by Ryanne Corey
They parked the bike, then strolled the downtown village area where no motorized vehicles were allowed. It was like being in the middle of a giant art festival, complete with Italian ices, sidewalk music and bright banners flying from storefronts. Julie’s somewhat unusual attire earned her a few pitying looks, and she was quite sure if she’d held out a hat, she would have received several charitable contributions. Not a soul asked her where she had found her “divine outfit.” In fact, she put off visiting any of the twenty or so clothing boutiques until they had walked the full length of the village and back again, ending up right where they had started.
“Last chance to buy something,” Billy told her teasingly. “Or are you enthralled with Colin’s wardrobe?”
“No, but I was so enthralled with the motorcycle, I forgot my purse.”
“My treat.”
“Not when it comes to clothes. I’ve been known to spend five hundred dollars on a pair of shoes.” She pursed her lips and whistled, stretching her brown eyes wide. “My, oh my, just imagine what I could spend on an entire vacation wardrobe.”
Billy lost a shade or two of color. It occurred to him that he should have taken her to a thrift store and told her it was one of the “ordinary experiences” she’d been so hungry for. “Really? You’ve actually bought shoes that cost five hundred dollars? All right, let me rephrase my offer. Let’s not go for an entire vacation wardrobe all at once. Do you think you could buy what you need for the cost of, say, one designer shoe?”
“A challenge!” Julie laughed up at him teasingly, luxuriating in the day, the weather, the surroundings and, last but definitely not least, the man beside her. She had no intention of allowing Billy to spend his own hard-earned money on her clothes, but she would allow him to make her a short-term loan. How amazing…she had a budget! Most of the people of her acquaintance would describe this day as nothing special, but for Julie, it was extraordinary. “All right, you’re on. I can be very creative when it comes to fashion.”
The store they visited was almost identical to the other clothing stores in the village: stuffed from front to back with bright fabrics, Hawaiian sundresses, T-shirts, baseball caps and swimsuits. Everything but the swimsuits was made of cotton and incredibly affordable. Julie hadn’t done much buying “off the rack,” but she’d always been very good at visualizing shapes, colors and cuts. This talent had earned her a spot on the Best Dressed List of Palm Beach, but she’d always given credit to Versace, Calvin Klein and Vera Wang. Today she would enjoy the experience of being dressed by Julie Roper.
Billy sat in a neon-pink overstuffed chair near the dressing room. He was the only male in the place, which bothered him. He was sitting on something pink, which bothered him. On the plus side, he had a very good view of Julie’s feet beneath the dressing-room door. He grinned when she kicked off her plastic shoes and he saw that her toes were tipped with vivid silver polish. He watched as Colin’s pants, tie and T-shirt hit the floor in a heap. His imagination kicked into high gear at that point and he forced himself to study the brilliantly colored kite hanging from the ceiling of the store. It was a Chinese dragon, sporting a long tail of orange and red cellophane. That is a very realistic dragon, Billy thought, fiercely trying to distract himself from the goings-on in the dressing room. Very colorful. Fine workmanship.
It didn’t work.
“Do I get to see?” he asked.
From behind the louvered door: “See what?”
“You. I mean, the clothes. I have a very good eye.”
“You have two very nice eyes.” Julie walked out of the dressing room and did a quick twirl, giving him a whimsical, slightly embarrassed smile. She experienced an odd tightness in her chest as his hooded gaze drank her in. She was wearing a black halter swimsuit topped with a low-riding wrap-around scarf serving as a skirt. It was all quite modest, yet there was something in Billy’s expression that made her acutely self-conscious. “What? You don’t like it? The whole outfit costs less than thirty dollars. Thirty dollars! It’s absolutely amazing what bargains there are here. Yes? No?”
Billy was struck mute. He was mesmerized, capturing her image in his mind, wanting to hold it there always and forever. Her body was slight, yet generously curved. Her legs were long and shapely beneath the thigh-high scarf, gleaming with a golden tan. Her waist was impossibly small, her breasts lovingly outlined in the stretchy black suit. The very, very tight stretchy black suit. The shimmery, very, very tight stretchy black suit. Blond hair flew every which way, yet the expert cut left her looking intentionally disheveled. And her eyes…they were drenched with curiosity, bashful doubt and a shadow of sensual awareness.
“Looks like it fits okay,” he managed hoarsely.
Julie looked disappointed. “It fits? You don’t like it, do you?”
“I didn’t say that.” Billy had never sat outside a dressing room before while a woman tried on clothes. He didn’t know the rules. “Isn’t that the point, to find stuff that fits?”
“You hate it.” She frowned, turning back to the dressing room. “Never mind. I have lots more to show you.”
Billy took a deep breath, thinking how much he would like to follow her back into the dressing room. Instead, all he could do was look at her cute little polished toes and lust after them. He’d always appreciated the company of women, but he’d never stepped over the line into obsession, or even fascination. With Julie, he’d not only crossed the line, he’d hit it at a dead run, leapt over it and kept on going like the Energizer Bunny. He had no idea what came after obsession, but whatever it was, he was heading straight for it.
She continued modeling for him. He broke out into a sweat and shrugged off the leather vest he wore. He saw her in a parade of strappy little sundresses, tank tops and skirts, shorts and bright summer-print shirts. Nothing was particularly revealing; there was no reason in the world he should be in acute physical discomfort that worsened every time she walked out of that damned little room. Finally he got to his feet, needing to put distance between himself and Julie. “I’m going outside for a smoke,” he said.
Julie poked her head out of the dressing room door, frowning. “I’ve never seen you smoke.”
“I don’t,” he told her. Her shoulders were bare, he noticed with an inner whimper of pain. Which probably meant the rest of her was bare, as well. What does not kill us makes us stronger. “But I’ve always liked to try new things. Give me a shout when they tally everything up.”
When they left the shop, Julie carried a large shopping bag that held two sundresses, khaki slacks, tan shorts, a couple of T-shirts, a pair of jeans and a short, stone-washed denim skirt. She’d also purchased a swimsuit that Billy hadn’t seen her model. It was quite different from the others she’d tried on, rather sinfully different. It was a glowing shade of buttery yellow, which contrasted beautifully with her golden tan. It was also a two-piece strapless bikini, which violated every rule Harris had ever set forth concerning modest and appropriate attire for young women. She had no idea if she would ever wear it, but she knew darn well if Billy saw her in it, he would be thinking something quite different from how well it fit.
The person who had happily purchased this rather flimsy wardrobe was not Julie Roper. Julie Roper wasn’t in the habit of buying clothing that hadn’t been measured to fit, then delivered to her home. She also didn’t wear plastic beaded earrings strung on something that appeared to be dental floss, which she had purchased at the boutique. Buy one pair, get one free. Now, what savvy shopper could turn that down? This stranger inhabiting her body was spontaneous, easy to please and perfectly happy wearing dental floss dangling from her ears. No one judged her here; she was simply another tourist enjoying the lovely California sunshine.
“I wonder what my name is?” she mused aloud, strolling side by side with Billy.
He cocked one eyebrow at her. “You don’t know your name?”
“Haven’t the foggiest idea.” She shook her head, enjoying the feeling of the long earrings
dancing against her cheeks. “It’s not Julie Roper, that’s for sure. I’m much more interesting than Julie Roper ever was.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
“Oh, it’s true. I always knew how my days were planned weeks in advance. I never had any choices to make, and life is very dull when you have no choices. The person I am right now, however, has a world of choices right in front of her. I could go skinny-dipping in the middle of the night. I could dye my hair. I could get a tattoo—”
“What?”
“—and we could buy Rollerblades and skate all over Laguna. Oh, I just thought of something else! I could learn to drive Colin’s motorcycle!”
“What?”
“And we could buy hot dogs and marshmallows and have a weenie roast on the beach. I’ve never done that. Isn’t that a sad thing? When I told you I had a wish list, those were the kinds of things I was talking about. Normal, everyday things that no one in my social circle would ever dream of doing. I’d like to try surfing. And bowling! I’ve always wanted to try bowling.”
“Bowling?” whimpered the battle-scarred veteran of the streets. “What about my reputation?”
“And pool! Harris says playing pool is a pastime for the working class, but I think it looks fun. And you know what else I’d like to do? I’d like to learn to cook. I’ve never really prepared a meal by myself. Oh Billy, I could go on forever. I feel like I’ve lived in this world for well over twenty years, and I don’t know it at all.” She stopped in the parking lot beside the motorcycle, looking up at Billy with earnest brown eyes. “Do you know what the temperature of a dead body is?”
Billy was starting to feel dizzy and disoriented, as if someone had shot him. “A dead body?”
“Well, it’s seventy-two degrees. Coincidentally, our homes in Miami and California are thermostatically controlled to remain at seventy-two degrees at all times. The same with every car we own. Regardless of the weather, everything stays at seventy-two degrees. Just lately I realized I have a lot in common with a dead body. I don’t want to be comfortable any longer. I want to go beyond my comfort zone.”
“What does Bo-Bo do for your comfort zone?” Billy heard himself ask. He hadn’t intended to take the conversation in that direction, but he didn’t seem to have a lot of willpower these days. “Is he able to raise the temperature of your comfort zone?”
Julie looked away, feeling the hot sting of blood in her face. “This isn’t about Beau. It’s about me. I need to know who I am before I can figure out what I want.”
“And you have how long before you become engaged?” Billy persisted, feeling suddenly irritable. “The sixteenth? That doesn’t leave you much time to find yourself, does it?”
“I didn’t say I was getting engaged on my birthday.” Pouting, Julie stuffed her package into the roomy storage bin on the rear of the motorcycle. “I don’t know what I’m going to do on my birthday. I’m only going to worry about today.”
“Whatever.” Billy climbed on the bike, waiting as Julie wiggled her way on behind him. To have her this close, to feel her hips molding against him, was an exquisite torture. He glanced down at her clasped hands holding so tightly to his waist. He looked at her bare ring finger. He tried to envision what sort of engagement ring Bo-Bo would choose. Enormous, more than likely. The sheer weight of it would probably give Julie carpal tunnel syndrome. What an inconsiderate jerk that Bo-Bo was. Were it up to Billy, he would chose something delicate, a ring that wouldn’t overpower her small, delicate fingers…or his small, delicate bank account.
And why the hell was he even thinking such things? In less than a week, this little fairy tale would be over for both of them. Julie would wing her way home and take her rightful place in the world of the Palm Beach elite. It was where she belonged, what she had been born to. He had no place in that world. And she was only visiting his world, enjoying the novelty of an “ordinary” life. It would wear off. Novelties always did.
Another thought occurred to him. Was he a novelty, as well?
“We’re not going anywhere,” Julie pointed out from behind him.
Tonelessly, “I realize that.”
“I’m starving,” she urged. “How about going to a diner? You know, the kind of restaurant that serves meat loaf and greasy fries and big, thick, gooey chocolate milk shakes. Is there a place like that around here?”
Billy started up the motorcycle. “You said it yourself, princess. Anything you want, you can find in California.”
The diner experience was overrated.
For all her enthusiasm, Julie’s tastebuds were accustomed to gourmet meals. Her stomach simply didn’t know what to do with a generous serving of lard-drenched french fries.
“I think I’m full,” she said, forcing herself to swallow the second of what appeared to be thousands of french fries on her plate. She had also managed a small bite of an equally greasy hamburger. “Diner food goes a long way, doesn’t it?”
Billy smiled without much humor. “I guess this place isn’t as great as I remembered. Would you like to order something else? Maybe a salad?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. This place is kind of funky, actually. It has a very realistic sixties look, with the vinyl booths and Formica tables. Retro is very in right now.”
“The diner is realistic because it’s been here since the sixties. Original vinyl booths—hence the split seams—and original Formica tables. Lucky for them, retro is very in right now.”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Actually I think I’m making fun of me.” Billy stared at her for the longest time, not moving, not saying a word. Had Julie been able to read his mind, she would have been astounded by his silent chant: She’s going to break my heart, she’s going to break my heart, she’s going to break my heart….
“What on earth are you thinking?” Julie asked, puzzled at the strange expression on his face. “You’ve been awfully quiet since we got here.”
“I was working on my cheeseburger,” Billy said. Which was partly true. Cops didn’t worry about eating well on their salaries. They worried about eating.
“And what about the rest of the time?” Julie fidgeted in her chair but managed to hold on to his unrelenting gaze. “You keep staring at me. You’re doing it right now.”
Why, indeed? Probably because he knew he had come to the end of his self-control. It came to him just like that, the knowledge that his reservoir of discipline was dry as dust. Heaven help them both.
“I’m with you,” Billy said distractedly. “It makes sense to look at you, don’t you think? If I stared at that lady sitting in the booth by the door, she’d think I was coming on to her.”
“Why on earth would she think that?”
“Listen carefully.” His heart be damned, he was going for it. He leaned forward, blue eyes growing ever darker and deeper. His expression was deadly serious, his fingers threaded tightly on the tabletop. His hooded gaze had never been more intense, or more unguarded. “If I looked at her the way I’m looking at you, she’d know exactly what I’m feeling. She’d see the need, the want, the uncertainty and the fear.” A pause. Then, so softly she could barely hear, “Can’t you see what you do to me?”
It was all so blunt, so unexpected, it took Julie a stunned moment to absorb it. Oh yes, she could see it all in his eyes, every feeling he had. Just like that, as if he had perfected some way of choosing whether or not to reveal himself to the world. No doubt his job had taught him how to operate on automatic pilot, what to show and what to hide. And now, for whatever reason, he had deliberately chosen to let her see inside him. He was vulnerable now, just as she was.
“Why tell me now?” she whispered, touching shaking fingers to her lips.
“Now is all I have,” Billy replied, a brief flicker of pain in his eyes.
“Now is all any of us have, Billy.” He seemed very alone to her suddenly, isolated in his scarred doubt. Her own eyes glistened with pent-up emotions, highlighting her thoughts an
d fears. He read her as he had been reading her all along.
“Have I scared you?” he asked, desire and apprehension swirling through his hot blood.
“A little.” With a misty smile she stood up, holding out her hand to him. “And I like it. Let’s go home, Billy.”
Billy was the absolute best at many things: target practice, defensive driving, making spaghetti, ironing his dress blues, giving interviews without giving anything away and healing quickly from assorted wounds. He was not an unaccomplished man, but he was less than experienced when it came to building a bonfire on the beach.
“You didn’t tell me it was your first bonfire, too,” Julie shouted, fanning her face to keep the blasting heat from setting her hair on fire. She had to shout; the delightful crackle of an open fire had grown into a thundering roar within seconds.
“I think I shouldn’t have doused it with gasoline,” Billy said. “Not a gallon of it, anyway.”
“What?”
“The gasoline made it…never mind. Let us flee for our lives.” He took her hand and ran due north of the fire, heading for an outcrop of mossy green rocks. There he had spread the quilt from Colin’s bed and placed a cooler full of food. “Until that inferno burns down, we’re going to hide.”