Jennifer Crusie

Strange Bedpersons


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just an instant, giving herself just a second of his warmth before she ripped into him as he so richly deserved. But before she could retaliate he let her go and again headed for her tiny kitchen. “God, this place is a mess,” he said. “Is any of my beer still in the fridge?” He stepped over the cat as it made for Tess’s lap. “Hello, Angela. Try not to shed on me.”

      Tess looked at Gina.

      “Definitely time to talk to the body,” Gina said. “If you’d had an apron on, you woulda ripped it off.”

      Tess jerked on the hem of her sweatshirt and lowered her chin, trying to psych herself into being impressive. “You’ve been rejected,” she called to Nick. “Leave.”

      “You can’t reject a proposal you’ve never heard,” Nick said from the kitchen.

      “You’re proposing?” Tess said in disbelief. “I don’t believe it.”

      Gina’s eyebrows shot up. “Marriage?” she whispered to Tess around her gum. “Grab him.”

      “Of course not marriage,” Tess said to Gina. “What are you proposing?” she asked Nick. “Whatever it is, the answer is no, of course, but I like to know what I’m rejecting.”

      “Well, not marriage.” Nick came to lean in the doorway with his beer, smiling at her, solidly attractive, boyishly confident and infinitely desirable. Stop it, Tess told herself, and narrowed her eyes at him.

      “I need a date for the weekend,” he said, and widened his grin. “I thought of you first.”

      “Why?” Tess said, trying to stomp on the little sizzle that had started inside her when he smiled at her.

      “Because I need you,” Nick said. “My life has been empty since you walked out.” He twisted the cap off the beer and began to drink.

      “Your life has never been empty, even after I walked out.” Tess swung her gaze to Gina. “I picked him up at the airport one day, and the stewardess kissed him goodbye. You’d have thought he was going off to war. She did everything but offer to have his baby right there on the spot.”

      Nick choked on his beer. “She was just a friend,” he said, swallowing. “I’m a friendly guy.”

      “I realize that,” Tess said, crossing her arms. “Get out.”

      “Tess, honey.” Nick leaned forward and smiled at her. “Sweetie. Baby.”

      “Boy, you must really be in trouble,” Tess said.

      “Up to my neck,” Nick said. “I need you. One weekend. No strings.”

      “No sex,” Tess said, ignoring her body. “That offer will not be repeated.”

      “Whatever you say,” Nick agreed. “If that’s the way you want it, no sex.”

      Tess turned to Gina. “This must be bad. I think he really is in trouble.”

      “So of course you gotta save him.” Gina smiled shyly at Nick. “I’m all for it. For once those dogooder instincts of hers are gonna do her some good.”

      “You know, I always liked you,” Nick said to Gina, and she blushed with pleasure.

      “Actually I don’t care if I save him or not, but if I go with him this weekend, I’ll get to watch,” Tess said. “If it’s really big trouble, I may feel avenged for that war bride of a stewardess.”

      “You’re all heart,” Nick said to her.

      “Although it won’t make up for the night you stood me up at the Foundation benefit.” Tess made a face. “And definitely not for that night you turned me down in the Music Hall parking lot. I know women who’d be slashing your tires and poisoning your beer for that night alone.”

      Nick started and glanced down at the bottle in his hand.

      Tess studied him with a sinking heart and rising heat. He was easily the most attractive thing in her apartment. In fact, he was easily the most attractive thing in her life. Of course, looks were superficial. Especially on Nick who had more faces than Sybil.

      She cast an uncertain look at Gina, still stretched out on the couch.

      Gina cracked her gum. “Do it.”

      “Maybe.” Tess turned back to Nick. “Give me the details. And this better be good.”

      “It’s terrible,” Nick said.

      Gina swung her legs to the floor, winced and stood up. “This sounds like my exit cue.”

      “No, it isn’t,” Tess said at the same time Nick said, “Thank you. You have terrific instincts.”

      “Hey.” Tess said, but Gina picked up her purse.

      “I have to be going, anyway,” she told Tess. “I love you, but I don’t want to hang out in your neighborhood after dark, and I really need more of this muscle stuff on my legs. Call me later and tell me everything.”

      “You know, that’s an intelligent woman,” Nick said when she was gone.

      “That’s the woman you said was wasting her life in tights,” Tess reminded him.

      Nick winced. “I didn’t exactly say that. I said that dancing wasn’t much of a career, and she was going to be in trouble someday if she didn’t plan ahead.”

      “Well, some people live for the moment.” Tess flopped back into her chair and tried to forget that Gina was in trouble right now because she hadn’t planned ahead. One of the more annoying things about Nick was that he was often right.

      “I was wrong. I’m sorry.” Nick opened his mouth to go on, but Tess shook her head.

      “Forget it. I’m in a bad mood and I’m taking it out on you. Now, explain this mess to me.” She craned her neck to look up at him. “But don’t explain it looming over me.” She waved him to the floor. “Sit.” She watched him slide down the wall beside her chair to sit at her feet, his broad body graceful even in collapse. She grinned at him. “This is good. You understand the basic commands.”

      “Come down here with me and I’ll roll over,” Nick said, and Tess felt her pulse flutter.

      “Go away,” she said.

      “Forget I said that,” Nick said. “That was my evil twin.”

      “The only evil twin you have is that twit you work for,” Tess said.

      “Funny, you should mention Park…” Nick began again.

      IT HADN’T SEEMED like a disaster to Nick when he’d walked blithely into his office at Patterson and Patterson a couple of hours earlier. Walking into Patterson and Patterson always made him feel good, anyway. There was something about the ambiance of grossly expensive imported mahogany paneling, grossly expensive imported Oriental carpets, grossly expensive antique furniture and moderately expensive secretarial help at his beck and call that made him feel like a robber baron. And that afternoon, life had been especially good: an important and unexpectedly swift victory in court, a grateful client and an afternoon that was suddenly his to spend any way he wanted. If the lettering on the door had only said Patterson, Patterson and Jamieson, life would have been perfect.

      Then things started to go downhill.

      “I’m back, Christine,” he’d said to his secretary.

      Christine looked up at him, beautifully brunette but only marginally interested.

      “No, don’t get up,” he said on his way into his office. “I can find my way.”

      Christine drifted to her feet and followed him, giving the impression she’d been going that way, anyway. “Mr. Patterson was in today,” she told him. “And Park wants to see you.”

      “You put that well.” Nick shrugged off his jacket and