Escaping the Past

by Tammy Falkner

  Lou clutched them in her hand. “You have to be kidding me. I have never worn these before.”

  “Nope. If he sees a little string of lace above your waistband, he’ll be thinking about them all night long. Trust me.”

  Lou stepped into the panties and pulled them up, wiggling as they settled into place. “You’ll forget about them in a few minutes,” Liz said. Lou nodded.

  She opened Lou’s underwear drawer again and sifted through her bras. “Your breasts are bigger than mine. I’m jealous.” She pulled a black bra from the drawer and tossed it to Lou. It was one of the smallest and sexiest ones she had. Lou turned her back and put it on, dropping the towel. “Damn, I wish I had an ass like that,” Liz said. “Do you work out?”

  “I run,” Lou replied, uncomfortable with the appraisal.

  “I could run all day and not get an ass like that,” Liz stated.

  Lou shrugged. “But you have great legs.”

  Liz waved her off. “We all have something we want to change. Besides, you have great legs, too.” She fished amongst the pile of clothes again and pulled out a tiny jean miniskirt. “I think this will look fabulous on you.”

  “I don’t know, Liz,” Lou said, holding the miniscule piece of fabric up to her body. It fell just six inches below her crotch.

  “Oh, try it on and see how it looks.”

  Lou put it on and tugged the miniskirt’s hem southward but was unable to get any extra length.

  “It’s not going to grow on you. I promise.” Liz picked up a modern version of a hippie tube top and handed it to Lou. It was light blue with complimentary streaks of color that danced across the fabric, completely off the shoulder. “If you wear this one, you’ll have to lose the bra.”

  Lou clutched her bosom. “I can’t go out without a bra.”

  “Lou,” she said gently. “You have got a rack most women would kill for. Or pay a lot of money for, like I did.”

  “Your boobs aren’t real?” Lou asked incredulously.

  “Nope. I was born flat as a board.”

  Lou laughed out loud.

  Lou put on the top and surveyed the effect in the mirror. She unhooked the bra and took it off. The gathered tube top clung to her breasts and gentle folds of fabric poured around her hips in a jagged edge. She had to admit that the effect was stunning.

  She turned and faced Liz. “What do you think?”

  “That’s the one,” she replied, nodding her head. “Now for the hair and makeup.” She expertly applied foundation, powder, eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, and a touch of lipstick. Liz sat her on the closed toilet lid and flipped her head upside down, drying it while she was inverted. Then she sat her up and ran her fingers through, fluffing it. She picked up a warm curling iron and rolled small ringlets of the hair around her face. Then she piled some of the hair on top of her head and secured it with a clasp. She stepped back, surveyed her work and sprayed the finished product lightly with hairspray.

  Lou turned and looked into the mirror. She gasped and said, “Damn, you do good work.”

  “It’s hard to mess with perfection, Lou. I just enhanced what you already have.” Lou stepped into the room and surveyed herself in the full dressing mirror on the back of her door.

  “Will this get Brody’s attention? Better yet, will it keep his attention?” she muttered.

  Liz heard her anyway. “Let’s go and see, shall we?” She held out a pair of thong sandals to Lou and offered her some accessories. She took the sandals and pulled them on her feet. She turned down the accessories, opting to wear the silver necklace Brody had given her instead.

  The two women walked down and the stairs whispering. “Are you sure this skirt’s not too short?” Lou asked breathlessly, her heart fluttering in her chest.

  “Positive,” Liz said as she pushed her through the doorway into the kitchen.

  “Jesus Christ,” Brody breathed, standing when he saw her for the first time.

  ****

  She walked through the doorway and Brody felt his pants tighten as he looked her up and down. She usually possessed such a subtle beauty that Lou all made up was somewhat shocking. He started down at her feet, appraising the leather thong sandals that fit between her perfectly manicured toes. His gaze moved up her ankles and calves, taking in her thin yet defined shin muscles. He moved past her knees to her long, firm thighs. Her tiny jean skirt barely left anything to the imagination. Yet that imagination was running wild. Damn, it was going crazy.

  Silky, nearly transparent fabric floated around her hips. A tight fitting top hugged her breasts like a second skin. Her nipples tightened as his gaze ran over them. He licked his lips.

  His gaze traveled up to creamy shoulders that were left bare. Her dark hair tickled those shoulders. His gaze lingered as he saw her reach up to finger the dream catcher necklace he had given her. He took in her hair, partially piled atop her head, as it touched her face. Liz had brought out the color of her eyes and made her lips look perfectly kissable. That was all he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her. He didn’t want to go to The Pour House. He didn’t want to be in a room with other people.

  He wanted to be all alone with Lou so that he could drink in the sight of her and appreciate her in the way he wanted—completely naked.

  This was a totally different side of her. Everyone knew Lou was beautiful, but you usually noticed her inner beauty first, her laughing eyes, kind nature, her quick wit. Now, all he could see were legs stretching on endlessly, heavy breasts he ached to touch, and a perfect mouth he wanted to kiss. Her hair begged to be let down from its clasp atop her head.

  John finally broke the silence by stating loudly, “Well, daggum, Lou! You look purtier than I’ve ever seen you!” He walked over and picked her up, spinning her around. The skirt rose up dangerously high.

  Lou scolded John, putting her hand on his shoulders and smacking at them. “Will you put me down?” she shrieked, laughing.

  She stepped back and took in John’s appearance. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” John wore jeans, a button down shirt tucked into those jeans, one cowboy boot on one foot, and his cast on the other.

  Her gaze moved over to Brody, similarly attired, including the hat that rested on the top of his head. He thought his bruised face gave him a rakish appearance. His hat was pulled low over his forehead, somewhat hiding his gaze from hers, which was probably a good thing. If she could have guessed what he was thinking, she would have been scared out of her britches. Which, come to think of it, didn’t sound like a bad idea.

  “You guys ready to go?” John asked, extending his arm to Elizabeth. She took hold of it with a smile and tapped the front of his hat. “You feel like riding with me, cowboy?”

  “Why, yes, ma’am. I would be honored.” He followed her out to the car and opened the door for her. She slid in and he went around to the passenger’s side. John didn’t like riding shotgun, but his cast still prevented him from driving.

  “Try not to muss her up too much, Brody,” Liz called from the open car window as they pulled away.

  Lou licked her lips as Brody approached slowly. He lifted a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers, regarding her from beneath lowered lashes. She licked her lips and fidgeted as his eyes surveyed her from head to toe again. She took a deep breath, her jaw quivering slightly. “You look amazing,” he breathed. “Any chance I could talk you into just staying home?” he asked as his mouth rested on her bare shoulder.

  “And miss my very first date ever?” Lou asked. Was she excited about tonight? “This is a date, right?” Yes, she was excited.

  Brody remembered their discussion at the hospital when they had first met. She had confessed that, even at her age, she had never been on a real date. She looked a little let down that he would even suggest staying home, and he realized that she was anticipating the evening for more than just the thought of going out and having a good time. She was creating a memory. A first date. And he got to be her lucky beau with whom she would s
hare it.

  He suddenly sobered. “Yes, ma’am. This is one hundred percent a real date.” He held his arm out to her in the same manner that John had with Elizabeth.

  They walked out to the Jeep together and Brody held open the door for her. She slid into the seat, unaware that she was showing a good bit of the creamy skin of her inner thigh as she did so. Brody looked away and caught his lower lip between his teeth, biting hard to take his thoughts off Lou’s thighs. Damn, but he was in for a long night.

  Chapter Twenty

  Walking into The Pour House took Lou back to the days when she would visit the strip clubs with her mother. She had to wait back in the fitting rooms and entertain herself with games and other activities while her mother danced. Sometimes, though, she would peek out at the crowd when no one was looking.

  This club had the same kind of atmosphere but it didn’t feel dirty in the least. Ladies stomped across the dance floor in their cowboy boots, their men trailing close behind. People told loud stories while sitting on tall stools around even taller tables. They held drinks in one hand, peanuts in the other. Women smacked their gum and men tried to outdo one another.

  Lou stepped across the threshold and felt Brody’s hand slip into hers. She raised her gaze and smiled into his eyes. Her sandals crunched across peanut shells spread around the floor.

  Brody pointed out John and Liz seated at one of the tall tables. They had saved seats for them both. Lou sat down next to Liz and smiled tentatively, not quite sure what to do with her hands.

  “Why don’t you go and get her a drink to hold on to, Brody?” Liz shook her own glass in his direction and chinked the ice cubes around. “Grab me another while you’re at it, won’t you?”

  Brody looked at Lou. “Do you want water? Soft drink?”

  Liz broke in. “Hell no, she doesn’t want water or a soft drink,” she said with a smile.

  “Lou?” he asked.

  “Just get me whatever you’re having,” she said quietly to Brody.

  “I’m driving,” Brody said. “But I’ll get something you’ll like.”

  “Hey,” John said, tipping his own bottle up. “Don’t forget about me.” He set the empty beer bottle on the table.

  “Who could forget about you?” Brody muttered as he walked away.

  Liz immediately scooted closer to Lou. Lou leaned over and spoke in her ear. “Is he here yet?” she asked, wondering if the object of Liz’s affection had arrived.

  She nodded. “Yeah.” She pointed with her eyes to the man sitting two tables away. Lou turned to look in his direction. “Don’t look!” she yelped in Lou’s ear. “Or he’s going to see you.”

  Lou laughed, feeling like she was back in high school. “Is he alone?”

  “He had better be,” was Liz’s only response.

  Brody came back to the table carrying one drink in a glass with ice and three beers. He passed them out and took a seat beside Lou, dropping one arm around her shoulders.

  Lou heard the twangy sound of country music as the song changed and the sound of the footsteps on the dance floor took on a new beat. She tapped her foot in rhythm with the song. She lifted the beer to her lips and felt the cool glass as it pressed against them. The bitter liquid poured over her tongue and she grimaced. Liz reached into her own glass, plucked out a lemon wedge, and forced it into the rim of the bottle.

  “There. Now try it.” She encouraged Lou to raise the bottle again.

  “Better,” Lou stated, nodding her head.

  Liz was totally focused on the man, the object of her affection.

  “Mary Gordon just sat down next to him. The little hussy,” she breathed.

  Lou casually looked over and waved a hand in the air in dismissal. “She has nothing on you.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I know so,” Lou replied. She had never had a girlfriend in her life, but was enjoying the camaraderie. “What’s his name?”

  Liz breathed on a heavy sigh, “Dave.”

  Liz gasped as she saw Dave get up and lead Mary Gordon onto the dance floor. “That’s it.” She smacked her hand on the table. “I need someone to dance with.” She looked hesitantly toward Lou. “Can I steal your man for just a few minutes?”

  Lou thought hard about it for a moment and said, “I would love to share my man with you, for the sole purpose of dancing, that is. However, I would like to dance the first dance with him myself.” She looked at him beseechingly after draining the last drop of her beer.

  He choked on soda. She patted him on the back, laughing. “You want to dance?” he sputtered out.

  “Well, not if you don’t want to.” She pretended to pout.

  “Oh, no,” he laughed back. “If the lady wants to dance on our first date, the lady gets to dance.” He stood up and pulled her from her chair, gently tugging her fingertips. He led her onto the dance floor and quickly showed her how to do a lively two-step. Alan Jackson set the rhythm and Brody kept it. Lou followed along surprisingly well.

  The sound of Alan Jackson slowly tapered off and everyone on the dance floor stopped briefly to clap.

  Then it was time for the next one. Barely a breather and Lou felt Brody slide his arms around her waist and pull her close. Her arms rose up around his neck where her hands tickled the fine curls that hung over his collar.

  “I had no idea you could dance so well,” she said in his ear.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” He smiled into her eyes, as though they were the only two people in the world.

  Lou felt his hands slide under her shirt to rest on the skin of her back. His hands moved along the waistline of her skirt and then he frowned. One finger slipped below the lacy fabric of the thong she was wearing which rode just a little higher than her skirt.

  He took a deep breath. “Is that what I think it is?” he spoke close to her ear.

  “Uh huh.” She nodded. Suddenly out of breath herself, heat creeping up her cheeks. “You don’t like it?”

  “Well…” Common sense obviously warred with his true thoughts, “I haven’t seen it yet.”

  “And just what makes you think you’re going to see it tonight?” she asked pertly. “Do you usually sleep with women on the first date?”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” He groaned.

  “Try me,” she replied.

  “Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, Lou. Good grief,” he joked, nuzzling her neck.

  Just then, the slow dance ended and Lou heard the quick beat of a Taylor Swift song begin. She felt a tap on her right shoulder and heard a kind voice speak to her. “Is this gentleman going to take all your time tonight? Or do you think you could steal a minute for an old man?” He must have been in his fifties and Brody knew him immediately, smiling and shaking hands with him.

  “This old fella taught me geometry, Lou.” He addressed the older man. “Anyone but you and I would have to say no,” he laughed. “But if the lady agrees…” He motioned that they should proceed. Lou nodded enthusiastically.

  As her new partner led her away, she yelled back to Brody, “Go and get Liz.” He nodded back at her, heading in that direction.

  Lou went through two more partners before Brody found his way back to her. His arms slipped around her as he nuzzled the side of her face with his evening scruff. “Having fun?” he asked.

  She nodded slowly. “I’m having a great time. Thanks so much for bringing me.” He brought his head down to kiss her softly and quickly on the lips.

  “You see what I did?” he asked Lou, nodding to a place over his shoulder. Lou looked and saw Liz pressed close to Dave. They looked deeply into one another’s eyes, as though they were made for each other.

  “Bet I can guess who she’ll be going home with tonight,” Lou replied. “How did you do it?”

  “Best way to get a man’s attention is to give yours to someone else. That little green-eyed monster will get ‘em every time.” Brody laughed.

  “Have you seen John?” Lou asked.

 
; “Last time I saw him, he was, indeed, getting sympathy credits from a lady at the bar. He was sitting that stool pretty well.”

  The song ended and he led her back to the table. “I’ll be right back,” he said to her as she sat down and he handed her another beer. “Got to find the little cowboy’s room.” She nodded, raising her beer to her lips.

  As soon as Brody was out of her sight, she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. She jumped as she realized it was Wes.

  He said quietly, “Don’t say a word.” He held up a hand to stop her. “I just need to talk to you. Things are not what they appear to be. Call me when you can talk.” He pressed a folded note into her hand, his eyebrows raised in question.