Читать книгу Every Woman's Fantasy - Vicki Thompson Lewis - Страница 8

Six months later

“ASHLEY, I’M SCARED.” Charlie McPherson watched her older sister close out the cash register for the day. Ashley had worked her butt off in retail for five years and now owned Glam Girl, home to some of Austin’s trendiest fashions.

Ashley glanced up. “About what?”

“Mark wants to meet me.” Charlie wasn’t into fashion, which was why she desperately needed advice and moral support from her big sis.

“Hey, you’ll be fine.” Ashley smiled. “Perfectly fine. He’s a lucky guy.”

“You’re my sister. You’re supposed to say that.”

Ashley gazed at her. “I don’t blame you for being nervous,” she said gently. “Let me finish up here and we’ll go get a couple of big old margaritas and talk about it.”

“That would be good.” Margaritas would definitely help give her the courage to explain her problem.

If she looked more like Ashley, she might not be so scared. Her sister could just as well be modeling fashions as selling them. Charlie envied three things about Ashley. She was nearly five-eight, which allowed her to wear every outfit in the store without hemming it. Secondly, her rich brown hair was wavy, not curly like Charlie’s, so she could wear it long. Last of all, their parents had given Ashley a terrific name which required no fiddling to make it sound right.

Charlie had to hem up almost everything she bought, and if she didn’t keep her blond hair short, she looked like Medusa. As for her name, she was still ticked off at her folks for saddling her with Charlene. Nobody these days was named Charlene.

She’d shortened it to Charlie, which sounded more twenty-first century and suited her outdoor lifestyle, but it wasn’t half as distinctive as Ashley. Of course, Charlie had to admit she didn’t look like an Ashley. Ashley belonged to someone elegant, like her sister. Nobody had ever accused Charlie of being elegant. Cute, bouncy, full of energy, yes. Never elegant. Making Charlie elegant would take a miracle.

Twenty minutes later, as Charlie sat across from Ashley at their favorite Tex-Mex restaurant, she was hoping her big sister would help her pull off that miracle.

“Here’s to a great first date with Mark O’Grady.” Ashley lifted her frosty glass and touched it to Charlie’s.

“Amen.” Charlie took a sip of her drink and set it on the square cocktail napkin. Then she looked over at her sister. “The thing is, when Mark suggested we write to each other for several weeks so we could really learn about each other before we met, I got this idea.”

Ashley put down her drink, too. “Which was?”

“I decided to change my image.”

She had Ashley’s total concentration now. “To what?” she asked carefully.

“Well, you know how most guys treat me like the girl next door. They see me as wholesome, low-maintenance, stuff like that.”

“Charlie, that’s because you are those things. They’re all pluses, in my book.”

“Whatever. The point is that in my whole life, I have never made a guy drool.”

“Oh.” Ashley gazed at her and the wheels were obviously going around. “So what kind of image does Mark have of you?”

“I didn’t lie or anything,” Charlie said quickly. “I mean, he knows I work for an outdoor adventure company, and he’s seen my picture so he knows what I look like. But I made him think that underneath that girl-next-door persona I’m also this…well, this really hot babe. I, um, wrote some pretty racy stuff, things I probably would never have the nerve to say in person.”

Ashley looked taken aback, but gradually her green eyes warmed. “Ah, I get it. You’re afraid that when you two meet, he’ll expect to jump into bed right away, and you’re not ready for that.”

“But I am ready for that.”

Ashley blinked. “You are? Oh, Charlie, I don’t think that’s a very good idea. You need to—”

“I need to experience unbridled passion for once in my life! With every other guy I’ve dated, there’s no mystery, no tension, no lust. But now I have that. We’ve had three months of postal foreplay. We are so loaded with tension. I just don’t want to mess up and diffuse it.”

Ashley stared at her. Then she took a quick drink of her margarita and cleared her throat. “Okay, let me get my bearings here. I can understand wanting to make a guy lust after you. But I can’t go along with the hopping-into-bed part. I realize you’ve exchanged a lot of letters with Mark, but that’s not the same as face-to-face contact. You need to give it more time before you get into a physical—”

Charlie let out a gusty sigh. “You sound so ‘older sister.’ Haven’t you ever gone to bed with a guy on the first date?”

Ashley blushed. “We’re not talking about me.”

“What? We should live by different rules?”

Her sister looked disconcerted. “Well, I—”

“Exactly. We shouldn’t. Now I’m not saying I will go to bed with him right away, but I might, if I don’t mess it up and come on like a camp counselor on the first date. I want you to help me look like a sex goddess.”

Ashley’s eyes widened. “If Mom and Dad could hear this conversation, they’d have a hissy-fit. I’m supposed to look out for you, not help you get into trouble.”

“Oh, so that’s it. Look, when I moved to Austin I was twenty-two. Maybe I needed some looking after. But hel-lo, I’m five years older now! I’m even older than you were when I got here. And, damn it, I want to feel sexy and glamorous for once in my life. Will you help me or not?”

Ashley studied her for a long moment. “I don’t know. This feels sort of weird. Do you have any idea where he’ll take you on this first date?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, once you know that, I’ll…I’ll at least help you find something great to wear.”

“Great as in nice, or great as in hot?”

“Oh, God.” Ashley looked at her and shook her head. “Unbridled lust? Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yep.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Mom and Dad would have a cow.”

“CHARLIE’S PERFECT. My dream girl. My soul mate. My happily-ever-after.” Mark brushed peanut shells from the table and wiped away a ring of moisture left by his empty beer bottle before laying a dog-eared picture on the table in front of Sam. “Look at that face and tell me she’s not perfect.”

“I’ve seen her face. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the one who picked her out of the stack and told you she had promise.”

“And you were right!”

“It remains to be seen whether I was right,” Sam said. “All the information isn’t in yet.”

“Most of it. And her letters are so…friendly. I think she looks exactly the way her letters sound, don’t you?”

Sam picked up the picture and studied it. Then he handed it back to Mark. “Okay, so she’s a good prospect on paper, but with your record, I don’t think you should rush into—”

“Sam, I’m ready to meet her. I’m so ready to meet her.” He tucked Charlie’s picture in his shirt pocket, right next to his heart.

Sam gave him the evil eye. “You said that with a little too much relish, good buddy. Just exactly what do you mean by meet?”

Mark threw up both hands. “I mean just meet! Like drive to Austin for the weekend, and—”

“Slow down, lover-boy! Are we talking an overnight here?”

“Well, yeah. If I take her out for a nice dinner somewhere, with wine, and candlelight, and…and stuff, then I don’t want to drive all the way back to Houston that same night.”

Sam leaned forward. “Dinner’s fine, candlelight and wine is terrific. But it’s the and stuff part that’s got me worried. I’m coming with you.”

“No way! Nobody’s chaperoned my dates since I was fourteen, and I’m not about to reactivate the custom now.”

Sam gazed at him for a long time, as if he was turning something over in his mind. Finally he settled back against the worn cushion of the booth with a sigh. “I hate to do this, because you’re like a brother to me and I’ve tried to stick by you through everything, but here’s the way it has to be. If you mosey on up to Austin and everything goes the way it always does with you, and you come back engaged after one romp in the sack, you’ll have to find yourself another best man this time.”

A cold chill washed over Mark. He’d known Sam all his life, and when he set his jaw like that, he was deadly serious. Apparently he’d had enough. To be honest, Mark couldn’t blame him.

“I ran into Deborah at the grocery store last night,” Sam said casually. “You know, it’s a wonder she didn’t sue you for breach of promise.”

“You’re right. She had grounds.” He glanced nervously at Sam. “Is she still upset?” He was hoping that six months had soothed her feelings.

“I would say she’s still upset. She asked if you’d contracted any deadly diseases yet. I think she’s sticking pins in a voodoo doll or something.”

“So she’s not over it.”

“Doesn’t look like it.” Sam signaled to the waitress and glanced at Mark. “Want another beer?”

“I think I’m gonna need one if we’re discussing Deb.” He waited until Sam had put in their order for two more long-necks. “So what else did she say about me?”

“Oh, the usual. That you’re a pimple on the backside of humanity, a virus on the Internet of life. That kind of thing. From the look in her eyes, she was thinking even worse insults than that, but I think she held back because she knows I’m your best friend and we were in a public place.”

“I really was hoping she’d be over it by now.” He was a rat, no doubt about it. Whenever he thought of how he’d left her high and dry, he used similar expressions to describe himself.

“Well, she’s not over it, but she’s trying to be. In fact, she’s linked up with your four other victims.”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that word.”

“I didn’t. She did. She said they’ve formed a support group. Either they’ll help each other to heal or they’ll figure out a really hideous form of revenge, whichever comes first.”

Mark gazed at Sam uneasily. “A support group? You mean with meetings and everything?”

“Why not? There’s five of them, so that makes a group.”

“I don’t know what to think about this.” Mark grabbed the bottle the waitress had just set in front of him and took a generous swig. “I mean, that’s kind of scary, Sam. Five women plotting against me.”

“You should be scared. Scared straight. They’ve even given themselves a name.”

Mark gazed across the table at his buddy. “Do I want to know what it is?”

“Probably not. But I’m going to tell you anyway. They call their group DOA.”

Mark choked on his beer. “Dead On Arrival?” He coughed and sputtered as he tried to assimilate the information. “Good God, Sam, what are they planning?”

“They just have a sick sense of humor. The letters actually stand for Damn O’Grady’s Ass.”

“Oh.” Mark was relieved, but not a lot.

“I wouldn’t ignore the implication of those three letters if I were you. I’m sure they didn’t choose them at random. I think Deborah mentioned something about having T-shirts printed up.” Sam took a long swallow of his beer.

Mark followed suit. This subject was giving him the willies. He’d felt like a heel each time he’d called off an impending wedding, and he’d certainly wanted his prospective brides to seek comfort in whatever way they could. But he’d never imagined that they’d band together against him.

“I don’t think you can afford to screw up again, buddy,” Sam said. “It wouldn’t be good for your health.”

“Well, I’m not going to screw up. Your idea about using Texas Men to find a woman who’s really suited to me, and me to her, was a damned good one. Charlie and I have been writing back and forth for—what, three months now?”

“About that.”

Mark patted his shirt pocket. “I know her better than I ever knew any of the others—until it was too late, that is. I know she’s a morning person like me, but she needs her coffee. She’s not anal but she likes to keep her place picked up. She loved Survivor, hated Big Brother. Even her job is perfect for me—an outdoor adventure guide.”

“That is one of her good points, I agree. I’ve said that from the beginning. You kept dating these financial types you met at the office.”

“Right. I wasn’t working a big enough area. The magazine changed that, and now I have Charlie, who’s the exact right mix, sensible on the outside, but black lace and naughty thoughts underneath.”

“Hold it. How do you know about the black lace and naughty thoughts?”

Mark had a feeling he’d just revealed too much. In the past few weeks, the correspondence had heated up considerably. “Just a guess. Come to think of it, I probably read too much into her comments.”

“Like hell. Come on, Mark. What did she say?”

Time to backpedal, and fast. “Not much, really. I think she’s shy, actually. Probably would be slow to warm up.” He didn’t think that for a minute. From the tone of her most recent letters, she had an instant on switch. He could hardly wait to trip it.

“Uh-huh.” Sam’s expression was grim. “I get the picture. No wonder you’re so ready to meet her. Mr. Happy wants to meet her, too. That’s your other problem. You’re a washout at celibacy.”

He was, but he didn’t want to admit that he’d been dreaming about making love to Charlie McPherson for weeks. That would only confirm Sam’s opinion that he couldn’t go to Austin alone. “This isn’t only about sex. We like the same things. Not a single one of my fiancées wanted to go camping with me. Charlie would love to go camping.” And he could hardly wait to get her alone in a cozy tent.

“What’s this about camping? I thought you were going to ask her to dinner first.”

“Well, dinner, or…I don’t know. Camping would be nice.”

“It would be a disaster! I know you, and you would not stay in your own little pup tent. No. Camping is out. O-U-T, out.” Sam took a quick drink of his beer and glared at him.

Mark shrugged. “It was just an idea.”

“A bad idea. Some guys can handle getting physical early in the relationship without losing their perspective on the situation. Take me, for instance. I’ve never proposed to a woman after making love to her the first time. With you, it’s like an orgasm kills off half your brain cells. One night of nooky and you’re headed for the altar. It’s the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I admit I’ve made that mistake a few times.”

“No kidding.”

Mark sighed. “I’ve always moved too quick on this proposing business. I can see that now.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Then you’ll let me go with you to Austin and make sure you don’t screw this one up.”

The very thought of dragging Sam along made Mark cringe. “Now, Sam, how’s that gonna look? No telling what she’ll think if I have to bring my best friend along when I go to meet her for the first time. She’ll think I don’t trust my own judgment, or I’m lacking in confidence. It’s the wrong way to start out.”

Sam shrugged. “Then do it your way. I’m sure Jack will agree to be your best man. Maybe I’ll tell him to bite the bullet and buy a tux. I’d be money ahead if I’d done that instead of renting one each time. And he can forget about writing a wedding toast. Talk about a waste. On the other hand, he should remember to bring a big box of tissues to the ceremony. No, make that two big boxes. One wasn’t enough for this last disaster, by the time I’d passed them out to Deborah, her four bridesmaids, her mother, her—”

“Okay, okay! So you’re going with me to Austin.” But how he’d manage to make a good impression on Charlie under such circumstances was beyond him. It would be a damned awkward visit.

Perhaps he could come up with a good cover story…

Sam smiled. “That’s more like it. You know, I could go for a hamburger. Want a hamburger?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I’ll go find our waitress.”

“Okay.” While he was gone Mark started brainstorming. He’d pulled a few excellent stunts in his college days. Like the time he and Sam had both wanted to date the same girl their senior year. Mark had gone in drag to the cafeteria and confided in this girl that Mark O’Grady had spent two years in China learning lovemaking secrets from the geishas. Sam never had a chance after that.

Hey, wait a minute. What if Sam needed a blind date when he went down to Austin? What if he was afraid to ask anybody out, because…because the woman he’d been dating had turned out to be a man. Perfect. So then Mark could ask Charlie to come up with a date for Sam, to get him back on track. While Sam was kept busy with her, Mark could get busy with Charlie. Brilliant.

Sam returned and slid into the booth. “I’m glad you came to your senses about taking me along to Austin.”

Mark smiled, feeling much better about the situation now. “I can’t have a wedding without you being my best man.” That was certainly true. If Sam wasn’t standing up at the altar with him, it wouldn’t seem like he was really getting married. Of course, he never really had gotten married. But this time would be different. He could feel it.

“You sure look perky all of a sudden,” Sam said.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m going to meet the woman of my dreams.”

Gazing at him over the top of his beer bottle, Sam cleared his throat. “Mark, old buddy, one of your more endearing traits is your eternal optimism. But I want you to entertain the possibility that Charlie is not the one.”

“But she is.”

“I hope so, but the truth is we might have to put another ad in Texas Men and troll for more prospects. Because I’m not—I repeat, not—going through this again until I’m convinced that you won’t back out at the last minute.”

“I’m telling you, I won’t back out. Charlie’s the real deal.”

“That remains to be seen. Go ahead and set up the weekend, but remember that there will be no getting horizontal with your darling Charlie if I have anything to say about it. You need to get to know her really well before that happens.”

“But I do know her!”

“Only what she tells you in the letters, pal.” Sam sipped his beer. “Only what she tells you in the letters.”