Two Sexy!

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Two Sexy! Page 13

by Stephanie Bond


  Jarett passed his hand over his mouth to wipe away the smile.

  For a few seconds, Taylor looked as if she might have a cramp, but she recovered nicely and took the note. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Very good,” Mac said, then donned his hat. “Cheerio.”

  Jarett closed the door, then scratched his temple, trying not to laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” Taylor said. “Anyway, how hard can it be to read to a bunch of kids?”

  “Meg used lots of gestures. And voices.”

  She frowned. “You’ll have to show me.”

  He lifted his hands. “I don’t know how she did it, she just…did it.”

  “Well, if Mort Heckel is going to be there, I have to be at least as good as she was!”

  He nodded.

  She sighed noisily. “I don’t suppose the little teacher would agree to teach me?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea.” But his heart was already lighter at the prospect of seeing Meg again. “Get dressed. I happen to know she’ll be at the shop today trying to repair the damage you caused. It’ll give you a chance to apologize and to thank her for what she did for you.”

  Taylor frowned, then took a drink from her cup. “Okay.” But on the way back to her room, she made a detour over to his bed and stooped to pick up something.

  Jarett frowned, craning his neck to see what had gotten her attention.

  Taylor turned and held up the tiny teal and black panties that Meg had been wearing last night. Worse, the strings that had held them together were mangled little corkscrews where he’d torn them off. Jarett choked on his coffee.

  Taylor cocked her head to one side. “Maybe you’d like to thank her for what she did for you, Jarett.”

  15

  “HANG ON, SIS,” Meg said. Pressing the phone against her side, she carried it into the supply closet so Rebecca wouldn’t hear all the construction noise in the background. She closed the door and sat down on a crate of magic wands. “Okay,” she said with as much breezy cheer as she could muster. “I’m back.”

  “Is something wrong?” Rebecca asked.

  “No, just noise from the street. I couldn’t hear.”

  “Since the shop is closed today, I wasn’t sure you’d be there. Why aren’t you out doing something fun?”

  Meg surveyed her dusty T-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes. “I was just getting ready to go to a movie.” If she told Rebecca what had happened, her sister would be worried to death. She’d find out about the fire when she returned home—after the repairs had been made. That would be soon enough.

  Rebecca made a rueful sound. “I hate that you’re there all alone. You must be bored to death.”

  “No, really, I’m fine.”

  Her sister laughed. “The shop isn’t very exciting, is it?”

  “Oh…it’s exciting enough,” Meg said, lifting the bandana tied around her head to tuck in a strand of dark blond hair—the color it had evolved to after a dozen washings. “So what’s this about you eloping?”

  “Oh, good, you did get my note!”

  Meg stared up at Harry, whose permanent grin lifted her spirits—a little. “Uh-huh. Interesting mode of delivery.”

  “Harry is special, Meg, I’m telling you. He’ll help you find the right guy. He helped me to find Michael.”

  “O-kaaaaay.” Surely her sister didn’t believe that matchmaking malarkey.

  Rebecca laughed. “You probably don’t believe in Harry because you’ve already found your man.”

  Meg didn’t want to go there.

  “How is Trey?”

  “Trey’s fine.”

  “You sound funny.”

  “Funny, ha ha, or funny, strange?”

  “Funny strange. Are you sure everything is okay between you two?”

  “As my second graders would say—everything’s fine as frog hair. But let’s talk about you. Eloping in Las Vegas, Rebecca? Tell me you didn’t have an Elvis wedding.”

  “No, we were married in a perfectly lovely little chapel. It was wonderful.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m sorry, Meg, but I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it.”

  “I probably would have tried, but only because you just broke up with Dickie not that long ago.”

  “You can say it, Meg—Dickie dumped me. And it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Otherwise, I might have married him and never known what I was missing. Michael is so wonderful.”

  Her sister’s tone made Meg wistful, but she was still concerned. “Are you sure he’s the one, sis? You two dated for such a short time.”

  “But I knew, Meg. I knew the first time he kissed me that he was the man I’d been waiting for.”

  Meg swallowed hard—is that why Jarett’s kisses had shaken her to the core? Then she rolled her eyes—if Jarett was the man she was waiting for, she’d be waiting a long, long time. I’m not the marrying kind. I enjoy my freedom. You had to respect a guy who told you up front that he had no intention of ever making a commitment.

  “Have you told Mom that you and Michael are married?”

  “I’m calling her next. Wish me luck.”

  “Okay, but you know how Mom is. Just re member, she means well. We both just want you to be happy.”

  “Oh, but I am, Meg. I am so happy.”

  Rebecca must be since every other word out of her mouth was italicized. “Good. Then congratulations, Mrs. Pierce.”

  “Thank you, thank you. Now, about Harry—”

  “Okay—enough. Surely you don’t expect me to believe that this inner tube has any kind of matchmaking ability?”

  “I know it sounds strange, Meg, but you have to trust me on this. Or if you don’t need Harry, you could pass him on to a single friend.”

  “I’m sure Kathie would get a kick out of him.”

  “Good, then plan to take Harry back to Peoria with you.”

  “Okay.” She shook her head over Rebecca’s fixation with the blow-up doll in the ugly pajamas.

  “Oh, I met your friend Quincy.”

  “He’s a gem, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he’s nice. He gave me a ticket to a fund-raising reception last night.”

  “Did you go?”

  Did she ever. “Yes.”

  “Did you meet anyone famous?”

  “Um…Taylor Gee was there.”

  “From Many Moons? Wow, I love that show.”

  “Yeah. Oh, I forgot to tell you. She was in the shop yesterday and practically emptied your wall of performance costumes.”

  Rebecca squealed. “You’re kidding? Taylor Gee is wearing my costumes—how cool is that?”

  “Very cool,” Meg agreed.

  “I saw on the news this morning that she was attacked last night at some hotel—that was in Chicago?”

  “Yeah, right down the road.”

  “Did you see it happen?”

  Meg wet her lips. “As a matter of fact, I did. Pretty scary stuff.”

  “I guess we’ll never know what those peoples’ lives are really like.”

  “I guess not.”

  “Well, I’d better let you go if you’re going to make that movie.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  “Listen, there’s a chance we might be home a little early.”

  Meg’s eyes widened. “Huh?”

  “Just a couple of days early. Don’t worry. I won’t send you back to Peoria right away,” Rebecca laughed. “A company is interested in talking to Michael about franchising the restaurant.”

  “That’s…great,” Meg said lightly. “When will you know?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll call you.”

  Meg’s mind raced. The drycleaners would be finished by the time she opened in the morning, but the contractors said they needed until Friday. “Okay,” Meg said. “Just keep me posted.”

  “You’re the best, sis. I know the shop is in good hands.”

  She grimaced. “Right. Have a good time.”
r />   Rebecca giggled. “Don’t worry.”

  Meg slowly disconnected the call, then squinted at the handset. Her older sister hadn’t giggled since they were kids. Michael Pierce was doing something for her, all right. She just hoped Rebecca hadn’t mistaken physical love for romantic love. In the throes of passion, it was easy to imagine yourself in love with the person with whom you were sharing such intense, exquisite, mind-blowing pleasure.

  Take Jarett Miller, hypothetically.

  Lying in his arms last night, joined intimately, and so…unbelievably in tune with each other, her mind had played tricks on her, spinning fantasies about a happily ever after with the man. It was absurd, of course, to think that someone like Jarett would give up his fast-paced lifestyle and carefree bachelor existence to settle for something as tedious as matrimony.

  It simply would never happen.

  Which was why, she conceded, women like her married men like Trey Carnegie. Men who valued tradition and who, despite their faults, were devoted to preserving their families.

  So what if Trey wasn’t the most inspired lover, or even that romantic. He was dependable. And maybe he didn’t try to catch her eye across a room, but he could always be counted on to contribute to any party conversation. And maybe he didn’t cry out her name when he made love to her, but he always made sure her favorite music was playing.

  “So, Harry,” she said, standing and dusting off the seat of her jeans. “Thanks, anyway, but I don’t need your services.”

  He grinned at her, and Meg shook her head at her sister’s nonsense. She was pleased that Rebecca seemed happy, but she would never believe in a million years that a rubber doll had conspired to get her sister and Michael together.

  But the doll made her think of Kathie, so she dialed her friend’s number, partly because she wanted to talk to her, and partly because she wasn’t ready to call Trey just yet to explain why she hadn’t called last night like she’d promised.

  Kathie answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Kathie, it’s Meg.”

  “Hi! How’s Chicago.”

  “It’s…great. How was the swap meet?”

  “Disappointing. The best item from Many Moons was the bookend that Polly threw at Dean.

  Supposedly. I didn’t buy it.”

  “Well, you’re not going to believe this—Taylor Gee is in Chicago.”

  “I know, I saw her on the news with red paint all over her.”

  Meg swallowed. “She came into the shop.”

  “She did not!”

  “She did, and I got you a signed autograph.”

  “Thank you!” Kathie sighed. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  Meg frowned. “What’s the worst?”

  “I was at the school yesterday evening for the kids’ Science Club meeting, and I heard that Wes Phillips is now being brought up before the school board on morality charges.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Apparently, someone saw him leaving a bachelor party at a strip club.”

  She frowned. “That sounds pretty harmless.”

  “They’re on a witch hunt, Meg. Three firings in the county yesterday alone. The superintendent is out to make a political name for himself.”

  Meg closed her eyes briefly. If they knew what she’d done last night, she’d be fired for sure. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Kathie.”

  “It isn’t fair. I won’t work for a school system that holds its teachers up to some ambiguous ideal, but pays them like paupers.”

  Meg sighed. “You’re right—it affects us all.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Everyone agrees that when you get back, you should be our spokesperson and address the school board on our behalf.”

  “Me?” Meg croaked.

  Kathie laughed. “You are the Teacher of the Year for the entire state of Illinois.”

  “Right,” Meg said, pressing her hand against her forehead. “We’ll talk about it when I get back, okay?”

  “Sure. I didn’t mean to bring you down. Have a good time.”

  “I will,” Meg said weakly. She disconnected the call and leaned against the doorjamb. What was she thinking when she agreed to go along with that stunt last night? Not about her future, obviously.

  With a sigh, she opened the supply closet door in time to hear the bell ring on the front door.

  More contractors? She set down the phone and walked out into the showroom, surveying the demolition of the burned dressing room.

  “Hidy-ho,” Quincy said, waving from the doorway. He was out of uniform, dressed casually. “Come on in,” she said. “If you don’t mind the dust.”

  He walked in and waved to the guys hefting sledgehammers, then turned a wide smile her way. “I missed you last night, so I thought I’d stop by to check on you.”

  “Oh. Right,” she said, nodding. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you—something came up. I went early, then had to leave.”

  “I know. I talked to Taylor Gee and she told me.” “Oh. Good.”

  He leaned forward. “Is she gorgeous, or what?”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean—” She had to focus. “Thank you…for taking the time to ask about me.”

  “Oh, sure. You know, she was much nicer than I thought she would be. And she was really good with the kiddos.”

  Meg nodded. “Good.”

  “Just goes to show that you can’t judge people.”

  “Right.”

  He grinned. “And I got a look at that bodacious bodyguard of hers. You’re right—I definitely think they’re an item.”

  Meg blinked. “Huh? Why?”

  “Because the man couldn’t take his eyes off her all night. And I should know, because I couldn’t take my eyes off him all night.” He elbowed her and laughed.

  She laughed, then gestured vaguely. “Wait, go back to that first part—you think that her bodyguard has the hots for her?”

  “Oh, yeah. Not that every other straight man in the room didn’t have a woody for her too, but she saved that gorgeous smile for him.”

  She swallowed hard. “It was that obvious, huh?”

  “Yeah. It kind of surprised me after you said that they seemed mismatched.”

  “Well, I—”

  “If you ask me, they were gone over each other.”

  Meg grinned and bit into her lip. “You think so?” “Totally. So did she cough up the cash for the repairs?” “Hmm? Oh, yeah.”

  “After I met her, I knew she would. Say, she didn’t happen to send me anything, did she?”

  “Hmm?”

  “She said she’d leave an autographed photo here at the store.”

  “Oh, I forgot.”

  He frowned. “Forgot to what?”

  “Um, I forgot to—” she pointed to the sledge hammer guys “—thank you for giving me the name of this contractor.”

  “Sure.” He angled his head. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. I’m fine.” She let out a loud breath and fanned herself. “Whew—all the dust is getting to me.”

  He peered closer. “There’s something on your face.”

  “What?”

  He lifted a long finger. “It’s in your eyebrow.

  It looks like…” He scratched at her skin lightly, then held up his finger. “Red paint.”

  “Hmm.” She tugged at her T-shirt collar. “It must be from the construction in here.”

  He turned around, as if expecting to see open buckets of red paint around the shop. She kept tugging.

  He turned back toward her. “Hey…did you hear that Taylor Gee was attacked last night when she returned to her hotel?”

  “Uh, no, I hadn’t…heard.”

  “It was in the paper this morning,” he mused. “Some nut threw—” he looked at his finger “—red paint all over her.”

  She forced herself to look surprised. “Really?”

  “Really.”
<
br />   Quincy pulled back to look at her. “Doing something different with your hair?”

  She touched the bandana. “I thought I’d cover it until…later.”

  He pulled at his chin. “And you’ve been in the sun, too. You know, Meg, without your glasses—”

  The bell on the door rang, and she turned, grateful for the interruption.

  She greeted the tall, thin man and explained they were closed. He looked vaguely familiar.

  “Meg Valentine?” he asked.

  “Yes. Who are you?”

  “Phil Shotz from the Tribune.”

  “Can I help you?”

  “Are you the same Meg Valentine who was just named Teacher of the Year?”

  She swallowed. “Y-yes.”

  He smiled, revealing braces, and she suddenly recognized him as the nosy reporter from the previous night. Panic bolted through her.

  “I’d like to talk to you about Taylor Gee.”

  16

  MEG’S STOMACH DROPPED. She glanced to Quincy, then back to the man, trying to remain calm. “I’m sorry, the shop is closed. If you’d like to talk about my award, you’ll have to arrange it through the school where I teach. That’s all I can help you with.”

  Quincy straightened and leveled his gaze at the man. “In other words, I think you need to leave.”

  The man looked past him and smiled. “Miss Valentine, I know what happened last night. I followed you, and I have the photos to prove it.”

  She had to fight to keep her knees from buck ling. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He held up a business card. “Yes, you do. If you want the photos and the negatives, my fee is on the back. Call me by the end of the day. Otherwise, they’re going to be plastered all over the Internet.” He turned and left the shop.

  Meg’s throat convulsed, and she sank against the counter, blinking back tears. Her life was over.

  Quincy was immediately by her side. “Was he talking about what I think he was talking about?”

  She closed her eyes and nodded.

  “That was you last night?”

  “Can you believe it?”

  “Well, you look like her, but…no, I can’t believe it.”

  “It’s a long story,” Meg said, “but basically I’m in a lot of trouble. If my school board finds out that I dressed up like a sex kitten…” She groaned. “Quincy, can you stay here with the contractors? I need to go see someone.”

 

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