Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
“I don’t suppose you can help me get out of this jester paint?” Vince asked as they pulled into the parking lot at Giffords.
The place was hopping, per usual.
“You want me to…?” Lace looked a little bit like a deer in the headlights as her hands fluttered in the direction of his face.
“Yeah. Unless you want me to end up entertaining everyone here instead of giving all my attention to you,” Vince grinned.
“I’ll oblige some fans, but I’m warning you.
From experience, I know it could take a while.
And let’s not forget, my main goal here is to ply you with ice cream, find out all about who Lace really is, then talk about Inez. ”
“Let’s lose the clown, then.” Lace’s agreement spilled out as if she was just catching up with what he said.
If Vince wasn’t mistaken, Lace had been doing that “lost in her head” thing again, something that he was finding adorable. He hoped that, in time, she’d share all those little escapes-from-reality with him, so he could help make some of what she was imagining, come true.
Vince, impishly, was already picturing a room in whatever house his mother would eventually help pick out, decorated like a circus tent. Which would mean…
Yeah. And wow.
This could be…real.
At least he hoped the excitement he was feeling toward Lace, was sustainable. She was the first woman he’d come in contact with in years who made him want more than a quick romp between the sheets.
But his past…
Dammit.
Vince would be devastated if Lace jettisoned him once she heard all the stories of his youthful antics.
He, unfortunately, had what some in his family would call a “colorful past”, but Vince didn’t want Lace to get the wrong idea.
Just because he’d once been the class clown, didn’t mean he wasn’t taking life seriously, now.
As he was about to let her in on it.
He wondered for a second how she’d react to his foster parent plan. Would she think he was being impetuous?
Vincent swiftly dismissed his worries. Lace, herself, had stepped up her game when she’d found out about Inez’s situation.
She clearly had her empathetic head on straight, and probably wouldn’t even blink that his was, too.
It might even earn him some points with her, but that wasn’t his goal.
His main objective was to make the lives of two wonderful females he’d just met, a little easier.
Vince turned off the truck, removed his seatbelt, and leaned over to rummage in the back seat.
“I have wet wipes around here, somewhere,” he said, digging through the pile of spare diving gear he always carried around these days in case of emergency.
Lace glanced back at the equipment. “Nice,” she said. “Looks like quality stuff. I haven’t been diving in a long time,” she revealed with a regretful twist to her mouth.
“You dive?” Vince asked, excitement stirring in his gut.
Plans for a second date began taking shape before the first one had even gotten underway.
“I used to all the time with my grandfather, but I kind of lost interest once he passed.”
“I’m sorry,” he responded sincerely. He could tell they must have been close.
“Thanks. I miss him and Gram, every day.”
Vince wouldn’t pry into that now since she hadn’t offered up more information, but he’d bring her back around to it, later.
In the meantime…
“Can I possibly entice you back into the water?” Vincent probed.
“Maybe.”
It was noncommittal, but Vincent had seen a small spark in Lace’s eyes that said if he worked at it just a little harder, he’d get her to agree.
“I take it you can’t always get back to Diver Downeast when they have a call-out,” she moved on, gesturing to his back seat again.
“Mostly I can,” he replied, letting her change the subject.
He shuffled a pair of swim fins aside and found the box he was looking for.
He snagged it up. “Living at my parents’ house and not having much else to do right now except work in Pop’s lumber mill, I can be at the dive shop in under fifteen minutes most days.
I tend to carry my gear around for remotely located emergencies.
That way I can head straight to whatever site where I’m needed. ”
Lace took the box of wipes from his hands, and turning to him, perused his face.
“You’ll have to tell me about some of your rescues,” she said. “If you’re allowed.”
Vince chuckled. “We don’t have any confidential, nondisclosure agreements for our work. Not like in the Navy. So I’m more than open to giving you details on what I do.”
“Great.”
She then indicated his head. “You want to take off your wig before I mop up your face?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he agreed. “And happily. This damned thing itches my head like mad.”
“I get that,” Lace agreed. “I hate wearing one.”
He yanked the offending hairpiece off and threw it on the seat behind him.
Funny. She wasn’t watching the tossed wig. Her eyes were on his hair.
Right. His normal, dark curls would be flat as hell, and probably looked like crap.
But what had she just said?
Duh. He was an idiot.
Of course, she knew all about itchy wigs.
Despite the fact that her bare head was undoubtedly exquisite, out in public she probably had to opt for either that odd wrap she was currently sporting, a hat, or a wig.
He asked for an explanation. “That’s right.
You must have an intimate knowledge of wigs.
But tell me. What do you have on your head right now? ” he questioned.
“I’ll give you all the deets, but can I…?” She waved a wipe in front of his face, hesitantly.
“Sure. Go for it,” Vince said, closing his eyes.
Her hands were gentle as they began swiping away his colors, and Vincent recognized that she wasn’t hurrying. She was careful and methodical, and if Vince had to say, he’d think she was doing a slow-roll on purpose, enjoying the job.
Well, hell. So was he.
“I wear this neck warmer on my head like a scarf when I’m out in public,” she returned to his question.
“Not when I’m working, though, because it would be too precarious.
I have to suffer with a real hat, due to the uncertain weather conditions,” she explained.
“But I find that a hat, in general, doesn’t breathe, nor does a regular scarf.
With those on my head, I actually sweat like a pig.
” She gave him an apologetic shrug, which he waved off.
Lace continued. “This,” she patted her headwear, “is a neck warmer which I’ve modified for my own purposes. It’s open at the top, which means it self-vents, so I’m not at risk of drowning in my own…perspiration.”
She’d amended the word “sweat” but it was completely unnecessary. Vince got the picture, and commiserated.
He hoped she wouldn’t remain self-conscious around him; that she’d feel free to share whatever she wanted.
“I actually think you should go au natural,” he told her seriously. “Your head, from what I’ve seen, is very beautiful.”
Lace blinked. As if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
She gave an uncomfortable chuckle as she discarded probably the tenth wet-wipe into the trash bag he’d placed on the floor, but otherwise didn’t respond.
Vince didn’t push. For Lace’s own comfort, and for the fact that he was loving the feel of her hands on his face.
Words were becoming difficult as he floated in blissful relaxation.
“How many of these does it normally take?” she asked, popping him out of a half-daze.
Vince regrouped his brain.
“Sometimes a half box,” he warned her, hoping his voice wasn’t slurring or that he’d started drooling. Surreptitiously he sent a finger to the corner of his mouth to make sure.
Nope. All good.
“It depends on how thickly I apply stuff,” he replied. “I don’t think I went overboard this morning.”
“Well, you couldn’t prove it by me,” she answered, studying his face while the tip of her tongue poked out. “I’m pretty sure I could be accused of doing an archeological dig, here.”
Damned cute.
“You must almost be done,” he posited a few minutes later, trying not to fall asleep under her tender ministrations.
“Close. Just a little more around the ears.”
Her small fingers began working around his whorls, and…
Cripes.
Everything in his brain and body instantly shot to attention. That included the fine hairs on his neck, his nipples, his…
Ah, shit. Erogenous zone alert.
Vince shifted his body in what he hoped was a nonchalant way, and crossed his legs.
Damned cock.
Her giggle should have clued him in.
“Sensitive around the ears?” she probed a little sassily.
Oh, yeah. She’d noticed.
“Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “My ears have always been, uh, very responsive. Ignore the small clown down below who thinks this is all about him.”
Lace giggled again, and Vince loved the sound.
Hah. If a hard dick was what she needed to let loose, the perfect remedy was no more than an ear tweak away at all times.
But…
He wasn’t going to get ahead of himself, here.
Ice cream and conversation first, then maybe when he dropped her off at her house, he could ask for a kiss. Nothing more.
By the way Lace was worrying her bottom lip and pretending not to glance at his lap, Vince figured he might have a shot at that lip-lock.
“There,” she finally said a little breathlessly, sitting back and perusing her work. “But now your hair…” Her hands hovered again. “It’s really a mess. Do you mind if I…?”
Did he mind? Not if she was still unconcerned that the monster in his pants was continuing his happy dance.
“Help yourself,” he choked out, leaning forward and down a bit.
It took everything in Vincent not to moan at the next touch of her fingers. He bit his tongue so hard, he might have drawn blood.
Damn. When had anything ever felt this good? He could feel her gentle untangling all the way down his spine to his rucked-up balls.
“Okay.” She finally put him out of a misery he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave, and sat back. “You look…human again.”
Was there appreciation in her eyes?
It was then Vince realized that Lace had never seen him in a civilian get-up, and he gave her his broadest smile. “So, what do you think? Am I as good-looking as a human as I was as a clown, or just…meh?” he asked, blatantly fishing.
Lace laughed. “Don’t even go there, Vince. You are so full of shit. As if you don’t get ogled and told every day that you’re handsome.”
Vincent preened.
Yes, he did get a lot of compliments on his looks, but for some reason it meant a whole lot more, coming from Lace.
“Okay. You got me. But is it okay if I like that you think I’m attractive?”
“Uh, huh,” she agreed. “But only if you don’t let it go to your head,” she warned. “And not to bring you down or anything, but you have to know that Buck is also pretty damned stunning. I’m assuming all your siblings are.”
Well, that was a buzz kill.
Lumping Vince together with his brothers was something that happened all the time, but he hadn’t liked sharing the limelight with them when he was young, and he didn’t want to share it now.
Vince affected a pout. “Okay. Fine. I get that we all look alike, but I have the best personality.”
He pulled a goofy face, and got the laugh he wanted, but somehow, it fell flat to him.
Crap.
Vince had worked hard at being the cut-up for many years, back when he’d spent his childhood in Maine, just to stand out from the crowd. And even though he’d outgrown the need to always be the joker, he’d kept his chops up, and felt himself reverting now; using it as a tool.
He didn’t quite like the feeling.
Lace must have sensed it, as well.
“You know, you don’t have to put on an act for me,” she told him softly. “I enjoy your normal sense of humor, so no need to add anything extra. And…I’m sorry I teased,” she added with a regretful twist of her mouth. “I see you as an individual, Vince. I promise I do.”
“Thanks.” He heaved a sigh. “I haven’t let the whole sibling rivalry thing bother me for years, and I thought I was over it, but…” Vince gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I find myself wanting not to be lumped in with my brothers again these days, especially where you’re concerned.”
Lace patted his arm. “I’ll take that as a compliment, and I’ll raise you another,” she stated cheekily. “If I was asked to pick the best out of a Sothard line-up, I’d choose you, all day long.”
Now, Vincent’s head was about to swell.
Lace was telling him, without actually saying the words, that her regard for him went over and above mere “like”.
He’d take that.
“Okay. Now that we’ve put my ego back in place,” he quipped, “I’m going to get rid of these clown clothes.”
Should he get a bit naughty?
Why not?
“You can either meet me outside the truck and I’ll join you once I’m through, or you can stay and watch until I’m down to civvies.”
Her tongue poked out again.
“Down to civvies?” she repeated with a rasp. “That means you, uh, have something on under your polka dots?”
Vince winked. “Were you thinking this was a Scottish kilt kind of thing?” he teased.
Color suffused her cheeks, and Vince loved that.
“Umm, maybe?” she offered self-consciously.
He threw back his head and laughed. “Nope. Sorry to derail your fantasy.” He would have loved to see inside Lace’s head for that one. “But I’ve got biker shorts and a t-shirt on to preserve what little dignity I have.”
“Oh.” That tongue was working again before she added, “Then I’ll stay and observe.”
Damn. How Vince wished he could do a provocative strip-tease. But considering the unwieldy clown suit, and the small confines of his truck, he was going to have to go with a more pragmatic approach to his clothing removal.
That didn’t mean he’d do things fast, though.
He slid one button out of its hole, then played with the next as if he couldn’t make up his mind.
Lace snorted. “Oh, god. You’re such a tease.”
Vince let number two unfasten, then straightened up and feigned innocence. “What? I just don’t want you thinking that I’m easy. I’ll have you know, not every woman gets me out of my clown clothes on the first date.”
Lace giggled. “Is this a date?”
Vince gave a huge, exaggerated sigh. “If you can’t tell, I must be doing it wrong.”
He slipped button number three from its berth and spread the plackets to reveal his t-shirt, stretched tightly across his muscled chest.
“Oh, no,” she told him as she swallowed hard. “You’re doing things exactly right. Believe me.”
Her eyes glazed over, and Vince could tell she was back in dream-land.
He couldn’t wait to be given a key to that magical place.
Since she was engaged inside her head, Vince finished quickly, slipping his legs out of his baggy pants, uncovering his bike shorts. He finished up just as Lace was blinking herself awake from her flight-of-fancy.
She glanced at his legs and gave a huge sigh.
Hell, yes.
He hoped that meant she liked what she saw.