Excerpt
For the first time in a long, long time, she was going out. To a bar. Not as part of a couple, but as a single woman.
Lord help her.
Rachel had no romantic notions about how the evening would go. She would not find the love of her life in a hole-in-the-wall bar located in the backwoods of southern Oklahoma. Hell, she might have difficulty finding someone to dance with. But Lucky was right when he told her to follow her own advice. They both needed to get out of the house and have some fun and it just so happened that Halloween provided the best of excuses to do just that.
She checked her reflection one last time in the rearview mirror before climbing out of the truck. As she walked up the front steps to Lucky’s house, the porch light flickered on and the door swung open.
“What the hell are you supposed to be?” he asked as she made her way inside.
Really? How on earth did he not know who she was? Her costume was perfect. From her berry red curls to her berry high heels. And the bodice of her dress made her boobs look fantastic, if she thought so herself. Pushed up just high enough to look bigger than they actually were, but not shoved up so high she had to worry about falling out.
“I’m Strawberry Shortcake.”
He stared at her with a blank look.
“Come on. The cartoon? Strawberry Shortcake, Angel Cake, and Blueberry Pie. How do you not know this?”
“Because … I’m a guy?” His eyes started at her shoes and traveled upward until they hung up on her chest for a hot second. By the time his eyes reached hers, he had a huge grin on his face. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you don’t quite look like the cartoon; otherwise, every guy on the planet would have had the same dirty, boyhood fantasies about Strawberry Shortcake that they did about Wonder Woman and Jessica Rabbit.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his blatant honesty. “You’re such a pervert.”
“Maybe. But I’m an honest pervert.”
Speaking of fantasies, the man always looked good rocking battered jeans and T-shirt, but as far as costumes go, his was lacking.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
Lucky glanced down at the front of his T-shirt as if he’d forgotten what he’d pulled on. “You’ve got something against Superman?”
“Would it have killed you to put forth a little more effort?” Determined to rectify the situation, she headed straight for his bedroom. “Do you have a button down and a tie at least?”
“We’re going to the Red Dawg,” he called after her. “Not some fancy Halloween party at the casino.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she yelled back just before she found herself frozen in place. She was in his room, standing at the foot end of his neatly made bed. Then, before she knew it, he was standing beside her. Both of them. Alone. In his bedroom.
She swallowed hard and tried to remember what the hell she went in there for.
“My dress shirts are in the closet.”
Oh, yes, that’s why she was there. She was improving his costume, absolutely not thinking about how long it had been since she’d had sex or that the underlying scent she always smelled when he was around was stronger here in this room.
She forced her feet to move and continued to the small closet, pulling open the door. “Are you kidding me? You have neatly pressed shirts just ready to go and hanging in the closet?”
“Where else would they be?”
From the look on his face he was genuinely dumbfounded by her question.
“But I’ve never even seen you wear any of these shirts. Do you always have to be so prompt and neat? Can’t you be like all the rest of us and be less than perfect on the occasion?”
That made him smile. She didn’t even have to look at him to know he was doing it. She could just feel his smugness radiate around the room.
Rachel removed a light blue button-down from its hanger and chose a crimson tie from the small rack hanging on the back of the door. “Put these on,” she said, handing him both. “Over the T-shirt.”
“But I’ll get too hot in the bar.”
She waved off his complaint and marched into the kitchen, immediately helping herself to an ice cold glass of water. Maybe it was her imagination but the temperature in his bedroom seemed to skyrocket in a matter of seconds.
The thump of his heavy boots and creak of floorboards signaled his movements and she turned just in time to see him reemerge from the bedroom. Since turnabout was fair play, she motioned for him to do a little twirl and took a slow perusal herself, starting at his feet and working her way up as she sipped from her glass. When he was done, he wore a cocky grin on his face to go along with the dress shirt neatly tucked into his jeans. And, of course, the cuffs were buttoned and tie perfectly knotted.
“Close, but not quite.” She handed him her water glass and stepped in close, mere inches separating them. Beginning with his empty hand, she unbuttoned the cuff and turned it up a couple of times, revealing the strong muscles and tendons of his forearms. Then, after shifting her water glass from his left to his right, completed the other side, too.
“I can dress myself you know. I’ve been doing it since I was five.” His words whispered across her skin as she wrapped her arms around his middle and, starting at the back, pulled the shirt tails free from the waist of his jeans.
“Just … be quiet.” She tugged on the knot of his tie to loosen it and stumbled on her high heels. Immediately his empty hand went to her hip, steadying her. After taking a second to catch her breath, she turned the tie slightly askew and began releasing the buttons on his shirt, revealing the Superman logo beneath bit by bit.
“Why did you have me put all this on if you were just going to undo it all?”
“Hush.”
He needed to stop talking to her in low whispers. It was too distracting, too intimate. She was already having a difficult time mentally blocking out the weight of his hand on her hip or the heat from it seeping through the fabric. Then there was his warm scent that tickled her nose with the slightest movement. She kept her head ducked down, hoping he couldn’t see her pulse thrumming in her throat or how she struggled to regulate her breathing.
“Are you about done?”
“Done.” She released the final button and quickly backed away to break free from his spell.
Lord help her.
Rachel had no romantic notions about how the evening would go. She would not find the love of her life in a hole-in-the-wall bar located in the backwoods of southern Oklahoma. Hell, she might have difficulty finding someone to dance with. But Lucky was right when he told her to follow her own advice. They both needed to get out of the house and have some fun and it just so happened that Halloween provided the best of excuses to do just that.
She checked her reflection one last time in the rearview mirror before climbing out of the truck. As she walked up the front steps to Lucky’s house, the porch light flickered on and the door swung open.
“What the hell are you supposed to be?” he asked as she made her way inside.
Really? How on earth did he not know who she was? Her costume was perfect. From her berry red curls to her berry high heels. And the bodice of her dress made her boobs look fantastic, if she thought so herself. Pushed up just high enough to look bigger than they actually were, but not shoved up so high she had to worry about falling out.
“I’m Strawberry Shortcake.”
He stared at her with a blank look.
“Come on. The cartoon? Strawberry Shortcake, Angel Cake, and Blueberry Pie. How do you not know this?”
“Because … I’m a guy?” His eyes started at her shoes and traveled upward until they hung up on her chest for a hot second. By the time his eyes reached hers, he had a huge grin on his face. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you don’t quite look like the cartoon; otherwise, every guy on the planet would have had the same dirty, boyhood fantasies about Strawberry Shortcake that they did about Wonder Woman and Jessica Rabbit.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his blatant honesty. “You’re such a pervert.”
“Maybe. But I’m an honest pervert.”
Speaking of fantasies, the man always looked good rocking battered jeans and T-shirt, but as far as costumes go, his was lacking.
“Is that what you’re wearing?”
Lucky glanced down at the front of his T-shirt as if he’d forgotten what he’d pulled on. “You’ve got something against Superman?”
“Would it have killed you to put forth a little more effort?” Determined to rectify the situation, she headed straight for his bedroom. “Do you have a button down and a tie at least?”
“We’re going to the Red Dawg,” he called after her. “Not some fancy Halloween party at the casino.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she yelled back just before she found herself frozen in place. She was in his room, standing at the foot end of his neatly made bed. Then, before she knew it, he was standing beside her. Both of them. Alone. In his bedroom.
She swallowed hard and tried to remember what the hell she went in there for.
“My dress shirts are in the closet.”
Oh, yes, that’s why she was there. She was improving his costume, absolutely not thinking about how long it had been since she’d had sex or that the underlying scent she always smelled when he was around was stronger here in this room.
She forced her feet to move and continued to the small closet, pulling open the door. “Are you kidding me? You have neatly pressed shirts just ready to go and hanging in the closet?”
“Where else would they be?”
From the look on his face he was genuinely dumbfounded by her question.
“But I’ve never even seen you wear any of these shirts. Do you always have to be so prompt and neat? Can’t you be like all the rest of us and be less than perfect on the occasion?”
That made him smile. She didn’t even have to look at him to know he was doing it. She could just feel his smugness radiate around the room.
Rachel removed a light blue button-down from its hanger and chose a crimson tie from the small rack hanging on the back of the door. “Put these on,” she said, handing him both. “Over the T-shirt.”
“But I’ll get too hot in the bar.”
She waved off his complaint and marched into the kitchen, immediately helping herself to an ice cold glass of water. Maybe it was her imagination but the temperature in his bedroom seemed to skyrocket in a matter of seconds.
The thump of his heavy boots and creak of floorboards signaled his movements and she turned just in time to see him reemerge from the bedroom. Since turnabout was fair play, she motioned for him to do a little twirl and took a slow perusal herself, starting at his feet and working her way up as she sipped from her glass. When he was done, he wore a cocky grin on his face to go along with the dress shirt neatly tucked into his jeans. And, of course, the cuffs were buttoned and tie perfectly knotted.
“Close, but not quite.” She handed him her water glass and stepped in close, mere inches separating them. Beginning with his empty hand, she unbuttoned the cuff and turned it up a couple of times, revealing the strong muscles and tendons of his forearms. Then, after shifting her water glass from his left to his right, completed the other side, too.
“I can dress myself you know. I’ve been doing it since I was five.” His words whispered across her skin as she wrapped her arms around his middle and, starting at the back, pulled the shirt tails free from the waist of his jeans.
“Just … be quiet.” She tugged on the knot of his tie to loosen it and stumbled on her high heels. Immediately his empty hand went to her hip, steadying her. After taking a second to catch her breath, she turned the tie slightly askew and began releasing the buttons on his shirt, revealing the Superman logo beneath bit by bit.
“Why did you have me put all this on if you were just going to undo it all?”
“Hush.”
He needed to stop talking to her in low whispers. It was too distracting, too intimate. She was already having a difficult time mentally blocking out the weight of his hand on her hip or the heat from it seeping through the fabric. Then there was his warm scent that tickled her nose with the slightest movement. She kept her head ducked down, hoping he couldn’t see her pulse thrumming in her throat or how she struggled to regulate her breathing.
“Are you about done?”
“Done.” She released the final button and quickly backed away to break free from his spell.