Flirting with Temptation - By Kelley St. John Page 0,30
stung.
“That woman in the Jag,” Babette finally said, removing her sandals and opting to carry them, primarily to keep her hands occupied. For some reason, she had the wild impulse to fist them. “She’s with Jeff?”
“You’ll see in a minute.”
“How’s that?”
“His balcony, silly. And all those windows. I swear the boy should really use some privacy every now and then.” She paused. “But I do enjoy looking.”
“Rose!”
Grabbing her shawl at her chest, Rose shrugged. “I haven’t seen anything beyond kisses, and I’m mainly just trying to get him to quit.” She walked a little faster, scooting her black thick-soled shoes along the sandy wooden planks of the walkway that provided beach access. “He hasn’t got any business seeing so many females. I told him.”
“What did you tell him?” Babette walked beside the woman who had proven, once again, to be an endless fountain of knowledge regarding all things Jeff Eubanks. Rose really cared about Jeff, and Jeff had an affinity toward the older woman too. He’d told Babette as much on several occasions way back when. His own grandparents had passed on when he was young, and Babette suspected that Rose Nettles was the Granny Gert he never had.
All of them. Why did that bother her so much, after all this time?
“I told him that he didn’t need the poodle and that he should get over her anyway.”
Rose’s comment took Babette’s attention off how thoroughly Jeff had moved on.
“The poodle?”
“Poodle, kitty, whatever. Always reminded me of one of those show dogs, pretty to look at and able to strut, but no spunk to complete the package.”
Babette laughed. Kitty would undeniably have issues with an eighty-plus woman spying on her when she was with Jeff and then referring to her as a real bitch.
“And I told him he needed to get back with the one he should’ve stayed with in the first place.” Rose pointed to Babette, and Babette knew better than to argue. “And then I told him that if he was actually sleeping with all of those floozies that I see on his balcony every night that he better be using protection. And then I bought him some, to make sure he did.”
“You—what?”
“Bought him some. I admit that I had a little fun with it, considering I went to the same pharmacy that fills my water pills. You should have seen the look on that young pharmacist’s face when I picked up my regular prescription and a case of condoms. Did you know they come in flavors now? And you can get different colors too. They’ve even got a camouflage one, and you know what it says on the outside?”
Babette was speechless, so she merely shook her head.
“So they can’t see you coming,” Rose said, then her cheeks flushed and she giggled. “Get it?”
“You bought Jeff condoms,” Babette said disbelievingly. She only wished she could have seen his gorgeous face when Rose presented him with her gift. “What did he say when you gave them to him?”
“Well, he said thank you, of course. He’s a polite boy, after all.”
“Rose, he’s thirty-eight.”
“Like I said, a polite boy.”
The thought of Rose presenting Jeff with condoms—a case of them—was hysterical. Laughing, Babette stepped off the end of the ramp to the beach, but her feet had barely sunk into the warmth of the sand before Rose grabbed her arm and yanked her off-balance, causing Babette’s calves to bank against the end of the walkway and her butt to drop to the sandy planks.
“Wait!” Rose said, her voice at an urgent whisper. “I wasn’t thinking. We need to go this way.” She pulled on Babette’s arm until Babette stood beside her, then she tugged Babette away from the walkway and into the shady area between the edge of the condominiums and a cluster of palm trees. “Under here.”
“Rose, what are you doing?” Babette asked, and to her shock, Rose put her palm over Babette’s mouth to shush her the same way Babette’s mother used to do in church, when she was talking too loud during the sermon. The scent of Rose’s lilac lotion suddenly overpowered Babette’s senses. It might have been pleasant if it wasn’t so solidly pressed against her airways. She moved away from the intrusive hand, then sputtered, “I have to breathe, Rose.”
“Shh, he’ll hear you.” Rose, looking every bit the elderly spy woman now, jerked her head to indicate the resort next door, or more specifically, the man lounging on his balcony.
“What”—Babette’s words stilled in her throat. It’d been a