After another hour, and some serious elbow grease, my feet and hands were scrubbed and polished, and my nails were a delicate pink.
I felt rejuvenated, and pretty, for the first time in well over a year.
I heard a sharp whistle, and turned to see Ginger grinning at me from the doorway. She’d been in the back getting washed for her cut, when Neecey had finished with me and hustled me off to get my mani/pedi done, so she hadn’t seen the final product. Judging from the wicked grin on her face, I’d say she liked the new me almost as much as I did.
“Look at you!” she exclaimed as she walked in a circle around me. “I love it!”
“Me too,” I gushed, then took her appearance in and gasped. “You look gorgeous.”
And she did. She had long bangs, and layers, fringing and framing her face, and her red hair flowed straight as a blade down to the middle of her back.
Ginger blushed at my compliment and brought a hand up to touch the ends of her hair.
“Thanks. You ready?”
She’d had her nails done first, so we were both made up and made over. Next we were heading to pick out some new outfits for tonight. I still wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to go through with Ginger’s plans for me tonight, but I was looking forward to having drinks in an honest-to-goodness country bar. It had been way too long since I’d been dancing and surrounded by cowboys.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I replied as I gathered my things and went to the front counter to pay.
Money wasn’t an issue for me anymore. I wasn’t a millionaire by any means, but the insurance payouts that came after Ricky died ensured I’d never have to work again if I didn’t want to. I doubted that I’d be able to live without working, or having something to fill my days, but at least it was one thing in my life that I didn’t have to stress over.
We left the car parked and walked a few blocks to the shop Ginger wanted to take me to. I was laughing at something Ginger said, my head down as I followed her in, so I didn’t notice that she’d stopped and I barreled right into her.
“Whoa, what…?” I stuttered out as I held on to her shoulder to keep from toppling over. I brought my head up and peered around her to see what had caused our abrupt halt, and my mouth dropped at the gorgeous man standing two feet in front of us.
His hair was so dark, I couldn’t tell if it was brown or black. He wore it longer than was conventional, with the dark tips brushing the top of his shoulders. His dark eyes were rapt on Ginger’s face, but his expression was unreadable. He was tall. Really tall, towering over the two of us by a good foot.
I heard a throat clear, and belatedly noticed a statuesque blonde standing next to him, her arm hooked in his. Her expression was very readable; it said, “Hands off, this one is mine.”
“Bo,” Ginger stated, causing my eyes to snap back from the blonde to reevaluate Ginger’s ex.
The throat clearing became more demanding, and brought Bo out of his stupor. “Oh, uh, hey, Ginger … This is Candy. Candy, Ginger.”
“Hey,” Candy said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetener.
I stepped up next to Ginger and put a supportive hand on her arm. I saw her blink rapidly, then let the tension slowly ease out of her as she responded, “Nice to meet you. Bo, this is my friend, Belle.”
“Hi,” I said, bringing my free hand up to give Bo a little finger wave. I have no idea why, it just seemed like a good idea at the time.
“Hi, Belle, you from Vegas?” Bo asked, acknowledging me with a friendly smile.
“Just passing through, really,” I replied vaguely. Luckily, he seemed to only ask to be polite. He nodded at my answer, then turned his attention back to Ginger.
They stared awkwardly at a few more seconds, then Candy must have gotten tired of it, because she complained, “I’ve got to go, Bo.”
Bo nodded wordlessly and allowed his girlfriend to pull him around us toward the exit. “See you later,” he called over his shoulder with one last long look at Ginger.
“Later,” she whispered as we watched the door shut behind them.
“Are you okay?” I asked, searching her face for signs of an impending breakdown.
“Candy,” she muttered with a frown. “Her name is Candy.”
“Of course it is,” I replied with a smirk. “Now forget about them. We’ll find the perfect clothes to go with our fabulous new hair, and when the guys get a load of you tonight, those two will be nothing but a memory. Okay?”
“Okay!” Ginger answered, and I was happy to see her face brighten at the prospect of shopping and our night ahead.
“Let’s get to it, then,” I cajoled, and pulled her toward a rack of short, sexy dresses in the back of the shop.
Chapter 11
Ginger must have caught me at a weak moment, because I couldn’t believe that I was actually wearing this dress out in public.
The quintessential Little Black Dress, it was short, sexy, and revealed much more than I was used to. It wasn’t quite as va-va-va-voom as Ginger’s LBD, but it was pretty hot for a widowed woman in her thirties, at least in my mind.
“Are you sure I look all right?” I asked Ginger for the umpteenth time as I tried to pull the skirt down to at least somewhere in the vicinity of my knees.
“Sugar, you are smokin’!” Ginger assured me with a saucy grin as she swung her full, wavy hair over her shoulder and walked into the crowded bar.
I was immediately cloaked with the sounds of acoustic guitar and a sweet, tangy voice, which brought an automatic smile to my lips. I looked around the bar as we navigated through the sea of people, and noticed that Ginger and I looked quite a bit overdressed.
“Um, Ginger,” I muttered in her ear as she leaned up against the bar. “I think we overdid it…”
Ginger turned to me with a wink and replied, “Just wait and see…”
She ordered our drinks from a bartender dressed in wrangler jeans and snap-up flannel shirt, and the cutest cowgirl boots I’ve ever seen. A couple minutes later, when a Long Island was placed in front of me, I felt a moment of surprise that Ginger had ordered without asking me. Then I realized we’d been together for five days, and in that time I’d been pretty predictable with my drink order.
“Thanks,” I said, unsure how I should feel about the drink, but grateful to have it.
“Sure thing, Belle. I see Jean over there with some of her friends, let’s go over.” Ginger gestured to a large half-circle booth in the corner, where I noticed Jean’s blonde head swaying to the music.
I simply nodded, then let Ginger lead the way.
A few hours, about three drinks, and about four line dances later, I was feeling great. I hadn’t danced and laughed so hard in ages, and I was having a blast with Ginger, her sister, and their friends.
I was just coming back to the table after two-stepping with a sexy young man named Landon, when Ginger took me by the hand and pulled me through the crush of people to the bathroom.
“Landon is perfect!” she squeed, not caring that there were a gaggle of women in the restroom waiting for a turn.
“He’s definitely hot,” I agreed, then asked, mildly confused, “Perfect for what?”
“To take you home tonight and give you a fabulous orgasm!”
I was pretty buzzed, but not so far gone that I didn’t look around at the giggling crowd with embarrassment.
“What? He’s way too young for me.”
“He’s around my age,” Ginger protested. “I think he was a year behind me in school, which makes him twenty-five. He’s sexy, single, and has been looking at you like you’re a rare steak and he’s king of the jungle.”
“No he has not … And that makes him seven years younger than me. He’s practically a teenager,” I argued, leaning back against the wall so I don’t fall over.
“Pshaw,” she replied, slurring her unintelligible words. “He’s so not a teenager. That man will make you see stars … I’ve heard good things.”
“Oh my God! You’
re crazy,” I said, then pushed of the wall and ran out of the bathroom and away from the knowing glances coming from the peanut gallery.
“Hey, babe,” Landon said as I stepped out into the open bar. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, things are great,” I said, suddenly nervous in his presence.
I looked him over as if with new eyes, and was surprised to feel my body respond as I drew my gaze up the long, young, toned length of his body, stopping to grin at his full lips.
“I was just telling her that she should go home with you tonight,” Ginger announced, coming up from behind me and swinging an arm around my shoulder as she grinned up into Landon’s surprised face.
His expression quickly turned from surprised to cocky as he tipped the rim of his cowboy hat to me and said smoothly, “You definitely should.”
I was momentarily dazed by the deep tenor of his voice, which I felt all the way down in the bottom of my belly.
Oh my, I thought. But what I said was, “I’m too old…”
The corner of Landon’s lips turned up and he replied, “You’re gorgeous.”
I let the compliment wash over me, cleansing some of the wounds that had been open since Ricky’s death. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering going home with this guy, but I really was.
“How about I grab us a drink and we can figure out what you want to do next,” Landon offered.
I gave him a slight nod, unable to find my voice, and turned to watch him walk away. His backside was fantastic.
“I met trouble, the day I met you,” I said to Ginger once my tongue dislodged from the back of my throat.
“Sug, I was the best thing to happen to you in years,” she countered, then pulled me in for a hug, and I had to admit, she was probably right.
I was about to say the same to her when we were suddenly interrupted by a very handsome, very angry, Bo.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” Bo demanded, causing Ginger and I to jump apart and look at him with startled expressions.
“What?” Ginger managed, her voice coming out as a squeak.
“Tell me you aren’t a stripper,” he spat.
I saw Ginger’s eyes go wide, then narrow. Her back straightened and she crossed her hands over her chest, thrusting her hip out, as her voice went icy.
“Why does it matter?”
Bo ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, his frustration evident.
“Candy said she heard from Nancy, who heard from Cheryl, who heard from Jean, that you’ve been stripping since I left Vegas … Tell me it isn’t true!” he shouted, this time causing the people standing around us to stop and turn our way.
Ginger’s body went rigid as she responded, her voice low and dangerous, “How dare you … You have the balls to come up on me, make a scene, and judge me for things I had to do after you took me to Vegas to chase a pipe dream, then bailed on me a few short days later? Seriously? What I do, or did, is no longer your business. You made sure of that. And you have no right to try and make me feel ashamed for what I’ve had to do to make ends meet.”
Bo’s posture softened as some of the anger seemed to leave him, and his voice was quieter when he argued, “You didn’t have to do anything … You could have come home.”
“Fuck you,” was Ginger’s response, before she whirled past him, stormed through the bar, and left with the door slamming behind her.
“You’re an asshole,” I told Bo after he turned his attention away from the exit.
“Seriously, not cool, bro,” Landon agreed as he came up behind me.
Bo’s eyes flickered from my face to Landon’s, then he turned swiftly and followed Ginger out the door.
“Do you think she’s okay?” I asked Landon after Bo was out of sight.
“Yeah, she’ll be fine. There are always fireworks when those two get together,” her sister, Jean said from behind us.
“Yeah?’
“Yeah. I’ll head home and make sure. Why don’t you guys stay here and have fun. You can give her a call, or shoot her a text later. I’ll take care of her, promise.”
“Okay,” I responded. I turned and let my eyes travel up Landon’s lean body, stopping at his full lips. I licked mine in anticipation and suggested, “Maybe I’ll call her on the way to your place.”
Taking my request in stride, Landon set our fresh drinks on the closest table and began to usher me out the door. I’m not sure if he was moving so quickly because he was excited that I’d agreed to go home with him, or if he was trying to get me in the car before I changed my mind, but when he took my hand and started running toward the exit, my laughter followed us out of the bar and into the night.
Chapter 12
I woke up slowly, gingerly turning my head so as not to disturb the ache that was brewing, and was momentarily confused about where I was … Then my eyes landed on Landon’s chiseled jaw, and the night came back to me like a bolt of lightening.
God, the sex had been hot. Never underestimate the stamina of a twenty-five-year-old man with the utmost confidence in his ability to please a woman.
I’d called Ginger on our way and offered to have Landon take me back to her place, but she said she was with her sister, and they were fine. She told me to go have fun. After I hung up, nerves hit me, and when I began to think about Ricky, I started to have doubts. Then Landon reached his hand out and placed it on my leg. He asked if I was okay, and if I’d rather him take me home. I wouldn’t say I was drunk, but I was definitely feeling loose and in tune with the needs of my body. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed human touch until I was in the passenger seat, and the simple act of his hand caressing my bare thigh had turned my libido on full-blast. I turned off my thoughts and just allowed myself to feel. I didn’t want to go back to Ginger’s, and I told him so.
I grew heated just thinking about the things we’d done.
I’m not ashamed to say that as soon as we walked into his bedroom in the three-bedroom apartment that he shared with friends, I attacked him. He’d barely shut the door when I pushed him up against it, put one hand in his hair, the other on his hip, and fused my mouth to his. It was wild … primal even.
We’d done it against the wall, doggy-style, and finally in the missionary position, and I’d come every time. The only thing I couldn’t do was oral sex. When Landon had started to kiss his way down my stomach and I’d realized his intent, I stopped him. That was something I’d only ever shared with Ricky, and it seemed too intimate to share with a one-night stand.
Sure, I realized that sex itself was intimate, but I was just after a physical connection, and a release … Landon had taken my deflection with ease, and proceeded to rock my world in other ways.
My body felt so deliciously spent, I would gladly sleep for another twelve hours. Unfortunately, I had to get back to Ginger’s and then get on the road. My mother and sister-in-law were expecting me in Shreveport for dinner, and the clock by Landon’s double-size bed said that it was already after one in the afternoon.
I curled up, trying not to wake Landon as I peered around the room for my clothes. Being naked in the heat of the moment was one thing, but there was no way I was going to prance around the room naked in the cold light of day. I was already cognizant of the fact that Landon obviously put a lot of effort into keeping his body toned and gaspingly perfect, and that the only exercise my much-older body saw was the movement from my couch to the fridge while I binge-watched Gilmore Girls … I didn’t want him to be hit with that fact the second he opened his eyes.
I saw my dress hanging from his bedroom doorknob and bit back a groan. That was about six feet away. I was going to have to get out of bed to get it.
I stuck a foot out and lowered my leg, but instead of hitting carpet, my toe touched what felt like cotton. I leaned over the side and saw a black T-shirt laying on the ground.
Score!
I reached my hand out and snatched it up, throwing it over my head to hide my nakedness. I was instantly assaulte
d by the heady scent of Landon’s cologne and rethought my decision to leave right this second.
I took another whiff of cologne, glanced over to see the beauty of Landon’s face one more time, and saw him watching me intently … So I shot him a saucy grin and jumped him. One more time … for the road.
An hour later I was whistling through smiling lips as I pulled in front of Ginger’s mother’s trailer. Landon and I had parted with a kiss, and my undying gratitude. I needed to grab my stuff, say goodbye to my friend, and head out to Louisiana.
Ginger was walking toward me as I shut my door. Her face was devoid of makeup, and her eyes were puffy from crying. She looked about twelve years old.
“Oh, honey, are you okay?” I asked as I rushed around the car to pull her into a hug.
“Mmm-kay,” she mumbled against my shoulder.
“What happened after you left?”
“Bo followed me back here and we had it out,” she replied, her eyes bright with fresh tears. “I told him everything. How he made me feel, what I did after he left, and what I’ve been doing since … He left at about three a.m., still mad, and I haven’t heard from him.”
“Why is he making a big deal about this now?” I asked, wondering if Bo still had feelings for Ginger.
She shrugged one shoulder and said, “I guess because Candy just told him. He said he was embarrassed and ashamed for me…”
“What an ass,” I replied angrily. “Ginger, you have nothing to be ashamed about, and he has no right to treat you as if you do. He left you a long time ago, and has no say in what you do with your life.”
Ginger choked back a sob, but her voice cracked when she said, “I know … Logically, I know that. But, it really hurts that he thinks of me that way.”
“I know it does,” I said helplessly. I knew there was nothing I could say to make her feel better, but I really wished I had Bo’s stupid mug in front of me right now, so I could punch him right in the balls.
We went inside and I grabbed my stuff. I felt terrible leaving Ginger when she needed me, but I knew my in-laws were waiting, and I didn’t want to be late.