Love in Bloom (25 page)

“Just come for a while,” Bobbi pushed. “When you've had enough, you can take my car home and I'll have Jason bring me back.”

Hope knew Bobbi would push and push until she gave in.
Might as well give in now and get it over with
. “Okay. But just for a while.”

“Great!” Bobbi picked up her cell phone and punched in a number. Not hard to figure out who. “Okay, Hope's coming with.”

The little beast! “You already had this planned,” Hope accused.

Bobbi ignored her. “We'll meet you by the beer garden.”

“
You
can meet him at the beer garden.”

Bobbi stuck a finger in her ear. “What?” Now she was grinning.
Hope knew from experience that this didn't bode well for her. “Great. Thanks. See ya later.”

“What's great?” Hope demanded as her sister hung up.

“You have to stick around, at least for part of the dance.”

“No, I don't,” Hope said stubbornly. What was the point of going to the street dance if she didn't have anyone to dance with?

“Duke's coming. We're double-dating.”

A million thoughts swarmed Hope like angry bees. How dare Bobbi set her up on a date without asking! This had all been a trick. “I don't want to date Jason's friend. I don't want to date anyone. And, most of all, I don't want to be manipulated.” She slammed the dryer door shut on her laundry and gave the setting control knob an angry twist.

“Oh, come on,” Bobbi pleaded. “It will be fun.”

“No, it won't. I'll be too mad at you to have any fun at all. I don't even like Duke.”

“He's hot,” Bobbi protested.

“He's not my type.” He looked like the kind of man who would unthinkingly trample flower beds, eat cake with his fingers, and move in on his best friend's girl in a heartbeat. Hope remembered the looks she'd caught shooting between him and Bobbi. This man wasn't coming along because he wanted her. He was coming because he wanted to poach.

“Just for a while,” Bobbi pleaded. “Come on. When was the last time you did something fun?”

“I went to Megan's just last month for a chick flick.”

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “Wow, a social life one night a month. How do you stand it?”

“Maybe I don't need as much of a social life as you,” Hope snapped.

“I know you don't. But you need to have some fun, especially after all the hard stuff you've gone through.” Bobbi wrapped an arm around Hope's shoulder and squeezed. “Come on. Pleeease?”

Hope gave up. “Okay. But I'm not staying for long. I have plans.”
To come home and water my plants
.

It was enough for Bobbi. She grinned. “Great. Now, let's get gorgeous and get out the door. I'm starving.”

Getting dressed turned out to be a production. Bobbi took one look at Hope's jeans and her favorite figure-hiding top and shuddered. “Oh, no. I'm not going to be seen with you in that.” She grabbed Hope's arm and hauled her to Bobbi's bedroom, still full of unpacked boxes of kitchen things and knickknacks.

But the clothes had all been carefully stowed away. Before Hope knew it, she was in a soft pink sweater with a white camisole under it.

Too clingy. She shook her head vehemently. “No, that won't work.”

“Your boobs look fine,” Bobbi assured her.

Not to her they didn't. The difference wasn't that noticeable in most clothes and not to most people, but to Hope, clinging sweaters were like neon signs.
Fake boob, fake boob, fake boob
. “I can't wear this.”

She started to take it off, but Bobbi stopped her. “We're not done yet. Here, put this on.” She handed over a denim jacket. “Wear it open.”

Hope slipped it on and looked in the mirror Bobbi had hung on her door. The vertical lines drew the eye up and down, not to the chest. She looked normal, cute even. Behind her Bobbi was indulging in a knowing smirk. “Told you. Now here, put on these earrings.”

Hope slipped on Bobbi's favorite garnet drop earrings. They looked great. Next, the tennis shoes she'd been about to wear got traded for pink pumps Bobbi declared were too big for her.

“Those look great,” Bobbi approved.

“And they fit. I can never fit in your shoes.” Hope took one off and checked the size. “Size eight?”

“They're a little big for me,” Bobbi admitted.

“Why did you buy shoes a size too big?”

Bobbi shrugged. “They were on sale.”

Hope just shook her head. “Hey, don't be giving me grief. That was a psychic buy. I knew, somehow, those shoes would come in handy.” Bobbi stepped back and admired her handiwork. “Now you look ready to go out. Good thing you've got me or you could end up on
What Not to Wear
with the whole world watching.”

Hope couldn't help smiling as she put the shoe back on. “You're absolutely right.”

Bobbi acknowledged the compliment with a brief grin, and then got back to business. “Now, let's do something about your makeup. You have got to quit walking around looking like a fashion fugitive.”

Makeup, too? She hadn't worn makeup since she was first diagnosed with cancer. It was a habit long dead. And Hope wasn't sure it was worth reviving. What was the point? She waved away the suggestion. “Let's not bother.”

“Oh, come on,” Bobbi said, digging in her makeup bag. “You can't stop now.”

“I'm fine like this. Anyway, there's no point. I'm not going to . . .” It shouldn't be hard to complete that sentence, but it was.

“Not going to what?” Bobbi asked, studying her. Then sudden understanding dawned in Bobbi's eyes, followed by concern. “Don't go there. Of course you're going to find someone. You don't want to go through your life alone.”

“Yes, actually, I do. That way I don't have to worry about the toilet seat getting left up.”

Bobbi threw up both hands. “You have got to stop doing this to yourself. So, you've got some scars. So, you're not perfect and you've got an implant. Half of Hollywood has implants.”

“They had better surgeons.” Or better genes. Or better . . . something. If any member of the Hollywood Big-Boob Club had
experienced capsular contracture—that dreaded complication that demanded more surgery and rewarded with more scarring—or had problems with the new addition not matching up or feeling normal, they weren't announcing it.

Stop acting like such a thistle. It's one date, and a group date at that. No one's asking you to peel off your top and do show-and-tell
. Anyway, it was easier to let Bobbi have her way than argue, especially when Hope knew she'd only lose the argument anyway.

“Ha! I'm amazing,” Bobbi crowed when she'd finally finished. She pulled Hope off her bed and planted her in front of the mirror. “There. Do you look great or what?”

Hope looked in the mirror. Her face had changed. Had her lips always been that full or had she simply forgotten? And her eyes, she couldn't stop looking at them. They were big and her lashes were thick and sexy. She looked . . . alive. And healthy. “Wow,” she breathed.

“Now you look the way you used to,” Bobbi approved.

Well, almost, but Hope wasn't about to belabor the point. She couldn't fix what was wrong, but thanks to Bobbi, she was sure playing up what was right. She did a little turn in front of the mirror. “I can't believe it's me.”

“I can,” said Bobbi. “Now, we so have to go or I'm going to collapse. I'm so hungry I'm about ready to gnaw my arm off.”

Ten minutes later, Bobbi had created a parking space out of half a No Parking zone and a bunch of sticker bushes. “I'm going to come back and find your car towed away,” Hope predicted.

“Then Duke will have to drive you home,” Bobbi said, and waggled her eyebrows.

What a terrifying thought.

Bobbi must have seen the fear in Hope's eyes because she quickly said, “Don't worry. It'll all work out.” And without giving Hope any further chance to protest, she slid out of the car, taking the keys with her.

“Maybe you should give me those now,” Hope said as they started walking toward the surging crowd.

Bobbi stuffed the keys in her pants pocket. “Not yet. You might just turn and run.” She gave her sister a taunting grin. “You gotta eat something and dance at least three dances before you get to go home.”

“Boy, are you bossy,” Hope muttered.

“I'm pretending I'm the big sister,” Bobbi cracked, and gave her a hug. “Oh, the band is already playing. Let's move it.”

Hope could hear a guitar screaming, and under it, the pounding of drums and the thumping of a bass. Like a heartbeat. The smell of grilling onions and cotton candy drifted on the air, making her taste buds water. She took a deep breath, picked up her pace, and followed her sister to the party.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I
T WASN
'
T HARD
for Jason to spot Bobbi Walker in the crowd, not in that red leather jacket. Under it she was wearing a black top and tight jeans. Her blond hair gently caressed her shoulders as she walked. She looked like a model.

But she wasn't the only one.

“Check it out,” said Duke, standing next to him. “The sister took a hot pill since the last time I saw her.

No joke. Dressed in pink, Hope looked soft and feminine, and made him think of cupcakes. As they got closer, he saw she was wearing makeup. It made her whole face come alive and moved her up the babe meter from an eight to a nine and a half.

“Not bad at all,” said Duke.

Jason wasn't sure he liked the way his friend was checking out Bobbi's sister. Duke was a connoisseur of women, a no-commitment gypsy. This hadn't bothered Jason before. But now, watching him
checking out Hope, and knowing he was doing the S-Man X-ray vision thing and seeing what was behind those clothes, Jason wasn't feeling so laid-back. It had seemed like a good idea at the time when Bobbi suggested a double date, but now he realized he'd just served up a dove on a platter to a wolf.

Bobbi caught sight of them and waved, pushing her way past a clump of noisy women. “We're here,” she announced. “The party is on.”

“I'm down with that,” said Duke.

The wolf had a big appetite. Duke was doing the S-Man thing with Bobbi now and not trying to hide it. That was going to earn him a fist in the nose.

Then Jason caught the way Bobbi looked back and felt like he was the one who just got punched. Sucker punched.

But when she curled her arms through his and smiled up at him, showing off those dimples in her cheeks, he decided he was imagining things.

“Let's get something to eat,” she said. “I'm starving.”

“We can't have that,” said Duke. He put an arm around Hope. “Whaddya say to something . . . hot?”

She slipped out of his easy embrace. “Maybe we'd better start with something cold.”

That made Jason snicker. Okay, this woman could take care of herself. He didn't need to worry about her.

They filled up on barbecued ribs and corn on the cob, washed down by beer from Brewsters, the local brew pub. Then Bobbi led them to the big, inflatable bounce house, which was filled with trampolining kids, and insisted they go in.

They were the only grown-ups in there and the noise level was enough to turn Jason deaf, but he couldn't help laughing as he bounced around like a human spring. And then everything went downhill. Hope lost her balance and fell into him. He tried to keep her upright and wound up with a handful of soft, female ass. She
had too much momentum going, so down they went, Jason's hand still on her butt. She landed on top of him. The groin-to-groin contact was a double whammy, but she turned it into a triple when she wriggled to get off of him, muttering, “Sorry.”

He wasn't, and that, naturally, made him feel guilty as an altar boy at a porn site. He got to his feet just as Bobbi moon-jumped over to him and threw herself into his arms, taking him over backward again. And now, she was on him and he felt like he was in some kinky movie, doing foreplay for a threesome. This was wrong. What was going on in his head, anyway?

By the time they left that big bubble of trouble, Jason was sweating, and it wasn't from exercise. He wished it was just him and Bobbi here to night. Including Duke and Hope had been a bad idea. It was like mixing your liquor when you drank. It screwed you up.

It'll be okay now, he reassured himself as he draped an arm over Bobbi's shoulder. Everything would be fine. Bobbi was everything he wanted in a woman. He didn't have to go confusing the issue by checking out her sister. He had another beer to wash away the confusion. Duke had two.

Then it got dark and the dancing began in earnest. And suddenly, Duke and Bobbi were dancing together in a way that should have burned off their clothes. The other dancers cleared a space for them and started cheering like they were at
Dancing with the Stars
.