Deadly Dosage (33 page)

     “Nice,”
he said with a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth. “Very convincing. You
lie often?”

“Only when necessary,” I said, finishing with another yawn.
My mind drifted to the pile of dirty clothes on his bathroom floor. “I don’t
have any clothes to wear.”

     “I
don’t see that as a problem.”

     “You
wouldn’t,” I laughed. “Guess I’ll put on my dress. Can’t be too bad, can it?”

     “I
looked. It’s a caramel mess. You can borrow my sweats for the drive back to
your apartment. No one will see you.”

     “So,
how should we spend the day?”

     “In
bed?” he asked, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

     “Before
or after breakfast?” I teased.

     He
lay down on the bed next to me and pushed my long bangs out of my eyes. “Both,”
he said pulling me into an embrace. His kiss sent tingles all the way down to
my toes.

     “You
kiss rather well,” I said returning his kiss.

     “I
do a lot of things rather well,” he said moving against me with another, deeper
kiss.

     “That’s
what I’m afraid of,” I replied breathlessly. “Lloyd, you’re dangerous to be
around. How is it I always end up in bed with you?” I propped myself up on my
elbow facing him and tracing the length of this finely sculpted arm with my
fingertips.

     “If
it turns out good, why question it? Are you asking me to back off?”

     “No.”
I looked down, my right hand twisting the corner of the pillow. “Forget it, it
doesn’t matter.”

“Hey, everything you think and say matters.”

“It does?” Sam most definitely did not share that opinion. I
closed my eyes and spit it out. “I know actions speak louder than words but I’m
not a bimbo, okay?”

      He
lifted my chin. “Sunny, never for a moment did I think that. Did I make you
feel that way?”

     “No,
I just—”

     “Sunny,
we’re two consenting adults. There’s nothing wrong with expressing our mutual
attraction for each other physically, though it’s been much more than that for
me from the beginning.”

     He
kissed me again and held me close, his heat radiating outward, warming my
entire body. I suddenly wondered how I could have told Sam I loved him the
previous morning when I never enjoyed this type of security with him.

     “Want
some breakfast?” he asked releasing me.

     “Un
huh. How about if you shower and I make you breakfast for a change.”

     “I
already showered, sleepy head,” he said getting out of bed.

     “Oh.
Well, I can still fix breakfast.”

     “Later
you can impress me with your culinary skills. Right now, take a shower while I
throw something together. I want to take you shopping.”

     “You
like shopping?” I asked surprised.

     “I’m
a guy. I hate it. But I owe you a new dress, so I’ll endure.”

     “Brandi
owes me the dress, not you.”

     “She
can buy you one too. Now stop talking and hop in the shower before I take
advantage of you being in my bed.”

“Okay then, go. I don’t happen to have anything on at the
moment.”

“Not like I haven’t seen it before,” he said with a wink, before
strolling out of the room.

When I
finished showering, I wrapped a towel around me and found Lloyd’s clothes
spread out on the bed for me. He provided a gray sweatshirt, gray sweatpants,
and a pair of white crew socks. Good thing I wore boots the previous night,
because heels and sweatpants were a totally unacceptable ensemble.

     The
sweatshirt worked out; however, the pants, even with a thirty-inch waist, fell
off my hips. I put on the socks and decided the sweatshirt could work as a mini
dress, as it fell to at least three inches past my butt.

     “Aren’t
you missing something?” Lloyd asked as I entered the kitchen.

     “I
didn’t have suspenders to hold the pants up. Unless you plan on fattening me up
before we leave.”

     “The
mini dress look suits you. I just don’t want you to be cold.”

     “I’ll
be fine. My coat reaches the top of my knees and my boots cover the rest of my
legs.”

     “By
the way, I cleaned the flan off your coat last night after you passed out on
the couch.”

     “That
was awfully sweet of you.”

“It’s not like I had anything better to do.”

“Poor baby,” I pouted. I walked over, threw my arms around
his shoulders, and kissed him.

“If you keep pressing yourself up against me like this I can
promise you we won’t be going anywhere.”  I released my arms and stretched the
remaining sleepiness out. “No, I’d rather make you wait.”

     “Give
a wolf a taste?”

     “You
love it. So what’s for breakfast? Kippers and Earl Grey tea?”

     “You’ll
have to settle for peanut butter toast with coffee, or” he opened the refrigerator
door and looked in. “Coffee. Sorry. Out of milk and juice.”

     “I’m
not picky.”

     Rufus
walked in and started crunching on the food in his dish. He ignored us both.

     I
spread the peanut butter on the bread, while Lloyd poured the coffee. “It’s
nice to have a day off. Sometimes I can barely get out of bed thinking about
going to work. Never planned to be a bookkeeper. Do you like what you’re
doing?”

     “It
could be worse. I enjoy the flexibility of my hours and meeting people. It pays
the bills”

     “Ever
want to do anything else? What did you go to school for?”

     He
drank some coffee. “Toast is ready.”

     “Oh.”
I took the last two pieces, applied the peanut butter, and set them on his
plate. I sat down to eat and waited for his reply.

     “Graduated
with a B.S. in Pharmacology & Toxicology from UW-Madison. I planned to be a
pharmacist.”

     “Wow.
What happened?”

     “Classes
were hard to get and I got anxious to start making money. It would have taken
another two or three years of schooling.”

     “Ever
regret it?” I watched his expression to see if it matched his response. You
could learn a lot from body language.

     He
swallowed his toast, looked around the room, and settled his eyes on Rufus.
“Yeah.” He glanced up at me. “How about you?”

     “Got
my B.S. in Business Administration from UWM. My problem is I lack focus and
ambition.” I finished a slice of toast and washed it down with a gulp of hot
coffee. “Maybe we just end up where we’re supposed to be and we shouldn’t worry
about it or have any regrets.”

     “You
may be right. Not only are you cute and sexy, you’re wise.”

     “Really?
I get lucky once in a while.”

     “Are
you always so self-depreciating?” he asked with assessing eyes.

     He
made me nervous, so I licked some gobs of peanut butter off my fingers. “No.” I
took my plate to the sink. I could feel him watching me, so I turned around.
“All done?”

     He
didn’t respond immediately.

“Lloyd?” I asked. He apparently zoned out on me.

     “I’m
sorry, what?”

     “Finished?”

     “Oh,
uh huh.” He got up, put his plate and cup in the sink, and turned off the
coffee maker. “I just need to start the car and clean Rufus’s litter box.”

     “I’ll
clean it for you. Just go start the car.”

     “You
don’t have to.”

     “I
know that.”

     “It’s
in the room to the right. You can’t miss it.”

     Lloyd
put on his jacket and grabbed his keys from the counter. I remembered seeing
the litter box in his office when I sneaked a peek on my last visit.

     Rufus
had been a busy boy. Pew! And messy. Litter covered the floor. I scooped the
clumps of waste and dumped them in a trash liner kept in a nearby wastepaper
basket and retied the bag. I found a broom in the kitchen, swept up the litter,
and released it back into the litter box. No sense wasting it.

     I
stopped in the bathroom to wash my hands and retrieve my clothing from the
floor. By the time Lloyd came back in, I was ready to go.

Chapter
39

There
were few occupied spaces in my apartment parking lot when we arrived. A tinge
of guilt entered my consciousness. Tomorrow, everyone at work would be asking
if I felt better.

I let us in my apartment, relieved to see Brandi had already
vacated the premises. She left a mess in the kitchen and a scribbled note that
we were out of milk. I crumbled it in my hand and tossed it in the garbage can,
scoring two points.

     “Make
yourself at home. I have some stuff in the fridge if you’re thirsty.” I passed
him the remote. “Stereo’s over there along with my collection of CDs. Mind if I
take another shower?”

“No, go ahead. I can entertain myself.”

I grinned. “Just wash your hands afterwards.”

“Quite the comedian. Now get going before it’s noon.”

 Leaving him to his own devices, I walked to the bathroom. I
seriously needed to shave my hairy legs and armpits. If only my hair on my head
grew as fast as the hair on the rest of my body. Of course, it might help my
ego to smell like a woman again.

Without skipping on the primping, I went as quickly as I
could. For once, I wanted him to see me at my best. That required extra
mascara, liner, eye shadow, and lipstick. When I was satisfied, I returned to
my bedroom to dress.

Guitar music filtered in through my bedroom door and I tried
to place the name of the song. I selected the outfit Sam said I looked gorgeous
in, curious to see if Lloyd agreed. A touch of strategically placed cologne and
the insertion of gold posts in my ears and a last check in the mirror. I smiled
to my reflection and wiped lipstick off my teeth.

My jaw dropped opened when I entered the living room. Lloyd
was jamming on my pearl, Fender electric guitar I bought when I was in my ‘I want
to be a musician’ stage. I got as far as strumming and chord recognition in the
teach-yourself guitar booklet before giving up.

He looked up shortly after I entered the living room and
stopped playing. “Hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t resist.”

“Omigod! You sounded fantastic! I thought you were playing
one of my CDs.”

He gave me a toothy smile that made him even more handsome.
“Not really, I’m out of practice. Have you been playing long?”

“Me?” I blushed in embarrassment. “Let’s just say I’ve been
playing for years in fantasyland.”

     He
smiled. “I’ve been playing for twenty years. Started out on the bass when I was
a kid. A couple years of lessons. Mostly I taught myself.”

     “That’s
a long time. Ever play in a band?”

“A few. High school, college. I formed a band a few years ago
with a group of guys from work, playing classic to hard rock. Band’s name is
Deadly Dosage. Haven’t played with them lately though.”

     “Why
not?”

     “Lauren
kept showing up at our gigs, making a nuisance of herself. It got old real
fast.”

     “You
have to expect weird groupies when you’re a hot rock star, right?”

“I guess,” he chuckled.

“I swear I’ve heard of your group. Do you sing too?”

     “I
do lead vocals on most of our songs.”

     “Really?
I want to hear. Sing something.” I dug through my stack of CDs. “Here,” I said,
turning on the stereo and pushing in a CD. “I like this song, “Street of Dreams,”
by Rainbow. Do you know it?”

     “I
know it. Great song to play but I don’t remember the lyrics.”

     I
sighed and opened the CD door taking it back out and sliding it in its case.
“Well, here, take this with you and learn it. Then play it for me at your next
gig.”

     “We’ll
see,” he said without commitment. “You shouldn’t waste this beautiful
instrument,” he said unplugging the amp and putting the guitar back in its
stand. “You want private lessons? My rate is cheap.”

     “I
bet,” I said with my hands on my hips. “How much?”

     “One
load of laundry per lesson.”

     I
crossed my arms. “That’s a little steep. Try again.”

     “Um,
one home cooked meal per lesson,” he said. “You can cook, can’t you?”

     “Guess
you’ll find out. Tell you what, I’ll agree to your price providing you start
playing with your band again AND you learn that song and play it for me in
front of an audience. And I don’t mean Rufus.”

     He
chuckled. “If the other band members agree to learn the song. Fair enough?”

     “I
promise a night to remember if you sing it for me.”

     “Don’t
make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

     “But
I do intend to keep my promise. Is it a deal?” I held out my hand. “But I have
to be honest, teaching me won’t be easy.”

     He
shook it. “Sunny, you’ll do fine. It just takes patience.”

     It
was my turn to laugh. “You are talking to the wrong girl.”

     He
raised his eyebrows. “In this case, maybe the teacher needs the patience?”

“Let’s just say you’ll probably want to hit me over the head
with the guitar after our first lesson. My temper can flare easily. Just
remember this before striking; I’m really mad at myself, not you.”

     “I’m
willing to try but you’ll have to rein in that temper.” He kissed me. “I’ll
have to show you my ax later. If you’re real nice, I’ll let you play it, unless
you want to play with something else.”

“You pig,” I said laughing.

He smiled wide. “Just being friendly. Mind if I borrow some
of these CDs? I like your taste in music. Not what I expected.”

“No? Figured I liked crappy pop music? Go ahead and take
whatever you want. The quality might not be the best. I burned most of them off
the computer or my dad’s CDs.”