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

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      The Naughty Guy: Catalog Item 451A. A cheeky but classy traditional-cut faux silk brief in nontraditional colors. A subtle way to make a not-so-subtle impression. Available in Brazen Brass, Rowdy Raspberry and, for a limited time only, Scandalous Scarlet Stripes.

      GREAT. Now, there were three dogs, two cats and an ornery raccoon following her. As if she hadn’t already had an eventful day, now she had to put up with this.

      While Bobbie turned down the narrow road that led to her house, she continued to fan herself with the latest copy of Travel-or-Bust Monthly. Maybe, just maybe, the icky scent of the massage oil would fade before Aidan came over to discuss the details of the Twango-Drifter Plan. A plan that had plagued, tormented and needled her the entire afternoon.

      Geez Louise, what the devil had she been thinking when she suggested that brilliant idea?

      It was one of the worst ideas she’d ever had. Well, not counting the time she’d let her best friend, Crystal, talk her into getting her navel pierced. But this was definitely the second worst.

      “Yes, I’m sure,” she repeated to Mr. Eidelson, the client she’d met with only an hour earlier. “I believe I made that clear before I left. I’m sorry, but Boxers or Briefs will not be marketing your Sensuous Musk Massage Oil.”

      She rolled her eyes when the man had the nerve to ask why. Bobbie gave her phone headset an adjustment so he’d clearly hear her every word. “Well, for one thing, your product stains like crazy. And I’m not just talking about the big splotch it left on my skirt either. My thighs, palms and kneecaps are purple as well. I stopped at the gas station and tried to scrub it off, but it seems to have embedded into my skin.”

      “I’m sorry about that,” Mr. Eidelson said. “The bottle slipped right out of my hand.”

      Yes, and that slip had sent a pint of the industrial-strength massage oil right into her lap. In addition to the goop causing her an uncomfortable drive home, it now appeared the musky scent was attracting critters.

      And speaking of critters, she saw Jasper’s devil-red sports car when she turned into the driveway. Even in the already dusky light, it didn’t take her long to spot him. There he was, leaning against her mailbox as if he had every right to be there.

      She issued a mumbled goodbye to Mr. Eidelson and tossed the headset phone onto the passenger seat.

      “Bobbie,” Jasper greeted when she stepped from her car. “I’m glad you’re finally home. I’ve been waiting for you.” He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “Say, what’s that smell? A new perfume, huh? Guess the animals like it. It’s a little strong, but I could get used to it.”

      She ignored his idiotic observation and turned to see if the other critters were still there. They were, and they were gaining now that she’d stopped. Bobbie rolled up the travel magazine in case she had to ward them off. Not that she planned to hit them, but waving the glossy pages around and shouting might work.

      Jasper walked down the flagstone steps to join her. “Say, that really is a great perfume. You oughta wear that more often.” He sniffed her again. “By the way, something must be wrong with your phone. I’ve been trying to call you for a couple of hours.”

      “I had your number blocked.” Bobbie kept her attention on the animals. One of the cats and the raccoon didn’t look especially pleased when they realized she wasn’t a potential girlfriend.

      “I know you’re angry about what happened,” Jasper said as if his latest jilting were only a mild inconvenience instead of the life-altering, humiliating experience that it had been. “But I can explain everything.”

      “I don’t want an explanation.”

      She grabbed her purse and headed for the house, taking the steps two at a time. The critters didn’t come any closer, but Bobbie didn’t plan to take any chances. Besides, she wanted to get away from Jasper more than she did the animals.

      Unfortunately, Jasper followed her. Bobbie barely managed to get inside the house and slam the glass storm door between them.

      “I got scared,” Jasper prattled on. He pressed his face right against the glass, making himself look a little like a severely mashed Mr. Potato Head. “I guess I wasn’t ready to settle down.”

      “Too bad you didn’t let me in on that little revelation before I showed up at the church.”

      He shrugged. “Hey, what can I say—I’m human. I make mistakes.”

      She wanted to throttle him. Eight months earlier, the man had left her high and dry to face 179 guests, a food-laden reception and an unpaid limo driver. Worse, Bobbie had learned later that he’d actually gone on their honeymoon trip to London—a place she desperately wanted to visit. Then, rather than return to Liffey and try to grovel his way back into her good graces, Jasper had been working in his father’s travel agency in San Antonio.

      “You’re leaving,” she insisted. “And I don’t want you to come back. Our relationship is over, and we’ll never get back together again, understand?”

      Jasper nodded but then reached inside the pocket of his perfectly tailored jacket and brought out a thick envelope. “It’s an itinerary,” he announced. “For our trip to Paris. I’ve already paid for everything, including a stay at a five-star hotel. Dad says I can have as much time off from the agency as I need so we can leave as early as next week. All you have to do is say yes.”

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