Shut Up and Kiss Me

by Julie Cannon

  Her question irritated me, not only because she asked it but the way she phrased the question and her tone. Everything always had a negative connotation. “You did bring something appropriate, didn’t you?” versus “what did you bring to wear to the party”?

  I put on my jacket and slid my room key, a credit card, and some cash into my pocket. Then I counted to ten before I stepped out of my room. I’d made a wager with myself on how long it would be before my mother or Victoria commented on my suit. Less than a minute, I was thinking. Judging by Victoria’s expression when I stepped into the living room, I knew I had grossly overestimated the length of time.

  “My god, Lowe. You look like a man.”

  “Thank you, Victoria. I like what you’re wearing too. It’s a good color on you.” I didn’t even attempt to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “Vera Wang?”

  Victoria squinted and then grasped the undertone in my compliment. It was not a flattering look on my baby sister.

  “I certainly don’t know what you do at home, but do you think that’s appropriate to wear to an event of this magnitude?” She waved her hand at me like she had something stuck to her fingers. Obviously, Victoria thought the party was the equivalent of the coronation of Prince William as the new King of England.

  “Clearly I do. And yes, it is quite nice, isn’t it?” I looked down at my perfectly tailored tuxedo. “There’s a specialty shop in Phoenix that carries the ladies’ line of Armani,” I said, as if name-dropping the expensive designer would solve the issue. “I was able to get it pretty much right off the rack.” That was a bit of an exaggeration. I’d had the sleeve lengthened by a half inch and the trousers taken in an inch at the waist. Nothing would irritate and gall Victoria more than to think I’d walked in off the street and bought something for such a special and visible event. I doubted that Victoria ever bought anything that she didn’t have altered, whether it needed it or not. I was certain she had specially ordered her jade-green, knee-length dress for this occasion.

  “Hello,” my mother said from behind me.

  When I turned, I was certain my mother hadn’t recognized her own daughter standing in her living room. “Hello, Mother. That’s a beautiful dress.” My compliment was more out of habit and politeness than the fact that it was beautiful. It was too pale for her complexion, and the sequins on the floor-length dress made it much too formal. But I knew not to question her or voice my opinion if it was anything other than positive. I’d learned long ago to keep my viewpoint to myself.

  “This is what Lowe is wearing to the party,” Victoria said in a tone that she used to get me in trouble when we were children.

  “Lowe, do you really think—”

  “Yes, Mother, I do.” I quickly cut off the objection I knew would follow. I refused to change, not only because I didn’t have anything else, but because there was absolutely nothing wrong with my attire for the evening.

  The thick tension in the air between us was finally broken by my father when he stood up and rubbed his hands together.

  “We need to go,” he said, not even looking at his watch. “We don’t want to be more than fashionably late.”

  He barely glanced at the three of us, but his eyes lingered on me for a split second longer, and he frowned.

  I stepped into the hall and waited for him to lock the door behind us. Victoria and my mother didn’t. They practically stomped down the hall, anger seething from them.

  I stood next to my father in the elevator, the mirrored doors reflecting just how much I looked like him, especially in formal wear. We had the same cheekbones, blue eyes, and chin. My father’s hair was gray and thin in a few spots, and I remembered him being taller than he appeared now. My mother’s forehead was still creased in disapproval, and Victoria scowled as we rode down to the main deck.

  The doors opened, soft music and murmured voices greeting us as we stepped off the elevator. I surveyed the room, nodding a greeting to several familiar faces. More than a few reacted similarly to my mother and sister when they saw what I was wearing. Jeez. Get over it, people.

  It was crowded, a quartet of musicians seated on a temporary platform next to a stage in front of the room. The music blended with the tone of the occasion. The women wore dresses in various colors and lengths, but all the men wore basic tuxedos with a white shirt and black tie. From a distance, my tuxedo looked black, but it was in fact a deep shade of blue, my silk tie also blue with white polka dots. It wasn’t one of the premade ties that clipped on, but an authentic bow tie, and I’d spent hours in front of a mirror learning how to tie it perfectly.

  A plump woman in her mid-sixties wearing an unflattering, rust-colored, floor-length gown, her hair piled neatly on top of her head, approached, an expectant expression on her lined face.

  “Francis, Landon, thank you so much for coming. My parents will be thrilled.”

  My parents returned the greeting, my mother giving the woman a polite air kiss. “These are my daughters, Victoria and Lowe.”

  Whereas most parents introduce their children in birth order, mine did just the opposite. It had ceased to bother me, as I understood where I stood in the familial pecking order.

  “This is Madeline Miles, Franklin and Josephine’s eldest.”

  “Thank you for coming,” Madeline said, shaking Victoria’s hand.

  “Thank you for inviting us,” Victoria said. She definitely knew how to play the social game. “We’ve heard so much about your parents. They sound like wonderful people.”

  Madeline turned toward me. “I’m sorry. Lowe, did you say?”

  I extended my hand. “Yes, Lowe Carter. Pleased to meet you, Madeline.”

  “So you’re the infamous Lowe Carter,” Madeline said, blatantly appraising me suspiciously, and it clearly wasn’t what I was wearing that she disapproved of.

  I saw my mother shoot her glance at me. No one wanted their child to be infamous. Famous yes, infamous, no.

  “Well, I don’t know what I did to earn that designation, but I do know your parents, and they are absolutely wonderful.”

  “Yes, and you are as well, according to them. They seem to be quite smitten with you, especially my father.”

  A harshness in her tone put me on guard. Did she actually suspect I was after something from her parents? I pitied her if she thought that.

  “I visit them every time I come on board,” I said, keeping my tone light. “Your father and I work the crossword puzzles.”

  “Yes,” Madeline said, looking me over, not even bothering to hide her rudeness. “He says you are quite helpful to him.”

  “I wouldn’t categorize it as that. I come up with a four-letter word now and then when he needs it,” I said, staring directly into Madeline’s eyes and daring her to continue this absurd train of conversation. She got my message

  “Well, thank you all for coming,” Madeline said, stepping back and effectively granting us access to the room. “Mother and Father are around somewhere. Please stop by and say hello. My siblings will introduce themselves throughout the evening. Please help yourself to the buffet and cocktails. We’ll be having a toast at nine thirty.”

  Victoria stepped up, obviously designating herself as the speaker of the family. “Thank you, Madeline, we will. It’s a lovely evening for the celebration.”

  “I got the impression Madeline doesn’t care for you,” Victoria commented after the tight-ass, pompous woman walked away.

  “Really?” I asked, my question fake. “I have no idea why she wouldn’t. Her father and I are nothing more than casual acquaintances. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to mingle.”

  I disappeared into the crowd, incensed from Madeline’s ridiculous innuendoes. I hoped she hadn’t said anything to her father. He was a sweet man, and I enjoyed talking with him. He had never been anything other than a complete gentleman every time we were together.

  Beer wasn’t a selection at the bar, so I ordered a cocktail and scanned the crowd, looking for Faith. She hadn’t
mentioned if she’d been invited, but I’d seen other crew members in attendance in formal wear and had overheard others talking about their invitation to the party.

  I left a hefty tip on the bar, and the bartender extended a sincere thank you. I always tipped generously. He would certainly remember me next time, and there definitely would be a next time.

  I stepped away from the bar and heard my name called from my right. Shirley was waving at me, and I started in that direction then stopped suddenly. Faith was standing next to her, stunning in a simple black dress that fell just below her knees. Her hair was up in a French braid, sparkling earrings dangling from her ears. The cut of her dress was simple and elegant, held up by thin spaghetti straps across her shoulders. Polished toenails peeked out from the end of very tall, strappy sandals. Her dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves and bringing out the tan of her skin. Breathtakingly beautiful, she was the only thing I could see, my view completely focused on her. My heart pounded, the beat deafening. My mind raced at the image of her dress slowly sliding off her shoulders and falling in a pool at my feet. I wondered what she wore underneath.

  Someone bumped me, jostling me out of my sexual stupor and propelling me in their direction.

  “My goodness, Lowe,” Shirley said as I approached. “You look so handsome, if I may say so.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, forcing myself to look at Shirley. After all, she was the one speaking to me.

  “If I were thirty years younger, I would hope you would ask me to dance.’

  Her statement surprised me. “Age is only a number, Shirley, and I would be honored to dance with you. Save me a place on your dance card?”

  “Absolutely,” she said.” Don’t wait too long. I go to bed early, you know.”

  I turned to Faith, and my mouth was suddenly very dry, all of the blood cells needed for my brain to have a normal conversation rocketing southward. Faith’s eyes burned, taking what little breath I had recently refilled in my lungs. She wore little makeup, and what she did have on accentuated her eyes, her glossy lips an invitation to be kissed. I pocketed that enticement for later.

  “Faith, you look lovely tonight.” I moved near, fully intending to buss her check, but when the scent of her perfume hit me, I leaned in closer and whispered, “You’re absolutely beautiful.” I felt Faith’s sharp intake of breath and stepped back, pleased that she was equally affected by our encounter.

  “Thank you,” she replied, her face flushed.

  “Doesn’t Lowe look dapper? It’s the only word I can think of,” Shirley said.

  “That’s not the word that comes to mind,” Faith murmured. “But it works.”

  My pulse raced even faster, the pounding between my legs growing harder at Faith’s innuendo.

  “Where do you get a tuxedo that fits like that?” Shirley asked.

  I felt the heat of Faith’s gaze as it skimmed over my body. “At a specialty shop in Phoenix.”

  “May I?” Shirley asked, reaching out and touching my sleeve. “My goodness, this is very nice.” She moved her hand over the fine material. “And I don’t think anyone else in the room could carry off that tie,” she said, pointing to my collar that suddenly felt too tight.

  “Feel this, Faith,” Shirley said running her hand down the sleeve of my jacket. “This is quality.”

  Faith reached out and moved her fingers under the lapel of my jacket, the back of her fingers skimming my breast. I didn’t forget to breathe. I simply couldn’t. The nearness of Faith and her soft touch drove every thought from my mind except taking her to a very private place and finding out exactly what was beneath that dress.

  Faith’s eyes shot to mine, and I didn’t even try to hide my desire. What was the point? Hiding it wouldn’t get me where I wanted to be, which was naked with Faith.

  “Oh, there’s Tom,” Shirley said, breaking the connection. “If you two will excuse me,” she said, not really asking our permission.

  I put my hand over Faith’s before she could remove it. I pressed it tighter against my chest so Faith could feel my pounding heart. My back was to the crowd, so I wasn’t worried that anyone would see what I was doing. For an instant, I didn’t care if they did.

  “My god, you are beautiful,” I said, the word insufficient to describe Faith this evening.

  “Thank you,” Faith said, her voice just above a whisper.

  Still pressing Faith’s hand against my chest, I leaned in again. “Do you want to get out of here as much as I do?” I slid Faith’s hand under my jacket. There was no way she could miss the hardness of my nipple or my message.

  ***

  My heart throbbed and my head spun, and if Lowe hadn’t been holding my hand, I would have dissolved into a hot mess on the floor. I knew Lowe had been invited to the party, Mr. Cobalt telling me as much the other day. I’d been nervous ever since and had rummaged through more than a few of my workmates’ closets for something appropriate to wear. In the end, I settled on the dress that had been carefully wrapped in the back of my small closet. You just can’t go wrong with basic black. I’d borrowed my shoes, however, from my hall-mate, Donna, who just so happened to be heading our way, her eyes wide.

  Reluctantly, I pulled my hand from Lowe, instantly missing the connection.

  “Faith, there you are. I’ve been looking for you all over.”

  I knew Donna was lying. She’d waved to Shirley and me just before Lowe joined us. She wanted to meet Lowe, and this was her not-so-subtle way of accomplishing just that. Lowe gave me one more burning look before turning her attention to Donna.

  “Donna Evans, this is Lowe Carter, Mr. and Mrs. Carter’s daughter,” I offered for introduction.

  “Miss Carter, pleased to meet you,” Donna said, appraising Lowe like she was the dessert tray.

  “Please call me Lowe.”

  “You’re visiting your parents?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “How long are you staying?” There was more than polite conversation in her question.

  Jealousy shot through me, equally unintentional and ridiculous. If Donna wanted to have a shipboard fling with Lowe, that was her business. But I’d never get over it if she did.

  “I’m scheduled to depart when we return to Sydney,” Lowe replied, then glanced at me. My skin tingled. “But I may stay longer.”

  “Wonderful,” Donna said, still holding Lowe’s hand. “Would you like to dance?”

  I was stunned at the boldness in Donna’s approach. I looked at Lowe, unsure what her reaction would be.

  “Actually, I promised the first dance to Faith,” she said, smoothly withdrawing her hand from between Donna’s. “Maybe some other time.”

  Donna looked back and forth between Lowe and me, her eyes laced with anger. “Yes,” she said. “Maybe later.”

  How interesting that Lowe had committed to dance with Shirley but had shied away from an obvious opportunity with Donna, who was obviously offering more than a round on the dance floor.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Dance with me?” Lowe asked, holding out her hand.

  I hesitated, and Lowe said, “You wouldn’t want me to look bad, would you?”

  Lowe was a probably a good dancer, but I had never danced with anyone who had physically affected me as much as she did. I’d probably stumble over my own feet and make a complete fool of myself. I could barely think, let alone form a complete sentence when I was this close to Lowe, so how in the hell would I be able to put one foot in front of the other? More appropriately, one foot behind each other.

  After a rocky start the first morning in Milford Sound, we’d gotten along much better than I expected. Lowe was casual without being overly so, and I knew she was making an effort for me. At the end of the day, I’d grudgingly admitted I’d had a wonderful time.

  Not coming up with an appropriate excuse not to dance with her, I placed my hand in hers.

  “I certainly wouldn’t want to be the cause of making you look bad.” I was surprised
at my ability to be flippant when my body was betraying me.

  I felt dozens of eyes on us as we walked hand in hand to the center of the dance floor. When Lowe stopped and pulled me into her arms, I thought I heard a gasp or two from behind me. Lowe didn’t appear to have heard it, nor did she seem to be the slightest bit uncomfortable if she had.

  I stepped into her arms and almost stumbled at how perfectly we fit together. Her arms were strong yet held me gently, a respectable distance between us. She smelled delicious, and I inhaled her scent several times.

  I tried to make conversation, when all I wanted was to settle against her and turn off the world. I felt safe, warm, and protected.

  “Shirley was right. You do look very handsome.”

  Lowe smiled and my heart flipped.

  “My mother thinks my choice of formal wear for this evening is appalling.”

  I slid my hand from Lowe’s shoulder, down her back, and up again, feeling the texture of her jacket. The softness and quality of the material was unmistakable, and I told her as much. I didn’t share how much her muscles reacting to my touch affected me.

  “Oh, it’s not what it’s made of. She just thinks I should wear something that shows off my legs and my shoulders.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at Lowe’s sense of humor. “Really? Would she think it more appropriate if you had on a pair of knickers and a tank top?”

  Lowe laughed, a deep rumbling in her chest that caused a shiver to traverse through me. It was a wonderful sound, and I needed to think of ways to make her laugh more often.

  “That probably would be worse,” Lowe said, still chuckling.

  “Well, I think what you’re wearing is perfectly acceptable. You look better than any woman in the room.” I leaned back a little, taking another opportunity to look her over. My heart was in a race with my pulse for beating the hardest.

  “Thank you,” Lowe said, her smile showing that she appreciated the compliment.

  “My sister almost had a stroke, and my mother didn’t even recognize me standing in the middle of her apartment. I’m sure she was tempted to ground me for the evening.”