Lip Service

by Lori Foster

  “Your grandfather seems smitten with Mrs. Wiley.” Josie had leaned close to his ear to share that small tidbit of gossip. Her warm breath made him catch his.

  “Smitten?”

  “That’s his word.” She took his hand and laced their fingers together. “Mrs. Wiley went with me the other day to visit him, and when I was ready to leave, he asked her to stay. He said he’d call a cab for her when she had to go home.”

  “That smooth old dog.”

  Josie laughed. “I think he’s adorable. And a fraud. Do you know, there isn’t a thing in the world still wrong with his hip. He was limping around dramatically right up until he spied Mrs. Wiley, then he looked ready to strut.”

  Nick laughed at the picture she painted. “His hip still gives him a few pains in the nastier weather, but he gets around good enough. As long as he doesn’t try climbing the stairs too often.”

  “Mrs. Wiley told him he needed a condo like hers, instead of that big house. He’s been considering it.”

  Shocked, Nick turned to look at his grandfather. Not only Mrs. Wiley had made note of him. He was surrounded by women, all of them fawning on him. But he kept one arm around Mrs. Wiley. Nick snorted. He’d never have swallowed it if he hadn’t seen it himself. “I do believe he’s fallen for her. In all the years since my grandmother died, back when I was too young to even remember, I’ve never seen Granddad put his arm around a woman.”

  “Mrs. Wiley won’t take no for an answer.”

  Nick stared at Josie’s upturned face, her neatly braided hair and her small smile. He decided it might be a good rule for him to adopt.

  By the end of the evening he was the proud owner of new boxers he planned to gift wrap for Bob, and richly scented bubble bath for Josie. What she might have bought, he didn’t know. She’d kept her order form hidden from him.

  He and his grandfather helped the two women clean up, and he presented his plan to Mrs. Wiley. She was thrilled.

  “Advertising to the elderly in the retirement magazines! It’s a wonderful idea. I can travel to their residences and put on the displays, or they can order directly from me.”

  “I checked around, and almost all of the retirement centers have a special hall for entertaining and events. We could call it Romance for Retirees. And each class of gifts will need a catchy name. Like I thought maybe the scented oils could be classified under Love Potions #99.”

  Jeb laughed. “And the silk boxers and robes could be listed, Rated S—for Seniors only.”

  Josie jumped into the game, her grin wide. “What about Senior Sensations for the candles. And the wines could be Aged to Perfection.”

  Nick looked down at her, one brow quirked high. “You’re pretty good at this. You missed your calling.”

  Pride set a glow to her features, and that look, so warm and sweet, caused Nick’s heart to thump heavily. He wanted to kiss her, to…

  “Finish up the telling, boy, then you can see her home.”

  Roughly clearing his throat, Nick brought his attention back to Mrs. Wiley and his grandfather. “I thought you might want to make the parties a monthly event, open to all newcomers. That way more people would be inclined to join in and some of the retirement homes might be persuaded to make it part of a monthly outing.”

  Mrs. Wiley clapped her hands and gave him a huge grin. “That’s wonderful! I love it.”

  “I can work up the ads later this week, then get them to you for approval.”

  Mrs. Wiley put on a stern face. “I’m overwhelmed. And I insist on paying you something. I can’t possibly let you go to all this trouble for free.”

  “’Course you can,” Granddad insisted. “Let the boy do what he wants. He usually does anyway.”

  “That’s right. Stubbornness runs in the family.” Nick looked pointedly at his grandfather, then continued. “I’m thinking there’s probably a lot of small, local publications where placing an ad won’t be too costly, along with the insurance and retirement periodicals that go out. I’ll call around on Monday and see what their advertising rates are.”

  Granddad took him by the arm and started leading him to the front door. Josie followed along, grinning. “You do that, Nick. Get right on it, Monday.”

  Mrs. Wiley was still thanking him when Jeb practically shoved him out the door. Josie cozied up to his side. “I think we need to get going, Nick.”

  “I think you may be right.” As he finished speaking, the condo door closed in his face and he heard his grandfather’s laugh—followed by Mrs. Wiley’s very delighted squeal.

  9

  WHEN THEY REACHED Josie’s condo, Nick offered to get the tape. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t you take a quick shower and get comfortable while I run down to the video store?”

  Josie blinked up at him. “How do I know you’ll pick out a tape I like?”

  “Trust me.” He tucked a wind-tossed curl behind her ear, struggling with his new feelings. He wanted to hold her close, keep her close. It was distracting, the way she made him feel complete with just a smile. “Give me your key and then you won’t have to let me in.”

  To his surprise, she handed him the key without any hesitation. “I’ll see you in just a little bit, then.”

  He rented two tapes, bought popcorn and colas, and returned not thirty minutes later to find Josie in the bathroom blow-drying her hair. She was bent over at the waist, her long red hair flipped forward to hang almost to her knees. Nick stared, mesmerized. She looked so young, with her face scrubbed clean and her baggy pajamas all but swallowing up her petite body.

  She also looked sexy as hell.

  Remarkable. No matter what she wore, what persona she presented, he found her irresistible. He wondered if she hadn’t been dressed so sexily the first time he saw her, would he have reacted the same? It seemed entirely possible given the way his body responded to her now.

  He stood there watching her for a good five minutes, wanting to touch her, to wrap her beautiful hair around his hands. Her movements were all intrinsically female and he loved how her bottom swayed as she moved the dryer, how her small bare feet poked out at the end of the pajama bottoms. Ridiculous things.

  In such a short time, she’d come to occupy so much of his thoughts, and his thoughts were as often sweet, like Josie, as they were hot and wild like the way she made him feel when he was inside her.

  She cared about people—her sister and her patients and even his grandfather whom she hardly knew. He hoped she cared for him, but he couldn’t tell because she was so set on having a purely physical relationship. He’d encouraged her in that regard, but no more. Tonight would be a good place to start.

  She turned off the dryer and straightened, noticing him at the same time. A soft blush colored her face. “Um, I didn’t realize you were back.” She started trying to smooth her hair, now tossed in wild profusion around her head.

  Nick grinned, bursting with emotion too rare to keep inside. “You look beautiful.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He crossed his heart and held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  She put away the discarded towel and started out of the bathroom around him. “You were never a Scout, Nick. Jeb would have told me if you were.”

  He followed close on her heels.

  “True enough, but the theory’s the same.” He could smell the clean scent of her body, of flowery soap and powder softness. And Josie.

  She headed to the couch, but as she started to sit, he pulled her into his lap, relishing the weight of her rounded bottom on his groin. The new position both eased and intensified the ache.

  He caught her chin and turned her face toward him. Before he could even guess at his own thoughts, he heard himself ask, “Are you relieved you’re not pregnant?”

  He saw her chest expand as she caught her breath, saw her tender bottom lip caught between her teeth.

  She looked down, apparently fascinated with his chin. After a moment, she whispered, “It’s strange, r
eally. I’d never before given babies much thought. There’s always been a succession of priorities in my life that occupied my mind. Getting past my parents’ deaths, getting through school, finding a job and then starting my own business. I suppose I’m fairly single-minded about things.”

  “But?”

  Her gaze met his briefly, then skittered away. “There’s really no room in my life right now for a child. But still, in my mind, I’d pictured what it would look like, if it would be a boy or a girl…”

  He pictured a little girl who looked like Josie. An invisible fist squeezed his heart.

  “Oh, good grief.” She threw up her hands and forced a smile. “Luckily I’m not pregnant and so that’s that. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  She was always so open with him. Yet he’d done nothing but be secretive and withdrawn. He’d manipulated her at every turn, even as he worried about her trying to control him.

  Ha! Josie was unlike any woman he’d ever known. She wasn’t like Myra, trying to run his life, or his mother, rejecting him, or any of the other women he’d known who’d tried so diligently to mold him into a marriageable man. No, Josie hadn’t tried to change his life, and he’d been too busy trying to change hers to notice.

  He was a total jerk. A fool, an idiot.

  He’d lied to her from the start in order to get his way. Then he’d continued to lie to try to keep her interested, claiming he agreed with her short-term plan, when even at the beginning he’d known something about her was special. He’d even done his best to alter her job, just to make more time for himself. He’d forced his way in with her friends, but never introduced her to his. He didn’t deserve her—but damned if he was letting her go.

  Pulling her close and pressing his face into her hair, he asked, “Can I spend the night with you, Josie?”

  She tensed, and he hugged her even tighter. “Just to sleep. It’s late and I want to hold you.”

  In a tentative tone, she said, “I’d like to see your home sometime.”

  He’d avoided taking her there. He hadn’t wanted her to see the way he lived, with everything set for his convenience. Women didn’t appreciate the type of functional existence he’d created for himself, which was the whole point. More often than not, his shirts never made it into a drawer. He laid them out neatly, one atop the other on the dining-room table. His socks were in the buffet drawer, convenient to the shirts. He never bothered to make his bed, not when he only planned to use it every night, and he didn’t put away his shaving cream or razor, but left them on the side of the sink, handy.

  His small formal living room had gym equipment in it and he’d never quite gotten around to buying matching dishes. He’d set himself up as a bachelor through and through.

  Once a week, he cleaned around everything. He remembered now why he’d started doing things that way—to annoy Myra, and on her rare visits, his mother. He laughed at himself and his immature reasoning. For Josie, he’d even put away his toothpaste.

  “Nick?”

  “I was just thinking about your reaction when you see my house.”

  One hand idly stroked his neck. “What’s it look like?” She was warm and soft and he loved her—everything about her. The notion of something as potent as love should have scared him spitless, but instead it filled him with resolution. Damn her ridiculous plans; she could experiment all she wanted, as long as she only experimented with him.

  “My house is small, not at all like Granddad’s. It looks like every other house on the street, except that I’ve never planted any flowers or anything. I bought it because it’s close to where I work, not because I particularly like it. You’d be shocked to see what a messy housekeeper I am. I can just imagine you fussing around and putting things away, trying to make it as neat and orderly as your own.”

  She leaned back to see his face. “You’re kidding, right? I barely have time to straighten my own place. I’m not going to play maid for anyone.” She kissed his chin. “Not even you.”

  Brutally honest, that was his Josie. He laughed, delighted with her. “So you wouldn’t mind stepping over my mess?”

  She stared at him, her expression having gone carefully blank. “I don’t imagine it will be a problem very often. Do you?”

  He didn’t want to address that issue right now. He knew she wouldn’t like his house because he didn’t even like it. She wouldn’t be enticed to spend much time there.

  He kissed her again, then while holding her close, he said, “One of the movies I rented is a real screamer, a new release guaranteed to make your hair stand on end. What do you say we put it on?”

  Greed shone from her eyes. “I’m certainly up to it if you are.”

  The movie was enough to make them both jump on several occasions, which repeatedly caused gales of laughter. At one point, Josie hid her face under his arm, her nose pressed to his ribs. They ate two huge bowls of popcorn and finished off their colas and by the time the movie was over, they were both ready for bed.

  Josie looked hesitant as she crawled in under the covers. When Nick stripped naked to climb in beside her, she groaned and accused him of being a terrible tease.

  It was the strangest feeling to sleep chastely with a woman, with no intention of making love. It was also damn pleasurable. Only Josie, he thought, could make a scary movie and popcorn seem so romantic, so tender. He pulled her up against his side, then sucked in his breath when her small hot fist closed gently around him. “Josie?”

  She nestled against him. “I’m not a selfish woman, Nick. Just because I’m out of commission doesn’t mean you should suffer.”

  He could find no argument with her reasoning while her slender fingers held him. “Sleeping with you isn’t a hardship, honey. I think I can take the pressure.”

  “Nonsense.” She kissed his shoulder, then propped herself up on one elbow to watch his face while she slowly stroked him. In a whisper, she told him all the things she wanted to do to him, all the things she wanted him to teach her about his body. “Will you groan for me, Nick?”

  He groaned.

  She kissed his ear, the corner of his mouth. She kept her voice low and her movements gentle. “I need more data for my experimentation, you see.”

  He refused to talk about that. If she even hinted at going to another man right now, he’d tie her to the bed.

  “You can’t continue to have your way with me without paying the piper, lady.”

  Her smile was sensual and superior. “Oh? And what does the piper charge?”

  He ground his teeth together, trying to think through the erotic sensation of being led like a puppet. “I want a key to your condo.”

  Josie went still for just a heartbeat and Nick thought she would refuse. But she bent and kissed him, then whispered into his mouth, “Keep the one I gave you earlier. I have a spare.”

  “Josie…” He groaned again, wanting to discuss the ramifications of her easy surrender. Josie had other ideas.

  And Nick, once again, gave her total control.

  Almost two weeks later, he still had her key—and he’d all but moved in.

  “GOOD GRIEF, JOSIE, you should get dressed before you answer the door.”

  Her sister’s comment might have been laughable if she wasn’t so incredibly nervous. Josie looked down at her short, snug skirt, the same one she’d worn the night she first met Nick, and stiffened her resolve. She had a new plan for changing her life, and this one suited her perfectly.

  Keeping the door only halfway open, more or less blocking her sister, Josie said, “Hi, Susan.”

  Susan leveled a big sister, somewhat ironic look on her. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  “I…uh, this isn’t the best time.”

  Susan stiffened. “Oh? Is Nick in there? Is that it?” Susan tried to peek around her and Josie gave up.

  “No, Nick isn’t here. Come on in.”

  Josie turned away from her sister’s curious, critical eye
and went into the kitchen. She had to keep moving or she’d chicken out.

  Susan followed close on her heels. “Why are you dressed like that?”

  Because Nick likes me dressed this way. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed? I’m rather fond of this particular outfit.”

  Susan eyed the short skirt and skimpy blouse with acute dislike. “What’s going on, Josie?”

  “Nothing that you should worry about.” Josie went through the motions of pouring her sister a cup of coffee. Nick would show up soon, and she needed to get Susan back out the door. What she planned required privacy, not her sister as a jaundiced audience. “So what brings you here on a workday, Susan? Is anything wrong?”

  Susan chewed her lips, twitched in a wholly Susan-type fashion, then blurted, “Bob wants to marry me.”

  Josie stared at her sister, at first taken aback, and then so pleased, she squealed and threw herself into her sister’s arms. Susan laughed, too, tears shining on her lashes, and the two women clutched each other and did circles in the kitchen.

  “I’m so happy for you, Susan!”

  “I’m happy for me, too, Josie! Bob is perfect for me. He’s not the man I first thought him to be, but he’s proved to be even better. And I love him so much.” She wiped her cheeks with shaking hands and tried to collect herself, but she couldn’t stop jiggling around. “He treats me like I’m special.”

  Josie knew the feeling well. Nick made her feel like she was the only woman alive—but he would never ask her to marry him. It was up to her to take the initiative. “You are special. Bob’s a lucky man to have you.”

  “Bob told Nick this morning.” Her tone suggested that Josie should be upset by that news.

  Nick had gotten so comfortable with her, and every day it seemed he spent more and more time with her, sleeping with her at night, calling her during the day. He talked to her and confided in her. He’d taken her to his house and they’d laughed together at the unconventional steps he’d taken to simplify his life.