She tried to relax as she hurried into the bedroom and let the kimono fall at her feet. But all of Carolyn's icky friends were here, and Nick Armstrong was still here, too. Ab, the best-laid plans ...
Digging through her swimsuit drawer, she found a basic black one-piece and stepped into it. She was more comfortable in a
two-piece, but all things considered, this seemed a smarter choice, even for after the painter left, which she hoped would be soon. The only thing that had gone right in the last five minutes was that Carolyn hadn't blocked Nick Armstrong's van with her car, so he'd be able to leave with ease.
Nick shifted his ladder toward the comer of the house, intending to finish the north side, even as the clock ticked well past his usual quitting time. Guilt from earlier still pummeled him, and he'd decided getting through this job as quickly as possible was a good idea. At the same time, though, visions of her fantasy kept playing like a movie in his brain, creating question after question ... and tempting him. Still. as arousing as it was, he wished he'd never gone in, wished he didn't know about her little red book.
He'd just climbed back up when he heard voices.
Glancing past the keystoned comers, he found that his new vantage point gave him a view of the pool and the stone patio. And it looked like the princess had company.
His first impression was of a group of boring Gen-Xers-a couple of skinny girls who giggled as they stripped down to skimpy bikinis, and two guys who were trying too hard to be cool as they shrugged off their shirts and lit cigarettes. He'd just gotten back to work when he heard the princess's voice, again sounding way friendlier to this bunch than she had yet to him. "I brought out some beer and wine coolers. Can you help me with this stuff, Mike?"
"Sure." Nick heard a plunk on the teak table and the jiggle of glass bottles.
"Do you have those kiwi lime coolers I like?" one of the girls asked.
"Just berry and peach," the princess replied. "Sorry, Carolyn."
The name drew his attention back around the comer. "Peach'll do," the same girl said, sounding just as merry as she twisted her long auburn hair up into a messy knot atop her head. Lucky had been accurate about the girl's voluminous hair, and about her little tits, as well-although he thought they might not be so little if she'd put on a few pounds. Lauren Ash's girlfriends were too skinny for his taste.
The princess, on the other hand, was just right. Her sleek black suit hugged her slender hourglass shape and shored up every notion Nick had already formed about her body: Her legs went on forever, her breasts were full and round, and every curve begged to have his hands gliding over it. Her blond hair had been drawn up into a big clip, but a few strands fell free. "I'll go turn on some music and grab some chips," she said.
A minute later, as he continued running smooth strokes of paint over the rough stucco, a local top forty station boomed a current hit from outdoor speakers, the music punctuated with a couple of splashes from the pool and the sound of a beer tab being popped.
"So, what's with the swimsuit?" "What do you mean, whats with it?"
The second voice belonged to Lauren, the first to Carolyn, and both were so close-just around the corner below him-he couldn't help listening.
Carolyn was so lively that she reminded him of a Muppet. "I just haven't seen you in a one-piece since, like, the tenth grade, and I know you hate an uneven tan. And you look so cute in a two-piece."
He heard Lauren's sigh and thought she'd looked plenty cute, way more than Carolyn in her slinky silver lame bikini. Admittedly, he would've enjoyed seeing more of Lauren, but she looked sexy in the black suit just the same. "Sorry if I sounded edgy," Lauren replied, softer. "As for the suit, it's just what I pulled out. No particular reason."
The girls' voices faded as they drifted back toward the pool, yet Nick wondered about Carolyn's observation, as well. From Lucky's appraisal, he'd have expected the princess to be flaunting all those sexy curves.
After a little more work, he backed down the ladder to refill his paint tray. However, the longer the pool party continued, the more difficult it became for him to block it out, especially knowing Lauren was back there with the "dudes," as he'd started thinking of the two guys. His stomach twisted when he imagined her giving them what he wanted from her. And hearing the party noises while he worked gave him the damnedest sensation of being some kind of servant in the midst of high luxury. Before starting on the last square of pink remaining on the side of the house, he rounded the comer and leaned casually against the stucco. He just wanted to see how the party was going, if it was still the small crowd of five or if it'd grown. And he also wondered vaguely if Lauren Ash was hoping he'd stay hidden, as good help surely did.
His eyes fell instantly on the pool, on Carolyn and the dudes in the shallow end. The guy with the ponytail held her from behind, one arm looped around her waist, the other across her chest, and the blond one played with her feet. "Stop it," she said. laughing, kicking. But even from that distance, he saw the anxious light in her eyes, heard the teasing lilt in her voice. Pony Tail tugged threateningly at one of her silver triangles, laughing, and Carolyn looked over her shoulder to scold him. "Mike!" Yet Nick felt confident that Mike, like Lucky, had been there and farther before.
The blond guy parted her legs and stepped between them to haul her up out of Mike's arms. "Come 'ere, babe." Carolyn wrapped her arms and legs around him in the waist-deep water.
"My hero," she cooed, drawing him into a passionate kiss.
It was then that Nick caught sight of Lauren Ash from the comer of his eye. She stood still as a statue. not twenty feet away, watching the scene in the pool just as he was. It wasn't as if they were watching it together, yet somehow he felt as though they were, like two strangers thrust into someone else's intimate world. And, of course, that reminded him of her intimate world, the one he'd unwittingly violated earlier in the day.
As he shifted his gaze to her, he tried to define what he saw in her eyes. Something dark he couldn't read, something he wanted to know about-badly. His heart beat too fast.
He almost knew she would tum to look at him, almost knew she would sense his presence. When she did, their eyes locked. And desire flooded him.
He tilted his head, used it to motion toward the pool.
"Not swimming with your friends?" Without quite meaning to, he'd delivered the question in a suggestive way.
She blinked, looking surprisingly defiant. "No," she said sharply, then turned to go. She'd only taken a few steps. though, when she stopped to peer over her shoulder. "Aren't you working awfully late?"
"Anxious to get rid of me?" "Just curious."
"I didn't get as much done today as I wanted; the roses slowed me down." It was a lie, not the part about getting enough done, but the reason why. After his excursion into her house, he'd taken a long lunch.
She paused, then took a few tentative steps toward him. "How did that go?" Her tone softened slightly. "With the roses?" He almost admitted it wasn't as much of a problem as he'd thought, almost asked what he'd wondered earlier, if she tended them herself-but stopped. "I think they survived."
She nodded shortly. "Good." Then she turned to leave once more, and didn't stop this time-and damn it, he suddenly felt like her servant again.
Her smug nod reminded him of what he'd detected on first meeting her-she thought she was better than him. A bolt of resentment shot through him as he watched the sway of her ass moving away, finally disappearing through the French doors. God only knew how much she'd hate him if she ever found out he knew her secret.
As usual, he had unnerved her. She'd never seen so much sex emanating from a man's gaze. And it wasn't the bad kind, the Chad the Lifeguard kind, the you-could-be anybody kind. Somehow she knew it was just for her. That might not have been the case when she'd opened the door to him yesterday mornnng-dear God, had it been that recent?-but what she saw in his eyes now had deepened, narrowed, focusing in as tightly on her as she, unintentionally, focused on him.
Gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, she tried to catch her breath. She shouldn't have drunk that wine cooler without eating something; it had gone straight to her head. Coupled with Nick Armstrong, it seemed a lethal combination. "Wbatcha doing?"
Lauren looked up to find Cardlyn exiting the bathroom. "I thought you were playing in the pool," she said, not quite meaning to sound so sarcastic.
Carolyn tilted her head, as if deciding whether to be offended. "I had to pee."
Lauren turned to the pantry, reaching for a bag of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa, thankful-given her unexpected guests-4hat she kept a lot of snacks on hand.
"So, come clean."
She glanced over her shoulder to see Carolyn's inquisitive smile. "Clean?"
"Come on, Laur. Who is that hunk 0' hunk 0' burnin' love out there?"
Oh God, Carolyn had seen him? Glad her back remained to her friend, Lauren reached into an overhead cabinet for a chip and dip tray. She prayed her voice wouldn't quiver when she said, "My house-painter."
"Looks like he'd be good"
"Seems to be doing a fine job." She turned to face Carolyn as she unscrewed the lid on the salsa.
"No, silly. In bed."
Lauren set the jar on the counter and rolled her eyes.
So now even Carolyn was under the mistaken impression that she slept around? "Well, I wouldn't know about that."
Carolyn bit her lower lip and spoke in a singsong voice. "You could find out. I saw the way he looked at you, Laur. Surely you didn't miss that."
She feigned indifference as she ripped into the bag of chips. "I'm not into it."
"Into what?"
She met Carolyn's gaze. "Sex with strangers." Carolyn looked slightly affronted. but Lauren didn't care. Her best friend could sleep with every man in Florida if she wanted, but that didn't mean Lauren had to think it was right. And she didn't mean to be so rough on Carolyn, but she couldn't help being in a bad mood.
"You're still feeling edgy, aren't you?" "Yes, as a matter of fact."
Carolyn lowered her chin and cast a shrewd grin, as if to say, Now I know why. "Well, fair warning. If you aren't gonna go after that gorgeous man, I might have to." The smile said Carolyn was calling her bluff, trying to push her into a seduction she didn't want because she thought Lauren was missing out.
"Be my guest," was her only reply as she spread triangular chips in the tray.
Yet as Carolyn strode back out the door. something like jealousy fluttered uncomfortably through Lauren's chest.
When Lauren stepped back outside, the mood had changed. The sun had started dipping over the trees behind the wall that separated her yard from her father's, and the pool lay empty. the water still. Everyone sat in a circle around the patio table, drinking.
She lowered the chips and salsa to the center of the table, then took one of the remaining chairs. "Dig in." "Thanks," Mike said, reaching for a tortilla chip. Jimmy sort of grunted, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Holly braided her hair over one shoulder and looked somber; an open wine cooler sat untouched in front of her. Lauren could only guess that Holly hadn't counted on Carolyn garnering both guys' attention.
"Looks like your painter is packing up for the day," Carolyn said from across the table. Thank God, she thought, ignoring Carolyn's prodding grin. She cast a quick glimpse toward Nick Armstrong, who knelt to roll up a drop cloth in the distance.
Everyone else glanced over, too.
"What's his name?" Carolyn asked.
She exhaled before answering. "Nick Armstrong." "Nick!" Carolyn yelled. He stopped to look up, and
Lauren's heart froze. What is Carolyn doing? "Want a beer?"
Lauren glared at her friend, then shifted her eyes back to Nick, who appeared only slightly surprised. His gaze caught hers, and it traveled all through her.
"Sure," he said.
Her stomach somersaulted as Nick took easy steps toward the patio, soon settling in the last remaining chair between Holly and Jimmy. She didn't look at him; instead, she reached nervously for a wine cooler.
"They're getting warm," Holly said. Lauren peered at her, confused. "What?" "The wine coolers. They're warm."
She rose abruptly in reply. "I'll get some ice." She headed quickly for the door, never so happy to escape a social gathering in her life.
Inside, she grabbed two acrylic tumblers and filled them with ice ... but then she paused in place. What if she just stayed inside, didn't go back out? The hell with Holly's warm cooler. She did not want to sit around a table with Nick Armstrong.
Yet, taking a deep breath, she picked up the glasses and exited through the French doors. It would be okay, she told herself. She wouldn't let this guy get the best of her this time. In fact, maybe she'd encourage Carolyn to hook up with him. Maybe that would get Nick
Armstrong's eyes off her and onto someone more like him. He and Carolyn could screw each other's brains out for all she cared.
Reaching the table, she avoided everyone's eyes and caught sight of her painter only in her peripheral vision. Determined to ignore the way his tank shirt clung so well to his body, she lowered one glass in front of Holly and poured her cooler into the other as she sat back down. Over the crackle of ice, she tuned into the conversation. "What about you, Holly?" Carolyn was asking with a suggestive smile.
Holly continued brooding as she glanced at Jimmy.
"You tell 'em."
"I don't know which place you-"
Holly slammed her glass lightly on the table. "In the bathroom at your dad's house. Where else would I be thinking of?" "Whatever," he mumbled.
"Hey, guys, don't get upset," Carolyn said in a soothing, playful tone. "We're just fooling around here, ya know?" Then Mike burst out laughing.
"What's so funny, dude?" Jimmy asked, sounding disgusted.
"I was just thinking, I once did it in the bathroom at your dad's place, too."