Charade

by Barri Bryan

  It was too late now to correct her error. She'd have to make the best of a bad situation. Laying her hand on Trace's arm, she smiled into his eyes. “You like my dress, don't you darling?"

  Trace's mouth pulled into a thin-lipped smile. “Sweetheart, you know how I feel about how you look tonight."

  He was supposed to say that she looked very sexy. When they got out of here, she was going to break his neck. The band struck the first chord of a lively polka. Over the sudden noise, she answered, “Of course I do, dear."

  Trace jumped to his feet, and taking Lynn's hand pulled her to a standing position. “You folks don't mind if we get a bite to eat do you?"

  It was difficult to tell which parent had been more surprised by the actions of their children or more relieved to see them temporarily taking their leave. Ralph's face was a thundercloud. “We don't mind if you go and don't come back."

  Lillie looked ready to explode. “Lynn, go yes, please, but remember I want to talk to you later."

  "Yes Mother, later.” Lynn wanted to get away before her mother launched here and now into a lecture about dressing appropriately, decent behavior in public and God only knew what else.

  Trace seemed in no hurry to go anywhere. “Would the two of you like something?"

  In chorus the two parents answered, “No, go."

  Lynn gave Trace's arm a tug. “Come along, darling.” Once out of earshot of Lillie and Ralph, she snapped, “You are not going along with our planned scenario."

  Trace barked in return, “Am too.” They made their way to the snack bar and the back of a short line. The two couples in front of them turned to stare.

  Trace stared back as he moved nearer Lynn and put his arm around her waist. “What do you want to eat?"

  Lynn's stomach was too full of butterflies to accept food. “I'm not hungry.” What she needed was something to bolster her courage and help her get through this evening. “I would like a shot of whiskey, straight."

  Trace frowned. “Do you think that's a good idea?"

  Lynn hissed under her breath, “Order me a shot of whiskey and shut up."

  Trace ordered the whiskey and a beer and handed the shot glass to Lynn. She downed it in two gulps. It seared a path all the way to her empty stomach. When she could find her voice, she said, “I have a few things to say to you, Mister Randolph."

  "I have a thing or two to say to you, too.” Trace took a long swig of beer. “Come closer and smile as we talk. Dad and Lillie are both looking this way."

  Lynn moved so near that her breasts pushed into Trace's chest and smiled a saccharine-sweet smile. “You rat, why didn't you say I looked sexy? If we are going do this thing right, you are going to have to be a little more cooperative."

  "Why should I state the obvious?” Trace stared down at her with the strangest look in his eyes. “How could you wear such a revealing dress to a public gathering?” He ran his hand along Lynn's cheek. His touch was soft but his words stung. “Do you realize that half the men in this building are staring at you?"

  Lynn looped her arms around his neck. A tingle danced down her backbone. “That doesn't matter..."

  Trace brushed his lips across her cheek. “It matters to me. What must they think of you?"

  Lynn couldn't imagine why Trace would care what other people thought. “It's what my mother and your dad think that counts.” She ran the tips of her fingers down the side of his face. It was difficult to concentrate when she was touching him so intimately. “Let's get this over so I can go home and get out of these shoes."

  The bartender called from the other side of the counter. “Hey, you two love birds, move along. The people behind you are waiting to be served."

  Trace caught Lynn's hand and pulled her to a shadowy corner. “Let's give Mama and Daddy and all the other gawkers out there something to talk about.” He was furious and Lynn couldn't imagine why.

  On an answering spark of anger she replied, “Yes, let's."

  Trace pulled her into his arms and held her so close that it was difficult for her to breathe. Slowly and deliberately he brought his mouth down to cover hers. Leisurely and very gently he used his tongue to tease open her lips. A shiver of desire danced down her backbone. He smelled of some exotic aftershave and tasted of beer and mint. His tongue swept into the recesses and crevasses of her mouth, stirring need and igniting little flames of desire.

  Lynn's anger transmuted to something far more combustible and explosive—and dangerous. Heedless of the warning bell that sounded inside her head, she gave herself over to the unexpected magic of Trace's kiss. The Grange Hall and the people in it receded as she was transported to another world filled with bliss and promise.

  How long they stood there locked in a passionate embrace, she would never know. Ralph's gruff voice barking, “Stop this lewd behavior this instant,” brought Lynn back to reality with a start. She pulled her reluctant body from Trace's embrace and smoothed the front of her now-infamous red dress.

  "Shame on you,” Ralph shook his finger in Trace's face before pointing it in Lynn's direction. “Young woman, don't you have any pride or shame? How can you behave in such a despicable manner in a public place?"

  He drew a long breath and was set to launch into yet another tirade when Lillie came bounding across the long hall and stepped between Lynn and Ralph. “You can't talk to my daughter like that.” She put both hands on her hips and glared at Ralph through narrowed eyes. “Your son is the one with no pride and no shame. He's turned my Lynnie's head with his sweet words and beguiling ways."

  If the situation weren't so grave it would be hilariously funny. Trace didn't know how to speak sweet words and his ways were about as beguiling as a skunk with his tail over his back. Lynn pleaded, “Mother, please..."

  The tension in the room rose and sparked as Lillie turned to confront her daughter. “You.” She wagged her finger in Lynn's direction. “Stay out of this."

  Lynn had never seen her mother so angry. Maybe it was time she told Lillie the truth. “Please, this is not what it seems. I can explain..."

  Lillie snorted, “I thought after Joel you'd learned your lesson. Obviously you haven't.” Before Lynn could come to her own defense, Lillie rounded once more on Trace. “You low-class varmint, how can you be so disrespectful of my daughter?"

  Trace lifted one hand. “Mrs. McGuire, Lillie, I do respect Lynn.” He twisted his neck and ran his finger around his shirt collar. “Can we sit down and talk about this?"

  Ralph moved to stand beside his son as he said to Lillie, “Your daughter comes here with my son in that dress and you expect him to respect her?” He swung one arm in an all-encompassing gesture. “Do you think any man in this hall respects her?"

  Lillie, the usually meek and mild Lillie, lashed out with a fury that startled Lynn and caused Ralph to take a step backward. “My daughter never behaved like this until your son came along. It's his fault. He has corrupted her completely."

  By now every person in the long hall was staring at the arguing foursome. Lynn could never remember being so embarrassed. She wanted out of there and the faster the better. She put her hand on her mother's arm. “I'm going home. We can talk tomorrow.” Nodding to Trace she said, “Let's go."

  Lillie shook her arm free. “You can't leave with that depraved man."

  Lynn sidled toward the door. “I'll be all right. I'll call you tomorrow.” She hurried away with Trace following close behind.

  She should be elated. She and Trace had done what they'd set out to do. But all Lynn felt was a sense of restless remorse.

  Lillie called after the departing couple, “Come back here."

  Ralph added an emphatic, “Right now."

  Lynn quickened her pace. She didn't look back until she was out the door. When she glanced over her shoulder Trace was a few paces behind. Neither Lillie nor Ralph were anywhere in sight. She quickened her steps and traveled across the parking lot as swiftly as her stiletto heels would let her move.

  They were i
n Trace's pickup and far down the road before either of them spoke again. Finally, Trace glanced briefly in Lynn's direction. “Do you think we did the right thing?"

  It was too late to worry about that now. Lynn leaned her head against the seat. “Right or wrong, what's done is done."

  Chapter 10

  Trace pulled his pickup into the parking slot behind The Upper Crust Bakery and Specialty Shoppe, stopped, set his brake and turned to face Lynn. Being so near her, holding her and kissing her, had his body pulsating with desire. The steam from his passion fogged his brain and made lucid thinking impossible. He wanted to lash out at the woman who sat so near him. He also wanted to take her in his arms and make passionate love to her.

  "We did what we set out to do. Now get upstairs and take that ridiculous dress off and don't ever wear it in public again."

  What was wrong with him? He was behaving as if he had every right to dictate to Lynn Evans what she could and could not wear. Quickly he apologized. “I'm sorry.” Damn. It seemed all he did lately was apologize.

  Much to his surprise Lynn nodded her head in agreement. “You're right. I should never have worn it in the first place, but Ruthie said..."

  Trace's head snapped back in astonishment. “Ruthie advised you to wear that dress?"

  Lynn admitted reluctantly, “Well ... yes."

  "Why would you take that girl's advice about anything? She's obviously not playing with a full deck."

  Lynn came immediately to Ruthie's defense. “Don't make nasty remarks about Ruthie. She may be a little slow in some ways but she has her moments.” After an instant's consideration she added, “She knows how to attract men."

  Trace couldn't believe that an intelligent woman like Lynn would take the advice of a feather-brain like Ruthie about anything.

  "That's not knowledge, it's instinct.” Was it possible that Lynn was that ignorant about something as basic and elemental as how to get a man's attention? That didn't seem possible; at the same time it seemed to be true. He would think about that later when he wasn't so tense and aroused.

  Lynn put her head to her hands. “I feel a little light-headed."

  Trace wasn't surprised. Less than thirty minutes ago she'd downed a jigger of whiskey straight. He should put some distance between them by telling her to get out of his pickup, go upstairs and get in bed. He should, but he didn't. Instead he said, “I'll be here tomorrow at six-thirty to pick you up for your class reunion."

  He felt his body tighten even more. In that dress, with a street light shining on her hair and spilling onto her face, she was breathtakingly beautiful. Get out of here Randolph, while you still can.

  Lynn's breasts moved seductively as she reached for the door handle. “You won't be working here tomorrow?"

  Trace swallowed deeply. “No, I have to complete a repair job over on Jasmine Street."

  Lynn opened the door and got out of the car before once more putting her hand to her head. “Wow, that whiskey had a kick.” She walked toward the stairs that led to her apartment on unsteady legs. She was halfway up the steps when Trace spied her handbag on the seat beside him.

  He grabbed it, jumped from his pickup and raced after her. “You left your handbag."

  Lynn turned and almost lost her balance.

  Trace shouted. “Stand still. Don't move.” He raced to her side, hooked her handbag over one arm and put his other arm around her waist. Her skin was warm and moist beneath the thin material of her dress. “Let me help you up the stairs."

  Lynn grabbed the handrail with her free hand. “It's these damned shoes."

  They maneuvered up the stairs and onto the landing. Once there, a winded Lynn leaned against the banister. “My key is in my handbag."

  Trace fished around inside the bag, found the key and opened the door.

  Lynn went inside and kicked her shoes off her feet. They flew across the floor and landed in a far corner. “I will never wear those uncomfortable things again."

  Trace knew he should run, not walk, down those stairs, get into his pickup and hightail it out of there. What he knew and what he did were two different things.

  Following Lynn into her apartment, he tossed her handbag on the table and laid her door key beside it. “What you need is a strong cup of coffee.” He moved in the direction of the kitchen. “I'll make some."

  Lynn padded after him. “I could use some food, too. I haven't eaten since noon. Are you hungry?"

  The hunger that gnawed at Trace had nothing to do with food. “I had dinner."

  Lynn opened the refrigerator and leaned over to rummage around on a lower shelf. Her well-shaped derriere was abundantly displayed. “I don't see anything I want."

  Trace saw exactly what he wanted. His mind argued even as his body yearned. Don't even think about it. When did passion ever heed the warnings of common sense? He moved to stand directly behind her. When Lynn turned he was so near they were almost touching. Inanely he uttered a breathy little “Hi.” He noted that she seemed much tinier without her stiletto heels.

  Lynn held a package of cookies in one hand and a quart of milk in the other. Her voice was soft and seductive. “Hi yourself."

  Her nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her dress. Good God! She was as hot and bothered as he was. Trace took the milk and cookies, and backed toward the table before turning quickly to set them down. Had she seen the obvious evidence of his arousal?

  Lynn asked on the end of a caught breath, “Trace?"

  With his back to her, Trace answered, “Yes?"

  There comes a time in every situation when a man reaches a point of no return. Trace knew if he turned to face Lynn now, he would reach that point.

  Lynn whispered, “Will you turn around?"

  He couldn't, not until he was certain she wanted this encounter as badly as he did. “Are you sure that's what you want?"

  Her hand was warm on his shoulder. “I'm sure."

  That was all the encouragement Trace needed. Turning he swept her into his arms. Her body was soft and warm against his. For long moments he held her, intoxicated by her heady scent and captivated by her aura of femininity. His fogged brain chanted, no, no, no. His aching body knew only need and desire.

  Lifting Lynn into his arms he carried her to the bedroom, set her on her feet and took her face in his hands. “I want you, Lynn Evans.” He added in a lower, huskier tone, “So very much."

  A soft night light burning on a nightstand cast long shadows across her face, emphasizing the incredible sweep of her long dark lashes, and accentuating the soft lines and planes. “I want you too, Trace Randolph."

  Trace drew her even closer and shaped the fullness of her lips with his tongue before asking, “How do I get you out of this dress?"

  A shudder ran through her body as she rested her head against the wall of his chest. “Can you feel the little hook and eye at the neck?"

  Trace found the neck of her dress. “What now?” His hands shook and his breath came in little gasps.

  Lynn laughed deep in her throat, sending a wave of desire rippling through him. “It's really very simple, just take the hook from the eye, find the tip of the zipper beneath it, and pull down."

  Trace unfastened the hook and was reaching for the zipper when the brightness of a sane thought pierced the fog of his passion-addled brain. Was he taking advantage of Lynn's slightly inebriated condition? He had to know, because if that were the case, as badly as he wanted this sweet coming together, he would be out the door and down the stairs in the wink of an eye. Leaning back he studied her face. “Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

  Lynn wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed her body into his hardness. “I know exactly what I'm doing, and I know exactly what I want. Make love to me."

  Trace's last reservation fell away. He unzipped the dress and watched as she stepped back and slipped it from her shoulders. It fell around her feet.

  She wore only a pair of bikini panties. Her large, perfectly formed breasts swaye
d seductively as she shed her panties and tossed them away.

  Trace's breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful—all white and ivory, with that mane of red hair that matched so well the thatch of red between her legs. He yanked at the grippers on his shirt as the need to be near her, on her, in her, cast out every other thought and resolve.

  Lynn tugged at one shirt sleeve. His arm slid free, first one and then the other. She tossed the shirt aside as Trace unfastened his belt.

  Over the click of his buckle he said, “That dress didn't do you justice. My God, you are beautiful.” He shed his pants and underwear and left them where they fell. Lifting Lynn into his arms, he laid her gently on the bed before coming down beside her. He took her in his arms and brushed his lips through her hair. “I want to make love to you."

  She ran one smooth hand over his shoulder and down his back. “That's what I want too.” Pushing back, she stared up into his eyes and said, “I hope you won't be disappointed."

  Later Trace would look back and ponder those words. Now he was so lost in the magic that was spinning between him and this warm, willing woman that he brushed them aside without further thought. “I won't be, and neither will you, I promise."

  The heat of passion that had been smoldering through the long evening ignited and burst into a flaming conflagration. They came together in a firestorm of need and desire. Their bodies moved in exquisite harmony as they climbed higher and higher until they reached a peak of fiery delight that exploded in a shower of sensuous fulfillment.

  Afterward Trace wrapped Lynn in the warmth of his sheltering embrace. “Sleep now,” he whispered softly. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when he fell into a slumber reserved for those fortunate individuals who have experienced complete sexual satisfaction.

  Chapter 11

  Lynn woke with the feeling that all was right with the world. A bright sun shone through her bedroom window, spilling its brightness across the bed and onto the floor. Even before she stretched and turned to look, she knew Trace was gone. She wasn't surprised.

  Pushing a pillow behind her shoulders she leaned against the headboard as a smile spread across her face. Last night she had behaved like some wanton seductress, taking a near stranger into her bed and letting him make passionate love to her; not once but over and over again.