on to s’mores for dessert, made over the still smoking grill, Marcia asked, “So, Lulu, what was our Chaz like as a boy?”
Lulu had just sipped a mouthful of wine, and she swallowed quickly, swinging her gaze toward him. He gave a not-so-subtle warning shake of his head.
“Remember, I’m a writer. Any story you can tell, I can tell better,” he threatened.
She laughed softly, her brown eyes sparkling in the low light cast from the grill and from a small, warming blaze burning in the fire pit. Her lips were stained red from the wine she’d been drinking, and her hair had blown loose of its ponytail, several strands whipping across her face.
Damn, she was beautiful. If she were anyone else— absolutely anyone—she might even be tempting enough to console him over the apparent loss of his mystery woman.
“Well, Chaz was...”
“A loser,” he interjected.
She glared at him. “A sweetheart. The nicest boy in town.”
He made a rude noise and rolled his eyes. “I don’t remember you thinking that when you called me a doody-head because I wouldn’t let you ride my new bike on Christmas morning.”
“I was five,” she said. “And I was the doody-head for assuming you should give up your brand-new bike to the brat next door.”
“She’s right,” said Peggy, obviously amused.
“I might not have told you,” Lulu admitted, “but I certainly thought you were the nicest kid I knew.” She qualified her answer, offering the group a sheepish smile. “At least...some of the time. Other times, I thought he was a butthead.”
He raised his glass. “Here’s to the first honest thing you’ve said.”
She raised hers, as well, laughter dancing in her eyes.
After sipping, he jumped in, not wanting her to get the upper hand. “As for Lulu, she was a holy terror.”
“No,” Marcia protested.
“I don’t believe that,” said Florence. “She’s so quiet, barely a peep from upstairs. I worried when she moved in, thinking such a pretty girl would be bringing the men around at all hours of the night, but there’s never a sound from her bedroom, which is right above ours.” She reached out and patted Lulu’s hand. “She’s a good girl.”
Color rose in Lulu’s cheeks as everyone tried to hide their snorts of laughter. Florence, older and maybe a bit naive, didn’t appear to realize her compliment had included a back-handed insult. She looked around in confusion, even as Lulu sunk lower in her seat as everyone speculated on her lack of a sex life.
Chaz caught her eye and offered her a genuine smile. Then he mouthed something only she would understand.
Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah.
Their stares locked, and she suddenly laughed with him, the sound infectious, her smile breathtaking.
He was seeing her in a much different light than he’d ever expected to, and he didn’t just mean physically, though the physical was definitely potent.
Not that anything could come of it, obviously. The family connection alone would make it impossible for them to try anything beyond friendship, if either of them were interested in that, which he doubted.
When the gathering began to break up, he stayed behind to help clean up. Everybody in the building had brought down something, and then left with what they’d brought. Lulu’s contribution had apparently been the plates and silverware. The dishes were all dirty now, and there was no way she could carry all of them up to her place, so he stepped in.
“I’ll help Lulu take this up,” he offered, clearing one end of the table.
“Thanks, Chaz, we’re loaded down,” said Peggy. She gestured toward her wife. “And that one’s not allowed to carry anything more than a spoon.”
Smiling at each other tenderly, the other two women headed inside with platters of leftovers, leaving him and Lulu alone to finish up.
“They’re great, aren’t they?” she mused.
“Yeah, they’re the best,” he said. “Peggy and Marcia were the first neighbors I met when I moved in, and they helped me unpack boxes for a week.”
“They did the same thing for me. I appreciated the help—and I appreciate yours now,” she said. “I’d hate to make three trips since I live on the second floor.”
He could have been nice and not taken a swing at the pitch she’d thrown. But he just couldn’t resist. “Yeah, I heard you lived on the second floor. Your room is right above Florence’s.”
She scowled and threw a wadded-up napkin in his face.
“Okay, sorry, I didn’t hear a word Florence said,” he claimed with a wicked grin.
“As if she’d hear anything, anyway,” Lulu said, tossing her head, which shook free her ponytail, sending her dark hair tumbling down her back. “I happen to have a very new bed with quiet springs.”
He supposed she was trying to salvage her pride, but he wasn’t focused on that. For some reason, the idea of Lulu bouncing around in bed with a man was enough to make him stop laughing.
It’s just because you’re not used to thinking of her as a grown woman. You’re still picturing the girl next door, the one who wore angel’s wings and a halo in her second grade Christmas pageant, making all the other kids laugh because Lulu was anything but angelic.
Yeah. That was it. Totally.
It had nothing to do with her delicious-looking body, that amazing mouth, all that thick, dark hair that he could suddenly envision being spread across his naked stomach.
Jeez, he really needed to get a grip. More, he needed to find the woman he’d met Friday night. Sexual frustration was making him think the craziest thoughts about someone he should never consider in that way.
“I could give Florence something to listen to,” she muttered, still obviously disgruntled about her neighbor’s comments. “Something that would have her reaching for her earplugs and praying for my soul.”
“Gonna download porn from the internet and set the speaker by the air vent?”
She glared at him. “Some men actually find me attractive, you know.”
He didn’t doubt it. Physically, she was mouthwatering. It was the nonphysical part that was the problem.
“And I don’t need porn.”
“Nobody needs porn,” he said philosophically. “But it can be kinda fun on occasion.”
She licked her lips, her lashes dropping over those brown eyes. “Speaking from experience?” she asked, her voice probably not as cool and noncommittal as she’d been going for.
He kept his answer just as cool. “Maybe.”
“And here I pegged you as the big stud, women in every town.”
He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation, but since they were, he decided to finish it. “Porn’s not just for lonely guys who have no friends other than Hairy Palmer.” Remembering the highlights from Friday night, he added, “You’ve never thought about watching other people have sex? Or of being watched yourself?”
“You mean, intentional exhibitionism?”
He nodded. She caught her lip between her teeth and shook her head violently. “Never,” she swore, though he suspected she was lying to them both.
He had, on occasion, enjoyed watching sex, via hotel movie rentals and adventurous internet surfing. But until the other night in that savings and loan lobby, and then later up against that tree, he’d never even dreamed of someone watching him with