by Jo Leigh
"What?"
"You didn't see that? If you'd ordered an appetizer I swear he would have proposed."
Susan got that look on her face. Disgust mixed with dismissal. "They're all slime. Every one."
"They are not. You're just mad at Larry and transferring your feelings to men in general."
"Thank you, Dr. Freud. But I know what I'm talking about. The problem with you, dearest Lee, is that you insist on anthropomorphizing men. You give them all the qualities of human beings and then it breaks your heart when they don't act human."
"I do not. I happen to like men. And just because I was hurt a few times doesn't mean all men are skunks."
"You mean Trevor isn't a skunk."
"That's right. He isn't. And neither is Ben or Peter."
"Fine. Three out of six million. And speaking of Trevor, how goes the quest?"
Before she could answer, Trevor, Ben and Katy arrived at the table. Hellos were said, and Lee watched for signs that Katy was having a rough time of it, but she seemed okay. The waiter came back just then, and sure enough, he had a glassful of cherries to go with Susan's Manhattan. He took the rest of the drink orders, barely able to keep his eyes off his new inamorata, and Lee opened her menu.
Trevor sat next to her, and while she looked at the salads, he scooted close. Closer than he needed to given the size of the table. Just as she turned her attention to the fish selections, she felt it. His hand on her thigh. Light, tentative, a little shaky, but he didn't retreat. As the seconds ticked on, her pulse shot through the roof as the pressure on her leg increased until his hand rested comfortably. The heat of his skin passed through her dress and her hose as if they weren't there. She didn't know what to do. Touch him back? Smile? Say something?
Finally, she managed to look at him. His gaze was quiet, more a question than anything else. He glanced down quickly, then she felt him squeeze her gently.
Although he touched only the top of her thigh, the sensation hit her everywhere. Her breath froze in her lungs. Her stomach clenched. She was right. As long as they stopped worrying, and they just trusted in each other, nothing was going to go wrong. They could be so much for each other. The perfect complements.
He leaned over, so he could whisper in her ear. "What are you doing this weekend?"
She shook her head, not brave enough to tell him the decision she'd made a few moments ago.
"How does a trip to Mystic sound?"
"Wonderful."
"I know a great bed-and-breakfast. Antiques, fireplaces in the bedrooms. Claw-foot tubs."
"It sounds perfect."
"Good," he said. Then he took his hand away, and turned to speak to Ben.
Lee kept looking at the menu, even though the words blurred together. The heat from where he'd touched her dissipated in a few moments. The reality of what he'd proposed took much longer to sink in.
This was it. In four days, she and Trevor were going to be more than friends. They were going to be lovers. Not like any lovers she'd ever known, and that was the beauty of it all. They were going to break the rules, explore uncharted territory. But she wasn't scared. Not too scared, at least. Because he'd be with her every step of the way.
"Lee?"
She looked up. Katy stared at her, and Lee realized she'd been trying to talk to her for a while. "Hm?"
"Split a chicken tarragon with me?"
"Sure."
"Good," Katy said, "since I intend to eat every dessert they have."
Lee closed her menu. Things were going very nicely. Trevor had obviously not told the rest of the gang about her little faux pas from this morning. She was going to have the crème brûlée for dessert. And in four days, she was going to embark on the next phase of her life. The phase without worries, without doubts.
"Oh, and listen," Katy said. "After dinner, let's all go to the Empire State Building, okay?"
Puzzled, Lee looked at Katy. "Why?"
"Because it's almost Ben's birthday. So I told him he could ride in the elevator with you."
* * *
Chapter 6
« ^ »
"What is that?" Lee asked, looking at the tiny scrap of material Katy held out.
"It's underpants."
"That's underpants? It wouldn't cover my right toe."
"It's not supposed to." She stretched the pink garment out so it took on the vague shape of a triangular Band-Aid. "It's a thong."
"I'm not wearing a thong. Ever. I've gone all my life trying to get underwear out from where they've designed it to go in."
"You have no sense of adventure."
"I do so. I simply prefer to go on my adventures without butt floss."
Katy tossed the offending panties onto the sale table and wandered over to the teddy section of Victoria's Secret. The place was pretty crowded for seven at night on a Tuesday. Maybe it was always like this. She wouldn't know. The last time she'd gone shopping for underwear, she'd been at a Macy's sale, picking up seven pairs of identical, practical, cotton panties.
But cotton wouldn't do for this weekend. She needed new bras, too. And something to sleep in. A robe. Basically, everything from the top down.
"This is fabulous!"
Lee turned to Susan, who held up a black silk garter belt to her waist, and frowned. "I'm not going to need a garter bell. I'm not planning on wearing stockings."
"Not for you, silly. For me. I think this would look divine with my red stilettos."
"Why do you need red stilettos when you're not dating?"
Susan waggled her brows. "I said I'm never getting involved with another man. Not that I wouldn't want a judiciously timed roll in the hay. I'm just sorry you had that idea about Trevor first. It's so brilliant, it's scary."
"Is it? I swear I'm driving myself nuts. One second I'm certain that all my problems will be solved by sleeping with Trev, and the next second I'm positive I'm ruining my life."
"Lee, the answer to that is so simple." Susan picked up a white garter belt and held it up to her waist. She admired the view in the full-length mirror, and a slim young man wearing an Elvis Costello T-shirt enjoyed it with her. Susan didn't blink. Lee supposed she'd grown so used to being ogled it didn't faze her anymore.
"I'm waiting for this great and simple revelation," Lee said, eyeing a pretty floral print matching bra and panty set.
"Quit thinking," Susan said.
"Yes. Right. That's exactly the conclusion I came to on Monday. The problem is getting my mind to concur."
"Okay, here's what you do." Susan eyed the flowered underwear in Lee's hand and gave her a disgusted look. "First, you get rid of those awful things and find yourself something sexy. Second, every time a thought about this weekend comes up, start singing 'It's A Small World.'"
"You're kidding, right? That song is evil. Once it gets into my head, it never leaves."
"Exactly."
Lee nodded. "Okay. But if I end up at Bellevue, I'm holding you personally responsible."
Susan smiled as she zeroed in on a hanging display. She pulled out a black satin set, bikini underpants and a demibra. "This is it," she said.
"I don't think so."
"I do. Now you march right in that dressing room and try this on."
"Now?"
"No. Next Christmas."
Lee took the plastic hanger and started toward the dressing room. The tag said it was a Wonder bra. She'd never tried one on before and her curiosity was piqued. There was one empty dressing room left, and she slipped inside.
She hated taking off her clothes in front of dressing room mirrors. The lighting sucked, the air felt cold and unfamiliar, and she never liked what she saw. So she rushed out of her blouse and her good old Playtex Cross Your Heart, and put on the black number. She had to adjust her breasts, lifting, separating, bending forward to make sure the fit was right, but when she looked up, she gasped.
"What's wrong?" Katy's voice came from directly outside the room.
"Holy cow. I look like Anna Nicole Sm
ith!"
"Let me see."
Lee opened the door without taking her eyes off her new shape. The Wonder bra had lived up to its name, and more. Her breasts looked huge, which made her waist look tiny, and the black slinky material gave her skin a porcelain glow.
"Wow," Katy said.
Lee nodded.
"I gotta get me one of those."
"I'm sure Ben would like it."
"I gotta get me a whole lotta those."
Lee smiled, but as she turned to her side to look at her profile, it occurred to her that this may not be the right bra at all. "I don't know," she said. "It's kind of false advertising, isn't it?"
"You think Trevor will care?"
Lee looked up to see Susan standing right next to Katy. "He can't help but notice. Unless I never take the bra off."
"You're giving him far too much credit," Susan said. "As soon as he gets a load of you in that, all the blood will rush from his head, and he won't have the ability to give it another thought."
"You'll be lucky if he can remember your name," Katy said.
Susan nodded. "Or his own."
"Really?" Lee looked at herself full on. Surprisingly, she really liked what she saw. So what if that damn doctor had offered her a discount. This little number did the same thing, without a recovery period.
"I'll go get some more," Katy said. "What do you think? Five?"
"I'm only going to be gone for two days."
"But he'll be coming over after you get back."
"Oh, yeah."
"You don't sound very excited," Susan said. "Remember. 'It's A Small World.'"
The song started in the back of Lee's mind. She didn't know whether to hug Susan or slug her.
* * *
Trevor looked at his overnight bag, then back at the two pairs of pajamas he held in his hands. The navy blue were nicer, but they had a tear on one cuff. The gray pair were older, but in good shape. He tossed the gray pajamas on top of his toiletry kit, two shirts, slacks, socks and underwear, and looked around to see if he was missing anything. Robe? He didn't think so. Book? God, he hoped not. Aha.
He went to his medicine cabinet and took out his box of Trojans. He took out two, then another one. What the hell, he thought, and tossed the whole box into the suitcase. Better safe than sorry.
One more quick glance around the bedroom, and then a look at his watch. Ten minutes until he had to leave to pick up Lee. He zipped up his bag, checked his wallet to make sure he had cash, then went for his jacket. It was starting to get a little chilly here in the mornings, and in Connecticut it would probably be colder.
He stepped outside, and locked his door behind him. This was it. He was really going to do it.
The anxiety was almost more than he could stand. What if…
No. He wasn't going to do that. No what ifs. No maybes. He was embarking on a mission, one that promised to change his life for the better. He could stop dreaming about being with Lee, and actually be with her. She wouldn't press him to take the relationship to the next level. She wouldn't casually take him shopping, only to wind up in housewares looking at china patterns. She wouldn't expect him to ask her to live with him, or, God forbid, propose.
With Lee, it was the best of all possible worlds. So what was he worried about?
The elevator arrived and the door opened. He stepped inside, and pressed the button for the street. All the way down, he forced himself not to think about anything bad. He refused to think about not being able to perform. About losing Lee's friendship.
Yeah, right.
* * *
"What's wrong?"
Trevor stared at Lee's two suitcases, both of which could hold enough clothes for a week, then at his own small overnight bag. He shook his head, but refrained from comment as he loaded the car. Lee got in the passenger seat, wondering if she should take off her sweater.
She'd chosen a simple outfit, a white scoop-necked T-shirt and slim-legged jeans, for the trip—after trying on pretty much everything in her closet. Underneath the T-shirt she wore her new beige Wonder bra, and she felt as though she were a walking pair of boobs on legs. She could serve hors d'oeuvres on her cleavage. He couldn't help but notice. Not while he sat so close. The drive would last at least two hours, and she didn't want to be self-conscious the whole time. On the other hand, maybe when he got a load of her enhanced figure, it would help him get into the mood. If he got all sexy, then she was bound to forget her nerves and get into the mood, too.
The trunk of the BMW slammed shut, and she quickly took off the gray cardigan, tossing it into the back seat just as he opened his door.
She sat back, trying to look casual, as he got in beside her. He smiled, she smiled back. He started the car. She kept on smiling. He put the car in gear, and eased into traffic. It occurred to Lee that her perception of how she looked must be exaggerated. Trevor didn't even—
The car swerved all the way to the other side of the road, and Trevor cursed as he fought to get it back in the right lane.
Okay, so it wasn't exaggerated. He kept looking at her chest, then the road, then her chest. She felt as if she were at a tennis match.
Finally, he pulled up to a red light and turned to face her. "I— You—"
"Don't worry. They won't bite."
"I'm not so sure."
"Wonder bra," she said.
"Wonder bra?" he echoed, his focus now entirely on the front of her shirt.
"Yes. Same boobs, different bra."
"God bless modern technology," he said.
Lee's smile began to hurt, and more than anything she wanted to put her sweater back on. Which was nuts, because the whole reason she'd worn the bra was to get this reaction.
Trevor cleared his throat, then snapped his gaze forward as the light turned green. She saw his Adam's apple bob several times, and a very slight sheen of sweat on his brow.
They drove in silence for a while, fighting the evening traffic. It was after seven, and the worst of rush hour was over, but in Manhattan, there was no good time to drive. Trevor was very good at darting and weaving. He even made a couple of cabdrivers honk. Lee used the time to relax. Or at least to try. She took a deep breath, and let it out. She thought of the old seaport village of Mystic, and how beautiful and peaceful the weekend would be. No good. She still felt her adrenaline pump with vigor throughout her body. All she could do was try harder.
They got on the highway and Lee focused on the sound of the tires. She knew she should say something. In all the years she'd known Trevor, they'd never had an awkward silence. Ever. Maybe one of the gang would call. That would break the silence. But no, everyone had been given strict orders not to call.
So she just stared ahead, watching the taillights of a minivan.
"What's that you're humming?"
Lee jumped, surprised by Trevor's voice. "What?"
"That song. I know it, but I can't place it."
She hadn't realized she'd been humming, but as soon as he said it, she knew what it was. "'It's A Small World.'"
Trevor looked at her as if she were nuts. "Yeah, I heard that song was making a comeback."
"I'll be quiet. I promise."
"It's too late. It's already in my head." He leaned forward and turned on the radio. Something classical came on first, but he pressed the buttons until he found a soft-rock station.
The newest cut from Hootie and the Blowfish came on and Trevor started singing with it. Never one to be shy, he sang with as much gusto and emotion as Hootie himself. Unfortunately, Trevor's voice sounded more like an actual blowfish. A tone-deaf blowfish at that.
But she couldn't complain. He enjoyed himself so much when he sang, he always had. Poor guy would have killed to get into a band, or even a choir, but no one would have him. So he used the shower, or the car, and if someone happened to be in earshot, he didn't even blink.
Oddly, his painful serenade comforted her, and for the first time since she'd gotten in the car, Lee felt herself relax. Her shou
lders first, then her neck. She moved so that her side wasn't pressing into the door handle and crossed her ankles.
Trevor kept on singing.
Of course, she thought about what they were about to do. But the panic had left her somewhere around exit fifty-seven. How could sleeping with Trevor be anything but wonderful? There wasn't a shy bone in his body. No self-consciousness at all, except of course when he was asked to drop his pants for her perusal. She had the feeling if she'd pressed him on that, he'd have done it for her eventually. It didn't matter now. She had pretty underwear, and that was half the battle. He'd already shown her that he wasn't immune to the Wonder bra, and with a little luck and a quick turn of a light switch, she'd make it under the covers unscathed.
The song ended and Trevor gave her a luscious grin. "That's better."
"For who? Now I've got your voice in my head."
"It's your own fault. Oh, hey, listen."
Lee smiled as the first chords of "Let's Give 'Em Something To Talk About" came on the radio. "Oh, my God. Do you remember—"
"That pizza?"
"The pizza? What about that wine? What was it, Strawberry Ripple?"
"Yeah, oh, man." Trevor shook his head and she could see her own memories in his face. "That was the first night we really talked."
"All night," she said, the conversation so clear to her that it might have taken place eight days ago instead of eight years.
Trevor looked at her, his grin fading. "I had the hots for you like nobody's business."
"You did?"
"Why do you think I had the pizza box on my lap all night?"
To say she was surprised was an understatement. "Are we talking about the same night? Bonnie Raitt on the CD, pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni? Midterms staring at us like a firing squad?"
"Oh, yeah. That was me. And it was you, and I was a goner."
Lee was stunned. Not just simply stunned, but down to the very core shaken. He'd had a thing for her? All the way back in college? It didn't make sense. "Why didn't you say anything?"
He looked in the rearview mirror, then at the road. She wanted to hurry him up, to understand how she'd seemingly misunderstood the entire gist of one of the most important nights of her life.