I nodded again.
“Oh, honey. Let’s see what I’ve got!”
For the rest of the day, the loot Angela gave me taunted me from its pretty pink bags. Thinking about the items made me by turns embarrassed, excited, curious, and hopeful. The mission statement at Booms and Nibbles was all about helping women feel good about their body, whatever that body looked like. I’d seen lots of campaigns celebrating curves and full-figured women in an effort to help them recognize how beautiful they were. I’d never seen the same focus on bodies like mine because too many people just assumed that since I was skinny, I was happy with my body. It was amazing to work with women who understood that self-image issues came in all shapes and sizes.
Maybe it was time to start loving myself.
Anxious to get home and check everything out in the privacy of my bedroom, I couldn’t wait for the day to end. I waited and waited for Mr. Jennings to get off the phone so I could check in with him before he left, but finally, my patience ran out.
I stepped across the hall to Tessa’s office and peeked through the door when she called, “Come in.”
“Do you think I need to stay late since Mr. Jennings is? He’s on the phone, so I hate to interrupt him to ask.”
Tessa glanced through the glass walls that formed hers and Mr. Jennings’s offices. “No, don’t worry about it. I know you’re still working out your notice at the restaurant.”
I’d never explained to her that I’d been fired the same night she’d hired me. It wouldn’t exactly look great to a new employer. “Thank you. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Definitely. You’ve been doing great so far, by the way.”
Her gentle praise meant more than she probably realized. “Thank you. I’ve enjoyed it.”
I probably should have said as much—or at least have been more enthusiastic. Hopefully, she’d know I appreciated her anyway.
When I got home, I put the bags down on the counter in my kitchen instead of running straight up to my room to try things on. It was past six o’clock, and I’d somehow managed to skip lunch. I was starving. But when I opened my fridge, I didn’t have much to eat. I’d finished everything I’d bought when I went shopping with Damien, and I no longer had food from the restaurant to bridge the gap.
Peanut butter and jelly it was. There were worse things.
I had just set out everything I needed and scooped out a spoonful of peanut butter when my doorbell rang disjointedly, as if it had been hit a second time in the middle of the first ring. Only Damien would be that impatient.
Normally, I would have at least acted grumpy about the intrusion, but happiness was just sort of spilling out of me. I rushed to the door and flung it open. And then I smiled at him.
Truly. Sincerely. Full-out smiled.
Damien blinked at me over a big paper sack from a local BBQ joint. He stepped back and looked around. “Am I at the right door?”
“Oh, shut up.”
He grinned. “Yep. There’s my favorite sourpuss. Now let me in. This is heavy.”
“Whatever.” I hadn’t forgotten how easily he’d carried me across the yard the other night. But I stepped back and let him through.
When he got to the kitchen, he looked for a place to set everything down. With my sandwich makings spread out on the main section, he opted to push my pink bags out of the way to make room for his. I watched in horror as one of mine fell off the edge, spilling out all over the floor.
And, of course, it wasn’t the one with swimsuits in it.
“Oh, sorry,” Damien said, squatting down automatically to pick it all up.
Lunging forward, I squatted down too, trying to reach it before he did. I knocked my knees into his but didn’t care in my blind rush to grab the bralette out of his hand. Because, of course, he was faster than I was.
For a long moment, we froze, both of staring down at the scrap of lace between us.
“What is this thing?”
I tried to snatch it away, but he was also stronger than me, and I didn’t want to test how well it held up to tugging. Although maybe that was something Angela would appreciate knowing. For a moment, I imagined myself telling her, “The eyelash lace on the plunge bralette just couldn’t hold up to a man yanking on it.”
And then I literally snorted with laughter and let go to slap my hand over my mouth.
Now in full possession of my loot, Damien stood up again and held it up in two hands. As I also stood up and reached for it, he stepped back, turning it over as he tried to figure it out. “Is this a…” He dropped his hands, still holding on to it, and made a sweeping motion over his chest.
“It’s a bralette.” I grabbed it from him and held it up the right way around.
“But where are the straps?”
Were we really having this conversation? “This one goes around your neck. It’s designed to show through your shirt.”
His eyebrows rose. “Okay. I thought girls didn’t want their bras to show.”
I shrugged. “It’s all new to me too, but I promised this lady at work that I’d try them out and let her know what I thought.”
“Isn’t it kind of little?”
My cheeks went hot. I stuffed it back into the bag and picked up the other two from the floor. “Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of little.”
“No…little wasn’t the right word. Skimpy. Like, you wouldn’t really wear that where people could see…things…right?”
He looked both shocked and very much against the idea. I had no idea why he cared so much, but it wasn’t a hard question. “I personally wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t mind feeling sexier, you know. I think that’s the point. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”
“No. You should feel sexy. You are sexy.” Then he shut his mouth and clenched his teeth as if that was the only way to stop the flow of words pouring out of his mouth,
It was at that point that Damien and I both seemed to realize that we’d crossed a few socially acceptable lines in this conversation. He looked sort of tense and…awkward…and I felt way too warm.
“See, this should be a girl conversation,” I said, shoving the pink bags to the back corner of the counter. “But I’m a weirdo with no girlfriends.” Now I was just talking out of sheer embarrassment. Why did I always act so differently around Damien than anybody else I knew? “But you said periods were no big deal because you have sisters. This shouldn’t be different.”
“Yeah, well, it turns out it is different because you aren’t my sister. Not even close. But don’t stop talking to me. I don’t care what we talk about. I’m just thrilled you’re talking to me. I didn’t know you could be such a chatterbox.”
“Me either. I’m not sure it’s a good thing.”
He smiled and reached for the take-out bag. “I’ll be sure for both of us. Okay, no more bra-litas or whatever—”
“Bralettes.”
“Yeah, those. Let’s talk about the wedding.”
“I’m not marrying you just because you saw my underwear.”
Damien froze in the middle of setting a Styrofoam container on the counter. For three beautiful seconds, he looked like a goldfish with giant eyes and a gaping mouth.
Delighted at his reaction, I burst out laughing. “I wish you could see your face. I know what you meant. Your cousin’s wedding. But you promised not to ask again, and I’m still not going.”
He relaxed. “I know, but there’s been a new development. My mom told my sisters about you, and now they’re all dying to meet you, because unlike her, they don’t want to hook me up with my ex-girlfriend.”
“Wait. There’s a whole lot to untangle there. Your mom is trying to hook you up with your ex-girlfriend? That’s why you need a fake date for the wedding?”
He nodded. “Yeah, she loves Tori, but I, obviously, do not. I’m not sure what she thinks she’s going to accomplish by forcing us together. Tori has made it obvious that she wants to get back together, so if I had any desire to do so, I
wouldn’t need Mom to make it happen.”
“That’s messed up.”
“Yeah. And that’s why I need your protection. Don’t you feel bad for me?”
“Not enough to face your mother—who already hates me—your ex-girlfriend, and all three of your sisters. Sorry not sorry.”
He sighed. “Here. Have some brisket.”
I took it from him without a word. Even though I was actually starting to soften to the idea. And I think he knew it.
All the more reason for me to stop hanging out with him so much.
Starting right after we ate all the smoked meat he’d brought over.
Chapter Twelve
As it turned out, avoiding Damien over the weekend was easier than I’d expected since he went on a camping trip with some of his buddies. Why anyone would want to sleep in a tent when it was so cold was beyond me. But even without Damien popping in unexpectedly, my mind kept turning back to him.
A crush would have been better. That I could live with. But this friendship thing was dangerous.
He had managed to sneak his way beneath my radar and tangle our lives up to the extent that I didn’t know how to extricate myself. I had learned very early on that other people, no matter how much I liked them, were temporary passers-through in my life—like my dad, a stepdad, several of my mom’s boyfriends, two stepbrothers, and a sweet neighbor lady who was the closest thing to a grandma I’d ever had. I’d even made a friend when I was fourteen—a loud, aggressively protective girl who helped me survive eighth grade as the only girl whose boobs didn’t grow in. But because of my mom’s romantic failures, she’d continually torn me up, broken any roots I’d put down, and moved me on to a new lonely existence.
So I knew from experience that keeping to myself was key to self-preservation. Losing people hurt too much.
Which is why it made absolutely no sense that even after realizing the trouble I was in, I tangled my life with Damien’s even further. But in my defense, Tessa needed help.
Monday was the lamest day of the year—Valentine’s Day. I’d completely forgotten about it until I arrived at work and saw flowers and a heart-shaped box of chocolates on the receptionist’s desk. When I walked by Tessa’s office, I saw that she, too, had been visited by the Valentine fairy. A teddy bear which probably weighed as much as I did regarded me solemnly with his black, unblinking stare. Unlike the other women at work, however, the very public display threw Tessa into a panic. I’d come to think of Mr. Jennings as an intelligent man, so I had no idea why he’d made this misstep. Probably because he’d gone out of town and guilt had overcome his common sense.
So he wasn’t there to see all the women crowding into Tessa’s office, begging her to divulge her Valentine’s identity. I watched her struggles through the day, wishing I could help somehow. Finally, Mr. Jennings sent me an email that gave me the perfect excuse to go talk to her. As soon as I saw Angela leave, I headed across the hall to Tessa’s office.
I glanced through the glass before I knocked and saw her staring up at the ceiling like the solution to her crises might be written there. When I knocked, she jumped about four inches into the air. “Come in.”
If only I knew how to look concerned so she’d know I understood and was ready to help, but I probably more nearly resembled a dispassionate robot than an angel of mercy. “Mr. Jennings asked me to set up a meeting with you for five-fifteen.” I waited for her reply, but she’d gotten lost in her thoughts again. After a long pause, I finally prompted, “Miss Young?”
She blinked but still didn’t answer. Instead, she crossed the room to shut the door. “The meeting is fine. Can I ask you about something else?”
“Yes.” Ugh. I wouldn’t be able to help her if I kept being stiff and awkward like this.
Tessa definitely looked stressed as she clenched her hands together and sat on the edge of her desk. “Have you by any chance heard any rumors about me around the office today?”
“No,” I answered honestly, even though I knew where this was going. “But then, I’m not exactly friends with anyone. I doubt anyone would tell me even if there are rumors.”
“Angela told me that people think Logan and I are having a fling.”
Despite having all the sympathy for her in the world, her perplexity tugged at my sense of humor, making me smile slightly. It hadn’t been hard to figure out. Every look they shared, the way their tone of voice changed when they spoke to each other or about each other, and even their body language gave away their feelings. Mr. Jennings’s boneheaded gifts were just the latest and most obvious giveaway.
Honesty was surely the right way to deal with this. “Well, unless they were all blind, someone was bound to notice eventually.”
“And here I thought we were being careful.”
The fact that she was confiding in me meant a lot. It helped me relax and finally open up. At last, my tone softened and warmed. “Well, it’s not anything you’ve done. It’s just something that sort of hangs in the air between you two.”
“Ugh. What should I do now? I can’t have everyone thinking that, and I’ve just told Angela that I’m dating someone else, but how do I make them all believe it?”
I totally understood why they were trying to keep it a secret. Mr. Jennings had been brought in as a consultant to steer the company onto a more profitable path. Part of his job was making recommendations on everyone’s jobs—who should be kept, who should be promoted, and who should be fired. This wasn’t exactly the best situation for a romance. The optics around the office would be so bad. Well, if Tessa needed a boyfriend, someone who would convince people she’d actually be interested in him instead of Mr. Jennings, I knew just the guy. The only problem was that my only hope of getting Damien to do such a big favor was to do one for him in trade.
He just got himself a date to the wedding.
I braced myself for the inevitable and said, “Clearly you need to bring in the guy you’re dating.”
***
When I got home from work, my whole body jangled with nerves. As logical as it had seemed at work, and as willing as I was to do this for Tessa, actually talking to Damien about it had me completely keyed up. I still didn’t want to go with him, and I knew he would tease me ruthlessly about capitulating.
Maybe he would just agree, and I wouldn’t have to offer a trade of favors. Yes. I definitely needed to keep my desperation in my back pocket.
After parking in my garage, I folded my arms across my chest in an effort to stay warm against the freezing evening air and quick-walked over to Damien’s front door. Surely he was back from his camping trip by now.
I rang the doorbell and waited, rocking back and forth on my heels since I was sure I’d turn to ice if I stayed still. By the time I finally heard movement inside, I had lost my grip on the frayed edges of my temper. When the door opened to reveal Damien in all his golden-sheened, bare-abs glory again, I snapped. “Why aren’t you ever wearing a shirt when you answer the door?”
His brows lifted in surprise. “Why do you always ring my doorbell when I don’t have a shirt on?”
“Argh.” I gave such delightful, feminine responses when I was in a bad mood. “I’m freezing cold.”
“That’s because it’s thirty degrees outside.” He was so helpful.
I threw him a raging glare and pushed him backwards with both hands braced against his chest, because clearly he was more worried about giving me a hard time than letting me inside. But after stepping to the side to let me in, he stared down at my palms spread across his bare, shower-heated skin for several impossibly long seconds, then reached out and shut the door with more force than I expected.
Whether I jumped from that or the potent but unreadable expression in his eyes when he finally looked up, I didn’t know. Was this how pretty girls felt when men admired them?
Whoa! I needed to break the skin-to-skin contact with his amazing pectorals before my hands caught on fire.
Clenching them into fists at my side,
I ignored the strange atmosphere in the air around us and said, “I came to ask for a favor.”
“Well, you certainly know how to open negotiations.”
The combination of humor and understated innuendo in his voice derailed my composure. “It’s not like I planned on…” Helpless for words that wouldn’t make me blush, I waved in his general direction. “…facing a naked torso.”
As always, I was a tense, confused wreck while Damien managed to laugh. “You didn’t just face a naked torso, you grabbed it.”
“I didn’t grab it. I pushed it out of the way. There is a very big difference. Now, can we please go into your living room and have a calm, mature conversation?”
“It’s doubtful, but I don’t mind going to the living room. Although, the hallway is definitely cozier.”
Since there was barely a foot between us, cozy wasn’t something I could handle right then. I led the way, desperate for more space and more oxygen. As I headed for the couch, I saw one of his hoodies draped over the back of the big armchair next to the couch. Feeling like I’d found a life raft in the middle of the ocean, I grabbed it. “Put this on.”
Even though I chucked it at him with no warning, he caught it easily. As he pulled it on and tugged it down to cover his exposed skin, he smirked at me. “Seeing me without a shirt on must really unsettle you.”
“No. It’s just distracting.”
“It wouldn’t be if you didn’t like what you saw.”
I sat down on the very edge of the couch cushion furthest away from where he stood and glared up at him. “I’m not in the mood to feed your arrogance.”
“How else are you going to convince me to do this favor for you?” He paused, his eyes widening. “Wait…how big of a favor is this? Am I about to get a date to my cousin’s wedding?”
I pressed my lips together to keep from cursing. He was too quick. “Stop jumping to conclusions. You could do it out of the goodness of your heart.”
He turned and pulled the armchair over so that it was directly in front of me. When he sat down, his long legs didn’t leave much room between our knees, and when he bent toward me, I nearly suggested moving back to the comparatively spacious hallway. But he spoke before I could. “Let me hear what you want me to do before I agree on the terms.”
Oh, Keep Your Shirt On: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Shaped By Love Book 2) Page 8