Crazy For You by Jennifer Crusie Page B

too subtle.” Quinn thought fast. “You have to shock him. Like meeting him at the door wrapped in Saran Wrap or something.” She felt a stab of envy for Darla, who was in a relationship with a guy who could appreciate Saran Wrap. Bill would have passed out from the vulgarity of it, and Nick would have taken the Saran Wrap and used it on some other woman.
    “Saran Wrap,” Darla said.
    “Or a really sexy nightgown,” Quinn said. “Or black lace underwear—”
    “I have a transparent plastic raincoat,” Darla said, her voice calm again. “Max’s mother gave it to me because it would go with everything.”
    “That could be good,” Quinn said.
    “The boys come home late on Friday,” Darla said. “Max’ll be home alone tonight at five-thirty.”
    “Tonight?” Quinn was a little taken aback with how fast Darla was moving—things must really be bad—but she nodded anyway. “Good idea.”
    “I like this,” Darla said. “Great sex in the living room in broad daylight.”
    “I’m jealous,” Quinn said, partly for encouragement and partly in truth.
    “This is a plan.” Darla nodded, back to her old positive self. “And it’s just a little plan, it won’t change anything important, just make things the way they used to be.” She beamed at Quinn. “This is a very smart idea. Thank you.”
    Quinn looked down at Katie uneasily. “Don’t mention it.”
    Darla put the car in gear. “Let’s go get you an apartment fast. I have to be home by five.”
    “Look, don’t get yourself too invested in this,” Quinn said. “A little change, fine, but be practical. Don’t expect miracles or revolutions.”
    “Like you and Nick?” Darla said.
    Quinn closed her eyes and thought about Nick. All that zing. “Okay, you’re right. We deserve miracles and revolutions. We’ll both go for it.”
    “Damn right,” Darla said. “This is going to be great.”
    “Damn right,” Quinn said, and thought, Oh, boy.

FIVE
     
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    Meggy had found one apartment in Tibbett—“None of the others allowed pets, dear”—and that one was not attractive. “You can’t live here,” Darla had whispered, staring in horror at the water-stained walls, and Quinn was saying, “I can if it means I keep my dog,” when the landlord bent to pat Katie.
    A minute later they were out on the street, braced against the gusts of March wind. “I said housebroken only,” the man said before he slammed the door on them.
    “She is housebroken,” Quinn said, thinking evil thoughts about the landlord, who clearly did not understand dogs, but Darla looked approvingly at Katie for the first time.
    “She knew that was a lousy place to live,” she said. “Good dog.”
    “Well, how’s this for an alternative?” Quinn said, glaring at both of them. “Now I have to live with my parents.”
    “There must be something else,” Darla said. “If you’re sure you’re not going back to Bill.”
    “I don’t like him,” Quinn said. “Okay? Can we get that clear? He stole my dog. He’s out.”
    “Right.” Darla nodded. “Okay, forget him, I’ll never mention him again. How about buying? If you can swing a down payment, mortgage payments could be cheaper than renting.”
    “Buy a house?” Quinn thought of the Tara-like subdivisions that ringed Tibbett. Buying a house was serious stuff. “What would I do with a whole house?”
    “Not all houses are huge,” Darla said patiently. “Find a little two-bedroom deal. Your mother works for a realtor, for heaven’s sake. Let’s go ask.”
    “Buy a house.” Quinn got into the passenger seat again and let Katie scramble her way into the backseat as she thought about it. A house. Her own house. Independence. Maturity. Privacy. The same flare of excitement that had caught her when she decided to keep Katie and kiss Nick came back. “You know, I could do that. Buy a house. Just me.” Her own house. With a fenced-in backyard for Katie. And a couch in the living