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presented a challenge to boot. With a body most models would drool over, she rocked the self-destructive persona which drew him in even more.
    Normally, his presence from the TV commercials would have women falling all over him. In the past, the shallowness of people had driven him nuts. Now that his twin brother was doing the commercials so he could open the shop, he could care less about women’s admiring glances. Just when he thought he’d cornered Candice, she’d thrown him a fast curve by asking for a second cigarette. He’d known that one more kiss and his control would have fled.
    She suddenly walked into his bedroom, holding her pillows in front of her body like a shield. He knew she was at least a size-C cup under those oversized pajamas. He throbbed just thinking about unwrapping the layers from health, mind, and clothing alike.
    Thankful that the darkness hid his raw lust, he patted the bed beside him. When she got near enough, she asked, “Do I need to wake you up if I want to smoke again?”
    Smelling the toothpaste she’d obviously used to cover up the ashtray breath, he grinned and tried to wipe the huskiness out of his voice, “I’m a light sleeper.”
    He froze when she whipped her gaze in his direction. Finally shrugging, he admitted, “Give me a break, Candice.”
    “I’ve never slept with someone.” His eyebrows flew up but she quickly corrected, “I mean… actually slept .”
    Realizing he was locked into this weird scenario, he shoved a pillow between them and told her goodnight. Both settled into positions but, within a few minutes, each shifted to another. After a stretch of silence, he asked, “Do you mind if I turn the TV on? Sometimes that helps me sleep.”
    “No, I’m the same way. I have a horrible time sleeping most of the time. Sometimes, I even…” Realizing she was nervously rambling, she trailed off with, “…make coffee.”
    “Caffeine keeps most people awake. Does it help you sleep?”
    She shrugged, “It does when I crash.”
    He slid to place his back against the headboard, eyeing her for a second before he grinned, “You are so backwards. Potato chips for breakfast, coffee to go to sleep, and you’d sleep with me for a cigarette.”
    “You make me sound like a nicotine-whore crossed with a junk-food junkie.”
    He laughed before shaking his head, “That’s your view of yourself. What do you think of me? Tight-assed and straight-laced?”
    “My first impression was a smooth-talking son-of-a-bitch.”
    He roared laughter while her cheeks heated. Rolling her eyes, she said, “You named your business well—Smooth Moves—or did your father name it?”
    He shook his head, “My brother did. If it had been up to my dad, we’d have named it Bowel Movements or something similar.”
    She broke down into giggles, gasping as she tried to ask about his family. He watched her roll on his bed, tears streaming down her face, before motioning toward the TV and adding, “I can’t say I blame him. The man’s as old as that film.”
    She glanced toward the black and white flick, shrieking with laughter when he said of the older actor playing Dracula, “Kind of resembles him too.”
    Trying to wipe her tears away, she gasped when he grabbed her arms and dragged her to him. Tucking her under his arm, he said, “Tell me about Candice. Does Lupus run in your family?”
    She cringed and shook her head, “Let’s just say toxic shock can wreck the body in more ways than one. They administered something in the hospital to stop a stroke which was brought on by the shock. That, in turn, wrecked my immune system. Every illness I’d acquired until the time I was seventeen roared to life and attacked. I didn’t know until a couple of years later that all of it had manifested into various illnesses…including Lupus.”
    “Where’s your family live, Candice?”
    Shaking her head again, she frowned, “I only have one uncle. My mom passed away when I was thirteen and my father