Scowling, Marla pulled back. “Bigger is definitely better.”

Visuals came to Arizona’s mind, but she didn’t have quite the reaction Marla seemed to expect. She wrinkled her nose. “If you say so.”

Marla shivered with pleasure. “He’s delicious.”

Yeaaaahhhh, she’d let that one go. “You’re saying that even though he’s big, you don’t feel…” She couldn’t think of an appropriate word and settled for, “maybe threatened?”

“With Spencer? Of course not.”

Hmm. Okay, so Spencer was extra tall, extra muscular, solid, and loaded with ability. He had never hurt her.

Contained her, yes. Hurt her, no. “So you like it that he’s big?”

“That, and the man knows things.”

Fascinating. What things could he know that she didn’t, that Marla found not only acceptable, but good enough to want again and again? “Give me an example.”

“I’m not telling you!”

Provoking her—because she really did want details—Arizona said, “That’s what I thought. You can’t give an example because you don’t know.”

“He’s wonderful.”

Arizona snorted. “Wonderfully pushy.”

“He’s considerate and patient.”

“So is my bookie,” Arizona told her, “but I wouldn’t want to screw him.” She shuddered at just the thought.

Taking the bait, Marla leaned forward again. “He’s the best, most generous lover I’ve ever had.”

“How many have you had?”

“My God.” Gasping, Marla drew back once more. “That is none of your business!”

“You brought it up.” Still ripe with curiosity, Arizona asked, “So what does Spence do specifically that’s so awesome you’d be willing to fight for him?”

Marla blanched. “Fight? But…but I never said anything about fighting.”

“No? So then what’s this?” Arizona waved a hand between them. “Some sort of warped social call?”

Her mouth worked, but it took her a few seconds to get anything out. “He said you’re a stalker.”

Considering she’d broken in and watched him sleep, she couldn’t deny that. “Ehhhh…maybe.”

Marla found her courage again. “Well, whatever reason you’re here, you might as well give up on the idea of having him. He’s mine, and he’s staying mine.”

Spencer drove up and, looking horrified to see the women together, pulled into his driveway and slammed the truck into Park.

Lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, Arizona watched him cross the yard in a fast, long-legged stride. He wore a frown of concern. Sheesh. What did he think she’d do to his girlfriend?

“Last chance to tell me what’s so special about him.” In bed.

“That’s personal, so forget it.”

Knowing there’d be no more Q & A, Arizona said to Marla, “Spoilsport.” And then she waited for Spencer to reach them.

* * *

WHILE ARIZONA ACTED as if nothing had happened, Spencer continued to stew. He didn’t know if she truly lacked all social graces, or if she enjoyed pushing his buttons in any and every way possible.

There’d be hell to pay with Marla. She’d already started to get clingy, and now, seeing Arizona as a direct threat, she’d probably double her efforts.

Just what he didn’t need.

Since losing his wife three years ago, he’d occasionally given in to his baser urges. He was a grown man, and between long bouts of celibacy, he needed relief.

He didn’t fault himself for that.

But giving in to Marla had been a huge mistake. Their close proximity as neighbors was sticky enough; the fact that she had marriage in her eyes should have been the clincher.

Unfortunately, a few months after she’d moved in, she’d caught him at a weak moment, a moment he regretted, and after that…well, he’d slept with her a total of three times.

Idiotic. And regrettable.

But that was all before meeting Arizona, and since meeting her… No, he hadn’t wanted Marla.

Straddling a chair, Arizona watched him intently as he went about cooking dinner. There was a new attentiveness to her gaze that hadn’t been there before. He didn’t understand it.

He didn’t understand her.

They hadn’t said much since he’d more or less dragged her inside—away from Marla—with rushed excuses. He felt her amusement, and it nettled him. He felt her curiosity, and that worried him more.

“Food smells good.”

Standing at the stove turning chops, Spencer glanced back at her. An olive branch? From Arizona? He wasn’t fool enough to reject it.

“Thanks. We would have had steaks on the grill, but—”

“You didn’t want Marla to see us together.” Arizona grinned. “I get it.” She lifted her hand as if shooting a gun. “The lady’s got you in her sights and she’s taking aim.”

The microwave dinged, so he took out the potatoes. “Marla misunderstands the situation.”

“Nah, I don’t think so. She knows you’re not hooked yet, or she wouldn’t be so insecure about things.” Snorting, Arizona added, “I can’t believe you told her we slept together.”

His neck stiffened. “It was as good an excuse as any.”

“Yeah, maybe. But now she knows better.”