It Happened in L.A.

Chapter 12

CHILI’S WAS BUSY, as usual, and the dinner crowd was noisy, still Gwen and Holly had scored a relatively quiet corner booth. It had been too long since the two of them had spent any quality time together. No games, no movies, no work to discuss. Just Gwen’s best friend and some good chow.

“I’m having the ribs.” Holly put down her menu and shoved it to the middle of the table. “I shouldn’t have ribs, but I am. With fries. And a beer.”

“I understand completely.” Gwen looked for their waitress, who was nowhere to be seen. “I’ve had too much popcorn and beer lately. So it’s a salad and water for me.”

“Well, I don’t have a man to get naked for.” Holly sighed. “I’d totally have salad if it would mean I could order someone like Paul off the menu.”

“I’m not getting naked.”

Holly’s look of shock was like something from a cartoon. “You’re not? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong. We’re just taking it slowly.”

“Excuse me, but you’re completely insane. Have you looked at him?”

Gwen nodded, wishing they’d at least gotten their beverages before this subject had come up. “I have. Quite a lot, actually.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“That’s just it. There is no problem that I can see, except for the very obvious. It’s a doozy, so, I’m taking my time.”

“Obvious to whom? What the hell are you talking about?”

Only one thing was more uncomfortable for Gwen than talking about her sex life, and that was talking about the glaring disparity between her and Paul. “Despite his love of baseball and horror flicks, his world and mine are in different universes. Remember, right after the anniversary party? We talked about this? You said, if I’m remembering correctly, which I am, that it must be nice to live in the world of plastic surgery and paparazzi, as long as one didn’t have many brain cells?”

“That was before I knew him. He’s not the airhead I thought he’d be.”

“Yeah, I know. But the world he lives in is filled with them. It’s a place I have no interest in.”

The waitress showed up and they ordered.

Holly shifted in her seat.

It struck Gwen how attractive her friend was. Her curly hair framed her face perfectly, her lips were full and her wide eyes sparked with intelligence and humor. But Gwen would bet a paycheck that no one at The Ivy would look twice at her because she wasn’t a traditional beauty.

“Paul doesn’t seem to have a problem coming to you. He’s loving it. You’re exactly what the man needed. Even I can see he looks happier.”

“He asked me to go with him tonight, to a dinner at The Ivy. He was meeting some clients. Show business people. He hated that I said no, but what would I do there? I have nothing in common with those people.” And yet, she was jealous. She assumed he’d taken someone else. Someone who fit right in. Someone like Autumn. Or maybe it was Autumn. She shivered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She would not go there. Not ever again.

“You have Paul,” Holly said.

It took a moment for Gwen to remember the flow of the conversation.

“You admire his business sense, so there’s that. And who knows. He surprised us both. Who’s to say we haven’t been the ones who have it all wrong? What if there are other terrific, smart, insightful people who just happen to be gorgeous?”

“I don’t believe many of them just happen to be gorgeous. I think they work very, very hard at it. I know my sisters do.” She thought again about Autumn, but refused to dwell. “Good God, it’s practically all they can talk about. Working out obsessively, spending all their money on spas and clothes. The only reason they work at all is to finance their addictions.”

Holly snorted just as their drinks arrived. She poured her beer, all the while shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but your family can’t be representative. I’ve never met people more obsessed with looks. God, they’re impossible.”

“That’s just it. They are. Between them all, they’ve injected enough collagen to float a ship.”

“Honey, none of them hold a candle to you. You know that, right? Kudos to Paul for being smart enough to see who you are. A man like that isn’t to be sneezed at. He clearly wants more in his life than Malibu Barbie.”

Gwen wanted to believe it was that simple. “I agree. It’s great when he’s with us. It won’t be like that if I go to his world. They’ll all wonder what he’s doing with a woman like me. They won’t care about what we have in common, or that we have such fun together. They’ll judge him, and he won’t come out favorably. How can I do that to him? His work is all about keeping up appearances.”

“Why do you think he’d give a rat’s ass?”

“Even if he doesn’t now, he will eventually. He’s been that beautiful all his life, Holly. That’s what he knows. I just don’t think I could stand to watch him be humiliated. It would kill me.”

Holly put her hand on Gwen’s. “Look, I’m not discounting what you said, or even denying there’s some truth in it. Still, I don’t think you’re giving the man the credit he deserves. You’re projecting like mad.”

Gwen’s first instinct was to dismiss Holly’s words. She was a friend and a romantic. Of course she wanted a happy ending. Maybe, though, Gwen was underestimating Paul’s strength. She had to admit, he’d surprised her in a hundred ways, why not this?

On the other hand, she’d watched him at the bar, at the ballpark. He used his looks to get what he wanted. It wasn’t intentional, rather instinctual. He was used to being fawned over, having the world handed to him on a platter.

Was it possible even with his best intentions to overcome a lifetime of conditioning?

“I know that look,” Holly said. “You’re thinking too damn much. Here’s an idea—what if you just pretend you can’t see the future? What if you try to be with him as if it’s exactly what both of you should be doing? Let yourself be surprised by what comes next. The worst that can happen is it won’t work out. Give it a chance. He deserves that, and so do you.”

Gwen tucked into her salad. Could Holly be right? Was she simply projecting her worst fears, and would that cause her to miss out on a chance for real happiness? The hell with the diet. She called over the waitress and ordered a glass of wine.

PAUL WHIPPED OUT the flowers he’d been hiding behind his back. Gwen’s mouth opened in a big O that turned into a smile so great it made his whole week better.

“What’s this for?” she asked, taking the bouquet of white and rust calla lilies. “They’re amazing. How did you know these were my favorite flowers?”

He walked inside feeling pretty awesome. “I didn’t. Not for sure, anyway. I knew you liked them because you have that picture in the bathroom.”

She kissed him before she shut the door. “Thank you. Come with me into the kitchen so I can put them in water.”

He obeyed, happily, thinking he wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee. Something that would wake him up. He’d spent all afternoon at Dodger Stadium with a group of producers and directors from the DIY shows he repped. Even though he had three of his people there, it had still been exhausting, and he’d missed most of the game. But the party had gotten them all in one room and they’d agreed to go in together on his year-long promo plans that would cover TV, print and special events.

He’d rather have been alone with Gwen. He’d even have settled for her joining the group, but she’d said she had other things to do.

He sat down on a stool by the bar and watched as she fussed over the flowers. He didn’t actually care how they ended up, just that she was happy.

“They’re stunning. I love them.” She turned to look at him. Her smile faded a bit. “You look exhausted. You want to skip tonight?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

She seemed relieved. “Okay. Wine? Beer? Coffee?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“Won’t take me two seconds.” She turned to the cupboard and took out a tiny little coffeemaker, one that made a single cup. She had a little grinder right next to it and in no time the scent of coffee filled the space.

“What else? Did you eat all afternoon, or were you too busy working it?”

“I ate, I think. Nothing too fancy, but really, coffee’s all I can handle for the moment. Don’t worry, though. After a cup, I’ll be ready to go. We can dine anywhere you like.”

“Hmm,” she said, “I was thinking we might just stay here. Watch a little TV maybe, or I don’t know. Perhaps we can find some other way to occupy the evening.”

That woke him right up, although he doubted she meant what he hoped she meant. “Here is good. Here is very good.”

“I’m glad.” She got out some half-and-half, and brought it to him, along with a spoon, a napkin and a white ceramic bowl of sugar.

Paul tried to read her, to see if there was even a remote possibility she’d meant more than watching TV. Her smile was enigmatic, which wasn’t unusual. She was always enigmatic.

She’d worn her hair down and soft, begging to be touched. She had on this really silky-looking blouse, light green that went with her eyes. Shit. She was barefoot under her loose-fitting pants. And her toenails were painted, something light and feminine.

She coughed, making him look up at her face. “I can put on shoes if you like.”

“No. No, no. I like bare feet. Not that I have a fetish about them or anything. I mean, feet are feet, but it’s nice when they look so pretty and…You’re laughing at me.”

“Yes, I am. In a good way.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, thinking it would be really great to take a long, hot shower. Instead, he fixed his cup of coffee and watched her putter. That was enough.

“I had a busy day, myself.” Gwen rinsed out the coffeemaker and brewed another cup. “I shopped and got all my veggies together for the week. Very noble. Then I looked for towels and ended up spending a small fortune on tchotchkes I don’t need.”

“For example?”

“A watering can. Not that they’re unnecessary, but I already have a perfectly fine can.”

“What enticed you to buy this one?”

She knelt by the cupboard under the sink and took out a funny-looking blue thing that had a long curved spout. “How could I resist?”

“I have no idea. I’m shocked it was still on the shelf.”

“Ah, so now you’re laughing at me.”

“Yes,” he repeated. “I am.”

“In a good way.”

“Always.”

“So movies, yes?” she asked. “Shall I make popcorn?”

“Movies, yes. Only make the popcorn if you want it. I guess I ate more at the park than I thought.”

“No. We can just veg, and watch anything you like.”

“Shall we move to the couch?”

The enigmatic smile returned. “Actually, I was thinking we could watch in my bedroom.”

“Bedroom?”

“I have a great TV there.”

He was glad he’d put his mug down or he’d have dropped it. He’d been amazingly restrained about the whole sex thing, figuring she’d let him know when it was time. What he didn’t know, not for sure, was if this was the signal. Any other woman he’d known, he wouldn’t have had to think twice. Gwen was harder to read.

“If you don’t want to, the couch is fine.”

“No. I’d like to watch TV wherever you’re comfortable. ”

She came over to the bar across from him. “If by watch TV you mean make love, then I’d be comfortable.”

He stood. “I can do that. I can do that just fine.”

She grinned. “You can finish your coffee.”

He smiled back. “I’m done. Great coffee. Seriously, best I’ve ever had.”

She laughed.

He followed her, not ashamed that he kept far enough back that he could watch her ass the whole way. Now he wished her blouse wasn’t so long. Damn, he hadn’t considered this was an option. Thankfully, he’d replaced the condom in his wallet. Too bad he hadn’t brought two. Funny how he didn’t feel tired anymore. He still could use that shower, though.

She led him down a small hallway that had some nice black-and-white pictures on the wall, then to her bedroom. The king-size bed, covered in a purple comforter, was done up girl style with more pillows than he’d ever understand. But nice. There was a major flat-screen TV on the opposite wall, and near the window next to an antique dresser was an armchair and a brass reading lamp.

Then he noticed a champagne bucket set up by the bed. He went to investigate, but there was no actual champagne. Just a couple of Heineken beers and a couple of water bottles in ice. “Hmm,” he said, “should I be insulted?”

“Why?”

“You seem pretty confident I was a sure thing.”

She came up to him and touched the back of his neck with her hand. Looking into his eyes, her own alight with a mixture of heat and laughter, she nodded. “Reasonably confident,” she whispered, just before she kissed him.

They’d kissed a lot since that night on the couch, but this was different. It was a prelude, and that changed everything. Just because he hadn’t pushed her didn’t mean he hadn’t wanted to. It was a whole new thing with Gwen, kind of like reading that damn book. Who knew literary fiction could be foreplay?

He kissed her back, not wanting to go too fast. There was still the shower to deal with before he could let himself splurge.

She pulled back. “What?”

He gave her a sorry look. “How would you feel about me using your shower?”

“I’d feel just fine about it.”

“Good. How about now?”

Again, she nodded. “Come on. It’s not far.”

The bathroom was white and purple, just like her bedroom. Everything looked soft. The towels, the bath mat. She had candles in there, and he could see she used them. Also a big boom box with a stack of CDs next to it. “You like to take baths, eh?”

“My favorite escape.”

“Maybe you’d like to escape in the shower with me?”

“I could be persuaded.”

He pulled her into his arms. “Please,” he said, just before he kissed her, this time with more abandon. Shower sex, with the right accessories, could be a very good thing.

She took her time kissing him back. Before she stopped, her hands reached between them and she started to undo her buttons.

Being a gentleman, he lent a hand, trying to decide if he should stop to watch her strip or just keep on kissing.

Watching won.

He stepped back, working on his own clothes as he witnessed her unveiling. They’d been in such a rush last time that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate her body.

She was slender, but thankfully not as painfully thin as so many of the women he knew. She even had a little pooch of a tummy that was so sexy he wanted to get down on his knees and kiss it all over.

Her little pussy was trimmed, but not bare, something else that wasn’t the fashion, but that, too, appealed to him. Hell, everything about her did.

By the time he’d kicked off his shoes and undone his pants, he was hard. Before he let his jeans go, though, he took out his wallet.

“Wait,” she said. “I was a good Scout and bought some of those.” Naked and beautiful, she went to one of the drawers where she pulled a packet out of a box. “See?”

“I’ll give you your merit badge when we’re under the water.”

She saluted him, then crossed to the glass-enclosed shower and turned it on. When she looked back, he was ready, his clothes shoved unceremoniously to the side.

She took his hand and they went inside. There was simply no choice, he had to feel her naked and wet. Her body felt amazing, so slick and soft. He explored her with his hands, his eyes, with all the skin he could press against her. She was doing the same thing to him, and it made his cock stiffen further when she grabbed his behind.

After an experiment to see how long they could hold their breaths under the spray, she grabbed the soap and a purple cloth. She built up the lather and then she washed him. It was unreal to just feel her patiently, carefully wash him from his neck to his chest and back. Then she moved down, holding his cock with one hand and using her other hand to bathe him, only for this part the cloth magically vanished and it was skin on skin.

His moan echoed in the shower, and her laugh, as soft as her fingers, swirled around him in the wet. She didn’t miss anything, but it was hard to keep still as she left the lower middle section to concentrate on his legs.

He’d really liked that whole lower middle section.

He touched her wet hair as she knelt before him, then it dawned on him that he could do something wonderful for her. He grabbed the shampoo from her silver tray and poured some on his hands before he applied it to her hair.

Knowing how much he loved to be shampooed, he took his time. When she gave up caring if his feet were clean, he drew her up and around, so her back was to him. Since the top of her head reached his chin, it was easy to give her the spa treatment. Now it was her moans and his laughter, and it was all good.

When she was pretty much a damp rag in his arms, he got the spray nozzle and rinsed her so she wouldn’t get soap in her eyes. Then he went for the conditioner. Not for her hair so much as for its off-label use. He knew the stuff worked—gentle enough that it wouldn’t hurt her. His fingers went down to her pussy, where he took his sweet time getting her ready.

When the moans grew urgent and she had to hang on to him to keep upright, he tore open the condom and slipped it on. Damn thing. He wished he didn’t have to use it, but even so, it was more than he could have hoped for.

She kissed his chest and flicked his nipples with the point of her tongue while he adjusted the spray nozzle to hit the side of the shower, high up on the wall. Once his attention returned to her, he licked the moisture off her neck as he steered her toward the warm water spray.

Her gasp told him it was still cold for her up against the glass. Not that she seemed to mind. He took her hands in his, lifting them, pinning them up above her head.

Using his body as a chamois, he rubbed against her, teasing himself with intermittent brushes of his cock against her skin. He wanted this to last, but not enough to stop. She felt too amazing and, Christ, looking at her with the water running down her hair, her ragged breathing as he kept her arms still and high, he whispered, “This is going to be fast and hard. Later is for making love. Now, I want to be inside you so badly I can’t…”

It didn’t seem to matter that he couldn’t find the words.

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