Friends and Lovers (13 page)

Lauren nodded, mute, but still shaking with the giggles.

“Sorry.” He rolled off of her. “I don’t mean to crush you.”

“I’m okay,” she said, her hand pressed to her heaving chest.

“You’re better than okay.” He gave her a light kiss and shifted to his side so he could look at her, touch her, and simply enjoy the fading flush of her well-loved skin.

As their bodies slowly calmed, cooled, Wes toyed lazily with a lock of Lauren’s hair, using it like a brush to circle her nipple.

She smiled and reached out to caress his cheek. “Maybe it’s time I found out who you really are and not just rely on my fantasies.”

He leaned forward to kiss her again. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. You still aren’t real.”

Wes nudged her with his naked hip. “I beg to differ.”

Lauren laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“This could take a while.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Is that a promise?”

She nodded.

“Maybe we should get something to eat first.”

Chapter 12

Lauren tore at the lettuce and ogled Wes who was wearing nothing but his loose sweats. She loved the way they hung from his hips and clung to his muscular ass, emphasizing the perfection of his form. Her gaze traveled up his bare back, lingered on his contoured shoulders, and swept over his silky hair. She wanted to touch him, taste him again, and scatter like particles beneath him. The man was sexy as hell and now she was addicted. She just took a major step beyond obsessed. Luckily, he wasn’t scared off by it.

Wes set the peeler down and looked back at her. “Is the lettuce ready?”

“Almost.”

He picked up the shredder and walked over with the carrot in his hand. “I’m starting without you.”

She gave him a flirtatious look. “I’ll catch up.”

He growled and she laughed. Sexual innuendo was fun. Who knew?

He started shredding and she hurriedly tossed the last of the lettuce into the bowl.

“Didn’t you say you have onion?” she asked, eyeing his biceps with barely concealed lust.

“Let’s hold off on that. I don’t want to taste it on you later.”

“Spoil sport. What else have you got?”

“Grape tomatoes and there’s some cheese in the fridge.”

“That’ll work.”

“You want to whip us up some vinaigrette?”

She laughed. “Do I look like I know how to do that?”

He shrugged. “How should I know?”

“Hence this meet-and-greet session.”

“Got it.”

She stared in awe while Wes threw together a balsamic dressing then drizzled it over the salad.

“Come on, woman,” he goaded with a grin, “get tossing.”

She picked up the tongs and made a mess.

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking them out of her hands. “Why don’t you get a couple of bowls out of that cabinet over there instead?”

She went rummaging and set the table, putting a loaf of bread and butter out as well.

In no time at all, Lauren was seated across from Wes, chewing her salad in a distracted fashion, her eyes fixed on him.

Wes forked another bite into his mouth and looked up. His eyebrows rose. Swallowing, he said with resignation, “You might as well start. Hit me.”

Lauren perked up instantly. “What was it you liked about Melissa Wright?”

He stared at her, clearly perplexed. “Melissa Wright?
That’s
what you want to know first? Are you serious?”

She shrugged, grinning at him. “I have to start somewhere, and I was always curious. You stayed with her longer than any of the other girls. I just wondered what you liked about her, that’s all.”

Wes took a sip of tea and set down his glass. “Her parents were never home. It was convenient.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

She sat back in her chair, speechless for a moment while she digested this. Then she picked up her fork again. “You used her.”

He shook his head. “We used each other, every chance we got.”

Lauren blinked, not quite sure what to make of this. “But she wasn’t your girlfriend?”

His next bite of salad hovered in front of him. “Nope. She was holding out for some college guy. She wasn’t interested in me either.”

“You think you know someone,” she said, shaking her head.

“You
didn’t
know her. That’s why you’re asking.”

“But I wouldn’t have guessed she was like that. She seemed so normal.”

“She was normal.”

“But she was a slut.”

“Because she slept with me? You slept with me—twice, I might add. Does that make you slutty?”

“Of course not. But I have feelings for you.”

Wes smiled. “I kind of like you too.”

Lauren blushed. Which was harder, baring your body or baring your heart? It had to be the heart.

Wes winked. “Come on, finish up. I’m not through making a woman of you yet.”

Lauren patted her mouth with her napkin and pushed her chair back. “Would you look at that, I’m done.”

* * * *

Normally a stickler about being punctual, Lauren was twenty minutes late for work. She hoped she could put Jackie off for a little while—long enough to give her time to come up with an explanation, but those hopes were dashed. When Lauren snuck in, Jackie was waiting in her office, filing her nails with a hot cup of coffee in front of her.

“Well, would you look at what the cat dragged in,” Jackie said, her full lips pursed with amusement. “You’ve got sex written all over you, honey.”

“I do not.” Lauren tucked her purse away and rolled out her chair.

“You’ve got an aura.”

“An aura,” Lauren scoffed. “You can’t see something that isn’t there.”

“I can’t see perfume either, but I sure as hell know when someone’s wearing it.”

“Not the same thing,” Lauren said, sitting primly.

“Then explain the hickey.”

Lauren’s eye’s ballooned and her hand flew to her neck. “I don’t have a hickey.”

Jackie laughed. “Maybe not on your neck but you just gave the game away, sugar.”

Lauren leaned forward and whispered anxiously, “Is it really obvious?”

“You look alive and there’s a sparkle in your eyes I’ve never seen before. Not even when you were seeing Keith.”

“I wasn’t in love with Keith.”

“That’s the beauty secret, isn’t it? So tell me how it went?”

“I need coffee first.”

“Here, take this one. I haven’t touched it yet.” She slid the mug across the desk and Lauren took a long grateful drink.

Then Lauren set the cup down and proceeded to tell Jackie about her weekend; the emotional collapse on Saturday followed by the unexpected make-out session, the awkward meeting on Sunday, and the surprising revelation that Wes wanted her just as badly as she wanted him.

“You spent the night with him? That was fast.”

“Or slow.”

Jackie thought about it and nodded. “I see your point. Fifteen years is a long time to wait. I couldn’t do it. So how was it?”

“I’ll never be the same again.”

“It met your expectations, did it?”

“Surpassed my wildest dreams is more like it.”

Jackie chuckled softly. “Well, honey, I’m happy for you.”

“Wes liked the underwear, by the way. He wouldn’t give my panties back this morning.”

Jackie grinned and stood to leave. “The man’s got good taste. I told you to listen to me.”

“I’ll never doubt your advice again.”

* * * *

Lauren’s phone rang at ten to noon. It was Wes.

“What are you doing for lunch?” he asked.

“I’m heading over to the Black Briar Country Club to speak to their women’s group. Lunch is included.”

“Going to be in Sherry and Ken’s neck of the woods, eh? Damn. I was hoping I could meet up with you.”

Lauren smiled. “I wish I could.”

“How about tonight? I’ll pick up Chinese.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“And don’t forget to stop for clothes first.”

“You want me to stay over again?”

“If I do my part right, you’re not going to want to leave.”

“In that case, I’m going to need more than just a change of clothes. I can’t be late for work again.”

“Just bring whatever you need. I’ll see you later.” With that he hung up.

Wes could easily become a habit if she wasn’t careful.

* * * *

The Black Briar Country Club was beyond exclusive, some might say even harder to get into than the White House. It was a place where old and new money mingled to the advancement of both. Black Briar had a stringent vetting process that winnowed out the unfortunate prospects no matter how wealthy. Standards were standards, after all, and no one got a second look if they applied before they learned the finer points of taste and decorum. There would be no vulgar common language or behavior, no sloppy drunks, and no unfortunate scandals among the select. That’s not to say their members weren’t human, but they weren’t exactly cut from the same cloth as the average person either. They were elitists and quite comfortable with that.

Lauren presented her embossed invitation to the affair—was affair the proper word for a monetary shakedown?— at the security gate and eyed the immaculate greens, beds of flowers, and expensive cars and suddenly felt a little ill. She couldn’t afford to blow this. Support from these women would go a long way if she tailored her message carefully. She needed to bring out their social philanthropy without shocking or disturbing them. She didn’t want to alienate them from an important issue that concerned all women no matter what their social or economic status.

Ten minutes later Lauren was feeling very uncomfortable as she sipped her Shirley Temple and made small talk.

An elegant older woman in a silk pants suit gave Lauren a tolerant smile. “I understand you were just on television. Oprah?”

“Public access,” Lauren said with a smile of her own.

The woman’s expertly tightened face fell. “Oh. Excuse me.”

“Of course.”

* * * *

Lauren got back to the shelter just after two and collapsed into her chair. She felt drained and needed a nap. Judging by the tantrum coming from downstairs she wasn’t the only one. She made her way down there to see what she could do to help and found Jackie and the stressed-out mother trying to soothe the crying boy but he was beyond consoling.

They all looked up when Lauren walked in and she shook her head, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“That’s enough,” she said firmly and picked the boy up.

Her move startled all of them but it effectively stopped the crying. The child blinked his wet lashes at Lauren and held onto her shirt as she carried him outside on her hip. She showed him around the backyard, brought him over to the flowers so he could smell them, and pointed out birds as they tramped around. His head was bouncing tiredly against her shoulder when she carried him back inside ten minutes later.

“Do you want me to take him?” the mother asked.

“Not necessary,” Lauren whispered and settled into the rocker in the corner. The boy’s mom went back to folding a basket of clothes and Lauren rocked them both to sleep.

She woke a half an hour later with a sweaty chest and a damp drool mark on her shoulder. The boy roused himself enough to crawl down from her lap and stretch out on his stomach on the floor. He fell right back to sleep.

Lauren smiled and got up. She was stiff as she climbed the stairs.

Jackie was working at her desk. She looked up and grinned. “You’re full of surprises today.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Come see the softer side of Lauren.”

She laughed and walked into her office. “Cut it out.”

* * * *

Lauren stopped at the store on her way home. If she was going to be spending time at Wes’s place, and it certainly looked that way, she wanted her own hair products, body wash, and a second toothbrush for those nights she stayed over. She hoped he wouldn’t mind.

His car was already in the driveway when she pulled up. She knocked and he called out, “Door’s open.”

Wes wasn’t in the living room. Lauren wandered into the bedroom and dropped off her bag but he wasn’t there either. Walking through the kitchen she eventually spotted him out on the deck. The table was already set.

“Your glass of wine is on the counter,” he told her through the screen.

Lauren picked it up and joined him outside.

Wes pulled out a chair for her and Lauren lowered herself into it.

“First things first,” he said, giving her a lingering kiss.

“Mmm.” Lauren sighed and her eyes slowly opened. “That’s nice and this smells good,” she said, looking at the plate he set in front of her.

“Dig in.”

“Oh…this is good,” she said, going for another forkful. “Do you see how green this broccoli is? Tell me this place delivers?”

“Not here. I picked up the order on my way home.”

“Damn.”

Wes laughed. “But I’m glad you approve.”

“I think this just bumped pizza off my number one favorite spot.”

“I’ve got the menu on the counter inside. Just let me know what I should order for you next.”

“Speaking of which, I haven’t finished my fifty questions yet.”

“You’re kidding?”

“You wish. I’ve got lots more. You ready?”

Wes tossed his napkin onto the table and reached for his wine. “Might as well get it out of the way.”

“Music?” Lauren asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Wes’s brow furrowed in thought. “No opera, no twang, no easy listening. You?”

“Agree, agree, depends on the easy listening. I have a soft spot for pop.”

“No!”

She laughed. “Quit it. Sade?”

“Love her.”

“Isn’t she easy listening?”

“No way. She’s pure unadulterated sex.”

Lauren smiled. “I can’t argue with that.”

“Your favorite?” he said, stabbing a peapod.

“I don’t have one. I get into moods. I also like rock, jazz, classical, reggae, and world blends. How about you?”

“I guess I lean most toward adult alternative but I’m pretty open.”

“I suppose I can live with that.”

“You suppose?” he asked playfully, jostling her with his elbow.

“I can.” She took a sip of wine. “Experience you’d most like to try?”