who he is this summer. He stays away on the weekends not just because he wants to be with Danya; he also wants to avoid constantly arguing with you about everything.

"Our son loves you, Glen. He respects you." Jane stopped caressing her husband's chest to cup his cheek while she stared down into his eyes. "He's his own person, a young man who is in many ways very different from both of us. Rick needs to understand that we accept him as he is. That we're proud of him. Being with us needs to be a safe space for him."

Jane knew that saying that last touchy-feely statement was a risk with her no-nonsense husband, but she was ready to negotiate a permanent truce between her husband and their son.

"Tonight, listen to our son when he's answering Melissa's endless questions about his summer training. Hear how excited and satisfied and sometimes a bit overwhelmed he is about everything he's learning, Glen. Our boy needs you on his side. Will you please try, sweetheart?"

He closed his eyes on a deep sigh. Jane wondered if he had drifted to sleep until his eyelids slowly lifted.

"Yes, I'll try."

~~~~~

After he and Melissa loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, Rick said goodnight, then headed to his bedroom to call Danya, who answered her cell phone during the first ring.

"Bossy babes rock your socks off with something extra for hot aspiring forest rangers." Her laughter distorted the last few words of her silly greeting.

"What's the something extra, Dan? Maybe I should sneak over tonight to find out."

"Oh, you think you're the hottie being referred to, Rick?"

"I know you're the bossy babe who rocks my entire world, Dan, and that gift keeps me steady when life is unpredictable."

A quick little intake of breath filled the connection before she asked, "What happened, Rick? Something with your dad?"

Rick chuffed a laugh in sheepish amusement. For all of Danya's teasing remarks about his reticent manner she had developed an unnerving ability to read his moods and their origins.

"Yeah, it's about my dad, but first, is the alarm on?"

This time Danya gave an exasperated chuckle. "Yes, Mr. Worry Wart, all of the doors and windows are locked and the alarm is activated. Okay?"

"Good."

"Now tell me what's up with your dad tonight."

Knowing they were going to spend all day Saturday and most of Sunday together didn't keep them from talking on the phone for a couple of hours.

~~~~~

By the time Danya was walking Rick out to his truck after Sunday brunch both of them were feeling confused.

"What is going on with our parents, Danya?" Rick frowned down into her upturned face as they held each other loosely around their waists. "Your dad just gave me the half man-hug/back-thumping thing."

She shrugged. "Well, your dad kissed me on the cheek when we said goodbye after dinner last night, Rick!"

He drew her closer, eliminating all of the space between them until he gently rested his chin atop her wild mane of thick, fluffy curls.

"Parents are weird," he said and Danya agreed.

"What if I came home every other weekend, Danya, would that work for you?"

She leaned back in the circle of his arms to look up into his face. Her nod preceded her words. "Yes, Rick, that's good for me if it's what you want to do."

"It is," he said. "This weekend is the first time in a long time that my dad and I haven't spent every conversation fighting and every silence wasn't loaded with angry frustration. Maybe we can build a better relationship if we spend more time together this summer.

"You and I can still spend our last weekend of the summer together at the treehouse camp with your friends, Dan."

"That sounds good, Rick," she whispered before she tipped up on her toes to kiss his hairy chin, which he tucked under as her leaned down to capture her lips for a lingering kiss that reminded both of them that they'd had no privacy for deeper intimacies during the weekend.

He pulled back, waiting for Danya to open her eyes.

"Please leave Full Bake by one o' clock next Friday so you have time for a power nap before you hit the road no later then three." He nuzzled his bearded jaw against the soft curve of her neck. "Okay, Dan?" he whispered in her ear.

"Uh-huh," she sighed before turning her head to kiss him again.

~~~~~

"Shouldn't we alternate who does the breaking up at the end of the summer just like we do for almost everything else, Rick?"

Drowsing on a big flat rock in a shaded spot at the edge of the river, he didn't even open his eyes when he said, "No. Breaking up during the school year is not my idea; it's yours, Danya. Own it."

Her sigh of resignation preceded her lying at his side and pulling one of his arms around her shoulders while she scooted around until she settled into place draped along his body.

The no public displays of affection during the day rule had been scrapped when Danya's two girlfriends revealed that they were in love with each other. Something Danya and Rick had figured out at the beginning of last summer's stay at the treehouse camp. They'd decided to wait for her girlfriends to trust them with their truth.

"I missed you so much last year, Rick," she said quietly. "I kept trying not to imagine you dating smart, cute girls. I went on group dates, but shut down the guys who wanted one-on-one time." She released a shuddery little sigh.

"I love you more now than I did last summer, Rick."

He heard the emotional hitch in her breathing. He felt his own throat tighten as he brought his other arm out from under his head and across his chest to squeeze her body closer to his despite the sweaty stickiness of their skin.

"Danya Fullerton, you are the person I love most in this entire universe. If being romantically free is what you need in order to thrive during our separations, that's what we'll do at the end of every summer until we grow apart from each other or we can stay together for good. Okay?"

He tipped her chin up and looked down into her teary eyes. "Okay?" he whispered.

"Okay," she said just as softly.

~~~~~

To: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitue.edu

From: RMax@counivoftech.edu

7:12 p.m. Dec. 5

Subject: this summer

Chef Danya,

Late for study group for tomorrow's final exam, but here's the link to the application for the summer externship at the Colorado Teaching Kitchen. It's only a 20-min direct bus trip from my apartment.

Because my recruiting mentor just confirmed that I'll be working in Gunnison National Park this coming summer. I'll be able to come home for a few days around July 4 and at the end of the summer for our annual trip to the treehouse camp, but that's it.

I love you,

R.

To: RMax@counivoftech.edu

From: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

2:45 p.m. Dec. 6

re: this summer

No "I love you" mushiness during the school year, Rick! (I love you, too. Now we're even.)

I'd already scoped out CTK as a possibility when you mentioned you might need to stay in CO this summer. The Regional Culinary Institute will accept academic credits from CTK.

Submitted my application this morning.

How was your exam?

Can't wait to see you during Christmas break!

Your favorite person who feels the same about you,

D.

To: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

From: RMax@counivoftech.edu

9:00 p.m. Dec. 6

re: re: this summer

It's a fact year-round, Boss Dan.

Totally psyched that you applied to CTK.

And I've crushed all of my exams so far.

My flight arrives at Dulles early on 12/14.

Ride with Mel to come get me if you can. My sister wants to get to know you better, away from our parents.

Those three words,

Rick

To: RMax@counivoftech.edu

From: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

7:08 a.m. Dec. 7

re: re: re: this summer

So stubborn, Rick!

I'm not back in Darlingfield until 12/15:-(.

Maybe the three of us can do a tourist day in Old Town Alexandria for some last-minute gift shopping and lunch.

Your best friend,

Danya

To: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

From: Rmax@counivoftech.edu

4:10 p.m. Dec. 7

re: re: re: re: this summer

You know we're more than best friends, Dan.

~~~~~

Colorado in June was spectacular in its natural beauty. During the ride from the airport in Rick's used-but-much-newer-than-his-old-one truck still at his parents' house in Virginia to his apartment, the roadside scenery beyond Rick's profile kept drawing her attention. Her fascination with the noticeable changes in his face and body since January ultimately exerted a stronger pull.

Her hand gently squeezed around his hand on the gear shift.

"Are you taller now than you were at Christmas break, Rick?"

His lips quirked into a brief shadow of amusement when he glanced to the side before returning his full focus to the roadway. "Yeah, almost an inch. My doc says he thinks I'm done growing now."

They talked about their summer schedules: Monday through Friday at the Colorado Teaching Kitchen for Danya, and roughing it at Gunnison for Rick. Couple's fun time Friday night through late Sunday afternoon.

Rick had already notified building management and his closest neighbors that his girlfriend was moving in with him for the summer.

"I've got your set of keys and a swipe card for the main entrance, the gym, and the pool. Our bikes are on the balcony."

Danya said, "It's only fair for me to pay half of the utilities, Rick, especially since you refuse to accept any rent money from me. And won't let me pay you for the bike you bought for me to use while I'm here."

After several moments of loaded silence that made her think he wasn't going to respond, Rick quietly said, "I invited you to stay with me because being with you makes me very happy, Dan. If you want to keep us fed this summer I'll accept that. Make me your kitchen assistant. You taught me how to cook, but it's still my least favorite household duty to do by myself.

"The bike was a good deal from a girl who couldn't fit it in or on her car when she moved out last week."

"Fine," she said.

"Good. We're here," he said.

~~~~~

Danya only half-listened to Rick's words about the history of his two-story apartment complex because its curb appeal totally charmed her in every way. All of the parking slots were under a ruffled metal canopy that skirted three sides of the perimeter of the building.

"Repurposed from a car dealership that went out of business," Rick said when he followed the trajectory of her gaze.

A two-story-high portico constructed of horizontally stacked logs supported by columns of river rocks cemented together led to the main entrance where Rick swiped his key card to unlock the extremely wide glass and metal door.

"Always make sure this door locks behind you, Danya. No matter how convincing a person's excuse sounds, they should have their own swipe card or be able to call a resident to buzz them in."

She nodded without looking away from the spacious reception area that led to two elevators. On the ride up to the second floor Rick used their linked hands to reel Danya in for a soft kiss.

He smiled against her lips.

"Thank you for coming to Colorado to be with me this summer, Danya."

She rocked up onto the tips of her toes to kiss him again. "Thank you for inviting me, Rick."

A ding and the opening elevator doors revealed a wide corridor with polished cement floors that hooked left toward the dozen units and access to the staircase on the second level.

They stopped in front of an ornately decorated metal door painted brick red with hammered metal numbers 2-7 hanging beneath the peephole.

Rick said, "Welcome to my place, Danya. You can be honest about how you like it," as he opened the door, then stepped aside to let her enter first while he rolled in her luggage with her backpack hooked around the telescoping handle.

Danya set her woven straw tote bag on the floor while she scanned the light filled interior of the tidy one-bedroom apartment. The double glass doors leading to the balcony framed a view of a field of wildflowers with mountains in the background. The entryway opened up to a living area sparsely filled with one massive leather recliner, a sizable sofa upholstered in a nubby tweed fabric, a huge steamer trunk as an ottoman or coffee table, and an upside down barrel as a small table between the recliner and the sofa. All of it was arranged atop a beautifully woven rug and oriented toward the large television mounted on the wall.

Rick's laptop, stacks of books and papers covering the breakfast bar with two nicely appointed high-backed stools indicated that area as Rick's make-shift office. The generous dimensions of the updated kitchen filled with the highest grade of residential appliances surprised her.

When she looked back over her shoulder at Rick, he said, "The kitchen sold me on renting in this complex. I thought you'd enjoy experimenting with your recipe ideas in this type of home kitchen." A little redness flushed into his face as they watched each other.

Danya turned, slowly walking toward Rick, and not stopping until less than the length of her arm separated them, forcing her to tilt her head to maintain eye contact.

"You make it impossible for me not to love you more each day, Rick."

~~~~~

Rick slid his hands around Danya's waist to lift her into his kiss because he couldn't find the words to express how happy having Danya in his arms and in his space made him feel. Her soft mouth, her lush body, her welcoming embrace all tempted him to consume, to take, to claim.

Without breaking their ravenous kiss, Rick slid his hands down her waist to palm her ass and squeeze, guiding her legs to straddle one of his thighs. The damp heat of her desire scorched his senses through the layers of fabric of her short skirt and underwear, and his cotton cargo shorts. He pressed down with his hands and up with his thigh while she worked her hips into a grind to increase the friction. Occasionally, one of her thighs brushed his hard-on, making him grunt as she panted between desperate, suckling kisses against his mouth and chin. Her arms anchored her to his shoulders for more leverage to work her crotch against his thigh with frenzied intent until she stiffened and gave a high-pitched cry. She tucked her face against his neck. She was shaking from receding orgasm and aftershocks while he carried her down the short hall to the bedroom. The pair of windows on one wall showed the same view as seen from the living area, and offered a similar profusion of natural light as he laid Danya in the center of his king-sized bed with her hips at the edge of the mattress and her feet dangling toward the floor.

Rick pressed his palms against her inner thighs, then spread her legs to make room for him to kneel between her knees.

~~~~~

Danya felt boneless and stiff at the same time; satisfied and needy, too. Cool air from the air-conditioned room chilled her skin while Rick's touch fired her senses. His strong hands pressed her thighs wide enough to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders.

"I've missed the scent of your puss when it's juicy and plump and preparing to take me in, Danya."

She felt his breath against the soaked crotch of her panties before his open mouth suckled her labia and clitoris through the cotton panel, his tongue poking at the entrance to her vagina, which pulled the fabric taut, dragging it over her mons and clit.

Danya arched her back and cried out, fighting to move against Rick's implacable hold on her thighs. When he started nibbling between her legs with his teeth, she cupped his closely cropped hair in her clutching fingers to keep from spinning out of control.

It didn't work.

Damp cotton manipulated by his agile tongue stropped her stimulated nerve endings in her mons, her clitoris, and seemingly every fold of flesh between her spread legs. The fullness expanded, making her feel strung out on a taut bubble ready to burst.

She popped, screaming incoherently as release gushed between her legs where Rick continued to work her with his mouth.

~~~~~

Rick gradually eased the intensity, stopping only after Danya's hands dropped away from his hand and her body collapsed against the mattress.

He stood, then leaned down to scoop her up so he could pull back the comforter before laying her out on the bed again. He looked down at her, reveling in her physical appeal from thick natural locks framing her beloved face, the elegant curve of her jaw into her neck and shoulders. And her lovely breasts rising and falling in time to her panting breaths filling her lungs, expanding and contracting her rib cage. Her pushed up skirt hid her waist and hips while it revealed her plain white cotton underwear soaked in the musky essence of her sexual satisfaction and readiness to take him into her body.

Trial and error had taught them that at least two preliminary orgasms made penetration easier and more pleasurable for Danya when they first resumed their sexual relationship each summer. He was happy to oblige even though it left him feeling frantic to pile drive into her. Like he wanted to do right now.

"Danya."

~~~~~

Danya's eyelids felt too heavy to lift, but she managed to open her eyes when she felt the bed shift with the addition of Rick's full weight.

"Tell me what you want," he said while using two fingers to rub the soaked crotch of her panties up to her clitoris and down the folds of her labia to the cleft of her butt.

She raised her hands to clutch at his arms while she writhed at the mercy of his relentless manual stimulation. She moaned.

"I want you, Rick. On top of me. Inside me. Now."

His fingers kept working her with one hand. His other hand reached into a pocket on his cargo shorts and withdrew a condom. He offered it to her.

"Can you put it on me?"

Concentration was a challenge while her body kept tightening, but after many breathless starts and stops she eventually got him unbuttoned, unzipped, free, and covered. They both sighed, then Rick increased the pressure and the pace of his strokes between her legs until she came again, silently this time.

Shaking, Danya watched Rick strip out of his t-shirt before he stripped her out of her t-shirt and, after his eyes flared with lingering appreciation, her lacy purple bra. He slowly removed her panties without aggravating her sensitized flesh.

She was left wearing her skirt rucked up at her waist and flat thong sandals with thin heel straps. He was stripped down to unfastened cargo shorts and shoved down underwear framing his erection. His socks and hiking boots were still on his feet.

"I can't wait any longer, Danya."

She shook her head as they stared into each other's eyes. "Don't wait, Rick. I'm ready for you."

"Good," he said, palming the underside of her thighs to lift her legs until her knees were almost in her armpits.

Rick settled into place between her spread legs. One at a time he placed her hands around her knees to hold herself open, which freed up his hands to spread her plump folds and guide himself into the tight clasp of her body.

Each forward thrust pushed a gasping breath from her throat as her flesh slowly yielded to the thick length of him stretching and filling her body.

When his balls nestled against her butt, Rick looked down into her eyes while he caught one of her hands in each of his, lacing their fingers and pressing their hands together palm to palm into the mattress beside her head.

He groaned as he rocked his body forward and back.

"I love the way you trust me, Danya." His deep voice dropped even lower. "I love the way you accept all that I am." He angled his hips to push a little deeper, making her cry out from the overwhelming fullness.

"I love you, Danya," he said, then grunted as he drew back and nudged forward, using small movements to make her feel bound and possessed by their physical, emotional, and spiritual connection.

She set her thighs against his waist and crossed her ankles to hold on as he rocked into her faster and faster, grunting louder and deeper with his efforts.

She came again, all of her muscles clamped down hard, which triggered Rick's orgasm. He shoved into her with enough force to make her cry out in surprise more than discomfort before he collapsed and flattened her into the mattress.

Some long time later, once they were both breathing normally instead of gasping for air, he pushed up into a low plank to smile down into her eyes.

"Welcome to Colorado."

~~~~~

Week after week Danya and Rick worked long, grueling hours in pursuit of their professional goals. Most Friday nights they barely managed passionate kisses hello before eating a hastily prepared late dinner, then falling into bed to sleep. Reunion sex was usually delayed until Saturday morning. Household chores and grocery shopping in the afternoon; a hike or a ride with Rick's friends after that and sometimes a midnight movie.

They'd made it to the nearest non-denominational church about every third Sunday because that was their designated day to savor being together. They usually ate breakfast in bed while taking turns reading different sections of the newspaper. Maybe snuggle on the sofa while finishing assignments due for their jobs before Rick packed up his duffle to leave for Gunnison by four.

Their schedule was a grind that they both agreed was worth their efforts.

One Saturday afternoon in mid-August as they strolled hand-in-hand along an easy mountain trail behind Rick's apartment, Danya said, "I've already booked a seat on the airport shuttle bus, Rick. It'll get me there early enough to compose myself for the flight home."

She skipped ahead two fast steps to get in front of him, knowing he wouldn't trample her. When he stopped he stared hard down into her face before he sighed and pulled her into his embrace for a hug that squeezed them together from chest to thighs.

"I'll see you in Darlingfield in two weeks, Chef Dan, for our annual summer's end treehouse camp rendezvous with your friends." His angry muttering contradicted the tenderness of his embrace as they swayed together surrounded by the lush mountain vegetation.

~~~~~

To: RMax@counivoftech.edu

From: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

10:17 p.m. Nov. 1

Subject: This summer after we graduate

Dear Rick,

I love you. (Yes, this time I'm breaking the rules first!)

During our last night at the treehouse in August you asked me to come live with you after we graduate next year in May. I want to, and I can't.

Both of my parents were recently diagnosed with hypertensive disorder. Warwick and Monica are moving back to Darlingfield to take care of our parents and run Full Bake until I graduate.

My family has given me everything. They've always supported me in every possible way. My parents need me to run Full Bake sooner than the gradual five-year transition we'd planned.

Darlingfield isn't where you want to be, Rick.

I love you enough to let you go.

Danya

To: Chef2bDanya@vastateinstitute.edu

From: RMax@counivoftech.edu

5:39 a.m. Nov. 2

re: This summer after we graduate

Dear Danya,

I'm so sorry that your parents aren't well. I hope there's effective medical treatment to get them healthy again.

Try not to worry yourself sick.

Of course you're going to stay in Darlingfield to do what your family needs from you. The way you love your family is just one of the many reasons I love you, Danya.

Rick

I'll be home for Christmas, but not Thanksgiving.

To: RMax@counivoftech.edu

From: ChefDanya@FullBakeFamily.com

12:21 p.m. April 27

Subject: Freedom!!!

Just turned in the last assignment for my college undergrad degree, Rick!!!!!

Thank you for letting me win our argument about not attending each other's graduation ceremonies. Now that you're going to start your career with the U.S. Forest Service in Alaska your family will want to have you all to themselves until you leave in July.

Are you sure you'll be allowed to take off Labor Day weekend to meet me at the treehouse camp? New hires are usually on probation for at least their first 90 days.

Those three words,

D.

To: ChefDanya@FullBakeFamily.com

From: RMax@counivoftech.edu

8:59 a.m. April 28

re: Freedom!!!

I'm free, too, Dan.

In Darlingfield May 29 - July 7. My job starts July 10. Those summers at Shenandoah and Gunnison earned me seniority over actual new hires. Plus, I requested off for this Labor Day weekend before I signed the employment contract.

Let's make our last goodbye unforgettable.

I love you, Danya.

Rick

~~~~~

Gates of the Arctic National Park and Preserve postcard from Alaska:

October 11

Cold that sears the skin and slices through every breath no matter how deep or shallow. The beauty of this stark, unforgiving landscape seems infinite.

~~~~~

Dear Rick,

Are you safe and healthy?

Alaska looks too gorgeous to be real!

My family just got the very best news from my parents' doctors: They're both healthy! Their hypertensive disorders aren't cured, but their changes in diet, exercise, taking their meds, and lowering their stress (by scaling way back to each of them working only two days per week) have put all of their medical testing results in the healthy range. A big turnaround since their diagnoses last year.

Warwick went back to teaching full-time and Monica took a protection assignment for a client who's touring overseas.

I've finally moved into my grandmama's house after the renter's lease expired and my parents no longer need me in-house to remind/nag them about maintaining their healthy lifestyle changes.

Sometimes I play the sickly youngest offspring guilt card by saying that taking care of both of them while running Full Bake could negatively impact my health. And voila! No more complaints about their low sodium, low sugar, less saturated fat eating restrictions. (Yes, I'm shameless! Whatever it takes to keep my parents healthy and alive:-.) If they stick with these lifestyle changes, they should both get medically cleared to return to working full-time before the Christmas craziness starts.

Your mom comes into Full Bake at least once a week. (Please call her more often. She seems worried about you.) And Melissa always squeezes in a chatty girls' lunch when she's home from college. Do you like this Steven guy your sister is dating? She blushes and giggles like a loon whenever she talks about him.

Watch out for nature's surprises,

D.

P.S. Will write again after the insanity of the Halloween festival is over.

~~~~~

To: ChefDanya@FullBakeFamily.com

From: USFSrangerFMaxwell@usfs.fed.gov

4:18 a.m. Dec. 2

Subject: ICE

Dear Danya,

That's great news about your parents.

If you ever need to contact me ASAP e-mail me at this address with "Family 911" in the subject line. Otherwise, snail mail to my p.o. box is the best way to correspond with me.

I won't make it to Darlingfield for Thanksgiving or Christmas this year.

Please find out more about this Steven guy. Mel told me they were just friends.

We both know what that probably means.

R.

Happy New Year, Rick!

Did you return to civilization to celebrate? Or dog sled across the tundra?

It was the usual First Night Family Fun pandemonium here in D'field. Full Bake is closed until the fifth so we can all recover from the hectic Christmas catering season, which also closed out our most profitable year ever!

Saw you parents after the fireworks display. They told me that you've gotten better about calling them at least once every two weeks. Melissa and I are having lunch next week before she heads back to college. You probably already know that Steven came to see her the day after Christmas.

My parents almost stroked out when I proposed changing the name of the Fullerton Bakery and its logo and branding gradually over the next five years. A couple days later they agreed to study my idea pitch materials and marketing research. So...

It seemed fair to tell you I'm going to start dating this month. Missing you is still hard, but your absence no longer feels like a dagger plunged into my gut, then jerked up to destroy my heart. (And that was the nicest way too describe how it's felt during the past four months.)

Please keep yourself healthy and safe,

D.

P.S. Practice not brooding for at least an hour every day. Sleeping does NOT count!

~~~~~

During the second week of February, Rick paused to absorb the visceral blow of reading about Danya's intentions to start dating, which meant that she'd already been dating for a month. It took him more than a moment to accept the pain of knowing that time and their obligations and their professional ambitions were widening the gap between their diverging paths.

Rick screamed every profane word he knew in multiple languages, then laughed out loud when he read Danya's post script. And if his mirth abruptly trailed off into gasping breaths with his eyes cinched as tightly closed as his fists, only the dormant flora and some musk ox also abiding in the subzero temperatures were witnesses. The beasts didn't charge Rick as a potential threat. They seemed to recognize his primal cries as expressions of grief from a wounded soul.

He was scheduled to rendezvous with Morgan and the five other first-year I-Rangers at Anaktuvuk Pass in two days. He'd get his head and his heart sorted out well enough to function by then.

~~~~~

Postcard from Gates of the Arctic National Park and Preserve:

February 20

Caribou does not taste like chicken. The young woman who offered the sample laughed at the faces I made while chewing my first bite. Maybe Alaska has more to offer than just professional opportunities.

~~~~~

With a melancholy sigh, Danya tossed the oversized postcard onto her desk tucked into the corner of her kitchen still filled with speckled Formica counters edged in chrome. Improved wiring and new appliances were the only updates she'd decided were worth the splurge when she moved into her deceased grandmama's home.

It was a healthy thing that both she and Rick were moving forward in their professional and private lives. It was. It really was.

She'd keep telling that to herself until it felt true.

7 Years After College Graduation...

Danya felt the weight of someone's focus on her and stopped arranging oatmeal raisin cookies in the display case with Culinary Crossroads stenciled across the bottom. When she stood up from her crouched stance, Danya saw one of her regular customers staring at her with a mischievous smile beneath her dark brown eyes magnified behind her 1970s-era retro eyeglasses.

After a quick exchange of greetings, Danya said, "What would you like today, Mrs. Boyton? Your usual herb scones, or may I tempt you into trying something else?"

The 90-plus-year-old woman shook her head. "Nothing today, darling. The great grands are at my house cooking and baking enough to feed everyone in the county."

She leaned closer to Danya over the glass top of the display case. "During my morning walk I saw a big moving truck in front of the Maxwell's house. Janie was out in the yard. She told me that their boy, Frederick, bought their house. They're flying to Arizona day after tomorrow to stay with their daughter and her family until their belongings arrive at their new home next week."

Danya smiled and nodded as she listened to a condensed version of what Melissa Maxwell-Lineberger had shared with her months ago in a lengthy e-mail. Hearing Mrs. Boyton's summary generated nearly the same fluttery sense of anticipation Danya had felt when she'd read Mel's e-mail.

"...Wasn't the Maxwell boy sweet on you, darling?" brought Danya's attention back to the present.

Resigned to the likelihood that Mrs. Boyton would spread the news to the members of her family, her pinochle club, and her 3-on-3 senior half-court basketball league at the Y before sundown, Danya said, "Yes, he was."

During the past few years Danya's letters to Rick had transitioned from monthly to seasonal, although his unsigned postcards to her kept coming about once a month.

His most recent one was from Gunnison:

Many years and miles have brought me back to my beginning. I'm coming home. To stay.

Where Rick's correspondence style was succinct, Melissa's was expansive in its rambling details about her and her brother's lives. Those details amused Danya when they were about Mel's precocious kids. Any mention of Rick generated curiosity, then a small heart sting whenever there was a new woman in his life.

To Danya, Rick's last postcard sounded like a declaration of intent. She had some intentions of her own.

Miscellaneous Tidbits

Central Characters in Dodging Eros

•Danya Fullerton

•Frederick "Rick" Maxwell

•Monica Fullerton

•Benjamin Plaff

•Vanessa Constantino

•Adelia Constantino

•Warwick Fullerton

•Laine Descartes

•Tatiana Descartes

•Robbie Descartes

Character Sketches

Danya Fullerton

•Key personality traits: self-confident, generous, assertive, optimistic

•Sibling birth order: third of three

•Favorite music: classical

•Favorite food splurge: any delicious chocolate treat

•Hobbies: reading, experimenting with recipes, meditation, fishing

•Fitness routine: walking, swimming laps 2 or 3 times per week, yoga, occasional bike ride or mountain hike

•Favorite vacation destination: anyplace sunny, warm and politically stable

Frederick "Rick" Maxwell

•Key personality traits: self-confident, thoughtful, stoic, skeptical

•Sibling birth order: first of two

•Favorite music: live modern country rock

•Favorite food splurge: any dessert baked by Danya, especially if it's tart enough to make a person's eyes water and lips pucker

•Hobbies: hunting, archery, meditation, skateboarding, fishing

•Fitness routine: intense daily physical endurance cross-training, mountain biking and hiking, skiing

•Favorite vacation destination: anyplace with fresh powder from Mother Nature

Monica Fullerton

•Key personality traits: self-confident, ambitious, reserved, methodical

•Sibling birth order: second of three

•Favorite music: Broadway show tunes

•Favorite food splurge: deep=fried cauliflower with spicy remoulade dipping sauce

•Hobbies: martial arts, target practice, reading

•Fitness routine: running

•Favorite vacation destination: anyplace with a spa tub and room service

Benjamin Plaff

•Key personality traits: self-confident, tenacious, inquisitive, discerning

•Sibling birth order: unknown due to his being abandoned as a very young child

•Favorite music: old-school country

•Favorite food splurge: rack of lamb

•Hobbies: military history research, martial arts, target practice, off-road ATV racing

•Fitness routine: training for marathons and weightlifting

•Favorite vacation destination: anyplace without Internet service or cell phone reception

Vanessa Constantino

•Key personality traits: brave, responsible, intuitive, pensive

•Sibling birth order: first of two

•Favorite music: Andres123

•Favorite food splurge: sugared cereal for breakfast

•Hobbies: kite flying, boogie boarding, reading, playing card games, piano

•Fitness routine: being an active kid from a privileged family

•Favorite vacation destination: at home when her papa doesn't have to concentrate on work

Adelia Constantino

•Key personality traits: shy, reticent, energetic, adventurous

•Sibling birth order: second of two

•Favorite music: soundtracks from animated movies for kids

•Favorite food splurge: breakfast for dinner

•Hobbies: learning to read and to tell time, kite flying, piano

•Fitness routine: chasing and being chased by her older sister, swimming

•Favorite vacation destination: home with her mama, papa and older sister

Warwick Fullerton

•Key personality traits: self-confident, protective, erudite, focused

•Sibling birth order: first of three

•Favorite music: jazz

•Favorite food splurge: filet mignon

•Hobbies: bodybuilding, reading, watching documentaries about precursors to war and the aftermath of war at the local level of communities

•Fitness routine: weightlifting, biking

•Favorite vacation destination: an isolated cabin in the mountains

Laine Descartes

•Key personality traits: self-confident, persistent, proactive, pragmatic

•Sibling birth order: second of two

•Favorite music: popular adult contemporary

•Favorite food splurge: any edible meal she didn't cook

•Hobbies: brain teaser puzzles, visiting libraries

•Fitness routine: yoga, shadowboxing, keeping up with two active young kids

•Favorite vacation destination: a place of worry-free safety

Tatiana Descartes

•Key personality traits: brave, trusting, curious, enthusiastic

•Sibling birth order: first of two

•Favorite music: everything by The Wiggles

•Favorite food splurge: chocolate chip cookies

•Hobbies: learning to count, to say the ABCs and to tie shoelaces

•Fitness routine: playing at the playground

•Favorite vacation destination: anyplace where her mommy smiles with her whole face and doesn't act worried

Robbie Descartes

•Key personality traits: demanding, mercurial, curious, vocal

•Sibling birth order: second of two

•Favorite music: lullabies

•Favorite food splurge: homemade apple sauce

•Hobbies: gurgling, figuring out how to crawl, nibbling his fingers and toes

•Fitness routine: See hobbies.

•Favorite vacation destination: anywhere with his mommy and big sister

My World Top Ten for Dodging Eros by Cardyn Brooks

Top Ten ~~ Top Ten Fave Lines from _Dodging Eros_

1.Each breath tasted of vice and smelled of sultry sin.

2.He would make a donation to the nearest women's shelter as a gesture of gratitude to the gods for their mercy.

3.Chief Maxwell stalked up to her, leaned down until they were nose to nose, then stared into her eyes with the menacing squint he used to intimidate foolhardy probationary firefighters.

4."Explain before my head explodes," Rick said as he waved Owen toward a chair.

5."Am I the only one who remembers that we're federal agents, not remedial cooking school students?" Agent Yoeh asked.

6.Ten years of tepid serial monogamy to offset his unfulfilled desire for one woman and he was going to miss his chance with her by a cruel forty-eight hours.

7.Luis Miguel refused to allow some pissant number-crunching drone to thwart his objectives with legalities.

8.Despite Rick's desires, the number of people indefinitely residing with him and Danya continued increasing.

9."... Soon, you and I are going somewhere private to get naked and stay naked for a very long time."

10.Mona wondered if she was being punished for years of uncharitable thoughts about Black people who married non-Black people.

Fabulous and Fun Guest Post for _Dodging Eros_ by Cardyn Brooks

Character Development Easy or Daunting Task

Who? What? When? Where? How? Why?

For me, character development happens organically as the story unfolds. It's almost always the idea of a specific kind of person who is dealing with a particular set of circumstances that motivates me to begin a new project. Dodging Eros sprang from my thoughts about how modern women's access to higher education, professional success, birth control, and financial independence affects their options in romantic relationships now compared to previous generations.

Throwing in the variables of social class, ethnicity, and geographical location offered a wide variety of paths to explore. Once I'd decided on a beloved daughter who was the youngest of three siblings, Danya materialized along with her family, then the rest of the cast evolved from there. Fleshing out my characters based on their circumstances is an enjoyable challenge for me. Their backstories are usually developed backward from their present situations. Creating their histories leads to research online and in the public library. Those facts germinate in my brain for a few days before being incorporated into my imaginary world and refining my characters' physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual facets.

Writing at my own pace means there are no looming productivity deadlines beyond my personal mandate of writing five or six days each week, which keeps me from being overwhelmed by external timetables. That lack of outside pressure supports my artistic freedom.

Ultimately, character development falls midway between being easy and daunting for me due to my enjoyment of the task and my goal of making every member of the cast engaging for readers.

**Dante Eternal's Virtual Bookshelf Interview for** _Dodging Eros_ **by Cardyn Brooks**

Thank you for joining us today. I hope we haven't interrupted your busy schedule too much.

My pleasure. Thank you so much for inviting me to chat. There's always room in my schedule for fun stuff like this.

Can you tell us how you came to be an author? Has it been an easy or difficult journey?

My parents hooked me on reading at a very young age. They're artists who would use brown crayons and markers to make some of the characters in my books resemble my complexion. Their doing that showed me how to customize a story cast even though I couldn't verbalize that idea when I was a kid. Later, routinely having my expectation of being represented in a story unmet in mainstream fiction motivated me to write my own stories with casts of characters who resonated as familiar to me.

Because every aspect of writing is enjoyable to me, my journey to broader publication has been long rather than easy or difficult. It's been very challenging to push back against really narrow stereotypes about what's considered authentically black writing.

What motivates you as an author?

There isn't enough variety and volume of smart, fun fiction written by and about actual grown-ups, especially women who are self-confident and pursuing their intellectual, academic, creative and professional interests as primary objectives, not just consolation prizes until they become girlfriends, wives and mothers. They're also not anti-men by being pro-themselves.

There isn't enough mainstream contemporary fiction where the casts of characters reflect the current demographics of the U.S. and the world. All kinds of people occupy every level of society, but mainstream contemporary fiction is slow to portray that truth as the norm. Stereotypes shaped by the legacy of patriarchal colonial imperialism persist.

How do you deal with rejection and setbacks as an author?

Well, after some tears, swear words, and premium ice cream (and/or chocolate depending on how harsh the no was), I remind myself that every rejection brings me one step closer to an acceptance. The rejection is a gift that kept me from ending up with the wrong (for me) literary agent or publisher. And I keep chanting that thought in my head until I mostly believe it.

How do you deal with writer's block?

I think of writer's block as my brain's signal that I'm on the verge of a breakthrough. Rather than brood about not writing, I'll read some non-fiction related to my story or exercise or do chores or run errands. The blockage usually dissolves within a few hours. If it doesn't, I skip forward to write what's flowing for me later in the story, which often shakes loose a solution for the blockage.

Do you have any motivational books or websites which you find useful from time to time?

I'm a compulsive writer who often looks at a glass as one-tenth full so motivational content isn't really my thing.

Who has been the biggest influence upon your writing?

My parents and my family have completely shaped the way I write about what it means to love and to be loved.

Tell us about a typical day for you. Do you have any special routines which you strictly keep to?

On weekdays: Up around 8am. Exercise for 20—60mins, depending on my mood and schedule. Eat breakfast. Shower. Dress. Head to the library to work for 2—4hrs, or data entry at home if I'm transcribing my handwritten first draft of a project. Lunch. Errands. Chores. Start dinner. Family time. Write for 2—4hrs until bedtime.

Weekends are a grab bag depending on an assortment of variables linked to family and friends, but I usually get in a few hours of writing on Saturday and/or Sunday.

How have family and friends reacted to you as an author? Are they supportive?

My family is unshakable in their support for me as an author. They understand my mission to expand mainstream contemporary fiction to include diversity as a given.

Do you have a muse? If so, please could you tell us a little about him/her?

No muse for me.

What have been your biggest projects so far this year?

_Launching_ Dodging Eros _and refining my upcoming series about powerful women in love are my two biggest publishing projects, while also developing my swim cap for very thick, long hair for the retail consumer market._

Going forwards as an author, what do you realistically hope to accomplish?

Expanding the conversation started by MissRepresentation and #WeNeedDiverseBooks about the overdue need for inclusion of all kinds of people as multi-faceted human beings in the casts of characters in mainstream contemporary entertainment media is my intention.

**Between the Pages Top Ten for** _Dodging Eros_ **by Cardyn Brooks**

Top Ten ~~ Bucket List for 2016

1.Expand the conversation started by MissRepresentation and #WeNeedDiverseBooks to make connections between the importance of inclusiveness in all entertainment media and a healthy society.

2.Focus on good (consensual activities between free, legal, cognitively unimpaired, safe adults) sex as satisfying for everyone involved.

3.Discuss the ways in which contemporary mainstream fiction set in the present day 21st c. feels outdated.

4.Discuss the gilded cage of privileged Anglo/Caucasian/white womanhood and the persistence of higher expectations of sexual virtue for women more than for men.

5.Discuss category segregation in publishing,

6.Discuss the messages cover art sends about the target audience for a book.

7.Discuss differences between romance fiction written by authors who are married with children and ones who are single without children.

8.Discuss the explosive growth of the teen, young adult and new adult fiction markets and its impact on adult fiction.

9.What makes a romance or erotic novel mainstream?

10.Discuss the differences between erotic romance and erotica.

**Schadoh's Ramblings & Other Chaotic Mess Playlist for** _Dodging Eros_ **by Cardyn Brooks**

PlayList ~ Many Authors have a Playlist while writing did you? If so can you share links to the songs on iTunes or YouTube Videos.

While sketching out the cast of characters, setting, thematic threads and story progression, no music--just the sound of my breathing and the scratch of my mechanical pencil across college-ruled notebook paper is my preferred soundtrack for writing the double-spaced first draft.

Background accompaniment of my neighbor's attack cat's aggressive screech as she ("jungle kitty" in my mind) mixes it up with some adversary in the tall grass at the far edge of our fenceless back yards, the high-pitched laughs and screams of my other neighbors' kids as they run the block; lawnmowers, hedge trimmers, wind, rain, snow against the window panes, icicles cracking loose and falling, the cycling of the heat or the A/C are the sounds of everyday life that allow me to focus on the story.

It's the same with entering the first typed draft, subsequent rewrites, rounds of proofing and edits: no music, just the tap of the keyboard and the turning of the pages of my rough draft and reference materials. Ambient silence lets me hear the tone and the rhythm and the pacing of my characters' voices and stories.

About Cardyn Brooks

Cardyn Brooks started life as a listener of stories who became a reading fiend, who turned into a compulsive writer, chocoholic, travel geek, inventor, swim enthusiast, and fan of exercises that work well in bare feet. As an author her goal is to expand the variety and volume of upbeat, diversity-is-mainstream contemporary fiction written for and about grown-ups in love.

She writes as Cardyn Brooks for PrivateMomentsPublishing.com and as C. X Brooks for BlackOpalBooks.com.

Her first book, _Seducing the Burks: Five Erotic Tales_ by Cardyn Brooks, was a 2004 IPPY Awards finalist in the category of erotica/sexuality. It received 4.8 of 5 stars from JustEroticRomanceReviews.com (now archived).

_More Than Enough_ by C. X Brooks is her 2012 novella available at Smashwords.com.

Find Cardyn Brooks on Amazon, Facebook, Goodreads, SheWrites, Smashwords, Tumblr, and on her blogs, BlerdyBingeReader.blogspot.com and Chocomots.blogspot.com.

Please post a review at your favorite book site. Eligible reviewers who are at least 18 years old will automatically get entered into the Grown-Ups Getaway Giveaway. Details are on the Cardyn Brooks Facebook page. No purchase necessary. Void where prohibited.

_When She's on Top_ by C. X Brooks is scheduled for release in 2018.

The LuxeLinks Club

No gold diggers, No fortune hunters.

Perception. Reputation. Powerful women are still held to a higher standard when it comes to sexual escapades. Being duped by romantic intimacy has the potential to undercut a powerful woman's professional credibility, making it risky business for her to be unlucky in love.

For some people, the mark of Eve makes women easy targets.

That's where the Hirsch sisters improve the odds with their companion compatibility service. Introducing philanthropic heiresses and female executives to honorable, educated, hard-working men and women willing to act as sophisticated arm candy to supplement their wages becomes a shared passion project for the three sisters when their mother kills herself after being scammed out of most of her liquid assets and then abandoned for another woman by their father.

_When She's on Top_ is a collection of four erotic stories about powerful women in love.

"This Mark Changes the Game"

"This Mark Evens the Odds"

"This Mark Leaps Into the Abyss"

"This Mark Flips the Script"

