by Rita Herron
Zack's pencil stilled. More water splashed gently in the background. What exactly turned Jenna on?
"That's the reason I carry such a variety of men's silk boxers and underwear," Jenna continued, oblivious to the fact that she was torturing him. "Women love the feel of silk and satin. Most of my female clients complain that the men they date still wear those boring white jockeys."
Zack glanced down at his pants, thought of his own white briefs and considered buying for some silk boxers. Something that would turn Jenna on...
Instead, he instinctively hiked up his pants a notch as if Jenna could see through the telephone.
"What seems to be your best seller for men?" he asked, determined to steer his mind back to business.
Jenna laughed softly. "I can't really describe it over the phone. Next time you come into the shop, I'll have to give you a freebie. It's called the Bee-Stinger."
Chapter 3
The Bee-Stinger?
Three days later, Zack still couldn't erase that suggestive piece of underwear from his mind.
Finally he decided he'd have to give in to his curiosity and stop by Jenna's shop to see for himself. His imagination had gone wild every time he thought about her bestseller for men, and his pencil had already concocted several different versions of the naughty underwear. Perhaps he should purchase a pair just in case...
One of his clients, Gordon Plum of Plum Chewing Gum, strode in his office without knocking and settled his bulky body at the round table in the corner of Zack's office. Zack had already laid out his preliminary sketches for the man's account.
As usual, Plum didn't waste time with small talk. "I need a few minutes to look these over."
Zack nodded. "Take your time." He gave him a few minutes to study the ideas then joined him at the table. It was a pretty big account, and he needed the business.
"I thought these might appeal to kids." Zack pointed to a series of drawings and the slogan he'd written in bold letters above it. Plum's Gum Sticks With You All Day Long. "We can use the same slogan for the children's and adult ads."
Plum adjusted his bifocals and peered over the sketches, his wrinkled face drawn in concentration. The first illustration depicted a little girl who'd popped a pink bubble all over her face. The second, a boy about eleven years old wearing a baseball uniform with green gum on his shoe. The next, a toddler with a wad of purple gum in his hair. The last one, a teenage girl holding a telephone while she stuck her well-chewed piece of gum under the table at a coffee shop.
Plum threw his head back and laughed, his fat jowls shaking. "The kids will get a kick out of this."
"And this one should appeal to adults." It was obviously a male bashing scene where several women threw their gum at a photograph of a man on the wall.
Plum laughed again. "That's great. Using different ages is clever." Plum pointed to another drawing. "This is good, too." The caption read, Chew Your Days Away With Plum's Gum. Zack had labeled each day of the month with a different flavor—thirty in all—thanks to the latest in candy technology.
Plum stood and extended his hand. "Let's close the deal. I don't even need to chew on it."
Zack groaned silently and shook Plum's hand as Plum hooted at his own joke.
When he finally stopped belly laughing, he loosened his grip. "Say, the wife and I are having a little family barbecue on Sunday for some of our supporters. Want to bring your Mrs. and join us?"
Zack stacked the sketches, avoiding eye contact. Perhaps he should go and meet Plum's supporters, but for some reason the idea of an afternoon with Plum's family didn't seem appealing. Smothering maybe, but not appealing. "Thanks for the invitation, Mr. Plum, but I'm not married."
Plum slapped his back. "Ah, too bad. Maybe I can fix you up with one of my daughters."
Zack silently gasped. Past experience with a previous client warned him not to accept. Plum would probably have wedding plans underway before he finished his meal.
His client took his wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open. A long portfolio of pictures flopped before him. "These are all my grandchildren," Plum said. "I've been married fifty-five years."
Fifty-five years? Zack's throat tightened just as it always did whenever the word marriage was mentioned.
"Been some happy years," Plum said, pointing to a photograph of a silver haired woman with rosy cheeks. "Mildred gave me nine kids. Got seventeen grandkids so far." He pointed to a dark-haired young woman with a pointed chin and glasses. "Debbie will be there Sunday. She's my youngest and unattached."
Zack's collar suddenly felt like it was choking him, and he reached to loosen his tie with sweaty hands. "I... I'm sorry but I'm already busy Sunday."
"Well, let me know if you change your mind. Marriage is great."
Zack nodded. Why was everyone pushing marriage?
Plum pulled at his chin. "I was a wild one back... well, let's just say, in the day. Then I walked down that aisle and everything changed."
An image of a dark walkway that lead to a raised altar where a a noose dangled from lattice work at the end flashed in Zack's mind, and a shudder ripped through him.
He'd watched his father walk down the aisle, what, six, seven—he couldn't even remember how many times. But two or three months later, he always ran the other way, complaining about pantyhose in his shower, feminine products overflowing his vanity, and having to constantly juggle with the toilet seat.
Zack grimaced. The toilet seat belonged up. He liked maintaining control of his own remote control. Sundays meant football, cold pizza for breakfast and no hassles. And he liked his women to go home before morning.
Still, his father seemed to enjoy the ceremony and the hubbub surrounding matrimony. But sticking with one woman was a different story.
The thought of a church and a tuxedo made Zack have heart palpitations.
Although as a kid, every time his father had married, he'd hoped for the happily-ever-after family. After the fifth wife, he'd been so disappointed he'd lost hope.
When Simone had proposed, he'd immediately pictured the honeymoon—then the fighting that would start afterwards.
"Anyway," Plum continued. "I didn't mean to rattle on about my good fortune. I was just wondering if you could use my grandkids' faces in the sketches for the chewing gum ads. It would tickle them to death."
Till death do us part—that was marriage—the death of a man's life.
"Mr. West?"
Zack shook himself mentally and forced himself to be attentive to his client. "Uh, yes. Your grandkids' faces, right." He pretended interest in the multitude of family photographs. "Sure, I can use them. They'll look great."
"I knew you'd understand. You must be a family man at heart." Plum threw his hand up and hurried out the door.
Zack scratched the back of his neck as he felt a tell-tale rash spread. Even though he liked children, he was not a family man at heart—he was a chicken when it came to commitment.
Marriage was nothing more than a trap designed by the female population.
Every night going to bed with the same woman.
Every day waking up to that same woman.
The same face. The same voice. The same body.
Jenna Barrett's bewitching eyes and tantalizing figure suddenly flashed into his mind. He instantly saw her with gray hair, a horde of little children running around her while she sang to them in that sultry, sweet voice of hers.
He swayed, suddenly dizzy, the room blurring.
Dammit. He dropped his head between his knees and dragged in several deep breaths to alleviate the panic attack blazing a trail of terror through him.
If this continued, he'd have to avoid Jenna Barrett—even working with her. Hell, he might even need to see a doctor.
Surely they had some kind of treatment for his reaction.
The noisy clock on the wall jarred him back to reality. He had a small business and bills to pay. He couldn't afford to get sidetracked.
Remembering his vow t
o make a success of his ad agency, he grabbed his briefcase and headed to the door. He'd drive to Thomsons' Nursery and show them the preliminary sketches he'd drawn for their new advertising campaign.
He rushed to his car and focused on that project as he drove. The flower garden was the focal point of his first concept. The roses...
A bed of roses. He imagined Jenna lying in the middle of that rosebed. But roses and flowers made him think of bees. And bees made him think of the Bee-Stinger.
Dammit. He slapped the steering wheel. He was doing it again... letting her distract him.
Hell, the only way to get her off his mind was to face the enemy dead on.
Maybe he'd drop by her store and take a sneak a peek at the popular men's briefs. It was probably nothing more than a pair of yellow and black cotton boxers. Nothing fancy. Nothing especially erotic. Nothing to get all excited about.
Then he could focus on his other accounts.
He punched in the number to her store on his cell phone. He could be there in ten minutes.
Three rings before someone picked up the line. "Hello, Love 'N Lace. Angel speaking."
Disappointment flitted through him.
"Hello, is anyone there?"
"Yes, this is Zack West. May I speak to Ms. Barrett?"
"She's not here right now. This is her assistant Angel. May I help you?"
"I'm working on an ad campaign for Ms. Barrett. I'd like to drop by and discuss a few ideas with her. Will she be back soon?"
Angel tapped a pencil on the counter. "I'm afraid she won't be back today. She had to pick up some supplies, then she was going straight to her class."
Zack sighed. "I see. Well, I'll get in touch with her later." He eased the phone down and twisted his mouth into a frown.Back to her husband hunting, huh?
* * *
A few minutes later, Jenna stopped by her apartment to grab her notebook for her class, but as soon as she opened the door, she heard the faint peal of the phone, so she ran to answer it. "Hello."
"Jenna, it's Jeff. How's it going?"
"Hey, Jeff." Jenna relaxed in one of her kitchen chairs, grateful to hear her brother's voice. She missed her family and couldn't wait until the holidays when they all congregated. "Things are good here. What's up with you and that wife of yours?"
"That's what I called to tell you—Amy's pregnant!"
"What?" Jenna whooped with excitement. "That's fantastic, Jeff. When's the baby due? How's she feeling? Do Mom and Dad know?"
"Whoa, slow down, sis."
"Come on, don't leave me hanging here."
Jeff laughed and she heard Amy in the background whispering something to him.
"Jeff!"
"Okay, okay. Let me see—baby's due in March, Amy's feeling fine, just tired and she can't stand the sight of eggs, and yes, Mom and Dad know."
Jenna sighed blissfully. "I bet they're so excited they can't stand it. This will be the first grandchild."
Jeff hesitated, uncertainty filling his voice. "I know. And you're okay with that, Jen?"
"Of course I'm okay with it. I'm ecstatic! I'm going to be an aunt, and I can babysit when I come down. I've been practicing on my friend's little boy Henry S." Jenna twisted the phone cord around her fingers. "I'm hoping I won't be far behind you two either."
"Yeah?" Jeff paused. "What are you keeping from me, sis—a new man in your life?"
"Not yet," Jenna said dreamily. "But I'm working on it. I'm determined to find a husband this year, a man who wants a home, family, the works. Just like you and Amy have." And Casey had with Gabe and Henry S.
"I want that for you, too, Jen." Jeff exhaled and Jenna recognized the wariness in her brother's voice, so she braced herself for another brotherly lecture.
It didn't take long in coming. "Look, Jen, be careful out there, okay?"
"I will, Jeff. I'm twenty-seven years old—I'm not your kid sister any more."
"You'll always be my kid sister, whether you like it or not." Jeff's tone sounded strained. "And you're vulnerable, so don't hook up with any strange guys in bars or isolated places—"
"Jeff, I'm not stupid. I've been managing on my own for a while now."
"And don't trust a guy who gives you a line—"
"Jeff, stop it." Jenna's temper rose. "You've always been overprotective, but you don't have to be. I can take care of myself."
Jeff paused, and Jenna realized he was probably remembering the high school guys who'd tried to take advantage of her. And that stupid bet two of the boys had made...
Then J.L., a psych major in college she'd fallen for. A guy who'd broken her heart when he'd admitted he'd only dated her because he'd felt sorry for her.Jeff had always watched over her.
But she'd finally decided that as long as she allowed him to play bodyguard and smother her, she would never earn anyone's respect.
Not even her own.
They talked for another few minutes, and she promised to visit home soon and keep him posted. But as she ended the call, she fought a bout of homesickness. She missed her family, but she had good friends here.
Besides, she'd had to break away from family and build her own life here. She refused to let her hearing impairment keep her from being independent.
And she would never give that up that independence, not even in marriage. She'd find someone to respect her for who she was.
At least she hoped she would find someone.
Because as much as she liked her independence, she wanted her own family someday. A child of her own to love and nurture...
But she might have to accept the fact that she could end up alone.
That there might not be anyone out there for her...
Chapter 4
Zack's preliminary sketches weren't perfect—but at least he had an excuse to see Jenna again.
He fumbled with his artist's portfolio as he extracted his long legs from the narrow floor of his Triumph. He should invest in a bigger car, one large enough to haul his business materials around.
But he loved the little convertible, the rush of the wind on his face when he drove, the freedom... the same way he loved being single.
Smoothing down his tie, he glanced at his khakis and white shirt, hoping he looked professional, then opened the door to Jenna's shop, once again taken back by the heady fragrances that assaulted him and intrigued by the display of sexy undergarments.
His groin tightened uncomfortably when he spotted Jenna. He stood for a moment, mesmerized as he watched her dress a mannequin in a red bustier with black fishnet stockings and long black gloves. Unbidden came images of Jenna modeling the racy underwear for him.
Hell, he had better get himself a date—some woman who would distract him from his newest client.
The bell tinkled above him as he closed the door, and he froze, trying to mask his reaction so she couldn't read his wayward mind. She'd probably fire him or sue him for sexual harassment if she did.
Then she glanced up and smiled, the sunlight filtering through the window casting slices of gold in that sassy auburn hair, and all common sense fled.
"Hey, Zack, I'll be ready in a minute." She knelt to adjust the garter on the mannequin and his fingers tightened around his briefcase, his body hardening.Damn. She should go back to the modest suits she'd worn before, he thought as the v-neck of her silk top fell open to reveal her enticing cleavage.
A simple gold chain encased her neck, but the emerald stone glinted in the sunlight, reflecting the deep green of her eyes, and lay precariously close to her bosom, drawing his attention further down to the soft spot he'd like to touch. She looked so damn seductive and tempting in that sexy top with her hair spilling around her shoulders that he knotted his hands beside him to keep from dragging her into his arms.
"Thanks for waiting. I'm ready now," she said, brushing her hands over her short brown skirt.
For the first time since he'd entered, he noticed another woman behind the counter, a short, chubby brunette with curly hair and a friendly
smile.
"Angel, this is Zachary West," Jenna said. She snagged her jacket from the back of her chair and slipped it on, thankfully covering up her breasts and saving him from making a complete fool of himself.
"I heard you're designing our new ads." Angel stepped from the counter and he noticed her protruding stomach. His eyes must have shown his surprise because the women exchanged knowing looks.
"Angel's due in the spring," Jenna said. "She's having twins."
"I'm trying to convince Jenna to add a line of maternity lingerie in the store," Angel said. "You know, something sexy... but big! Maybe you can include it in the ad, too."
He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of drawing nursing bras and maternity gowns.
In fact, his hands were starting to sweat again, his heart stuttering.
"Let's go," Jenna said.
He followed her outside and gestured toward his car, grateful for the crisp air to clear his head. "We'll drive my car, that is, if you don't mind your hair getting a little wind-blown."
"Not at all. It's a lovely day." Jenna's eyes sparkled as she pulled a paisley scarf from her purse and tied her hair in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. "Let's go."
He settled into his seat, desperately trying to ignore the way her skirt rode up revealing her shapely legs as she fastened her seatbelt. Then she adjusted the radio to a soft rock station and sat back listening while he started the engine.
In spite of the scarf, the wind whipped her hair around her face, and she hummed to the music as he sped away. He noticed her hearing aid and realized suddenly that she usually wore her hair over her ears. Did she wear it down to cover her hearing aid?
Maybe, maybe not. She seemed comfortable with the disability, and it obviously hadn't affected her speech. Memories of a deaf boy he'd known in school taunted him. Some of the other kids had made fun of them. His jaw tightened.
Had kids made fun of Jenna?
"How about Luigi's?" Jenna suggested. "They have great pizza and pasta."