Divorced, Desperate, and Delicious

Chapter 30

"You slept with Eric?" His emotions ping-ponged back and forth as he tried to make sense of the conversation.

"No," she said. "But if I wasn't such a lousy liar, I'd tell you I did."

"Then why the hell did you wear that dress?" he asked.

She kicked off one of her shoes. The red pump swished by his leg, landing in the dining room, and then the other came whizzing by and hit the litter box. "Good kitty," the litter box's recorder played. "Now cover it up."

"You're right," Lacy said. "I intended to get laid tonight. But it just didn't work out. So tell me, did you have better luck than I did?"

He raked another hand over his face. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm not understanding something here."

She yanked a clip out of her hair. "Please, don't play me for a fool. I saw you, Chase." Her bare foot started tapping.

Her words sank in and he got his first clue to this puzzle. "You saw me where?"

She pushed her fingers through the dark curls, shaking them loose. Chase longed to step closer and help her. One or two runs of his fingers and he'd have her hair properly mussed for a night of serious lovemaking. A second or two more and he'd have that dress unzipped and puddling around her ankles. He wondered if she had on red underwear to match the dress. Damn, she looked sexy. Smelled great. But she'd dressed up for Eric; hadn't she? Her foot continued to tap on the floor.

She pointed a finger at him. So, Lacy was a toe tapper and a pointer. Chase watched that small digit start to shake. His mother had been a pointer, and if he'd learned anything, it was that when the finger came out, hell was about to break loose. But Lacy wasn't his mother and he could give her hell back.

He grabbed her by the wrist. Her blue eyes squinted tighter, and she started talking. "You had flowers and groceries. It was another . . . another cook-dinner-and-have-sex-with-Jessie night. Never mind that she doesn't give a flip for you. Oh, but wait. That's why you like her!"

Understanding hit like a cool breeze in mid-July, and damn if it didn't feel good. "You came to my place tonight? You saw me knocking on Jessie's door? You know, I smelled your perfume when I got in the elevator."

"Congratulations, Columbo. You finally figured it out." She jerked her hand free and propped it on her hip.

"So this . . ." He waved a hand up and down. "The dress and the perfume, it was all for me?" He smiled and reared back on his heels a little, and took some time to enjoy the view.

* * *

Lacy couldn't believe Chase stood there all cocky and smiling. The nerve, the gall! How dare he find something humorous about this? She was definitely going to tell her mother to hire the hit man.

"What kind of flowers were they, Lacy?" He stepped closer. Fabio came barking into the room.

"You know what kind." She walked backwards into her living room, nearly tripping over her own feet as Fabio danced in her path. Oh, Lordie, but Chase looked good tonight. Dressed in khaki Dockers and a button-down blue shirt, sex appeal oozed from him. But he'd already oozed it all over Jessie. Still, she longed to touch him. She'd missed him, missed his laughter, and the devilish gleam in his green eyes. But the green-eyed devil was going to have to go, because sharing just wasn't her thing.

"Were they red roses?" He arched an eyebrow. "Like those?" He pointed behind her.

She swung around. Her mouth dropped open.

There, on her kitchen table, complete with candles and two plates, sat a vase of red roses. She heard him move behind her.

"Leonardo ate the baby's breath," he apologized, and his hands came around her. "I went to wish Jessie good luck with her husband and to tell her good-bye. Nothing else. Just good-bye." He pressed his lips to the back of her neck. "So, you expected to get laid tonight, did you?"