Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick #4)(39)

“Um, hate to tell you this, hon,” May broke into the Check Out Jules Fest, “but you got fifteen minutes to get dressed and get this place cleaned up or he’ll be here and see your posse givin’ you the works.”

“Holy crap!” Indy shouted. “Unplug the curling iron,” she ordered no one and everyone.

“Get me that cosmetic bag,” Jet snapped her fingers at Stevie. “Now!”

Roxie pulled me out of my chair. “Let’s get you dressed.”

Then she shoved a pile of clothes in my arms and pushed me toward the bathroom.

I walked into the bathroom with my pile. They’d even picked out my underwear and on top was a new bottle of perfume that Roxie stopped by the mall and bought me on the way over.

I bought some sexy underwear as a side obsession to my sexy nightwear since they sold the stuff in the same department. I didn’t have much but they’d found the sexiest, a pair of black, lacy, Brazilian-cut panties and matching demi-cupped bra. Over this I put on a pair of Roxie’s black slacks which looked normal until they were on. They rode way low, even lower than my cords and jeans, exposing the small of my back in a serious way when I bent even slightly. They had a straight front and wide leg. On top of this they gave me Indy’s plain black t-shirt. Again, it looked normal until I put it on. It was stretchy with a hint of spandex and fit like a glove. It came down over the waistband of the trousers but again if I sat the trousers went down, the shirt rode up and the small of my back was exposed.

“Shit,” I whispered, the butterflies exploding and I sat on the toilet seat to put on the high-heeled shoes which had a half an inch platform sole, peek-a-boo toe and ankle strap.

I spritzed with the cologne and put on Roxie’s jewelry, a wide silver cuff bracelet and some wide silver hooped earrings.

Then I looked in the full-length mirror on the back of my bathroom door.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

I looked like a girl. My hair was in curls, not masses of them but subtle and pretty. My eyes were done up smoky and, even I had to admit, sexy. And the outfit was simple but kick-f*cking-ass.

Especially the shoes (which were Tod’s).

I took a deep breath, opened the door and walked down the hall. The place was cleaned up and tidy. All paraphernalia had already been loaded in cars and there was not a margarita glass in sight.

Everyone looked at me when I walked in and they stared.

Then they smiled.

And I felt for the first time all day that maybe I could pull this off.

“Told you she didn’t need sparkle,” Indy said to Daisy.

“Sugar, you got that right,” Daisy replied.

“Hon,” May said, smiling at me, “don’t you worry about gettin’ laid. Trust me. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

* * * * *

Ten minutes later everyone was gone, giving out hugs, air kisses and well wishes for a successful cherry popping as they went.

Before she left May hugged me tight and looked me deep in the eye and whispered, “Nothin’ to worry about.”

Even with May’s encouragement I’d just sucked down a shot of tequila, winced as it hit my throat and decided, again, that there was no way I was going to pull this off.

I shoved the tequila bottle to the back of the counter behind the margarita glasses that someone had washed and were resting upside down on a kitchen towel. I put the shot glass in the sink and was wondering if they had any redeye flights from Denver International Airport to Nicaragua when my backdoor opened and Vance walked in.

I stared at him. He stared at me.

I was pretty certain I was looking at him like a deer caught in headlights.

He wasn’t looking at me that way. He was looking at me in an entirely different way. A way that made the butterflies come back, this time the good ones seemed to be at war with the bad ones and it was up in the air which ones would win.

He hadn’t changed clothes which was one for the side of the bad butterflies. I worried that I looked like I was trying too hard.

Finally I said, “Both doors were locked, how did you get in?”

He started walking toward me but didn’t answer.

I was right by the counter. I backed up a step and my h*ps ran into it.

“You don’t have to break in, you know. You could knock on the front door like a normal person,” I told him as he arrived at me.

I thought he’d stop but he didn’t, not until he got into my space, way into my space. So into my space I could feel the heat from his body and he leaned into me, putting his hands on the counter on either side of me.

I leaned back and tilted my head to look up at him. “Hello? Crowe? Are you in the room?”

“Shut up,” he said and I blinked then my eyes narrowed.

“What did you just say?”

Then his head dropped, his mouth hit mine and he kissed me. He didn’t touch me, not with his body or his hands though I was acutely aware of the position of both.

No, he touched me only with his mouth and kept me locked to him there using his macho man tractor beam in cahoots with his talented tongue and the good butterflies got an advantage.

His head moved away an inch and he murmured, “Tequila.”

Fuck.

Sucking face with a recovering alcoholic after a shot of some serious spirits was probably not a good thing.

“Crowe –” I said.