Real Romance - By Ginny Baird Page 0,15

just getting started."

Boy, didn't she know it. Getting started all over again. Getting ready to fall right into his two masculine arms.

"Here," she said, stepping away so he couldn't touch her and stooping at the edge of the blanket. "Let me help you with this."

David ran his hands through his hair, trying to think of what to do next. Picking up the blanket? No way. This was not supposed to be happening, now that he wanted to take her in his arms and tumble her to the ground.

David stood by helplessly as Marie tugged the blanket out from under his feet and folded it neatly.

"Ready?" she asked, giving him a pleasant smile he thought better suited to one of her story hour attendees.

"Ready," he said, somehow imagining that the ride going home wouldn't be nearly as exciting as the one coming out here.

David stuffed another potato chip in his mouth as Caroline leaned a hip against his cluttered desk. Her little girl did have the chicken pox. And, because she was going to be mostly at home for the next two weeks, Caroline felt the need to come in for an hour to give David all the necessary instructions.

"Don't know what I did wrong," he said, between gobbles. "I mean, I thought you women were really into that romance stuff."

"We are," Caroline said with an indulgent half smile. "But not, maybe, if you fellows come on too fast."

"Too fast? This thing has been moving so slowly I swear I can hear those wheels scrape the pavement every time I see her!"

"Come now, David. Really, what's it been? One week?"

Caroline kicked off her heels and breathed an audible sigh of relief.

David perched a handful of chips in front of his mouth and paused.

"About that, I guess. But Caroline, you know how it is. Usually the girls are all over me!"

Caroline gave a hearty laugh, inched backwards and settled her rear on his desk.

"Kind of gets to your ego, huh?" she asked, swinging her legs freely as she sat there making a study of him.

But it wasn't his ego, really. It was something more like an itch. An itch he couldn't scratch and it was driving him crazy.

"I can't take it, Caroline!" he said, heaving himself forward and pounding his fists on either side of his head as it collapsed to the desk. "I'm not that strong a man!"

"Oh now, honey," she said, running her affectionate fingers through his hair, "from where I sit, you are made of steel."

David heard a nervous cough and looked up to find a startled Marie standing in the threshold to the back room.

"I just came..." she trailed off weakly, her face turning pink. She held up a bent pair of turquoise frames, apparently almost unable to finish. "...to redeem my unconditional guarantee."

"Slow down there a minute, child," Joanne said as Marie wheezed into the ladies' room sink. "I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Don't you see? I bent my frames on purpose. On purpose, Joanne! Just because I got to thinking I'd made a big mistake..."

She burst into sobs again and honked into a tissue.

"Made of steel! I swear, I'll never forget that woman's face as long as I live."

"Honey," Joanne said, lightly rubbing her back, "Don't you think it's possible you got it all wrong?"

"Wrong?" Marly snorted. "I don't think so. She was half naked, for heavens' sake!"

Joanne narrowed her eyes.

"Well, she'd already kicked off her shoes..."

Joanne hefted her large leather purse onto the counter. "You're going to be a mess introducing that touring book author. A real mess. Here," she said, her arm disappearing into her cavernous bag. "Let me see if I've got something in here that can help you."

"Joanne," Marie said sternly, lowering her slightly crooked glasses. "If it's one of those psychedelic drugs from the sixties..."

Joanne laughed and produced a roll of hard candies.

"Lemon or cherry?" she asked with a subtle smile.

Marie popped a cherry candy in her mouth and wished that all the men in the world were as easy to deal with as Joanne. She blew her nose again, then cleared her throat.

"So, how are things going with Chad?" she asked, surveying her ghastly reflection in the mirror. She'd have to redo the blush and the lipstick for sure, she thought, fumbling through her own pocketbook.

"Oh, honey, don't you worry about me and Chad. That old gray fox and I have an understanding."

"Oh?" Marie asked, applying a dab of lipstick.

"Yeah," Joanne said, her dark eyes twinkling. "He understands what