on me.”
“Fine,” I said. “Fifteen minutes, OK?” Enough time for a quick shower, almond-scented lotion rubbed all over my body, taking a bit of time for once to enjoy the feeling of that, and makeup that would look like I wasn’t wearing any. And, I hoped, enough time to find something to wear that said, “What, this? I just threw it on. Not my fault if I’m too sexy for you to resist.”
Yeh, right.
44
Flowers and Wine
Gray
At six-thirty exactly, I walked up the ramp to the yurt and found Mum out there playing a game of cards with Oriana. War, it looked like, about the easiest game there was. Easing Oriana into a life of worldly decadence, then.
I said, “Hi.” I was feeling oddly nervous, even though it was my own house, even though I’d been on more first dates than … well, than anybody other than a rugby player would dream possible.
“Hi,” Oriana said. “Frankie’s helping Daisy get ready. I’m not sure they’re quite finished yet. Do you want me to go and check?”
“Yeh,” I said. “Thanks.”
She went inside, and Mum set down her cards and said, “You look very nice, love. Come give me a kiss.” When I did, she put her hand on my cheek and said, “Just shaved, eh, and you smell good, too. Made an effort. That’s good to see.”
“I generally do clean up before I take a woman out,” I felt compelled to point out. “Oddly, they don’t find rugby shorts, jandals, and my unwashed self particularly appealing.”
She smiled, but it wasn’t actually terrible to know that my jeans and collared white shirt looked acceptable. “Where are you taking her?” she asked. “I think she was a bit disappointed that it wasn’t a more flash date.”
“We’ll have to see whether I can change her mind,” I said, and that was my mood spiking again.
Then the door opened, and Daisy came out. Drawing her fingers through the top of her tousled hair and pushing it back in the way of beautiful women everywhere. Wearing a pair of slim-cut navy trousers with a line of three buttons at each side and looking like no sailor ever, not with all that hair, not with the snug trousers clinging to her pretty legs, and not in a filmy white blouse with the top four buttons unbuttoned, over something that didn’t look very substantial at all. Some sort of little strapless undergarment, I was guessing, and there wasn’t a bra under there. I could tell it. I could all but feel it. The blouse was tucked loosely into the trousers, letting me see her hips and bum, and she was wearing wedge sandals that made her walk with that sway that made your heart stop.
Well, yeh. All of it worked for me. I leaned over, put a hand on her waist, and brushed a kiss onto her full lips, and she smelled like something baking in the oven, warm and sweet. She leaned into me the least little bit—those heels, probably, tipping her that delicious bit off-balance—kissed me back, put a hand on my shoulder, which I’d noticed she enjoyed doing, smiled up at me, and said, “You look great.”
“So do you,” I said, and meant it.
“Is this what you had in mind, then?” she asked. “What I’m wearing?”
“No,” I said. “It’s better. We’ll take the Mustang. Up our game, eh.”
“Oh, let’s,” she said. “I’ve been wanting to see how you drive it.”
“How would he drive it any differently from the truck?” Frankie asked.
“Never mind,” Daisy said. “He just will.”
I said, “Those cameras are all set up, Mum, and the gate’s wired to the alarm as well. I’ve written down the combination for all of you.” I reached into my back pocket for my spiral notebook, and I’d swear that Daisy liked watching me do it.
How could you be this aware of a person, even with three other women around? Including your mother? It was like there was a current humming between us. I could feel it there. I could very nearly touch it, and I had a feeling that when I finally did, it was going to burn. I ripped off the piece of paper, handed it to Mum, and said, with the last of my composure, “I left Xena in the house. She’s pretty brokenhearted about it. You could go get her, maybe, once I’m gone. Set the alarm for the house tonight, would you? The girls can sleep there, too, if they’d rather. If Daisy and I