What Lola Wants (London Dolls Book 1) (9 page)

“We need to learn to lock doors around here and use the chain.” Heat rose to Louisa’s cheeks.

“Yes, absolutely, and let’s have a bedroom only rule for sex, okay?”

He patted his sister on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, Sis. So, you’re helping Lola discover her inner burlesque goddess?”

“I’m trying to help her see that a dancer doesn’t just quit. It’s in her blood. The limelight needs her.”

“Perhaps I don’t need the limelight.”

Jane dismissed her with a wave. “Either way, I’m not going to sit back and let you throw away all your years of training without a fight. You were born to perform. You might even find burlesque therapeutic. You don’t have to be yourself. You can transform yourself into a fantasy for men to desire and women to envy. I see the way you stick to the shadows, how you make yourself down these days so you can hide in the crowd. It’s not you, Louisa. You’re lost, and you need to snap out of it. Performing on your terms could be your savior.”

“She’s not wrong,” he added.

“I don’t know.” Louisa jostled her hair out of the ponytail she’d worn for the dance practice and let her hair cascade over her shoulders in hopes Dennis was watching. “I mean, won’t the publicity be a neon arrow for Al to find me?”

“You can dance as Lola. He’ll never make the connection and find you.” He crossed his arms. “This is a great idea.”

“Besides,” Jane sang, “there’s something I haven’t told you, Louisa.”

“Uh-oh.” She inched back.

Her friend shrugged and said, easy breezy, “You have to take my spot in Friday’s show. Please? I would hate to stand my guy up. It’s been so long.”

“Why not tell me rather than, pardon the pun, dance around it and trick me into practicing? See, I knew you’d pull this on me.”

“I figured I’d ease you into the whole burlesque thing. I can see it makes you uncomfortable.”

“That’s right. It does.”

“Oh, please say you’ll do it,
Lola
.” Jane furrowed her brow. “Please? For me,” she continued her begging with a pout and hands in prayer position.

“You’re not going to let me say no to this, are you?”

Jane shook her head.

“I’ll do it this once. My last hurrah.”

Jane clapped her hands. “Yay. Okay, so your homework for tonight is to come up with an act. Who are you going on stage as? Not Louisa with her control panties and grey sweats. No man wants to see that.”

“Hey, I’d like to see that. You look hot in whatever you wear,” he said. “Or don’t wear.”

Focused on not melting and trying to ignore his comment, Louisa inwardly smiled. “I’m still trying to find myself. How am I meant to come up with an entirely new persona?” She sighed. “How did you come up with your act, Jane?”

“It evolved. It’s who I am, you know, in my fantasy.”

“You want to hide behind fans?”

“Nah, I want to be coy, to be a lady. But you know me. Any man has me in bed and I’m naked and jumping him before he can ask me what my name is. It’s nice to pretend to be proper. That’s who I am, deep inside me somewhere.”

Against her will, Louisa’s gaze flitted to Dennis and she blurted, “I am not that kind of girl.”

“So you and my brother weren’t making the sofa scream for mercy last night?”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “Maybe.”

He jabbed her ribs. “A chance to dance on stage as someone else will help you break through this whole ‘I can’t dance because it reminds me of Al’s

crap.”

Jane threw her arms in the air. “That’s what I’ve been saying. Use your time on stage in character as therapy. Think of what you need in your life to feel good about yourself. What will liberate you from the restraints that prick has embedded into you?”

“You should do whatever Lola wants to do, make it big and fantastical. Go all out.” A proud smile adorned Dennis’s chiseled features. “Be whoever you want to be.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know who I am or should be.” She pouted. “What if I can’t do it? What if I go out there, do my thing, and look like a duck quacking for breadcrumbs?”

Jane knelt beside her. “I’ve never known you to fail at anything in your entire life. Remember that awful woodcraft class you accidentally signed up for instead of cooking? You hated it, but you worked that wood regardless and got an A.”

“I’ve got some wood you could work.” Dennis winked.

His sister whipped a palm over his head, tousling his blond locks. “Don’t talk to my friend like that.”

Ignoring the sibling banter, Louisa stood and stuck her chest out. “You’re right. I can do anything I set my mind to.”

“That’s the spirit, my Lola. Hey, she should shop at your store, Sis. Seeing all those crazy outfits might spark an idea.”

“Her store?” She flicked her attention to her friend. “You have a store?”

“Ah, yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that I own Lady Jane’s Dress Burlesque on Knightsbridge.”

“Really?” Not knowing this major detail in her friend’s life riddled her with guilt. She slumped. “What else aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, except, well…”

“Spit it out.”

“Tell her, Sis.”

“Come on, tell me, Jane?”

“Dennis is my silent partner. He owns half the store and does the accounts, leaving me to do what I was born to do.”

“Which is?”

“Bedazzle everything I can lay my hands on, of course.”

She tapped them both on the shoulder and smiled. “You two always did make a perfect team, sure you’re not twins?”

“Yeah, we’re sure. Not with the three-year difference between us. And while we’re being honest and dishing, your mum called. She wants to see you. Anyway, I gotta go. See you at the theatre for practice in two hours.” Jane ducked out of the flat.

“What does she mean, my mum called?” She turned to Dennis, her teeth gritted, hands balled. “How would my mum have Jane’s number?”

“Didn’t you know? I would have thought she’d have told you. Your mum calls her from time to time for a check in about how you’re doing. It started after you left. Jane called your mum to see if you two had been in touch, and it continued from there. I guess she didn’t know how to approach you with the subject.”

“We used to share everything with each other.”

“Things between you two, they’re not the same. Give it time, you’ll soon be back on track.”

“Things
have
changed around here, Dennis. But in many ways, not so much.” She would be damned if she would let her mum ruin her life for her just as she was getting back on track. “A dress shop co-owner, huh?”

“I don’t own it. Like she said, I do the books. The rest is all her.” He rubbed her shoulder, concern in his eyes.

“Speaking of ‘all her,’ should I bare all on a burlesque stage?”

“Lola, I want to see you liberate yourself. If getting your sexy on for burlesque helps you find your way home, then I’m all for it. I’ll be up front cheering you on.”

“Up front? No, Dennis, you’ll be waiting in the wings, calming my nerves.”

“I can live with that. Jane’s trying to give you something to pour your energy into. She can see that you feel lost. I see it, too. If you can’t do this for her, do it for me? I want to see you truly happy again.”

“Fine. For you, I’ll do it. Between the pair of you, you could probably get me to jump off a bloody cliff.”

Chapter Eight

Days had passed, and while Al was still out there, he hadn’t made any more moves to frighten her. And until Jane had reminded Lola about her mum phoning for updates, she’d seemed calmer, more herself.

She fiddled with the stapler on his organized desktop in the office at the back of Jane’s dress shop and thumbed through the pile of invoices he’d entered in the store’s accounting spreadsheet.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me tagging along to Torquay with you? The thought of Al being out there, watching me...” She pulled a face, her cute nose wrinkling and her brows raised. “I think I’d rather go home and face Mum than see Al right now.”

Anyone else but her, and he’d slap their fingers for interfering with his work. When it came to Lola, though, he was at her mercy. Her curvaceous body tucked into a jersey dress clinging to her every bump and dip, her big curls, and that pout. She’d get away with anything she pleased.

“Not at all. I’d love you to join me. It’s not like spending time with you on the coast will be a hardship.” Tapping her fingers on his black, glossy mouse pad, she sighed. Her fidgeting distracted him from the remaining bills he had to get through; he’d much rather swipe the desk clean and throw her over it than finish the accounts. Biting his tongue, he said, “But I have to get these done before we go. Won’t take me long, promise.”

“I can’t stop wondering why Mum called Jane looking for me. Something must be wrong.”

“You’re going crazy with worry, plus your big show is tomorrow night. You need a distraction.” He tucked the paperwork to his left, away from her grasp. “A trip home might do you good.”

Flicking her lower lip between her teeth, she stared at the floor. “Then again, it’s what Mum always used to do. She’d make like something was wrong so I’d rush to see her, only to discover it was all about the money. Maybe rushing back will drag everything to the surface and mess my life up even worse?”

“How about this,” he offered. “We’ll drive to the coast. If by the time we get to Torquay you’ve decided you don’t want to see her, we’ll grab lunch and enjoy some alone time instead. And even if you do visit with your mum, we can still make time to hang at our old haunts, maybe catch a wave or two…who knows? Just don’t let me sleep in. I need to be fresh for the interview at first light.”

“Alone time at the beach. Lovely.” The sparkle returned to her gaze. “But I can’t promise a restful evening. Fun, yes. But restful? Nope. No can do.”

“I look forward to it.” He slid his reading glasses down to get a clear vision of his Lola. “It’s been fun these last few days, having the trio back together, but…”

“But you’re not a fan of girl talk, swapping makeup tips, or dance rehearsals, I get it.” Slipping her arms out of her knit dress so the garment sat at her waist, she smirked. “And I’m not a fan of numbers and additions and being stuck in this bland white box at the back of London’s most colorful and glitzy dress store.” She wiggled so her dress fell to the floor and cocked a hip. Her impromptu strip caused a stir in his pants. Lean physique, tiny waist, and full pout; hot damn, he wanted to act on the growing throb she stirred. And he would once he’d filed the stupid invoices and calculated all the store’s outgoings for the week.

Focus.
“I had to argue ’til death to stop Jane from attacking this space with paint brushes or a hot glue gun. I like white. It’s neutral and bright.”

“She is strong-willed, so good on you for winning that battle.” Lola parked on the corner of his desk, hitching her leg so her smooth and toned thigh sat inches from his reach. She caught his stare in hers and lifted a brow. “I’ve an idea. Why don’t you distract me?”

“I’ve got to get this finished.” He loved the way her mouth curled into a slight smile, so cheeky, and more becoming than her stiff, focused-on-training expression from their high school days.

“Can’t you do this later? Or tomorrow?”

Standing, he stalked toward her. “I’ve got that interview, remember? These books need to be in order so the accountant I convinced Jane to hire to take over for me will know what’s what. If I get the job, I need to know Jane will be okay. So it’s now or never.”

“You won’t start there and then after the interview, will you?”

“No, no. They’re still finishing up the build and sorting out finances.”

“Your eyes light up when you talk numbers, did anyone ever tell you that?” She licked her lips. Her rose-glossed lips…her full, plump, rose-glossed lips.

Mmm.

“Do
me
instead of those stupid sums?”

“Hmm, do you? Gladly, in a minute.” He grabbed the pile of invoices from repeat vendors and shoved them back in the filing cabinet in the ‘to do’ folder to sort another day.

She leaned forward and pouted. Her boobs, squeezed into a black push-up, so full and pert, lured him in to strip her and take her.

“I really need to finish this.” He returned to his desk and punched in numbers on the calculator.

She stared at him through long lashes and reached around her back. She thumbed and fiddled with what he assumed was the bra clasp then let the flimsy material fall to the floor. Pert breasts with rosy, hard nubs tempted him to dip in for a nibble.

Resistance throbbed beneath his pants and pulled his shoulders taut. Never had he wanted to snog a woman so badly. “I want to kiss you. We have all this privacy. Locked in with all the shutters down.”

“Can’t.” She shooed him away. “You’ve got numbers to crunch, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He yanked her in close, her warmth pressing against his chest, and her toned thigh edged between his. “Numbers can wait. My hot girl is flaunting her tits at me. Work can definitely wait.”

She reeled back. In her wake, coldness snaked over him. “You should get your work done. Faster you’re finished, the faster we can play.”

The harsh strip lighting of the office shimmered over her pale skin and highlighted the darker skin framing the peaks of her breasts and the thick curls at the juncture of her thighs. How he wanted to taste her. He couldn’t glance away. Not even for a second. Transfixed, he leaned in and flicked his tongue over her nipple. She arched into his touch and let out the sweetest moan. Her cry of delight egged him on, and he caught her gaze with his and licked her again. Her eyes darkened, and her mouth rounded. He needed to be inside her. It crossed his mind to drop his pants right there. A rumble grew in his throat and emerged as a low, guttural groan over her tit. She leaned back and wiggled her finger at him. “Consider that a free sample. I only took my bra off so I could go try on new ones in the store.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Chop, chop. Get to work.”

“Yes, work,” he said, dazed. And then it hit him. “Hey. Tease.”

“Wish I’d have known this would take more than an hour. I’d have brought something to do.”