The hot rays of the summer sun were abruptly shut out as Nicole and Heath crept into the barn. The spacious cavity within was deserted, and it looked as though the absent farmer hadn't used the barn in months. It smelled of splintered wood and straw, and the sun sent thin slants of light across the earthen floor.

Heath smiled conspiratorially at Nicole and, taking her hand, led her to a hay-filled corner. They'd acted on impulse, letting their sudden aching desires dictate their actions. So much of the honeymoon had been this way; spontaneous sidetracks from the main road, urgent fucking in barely concealed public places: the park, the information booth, the gas station toilet. Their hunger for each other was paramount. They could have gone sightseeing in a desert and it wouldn't have made a difference. Every place was an Eden and every moment was marked by wet, hard obsession.

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