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Obviously Monday was a Judy the Housekeeper Day.
I did the whole girlie thing, going overboard with full, wild Tawny Kitaen hair, the front pulled loosely back in a clip and dark makeup on my eyes. I put on the dress Stevie chose—black satin, thin strapped, skimming my body in a clingy, but not obvious, way, decent cleavage but the kicker was a killer dip in the back. I put on Rock Chick sandals—high, death-defying, thin heel with so many straps you had to wrap some of them up your calves. Subtle perfume. No jewelry because, in the heat of the moment, who wanted to waste time taking off jewelry?
It was getting late so I slid the au gratin potatoes in to cook. Even if Lee was really late, I could warm them easily enough when I broiled the steaks.
I found a John Grisham and started reading. I took the potatoes out and went back to reading. Then later, I got up and went to the kitchen, got my cell and Lee’s cordless and put them both on the coffee table so they were within easy reach and went back to reading. I settled on my side to get more comfortable and kept reading.
Then, being who I was and seeing as it was late, I fell asleep.
FIFTEEN
YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT PIE
My hair slid off my shoulder and fell down my back.
I opened my eyes and Lee was sitting on the couch in the cushion exposed above by my curled legs.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” he replied.
“You didn’t call,” I told him.
“It was late. I was worried I’d wake you.”
I got up on my elbow. “What time is it?”
“Comin’ on midnight.”
I did a mini-stretch and came up a bit more. As I was doing this, his hands found my waist and twisted me around onto his lap. My book fell to the floor, but neither of us went for it. He settled into the sofa and I settled into him, putting my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his middle. One of his arms was around my waist, the other hand resting above my knee.
“You planned dinner,” he said. “Is it ruined?”
“I made stuff that would fit into an uncertain schedule. We can have it tomorrow or I can make it tonight. You hungry?” I asked.
“Not for food.”
His hand slid up my thigh, taking the hem of my dress with it.
My stomach did a dip.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
“I was asleep,” I stated the obvious.
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Aren’tyoutired?”
“I was. I’m not anymore.”
“Oh.”
Yikes.
His hand came up more and his head bent so he could touch his mouth to my neck.
“How’s your man?” I asked.
