1. I was folding laundry in the dark and watching Judge Judy rip this guy a new asshole when the doorbell rang. I flipped down a pair of Oakley wrap-around sunglasses and, still holding a pair of little Anthony's cotton briefs in one hand, opened the front door. The light, still painfully bright, poured in from outside. I squinted behind my shades and could just made out the image of a UPS deliveryman. And, oh, what an image it was. As my eyes adjusted to the light, a hunky guy with tan legs and beefy arms materialized through the screen door before me. He grinned at me easily, showing off a perfect row of white teeth. Spiky yellow hair protruded from under his brown cap. The guy should have been a model, or at least my new best friend. "Mrs. Moon?" he asked. His eyes seemed particularly searching and hungry, and I wondered if I had stepped onto the set of a porno movie. Interestingly, a sort of warning bell sounded in my head. Warning bells are tricky to discern, and I automatically assumed this one was telling me to stay away from Mr. Beefy, or risk damaging my already rocky marriage. "You got her," I said easily, ignoring the warning bells. "I've got a package here for you." "You don't say." "I'll need for you to sign the delivery log." He held up an electronic gizmo-thingy that must