Good Girls Do (31 page)

He moved to her other breast and treated it with equal reverence.

She held him tight.

He undid her bra.

She shimmied out of it.

He lowered her dress past her hips until it fell in a silken heap on the floor.

She finally removed his shirt and undid the zipper on his trousers.

He murmured his appreciation of her thigh-high stockings and black satin bikini underwear.

She showed her appreciation of his arousal by reaching inside his black cotton briefs to hold his velvety hard sex in her hand.

Luke traced his fingertip along the edge of her tiny panties, teasing her, stroking her near her core but never quite touching her there.

Julia trembled under the sweet torture and ran her fingertips along his throbbing length.

“Enough!” he growled, tumbling her back onto his bed.

Shoes were kicked off. His pants yanked off by them both. A condom rolled on with his guidance and her seductive help.

By now Julia’s need for him was at a fever pitch. Every nerve in her body was at a heightened state and hypersensitive. He trailed his fingers up her inner thigh, removing her underwear as if unlocking the secrets of the world. He cupped her feminine mound, the palm of his hand creating a rhythmic pressure that made her burn inside.

“Now,” she said.

“Now what?” He exquisitely tortured her, his skillful fingers brushing the crisp curls guarding her silken folds. “This?” He slipped one finger inside. “Or this?” He seduced her with two fingers now.

“No, this.” She rolled him onto his back and sat atop him, using one hand to guide him to her and then easing down until the entire throbbing length of him was buried deep deep within her.

Their bodies slipped into a steady rhythm as she rocked on top of him and he met her thrust for thrust. Yes, the passion was intense. Yes, the pleasure was powerful.

But there was more. Julia felt more than just the physical connection with Luke. She felt bound to him heart and soul. Her hand was braced on his chest, where she could feel the thundering beat of his heart. Staring down at his face from this position, she marveled at the emotion in his mysterious eyes. At the raw passion etched on his face.

And when she finally came, she experienced the kind of remarkable seventh-chakra orgasm she’d only read about—the ultimate union of male and female energy.

Not because Luke was such an extraordinary lover, although he was. But because she loved him.

Exhausted, she collapsed beside him and cuddled close, murmuring the words against his shoulder before drifting off to sleep.

Luke froze. Had she just said she loved him?

He should have seen this coming. He should have done something to prevent it. Because she was in love with a man who didn’t exist. He wasn’t the man she thought he was. She looked at him with such faith and happiness, and he didn’t have the heart to hurt her by telling her the truth.

Which meant he was as bad as Angel was, deceiving Julia in the name of protecting her. Not from danger, but from reality.

Maybe he’d just imagined she’d said the words. Maybe he was looking for trouble where none existed.

He’d take a wait-and-see position. He didn’t want to examine his own emotions too closely, let alone hers. Doing that only complicated things.

If he were a better man, he’d walk away. But he couldn’t do that. Not yet.

“This
meeting is called to order,” Walt proclaimed.

The March town meeting was held the fourth Tuesday night of the month in the courthouse, a white-columned building with an imposing brick facade. The room was unusually crowded this evening.

Normally Julia would rather eat Angel’s awful yellow squash cookies than attend one of these things, but she’d gotten an official-looking notice in the mail advising her to be here tonight. So she’d come. And brought Pam with her for moral support.

Luke had come, too. He’d also gotten a notice and claimed he didn’t want to miss the floor show.

The only empty seats left by the time they got there were in the front row. Luke actually brought a box of popcorn with him and leaned back in his chair as if he were attending a movie.

“Is it true that you’re going to ban people showing their underwear in public?” The question came from Julia’s neighbor Val.

“Blue-footed boobies don’t wear underwear.” Mr. Soames, who’d been quiet lately and hadn’t visited the library much over the winter, was apparently back in his customary form.

“Don’t put that in the official minutes,” Walt instructed Edith. “I didn’t recognize Mr. Soames . . .”

“What do you mean you don’t recognize me?” the octogenarian demanded. “I’ve known you since before you were born.”

“That’s not actually possible,” Walt replied.

“You never could see the big picture,” Mr. Soames retorted.

“Maybe Walt needs to go over to the Goodwin Eye Care Center and get his vision tested like Sue Ellen did,” someone in the back row suggested.

“Who said that?” Walt demanded in irritation.

Julia’s neighbor Val raised her hand.

“You said that?” Walt’s face showed his disbelief.

“No, I just wanted to point out that you never answered my question. About the underwear issue.”

“It’s obviously a good idea,” Alice stood to inform everyone. “I’ve already discussed it with our U.S. Representative when I visited her in Washington, D.C., a few months back. The way some people are dressing these days, it’s simply outrageous.”

Alice was looking at Julia as she said that last word, even though Julia had never shown a centimeter of her underwear in public . . .

Wait, there was that one time when she’d worn the Bo Peep costume and Luke had carried her home.

But surely if Alice had spotted her then, she’d have said something before now.

“Your nephew, the mayor’s son, wears clothing that shows the elastic band of his underwear,” Mr. Soames of all people pointed out. “It even has some name on it. I don’t need to have
my
vision tested,” the old man added with a cackle.

“We don’t have time for further discussion on this issue at the moment,” Walt decided. “We’ll shelve it for future discussion.”

“Where do you plan on shelving it?” Mr. Soames demanded. “In the library? Because I heard a rumor that you were threatening to burn books there, Mr. Mayor. Is that true?”

Walt paused to give Luke a dirty look before replying. “Of course it’s not true. It’s a vicious lie, and if you’ll tell me who said such a thing, I’ll make sure they’re punished.”

“It was your son.”

“Oh. Well, moving on . . .”

“Billy and I both enjoy extreme snowboarding, you know. We were really stoked about the world Superpipe last month.”

Walt cleared his throat, clearly at a loss as to how to handle Mr. Soames. “Yes, well, as I said, moving on to the next item on the agenda tonight. It has come to our attention that a business or businesses were being run out of a private home in an area zoned as residential. The residence in question is located on Cherry Lane. 160 Cherry Lane, to be precise.”

Pam elbowed Julia. “Hey, that’s your address.”

Julia stood up. “That’s my house.”

Walt nodded. “I believe it is.”

“Are you talking about the llamas? You told me to keep them because you wanted to get on the
Late Show
. And because you wanted them as prognosticators.”

“No, I’m not talking about the llamas.”

“Good, because they’re not living with me any longer and haven’t been for a long time now.”

Walt nodded again. “So I’ve heard.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“A school being run out of your home.”

“A school?” Julia repeated, at a total loss.

“That’s right.” Walt tugged his reading glasses down from the top of his head where he’d shoved them and consulted his ever-ready clipboard of notes. “A yoga school and a belly-dancing school.”

“There’s no school.”

“No?” He stared at her over the rim of his glasses. “It’s my understanding that yoga and belly-dancing lessons were being offered.”

“Well, yes they were, but . . .”

“And that a fee was involved?”

“In some cases, perhaps . . .”

“Then that’s a business,” Walt stated.

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

To Julia’s surprise, Mrs. Selznick came to her rescue. “Then what about your sister, Walt, doing manicures in her home? Or Mabel giving perms in her living room? Or you, Edith, giving piano lessons at home?”

“She has a point,” Edith reluctantly admitted.

“Those yoga lessons were great,” Dora Abernathy from the corner of Cherry Lane declared. “They really helped my arthritis.”

“So did the belly-dancing,” Sue Ellen stood up to say. “Helped my physical condition, I mean. Of course, I’m much too young to have arthritis yet.” She paused to preen a moment. “My doctor says I’ve never been in better shape. And I’ve got new glasses, too,” she added. “The Eye Care Center is running a two-for-one sale now through the end of the month, so be sure to check it out.”

“The yoga lessons lowered my blood pressure,” Patty from the library stated.

“Mine, too,” Frasier the library director raised his hand to join to crowd.

“Both the belly-dancing and the yoga helped with my lower back pain.” Laurie from the library added her two cents’ worth.

“I think perhaps we’d better drop this item from the agenda,” Edith suggested with a stern look at Walt. “It wasn’t on my copy to begin with.”

“Fine. Let’s move on to complaint against the business establishment known as Maguire’s. We are all in agreement that this is a business, correct?” The five members of the town council all nodded. “Then the complaint concerns the lascivious illustration on the premises.”

“Hey, I took down that bikini babe calendar from Joe’s Garage a long time ago,” Luke said.

“We’re not talking about a calendar. We’re talking about the mural you had commissioned.”

“I don’t know that
commissioned
is the right word to use . . .”

“Whatever word you used, you told Tyler to paint it and he did.”

“Who told you that?”

“It’s a logical assumption to make.”

“Hey, I never claimed to be logical,” Luke said.

“You’re saying you don’t have a mural on your wall?”

“No, I’m not saying that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I think this entire thing is ridiculous.”

“Fine.” Walt’s voice reflected his increasing aggravation. “Duly noted. Put in the record that Luke Maguire refused to take the situation seriously.”

“What situation?” Luke said.

“The situation involving the mural of a naked woman.”

“She’s not naked.”

“Of course she is.”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Well, if
you
see her as being naked . . .”

“What do you mean?”

“She looks clothed to me. It’s a modern abstract interpretation of the female form.”

“A naked female form,” Walt retorted.

“Are you sure you want to bring up these matters tonight?” Edith asked nervously. “What if someone from the BST committee is here undercover?”

“I checked everyone at the door when they came in, and Mabel is stationed there now.”

“Locking us in, are you? Talk about a captive audience,” Luke said.

“Mock all you want, but the bottom line here, Luke, is that you’ll have to remove that mural or be closed down.”

“It’s a mural. It’s painted on the wall. Unless you’re telling me you want me to rip out the wall?”

“No, we’re not unreasonable. You can have it painted over.”

“Gee, that’s real generous of you, Walt. I suppose you want me to paint it green like everything else in this town.”

“Green is the official village color,” Walt reminded him. “The board voted on it last year.”

“I didn’t know that,” Mabel said. “I don’t really care for green. I like blue much better.”

“It brings out the color of my eyes, so I certainly like blue better,” Sue Ellen said.

“Me, too!” Dora stated. “In fact, I’m painting my green door blue as soon as I can. I’m sick of green.” She stood and turned to the seated audience. “How many of you prefer blue to green?” A majority of hands popped up.

“Wait a second!” Walt protested.

“I voted nay on the green issue if you recall,” Edith said. “It’s all there in the meeting minutes.”

“Who reads those?” Walt scoffed.

“I did,” Tyler said from the back of the room. “And it appears you’ve got some legal discrepancies.”

“This from the town handyman.” Walt’s voice was dismissive. “Have you been watching
Court TV
or something?”

“Or something,” Tyler said. “It appears that you didn’t have a quorum in several of your meetings and that you failed to notify the townspeople of the complete voting agenda. I can itemize the other problems as well, if you’d like. I’ve made a list.”

Walt impatiently tapped on his clipboard. “This is ridiculous.”

“Here.” Tyler walked to the front of the room to hand over a printed sheet of paper to each town council member. “And here’s a copy for the town attorney, your brother Phil.”

“I thought Phil was a dentist,” Dora said.

“He went to law school before dental school,” Walt said defensively.

“I didn’t realize he was our town attorney,” Dora said. “What happened to old Mr. Weinstein?”

“He retired to Arizona two years ago.”

“He did? I wondered why I hadn’t seen him around town lately. But your brother?” Dora shook her head. “That doesn’t sound right somehow.”

“I voted nay on that one, too,” Edith quickly stated. “But I was outvoted by everyone else.”