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“Negative. I might have some toenail clippers in my duffel.”
Toenail clippers? What the fuck? Three hours wasn’t all that long to sit on the floor in a big itchy dress. She might be uncomfortable but she wouldn’t die. Sean set his glass on his knee and stared hard into Lexie’s big blue eyes. He used the kind of hard stare that intimidated defensemen on the ice and sent little dogs scurrying from the room.
The corners of her red lips turned up like she didn’t notice. Her smile looked kind of pouty, or maybe it was just her full lips. He’d been wrong about Lexie Kowalsky; she hadn’t been photoshopped at all. At the moment, she wore too much makeup, probably due to her aborted television appearance, but it didn’t matter. She was beautiful. She was real. She was sitting in front of him like she’d been dipped in whipping cream. Her father wasn’t his biggest fan, and she was asking him to undress her.
“Thanks, Sean,” she said as if he’d agreed.
Like she didn’t have a clue who he was.
“You’re a sweetheart.”
He lifted his gaze from her mouth to her eyes again. Her clueless blue eyes. She didn’t recognize him at all, and he smiled. Maybe if he’d had a clearer head, he would have told her right then and there. Maybe his smile wouldn’t have turned into a silent chuckle if he hadn’t felt a reprieve from the possible showdown with Coach Kowalsky.
She scooted herself until she was on her knees and presented him her back. A mass of blond curls fell to the middle of her back, and she slid a hand behind her neck and pulled them to one side. “I appreciate your help.”
The back of the headset rested against smooth skin, and she smelled like expensive perfume. Tiny buttons closed the back of the dress, starting between her shoulder blades and running down her spine to somewhere below her behind. Everything about her looked soft. From her hair and skin and eyelashes, to the smile she gave him over one shoulder.
“Sorry I don’t have a buttonhook.”
Sean couldn’t remember a time he’d ever undressed a woman without taking her to bed. He shoved his cup in the cup holder between the seats and raised his hands to the first button. It slipped through his fingers, and his knuckles brushed her skin. He tried again with the same results, but the third time, he managed to pinch the little button through the loop.
She was beautiful and soft. She was chaos and madness. She was a real pain in the ass. The second button was more difficult than the first, and he swore beneath his breath as he pinched hard.
“I know I’m a pain in the ass,” she said; apparently his aggravation had been picked up by the mic at the side of his mouth. “Sometimes.”
Through the earphones, Jimmy chuckled as if he agreed. “How’d you end up on Gettin’ Hitched, Lex?” the pilot asked. “I was surprised to see you on that show. I just never figured you for a woman desperate to get married.”
“I’m not.”
Sean’s fingers were too big and he fumbled with the third button. He looked down the long row of all those slippery buttons and tiny loops and wondered if he should just rip the dress down the back.
“I tried out for the show because I thought it would be great free publicity for my business. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” She shook her head, and a curl escaped her hand and fell down her back. “I needed to do something big. Something to increase my brand and get greater exposure.” Sean picked up the lock of her blond hair to move it out of the way. “Yum Yum’s Closet is online retail only,” Lexie continued, “and can’t compete with big retail chains. I plan to open my first retail store in Bellevue near the mall and I needed to get the word out.”
Sean stilled as her soft hair fell across the back of his hand once more. Yum Yum’s Closet? Sounded like a sex shop to him. Like Naughty by Nature or Frisky Business or Cox in a Box.
“Did it work?” the pilot wanted to know.
“Ten minutes after the first episode aired, my Web site got sixty hits per thirty seconds and crashed. Online sales are up fifty-eight percent in just three months. Most of my Fabulous FiFi line is sold out.”
Fabulous FiFi?
“I never knew pet stores were so dog-eat-dog.” Jimmy laughed at his own pun.
For reasons unknown to Sean, disappointment lowered his brows as he pushed her hair aside once more. “You own a pet store?”
She looked over her shoulder and her blue eyes gazed up into his. “I manufacture and sell animal couture.”
“You sell dog clothes.” It was more a statement of disbelief than anything. Sean had an aversion to yappy dogs. Especially yappy dogs in leather jackets and biker hats.
“Yes, but I’ve expanded the business to include toys and beds and safety items.” She shrugged one bare shoulder, and the lock of hair fell down her back again. “Most anything an animal might need.”
“Animals don’t need clothes,” he pointed out, and brushed the curl aside again. It got stuck on some rhinestones or crystals or whatever and stayed there.
“They don’t need special parks and condos, either, but I never hear anyone badmouthing dog parks and cat condos.”
“Don’t get Lexie started about dogs,” Jimmy warned.
Sean tugged and pinched and managed to get the fourth and fifth buttons through the little loops. The silk fabric parted and a red imprint from the tight dress creased her flesh. He brushed his thumb across the welt on her perfect skin. He’d probably been a real tool for thinking she should stay in an uncomfortable dress that pinched her skin for the next three hours.
