I Waxed My Legs for This? (2 page)

“Eating orgies,” he corrected.

He pulled the last sheet.

“Boy, that hurt,” Carrie said, massaging her newly liberated left leg. “It had better last for six weeks like the box said or I’ll be...”

Jack watched her, momentarily tuning out her chatter.

She had chased him? He didn’t quite remember it that way. When she’d moved in next door they’d been too young for him to think of her as a girl, she was just a neighbor. As they grew older they moved from neighbors to friends.

Friends.

Of course that’s what they were.

Friends.

If she’d chased him, it hadn’t been very far.

She’d always been there—ready to listen, needing to be rescued, rescuing him, though Jack doubted she knew how many times her generous heart had soothed him, especially over the last few months since Sandy.

He shut off all thoughts of Sandy. He didn’t want to face them. Didn’t want to face his failure.

Carrie’s list of women he’d dated proved what he’d begun to suspect—he was a failure with the opposite sex. Five serious romances since college and not one of them had lasted. He’d thought he’d finally found the right woman with Sandy. He’d thought they’d eventually marry and have a family. Those dreams had died with Sandy’s accident. It wasn’t long after the incident that they decided to go their separate ways.

“Jack,” Carrie said, pulling him from his thoughts.

She rose on her de-haired legs and smiled as Jack tuned back in. “Jack, I was just going to make dinner.”

There was an unspoken invitation in that one statement or maybe it was a warning.

Jack resisted groaning and thought fast.

Carrie
and
cooking
were two words that didn’t go well together.

Carrie
and
indigestion
were words that went together better.

“Since your legs are so smooth, why don’t I take them, and the rest of you, out for something. I’ll promise to order shrimp.”

A look of relief swept over her face. Carrie wasn’t any more fond of cooking than he was of eating her attempts. “I was counting on you asking. Now that I’m once again between boyfriends there will be too many nights of my cooking. I look at it as incentive to find another.”

“Cook?” he asked.

“Boyfriend.”

She got off the couch and her robe parted revealing her hairless leg. Though Jack had just waxed them, watching them peek through her robe emphasized what shapely legs they were.

Not that he was looking.

Carrie was a buddy and no one eyed up a buddy’s legs.

She knotted the robe. “Guess I better change. I can’t go out in this.”

“Ah, Carrie, isn’t that my jersey?”

Now that she’d recovered from her mishap, he didn’t feel bad about teasing her. Actually, teasing about the jersey had almost become a ritual.

Both of them knew Jack would never get it back.

Right on cue, Carrie looked down and her eyes widened. “Why now that you mention it, it is. I’d give it to you now, but it’s dirty. Let me launder it and I’ll get it back to you next week.”

She walked into the bathroom to change and Jack stared after her, unable to resist watching the sway of her robe. She was a nicely packaged woman.

He put the thought away. They’d been friends for so many years, that he was just sort of used to her.

Carrington Rose Delany, his friend.

Carrie was lucky she’d never pursued her girlhood infatuation of Jackson Templeton.

If she had, Jack would have surely wrecked whatever relationship they built. He certainly had a track record for messing up where women were concerned.

No, they were both lucky the infatuation hadn’t gone any further than one mouth-to-mouth experience.

Carrie rummaged through the dresser she kept in the bathroom.

Dinner with Jack never meant hamburgers and fries, so jeans wouldn’t do. That was okay with Carrie. She loved dressing up. It was sort of an occupational hazard.

Working in a vintage dress shop gave Carrie far too many opportunities to indulge her weakness. And she’d certainly indulged it this week. She’d bought the perfect dress for tonight’s dinner. It had come into the shop last week. It was just the thing for a night out with Jack. Just the thing to put her plan into action.

It was antique-white—a color that should have made it look almost virginal, and it did look that way, at least on the hanger.

But when she had it on...

Carrie smiled. She slipped the deceptively simple design over her head and gazed at her reflection in the full-length mirror at the other end of the room.

Yes, the flapper era dress might look virginal on the hanger, but when she put it on it was pure temptation. And, tonight she needed to play the role of temptress to the hilt in order to trick Jack.

She felt a bit guilty about the plan she was about to set in motion, but she recognized the need for the subterfuge. Jack was too stubborn for his own good. And it was his own good she had in mind. She couldn’t help but notice the dark circles that had become a permanent fixture under his eyes these past few months. And today she’d noticed he looked like he’d lost some weight. He was still mourning the loss of his last relationship.

Carrie pushed aside any residual guilt and concentrated on her plan. It might be slightly underhanded, but it was in Jack’s best interest. He was too stubborn to realize how much he needed to get away. But he wouldn’t be able to resist playing the hero and he’d never know that
she
was really rescuing
him
.

She fished at the bottom of the closet and found her off-white pumps and slipped them on. She wrapped her hair in a simple little chignon and, with a light hand, applied a bit of makeup. She added jewelry and perfume. She was done. Just fifteen minutes. Not too bad, she congratulated herself as she went out to meet Jack.

“Ready,” she called cheerfully.

He whistled and she pirouetted.

“Like?” she asked, needing to hear him say the words.

“Not quite the word I’d use. What did I do to warrant a dress like that?”

He was falling right into her plan.

Playing her role, Carrie shrugged her shoulders. “Not you. If you’re taking me out, I want to look my best. After all, I’m currently footloose and fancy-free. Maybe the man of my dreams will show up tonight. I certainly want to be ready if he does.”

Jack’s smile slipped a bit. “Ready for what?”

“For anything. You can never tell what’s waiting for you when you walk out the door.” So saying, she moved toward the door. Her stomach was growling, something that might embarrass her if it made noises in front of anyone besides Jack.

“I’ll agree with you there. But Carrie, I don’t know if you should advertise as heavily as that dress does.”

“What do you mean? It’s perfectly decent.”

She rummaged in the coat closet and found a shawl that accented the dress perfectly.

Jack hadn’t moved. He stood there, arms crossed and frowning in a very lawyerish way. “Decent isn’t the word I’d choose to describe that dress.”

“Jack, I’m wearing the dress. Just think, if I don’t manage to collect a date or two tonight I’ll have to eat my own cooking. You wouldn’t really want that, would you?”

He sighed and walked out the door.

Carrie trailed after him, locking the door behind her. “Is there something the matter, I mean, other than my dress?”

Carrie had her suspicions. There had only been one thing wrong with Jack for months. “Sandy?” she asked.

He turned, his expression was odd.

Carrie knew for sure that something was the matter, but Jack just shook his head and continued down the stairs. “No, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“Well, of course you are.” She pasted a smile on her face, determined to hide her concern. She had her plan, after all. “You’ve been working too hard. We haven’t done anything together in weeks.”

“You were pretty wrapped up in your boyfriend,” he reminded her.

She gripped the railing as she started down the stairs. The only time she regretted her loft was when she was wearing heels.

“He’s gone now.” Carrie placed her hand on Jack’s shoulder. “When you’re ready to talk about Sandy, I’m here.”

For him there was work and then there was more work. At least, that’s how it had been ever since Sandy had left him.

Actually his work at Ericson and Roberts law firm had always been a priority. During the five years he’d worked there he’d found his niche and endeavored to secure it.

But since the breakup with Sandy, he hadn’t just worked hard, he’d worked as if there was nothing else in life
but
work. Carrie had watched helplessly, unsure how to comfort him and how to get him to ease back on his workload. Working was his way of dealing with losing Sandy.

Sandy
.

The breakup was one of the few topics that Jack wouldn’t talk about. Carrie was sure he was still grieving. It was her job to see to it that he left his office long enough to recover.

Jack was a thirty-year-old heart attack waiting to happen.

Carrie had decided that she was the twenty-eight-year-old antidote.

“Come on, big guy, I’m awfully hungry.”

She let herself into his car and settled in.

“You’re always hungry,” he pointed out.

“Right. So you’d think you would have figured out you need to feed me regularly, but here we are, when all the food is somewhere else.”

“You’re absolutely right, my lady. Let’s go.”

They drove in companionable silence. Carrie smiled as they pulled into Bayside Country Club, Jack’s club.

The first time he’d brought her, Carrie had felt out of place, but that had lasted only until the food was served. Carrie felt at home wherever there was a plate of good food and Bayside had some of the best in Erie, Pennsylvania.

“Hi, Martin,” she said to the maître d’.

“Ah, Mr. Templeton and Carrie. What a pleasure to see you both tonight. It’s been a few weeks.”

Carrie allowed Martin to take her hand and give it a light kiss. “We don’t have a reservation, Martin, and it’s all my fault. I offered to cook for Jack and positively scared the man into bringing me here.”

“There’s always a seat for you both here.” Martin ushered them toward a table.

Martin seated her. “Would you like to start with something to drink?”

“Food, Martin. Just food. It’s the only thing to help heal my broken heart.”

“Another boyfriend bit the dust?” the maître d’ asked Jack.

“Rumor has it he wasn’t much of a kisser,” Jack explained.

Carrie glared at Jack, and answered Martin herself. “Well, kissing is important. And, even worse than that, the man had absolutely no idea how to order the right food.”

“Ah, now that is a crime. And speaking of good food, it just so happens that Felix has this new pasta dish that will make you forget all your troubles.”

“Well, I’m so upset, it will be hard to do it justice, but for your sake, I’ll try,” she said, adding a small sniff for effect.

“I’ll have the shrimp,” Jack said, smiling at her.

Martin gave him a brief nod. “I’ll hurry the food along,” he told Carrie.

As he departed, Carrie stuck her tongue out at Jack. “See, someone realizes that I’ve suffered a huge loss.”

“Carrie, you broke it off with him.”

Leave it to Jack to try to make a breakup logical. What he didn’t understand was that the heart wasn’t logical. There was no way to push it in a direction it wouldn’t go.

Carrie had learned that particular lesson in high school, after Jack’s kiss had made her realize that he was more than just her neighbor and friend.

Unfortunately his heart hadn’t noticed a thing. He’d gone off to college and discovered pom-pom perfect Patti, and then her long line of successors.

She’d watched Jack try to analyze his split with Sandy for months, to no avail.

If she could have talked to him about it, she would have tried to tell him that Sandy had never been right for him. But Jack wouldn’t talk about the breakup. And Carrie knew that he had to figure it out for himself. He needed time and distance, not her lectures.

That’s where her plan came into play.

“I might have done the breaking, but it’s still a loss. And that brings me to another little problem.”

“Problem?”

Sensing the game had begun, Carrie made the first move. “Forget I said anything. I’m sure some other man will be willing to help me out. After all, you said this dress was a knockout.”

“I didn’t say that,” Jack, always the literal lawyer, argued.

Literal, but predictable.

She wanted to grin, but maintained her annoyed look instead. “Fine, you implied it. Maybe I’ll go see for myself if it’s a knockout or not. I could go scout the bar while we’re waiting for our dinners. Maybe someone there would be willing to help me out with my little problem.”

As a sure sign of resignation, Jack sighed. “Care, you know I’ll help you if I can.”

“No,” she said, quite firmly. “I’m sure I can handle this on my own. You know how I hate to bother you with my little problems.”

“Carrie,” Jack said, with a note of warning in his voice.

“Why, you act as if I was perfectly helpless. I’m a big girl, have been for years, I’m sure I can figure out a way to handle this as well.”

“Carrie...”

She was on a roll, unwilling to slow down. “Why I could have figured out a way to get that wax off without you, you know. I’ll just make sure I don’t bother you with my trivial little problems anymore.”

“Carrie, what is the problem?” he asked, his voice sharp with frustration.

“You don’t have to yell at me,” she said.

“Care, I’m sorry I yelled,” he said, his voice lower, but still tinged with frustration.

“Never mind, it’s okay,” Carrie said, and sniffed for good measure.

He leaned toward her and steepled his fingers under his chin in a very lawyerish way. “Now, tell me what the problem is.”

“Well, remember when you showed up and I said I was waxing my legs because I was going to the beach this weekend to get some sun?”

Jack nodded and Carrie gave another delicate sniff. “Well, you see, that’s the problem.”

“But we got the wax off your legs,” Jack protested.

“Not the wax, but the beach.”

“The beach?” he asked, becoming more confused by the minute.

Erie was blessed with some of the most wonderful non-ocean beaches around. Presque Isle, a peninsula that curled into Lake Erie, housed beaches on its lakeside and created a sheltered bay on the other. It was only minutes from town.

Carrie loved to spend days there in the summer and she frequently bullied Jack into joining her. But this time she had something more in mind.

“I need a man to go with me,” she said. “I was hoping you knew someone.”

“Why do you need a man?”

“Because,” she spoke slowly. “They only let couples on the beach.”

He chuckled. “Where did you hear that? Anyone can go to Presque Isle. It’s a state park, after all.”

“Not the peninsula. Amore Island. Remember? I told you about it. It’s off the Carolina coast. Jodi’s Travel Agency was having a special on the tickets, and Ted and I were going to go. Well, now there’s no Ted and I’m in a bind.”

“I’m not following you?”

For a lawyer, he could be pretty dense.

He seemed to do well enough with his contracts, but didn’t seem to be able to follow a simple conversation.

Slowly, as if speaking to a very small child, Carrie said, “It’s a couples’ resort. I’m no longer a couple, so they won’t let me on the island, much less on the beach.”

“And you want me to introduce you around to my friends and help you find a replacement for Ted?”

Carrie shook her head and felt part of her chignon fall out.

Sighing, she pulled the rest out and let it fall to her shoulders. It was baby fine and never stayed in any style for long.

“No, silly,” she said. “I want you...”