Truly, Madly, Briefly: Truly, Madly, Briefly / Tried And True. Delores Fossen

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СКАЧАТЬ towel.”

      “Uh, were the briefs size triple-X?” he asked.

      Bobbie opened the linen closet and yanked out several thick towels. “Yes, how’d you know?”

      “Lucky guess.” He took one of the towels she offered and scrubbed it over his water-beaded face. Actually, he covered his entire face with it. “But it might be an important clue. Maybe size matters.”

      Bobbie fought to stop herself from laughing, but she didn’t quite succeed. She playfully nudged his arm with her elbow. “I’ll bet that’s the only time a man’s ever admitted that to a woman.”

      Aidan slowly lowered the towel. His mouth twitched, but he too lost the battle and grinned.

      All that arm-nudging and grinning came to a grinding halt, however, when his gaze dropped. The moment might have been light, but they were right against each other. Arm touching arm. Their bodies only a couple of inches apart, and they were definitely sharing the same air space.

      Not good.

      Bobbie cleared her throat and stepped away from him. “Anyway, about those Sheikh Yerbootees. I mean, that’s the name of the underwear. Rudy checked around the factory, and the case is definitely missing.”

      “Uh, Bobbie?”

      There was a look almost of pain on his face. “What is it, Aidan?”

      He motioned in the general direction of her shirt. “You’re sort of…well, I mean the rain…”

      Bracing herself for the worst, Bobbie glanced down.

      Yikes!

      Her flowered print top was practically invisible. Ditto for her lacy push-up bra. In fact, the only things that were perfectly visible were her breasts.

      She jerked the towel from her face to cover up, swatting herself in the eye during the process. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

      “I know. That’s why I decided to tell you.”

      Bobbie motioned toward her bedroom. “I’d better go change.”

      She managed to keep her voice calm enough, but on the inside, that was a different story. The intimate apparel gods were obviously having a good belly laugh at her expense. First, she had to discuss Sheikh Yerbootee underwear with Aidan. And then, there was that whole “size matters” thing.

      But those were mere appetizers in the whole humbling underwear scenario of life.

      Now, he’d seen her breasts in all their glory. Or rather their less-than-ample glory. She might never be able to look him straight in the eye again.

      The phone rang the moment that she shucked off her shirt. “Aidan, get that for me, please?” she called out.

      With her luck, it’d be Rudy with yet more news of missing underwear. This time, it would likely be a case of those seatless Casanovas with the attached padded lips. Or maybe some of the ultraclassy Cheek-a-boos.

      Bobbie hurriedly changed and rushed back into the living room to face her fate. She came to a halt the moment she saw Aidan.

      From the look on his bleached face, it was more than fate she’d have to face. Much more. It appeared he’d received some horrifying news. Maybe the entire factory inventory was missing, and she’d have to discuss each item in excruciatingly embarrassing detail.

      “That was your Uncle Quincy,” Aidan informed her. “He said the rain washed out the road leading back to the highway, and they’ll have to stay in town tonight.”

      Even though on the surface that didn’t seem as much of a calamity as missing Cheek-a-boos, Bobbie knew differently. If the road was gone, then that meant Aidan had to stay. At her house. With her.

      Alone.

      All night.

      The Cheek-a-boos would no doubt have proven a lot easier—and much less hot—to handle.

      7

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      “IT’S NO big deal,” Bobbie mumbled to herself.

      Really. It wasn’t.

      So what if Aidan was spending the night? It wasn’t as if he were really spending the night. And if wasn’t as if she really wanted this to happen either. In fact, nothing about this was anywhere near really.

      Really.

      Besides, they were simply business partners, of sorts. Mere participants in a plan to get members of the opposite sex off their backs.

      And so what if they’d kissed a couple of times? Those kisses were all part of the game plan and meant zip. Nada. Zilch. That was something akin to shaking hands to finalize a business deal, that’s all.

      With her toothbrush still hanging out of her mouth, Bobbie glanced at herself in the mirror. She shook her head. It was a sad day in a woman’s life when she started lying to herself.

      Those kisses meant more than zip. More than nada. Much more than zilch. And she knew it. They meant that despite all her precautions, she wasn’t immune to the opposite sex.

      Or maybe it was just that she wasn’t immune to Aidan.

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