Indecent Suggestion (18 page)

Oh, God…

But the second time, he hurried on, not wanting to accept anything at face value. What had happened then? It
had been right after the presentation of their pitch to the Bluestocking people. Oh, man, no way could he remember what had been said then. There had been a lot of people in the room, and they’d all been talking at once. Still, it was a good bet the word
underwear
had come up in discussion at least once.

Oh, God…

But that third time, he hurried himself forward again, had been at their boss’s house the following weekend. And that had been a high-society party. Ain’t no way anyone could have been talking about underwear there, he tried to reassure himself. And just before Becca had come on to him that night, they’d both been talking to their boss. And Englund had said…
What?
Turner thought, trying to remember. Something about the presentation the week before, and something about his and Becca’s bonuses, and how they’d be pleased with what they found in their Christmas stockings this year, in addition to—

All the free underwear either of them could ever use.

Oh, God…

He thought about all the other times he and Becca had been together. And just about every time, the Bluestocking Lingerie account came into play. Even if he couldn’t remember exactly what was said, it was a safe bet that the word
underwear
had come up prior to Becca’s sudden interest in having sex.

It was true. Becca had been coming on to him not because she cared about him that way or because she was turned on by him. And not because the two of them had been working on a racy-lingerie campaign. It hadn’t even been because she was stressed out and working under pressure and not thinking straight. It was because she’d been
told by a hypnotist that when she heard a certain word, she’d want to have sex. Hell, for all Turner knew, she would have responded to Robert Englund himself if it had been their employer with her on those occasions instead of Turner.

She hadn’t been making love to him because she loved him, he realized. She’d been making love to him because a certain word made her horny. That was all.

But if they’d both been hypnotized, which Dorcas had insisted they were at the time, then why hadn’t he responded to the word, too? Turner asked himself. That first time with Becca, he’d been turned on, sure, but he was in a perpetual state of arousal around her. When she’d initially come on to him that first time, he’d thought she was joking, and he’d done his best to tamp
down
his desire for her. If he’d been affected by the posthypnotic suggestion, then he would have been all over her, wouldn’t he? But there had been a lot of hesitation on his part, and not just that first time, either. Why hadn’t he been as turned on by the word
underwear
as she had been?

Not all people are able to be hypnotized. And of those who
are
able to be hypnotized, not all respond to hypnotherapy.

Dorcas’s disclaimer from that day in her office came back to him then, and Turner understood. She may have put him under, but the posthypnotic suggestion hadn’t taken for him. It had worked for Becca, but it hadn’t for him. So
his
response to
her,
at least, had been genuine. Not that he needed reassurance about that. He already knew he’d been making love to Becca because he loved her. She just hadn’t been making love to him for the same reason.

“Turner?” he heard Dorcas ask now.

But her voice seemed to be coming from a million miles
away. And he had no idea how to respond to her. Too many thoughts were whizzing through his head at the moment, ricocheting off each other and crashing into each other, and mixing with each other, until he couldn’t begin to figure out what he was thinking. What he was feeling.

Oh, wait. Yes, he could, too, figure out what he was feeling. Bad. Really, really, really
bad
.

“Turner?” he heard Dorcas say again.

But he only shook his head numbly and told her, “I gotta go.”

“Turner, wait,” she said, curling her fingers over his forearm. “There’s something you need to know.”

“No, I gotta go, Dorcas,” he repeated, gently shaking her off. He took a few steps backward. “I’m late for…something.”

“But—”

“Really late,” he assured her, completing a few more steps.

“But, Turner—”

“Later than I realized,” he said. “I really gotta go.”

And without awaiting a reply from her, not that any reply was necessary—or even forthcoming, because all Dorcas kept saying was his name over and over again— Turner pivoted around and made his way down the street in the snow, the red jeweler’s bag still dangling from his fingertips. The bag that held the ring that was so perfect for Becca.

Too bad the guy carrying it couldn’t say the same thing about himself.

W
HEN HE ARRIVED BACK
at his apartment, Becca wasn’t there, but he found a note on the table telling him she’d gone to her own place to take care of a few things, and that
she’d be back by dinnertime. So Turner put the little red bag holding the ring on a shelf in his bedroom closet—way in the back, where he wouldn’t have to look at it until it was time to return it, and flopped onto the bed that Becca hadn’t bothered to make. The bed that still smelled like her and their recent coupling. The bed he would never be able to sleep in again without thinking of her and all the things they’d shared together.

And not just the sex things, either. Everything else, too. The fun they always had together. The way they were so comfortable together. How they could say anything to each other without fear that the things said would be misconstrued or used as a weapon.

And he thought about what Dorcas had said, too, and tried to make better sense of it. Not that the sense he made was better in any way. He’d liked it more when he was confused and befuddled and none too sure about what was going on. Now that he was mulling things over and figuring out what was what, he felt like crap.

Becca didn’t love him. Becca had never loved him. If Dorcas had never planted that posthypnotic suggestion in Becca’s brain, she and Turner never would have created the sparks they’d been creating together. They’d still be just friends. Well, Becca would still be just friends. And Turner would still be carrying a torch for her that was in no danger of ever going out.

Now they might not even be friends again, he realized. Once Becca knew what was going on, once she realized the real reason she’d been behaving the way she’d been behaving, she was going to feel pretty embarrassed. Worse than embarrassed. Horrified. She might never want to see him again once she knew the truth. He might lose her for good.

How was he going to explain this to her? Because he
was
going to have to explain this to her. She’d have to go back to see Dorcas so that the hypnotherapist could rehypnotize her and excise the posthypnotic suggestion that had her jumping into his arms every time she heard the word
underwear
. Right? He had to tell Becca the truth because that would be the moral, ethical, decent thing to do. Right? That’s what a friend would do. Right?

He actually had to pause a minute to think about that. Maybe…

Maybe nothing, he told himself. What the hell was he thinking, wanting to keep Becca under the influence just so she’d keep making love with him? Had he really sunk so low?

We-ell…

He had to tell her, he insisted to himself again. And he had to do it as soon as possible. Tonight. He had to tell her tonight. Instead of proposing to her, he’d tell her what had really happened in the hypnotherapist’s office that day. That had they not seen Dorcas, they’d still be going along with their usual lives, being friends, not lovers. It was only through hypnotherapy that she’d found something more in him to respond to than she had before. It certainly hadn’t been because she was in love with him.

Oh, but, hey, on the upside, maybe they could try hypnotherapy with Dorcas again to quit smoking and have it work this time….

Small comfort, he thought. Hell, no comfort. All that mattered was that he and Becca wouldn’t be making love anymore. And once she realized what had been going on, she’d probably never want to see Turner again. It would be too awkward. Too weird. This was going to ruin their
friendship for good. But then, after having experienced with Becca what he had over the past month, he didn’t think he could go back to being friends again, either. Not the way it had been with them before. Now that he knew what he’d be missing, now that he’d experienced for himself just how amazingly good it could be with her, it would be impossible for him to be around her for any length of time and not start wanting her—badly—again.

She wouldn’t want to be his friend, because she’d be too embarrassed. And he wouldn’t want to be hers, because he was too much in love.

Damn, he thought as he stared blindly up at the ceiling and saw nothing. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

B
ECCA WAS FRESH OUT OF
the shower, wrapped in a flowered silk robe and towel-drying her hair when she heard her doorbell ring. She smiled. Turner. She just knew it was him. It was weird, but lately, she felt as though she could sense him whenever he came within fifty feet of her. She’d become that in tune with him.

She still marveled at how their friendship had slipped into so much more over the past few weeks, but she couldn’t help wondering now why she had resisted him for so long. She’d been so afraid sex would complicate everything in their friendship and mess it all up, but sex had just made everything even better. It was amazing how much better. She and Turner together were like magic. When they made love, it was as if someone had choreographed the act for them, as if they were performing an intimate duet the steps of which they knew by heart. There was no awkwardness, no fear, no worry. They were just naturals together.

Which wasn’t to say that the sex had been predictable or unvarying or overly comfortable. On the contrary, she’d never realized how adventurous and insatiable she could be when it came to sex. But whenever she was around Turner for any length of time, she just couldn’t resist him.

Resist him?
she echoed to herself, biting back a chuckle. Man, she was all over him. Never in her life had she been so eager to initiate sex with a man the way she was with Turner. She wasn’t sure what had finally opened her eyes, but she never wanted to go back to being just friends with him again. Because now she realized what she felt for him was so much more than friendship. What she felt for him was—

Well. Too new for her to really voice it just yet, even to herself. But it was something special. And it was something that would last forever. For now, though, she would keep it to herself.

This new direction into which their relationship had moved felt too right, too perfect to mess with it. She was even beginning to think in terms of making it permanent, it was that good. The thought of spending the rest of her life with Turner seemed so obvious, so logical. Not that she hadn’t planned to spend the rest of her life with him in the first place, but she’d always figured that someday the two of them would meet people and marry and go their separate ways in that regard. They could still see each other with their spouses. Maybe even someday their kids would be friends. Now, though, she saw how ridiculous such an idea was. How she and Turner could ever commit to anyone besides each other was laughable in the extreme. The two of them were too great together, in every way that mattered, for them to be apart. Weird how it had taken her so long to realize that.

Out of habit, she peered through the peephole before opening the door, and saw Turner standing on the other side. Evidently he was too impatient to wait for her to come back to his place, impetuous boy that he was. Though the fish-eye lens distorted his appearance, she could make out his attire of blue jeans, hooded black sweatshirt and the disreputable-looking denim jacket he often wore. Clearly, he was planning for an evening in. Which, of course, was fine with Becca. She didn’t have any big desire to go out anywhere. And not just because of the weather, either, she realized with a smile. Staying in on a snowy night with Turner sounded like quite a delectable way to pass the time. Maybe they’d get lucky and the power would go out, and they’d have to stay very, very close in order to keep warm.

As if they needed a power outage to do that.

She slung her towel over her shoulder with one hand as she opened the door with the other. She was smiling, leaning forward to give him a kiss hello, but the expression on his face stopped her before she even got started. He looked like a man who’d just lost his best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her smile falling.

“We need to talk,” he said without preamble. Or without greeting, for that matter.

She stepped to the side in a silent invitation for him to enter, but he didn’t move an inch from where he stood. He only continued to stand with his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans, scowling. Unbidden, an eerie chill seeped into Becca’s belly.

“Aren’t you going to come in?” she asked.

For a moment, he continued to just stand there, gazing at her in a way that only compounded the chilliness inside
her. Finally, though, he shook his head. “I can’t stay,” he replied quietly.

“Why not?” she demanded. Not that they’d made any firm plans for the evening, but it was pretty much a given that they’d spend the weekend together. And if he couldn’t stay, then why had he come in the first place? Especially in weather like this? If he needed to tell her something, he could have picked up the phone and called her.

Instead of answering her question, Turner asked one of his own. “Remember when we went to see the hypnotherapist? Dorcas Upton?”

Becca nodded. “Sure. It was only a few weeks ago.”

“Well, I ran into her today downtown,” he stated.

“So that’s where you ran off to,” Becca said. “Why did you need to go downtown?”

Instead of answering that question, either, Turner continued. “Dorcas asked me something really weird, and I couldn’t figure out why, and then one thing led to another, and—” He halted abruptly, his gaze glancing off of Becca’s face now to focus on something over her left shoulder. “And she told me something that you need to know about, too.”