“Sorry, darling,” she said. “I couldn’t get to sleep, I didn’t think the light would bother you....” “Huh?” He blinked his eyes open wider. She was sitting, but with a pillow propped behind her back, book on her lap. “No, ‘sarigh’,” he mumbled. “Go ’head. Light don’ bother....” She’d been reading.... _She had been up first!_ He shook his head, clearing it, got her in focus. The flicker of frown on her forehead was apology, not worry.... So it _had_ been a dream? “Hey,” he said, “Was I...?” He twisted his neck cautiously, felt for the knot in back with an exploring hand. “I feel like.... Was I keeping you up, babe? Thrashing around, or ... anything?” “No. It was just this damn book. I got started reading it and I kept thinking and I couldn’t sleep--I’m sorry, darling,” she said again. She closed the book with a snap and reached for the light switch. _No!_ “Don’t quit on account of me,” he said quickly. “Light doesn’t bother me.” _Jesus, what a dream!_ “Anyhow, I’m up now.” He rubbed at his neck, groped under the pillow and found his handkerchief. “I guess I was dreaming.” He wiped sweat from his forehead and neck and face. Then he swung his legs out of the bed and stood up. “Coffee?” Lisa hesitated, shook her head: No. Johnny found his shorts on the floor, pulled them on. There was sweat on his thighs, too. Sticky and drying. _A shower_, he thought ... _too damn hot in here_. He peered at the thermostat; it said 68, but the room was hot. He turned it down. _Check it out in the morning_, he thought. Couldn’t be working right. A drink and a shower would do it, all right. Then he could get back to sleep. Just one drink.... “Maybe a brandy...?” It took a moment to register--she meant for _her_. He looked down at her, grinning. “Hey!” he said, “Don’t you think one lush around here is enough?” She smiled and he leaned over, meaning to drop a quick kiss on her hair. Then it hit him again: the incredible fact of her presence, right there, in his house, in his bed ... the look and shape of her, the curve of shoulder, the _aliveness_ just below her skin, the way her cheek curved with her smile ... smiling light in her eyes, and all for him ... _for him_ ... even while the faint line of frowning ... for him, too ... lingered above. The cloudy feel and fragrance of her hair, and the strange blend of scents on her skin; soap, grass, sex, something else, something sweet and delicious and way-back in memory. “Oh, _baby_!” he said and sat down to do an all-out job of kissing her. “Maybe I _don’t_ want that coffee--Nope!” He stood up, abruptly aware of dried sweat on his face, in his hair. “The lady wants a drink, that’s what she gets!” In the kitchen, he got the bottle and two glasses and went straight back, not giving himself time for the quick one he would have had while he mixed his coffee. He gave Lisa the bottle. “Pour me. I’ll be right back.”