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All She Wants...: Oh, Naughty Night! / Nice & Naughty / Under Wraps
All She Wants...: Oh, Naughty Night! / Nice & Naughty / Under Wraps

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All She Wants...: Oh, Naughty Night! / Nice & Naughty / Under Wraps

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She stared, unsure how to answer. Yes, on Halloween, she’d been after only a brief, sexual adventure. Now, though, especially having spent the past several weeks getting to know Chaz all over again, she feared she wouldn’t be content with that. But was she really ready to try for something real, something honest, that went beyond sex? It wasn’t just an issue of Chaz wanting to; she, herself, had to be sure she was ready to trust someone.

You can trust Chaz. You know you can.

With her life, maybe. He’d never physically hurt her, or allow anyone else to. But with her heart? Well, that was a whole other story. His career meant everything to him; she’d only ever be a distant second in terms of importance. She might give him her heart, but he’d never completely give her his.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’re friends, we share a lot, and he’d never make me feel used or unimportant. But I’m just starting a job here that means a lot to me, and he’s never in one place for long. That wouldn’t make it easy to build something.”

“You deserve someone who knows how you’re feeling, knows what your dreams are, what you care about, and who you really are,” said Amelia, her eyes misty, as if her heart hurt for Lulu.

“Maybe,” she said, thinking about it.

“And if that’s Chaz, you’ve got to wrap your mind around the idea that you have to take some risks,” Viv said. “Starting with telling him who you were on Halloween night.”

Crap. Back to that again. “He’ll be so mad. I’ve lied, and Chaz always hated liars.”

“If you tell him before he finds out some other way, at least he’ll appreciate you trying to do the right thing,” said Amelia.

“I’ll just look desperate, like I’m trying to ruin his new romance with what’s-her-face.”

“Do you know how far it’s gotten?” asked Amelia. “Are they, um...serious?”

“Has he made love to her?” asked Viv.

Lulu frowned at her friend. “Oh, very nice. You ask if he’s fucked me but if he’s made love to her?”

“I was trying to be ladylike and stuff.” Viv waved a hand toward Amelia. “I figure I’ve burned her ears enough for one night. But if you want to be blunt about it...has he banged her or not?”

“They’ve gone out the past two weekends.” She nibbled her lip. “What do you suppose that means?”

“He didn’t seem to be a slow mover on Halloween,” said Viv.

Lulu had been trying not to think about that. She glared at the brunette, who immediately back-pedaled. “Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s as attracted to her as he was to you. There were some serious pheromones that night. You two might as well have started dry-humping in the middle of your dance.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“He really seemed crazy about you,” said Amelia, nodding loyally. “For all we know, he’s gone out with her a few times specifically because he’s trying to figure out why he’s not feeling that same immediate attraction he felt for you. I mean her. Oh, heck, I have no idea what I mean.”

“I understood you the first time,” Lulu said. “Do you really think it’s possible?”

“Definitely,” said Amelia.

Viv merely shrugged and sipped her margarita. “Anything’s possible.” But she didn’t sound very convinced.

Lulu wanted to believe Amelia was right, but Chaz hadn’t been a slow mover, at least not on Halloween. She’d primed him, gotten him totally worked up and ready, and some other woman had moved in for the kill, taking orgasms that should rightfully have been Lulu’s.

Orgasms, and now her holiday dinner, too.

“I still can’t believe he invited her for Thanksgiving.”

Lulu was kicking herself for having agreed to attend. She wouldn’t have if she’d known he was going to invite the redhead, who, upon hearing about the pot-luck holiday meal, had claimed she, too, was being “orphaned” by vacationing family members on Thanksgiving. It sounded to Lulu like the schemer had angled for an invitation the way a pro fisherman went after the biggest carp. And Chaz had acted like a well-hooked fish.

Since all their parents were going to be away, Chaz had decided to step up and host a holiday meal for all his friends who had no place else to go. That included her and Lawrence, Chaz and his sister Sarah, as well as Peggy, Marcia and Frankie.

And Heather. Blech. Stupid secret-identity-stealing Heather.

Good grief, she was the last person Lulu wanted to spend a holiday with. If it weren’t for the real possibility that World War Three would break out between Sarah and Lawrence, with pumpkin pies and green bean casserole flying, she’d blow off the whole meal.

But she couldn’t. She’d told Chaz she would come, and that she’d help him mediate between their younger siblings. She intended to keep her word, even if it meant smiling across the table at the woman who’d stepped in and taken advantage of the man Lulu had gotten all heated up on Halloween. She wouldn’t let on what she was really thinking if it killed her.

She kept reminding herself of that a few days later, on the actual holiday.

She’d arrived at Chaz’s place early, having promised to help him decipher the instructions on cooking a twenty-pound turkey. As they’d feared, there were innards to deal with, but fortunately they were bagged, and even more fortunately, Chaz was the one who dug them out.

If she hadn’t known that Heather would be arriving later in the day, along with the other, more welcome guests, she might have actually enjoyed the time she spent in the kitchen with Chaz. His house was roomy and nicely furnished, and his kitchen pretty well stocked for a bachelor. Lulu wasn’t much of a cook, but she’d paid attention when her mom cooked holiday meals and certainly felt capable of sugaring a few yams and mashing some potatoes. Anything she didn’t remember how to do, Chaz was quick to figure out, or look up on the internet.

They made a pretty good team, if she did say so herself.

Since that day a couple of weeks ago, when they’d kissed, he’d gone back to treating her like a friend from back home. There’d been no flirtation. He’d been just a little overprotective but hadn’t pried too much into her business. He sure hadn’t kissed her, though she had turned around once or twice and caught him looking at her with an intensity he usually kept hidden.

It was at those moments she was sure he hadn’t forgotten their kiss any more than she had.

They’d opened Pandora’s box. They both knew how good they could be together, and it was impossible to un-remember that delicious, intense passion. They might have shoved it back in the box and vowed to never take it out again, but that didn’t mean they didn’t both think about it and wonder. And wonder. And wonder.

Usually, though, they managed to behave like nothing had happened. They still walked together to the train every day, still socialized with others on weekends. Lawrence had come over a few times. He and Chaz had become close again, as they’d been when they were kids, when Chaz had served as a big brother figure, before Sarah had come between them.

She and Chaz had so much in common, so much shared history, and truly enjoyed each other’s company now. Today had been laid-back and easy, fun and a little silly. He’d teased her about taking as much potato as peel, she’d harassed him for not knowing you had to add sugar to fresh cranberries to make a sauce. They drank a little wine, occasionally exchanging a long, studied glance when their hands brushed over a towel or their legs made contact under the table. The rivalry and tension from their childhood was gone, the awareness warm and unthreatening, and they got along so well it was almost as though they were a couple.

At least, until the doorbell rang.

Heather, who’d called out, “Yoo-hoo,” as she passed by the kitchen window, was out front. Heather with the perfect smile and the cutest little upturned nose matched by what Lulu suspected were surgically enhanced upturned tits. Heather who was occupying a place in Chaz’s life, in his memories, maybe even in his bed, that rightfully belonged to Lulu.

Chaz was basting the bird and asked her to get the door. Drying her hands on a dish towel, which she whipped over her shoulder, she strode out of the kitchen and yanked open the front door.

“Hello, Heather,” she said as she ushered the other woman in. “You’re early. Nobody else is here yet.”

Heather’s smile was small and tight. She’d obviously expected someone else to answer the door. Someone far more susceptible to red hair, a phony smile and equally phony tits.

“Hello, Lulu. I thought I’d come early in case Chaz needed any help.”

“I think we have everything under control.”

The redhead shoved a foil-wrapped, pie-shaped object into Lulu’s waiting hands. “Well, I’ll just cheer you two on then, shall I? But first I have to freshen up.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled, turning and heading for the kitchen. She didn’t wait to see if Heather followed or made herself at home, because, frankly, she didn’t want the proof that the other women had been here enough to know her way around.

The two women had met that day at the bar, when Chaz had first spotted Heather and made such a fool of himself trying to find out if she recognized him from a former meeting. Like from having given him a blowjob in an ATM vestibule.

The devious woman had played it smart. Being pursued by a gorgeous, successful, charming man, she hadn’t immediately denied being the Halloween witch he sought, nor had she confirmed it. She just acted mysterious and coy, and what American man didn’t go ape over those kinds of women? She’d played him better than Schaefer played his guitar, and Chaz was too fascinated to notice.

It had been all Lulu could do to not out her for a phony right then and there. Of course, the only way she could have done that would have been to out herself, as well. And that she was not ready to do.

“She brought pie,” Lulu said as she entered the kitchen, putting the dessert on the counter. Chaz didn’t even look up, busy trying to figure out how to cut into a big, softball-size vegetable. “You’d better be careful, you might lose a finger cutting into that Winnebago.”

“It’s a rutabaga. I can’t believe you don’t remember my mom making these every Christmas.”

“Guess I always snuck it onto Lawrence’s plate when nobody was looking.”

“Where is Heather?” he asked, still gazing only at the waxy vegetable and the big-ass knife in his hand. He didn’t sound terribly excited about the arrival, and didn’t dash off to kiss her passionately in welcome, which made Lulu feel a little better.

“Being nosy and checking the balance in your checkbook, I think.”

He lifted a brow at her tone.

“She’s in the bathroom,” she admitted. “Freshening up her face for you.”

“You don’t like her, huh?”

“I don’t know her enough to like her or dislike her.” Licking her lips and pretending to be entirely focused on a recipe for green bean casserole, which she could probably make blindfolded, she asked, “Do you like her?”

He thought about it, a confused expression on his face. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Sometimes I think I do. Other times I wonder what on earth it was about her that so fascinated me the night we met.”

Lulu’s teeth slammed together and she clenched them tightly. She had to pry her words out from between them with brute force. “So, you’d met her before that day we played kickball?”

You idiot, are you totally blind? How dare you think she’s me? There’s not one real, natural thing about her!

He lowered the big knife he’d been using, glanced toward the doorway, and lowered his voice to say, “I don’t know. I thought so, but I’m just not sure. She seems...different than the woman I met, the one I’ve been looking for. And she’s so mysterious about it, she won’t confirm or deny anything when I ask her about it.”

Lulu swallowed, hard. “This woman you met, the one you’re looking for? What was so special about her?”

Chaz shook his head slowly, visibly lost in thought. “I honestly don’t know that, either. I’m not even sure the damn night actually happened. Maybe I was so jet-lagged I crashed when I got home from my trip and dreamed up some elaborate fantasy.”

She gulped. She didn’t want him thinking Heather was the woman he’d been with...but was him convincing himself it hadn’t really happened any better?

Well, yeah, if she wanted to keep her secret, it probably was. But part of her wasn’t sure about that secret anymore. Okay, so they weren’t going to let anything happen between them...would it be the crime of the century if he found out she was the one he’d come so close to hooking up with that night? At least he’d know the truth and wouldn’t be driving himself crazy trying to imprint his memories of that night onto the face of someone who didn’t even have the guts to tell him he had the wrong girl.

“Well hey there, happy Thanksgiving!”

Heather walked into the kitchen. She’d taken off her jacket. She’d also obviously spent time in front of the bathroom mirror, fluffing up her windblown hair to make it look more artfully windblown. She’d smeared bright red lipstick across her lips, and pulled her sweater down to reveal more of the silicone.

Ignoring Lulu, she walked around to the other side of the kitchen island and lifted her face, pursing her lips for a kiss. Chaz, Lulu noted, hesitated, glancing in her direction before obliging his date. If she had to guess, she’d say he was a little uncomfortable.

Good. Because if he couldn’t tell that woman’s kiss from hers, he deserved what he got.

“I’m going to double-check the Ping-Pong table,” Lulu said, trying to keep the disgust out of her voice. If she had to see Chaz kiss another woman, she might just be the one flinging the pie and green bean casserole.

“Isn’t there a lot to still do?” Heather asked, pretending she didn’t care that she hadn’t gotten her kiss.

But Lulu cared. Oh, hell, yes, she did. She hid her smile, though, not wanting Chaz to notice and interpret it. “Yes, quite a lot,” she said.

“If you want to play a game, Lulu, don’t worry about it. I’ll fill in here.”

Lulu smirked. “Uh, the Ping-Pong table is the only thing Chaz had that was big enough to seat everybody around. We’re eating on it down in the rec room.”

The woman’s eyes rounded and her smile faded a tiny bit. Perhaps she was picturing a fancy holiday meal from an internationally published journalist. But she wasn’t going to get it.

Frankly, Lulu loved the effort Chaz had gone to for them. Her heart had melted a little bit when she’d arrived and seen him putting a pristine white tablecloth over the huge table, setting it with new dishes he’d picked up just for today. He’d shoved a bunch of mismatched chairs, including outdoor ones, around the table, determined to make it a great holiday, not just for his friends, but also for his bratty little sister, spending her first holiday away from home.

How many guys would go to so much trouble? Not many, she knew. That was just one thing that made Chaz so special.

If Heather didn’t see and appreciate that, she didn’t deserve him. Hell, she didn’t deserve him period!

And somehow, no matter what it cost her personally, Lulu hoped Chaz found out the truth about the other woman, and realized she was not worth his time and trouble. He deserved better.

* * *

ALTHOUGH CHAZ HAD worried a lot about the presence of both Sarah and Lawrence at today’s holiday dinner, his sister and Lulu’s brother managed to surprise him. They’d apparently seen each other on campus and now were both perfectly cordial, if not exactly warm. The younger pair had finally grown up. So in that respect, things were going great.

The problem had come from an entirely different direction. Chaz found his peace of mind most disturbed by having both Heather and Lulu here.

It was crazy. He and Lulu were old friends; they’d both agreed that’s what they would remain. End of story. And Heather was a woman he’d just started dating who was new to town and had nowhere else to go. It had seemed perfectly natural for them both to be invited. But now that they were both here, sitting at opposite ends of the Ping-Pong table ignoring each other easily in this big group, he couldn’t help comparing them—and realizing he’d made a mistake. Possibly a big one.

Heather might be the woman whose memory had tantalized and tormented him for weeks. She might be the one who had flooded him with want and erotic fantasy.

But she sure didn’t feel like it.

They’d gone out twice before today, and while he thought she was attractive, he hadn’t experienced that out-of-breath, heart-pounding, palm-sweating, pant-tenting excitement, not even when they’d kissed. Nor had his usually subtle, but sometimes direct questions about whether she was the one he’d met on Halloween night yielded any definite answers. She hadn’t said yes. She hadn’t said no. She’d hinted and hemmed and hawed. His sexy witch had hidden her name from him on Halloween night, so she obviously did like being mysterious. But he’d never felt like she was playing games. He wasn’t so sure about Heather, who, he suspected, could be a game-player. The only thing he knew for sure was that he felt not only confused but untouched.

Nothing about Heather touched him at his most basic, elemental level, the way it had on Halloween.

He’d invited her for Thanksgiving before he’d come to the realization that she was probably not his mystery/fantasy woman. But since he was no closer to finding that woman, and since Heather was attractive and interested, he had decided to play this out with her.

All that had seemed smart.

Until he’d spent much of the day with Lulu.

Lulu was a brat from his past, the girl next door, the little witch who’d busted his ass, literally.

She was not supposed to feel so natural by his side. She was not supposed to inspire thoughts of hot kisses and sweaty sheets. Her hair wasn’t supposed to feel so soft and sensuous against his skin. The sight of her hands shouldn’t make parts of his body tense in anticipation of her touch.

What the hell was happening here?

“I still can’t believe the parents all went on a cruise for Thanksgiving. But I have to say, you did a really good job today, big brother.”

Chaz tore his mind off the confusing women in his life—woman, one, Lulu is not in your life, not as a woman anyway—and smiled at his kid sister.

“Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without Lulu.”

“Well, thanks to you, too, Lulu,” Sarah said, sounding sincere and being nice to Lulu, with whom there was usually tension. Then she ruined it by smirking. “I guess we should all just be glad you both survived it. With the track record between you, and all those sharp objects in the kitchen, it’s lucky nobody was scarred or maimed.”

Lulu picked up her wine glass, bringing it to her lips. “The night’s still young,” she mumbled before sipping.

“Were these two really nemeses like we’ve heard?” asked Peggy, who was rubbing her full stomach with one hand, while patting Marcia’s with another.

Lulu’s kid brother, Lawrence, who looked as a young man exactly as he had when a young boy—a little small, angular face, deep, soulful eyes, and kind smile—answered. “Only because they were in love with each other.”

Chaz dropped his fork. It landed with a clatter on his plate. But even that wasn’t loud enough to cover Lulu’s immediate exclamation.

“That is crazy!”

She sounded like somebody had just accused her of robbing a church, which wasn’t exactly flattering.

Of course, his vehemence probably didn’t make her feel any better when he snapped, “I doubt Lulu was in love with me when she cut off all my hair with her Fiskar scissors during recess.”

“It grew back,” she sniped. “And I doubt you were in love with me when you told all your friends that I wet the bed.”

“You did.”

“When I was three!”

“Nobody ever asked for clarification,” he said, his smile taunting. “I never lied.”

“No, you never do, Saint Chaz.”

“Whoa, whoa, sorry,” said Peggy, holding up her hands, palm out, to each of them, acting as referee. “I didn’t mean to start a war here.”

“Wow, it sounds to me like you two can’t stand each other,” said Heather, whose sweet smile didn’t quite hide the gleam of happiness in her eye. He had to wonder if the redhead had picked up on some of the vibes between him and Lulu.

“Okay, subject change,” said Marcia as she licked the last of her mashed potatoes off her fork. “Lulu, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how’s work going? Has our donation been distributed yet?”

“Donation?” Heather asked.

Chaz listened, too. Lulu had never really talked about her job, and he honestly didn’t know what she did, beyond working in an office up on Massachusetts Avenue. Her master’s degree was in political science, so he assumed she was doing something connected with one of the many embassies up in that part of the city.

“Yes, it has,” Lulu said, smiling at Marcia.

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