Can't Help Falling In Love. Wendy Etherington
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“I hope so,” Monica said, but she didn’t sound too certain.
“Chaud, chère,” a familiar male voice called from behind them.
Gasping, Skyler whirled.
“Hot, hot, hot,” Jack Tesson said, strolling boldly into the room.
Skyler blinked, hardly able to believe her eyes. The man had the worst timing of anyone on the planet. And why hadn’t her door alarm gone off?
Some inner protective instinct finally asserted itself. Move! it yelled. Cover this up quick, or the town council will know your dirty little secret by noon, and you’ll be out on your backside—leather, lace and all.
She grabbed Monica by the arm. “Let me handle this,” she muttered.
“Can I watch?” Monica asked, then laughed.
Skyler didn’t see anything to laugh about. She tugged her friend to a dressing stall, shoving the pink velvet curtain closed.
“Out,” she said, pointing at Jack as he hovered in the doorway.
He leaned one exceptional shoulder against the frame. “Oh, I like the view from here.”
From behind the curtain, Monica giggled.
Skyler seethed.
Jack held up his hand. “I’m leaving.” He backed from the room, pulling the door, though before the latch clicked shut, he stuck his head back inside. “I’m just dyin’ to find out about this special order, ’tite ange.” The door shut.
“Ooohhh.” Skyler stamped her foot. “That man! My life was perfectly normal until he got here.”
Monica shoved the curtain aside. “Your life wasn’t normal, babe, it was boring. There’s a difference.”
Staring at the door, Skyler bit her lip. What did he think? What would he say? Was there any possibility of bluffing her way out of this disaster?
“Well, go on,” Monica said as she pulled her clothes on over the merry widow. “I’ll go out the back while you handle him.” She grinned. “And I know just which parts of him I’d handle.”
“I need a plan, not sex.”
Monica just blinked.
“Even if I did want, think about, or ever consider sex with a man like him”—whose idea of work is battling through fire-engulfed houses, combating floods and contagious diseases and probably leaping over tall buildings in a single bound— “I’d have to sneak around my brothers to do it.”
Monica danced on one foot as she slipped off one four-inch stiletto heel. “So? You sneak around them anyway with the lingerie.” Shoving the shoes in her purse, she slid her feet into sandals—with only a three-inch heel. “Besides, I’m hoping to have one brother completely occupied—at least the moment he gets back from the law enforcement convention.”
Skyler started for the door. “That just leaves two.”
In the hall, leaning against the wall, lounged Jack Tesson, looking as if he planned to hang out all day.
Avoiding him, Skyler let Monica out the back door, then, stalling further in the desperate hope a brilliant explanation would occur to her, she locked the front door and flipped over the Closed sign. By the time she reached the counter, her hands had stopped shaking, and she was pretty sure her voice would sound normal. Bluff, bluff, then lie and bluff some more seemed the most prudent escape. She couldn’t lose her shop.
Jack had moved to sit on the counter, his long legs dangling just inches off the floor. “You got some great merchandise, chère.” He grinned. “Any more of those black things…” his gaze traveled the length of her “…in a bit smaller size?”
Heat stole through her body. The shaking started again, this time in her stomach. “Uh, no. A one-time-only order for a friend.”
“Right. What about the fancy dressin’ room?”
“It came with the building.”
“Come on, chère. I saw the boxes. Had to be at least four of ’em shoved against the wall.” He lifted one black eyebrow. “Bud’s Leather Palace? Lickable Lacies?”
Leather and edible underwear. Skyler let her head drop back. She was caught.
4
“YOU GOT A little business goin’ on the side, chère?” Jack grinned like the scoundrel Skyler had no doubt he was. “Don’t bother me. A little shadiness develops character. My grand-père sure didn’t get through Prohibition by sellin’ Coca-Cola.”
Skyler planted her hands on her hips. “There is absolutely nothing shady about my business.”
He winked. “Right.”
She crossed to the front door, eyeing the new “alarm” with disgust. She’d only been half paying attention as she installed the blasted thing the night before, since she’d been focused on listening to the emergency scanner to keep tabs on her brothers’ calls. “If you have to know the story behind my shop, the town council wouldn’t give me a business license for lingerie, so I decided to expand my inventory. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
Jack slid off the counter, then he walked toward her. “But I’m thinkin’ you didn’t tell the council you were…expandin’ your inventory.”
Determined to avoid the laughing challenge in his whiskey-colored eyes, Skyler ignored his insinuation and experimentally opened the door. Ding-dong sang the chimes. She sighed in disgust.
Jack leaned down and laid his finger beneath her chin, lifting her face. “Does the council know about your little back room?”
She bit her lip. “No.”
“Who does know?”
“Other than me and my customers, you mean?”
“Other than them.”
He really did have the most lovely, expressive eyes. Being a big, macho fireman, he probably wouldn’t appreciate that comment, though, so she kept the thought to herself. If she pouted and batted her eyes, as she’d seen Monica do a million times to get a man’s attention, would he forget all this shop business and kiss her?
“Skyler…” he prompted in a low, determined tone.
“Well, uh, let me think.” She pretended to ponder the question. Just how would he use the information he now possessed? He was a hero, so he was honorable. Hadn’t he protected her at the bar? There was no reason to think he’d betray her now. Finally, she said, “You.”
“Me, what?”
“Other than me and my customers, you’re the only person who knows about the back room. In fact, you and Roland are the only men who know.”
A look of startled wonder crossed his face, quickly there, then gone. “Why Roland?”
She grinned, thinking of the black mask, cape and leather thong underwear she’d ordered recently for Roland. He liked to play Zorro. “He’s a customer,” she said simply.
“Why no one else?” he asked.
He meant her family. Monica had asked the same thing many times. But then Monica was bold and sometimes even controversial. Skyler liked peace. “They’d try to talk me out of it, or—”
“Accidentally blabber about it to the town council.”
She also really liked not having to spell out everything to him. Deadbeat Boyfriend #1 had really been slow on the uptake. “Exactly.”
“I’ll keep your secret,” he said, shrugging.