Chapter 2
Today was shaping up to be a brilliant day. First up was hours of quality shopping time with Lolita helping me buy clothes for my trip back home to Mildura, which I was totally dreading. After that, as if the day couldn”t get any better, I had a date with Billy. I’d nearly fallen off my chair when he’d phoned reception yesterday. The sound of his voice had set my heart aflutter and I’m sure I’d been grinning like a crazy woman since he invited me to dinner.
I was buzzing with anticipation by the time Lolly pulled her Grand Jeep Cherokee into the drop-off zone and opened the car door.
She squealed, confirming her excitement matched mine. “Ready to shop till we drop?”
“Absolutely.” I slipped into the passenger seat and leaned over to give her a hug.
“Let’s go then.” She put the car into gear and pulled onto the quiet street.
“What time do you have to be back?”
“Well . . .”
It must’ve been the way I said it because she spun to me with wide eyes. “Well, what?”
“Billy called yesterday.”
“Oh yay, and?”
“I’m meeting him in his room at seven tonight.”
She put her foot on the accelerator, shooting us through a yellow light. “Goody! I’ve got you for the whole day before he shags your brains out.”
I giggled. “Correct.”
Because we arrived at the shops right on opening time, there were plenty of parking spaces. Lolly drove up a ramp and pulled into a parking bay next to the entrance doorway. I hadn’t been to Pacific Fair since they’d finished the multi-million-dollar renovation, so I was already disorientated.
We jumped out of the car, and Lolly hooked her arm into mine as we strolled toward the entrance and as we stepped onto a set of escalators leading down to the center, she said, “Give me a rundown of your plans in Mildura.”
“Okay. I fly in on Friday at about lunchtime. Nothing planned that night. I’m having morning tea with Aunty Ann on Saturday, and Dad’s party is Saturday night. I fly home on Sunday around lunchtime. That’s it.”
“Right.” She held out her thumb. “For starters, we need an outfit for the plane.”
“I’ll just wear my jeans.”
“Like hell you will.” She hit me with her long-suffering fashion-tragic look.
I chuckled. “Okay, no jeans.”
“No. I’m thinking of a stylish jumpsuit and heels to match. Then Friday night you need a couple of choices of clothing, just in case you go clubbing or something.”
I burst out laughing. “Lolly, it’s Mildura, not Melbourne.”
“A girl can never be too prepared.”
At the bottom of the escalator, she led me to the first shop on the left. The furniture was sparse, the decor bland, and the shopkeeper looked annoyed that we’d stepped through her door. I would have walked right back out if Lolita hadn’t strode to the nearest rack and started tugging clothes aside. I stood back, ready to witness the shopping master at work.
“Hold that.” Without looking at me, Lolita passed me a hanger holding a long flowing dress.
“And this.” She repeated the move with another dress.
Once I had five items of clothing, she turned with a grin. “Okay, let’s try them on.”
Obediently, I followed her toward the changing room. We passed the mirrored counter, and the shop assistant looked up as if she’d only just noticed us. “Would you like some help?”
Lolly showed her a palm. “No. We’ve got this.”
God, I love her.
The assistant gasped, and I tried not to giggle as we strode past.
Lolly inspected both change rooms before she chose one, pulled aside a curtain and stood back. “In you go.”
I hung the clothes on the large brass hooks, pulled the curtain across, and undressed. The first outfit I tried was a pomegranate-colored jumpsuit. It was simple yet stylish and featured spaghetti halter-neck straps with an open back. It had a thin elastic waist and straight legs that fell to the floor.
I grinned at my reflection, then turned, checked out my ass, and grinned some more. I would never have lifted this off the clothing rack. Luckily for me, Lolita had. I pulled the curtain aside to show Lolly.
“Shit yeah, babe. That rocks.”
“I know.” I turned to look in the mirror again.
“Totally for the plane. When you land in Mildura, you’ll have the cowboys turning their heads so fast they’ll fall off their horses.”
I chuckled and resisted telling her there were very few cowboys in Mildura. “I really like this.”
“Like? You look fucking hot.”
I stepped back into the cubicle and tried on the remaining four outfits, but none of them were suitable. We left the store, and I couldn’t believe that in the space of twenty minutes, I’d spent $140 and already purchased my first outfit for the weekend.
Things went a little downhill from there, though, with the next six dress shops proving unfruitful. “Time for coffee?” I said, all hopeful.
Lolita wagged her head, frowning. “Okay, but remember, it’s cutting into quality shopping time.”
“I’ll drink quickly.”
The first coffee shop we came across offered both a delightful coffee bean aroma and a table for two out the front. Lolita nabbed a chair like the queen of the plaza she was, and I went in search of the cake counter.
I ignored the baked cheesecake for fear it may make Lolita gag and decided on the healthier option, a blueberry pecan muffin. My timing was perfect as Lolly was placing her order with the waitress as I returned to our table. I ordered my choice of treat and tried but failed to ignore Lolly shaking her head. She should know by now that she’d never get between me and a decent sugar fix.
“What’s the plan after this?” I asked.
“We’ll head up to the Myer end. There are a few new dress shops up that way I haven’t explored yet.”
“Okay.”
As we drank our drinks and I ate my muffin, our conversation flitted from Calvin and her kids to my weekend ahead, to the fashion sense of the random strangers who walked past. I drank my coffee as quickly as I could, and the second I forked the last piece of my cake into my mouth, Lolita stood and waggled her tiny ass to the counter to pay. I stood, ready to start hustling the second she returned.
Five shops and a dozen outfits later, I tried on a dress that was simply stunning. It was black, had delicate lace cutouts that showed off the right amount of cleavage, fitted my curves like a second skin, and the hemline fell just above my knee. I couldn’t stop staring at my reflection.
I felt like a model. No . . . not a model—I felt like a woman who was at the top of her game and wasn’t afraid to show it. The dress was absolutely perfect, but not perfect for a backyard party in Mildura.
“You dressed yet?” Lolita was an impatient woman.
I pulled back the curtain and tugged my lip between my teeth, awaiting her appraisal.
Her jaw dropped. She tilted her head, and a tear sprung to her eyes. “Wow. You are stunning.”
I ran my fingers over the smooth fabric, turned, and admired my reflection from the back. “It’s beautiful.”
“That’s the one. That’s the party dress.”
I shook my head and sighed. “I’ll be overdressed.”
She waggled her finger at me. “There’s no such thing. You’re going to own that dress, and you’re going to own that party, too. People will want to know who you are, and they’ll say that’s Jane Nichols, the woman Alexander fucked around on.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re crazy.”
“You only just figured that out? Listen, the best revenge is showing that you’ve moved on. Make him see that the time you had with him was insignificant.”
Insignificant.I dwelled on her word.
In comparison to this year and the wonderful men I’d met, it was true. My time with Alexander, on the other hand, barely even registered on my radar anymore. It was like he was just a bad storm, a storm that had been replaced with many wonderful rainbows. “You know what? You’re right. This is the dress.”
“You bet it is, babe. You look smoking hot. Men will be on their knees begging you to walk all over them.”
“Oh my god. Stop it, you crazy woman.”
“No, I won’t stop. You’ve waited over three years to get your revenge on that bastard, and in this dress, you’re going to get it a thousand times over. Oh, I wish I could be there to see his face. Turn around.”
Grinning, I did a slow spin. I felt like a million dollars.
“I think we should bring out the animal in you and match this with leopard-print shoes and a clutch.”
“Oh, I’ve got my Givenchy zebra-print stilettos and the matching clutch.”
“Black and white . . . perfect. And what about long, dangly gold earrings and a chunky gold bracelet?”
I nodded and turned to my reflection again. As I admired every inch of the dress on my body, a layer of anticipation rumbled through me. For the first time in years, I was actually looking forward to seeing my cheating bastard ex-fiancé.
I felt no pain handing over three hundred dollars for the outfit. It was going to be worth every cent.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent in more dress shops, and after trying on dozens of styles, we succeeded in finding seven outfits, including two possibilities for Friday night and new workout gear just in case, according to Lolly, I felt the need to run off some of the calories I’d no doubt consume over the weekend.
We also found a treasure trove of accessories to go with each outfit and two new pairs of shoes. In one day, I’d spent a little more than two weeks’ wages. But I didn’t care—I was worth it. Besides, I was well and truly overdue for a wardrobe overhaul.
By the time she drove me home, it was half past four, and I was exhausted. We said our goodbyes, and with my abundant shopping bags hanging off my arm, I made my way to my apartment, placed my bags on the floor, and flopped onto the bed. As the muscles in my back unraveled, my mind turned to Billy.
My sexy cowboy was waiting for me just two apartments away.
I rolled off the bed and strolled to the bathroom. At the bath, I turned the taps to full and poured in a good slosh of Marjorie’s bubble bath. With the water running, I returned to my shopping purchases, and one by one, I unwrapped them, cut off the tags, and hung them in my closet. I added my shoes to my collection and put the jewelry away.
By the time I’d finished sorting my shopping, the bath was ready. I turned off the taps, and just before I hopped in, I poured myself a glass of wine. With my hair pulled up on top of my head and my glass of Shaw Smith Sauv Blanc resting on the edge of the tub, I stripped off and slipped into the warm water. I felt as if I’d run a marathon, and the warm water was the ideal therapy for my aching body.
As I shaved my legs, I played through my mind all the people I was likely to see when I returned to Mildura.
There was Mom and Dad of course, and it would be great to see Tyler again. I hadn’t spoken to my brother since he’d called me for my birthday. It will be wonderful to see Aunty Ann. Of all the people I’d left behind, she was the only one I truly missed.
My thoughts drifted to Alexander. How much had he changed?
When we’d first started going out, I’d thought he was the most handsome man in the world. He had rugged good looks and could sport a three-day growth in the space of twelve hours. His eyes were dark, framed by equally dark eyelashes.
By the end of our relationship, however, after I’d learned of the evil he’d done, he’d become as ugly as sin, and his eyes had darkened to menacing.
The tragedy of our breakup, and the thing that infuriated me the most, was that I’d learned to hate.
Hate was a soul-crushing emotion that ate me alive.
Every second I was awake, the hatred had consumed me, creeping into my personality at every opportunity. It took me a long time to eradicate that hatred. Too long.
Chelsea-Lea was as much a driver of that hatred as Alexander had been, and from what I’d heard about the demise of her life and body, my revenge was already sweet.
I sat in the bath and clutched my hands around my knees as one more name came tumbling through my brain. George Whiteman. The very first man to meet Memphis. I grabbed my wineglass and with a huge gulp, I realized I was looking forward to seeing him.
He’d literally changed my life. Hopefully, our paths will cross again.
As my thoughts drifted from George to the many other men I’d met this year and onto Cowboy Billy, who was waiting for me a short stroll away, I realized that all the hatred I’d been through was worth it.
Because if that hell had never happened, then this year would never have happened, either.
I smiled as I sipped my wine and turned my attention to the future rather than my past. My immediate future involved a smoking-hot cowboy, reminding me yet again of just how good life was. The lovely affirmation was like a balm to my soul, and I eased back, pushed my shoulders beneath the water, and closed my eyes.
The water was barely lukewarm when I finally hopped out and dried myself. I released my hair and fiddled around with it for a while, trying a new style Lolita had suggested I wear next Saturday night.
Separating out my fringe, I pulled a portion of hair back and plumped it up, creating some height at the back of my head, and pinned it in place. Then, using my curling wand, I put loose curls into the length that fell down and around my shoulders.
My arms were aching by the time I’d finished, but it was worth it. The new hairstyle was fancy. Perfect for a night out with Billy and perfect for one of my new outfits.
After applying a touch of makeup, I decided I’d wear the new dress Lolly had insisted I buy for my Friday night in Mildura.
I pulled the dress out of the closet and placed it on the bed. It was a wrap dress, a style I’d learned suited me very well. The color was red, not as bright as fire engine red, and not as deep as blood red—it was somewhere in between and was patterned with white spots. The neckline was fairly low, showing off ample cleavage, which was something I would never have done before this year.
I chose a white lace G-string and, for a little cheekiness, decided not to wear a bra. I curled the dress behind my back, wrapped the belt around, and tied it off in the center, at my waist.
For accessories I chose my long string of fake pearls and wrapped them around my neck three times, twice close to my neck and once long enough that it fell between my breasts. I chose matching earrings and a bracelet, and a pair of white six-inch-high stilettos.
When I stood before the mirror, I was fascinated by my appearance. It was still so hard to comprehend that it was my reflection. I spun around, allowing the skirt to flare. I looked beautiful, but it was more than that—I felt beautiful, too. The smile on my face was genuine and impossible to remove.
With those wonderful feelings coursing through me, I grabbed a white clutch, tossed my bits and pieces into it, and strode out my door.
Billy was in room fifteen, just two doors up from my room. I knocked once, and barely two heartbeats later, he opened the door.
His jaw dropped and he blinked. His reaction was the pinnacle to my already wonderful feelings. He kissed my cheek, and I inhaled his sexy, familiar scent. With his hand on the small of my back, he led me into the room and the door closed behind us.
Two champagne glasses were nestled next to an ice bucket on the kitchen counter, and assuming they were for us, I strode that way, placed my clutch onto the counter, and slipped into the barstool. The split in my skirt fell aside, revealing more of my legs than I’d usually showed, yet I resisted the urge to cover myself. I was pleased I didn’t when I saw Billy glance at my legs.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You look handsome yourself.” For the first time, Billy wasn’t wearing jeans. Instead, he wore dark blue slacks and a crisp white button-up shirt, which he’d tucked into his pants. His belt buckle was a large silver oval decorated with a bucking bronco and a rider.
He reached for the champagne. “I took the liberty of ordering us a drink. Would you like one?”
“I’d love one, thank you.”
Despite Billy’s cotton shirt covering his upper body, it was impossible to miss his toned muscles as he worked the cork from the bottle. It released with a loud pop, slamming into the ceiling, and bubbles spewed from the bottle.
“Oh, shit.” Billy raced to the sink, and we both giggled as we worked together to clean up the mess.
The incident was a nice relaxant, and after that, the conversation flowed freely.
We sipped our drinks out on the balcony and talked about all sorts of trivial things. The champagne warmed up my insides and loosened my curiosity, and soon I was doing Lolita’s trick, and asking Billy heaps of questions.
It was lovely just chatting, and I could’ve stayed there all night if my stomach hadn’t started grumbling. I tried to ignore the pain, but it was impossible. “So, where are we going for dinner?”
“Oh.” The startled look on Billy’s face indicated he’d forgotten all about food. “I found a nice-looking steak restaurant around the corner.”
“Steakside?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Is it okay?”
“It’s lovely.” My stomach made little mewling noises in approval.
“Shall we take a walk then?” He stood and offered his hand, helping me rise to my feet. I drew up to his chest, placed my hands over his defined pecs, and gazed into his gorgeous molten-honey eyes.
Barely a breath later, I closed my eyes and our lips met. I melted into his embrace and curled one hand up around to the back of his neck, urging him for more. Our moans united, as did our tongues. His fingers caressed my cheek, and as he reached around my back with his other hand I drew up on my tippy toes, positioning our hips together.
The kiss was gentle and sweet, but it said so much more—I want. I need. It was a kiss that said our relationship had slipped right on past casual, and as I pushed my tongue into his mouth, probing to taste more of him, I was delightfully happy that it had.
The bulge growing at his groin was incredible, and I rubbed my hand over my creation.
“Jane.” Billy pulled back. “You drive me crazy.”
I curled my tongue across my lip. “Is that a good thing?”
He cupped my cheek and leaned in for a delicate kiss. “It’s an incredible thing, but if we don’t go now, we may not eat tonight.”
I was torn between the options.
He reached for my hand and brought it up to kiss my palm. “We can take this up again when we come back.”
“Okay.” My stomach seemed to be happy with that decision, too.
We gathered our things and headed out to the elevator. It was weird walking past my apartment door.
The second we stepped into the mirrored cube, I grabbed him and pushed him back against the wall. Our mouths met in a crazy, heated kiss. Tongues probed. Our hips pressed together. Our breathing was erratic, and in the confined space, our moans were loud.
I pulled back at the little jig the elevator did to announce its arrival, and when it dinged, I started giggling. We crossed the lobby, and Bailey, the casual night manager, barely glanced in our direction as we strode past, laughing.
The second we stepped out the glass doors, Billy reached for my hand and spun me to him. His grin was magnificent. “You’re incredible.”
I scrunched my nose. “Thanks. Come on, I’m hungry.” After a brief pause, I added, “And horny. We need to solve one or the other quickly, or I’ll implode.”
“Eat first.”
“Okay.”
We held hands as we strolled toward Steakside, and it felt so comfortable I was fooled into believing Billy and I had known each other for years and not just hours.
We were offered exactly the same table I’d sat at a couple of weeks ago, but this time, instead of secretly spying on a man at another restaurant, I was openly admiring the man opposite me.
I didn’t need to look at the menu as I planned to order exactly what I’d had last time, but I used the distraction of studying the menu to try to settle my wild emotions.
The way I was feeling right now, if Billy dropped down on one knee and proposed, I’d probably say yes.