Chapter 22

When I woke up the next morning, I started thinking about Felicia. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that having sex with her had been a Bad Idea. She was incredibly sexy, but I didn’t need Kendall’s insight to realize how vulnerable she was, not to mention how starved for love and affection.

Unfortunately, I genuinely liked her. I guess she appealed to my protective nature. Worse, I was definitely attracted to her. Just thinking about her made my morning hard-on demand some attention.

I knew the difference between love and lust, of course, and I didn’t love Felicia. Besides, I had more than my fair share of beautiful women in my life, so I spent a moment or two wondering why I lusted after her. She was beautiful, but her beauty came with a number of problems that I wasn’t the answer to. But her body...

At the very thought of her body—her breasts, her ass, her lips—I wanted to see her again. I silently admitted that I wanted to fuck her again, too. As I began stroking my erection, however, I forced myself to think of someone else.

At first, I pictured Kendall, on her back, her smooth pussy spread before me. Then I imagined Gina sucking me, making love to my cock. I went through several scenes in my head, both remembered and imagined, but I kept returning to Felicia.

In my fantasy, the sexy blonde was begging me to fuck her, to come inside her. I pictured the way her perfect breasts flattened against her chest when she lay back. I imagined how they bounced when I fucked her. I imagined her nipples, pink and hard, yearning to be sucked. While scenes of Felicia romped through my overactive imagination, I stroked myself, my hand a blur.

When I came, I spurted so hard that my semen overshot the wad of Kleenex and splattered on my chest. I quickly adjusted and managed to capture the remaining spurts, but as I lay there panting from the force of my ejaculation, I felt more guilty than ever.

I had to do something to get Felicia out of my head!

I spent most of the morning working on Susan’s Christmas present. Fortunately, my project involved more than enough concentration to ward off daydreams of Felicia and her luscious body.

Before lunch, Dad asked if I wanted to fly to South Carolina to pick up Susan (she was spending the night with us and then flying to Texas the next day).

I showed Dad what I was doing, so he understood why I declined the flight time. Then he looked at my work and gave a whistle of approval.

“I didn’t realize you were so good, son,” he said.

I felt my face heating.

“I’m serious. That’s really good. Is that from a picture?”

“Not a real one,” I said.

He furrowed his brow.

“I’ve got pictures in here,” I said, tapping my temple. “If I’ve seen it, I remember it.”

To my surprise, he laughed. “I’d love to see a slideshow of those memory pictures sometime,” he said, still chuckling. “But I don’t think I could handle that much excitement!” Laughing at his own humor, he grabbed his sunglasses and ball cap.

When I finished the drawing, I held it at arm’s length and studied it. I’ve always been surprised by how much detail I can recall, and Susan’s drawing was no different. In my head, I simply saw the overall image. When I had time to study the drawing itself, hundreds of little things combined to make it seem “right.”

As I looked at my work with a critical eye, I fixed several things, and added a detail or two. Finally, I signed my name in the corner and added the date.

Mom helped me hunt down a cardboard tube and pointed me at the wrapping paper. I still had about a dozen other presents to wrap, so I spent two hours hunched over the coffee table in the living room.

Wrapping presents is an acquired skill—and I hadn’t acquired it—but I did a decent job, so I didn’t think anyone would complain.

Later, Elizabeth called to tell me that she and Leah were coming by to pick me up; we were going to meet Gina’s plane.

At the airport, we hung around the gate until the plane taxied in. Gina and her sorority sisters emerged somewhere in the middle of the stream of passengers. They were laughing and happy, but Gina’s face still lit up when she saw me waiting for her.

She said goodbye to her friends—most of whom had a layover before taking a flight to Knoxville—and we headed down to baggage claim. Leah and Elizabeth went to fetch the station wagon, while Gina and I waited for her bags.

“Did you have fun?” I asked her.

“God, yes,” she said. “I’m sore, I don’t want to see any booze for the next month, and I need a good night’s sleep, but yeah, we had a great time.”

“Good,” I said, putting my arm around her.

She practically sagged against me, exhausted. We stood in companionable silence until the baggage carousel clattered to life. Then I hefted her bags off the conveyor and carried them outside to the waiting station wagon.

On the drive back to the Coulters’ house, Gina leaned against me and dozed. I was more than happy to let her, too. I felt guilty about having sex with Felicia, and I guess I didn’t want to have a conversation where I had to worry about revealing too much.

I didn’t think Gina would be upset about the blonde salesgirl, but she had been more possessive lately. That was probably a reaction to Kendall, but I didn’t want to test that theory, especially if being wrong meant an argument (or worse).

So I simply held Gina close, enjoying the quiet companionship of the ride to her house.

After dumping her clothes in the hamper, Gina took a shower. She emerged refreshed, and smiled as she joined me on her bed.

“God,” she said, straddling my hips, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

As we kissed, she unwrapped the towel from her body, her nipples hardening. Then she broke the kiss and simply gazed at me. With a playful waggle of her eyebrows, she tugged the towel from around her head and ran her fingers through her damp black tresses.

“Do you want me to comb out your hair?” I asked.

“I want you to screw me silly,” she said. “You can’t imagine how horny I am.”

I grinned at her.

“But I guess we’ll have to wait. Susan and your family are coming over for dinner, right?”

I nodded.

“When are they supposed to be here?”

“About twenty minutes,” I said, looking at my watch. “But we’ve got time for a quick blowjob.”

“Mmmmm,” she purred. “Hot, fresh come,” she continued. “Going a week without isn’t easy, you know,” she added. She tried to look serious, but she just couldn’t pull it off. Then she wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered in my ear. Then, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I said, hugging her in reply.

“Now,” she said, pulling back with a grin, “I believe you mentioned a blowjob.”

“I believe I did,” I said as she slid to the floor between my legs. Then I began unbuttoning my pants. “Do you still want me to comb out your hair?”

“Later,” she play-snapped. “Right now, I want dick. Long, hard dick,” she said, eyeing my manhood as I fished it out of my pants, “full of hot, white, creamy goodness.”

“And it’s all yours,” I groaned as she swallowed half my length.

“Mmm hmm,” she agreed, her mouth too full to speak.

Normally, we waited until Christmas morning to open presents (“No exceptions, kids!”), but since Susan was leaving for Texas the next day, we exchanged gifts with her after dinner.

Her present from the Coulters was too big to wrap, so they wrapped a box containing the product brochure instead. (The present itself was teak patio furniture: a table and four chairs.)

“I know the brochure doesn’t do it justice,” Chris said, “but the display in the store looked fantastic. We thought you’d like it for the patio outside your bedroom.”

“We got it in Carmel, California,” Elizabeth added.

“The boxes are out in the garage,” Chris said, picking up the narrative, “and we thought we’d have them shipped to South Carolina.”

“It’s beautiful,” Susan said graciously. “Thank you very much.” After a bit more oohing and aahing, she set aside the brochure.

“We’re going to save our gift for last,” Mom said to Susan, who nodded.

With that, I presented my gift with a flourish.

After rewarding me with a smile, Susan unwrapped the tube and extracted my drawing. It was of her house, from three-quarter perspective. Her eyes flicked over the details, taking it all in: the jasmine growing up the courtyard wall, the wrought iron patio furniture visible within the courtyard itself, the pergola over her private patio, all of it. “Oh, my,” she said quietly. Finally, she glanced at my stylized “P.D. Hughes ‘81” signature in the lower right corner. “Did you draw this?” she asked, only half rhetorically.

I nodded, my face warming.

“Oh, Paul, it’s wonderful,” she said, almost reverently.

“I hope you like it,” I said.

“Like it? I love it. Thank you very much.”

Then she set the drawing aside and gave me a big hug.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Gina’s present to Susan was a silk scarf and matching blouse. Gina always had good taste in clothes, and Susan was very appreciative. Erin and Leah had pooled their money to buy Susan a set of leather-bound photo albums, along with the promise to help her organize her family photos.

With that, Susan brought out her own wrapped presents, which she distributed to all of us (Kara wouldn’t arrive until the next day, so we put her present under the Christmas tree).

Her gifts to our families were the same, and Chris almost choked when he unwrapped the largish box.

“A VHS?!” he said, his expression pained.

“What’s the matter?” Susan asked.

“Who recommended this? Don’t they know that the Betamax is much better technology? I mean, the Beta’s based on the three-quarter-inch U-matic, and it produces a much sharper image than—”

“He means ‘thank you very much,’” Elizabeth interrupted.

Susan smiled in amused tolerance.

Elizabeth elbowed her husband in the ribs.

“Um ... I mean, thank you very much,” Chris wryly parroted. Then he turned serious. “I mean it, though. We can put this in the guesthouse, so Leah and her friends can watch videotapes. We really do appreciate it.”

“Doug recommended the VHS,” Susan said, referring to her youngest son. “He told me you’d probably say that Beta was better, though,” she added, laughing. “He mentioned something about ‘proprietary technology being a death knell,’ but I think you two will have a lively discussion about it.”

“I’ll have to explain to him the benefits of Beta the next time I see him,” Chris said. “Anyway,” he continued, “we really do appreciate it.”

“So do we,” Mom said, indicating our own VHS box. “Thank you very much.”

With that, Susan gestured for Erin and Leah to open their gifts. Erin gasped and held up a pair of sapphire earrings. Leah was suitably impressed by her ivory cameo and black ribbon choker.

Next, Gina opened her first gift: a stethoscope. She thanked Susan and then opened the second box, which contained a stainless steel ladies Rolex watch.

“Thank you very much,” Gina said. “For everything,” she added.

“You’re very welcome,” Susan said. Then she turned to me. “Open the smallest present first,” she suggested.

When I opened the box, it took me a moment to figure out what I was looking at. Finally, I realized that it was a bronze disk keychain. For a moment, I studied the bas-relief picture carved on one side.

“Is that...?” I muttered, scrutinizing the disk. “Is that ... a tree branch?!”

Susan smiled mischievously and then nodded. “I thought you’d like to have it immortalized,” she said, referring to the branch that led to our first sexual encounter (after she accidentally clobbered my testicles with it, that is).

Mom and Elizabeth couldn’t stop laughing. Even Dad and Chris were smiling, although I think they understood my pain at the memory of having my balls unceremoniously assaulted.

Still chuckling, Susan smiled fondly. “I had my jeweler make it for you,” she said. “It’s one of a kind ... like you.”

I blushed.

Gina leaned over to kiss my cheek. “I think it’s cute,” she said.

My face felt like it was ready to catch fire, but at my mom’s insistence, I passed around the keychain so the others could see it. Everyone teased me good-naturedly, but I was still embarrassed. Finally, I moved on to my next gift, a large envelope. When I opened it and read the card inside, I gazed at it for a moment, stunned.

“What is it?” my sister asked.

“It’s flight time and lessons,” Susan said when I didn’t speak up.

“It’s fifty hours of flight time,” I said, still a little shocked.

“Your dad said you were thinking about getting your instrument rating,” she said. “Besides, this way, you don’t have to worry about being able to afford it if you want to fly somewhere.”

“Say, like South Carolina,” Chris quipped.

“Like South Carolina,” my dad agreed. “Just for example, of course.”

As my parents and Susan smiled among themselves, I shook my head in wonder. I should’ve known they were in cahoots. When I glanced at Gina, however, she also smiled knowingly.

“Did you know about this?” I asked her softly.

“Mmm hmm.”

I rolled my eyes at her.

“I thought we might like to fly to Susan’s once in a while,” she said. “You know, just to get away from it all.”

And to get away from Kendall, I mentally supplied. Aloud, I thanked Susan.

She explained that my parents had told her about the Flying Club at school, so she’d made arrangements with the local airport to bill her for my flight time and instructor expenses.

I nodded absently as I listened to her explanation. Still staring at the card, I felt everyone’s eyes on me. When I looked up, they were grinning.

“I think he likes it,” Chris teased.

“Be nice,” Elizabeth chided him.

“Thank you very much,” I said to Susan.

“I’ve got one more present for you,” she said, “but I’ll save it for later.”

Still in shock, I nodded.

“Now,” Mom said to Susan, jerking me out of my daze, “before you open your gift from us, I need to give you this.”

“A box of Kleenex?”

Mom suppressed a glimmer of a smile as she nodded. Then she glanced at me, my signal to fetch Susan’s gift. I hastily dropped my flight time card and headed for the Christmas tree. From behind it, I withdrew Susan’s present. It was a framed picture, sheathed in gift wrap; that much was obvious. Susan recognized it for what it was, but she still looked curious.

When she tore away the wrapping paper, however, she gasped and tears welled up. Then she smiled and covered her mouth. “Where did you find them all?” she asked my mom. The large frame was filled with pictures, almost twenty of them, arranged around a central picture.

“David took the big one,” Mom explained, indicating the blown-up photo in the center.

The picture was of Jack, standing next to his A-4 Skyhawk on the deck of an aircraft carrier. He was smiling and flashing a thumbs-up. He looked cheerful, cocky, and full of life.

“On their first cruise together,” Mom added.

“That was what,” Susan asked, “1966?”

Mom and Dad nodded together.

“Some of the pictures are from our photo albums, with a few that I filched from yours,” Mom said, “but most of them are from our trip down to Los Cabos.”

(I knew the story, but only vaguely. When my father and Jack had returned from cruise, Jack borrowed a friend’s sailboat. He and Susan had invited my parents to join them as they sailed down the Baja California coast to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.)

Still smiling, Susan wiped her eyes with a tissue. “That was such a fun trip,” she said.

Mom smiled in agreement, laying her hand on Dad’s knee. He covered it with his own.

“When I found the picture of Jack,” he added, “I thought about having it blown up for you. Beth suggested adding the rest of the pictures.”

Many of the other pictures were of Jack and Susan alone—tan, smiling, and happy—although there were some with my parents as well. A few showed them with their sons, Kirk and Doug.

“They’re wonderful,” Susan said, blinking back more tears. Then she smiled in feigned irritation and snatched two more tissues. “You know me so well,” she said to Mom as she dabbed her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” For a few moments, she gazed at the pictures of her late husband and their family in happy times. Damp tissues clutched in her hand, she ran her fingertips over the picture of Jack and his airplane, smiling at some unvoiced memory.

Even though Susan had been a widow for more than a decade, I could see the love in her eyes. She sometimes had the same expression when she looked at me, but I’d never seen the raw, untamed emotion she displayed when she gazed at the picture of Jack. Then suddenly, she took a deep breath and it was gone, locked away for her own private remembrance.

My parents silently smiled at each other and then Dad put his arm around Mom.

“We’re glad you like it,” Dad said.

“It’s... wonderful,” Susan said at last, her voice full of emotion.

Later, Elizabeth served hot mulled cider and we all headed out to the hot tub. The weather wasn’t too cold, but the water felt nice by comparison. Everyone teased me about looking too thin—I was down to 171 pounds, but I still wanted to lose a bit more weight. I shrugged it off, but Mom was clearly concerned.

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” my dad told her. “I lost nearly fifteen pounds my freshman year in college.”

“And I thought you were too thin,” Mom countered. Then she turned to me. “I’m just worried about you, dear. That’s all.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, “but I’m fine. I eat three meals a day.” Usually, I added mentally. “I’ve just got a busy schedule and all.”

She was clearly unconvinced, but she let the subject drop. Fortunately, the conversation turned to other things. After about fifteen minutes, however, Gina and Susan shared a look. Then Gina squeezed my hand and tilted her head up to whisper in my ear.

“Do you want to spend some time with Susan?” she suggested. “She said she’s got another present for you. Remember?”

I nodded.

“And then,” Gina continued, “I think they’re planning a little party.”

“I figured,” I said.

“Afterward, would you like to spend the night?” she asked, squeezing my hand again.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Good. Now go, pitter-pat man.”

I met Susan’s eyes and nodded.

She thanked Gina with a glance and then semi-ostentatiously drained her cider mug. “I think I’m going to head inside and get some more cider,” she said.

“That sounds like a good idea,” I said. “I’ll go with you.”

“I’ll go too,” Leah piped up.

In a flash, Elizabeth took in the situation and reacted. “No, you stay here,” she told her daughter.

“But, Mom...”

Elizabeth’s expression turned hard.

At that point, Gina got her sister’s attention and started telling Leah about the sorority ski trip.

Once inside, Susan stepped close and put her hand on my chest. “Thank you for my drawing,” she said. “I’ll always treasure it.”

I felt my cheeks heating. As a distraction, I thanked her again for my flight time and lessons.

“You’re welcome,” she said, ever gracious. Then, “The last gift I have for you is kind of simple. It might not seem like much, but it’s very special to me.”

I nodded and followed her to the Christmas tree. She picked up a small present. When I tore off the wrapping paper and opened the nondescript box, I felt my brow crease in uncertainty. The box was “new,” but clearly old at the same time.

“It’s an antique ship’s compass,” Susan said softly. “I bought it for Jack, before ... before he was killed. He always loved naval hardware,” she added, smiling fondly. “I was going to give it to him for Christmas that year, but...”

I nodded in understanding.

She took a deep, shaky breath. “I’ve kept it all these years, because it’s been a piece of him.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But this is too personal...”

“I want you to have it,” she said, cutting off my objections. “I don’t know what brought you into my life, but I’d like to think that Jack had something to do with it. When he first met your dad, he told me that it was like meeting his brother. They were that close.”

I nodded.

“And when your family started coming to camp, I watched you grow up. I didn’t know Jack when he was your age, but I imagine you’re a lot like he was,” she said. For a long moment, she was silent. Then she wiped her eyes and looked up at me. “Now, you’re a part of Jack, at least in my mind. You’re a separate person, but I see the best of him in you. Do you understand?”

I swallowed hard and nodded.

“So now, in a strange way, I’m giving the compass to its rightful owner.”

Suddenly, I had to blink back tears of my own.

Instead of saying anything else, Susan simply stepped close and hugged me.

Over her shoulder, I gazed at the brass compass, the lights of the Christmas tree reflecting from its glass. Then my eyesight blurred and I held Susan as she squeezed me tighter still.

Once we composed ourselves, we filled our mugs with cider and then took the insulated carafe out to the hot tub. I noticed that someone—Chris, probably—had turned on the guesthouse lights. He’d probably turned up the heat as well, since the Coulters lowered the thermostat when the guesthouse was unoccupied.

Susan followed my eyes and linked her arm through mine, smiling happily. Then we picked up our pace. In the short walk from the main house, our skin had turned to gooseflesh, so we quickly plunged into the bubbling water of the hot tub. As Susan poured hot cider into mugs, I settled between Elizabeth and Gina.

“What did you think?” Gina asked quietly.

“About what?”

“About the compass, silly,” she said.

“How’d you know about that?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Do you think you’re the only one who talks to Susan? She asked me about it ... about a month ago, before Thanksgiving.”

“Why’d she ask you?” I asked, a little suspicious.

“Because she wanted my opinion, I guess. And...”

“And...?”

Gina actually blushed, her café au lait complexion darkening. “I think she’s trying to get us to talk to each other more. I mean, she knows that things haven’t been good between us for a while, and I guess she’s trying to fix things from afar.”

I nodded.

“But she also knows that she can’t make decisions for us. We’ve got to talk to each other,” Gina said earnestly. “I mean, I’m even willing to try to work things out with Kendall ... again.”

“Do you want to drive up to Chattanooga with me tomorrow?” I asked immediately.

“That’s a dumb idea,” she said without heat. “I mean, think about it for a moment. Kendall thinks she’s got you for the night, by yourself. How will she feel if I show up uninvited?”

“I see what you mean.”

“Mmm hmm. But maybe when we get back to school, we can all sit down and talk about things. Okay?”

“It’s a date,” I said. Then I kissed her.

“I love you so much,” she said with quiet intensity, her breasts crushing against me as she hugged me tight.

“Hey, the kids are starting early,” Chris said.

Elizabeth made a reproachful moue at his antics.

“I thought we were gonna— Hey! That hurt.”

“And I’ll do it again if you don’t behave,” Elizabeth threatened.

Chris rubbed his side and grimaced.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly. “Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?”

“Now that’s not a bad idea,” Chris said.

“Mom?” Leah prompted from across the tub.

“Yes, dear?”

“Can Erin and I join you all tonight? We’re not kids anymore, and—”

“You know the rules,” Elizabeth interrupted. “Not until you’re eighteen.”

“But that’s not fair. Gina and Paul didn’t have to wait!”

“They most certainly did have to wait,” Elizabeth said sternly, her British accent making her sound a little prim. Then her expression softened. “But we sometimes made exceptions...,” she ventured, glancing at my mom.

The two women shared a silent conversation and then looked toward Susan, who said, “We did make an occasional exception.”

“Please, Mom,” Leah begged. “Please, please, please, please.”

I glanced at Erin, who was grinning. Then Mom got her attention and wordlessly asked if she wanted to join us. Erin considered it for a moment and then nodded.

“I don’t know...,” Elizabeth was saying when I turned my attention back to her. I knew her well enough to realize that she’d already made up her mind, though. She was going to let her youngest daughter join the party, but she wanted to see how Leah would behave if she thought she wasn’t going to get what she wanted.

“Please, Mom,” Leah asked. “I promise, I won’t ask again.”

When Leah actually closed her mouth and stopped wheedling, my eyebrows rose in surprise.

“What do you think, dear?” Elizabeth asked her husband.

“I think I know when to keep my mouth shut,” Chris answered immediately.

“For once,” Elizabeth said. Then she smiled to take the sting out of her words. Finally, she turned and looked a question at my mom.

“It’s all right with me,” Mom said.

“This is an exception,” Elizabeth stressed to her daughter. “A special occasion. Okay?”

“Thank you, Mom,” Leah gushed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” With that, she practically lunged at me.

“Hey there! Not so fast,” Gina said, fending off her sister.

“But...”

“Leah...,” her mother warned.

“Why don’t we have a mother-daughter party?” Susan suggested, the voice of reason. “Beth and Erin can tag-team Chris—”

Mom and Erin grinned at each other, while Chris tried to look scared. They didn’t buy it.

“—and you and your mom,” Susan continued, to Leah, “can find out if David’s man enough for two women at once.”

“Oh, he is,” Mom assured Susan.

“But what about Paul?” Leah asked. Then she glanced at Susan. “Oh.”

“Mmm hmm,” Susan said. “I thought Gina and I would see if Paul can handle both of us.”

“D’you think you can, ahem, do it, big boy?” Gina asked, even white teeth flashing in challenge.

Leah started to protest, but at a sharp look from her mother, she fell silent. Then Elizabeth gestured for her daughter to come close. I was near enough to overhear.

“Don’t you think David is sexy?” Elizabeth asked.

Leah nodded sullenly. “Yeah, but Paul—”

“No ‘buts,’” Elizabeth cautioned.

Leah fell silent.

“You know how much David shoots when he comes. I know you like the taste,” Elizabeth said. “After all, you’re a Coulter woman.” When Leah didn’t react, Elizabeth continued, softly, but with steel in her voice. “Leah, if Susan and Gina want to have sex with Paul, then that’s the way it’s going to be. Paul is Gina’s boyfriend. You know how we do things ... the women make the rules.”

Leah reluctantly nodded.

“Besides, it’s Susan’s only night here, and you’re being childish.”

Leah started to bristle, but her mother cut her off with a gesture.

“If you don’t stop pouting,” Elizabeth said, “I’m going to change my mind about letting you participate. Do you understand me, young lady?”

Around the hot tub, idle conversation continued, everyone pointedly ignoring the mother-daughter tête-à-tête. I was looking at anything but Leah and Elizabeth—and I’d even made a few inane contributions to the conversation around me—but I was riveted to the drama next to me, of course.

“But, Mom...” Leah half-whined.

“Leah! Stop and think about what you’re doing. David knows you want to have sex with Paul. How do you think it makes him feel to know he’s your second choice? How would it make you feel?”

“Not very good,” Leah answered after a moment.

“Precisely. That’s not very polite.”

Leah silently agreed.

“And you know how I feel about rudeness,” Elizabeth warned.

“Yes, Mom,” Leah said in resignation.

“Then you have a choice. You can change your attitude and decide to enjoy yourself, or...”

“Or?” Leah asked, although she probably knew the answer.

“Or you can go up to the house and sit in your room. The choice is yours.”

Leah sighed. Then, “But, Mom, I just wanna—”

“I know, dear,” Elizabeth interrupted, her voice comforting. “But I have it on good authority”—she flicked her eyes to my mom, who briefly met them—”that David thinks you’re very sexy.”

“He does?!”

“Mmm hmm,” Elizabeth answered. “He told me that you’re tempting enough to break the rules for.”