Something Borrowed

Yanking down the skirt as she stood, Marley prayed she’d kept her legs together during the show. Not that her panties, which were the only thing she was wearing that belonged to her, weren’t decent. Unlike her twin’s silk thongs, hers were of high-waisted cotton, bought two pairs for a dollar on the street in Chinatown. Careful not to make eye contact, she brushed past Cash, and then beelined toward an Exit sign over the door to the hallway, through which Trevor Milane had just vanished.

If only she could erase the memory of the past hour! Maybe she could just clunk herself on the head, she thought dryly as she hightailed after Trevor, and induce amnesia. Yes…she would refuse to dwell on the swollen feeling of her lips and the unwanted bereft sensation left in the wake of Cash’s kiss, not to mention the undeniable pang solicited by the absence of his mouth, or the weightless, falling feeling she’d been sure she’d never experience again.

“Oh, this is not good,” Marley whispered nervously. The last time she’d had this swooning feeling, her ex had been kissing her goodbye as she’d left for work. Or so she’d thought. Eleven hours later, she’d found the note that said he’d kissed her goodbye—forever. After taking the money from their joint accounts, he’d left for Key West to fulfill his lifelong ambition of living on a houseboat, a dream he’d somehow failed to mention to Marley before.

Still eyeing the Exit sign, she reminded herself that what Cash had forced her to experience was a mere bodily response to male stimuli. Cash’s lips had landed on hers, and sure, she’d shuddered. Her belly had warmed, her blood had quickened, her thighs had squeezed together and her breasts had tightened. But it meant nothing. This New Year’s, she’d sworn off men, but if a man did certain things, healthy women were bound to feel certain other things. Dabbing her upper lip, Marley wished hot sweats wasn’t one of them.

Fortunately, she was mature. Her divorce had left her hardened and more worldly. Men’s kisses could affect her body now, but not her mind. Never again would she let physical experiences sway her good judgment. Sure, immediately after Cash had kissed her, she’d said she’d remain on the show. And sure, to the viewers of America, it might have looked as if Cash had persuaded her with one stupid kiss.

But Marley had the power. She could easily have wrestled Cash to the floor with a headlock. Or kneed his groin. Oh, she really didn’t trust him. He was too pretty, superficial and slick. With those prominent cheekbones, thick black hair and straight nose, he looked like a model or a rock star. He wasn’t Marley’s type, and besides, he was her sister’s boyfriend, at least technically. And yes, maybe the word boyfriend was strong. Which was to the point. Marley had suspected this man’s motives. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she could tell Cash had some ulterior reason for dating Edie….

Barreling through the door, she entered the long hallway she’d traversed earlier, her legs teetering. Why she couldn’t walk in Edie’s high heels, she’d never know. Snowboarding was her favorite pastime, and she in-line skating down the West Side Highway at speeds that beat city traffic.

Run, run, run, her mind was screaming. But her ankles were wobbling. The stilettos were catching on the thick pile of the carpet. Unfortunately, most of the office doors were shut, and she needed to talk to Trevor. He’d know how to rectify this situation. She thought she’d glimpsed his nameplate at the far end of the hallway. She had to get off the show. There was no other alternative after that…

Kiss.

Her throat closed at the thought of the lip-lock that had made her workouts seem tame. Her head swam, and vaguely, she wondered if it had really been a year since she’d had sex. Heat had burned off her as Cash mushed his lips to hers, and she figured she must have lost at least a pound, maybe two. It had definitely been a calorie-burning sizzler. Even now, she could see those suntanned fingers curling around the armrests of her seat, trapping her. Just as she’d gasped, the scent of his skin had tunneled to her lungs, and a heartbeat later, the silken tip of his tongue had teased open her lips, wetting them….

But who was he, really? He’d scarcely touched Edie, which was one reason Marley didn’t trust him. Face it, men craved sex like air, and so Cash’s hands-off policy with Marley’s twin was suspicious. And he didn’t live in New York. Oh, he’d said he was from New Orleans, and he’d said he was helping a friend open a club, but Marley was convinced that the whole story wouldn’t hold water, not if she played armchair detective, made a few phone calls and checked him out. Maybe she’d do just that….

Suddenly, she squealed. “Ouch!” He’d grabbed her from behind, closing his fingers around her upper arm. “Let me go, Cash.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

Yeah, right. She’d smelled the clean male scent of him and heard the soft brush of his boot heels on the carpet. Somehow, she couldn’t force herself to turn around and face him, not yet. No heat in the man’s kisses? What had her twin been talking about? His every pore was leaking testosterone. “That’s the other thing,” Marley muttered hotly, hardly caring that she was continuing a monologue she’d been having in her head.

“What’s that?”

Wrenching her arm away, she whirled to face him. “I guess the rumors about southern men are true.”

His laugh shouldn’t have been annoying, but it was. “Which rumor? That we kiss to beat the band?”

“No, the rumor about having your way with women, regardless of their feelings. You have a pretty high opinion of yourself.”

“I hadn’t even started talking about myself yet.” Cash’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “Just my kisses.”

“They might not fly so well in Yankee territory,” she returned sweetly in her best southern accent, rapidly batting her eyelashes, a move that didn’t come naturally.

“I don’t see why we need to make this a North-South issue, since the Civil War was over a long time ago.”

“Ah. But was it really civil?”

“No war is,” he agreed.

Fortunately, she’d made it halfway to Trevor’s office, and now she reminded herself that, in just a moment, she’d be released from her obligation to the show, at least if she were lucky. Surely, they could start over tomorrow with the alternates. “Look. This isn’t what you think.”

The eyes drifting down every inch of her didn’t look convinced, but they did look curious. “No?”

This would shake him up. “I’m not Edie.”

She almost smiled, since she’d clearly unsettled him. Finally. With satisfaction, she watched his calm, cool, collected demeanor change, and she felt glad she was wearing Edie’s high heels. Now that she was standing still, the shoes made her tall enough to meet his liquid eyes.

As the seconds ticked on, however, she got uncomfortable again. She became overly conscious of people crowding into the hallway, the flicker of fluorescent lights and the shortness of her own breath. She became aware of other things, too, which she’d have preferred to ignore, such as how his well-worn jeans clung to lean hips and snuggled around the unmistakable rise beneath his zipper. The other male contestants had worn suits, but Cash had somehow stopped the reality-show staff from wrestling him out of his beloved jeans. She glanced around. Where were the other contestants, anyway? Had they exited by another doorway? And why wasn’t he saying anything?

When he finally did, he said, “You’re not Edie?”

She hated to disappoint him. Feeling a twinge of guilt, she rushed on. “Uh…I know I look like her tonight. I mean, with the blown-out hair and makeup.” She was even wearing panty hose. “But…” In mid-sentence, her mouth went dry again. He really was incredibly good-looking. Somehow, she managed to repeat, “Uh…no, I’m not Edie.”

He said the last thing expected. “Uh…no shit, Marley.”

Her heart fluttered. “You knew?” Oh, this made everything so much worse.

“Uh…yeah.”

She squinted. “So, why did you look surprised?”

“Uh…I thought you knew that I knew that you weren’t…” His voice trailed off.

At what exact point had he known? She had to ask. “When? Before or after?” The kiss.

He rubbed a jaw that was turning dark with five-o’clock stubble, his equally dark eyebrows knitting together. “I suspected all along,” he said in a slow drawl. “But I wasn’t sure until you kissed me. Let’s just say…you two don’t kiss alike.”

“TMI,” she managed to say, not about to encourage anything more about her sister’s kissing habits.

“TMI?”

“Too much information.”

“You asked me,” he pointed out.

“I didn’t kiss you, though. You kissed me.” Big difference. How could men be so deluded? Marley hated to generalize, but it wasn’t just Cash who seemed too full of himself. Lots of men overestimated their prowess. Marley was hardly the first woman to notice, either. History was full of astute women who had managed to pick up on this. “I did nothing,” she clarified, hoping he understood. “I sat there in stunned silence.”

Those inky eyes, so alive with shadow, widened. “Really?”

Why didn’t he seem to believe her? “Just now—” Marley jerked her thumb back toward the studio. “When you kissed me,” she continued, placing correct emphasis on the pronouns, “my mouth dropped open in shock. Maybe you saw more into that than it really was, Cash.”

“Maybe so,” he said, the words running together like molasses, his lips pursing pensively, “and since I pride myself on paying close attention, Marley, I have to apologize. I don’t know what confused me more, the way you flung your arms around my neck, or the way you went at me with all that tongue action.”

“Do men really say things like this?” she muttered. “Tongue action?”

He looked like he was fighting a smile. “Apparently, some do.”

Had she used her tongue? Had she wrapped her arms around his neck? Shutting her eyes briefly, she tried to remember, but she drew a blank. Surely, he was wrong. She’d remember if she’d kissed him back. “Look,” she began diplomatically, opening her eyes. “On this issue, let’s agree to disagree. Apparently, we each have our own version.”

Before he could contradict her, she quickly cleared her throat. “And my being on the show wasn’t intentional,” she plunged on. “Edie had nothing to do with it. She doesn’t even know. She asked me to come here, but not to be on the show with you. I mean, it’s not like we were trading places with each other, the way we did when we were kids.” He was looking at her expectantly, so she added, “It’s a long story….”

“I’ve got all night.”