Читать книгу Tempted In Texas - Heather Macallister - Страница 9

“LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT—the bride threw you a skirt that has special man-attracting powers?”

Gwen hefted her suitcase into the trunk of her friend’s car. “That she claims has special man-attracting powers. And not just any man, but supposedly your one, true love. There’ve even been articles written about it. Isn’t that a hoot?” she prompted when Laurie didn’t roll her eyes or fall over laughing.

“I think it’s sweet.”

Sweet? Gwen had felt the need to talk to a rational, nonwedding-infected female. Laurie VanCamp, a friend from work who was giving her a ride home from the airport, was just the person. Or so Gwen had thought.

But Laurie wasn’t scoffing the way she was supposed to. “Tell me the whole story again.”

So Gwen did as they left Houston’s Bush Airport, merged onto the freeway and headed for Gwen’s apartment in the Galleria area. By the time Laurie matched speed with the other cars barreling down the freeway, Gwen was sorry she’d told her anything.

“What’s the skirt look like?” Laurie asked.

“Black, slinky but classy, knee-length—nothing special.”

“Has it been road-tested?”

“Sort of.”

“Has it or hasn’t it?”

Sheesh. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Well, does it work?” Laurie was taking this whole thing way too seriously.

“How should I know?” Gwen snapped.

“How many of the women found their husbands while wearing it?” Laurie asked with exaggerated patience.

Gwen sighed. “Both of them,” she admitted.

Laurie shot her a startled look, then trained her eyes back on the highway. “And your problem with this skirt is…?”

“Aside from not believing a word of the story? I don’t want a man.”

“Right.”

“Really! Men take too much time and energy. And they’re unreliable. I mean, look—you had to come get me at the airport because the guy changing the oil in my car didn’t have it ready when he said he would.”

“The last Sunday in December is prime football playoff season, not to mention all the college bowl games. What do you expect?”

“I expect him to do what he said he would! I should have known better, but the fact that he’s my neighbor made me forget he’s a man.”

“He’s doing you a favor—give him a break.”

“I’m paying him. And why are you making excuses for him? I was stranded at the airport and he’d had three days to change the oil. You shouldn’t have had to mess up your Sunday afternoon just so he could watch football.” She shook her head. “I don’t need the aggravation. Men are like a really time-consuming hobby that’s become more trouble than it’s worth. I’ll be better off concentrating on my career.”

“Like the world needs more caffeine.”

“Hey! You work at Kwik Koffee, too!”

“Yes, but if you’re giving up men, it should be for something noble like finding a cure for cancer or heart disease or becoming an astronaut or something.”

“You see? You see? You just proved my point. More women would have those careers if they didn’t have to spend their time catering to men.”

“So find a man who isn’t a jerk like Eric.”

Like that was so easy. “I didn’t know Eric was a jerk when we started going out.” She gritted her teeth to keep from listing all his jerkish traits for about the eleven millionth time.

“And you’re still letting him yank your chain. Gwen, honey, it’s time to move on.”

“I have. By—my—self. Seriously. I’m through with men. Don’t need ’em.”

“Sure you do.” Laurie gave her an infuriating smile.

“Why? I’ve got a job, a nice apartment, a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes and a vibrator—why do I need a man?”

Laurie snickered. “Uh…companionship?”

“I’ll make a note to myself to get a dog—they’re not as much trouble.”

“Okay, then…” Laurie drew herself up, physically preparing to deliver the coup de grâce to the conversation. “Children.” She sat back and waited for Gwen’s reaction.

“They take longer to housebreak than dogs. And men.”

“Such cynicism does not become you.” Laurie signaled and took the Westheimer exit off the 610 loop.

“Sure it does. I’ve practiced a world-weary expression that makes me look attractively sophisticated.” Gwen demonstrated.

Stopping at the traffic light gave Laurie time to study her. “You’ll get wrinkles.”

“That’s what Botox injections are for.”

Laurie looked disgusted—an expression that Gwen couldn’t help noticing would give her frown lines. She decided not to mention it.

“So you’re not going to wear the skirt.”

The skirt again. “Oh, I’ll wear it. I’m just not going to go manhunting in it.”

“I can’t believe you’re being so selfish. You said your friend, Kate, has to catch it after you, if she’s still single. But after her, it’ll be a free-for-all grab and I want an invitation to that wedding.”

“You’re that desperate for a man?”

“As I understand it, the skirt attracts lots of men before true love wins out. What fun.” Laurie sighed.

What had happened to the independent, competent, take-no-prisoners Laurie she worked with? “Our fore-mothers would be appalled to hear this conversation. Your mother would be appalled to hear this conversation. What about all the struggling, protesting and fighting for equal rights, and burning bras—”

“Like that did anything but give them sagging boobs.”

“—so their daughters—we—could have a choice in how we live our lives?”

Laurie shrugged and turned into Gwen’s apartment complex. “So I’m choosing to live it with a man.”

“And I’m choosing not to.”

Laurie slid a look at her. “You’ve done a real good job of getting the word out, because I haven’t noticed that many men around that you could choose not to have a life with.”

Gwen bristled. “Then you haven’t been looking.”

“Really? When was the last time a man asked you for a date?”

“Well, I—”

“Not business-related, just you and an eligible man—meaning he’s single, uninvolved, straight and looking.”

“Looking for what?”

“Involvement at some level.”

“Does superficial involvement count?” Gwen asked cynically.

“In your case, yes. So when?”

Gwen smiled in triumph. “Remember Paddy O’Brien’s cousin?”

“The Paddy O’Brien who owns the Shamrock pub?”

Gwen nodded. “When his cousin was visiting from Ireland over St. Patrick’s Day, Paddy set us up for the green beer party.”

Laurie was silent a moment. “You can’t get much more superficial than that.”

“Hey!”

“Even allowing for blind dates—”

“It wasn’t a blind date. He was working the bar when we stopped in earlier that week. Remember those Irish coffees?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is that all you can say? You had three.”

“And haven’t had another since.” Laurie managed to find a parking space across the alley drive from Gwen’s apartment. She parked, then leveled a look at her. “You’re counting hanging around a guy during a green beer party as a date?”

“Sure am.”

“But he didn’t take you anywhere, spend any money on you and you certainly weren’t alone, not to mention the possibility that he might have had an Irish colleen stashed away in the motherland, which I guess really doesn’t matter because you never saw him again.”

Gwen sighed. “No muss, no fuss. Perfect, wasn’t he?”

“But Gwen…how can you not want to date anybody?”

“Because dating leads to relationships.”

“You wish.”

“No, I don’t wish. My life is just fine the way it is, thank you very much. And you should be encouraging me. I’ve recognized the pattern of my mistakes and I’m trying to break the cycle.”

“But breaking the cycle doesn’t mean giving up all men—just the wrong ones.”

Gwen threw up her hands. “But I can’t seem to figure out how to avoid the wrong ones until it’s too late!”

“Isn’t that what the skirt’s for?”

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Forget the skirt.”

“I don’t want to forget the skirt. Things have changed since the last time you swam a few laps in the dating pool.”

“Men have stopped being self-centered?”

“That’s an attractive self-confidence.”

“Do they still act like they’re at an all-you-want sex buffet?”

“More and more are into à la carte.”

“From the same menu? For ever and ever?”

“You just came back from a wedding!”

“And most important—will they share dessert?”

Laurie gave her a puzzled look. “I’ve lost the analogy.”

Gwen wasn’t surprised. “Relationships require give and take and I got tired of being the one doing all the giving. I keep promising myself that each time will be different and then…” She shrugged. “So no more men.”

“Okay, fine. Just wear the skirt until some guy asks you out, then pass it on to another deserving woman before you reject him.”

“It’s supposed to be thrown at a wedding, remember? Kate has to have it next.”

Laurie grinned. “And I’d be happy to take it to her. Let me see it before you go.”

“Whatever.”

They both got out of the car and Gwen shrugged out of her coat, grateful for the mild Texas weather after frigid New York. Laurie opened the trunk and Gwen unzipped her suitcase. The skirt was right on top.

Laurie reached for the folded skirt and shook it out. “It’s just a black skirt,” she said with disappointment. “I wonder why men are attracted to it.” She eyed Gwen speculatively. “Wear it to my New Year’s Eve party. We’ll test it then.”

“I didn’t know you were having a New Year’s Eve party.”

“Neither did I. I feel strangely compelled.”

“Give me that.” Gwen snatched the skirt away and put it back into her suitcase.

“I’m still having the party.”

“Everyone’s already got plans.”

“Do you have plans?” Laurie asked.

“Well, I usually go over to my parents’…stop looking at me like that!” Gwen dragged her suitcase out of Laurie’s car.

“How am I supposed to look at you? It sounds so pathetic!”

“It’s not! They have an open house—and an open bar, the good stuff. It’s not a jug wine-and-chips kind of thing. And they serve real champagne at midnight,” she added with a touch of desperation when Laurie continued to look at her with deepening pity. “And it can’t hurt my career to network with their friends.”

Laurie squinted into the distance. “Their friends could have sons.” She nodded. “Could be good. I’ll come, too.”

“You’re not invited!”

“Why not?”

“What about your party?”

She waved her hand. “Everyone will already have plans.”

“You aren’t going to find any men there—at least not men our age. They’re my parents’ friends.”

“I can’t be your parents’ friend?”

Her mother had breezily suggested Gwen bring “somebody.” Gwen knew she had meant somebody male, somebody to deflect the annual marital status grilling. She eyed Laurie. Bringing a female might be even better. Definitely better. There would never again be any of those “When are you…?” questions.

“Okay,” she said.

“Great! Can I bring anything?”

“No. It’s catered. Oh, and I always sleep over, so pack your jammies.”

“Ooo, not jammies. What if someone sees me?”

Laurie was blond, young and in good shape. Very good shape. She’d blow out the men’s pacemakers. “Bring a robe.”

“No, no, no, no, no. You misunderstood. I might want to be seen.”

“I understood all right. It’s flannel and opaque or you don’t go.”

Laurie threw out her lower lip in a pout. “That’s not very festive.”

“It’s a New Year’s Eve party at my parents’ place. You aren’t supposed to be festive!”

Laurie raised an eyebrow.

“Not festive in that way,” Gwen said.

“You mean in a prepared-for-serendipity way?”

“I mean in a going-after-middle-aged-married-men way.”

“You should talk. You’re the one who’s going to be wearing the skirt. You’ll see. And so will their wives. But don’t worry. I’ll be there to watch your back.”

Gwen shuddered at the thought. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” she said noncommittally and began wheeling her suitcase over to the covered parking. “Thanks for the ride.” She turned to wave at Laurie and nearly smacked her in the face because she was right behind her. “What are you doing?”

Laurie discreetly pointed to Gwen’s charcoal gray Japanese import. “Are those legs supposed to be under your car?”

Gwen had already seen the cutoff clad legs of her neighbor sticking out from beneath her car. He’d driven over the curb so that the front wheels were lifted off the ground. From the angle they now stood, she could see under the car to the slice of well-muscled midriff that was also exposed. She heaved a deep breath in irritation. “Yeah.”

Laurie audibly swallowed. “You don’t need the skirt. Give it to me right now.”

Clearly, Laurie wasn’t going anywhere without an introduction. Even though Gwen had given up men, she still didn’t want to see her neighbor’s reaction to Laurie in hunting mode. She had a nice little nonrelationship thing going with him and Laurie could really screw it up.

Honestly, Gwen didn’t know how she did it, yet right now, she could feel Laurie getting into the zone. It was more than just throwing back her shoulders and licking her lips. Something about her walk changed. And her expression. She made eye contact with a vengeance.

Just for the sake of experimentation, Gwen tried making eye contact with her neighbor’s legs. It didn’t work—and not only because he chose that moment to shove himself from beneath the car and stretch, providing them with a brief, yet highly memorable view of his supine body.

Gwen choked in the middle of swallowing.

“Hey, Gwen, you’re back!” Shoving himself off the stained pavement, he brushed at the back of his shorts, examined his hands, reached for a red rag and wiped them off.

“Hi, Alec. This is…”

But Laurie was ahead of her purring, “Hi. I’m Laurie.”

“Laurie, this is my neighbor, Alec Fleming,” Gwen said at the same moment Alec was reaching for Laurie’s hand and introducing himself.

Clearly her work here was done. Ordinarily, Gwen would discreetly move away, but she wanted to see the show. And there was the matter of knowing whether or not Alec was finished with her car.

Laurie immediately moved closer to him, getting into his personal space, Gwen noted, though she didn’t know why she bothered. She wasn’t planning on using any of Laurie’s stalking tips.

Alec had tucked his fingertips in his back pockets, a pose that displayed the width of his chest and showed off his arms, which were revealed by a sweatshirt that he’d cut the sleeves off. The ragged edges emphasized his shoulders.

Ah, mating rituals. Laurie looked dazzled and not as sure of herself as she usually did.

Gwen could see why. Even in his grease-monkey state—or maybe because of his grease-monkey state—Alec was looking mighty fine.

But then, he usually did. He was lucky enough to have a natural honey-on-whole-wheat-toast color of skin that meant he looked good without subjecting himself to the damaging effects of the sun.

Now that she’d given up men, Gwen would no longer be subjecting herself to multihour sessions involving exfoliation and painting her body with self-tanner, then standing with outstretched arms during most of a movie-of-the-week and hoping that no one was peeking through the space where her curtains didn’t quite meet.

Men. Too much trouble. She shook her head slightly as Laurie wrinkled her nose. Wrinkled her nose. Someone probably once told her it looked cute. Gwen supposed it did, in a way, if you were a man. Look at me. I’m so helpless and you’re so big and strong. Ick, ick and more ick.

“I really appreciate you giving Gwen, here, a ride home.” Alec turned just enough to include Gwen in their charmed circle.

“Gwen’s a friend. I didn’t mind,” Laurie breathed.

At least she didn’t tell him it hadn’t been any trouble, because any trip to the busy Houston airport was a royal pain.

“And aren’t you just the sweetest thing to change her oil for her?”

Laurie’s voice had taken a syrupy tone to which she wasn’t entitled since she’d been born and raised in Kansas City. Gwen narrowed her eyes at her, but she didn’t notice.

Alec didn’t either. He was too busy flashing a grin at Laurie. “She’s paying me!”

Which was what Gwen had already told her. It mollified her somewhat that Alec admitted it. She was about to complain about her car not being ready when he continued.

“And I’ve earned every penny.” He lowered his brows—attractively—at her in mock sternness. “Lady, when’s the last time you had your oil changed? The filter was frozen in there.”

Gwen suddenly found herself on the defensive. “I, uh…”

“Since you’ve chosen not to buy American, I needed to borrow a metric tool set, which I didn’t realize I’d need until after I’d drained all the oil out.” He rubbed his index finger against a spot above his eyebrow, leaving a faint smudge that detracted not one whit from his appearance.

“Shame on you, Gwen,” Laurie said snidely.

Gwen glared at her until Laurie remembered they weren’t in competition for Alec’s attention.

“But I’m probably just as bad about car maintenance.” Which was a lie. Laurie was a fanatic about car maintenance because she’d once been stranded in the middle of the night after going to a trendy new club in an iffy area of Houston and never wanted to repeat the experience. However, Gwen understood that Laurie was trying to make up for her earlier comment.

“It was poor planning on my part, I’ll admit. My brother-in-law wouldn’t bring me his tools until halftime. Texas is playing Penn State,” Alec added.

“Oh, yeah,” Gwen said, as though she followed college football. After Eric, she’d had enough of football.

“Like I said, it wasn’t a problem.” Laurie was still hanging around and Gwen guessed she was giving Alec a chance to say something along the lines of “Let me buy you dinner to make it up to you.”

He wouldn’t, Gwen figured. Alec Fleming was starting his own business and currently had no money. Gwen suspected that he might have once had—he’d made a reference or two about working at a family business—but he didn’t have any money now, which was why he’d offered to change her oil instead of Gwen going to the quick oil-change place she usually did.

“So is the car finished?” she asked.

“At last.” He looked skyward.

Hiding her smile, Gwen dug in her shoulder bag. “I am not going to pay you extra.”

“What? No tip?”

“Sure, I’ll give you a tip.” She nodded to his outfit. “Wear warmer clothes when you go outside to play.” She handed him a ten-dollar bill.

“I’m not cold. Besides, they’re all dirty.” He snapped the bill, held it up the light, then kissed it. “Laundry money!”

As they laughed, Gwen glanced at Laurie. Her expression, formerly interested and encouraging, had done a complete one-eighty. Gwen followed her gaze back to Alec and she understood. Instead of an eligible potential boyfriend, Laurie was now seeing him as a good-looking, but broke, mechanic with no ambition and no prospects.

Gwen smiled faintly. Like most women her age, she had one of those in her background and while they were fun, once was enough.

Alec wasn’t anything of the sort and if Laurie asked, Gwen would tell her. Could she help it if Laurie wouldn’t ask?

“Time for me to get going,” Laurie said. “Great meeting you.” She gave a tight nod to Alec. To Gwen, she said, “I’ll call you.”

Gwen noticed that Alec stopped making love to his ten-dollar bill long enough to watch Laurie walk off.

“Nice,” he said, and Laurie hadn’t even put anything extra in her walk.

“Yes.”

“But out of my price range.”

“What do you mean by that?”

At her sharp tone, he turned to her. A second later, realization dawned. “No! Hey—I just meant that a woman like that is high-maintenance and expensive. To stay in the running you’ve got to take her to clubs and restaurants and the bill runs up real quick…and I’m just digging myself deeper into a hole, aren’t I?” He gave her a charmingly rueful grin. Alec had charm to spare and knew it.

“Any deeper and there’ll be an echo.”

He held up both hands, black-creased palms outward. “I meant nothing against your friend.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Gwen agreed with him, anyway, but wouldn’t betray the sisterhood by admitting it.

“And, ah, I didn’t mean that you weren’t worth running up the tab for, either.”

She wished he hadn’t said that. They both knew she wasn’t a Laurie type and honestly, Gwen was all for the Lauries of this world. Why shouldn’t they value themselves enough to require men to make an effort? For all the effort Gwen required, she was a bigger bargain than a Christmas sweater in January. She needed to stop that.

But she didn’t want to have that kind of discussion with Alec, who was still standing there, searching her face for a sign of whether she was mad at him or not. He was a decent, if typically male, sort.

“I’m in a good position to guilt you into a really expensive evening, aren’t I?”

He didn’t smile and Gwen felt a twinge of that same guilt for making him suffer. But just a twinge. “Let me have a moment to savor the feeling….” She drew a deep breath. “I’m done. You’re off the hook.”

He grinned and his whole stance relaxed. “You’re okay, Gwen.” He made a movement and for a second, she thought he was going to give her a punch on the arm, but at the last minute, he swung his hand upward and raked his fingers through his hair. “Hey, you should give your car a spin around the block to make sure it’s running okay. Or I could do it for you,” he added casually.

He probably had errands to run. She really didn’t mind, though she was succumbing to his charm more than she should.

“Would you?” Gwen asked, as though he’d be doing her a huge favor.

“Sure!” He patted his shorts for her keys and dug them out. “I might stop off at the grocery store and get some quarters. Need anything?”

Gwen shook her head.

“Uh—do I look okay? I don’t have a grease moustache, or anything?”

“Just…” She hesitated, then reached up and rubbed at the faint streak on his brow bone. She could feel him watching her and hoped she wouldn’t do anything horridly juvenile like blush.

He had warm brown hair and warm—friendly warm—brown eyes to go with his warm brown body. Okay, so the warm body part was a wild guess based solely on his forehead, but the rest was true. Gwen also had brown hair and eyes, but her hair wasn’t as rich as his since she’d quit streaking it. What was the point? She’d given up men.

Funny how she had to keep reminding herself.

Especially when she was around Alec.