I Waxed My Legs for This? Read online

  Carrie momentarily forgot her annoyance and hid her smile by turning and smacking his back with all her might.

  “Thanks,” Jack gasped.

  “You should be more careful,” Mrs. Richardson. “I knew a woman once...”

  Ten minutes later, when the entire table knew Sophie Garret’s life history—a life that was tragically cut short when she laughed while drinking a soda and choked herself to death—their dinners arrived.

  “Sir, you ordered the shrimp?” the waitress asked and she set the plate in front of Jack when he nodded and then passed out the rest.

  Jack took the first bite and discreetly set a shrimp on Carrie’s plate of fettuccine.

  “Did I ever tell you how fettuccine and shrimp brought Carrie and me together?” he asked the instantly alert Mrs. Richardson.

  Their teacher shook her head. “Carrie did mention it last night, but she didn’t go into any detail.”

  Carrie elbowed him again, but Jack liked Mrs. Richardson’s response better and he started, “Well, she had been dating this guy, Jed.”

  “Ted,” Carrie corrected, taking great delight in biting the shrimp in two.

  “Jed, Ted...anyway, they were out to dinner and he ordered the fettuccine.”

  “Fettuccine?” Mrs. Richardson asked.

  “Fettuccine. You see, Carrie here loves fettuccine, but she also loves shrimp.” So saying he passed her another one.

  Carrie resisted the urge to toss it back into his face. He was annoying and probably deserved it, but she wasn’t someone who would waste a perfectly good shrimp.

  “And Ned—”

  “Ted,” Carrie corrected again.

  “Ted,” Jack agreed. “He ordered fettuccine, just like she did. Well, there was no variety and she realized that she needed something more in a man. Carrie needs a man who knows how to order correctly—a man who can kiss. And, of course the first man she thought of was me. After all we’d ordered enough dinners together and we kissed me in chem class.”

  “It wasn’t a kiss, it was mouth-to-mouth,” Carrie muttered.

  “Well, she knew that I was the one for her.”

  “Oh, Herb, isn’t that the sweetest story you’ve ever heard?” Mrs. Richardson asked.

  She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll never order shrimp or fettuccine again and not feel a flutter in my heart.”

  She turned to Carrie and said, “To think, all that time you’d been dating the wrong men. It was Jack here who turned your litmus paper blue.”

  Even Herb groaned over that one as a poor excuse for a joke. Mrs. Richardson laughed a kind of laugh that didn’t sound at all like the teacher Carrie remembered.

  “Oh, you all liked that?” she asked. “Well, how about—and all those years it was Jack who could make your Bunsen burn.”

  The tension that had Carrie’s back rigid disappeared and she found herself laughing with the rest of their group through the main course and dessert.

  After they said goodnight, Mrs. Richardson hugged each of them each in turn. “Now, when those wedding bells chime, Herb and I will expect our invitation. Remember, I’m a chemistry teacher and I know a chemical reaction when I see it. The two of you are almost combustible.”

  Herb just winked at both of them, wrapped his arm around his wife as the couple walked down the hall.

  “Well,” Jack said.

  “Yes, well,” Carrie echoed as they started toward their own room. “Do you remember her being quite so...” She searched for a word. “Ah, funny?”

  “As I recall, the most exciting part of the whole class was when you and I had our kiss.”

  “It was mouth-to-mouth,” Carrie said.

  Jack just continued talking right over her. “The rest of it was a bit dry.”

  His arm slipped over her shoulders again.

  Carrie tried to shrug out of it, but he held tight. “Jack, I think it’s best if we keep our distance.”

  “I’m sure you do.” His voice sounded anything but distant.

  “I mean, we’re friends. We’ve been friends for years and I’d hate to jeopardize that.” She tried to quicken her pace. If she could beat him to the room she could be safely locked in the bathroom, pruning her skin in the bathtub, before he caught up.

  Jack matched his pace to hers. “I’d never want to lose your friendship.”

  “Then we’re agreed.” She sighed her relief.

  He was going to be reasonable after all.

  “Agreed,” he said, hugging her closer to him.

  Her smile slipped. He wasn’t acting like her old friend.

  “Jack,” she warned. “You just agreed we’d be friends.”

  “Oh, I’m feeling very friendly.” His hand rained feather light caresses on her upper arm and she felt her resolve slip. He must have opened their door because she was suddenly safely inside the room.

  He leaned over and kissed her neck.

  “We can’t do this,” she managed to say.

  “Oh, but we can.”

  “What if—”

  He interrupted. “What if we find that Mrs. Richardson is right? That we have a chemical reaction? What if we find that we were meant to be more than friends? I let you have last night and today to think about it. I was hoping you’d notice that there’s something special here.”

  “What if we find that we weren’t meant to be more than friends? You’re on the rebound. After all those years with Sandy, you don’t know what you want.” She pushed against him, needing some distance.

  Jack allowed her to push him back, but not far enough. His voice was soft. “Rebound? It’s been months, almost a year. I’m over Sandy. Truth be told, I was over her long before we split up.”

  Carrie shook her head. “You hold everything inside. You always have. There hasn’t been anyone since she left. If you were over her, there would have been.”

  “Rebound. You think that’s all you’d be? Just a rebound relationship?”

  “I think there’s a chance—a very good one— that we’d end up hating each other. And then I’d lose the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  “I always thought you were the bravest woman I knew. The reason you’re always in those scrapes you get yourself into is that you’re not afraid to try something new. Of course, it doesn’t always work out and you run the risk of having a problem. But you try. Are you telling me that you’re just going to let this thing that’s growing between us die without giving it a chance?”

  His hands were still on her shoulders and the sensation was just too much. Carrie wanted to embrace him and forget about being reasonable. She wanted to forget about all her doubts and all the reasons why they should wait.

  Did he really see her as brave, as someone who takes chances?

  Carrie had always secretly been afraid that Jack had seen her as a flake. The thought that he saw her as something more than she’d ever seen herself was new and almost as terrifying as risking her friendship with Jack.

  He couldn’t be over Sandy already. She’d meant the world to him.

  They were all valid concerns, but they all boiled down to one overwhelming obstacle.

  “I am afraid,” she admitted.

  No longer content with distance, he pulled her into his arms. “So am I. Despite all the men you’ve dated and—”

  “Sandy,” she said, voicing the one wedge that stood between them.

  “She isn’t here in any way. None of your exes are either. It’s just you and me.”

  Carrie stared at him, wanting to believe him, but not quite able to make herself do it.

  “You’re the longest lasting relationship I’ve ever had.”

  “Because we’re friends, not lovers,” Carrie maintained stubbornly.

  “Maybe, or maybe we have something that’s meant to withstand time. Maybe what we have isn’t just friendship. Maybe it’s—”

  “Stop,” she practically screamed. She didn’t want to hear him say words that would move this physical attraction to a new lev
el. If he said them they’d always hang there between them. She pushed against him again, but this time he didn’t give an inch. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.” She gave one more shove and he let go.

  “Am I?” he asked.

  She turned and looked anywhere but at him.

  Her heart was racing.

  Maybe she was having a heart attack. That would serve him right, backing her into a comer like this. Saying she was brave and saying that there was something between them.

  She stood a minute and willed her racing heart to beat faster. Jack would have to rush her to the hospital and, in the confusion would forget all about this nonsense between them. When her heart didn’t oblige her, she retreated to her last resort.

  Anger.

  “Who do you think you are?” she asked, turning back to him.

  “I waited years for you to notice me, but you never did. I kissed boys, practicing to make myself what you wanted. But, you fell for pom-pom perfect Patti, who was followed by others, and that’s all there was. Any chance I ever had of making you see me as a woman disappeared in their shadows. Now, after all these years, after we’ve built a terrific friendship and know where we stand with each other, now you think you can just change the rules?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. Like a yo-yo, she was back in his arms. This time he held on like he’d never let go and his lips moved forward to seal her fate.

  Carrie had kissed boys in high school when she was practicing for Jack and she’d kissed men since, but nothing had ever prepared her for what was happening between them.

  “Jack,” she gasped, though she had no idea what she wanted to say.

  “Yes or no, Carrie?”

  Chapter Six

  HE WANTED HER.

  Not loved her.

  Moments ago she’d been terrified of hearing him say he loved her, but now the tiny section of Carrie’s heart that had always held out some hope wilted. She should say no. He still loved Sandy. He was just turning to her on the rebound.

  She shouldn’t take the chance of losing a friend over a physical urge.

  Her head knew that, but her body wasn’t paying any attention and neither was that broken piece of her heart. If she couldn’t have his love, maybe she could settle for his body?

  He liked her, maybe even loved her like a friend. And he wanted her. Maybe it could be enough? Maybe she should take a chance.

  “Yes or no, Carrie.”

  Yes or no?

  Carrie didn’t know which way to answer until she heard herself say, “Yes.”

  She loved him. She said the words to herself, unwilling to burden Jack with them.

  He wanted her. It might be enough. She repeated the phrases over and over in her mind.

  Jack groaned and scooped her up in his arms.

  “I can walk,” she said, forcing a laugh.

  Jack looked into her eyes with such a hunger that Carrie shuddered. “I don’t want to take a chance of your getting away. I need you tonight, Carrie.”

  Tonight.

  Ever the lawyer, Jack had qualified his actions, making his intent clear.

  She could still say no, Carrie thought as Jack laid her almost reverently in the center of the bed.

  She wanted him, too.

  She tried to speak and tell him so, but couldn’t seem to get any words out.

  Her best friend.

  She faced the truth once and for all. She couldn’t say no.

  Jack had been her best friend for years and now he was going to be more than a friend. She remembered his qualification—for tonight.

  It was enough.

  It had to be.

  ~~~

  She woke the next morning to find Jack wheeling a food cart toward her.

  “You have permission to get up and use the facilities,” he said with a smile. “But that’s it. We’re going to see if two people really can spend a day in bed. I’ve never quite managed it, have you?”

  Carrie rubbed her sleepy eyes.

  Jack was standing there, smiling and joking even. Who was this man?

  And where had he hidden the real Jack Templeton?

  “Let me just...” She blushed and settled for, “I’ll be right back.”

  Carrie wrapped the sheet around herself, dashed to the bathroom and shut the door. She leaned against it for a moment, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. What had she done and what did Jack’s reaction mean?

  She stared at the woman in the mirror and didn’t recognize her.

  “Carrie, are you going to stay in there all day?” Jack called.

  Oh, if only she could.

  Quickly she took care of her morning needs and hurried out the door. “Jack, we have to talk.”

  He just shook his head and pulled her back into bed.

  “Not this morning we don’t. I said we were going to see if we could spend an entire day in bed. There was no mention of talk, at least not the serious sort. We’ll save that sort of talk until tomorrow.”

  “If we can’t talk, what do you plan on doing all day?” she asked.

  He winked at her.

  “Really? All day?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Oh, we may need a break from time to time, but yes. If last night was any indication, I think we can do it all day and all night.”

  “Jack, really, we have to talk.”

  “Later,” he whispered. “I’m so hungry.”

  Deciding she’d earned her reprieve, Carrie asked, “What did you order for breakfast?”

  “You.” He began unwrapping the sheet like a little boy unwrapping a Christmas present.

  “Jack, we can’t...I mean, we haven’t eaten breakfast even. It will get cold.”

  “I just ordered bagels and fruit. Waiting won’t spoil it, but waiting might kill me. I need you.”

  There were only three words in the English language that could have lessened Carrie’s resistance any quicker.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “That’s all I want to hear today. Yes, Jack. Oh, yes will do as well.” He chuckled and ran his fingers down her back.

  “All I’m supposed to say is yes?” she asked. “You think that might really happen?”

  “A man can hope.”

  ~~~

  “You don’t need to look so smug,” Carrie said between a huge bite of her hamburger later that afternoon.

  “Smug isn’t the word I’d use,” Jack said, grinning as he watched her inhale the sandwich.

  A birdlike appetite had never been one of Carrie’s vices.

  Jack was finding himself extremely thankful of the fact that her appetites so aptly matched his own.

  He’d made some headway at tearing down the walls of her doubt.

  Soon she’d admit that they were meant for each other.

  “What word would you use?” She slurped her strawberry shake.

  “Well, let’s see. I’m sitting here with my lady eating lunch at a romantic resort. When we’re done, I plan to see if I can make love to her again...”

  “You can’t...I mean, it’s physically impossible for a man your age to keep up this pace.”

  “My age?” he asked.

  Nodding, she shoved a fry into her mouth.

  It shouldn’t have looked sensuous—it was a French fry after all—but Jack knew that physically impossible wasn’t a phrase his body would acknowledge. In fact it seemed bound and determined to prove that with Carrie there were no limits.

  “My age?” he asked again.

  “Well, Jack, let’s face it you’re not getting any younger. I read somewhere that men reached their physical peak somewhere in their late teens or early twenties. So, you’re well past that. And—given the fact that you lead a rather sedentary, lawyerish sort of life—I’m afraid you might permanently damage something if you try again.”

  “I would not.” He was torn between indignation and delight.

  This was his Carrie.

  Here was the person who had always kept him on his toes, chal
lenged him and thwarted him in turn.

  He’d never met any woman like her.

  He had to be the dumbest guy on earth not to have noticed what he had before this trip.

  Well, he might be dumb, but he wasn’t dumb enough to let her slip through his fingers now that he’d noticed her as his perfect match.

  “Are you finished with your lunch?” he asked, smiling.

  It was the smile that made Carrie nervous.

  When Jack smiled like that she was reminded that he was a lawyer, a modern day hunter going after his quarry.

  This time his quarry wasn’t a witness on the stand or some obscure phrase in a contract. No this time he was after her.

  “No, I don’t believe I am finished with my lunch yet,” she said.

  “Uh, uh, uh. I thought we agreed that yes was the word you were using today, not no.”

  “But I’m not through,” she said, hoping to keep her hamburger, fries and shake between them.

  “Let me rephrase the question. Carrie, do you truly believe I’m past my sexual prime?”

  She giggled and said, “Yes.”

  At his look of outrage, she said, “You told me that was the only answer I was allowed to give. Other than oh, yes.”

  She nodded. “And you know, they say women hit their peak in their mid-thirties,” she hedged, popping another fry into her mouth, even though she’d suddenly lost the taste for them. “That means I’m on the upswing, while you’re definitely on the downward end of things.”

  “Well, the studies were right about women, but I think, if they’d tested men who were sharing a bed with the delectable Carrington Rose, they might have gotten different results, no matter what the age of their test subjects.”

  He lunged across the bed and pushed her food to the floor even as he pinned her to the mattress. “Let’s just see if you can remember what word you’re supposed to be using as I try to prove to you that men of my considerable age have as much staying power as boys in their teens.”

  “Yes,” she murmured a half hour later.

  “Your Honor, I rest my case,” Jack said, a hint of laughter mingling with desire.

  Happy.

  No, that seemed to mild a word.