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“I didn’t know you were having a New Year’s Eve party.”
“Neither did I. I feel strangely compelled.”
“Give me that.” Gwen snatched the skirt away and put it back into her suitcase.
“I’m still having the party.”
“Everyone’s already got plans.”
“Do you have plans?” Laurie asked.
“Well, I usually go over to my parents’…stop looking at me like that!” Gwen dragged her suitcase out of Laurie’s car.
“How am I supposed to look at you? It sounds so pathetic!”
“It’s not! They have an open house—and an open bar, the good stuff. It’s not a jug wine-and-chips kind of thing. And they serve real champagne at midnight,” she added with a touch of desperation when Laurie continued to look at her with deepening pity. “And it can’t hurt my career to network with their friends.”
Laurie squinted into the distance. “Their friends could have sons.” She nodded. “Could be good. I’ll come, too.”
“You’re not invited!”
“Why not?”
“What about your party?”
She waved her hand. “Everyone will already have plans.”
“You aren’t going to find any men there—at least not men our age. They’re my parents’ friends.”
“I can’t be your parents’ friend?”
Her mother had breezily suggested Gwen bring “somebody.” Gwen knew she had meant somebody male, somebody to deflect the annual marital status grilling. She eyed Laurie. Bringing a female might be even better. Definitely better. There would never again be any of those “When are you…?” questions.
“Okay,” she said.
“Great! Can I bring anything?”
“No. It’s catered. Oh, and I always sleep over, so pack your jammies.”
“Ooo, not jammies. What if someone sees me?”
Laurie was blond, young and in good shape. Very good shape. She’d blow out the men’s pacemakers. “Bring a robe.”
“No, no, no, no, no. You misunderstood. I might want to be seen.”
“I understood all right. It’s flannel and opaque or you don’t go.”
Laurie threw out her lower lip in a pout. “That’s not very festive.”
“It’s a New Year’s Eve party at my parents’ place. You aren’t supposed to be festive!”
Laurie raised an eyebrow.
“Not festive in that way,” Gwen said.
“You mean in a prepared-for-serendipity way?”
“I mean in a going-after-middle-aged-married-men way.”
“You should talk. You’re the one who’s going to be wearing the skirt. You’ll see. And so will their wives. But don’t worry. I’ll be there to watch your back.”
Gwen shuddered at the thought. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” she said noncommittally and began wheeling her suitcase over to the covered parking. “Thanks for the ride.” She turned to wave at Laurie and nearly smacked her in the face because she was right behind her. “What are you doing?”
Laurie discreetly pointed to Gwen’s charcoal gray Japanese import. “Are those legs supposed to be under your car?”
Gwen had already seen the cutoff clad legs of her neighbor sticking out from beneath her car. He’d driven over the curb so that the front wheels were lifted off the ground. From the angle they now stood, she could see under the car to the slice of well-muscled midriff that was also exposed. She heaved a deep breath in irritation. “Yeah.”
Laurie audibly swallowed. “You don’t need the skirt. Give it to me right now.”
Clearly, Laurie wasn’t going anywhere without an introduction. Even though Gwen had given up men, she still didn’t want to see her neighbor’s reaction to Laurie in hunting mode. She had a nice little nonrelationship thing going with him and Laurie could really screw it up.
Honestly, Gwen didn’t know how she did it, yet right now, she could feel Laurie getting into the zone. It was more than just throwing back her shoulders and licking her lips. Something about her walk changed. And her expression. She made eye contact with a vengeance.
Just for the sake of experimentation, Gwen tried making eye contact with her neighbor’s legs. It didn’t work—and not only because he chose that moment to shove himself from beneath the car and stretch, providing them with a brief, yet highly memorable view of his supine body.
Gwen choked in the middle of swallowing.
“Hey, Gwen, you’re back!” Shoving himself off the stained pavement, he brushed at the back of his shorts, examined his hands, reached for a red rag and wiped them off.
“Hi, Alec. This is…”
But Laurie was ahead of her purring, “Hi. I’m Laurie.”
“Laurie, this is my neighbor, Alec Fleming,” Gwen said at the same moment Alec was reaching for Laurie’s hand and introducing himself.
Clearly her work here was done. Ordinarily, Gwen would discreetly move away, but she wanted to see the show. And there was the matter of knowing whether or not Alec was finished with her car.
Laurie immediately moved closer to him, getting into his personal space, Gwen noted, though she didn’t know why she bothered. She wasn’t planning on using any of Laurie’s stalking tips.
Alec had tucked his fingertips in his back pockets, a pose that displayed the width of his chest and showed off his arms, which were revealed by a sweatshirt that he’d cut the sleeves off. The ragged edges emphasized his shoulders.
Ah, mating rituals. Laurie looked dazzled and not as sure of herself as she usually did.
Gwen could see why. Even in his grease-monkey state—or maybe because of his grease-monkey state—Alec was looking mighty fine.
But then, he usually did. He was lucky enough to have a natural honey-on-whole-wheat-toast color of skin that meant he looked good without subjecting himself to the damaging effects of the sun.
Now that she’d given up men, Gwen would no longer be subjecting herself to multihour sessions involving exfoliation and painting her body with self-tanner, then standing with outstretched arms during most of a movie-of-the-week and hoping that no one was peeking through the space where her curtains didn’t quite meet.
Men. Too much trouble. She shook her head slightly as Laurie wrinkled her nose. Wrinkled her nose. Someone probably once told her it looked cute. Gwen supposed it did, in a way, if you were a man. Look at me. I’m so helpless and you’re so big and strong. Ick, ick and more ick.
“I really appreciate you giving Gwen, here, a ride home.” Alec turned just enough to include Gwen in their charmed circle.
“Gwen’s a friend. I didn’t mind,” Laurie breathed.
At least she didn’t tell him it hadn’t been any trouble, because any trip to the busy Houston airport was a royal pain.
“And aren’t you just the sweetest thing to change her oil for her?”
Laurie’s voice had taken a syrupy tone to which she wasn’t entitled since she’d been born and raised in Kansas City. Gwen narrowed her eyes at her, but she didn’t notice.
Alec didn’t either. He was too busy flashing a grin at Laurie. “She’s paying me!”
Which was what Gwen had already told her. It mollified her somewhat that Alec admitted it. She was about to complain about her car not being ready when he continued.
“And I’ve earned every penny.” He lowered his brows—attractively—at her in mock sternness. “Lady, when’s the last time you had your oil changed? The filter was frozen in there.”
Gwen suddenly found herself on the defensive. “I, uh…”
“Since you’ve chosen not to buy American, I needed to borrow a metric tool set, which I didn’t realize I’d need until after I’d drained all the oil out.” He rubbed his index finger against a spot above his eyebrow, leaving a faint smudge that detracted not one whit from his appearance.
“Shame on you, Gwen,” Laurie said snidely.
Gwen glared at her until Laurie remembered they weren’t in competition for Alec’s attention.
“But I’m probably just as bad about car maintenance.” Which was a lie. Laurie was a fanatic about car maintenance because she’d once been stranded in the middle of the night after going to a trendy new club in an iffy area of Houston and never wanted to repeat the experience. However, Gwen understood that Laurie was trying to make up for her earlier comment.
“It was poor planning on my part, I’ll admit. My brother-in-law wouldn’t bring me his tools until halftime. Texas is playing Penn State,” Alec added.
“Oh, yeah,” Gwen said, as though she followed college football. After Eric, she’d had enough of football.
“Like I said, it wasn’t a problem.” Laurie was still hanging around and Gwen guessed she was giving Alec a chance to say something along the lines of “Let me buy you dinner to make it up to you.”
He wouldn’t, Gwen figured. Alec Fleming was starting his own business and currently had no money. Gwen suspected that he might have once had—he’d made a reference or two about working at a family business—but he didn’t have any money now, which was why he’d offered to change her oil instead of Gwen going to the quick oil-change place she usually did.
“So is the car finished?” she asked.
“At last.” He looked skyward.
Hiding her smile, Gwen dug in her shoulder bag. “I am not going to pay you extra.”
“What? No tip?”
“Sure, I’ll give you a tip.” She nodded to his outfit. “Wear warmer clothes when you go outside to play.” She handed him a ten-dollar bill.
“I’m not cold. Besides, they’re all dirty.” He snapped the bill, held it up the light, then kissed it. “Laundry money!”
As they laughed, Gwen glanced at Laurie. Her expression, formerly interested and encouraging, had done a complete one-eighty. Gwen followed her gaze back to Alec and she understood. Instead of an eligible potential boyfriend, Laurie was now seeing him as a good-looking, but broke, mechanic with no ambition and no prospects.
Gwen smiled faintly. Like most women her age, she had one of those in her background and while they were fun, once was enough.
Alec wasn’t anything of the sort and if Laurie asked, Gwen would tell her. Could she help it if Laurie wouldn’t ask?
“Time for me to get going,” Laurie said. “Great meeting you.” She gave a tight nod to Alec. To Gwen, she said, “I’ll call you.”
Gwen noticed that Alec stopped making love to his ten-dollar bill long enough to watch Laurie walk off.
“Nice,” he said, and Laurie hadn’t even put anything extra in her walk.
“Yes.”
“But out of my price range.”
“What do you mean by that?”
At her sharp tone, he turned to her. A second later, realization dawned. “No! Hey—I just meant that a woman like that is high-maintenance and expensive. To stay in the running you’ve got to take her to clubs and restaurants and the bill runs up real quick…and I’m just digging myself deeper into a hole, aren’t I?” He gave her a charmingly rueful grin. Alec had charm to spare and knew it.
“Any deeper and there’ll be an echo.”
He held up both hands, black-creased palms outward. “I meant nothing against your friend.”
“I know. It’s okay.” Gwen agreed with him, anyway, but wouldn’t betray the sisterhood by admitting it.
“And, ah, I didn’t mean that you weren’t worth running up the tab for, either.”
She wished he hadn’t said that. They both knew she wasn’t a Laurie type and honestly, Gwen was all for the Lauries of this world. Why shouldn’t they value themselves enough to require men to make an effort? For all the effort Gwen required, she was a bigger bargain than a Christmas sweater in January. She needed to stop that.
But she didn’t want to have that kind of discussion with Alec, who was still standing there, searching her face for a sign of whether she was mad at him or not. He was a decent, if typically male, sort.
“I’m in a good position to guilt you into a really expensive evening, aren’t I?”
He didn’t smile and Gwen felt a twinge of that same guilt for making him suffer. But just a twinge. “Let me have a moment to savor the feeling….” She drew a deep breath. “I’m done. You’re off the hook.”
He grinned and his whole stance relaxed. “You’re okay, Gwen.” He made a movement and for a second, she thought he was going to give her a punch on the arm, but at the last minute, he swung his hand upward and raked his fingers through his hair. “Hey, you should give your car a spin around the block to make sure it’s running okay. Or I could do it for you,” he added casually.
He probably had errands to run. She really didn’t mind, though she was succumbing to his charm more than she should.
“Would you?” Gwen asked, as though he’d be doing her a huge favor.
“Sure!” He patted his shorts for her keys and dug them out. “I might stop off at the grocery store and get some quarters. Need anything?”
Gwen shook her head.
“Uh—do I look okay? I don’t have a grease moustache, or anything?”
“Just…” She hesitated, then reached up and rubbed at the faint streak on his brow bone. She could feel him watching her and hoped she wouldn’t do anything horridly juvenile like blush.
He had warm brown hair and warm—friendly warm—brown eyes to go with his warm brown body. Okay, so the warm body part was a wild guess based solely on his forehead, but the rest was true. Gwen also had brown hair and eyes, but her hair wasn’t as rich as his since she’d quit streaking it. What was the point? She’d given up men.
