Authors: Marie Force
“So am I.” Tiffany gritted her teeth to keep from shrieking and jammed the key in the lock to open the door. Marching to the storage room in the back of the store, she found an unopened can of white paint and a new roller. She glanced down at her expensive silk blouse and skirt. Since she was unwilling to ruin her gorgeous new outfit, she rummaged around, looking for the gym bag she thought she’d left there the week before.
“Damn it,” she muttered when she couldn’t find the bag or anything else to change into. Moving to the front of the store, she checked the wall clock. Two hours until opening. Right when she decided it was worth it to ruin her good clothes to repair the damage, her eyes landed on a saucy French maid costume on one of the racks. Glancing to her scarred window and then back to the outfit, she knew exactly what she had to do.
“They want to screw with me? Well, two can play at that game.”
“Boss?” Patty said warily. “Are you all right?”
“I’m just fine.” Tiffany grabbed the outfit off the rack and headed for the changing room. “Start getting the wine and cheese ready.”
Patty watched her with wide, doe-like eyes caught in headlights. “We’re still going to open?”
“You bet your booty we are.”
Across the street in the grocery store parking lot, Blaine watched from an unmarked police vehicle.
“What are we doing here, Chief?” Patrolman Trainee Wyatt Abrams asked. “The place was hit by vandals. Shouldn’t we take a report?”
“Hang on. I want to see what she does about it.” Blaine tilted a neck gone tight with tension. When he first saw what some idiot had done to Tiffany’s store, he’d ached with dismay and had to resist the urge to fix it before she saw it. That was what the old Blaine would’ve done. The new-and-improved Blaine kept his distance from “projects” and didn’t get involved. From a police standpoint, there wasn’t much he could do besides assign additional patrols in the area, which he’d done the minute he first saw the damage.
As he watched Tiffany drive up, seeing the spring in her step and then the devastated curve of her shoulders, Blaine’s heart had broken for her. Then he saw her get mad, and he was proud. Now he waited anxiously to see what she planned to do about it. Ten more tense minutes passed before the door swung open. A paint can and roller preceded Tiffany out the door.
“Oh. My. God,” Wyatt whispered. “What does she have on?”
Blaine couldn’t speak as he stared at Tiffany in a black lace bustier with fishnet stockings, stiletto heels and a bow tie around her neck. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, and the lithe dancer’s body he remembered in vivid detail after the night he saw her naked was on full display. The skimpy outfit reminded him that she was made up of miles of creamy-white skin and long, muscular legs. His erection pressed against his fly, letting him know it approved.
“She’s not really going to
paint
in that getup, is she?” Wyatt asked, his tongue practically hanging out of his face.
As she bent over to open the paint can, Wyatt got his answer.
Blaine saw red. What the hell was she thinking, parading around like that? This wasn’t that kind of town, and he could only imagine what the mayor and town council would have to say about it.
As he was reaching for the door handle to go have a word with her, the squeal of tires and the crunch of metal connecting with metal snapped Blaine out of the stupor he’d slipped into.
“Holy shit!” Wyatt said, his voice high-pitched. “She caused a freaking accident!”
Blaine reached for his jacket in the backseat and threw open the door. “Go take statements at the accident,” he said. “Call the paramedics if there’re injuries, and get some backup over here to handle traffic.”
“I could take care of her if you want to handle the accident,” Wyatt said with a cheeky grin as they ran from the car to the scene.
Blaine shot the patrolman a glower that succeeded in shutting him up. He noticed Tiffany was watching the two drivers shriek at each other with a horrified expression on her face. She’d been so happy when she first arrived at the store, and now it was all going to crap. Well, project or not, he couldn’t let that happen.
He and Wyatt reached the street and went their separate ways. Blaine darted through cars brought to a stop by the accident and approached Tiffany, who seemed frozen with shock. Wrapping his jacket around her shoulders, he tried to ease her toward the shop door.
All at once, she snapped out of it and pushed him away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking you inside.”
She shook him off, which caused her barely covered breasts to shake, too.
Blaine peeled his eyes off her jiggling flesh while trying to suppress the memory of how her skin had tasted, and the delicious raspberry-colored nipples that were threatening to break free at any second. He’d spent a ridiculous amount of time over the last ten months thinking about those nipples.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got to get this mess cleaned up before I open at noon.”
“Wearing
that
?”
Her green eyes shot fire at him, but mixed in with the anger, he saw desire.
Oh yeah, she’s thought about me, too
.
“It’s either this or naked.” She tossed his coat back at him. “Take your pick.”
Blaine swallowed hard as he remembered the sight of her naked and handcuffed to her scumbag of a husband. “I choose neither,” he said through gritted teeth as he realized they were drawing a crowd of spectators who’d figured out that Tiffany’s outfit had caused the crash. The two drivers were arguing with a red-faced and flustered Patrolman Abrams.
“You may not be aware that this town has decency laws,” Blaine said.
“All the important stuff is covered,” she retorted, bending over to fill the roller pan with paint.
At the sight of her rounded bottom, a surge of lust hit Blaine right in the groin. “It’s not covered well enough.”
“So write me a ticket and be on your way. I’ve got work to do and not much time to do it.” Running the roller through the glossy white paint, Tiffany began applying it to the splotches of red, green and yellow that marred the front of her store. Up went the roller, down went the front of the black bustier.
Blaine wasn’t sure what was going to happen first: either his head was going to explode or her boobs were going to bust free of that thing she called decent. “Tiffany, please. Come on. We’ll get someone over here to do the painting.”
“Who? Who will
we
get to come help the woman who had the nerve to open a sex-toy shop on this button-downed, sexless, freak-show island?”
He stared at her, his brain attempting to process the words as he began to sweat in earnest. “I thought this was a lingerie shop,” he somehow managed to say. “You didn’t say anything about, um, toys.”
“I said lingerie and
other items
.”
“Is that how you managed to get it past the town?” he asked, mesmerized by the sway of her breasts as she worked the roller. A bead of perspiration traveled from the base of her neck straight down to the valley between her bountiful breasts. Despite his best efforts to keep it under control, his dick surged to full hard-on status. He shifted his coat so it covered the front of him.
“They’ve been so busy trying to keep Jumbo Mart from invading their pristine island that they barely noticed me.”
Blaine glanced at the knot of traffic, the mangled cars, infuriated drivers and his rookie attempting to bring order to the chaos. Relieved to see two more cruisers heading toward the scene, Blaine returned his attention to her. “I think it’s safe to say they’ve noticed you now.”
“That’s the goal,” she said with a saucy grin.
“You caused an accident!”
“Um, no, the person who wasn’t watching where he was going caused the accident.”
Blaine anchored his free hand to his hair to keep the top of his head from blowing off. “You need to put some clothes on, or I’m going to have to cite you.” He couldn’t charge her with anything other than creating a public nuisance, but she didn’t need to know that. Besides, his threats of law and order had hardly stopped her from finishing the job.
Tiffany covered the last of the red splotches with a wide stroke of the roller. “You know, whoever decided to redecorate my shop has actually done me a favor.”
“How do you figure?” Blaine asked, exasperated that she refused to take him seriously.
“Well, I needed to repaint and didn’t have anything else to wear. Who knew this little number would get me so much free publicity? Maybe a little ‘creative advertising’ is just what I need to make a name for my new shop.”
Now Blaine was not only sweating but also wondering why the idea of her parading around half dressed in the center of town made him so damned mad. It wasn’t like she belonged to him or anything. But if she did—belong to him, that is—you could bet
your
ass that she wouldn’t be showing
her
ass to anyone but him. “Sweetheart, it’s safe to say you’ve made a name for yourself that’ll be remembered on Gansett Island for years to come.”
“Perfect.”
“Listen, I’m trying to help you here.” Once again, he tried to cover her with his coat, and once again she pushed it away.
“I appreciate your whole hero-to-the-rescue act, but I’m all set. Go do your job, and I’ll do mine. I’m very busy, and you’re going to scare all my customers away with that nasty scowl on your face.”
Now that just made him mad. “This isn’t over.” He was dying to ask about the status of her divorce, but this wasn’t the time or the place.
Bending to pour the remaining paint from the roller tray back into the can, she gave him another view of her superb backside. When she stood upright again, she turned to him, her face red and flushed from heat and exertion. “
Sweetheart
,” she said in a mocking tone, “it was over before it started.”
Chapter 2
“You’re kidding me, right?” Tiffany’s sister Maddie asked as she looked around at the store. “On
Gansett Island
?”
“If one more person says that, I’m going to lose it,” Tiffany said, disappointed by her sister’s reaction. “Here’s a newsflash for you. People—other than me, of course—have sex on Gansett.
You
have sex on Gansett.”
Maddie covered her mouth with her hand, as if trying to hide a smile, or worse yet, a laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No, honey. I’m trying to imagine what Linda McCarthy will have to say about it.”
Tiffany told herself she didn’t care what people like Linda had to say, but there was a part of her that hoped for the approval of the townspeople. “I suppose I shouldn’t show you the rest, then.”
“There’s
more
?” Maddie asked, wide-eyed.
Tiffany gestured to the beaded curtain that separated the main room from a second, smaller room.
With a look of trepidation for Tiffany, Maddie stepped through the beads. “Oh. My. God!” Parting the beads, she stared at Tiffany, her face scarlet, before turning to take a second, longer look. “Are those… Oh my God.”
“Don’t knock ’em until you’ve tried ’em,” Tiffany said with a bravado she didn’t feel. What if everyone reacted the way Maddie did and no one patronized her store? Her stomach quivered with fear. She’d be ruined. She’d lose her home, and Jim would get custody of Ashleigh. For a second, Tiffany thought she might be sick.
Still red-faced, Maddie stepped back into the main room of the store, fanning herself. “That’s some interesting inventory you’ve got there, Sis.”
“I need your support, Maddie. Not your disapproval.”
“I don’t disapprove at all, but others may.”
“I’m prepared for that.”
“Are you, honey? Truly?”
“Since when do we care what anyone thinks of us? Are you so far gone being a McCarthy now that you’ve forgotten where you came from?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, Tiffany regretted them.
Maddie’s displeasure showed in the tightening of her lips. “I haven’t forgotten anything, and no one wants you to succeed more than I do. You know that.”
“Then don’t run home and tell Mac I’ve opened a sex-toy shop so he can go blabbing to his mother.”
“With the way the grapevine works around here, I bet she already knows.”
“Let her say whatever she wants. I have all the proper paperwork and licenses. There’s nothing anyone can do. I’m determined to make a go of this place.”
“I wish you nothing but the best of luck.” Maddie gave Tiffany a hug. “I’ve got to get home before my boobs explode. Hailey is due for a feeding. Hope your opening is a smashing success.”
“Thanks,” Tiffany said, waving her sister off with a sinking sensation in her belly.
When the first hour passed without a single customer, Tiffany didn’t think much of it. On a busy spring Saturday, people were at the beach or enjoying other outdoor activities. Maybe this wasn’t the best time of year to open a new store after all.
By the time the third hour had come and gone, Tiffany realized she was being snubbed. A sense of panic unlike anything she’d ever experienced seized her. Everything she had was wrapped up in this store. Everything. If no one ever came, she’d be ruined.