Looking for You (10 page)

"Eve's at Romantic
Notions," Maggie said before Gwen could ask. "She's preparing for a
hot date with Treat. Although a pajama date with Treat would be hot."

"Tell me about it."
Although she'd never been bowled over by Treat the way all other women were.
She saw his bad boy appeal, and he
did
have a fine posterior, but he wasn't as hot as Rick. The first time she'd met
Rick, his pheromones had made her blather like an idiot. Then he insulted her
and she got over her tongue-tied-ness.

She smiled fondly. They still played
annoyed with each other sometimes. It was fun sparring with him.

Getting a chocolate chip Madeleine
for the road, Gwen said goodbye to Maggie and headed to Olivia's lingerie
store.

When she stepped into Romantic
Notions, like always, she felt like she'd walked into her best friend's
bedroom. Dressers with open drawers, colorful waterfalls of silk spilling out
of them. Frothy piles of lace on whitewashed tables, soft drapery, and velvet
chairs with pillows. It was brilliant, the way the store pulled a customer in,
wrapped her in silk and warmth, and dared her to embrace her sensuality.

Olivia looked up from the rack she
was sorting through. "Hey. This is a surprise."

"Maggie said Eve was over here,
and I needed a break so I thought I'd come visit."

Eve's voice sounded from the fitting
room. "You came just in time."

Olivia grinned. "I have this new
set that was perfect for Eve."

Eve poked her head out from the
velvet curtain. "She means it's perfect for Treat. A good saleswoman knows
who the real customer is."

"So how is it?"

"It makes me look like I have
boobs. Treat is going to love this, both on and taking it off." Winking,
Eve ducked back into the dressing room.

Gwen looked down at her chest. She
never wore anything beyond a camisole, and Rick seemed to enjoy finding her
bare underneath. Would he enjoy finding a surprise underneath?

She turned to Olivia. "Do you
have anything that might look good on me?"

Olivia blinked in surprise but
recovered quickly. "I have the perfect thing. Hold on."

As Olivia went to fetch it, Gwen
ambled over to a table that held a black corset thing that might have doubled
as a torture device. Frowning, she picked it up and inspected it from all
angles. Women willingly wore things like this? The price of pleasing a lover,
she supposed.

Olivia came back holding out a bright
piece of fluff in her hand. "Try this on, but I'm pretty sure it'll
fit."

"How about this?" She held
up the black corset.

"No, that's so wrong for
you." Olivia wrinkled her nose. "You like that?"

She shrugged. "I'm a blank
canvas when it comes to lingerie."

"Well, black's not on your
palette." She handed over the lacy things in her hands. "Try these
on. They're much more suited to you."

"Trust her, Gwen," Eve said
as she emerged clothed from the dressing room. "She knows her stuff."

They were, she realized a couple
minutes later in the dressing room. They were perfect. She looked at herself
from all angles in the full-length mirror. A bright orange, the set made her
skin look creamy and brought out the glints of copper she'd added to her hair a
couple weeks before.

Even better, it was amazingly
comfortable—not at all pokey or itchy like she remembered underwear to
be. The cups were soft and without underwire, cut low. The thin straps looked
delicate and almost insubstantial. The panties were no less invasive, wispy and
delicate, alluring in their partial coverage.

And she looked
sexy
. She could see the darkened area of her nipple through the
lace and somehow that made it look more alluring than if she was nude.

She tried to imagine Rick's reaction
when he saw it. He'd like it. A lot.

Getting dressed, she stepped out of
the dressing room to find both Olivia and Eve waiting, expectant looks on their
faces. She smiled and held it out. "I'll take it."

Eve grinned. "Want to tell us
what his name is?"

She felt her face flush. "What
makes you think a man is involved?"

"Because you don't like
lingerie," Olivia said as she took the lingerie.

"I like lingerie." At their
disbelieving looks, she added, "In theory."

Olivia began wrapping it in tissue
paper. "Is it Rick?"

If her face was burning before, it
was completely in flames now. She put her hands to her cheeks. "Is it that
obvious?"

"Yes." Olivia grinned.
"But it was obvious from the first time you guys met."

"You acted like first graders
with a crush," Eve said with an amused smile. "He all but pulled on
your pigtails."

"It's not anything
serious," she said quickly, so they wouldn't get the wrong impression.
"We're just..."

"Playing?" Olivia offered
with a sly grin.

"Yes." She frowned.
"It's weird."

Eve leaned against the counter next
to her. "Why? Because he wants you? You're pretty and smart. The only
reason you don't have men all over you is because you have a wall around
you."

"Rick obviously had the
equipment to scale it, though," Olivia said with a wink, handing her the
little bag.

She didn't mention that he'd scaled
it many times in the past few weeks. In fact, she hoped he'd climb again
tonight.

Things had shifted between them. He
hadn't said it in uncertain terms, but she thought he trusted her a little more
now. Not completely, but she told herself that wasn't important. What
was
important was that it didn't appear
as though he was investigating her. She knew they had a deal, but she hadn't
thought he'd hold up his end. He was too curious a person.

Even if he were still investigating,
if he were going to discover anything, he would have by now. He was too good
not to. And if he hadn't uncovered anything yet, it meant that she'd covered
her tracks well enough to be protected.

Was she deluding herself into a false
sense of security?

Did it matter? They couldn't
last—not without her telling him about her past, and she couldn't do
that. She couldn't tell anyone.

"What's wrong?" Olivia
asked, ever astute.

"Nothing." She smiled to
cover her emotions, the way her mother had taught when she was a child.
"What do I owe you?"

"It's a gift." Her friend
held her hand up. "Don't protest. Think of me like a drug dealer. I have
to get you hooked so you come back for more product."

"Even if she doesn't get hooked,
Rick
definitely will," Eve said
with a sly grin.

"I hope so." She stayed to
talk a few more minutes, but her mind was on Rick and the fact that her nights
with him were numbered.

~

Rick drove
them to Gwendolyn's, anticipating getting her home and naked. The other part of
him was very happy sitting quietly with her, just holding her hand.

He was
clearly losing it.

Of course
he was losing it. He shook his head, thinking about how distracted he'd been
during the day. He'd been putting together a background check for a client and
all he'd been able to think about was her lush lips and her springy hair
tickling his nose as they cuddled.

As if
sensing his need for diversion, she asked with that caustic edge that made him
want to both spank and kiss her, "How was your day, honey?"

He glanced
at her. "Long."

"And
hard?" she asked with a smirk.

"You
wish."

"I
know
," she murmured with a flush.
She cleared her throat. "You didn't tell me about your day."

"It
was the usual."

"Peeking
into women's bedroom's?"

There was
only one woman's bedroom he was interested in, and he fully planned on being
completely inside it, not looking in from the outside. "One time, I caught
a wife I was surveilling having an affair with the nanny."

"That
must have made your day."

"My
month."

She pursed
her lips. "Is
surveilling
really
a verb?"

"It should
be." He pulled into a parking spot a block from her apartment and they
exited the vehicle.

She took
his hand again. "Come on."

"Where?"
he asked when she walked away from her street.

"I'd
planned on going swimming."

He
remembered her in that tiny yellow bikini and went semi-hard on the spot.
"I don't have a swimming suit."

"Do
you need one?"

He almost
groaned out loud, thinking about being in the water, with her naked in his
arms. His fingers itched to touch her all over, to plunder her.

As strong
as that incentive was, he paused outside the gate, watching her scramble easily
over the top. She pressed her face against the bars, grinning like a devious
child, her eyes sparkling with the adventure. "What are you waiting
for?"

"The
Rottweiler's and uniformed officers."

She rolled
her eyes. "I told you, Candace lets me use her pool whenever I want. I
just can't find the key."

"Plus,
it's more fun to scale the wall, right?" he said, hoisting himself up.

She grinned
at him and skipped around back.

He filed the
name Candace away, along with the house number. It was easy enough to check out
who lived there. Somehow he believed Gwendolyn was telling the truth.

A sure sign
he was losing it if there ever was one.

He rounded
the back in time to see her shrug out of her jacket and toe off her shoes. Her
back to him, she took her top off and dropped it on the pile before taking her
pants and socks off, too. Then she turned around.

The sight
took his breath away.

She stood
before him in skimpy bright orange underwear that covered and revealed both at
the same time. There was just enough light from the pool so that he didn't have
to leave anything to his imagination. Through the lace, he could see the shadow
of her nipples and the trim arrow of hair that pointed the way to heaven.

He took a
step forward.

She smiled
at him, a playful, seductive smile that made his groin tighten. "What are
you waiting for?"

She turned
again, giving him a delicious view of taut asscheeks before diving gracefully
into the pool.

He stood,
dumbfounded, watching her glide through the water like a water nymph. Shaking
off the sexual stupor, he quickly stripped down to his boxers and jumped in
too.

He came up
to find her laughing and wiping the water drops from his splash from her eyes.
He swam over to her, wrapping her in his arms.

She hooked
her legs around his waist and let him support her in the water.

Closing her
eyes, she tipped her head backwards, a smile lifting her lips. Her neck was
arched, a long graceful column in the shimmery light. Under the surface, her
orange underwear taunted him. He slipped a finger under its delicate strap and
tugged.

With a
laugh, she was suddenly out of his arms and undulating away from him.

He chased
her, less gracefully. He was a strong swimmer, but he wasn't going to win any
awards for form. Gwen, on the other hand, had great form
and
she was an excellent swimmer. Given his reach, he thought he'd
have caught her right away, but she evaded him, her delighted laughter taunting
him.

It made him
smile too.

After playing
for a while, she let him catch her. They wrestled in the water before they both
agreed they were tired and floated side-by-side, fingers touching.

"You
swim like a dolphin," he commented.

"I
love the water." Eyes closed, she smiled nostalgically. "I used to
swim all the time growing up. It was one of the only places that felt
peaceful."

"Did
you have another peaceful place?"

If he
hadn't been paying such close attention, he wouldn't have noticed the slight
hesitation she had before she said, "With my grandmother."

"Does
she live close by?"

"No."
Gwen let herself drop to tread the water. "It's a nice night."

He smiled
wryly. "I get it. I won't ask about her."

She stared
up at the sky, obviously thinking. Then she lowered her big eyes to him, open
and guileless. "No, I think I'd like to talk about her. I miss her. She
was my favorite person, my best friend."

"You
talk about her like she's gone."

Her smile
was sad. "She lives far away."

He nodded.
"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Too
long ago." She sighed. "My grandmother is the one who taught me to
swim. Actually, she taught me everything useful."

"Including
painting?"

"No,
Bob Ross taught me that."

"Bob
Ross? The dude with the afro?"

She
laughed. "I saw him on TV once, calmly painting happy trees, and I wanted
to try it. So I bought some paint and a set of his DVDs and started to
paint."

"So
Bob Ross is the reason you do gourds."

"No,
Phyllis Neumann is the reason I do gourds." She grinned. "I met
Phyllis in Taos, New Mexico. I ended up staying with her for a few months and
apprenticing, basically."

"I
didn't know you lived in New Mexico."

"Why
would you? I never told you." She looked up at the sky. "I've lived
in a lot of places."

He wanted
to ask about that, but suddenly she was in his arms. "Tell me about your
family," she said.

Holding her
loosely, he smiled as he thought about his mom and dad. "They live in
Boston. My dad's retired, which means my mom is, too. She used to run the
office and do the accounting. I think she's trying to convince him to take up
some hobby to get him out of her hair."

Gwen
grinned. "I hear bird watching is popular."

"In
Boston?"

"You're
right." She nodded. "They probably don't have birds in Boston."