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  "I see something … something enormous. There!" She grabbed his erect penis. "Got it!"

  "Ah, yes, but do you recognize this large object you've found, my dear?"

  "It does feel sort of familiar." She fumbled around some more and cupped his balls in her other hand. "I think all this goes together."

  "Good guess."

  She fondled him some more, keeping her eyes unfocused. "This part feels like something I've touched before… Sam, is that you?"

  "Yeah, it's me, you faker." Laughing, he rolled her to her back. "And I love the color of your eyes."

  "You're just saying that." But she was smiling, as if she liked hearing the compliment. "After all this hoopla, you wouldn't dare say anything different."

  "Your eyes are the color of clouds before a rain."

  "And dishwater before it drains."

  He leaned down and kissed her. "Be quiet. We're going to have sex, now."

  "I hope you can find the condoms, because I can't even see the box."

  "Leave everything to me."

  "All righty, then."

  And she did leave everything to him. Maybe she sensed that he had a certain experience in mind, because he'd asked her to leave the light on and take her contacts out. Or maybe she felt sad because she couldn't give him any promises about their future.

  She did give him all of herself, though, allowing him to kiss and caress every part of her, to map her body completely in the glow of the bedside lamp. And when he finally put on a condom and thrust deep inside her, she let him see the passion building in her eyes … her beautiful gray eyes.

  He knew he was falling for her. No doubt she also realized what was happening to him. If only she'd, let go of the agenda she was clinging to so desperately. Then she just might fall for him, too.

  * * *

  Sam stayed for breakfast, even though Kasey warned him she didn't know how to cook. He promised to take care of that situation. Then he set the alarm and roused her out of bed at an ungodly hour so they wouldn't have to rush.

  While she showered, he borrowed a razor. He insisted he wouldn't kiss her until he'd shaved because he didn't want to give her whisker burn. Then he joined her in the shower, kissing her on the mouth and after that in places that quickly produced her first climax of the day. She returned the favor, and by the time they finally climbed out of the shower, she was very glad her utilities were included in her rent.

  After they dressed, she watched in fascination as he poked through her refrigerator and located eggs and butter. He found a skillet she never used, took his time learning the idiosyncrasies of her stove, and finally fried the eggs over-easy, exactly the way she liked them. She made the coffee and managed to burn the toast.

  Their division of chores felt dangerously domestic to her. The easy way they puttered around the kitchen together was a little unnerving, and she wondered if he'd comment on it. He didn't.

  Sharing breakfast at her tiny table in a corner of her living room seemed way too cozy and comfortable, and she searched for a way to change the mood. She settled on discussing the project he'd hired her for. "You never did fill out that questionnaire I need for your PR campaign," she said.

  "No. We got sidetracked." He winked at her and continued munching his toast. No guy had any business looking so appealing at seven-thirty in the morning.

  "I could ask you the questions now." If she didn't focus on something else, she was liable to drag him back to the bedroom, and they'd both be late for work.

  He took a swallow of coffee. "Shoot."

  "What message are you conveying with your business currently?"

  He looked blank. "Message? I'm not conveying any message."

  "Yes, you are, whether you realize it or not." Right now he was conveying the message that he was available for some more mind-blowing sex.

  "Then maybe you can tell me what the message is." That you're hot. With great difficulty she refocused her thoughts and tried to picture the business card he'd given her yesterday. "What else is on your card besides the company name and your contact info?"

  "Professional, courteous service."

  "There's your message."

  "And it's boring. It's not sexy enough."

  Oh, but you make up for it. She wondered how many female customers he had. An ad featuring Sam without his shirt would triple his business in no time. But that wasn't the plan he had in mind.

  "So that's what you want?" she said. "A sexy message?"

  "Yeah." He gazed across the table at her. "That's why I came to you. You know that Springsteen tune 'Secret Garden'?"

  "Uh-huh." It was one of her favorite songs in the whole world. She'd nearly worn out that part of the Jerry Maguire soundtrack.

  "I want that kind of message to come across."

  "The song's about sex."

  "I know, and I want to help customers create a secret garden right in their own backyards, where they can … do whatever they want."

  "Like have sex?"

  He smiled at her. "If they want to."

  "But of course you can't come right out and say that."

  "No. It has to be implied, like in the Springsteen tune. But if you can think how to do it, I guarantee I'll get more business."

  She sipped her coffee and turned the problem over in her mind. "How about using the implications of the Springsteen song? Your new slogan could be Specializing in Secret Gardens."

  "You're a genius."

  "Borderline."

  He laughed. "That's close enough for my purposes. I love the slogan. I'm sure we can do lots of great things with it." He reached across the table and captured her hand. "Now let's talk about us, and my garden. I want you to come to my place again. We'll do it right this time, with a meal, candles, soft music and perhaps another visit to the garden."

  Her body hummed in anticipation. "Last time wasn't too shabby."

  "I can improve on it." He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "Tonight?"

  She should probably put him off. Three nights in a row was beginning to look like a serious commitment. Then she tried to imagine how she'd feel, staying home alone when she could be in his garden, in his arms, having multiple orgasms. "Okay," she said.

  His eyes blazed with triumph. "Great. And now I'd better leave before I haul you back to bed." He squeezed her hand and released it before scooting his chair away from the table.

  "What can I bring?" She stood and walked with him to the door.

  "Yourself."

  "No, seriously. I'm no cook, but I can pick up something at the deli."

  He paused by the door. "There is one thing, but you might not want to get it."

  "Sure I would. Bread? Wine? What?"

  "Underwear from Slightly Scandalous."

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  «^»

  Kasey discovered that strolling into Slightly Scandalous as a potential customer was very different from walking in as a PR professional looking for ways to upgrade the store's image. As a buyer, she looked at the displays in a whole new way. Her tummy jumped with nervousness as she tried to decide if she was woman enough to do this or if she was too chicken.

  That emphasized exactly why the store needed an image change. If more women could shop for sexy undies with a degree of comfort, the business would survive, maybe even prosper. If too many women came here feeling as she did right now, sales would continue to slide downhill.

  "Hi, Kasey!" Monique, a young salesgirl the owner had hired a month ago, smiled. From her pink-and-blond spiked hair to her multiple piercings, Monique fit the old Slightly Scandalous stereotype. She was nineteen, only a year younger than Kasey, but she made Kasey feel ancient.

  "Hey, Monique." Kasey wondered if Monique would take kindly to a slight makeover herself, once the store changed its look. A California native, Monique was a freethinker who didn't mind the risqué nature of the shop, but no doubt she wanted to keep her job and understood that business wasn't what it should be. She'd probably coo
perate.

  "I'll bet you're here to get some more ideas, huh?"

  "Something like that," Kasey said. No changes had been made to the displays or the merchandise pending Kasey's presentation of the proposed makeover. Therefore mannequins still wore peekaboo bras and thongs with no crotch. She wondered if that's what Sam envisioned on her tonight.

  "I had an idea," Monique said.

  "What's that?" Kasey had always thought Monique was creative, so she was more than willing to listen.

  "Once the store has relocated with its new look, for some free publicity, you could do a fashion show for some of the businesswomen's clubs in town."

  "With underwear?" Kasey wondered how that would go over at a downtown luncheon meeting.

  "Sure. You could do it very tastefully, have the models wearing silk robes, and then they sort of flash the underwear. I mean, not like a flasher, but more sort of seductive. You know—sophisticatedly sexy."

  Kasey laughed as she imagined how fun and flirty that could be, exactly the image she was trying to create for the store. "I get it. And I think it would work, too, presented like that. Thanks, Monique. If we do that, I'll make sure you get all the credit for the idea."

  "Thanks." Monique flushed with pleasure. "And by the way, you'd make a great model."

  Kasey gulped. "Oh, I don't think so."

  "You would. You have the body for it. You might not want to, seeing as how you're with this big-deal PR company, but you'd be great. I've had some modeling classes. I could teach you how to walk."

  "You could?" Kasey couldn't help thinking of a private runway in a secluded little garden with an audience of one. She wouldn't mind some tips on how to model whatever she bought today, if she worked up the nerve to buy it.

  "I could definitely teach you. Whenever you want. Anyway, I've bothered you enough. You probably came here to prowl around and make notes, like you did last time. Don't let me stop you."

  "Um, okay." If Monique hadn't made assumptions about Kasey's reason for being there this morning, she might have been able to confess the real reason. But now she felt obliged to look professional and busy. Taking her voice-activated recorder out of her briefcase, she started moving around the store.

  "The leather thong and bra might be able to stay in the line," she murmured into the recorder. "But the matching handcuffs need to be moved from the front of the store, perhaps to a special room in back. Ditto the riding crop." She wondered if Sam was into any of that S and M stuff. She couldn't picture him taking it seriously, but as long as it was all in fun, then maybe…

  Shaking herself out of an erotic daydream, she walked to another display. "Silk teddies are one of the key items in a store of this kind, but the customer we're hoping to attract will not want her nipples to show, or her … other parts."

  Or would she? Maybe under certain circumstances she would. For example, if she were carrying on a high-energy affair with a sexy landscaper, she might want to flaunt her nipples. The more Kasey saw of this underwear with gaps in strategic places, the more she believed that was precisely what Sam hoped she'd bring to his private party tonight.

  If she recommended eliminating all such items from the store, they might lose customers who wanted a special thrill connected to their purchase. "Perhaps the answer is to make a private annex available to those who wish to shop for these items," she dictated into the recorder. "Think video store, where the bulk of the offerings are for general consumption, and a special section in the back is dedicated to adult movies."

  No doubt about it, though, something had to be done about the store's curb appeal. She'd been there nearly thirty minutes and not a single customer had arrived. That might change anytime, though, and if she planned to buy anything, she'd better make her move. But what should she get?

  Monique would be glad to advise her. Kasey walked over to the counter where the salesclerk was flipping through the pages of a magazine. Kasey cleared her throat. "Monique, I could use some help."

  "Yeah?" Monique glanced up, her expression eager. "Great! I love coming up with ideas about how to promote stuff. I've been thinking I might like a career in PR. Maybe I'll take some classes."

  "You'd be good at PR." They were back to business and Kasey almost lost her nerve. Monique was setting her up as a role model, so how could she ask for advice on crotchless panties? "I encourage you to give it a try."

  "You know, I think I will. So what do you need help with?"

  "Well, I … I, um, it's sort of a … a personal matter."

  "Oh!"

  "I need to buy some really sexy underwear." Kasey rushed on before she changed her mind. "And I want you to help me pick it out, and … and teach me the runway walk."

  * * *

  Sam didn't have time to make a meal for Kasey, so he picked up some Thai food on the way home. He'd decided to dismantle the hammock to make room for his latest purchase—a canvas gazebo with side panels that rolled down for privacy. He was struggling with the gazebo when Colin stuck his head over the alley gate.

  "Hey, man!" Colin called. "I saw your truck out front but you didn't answer your doorbell, so I thought you might be out here in your favorite spot. What the hell is that, anyway?"

  "It's supposed to be a gazebo, but right now it's a pile of canvas and metal pieces that won't cooperate." He abandoned the mess on his patio and walked over to unlock the gate. "So what's up?"

  "Not your gazebo, apparently. Want some help?"

  "Smart-ass. Sure."

  "Then I'm your guy. I played at a gig where they had one of these contraptions." Colin fished a rubber band out of his pocket and put his long hair in a ponytail— his personal signal that he was getting down to work. "Got beer?"

  "Yeah, but you'll have to drink it quick. I have a date."

  "Cool. Is it that hot chick you brought to the Cactus Club?" Ignoring the directions sitting on the patio table, Colin started putting together braces.

  "Aren't you going to take a passing glance at those directions?" Sam knew the answer, but he wanted to divert Colin away from the subject of Kasey. He'd promised her they'd keep their affair secret.

  Fortunately Colin was easy to distract. That was one of his problems. The only thing he'd stayed with consistently was his music, and that was why Sam wanted to give him all the support he could.

  Sure enough, Colin took the bait and gave Sam a withering glance. "Have you ever known me to use directions?"

  "Nope. But there's always a first time."

  "No, there isn't. Directions only confuse the issue."

  "If you say so. I'll get the beer."

  When he returned a few minutes later with a bottle of his brother's favorite imported brew, Colin had made good progress on the gazebo. The kid was so bright when he focused. Then something occurred to him. As a very bright person who seemed to have her act together, Kasey might be able to help guide him to stay focused. But Sam wasn't supposed to be fostering a relationship between Kasey and his brother.

  "Pick up that side of the canvas top and we'll lift it over the frame," Colin said.

  "How do you know that's it's facing right?"

  "I channeled the gazebo maker over in China, dude."

  Sam laughed, but sometimes he wondered if Colin was joking or not. The kid was amazing. Having Colin around had given him an appreciation for the workings of the right brain and had taught him to admire creative intelligence, not sneer at it.

  Kasey might not find a lot of guys who could do that. He wondered how he could subtly point out to her that he, Sam Ashton, was the one for her. And he didn't feel like waiting around tapping his foot while she had sex with a bunch of other guys, either.

  Before long the gazebo was finished and Colin claimed his beer. "You're not having one with me?"

  "Nah."

  "Gotta stay sharp for your gazebo-mate, huh?" Colin grinned at him. "Are you going to put the patio table in there? That would be classy."

  "Uh, maybe." Sam wasn't keen on revealing his plans for the gaze
bo. They didn't involve putting the patio table in it. "When's the next gig for the Tin Tarantulas?"

  Colin pointed the beer bottle at him. "Way to read my mind, bro! I swear you're getting better at ESP every day."

  Not really. But he was getting better at changing the subject when he didn't want Colin to continue along a certain line of questioning. "So you have something coming up?"

  "We do, and it's a big deal. We're booked into that new place, the Yucca Lounge."

  Sam had heard of it, a trendy club in Scottsdale. "Isn't that a much bigger venue?"

  "Most definitely. Which is why I need your help, man. I want you to call in all your favors for Saturday night, talk to anybody you know. We have to pack that place to the rafters, and I'm nervous. It's huge."

  "You'll pull them in," Sam said. "There was standing room only at the Cactus Club."

  "We're talkin' twice the number of seats. Please get the word out to everyone in your Rolodex, okay?"

  "Okay." Sam nodded and tried to think of helping his brother instead of mourning the loss of a big chunk of his Saturday night. He and Kasey would have to meet afterward, because he couldn't take her, not if she really wanted to keep their affair quiet.

  Colin still looked worried. "Like, can you put pressure on your guys at work?"

  "Sure. I'll do that. I'll ask them to bring their friends. Don't worry. It'll be fine."

  "I can't leave that to chance. This is the time to dredge up everybody you've ever known in Phoenix, man. Drag out your yearbook and start looking for dudes you knew in high school. Me, I can't do that because we moved and I've lost track of everybody."

  "I'll find out who's still in town. I've been meaning to look in the phone book and find out if Jim Winston's still here. If he is, maybe he can help me round up some of the other guys."

  "Thanks, bro." Colin clapped him on the back. "And bring your girlfriend, and all her friends, too."

  "Uh, we'll see."

  Colin peered at him. Then he waved his arm at the gazebo. "You just put up a frickin' gazebo for this chick, and you can't bring her on Saturday night?"