Days Like This by Laurie Breton Page B

experienced—”
    “Like starvation?  And cockroaches?”
    “Like winning Grammy Awards.  Like
playing on stage in front of fifty thousand people.  Like that nasty ‘R’ word
you so hate.”
    “What ‘R’ word?”
    “Rock star.  Ring a bell?”
    “Damn it, woman.  Now it’s my
ears that are bleeding.”
    “I hate to have to break it to
you, my friend, but because of these things, by the standards that plague small
towns like this one, you and I are considered exotic and fascinating.”
    “I don’t want to be exotic and
fascinating.  I just want to live my life in peace.  I’m just an ordinary guy.”
    “Now there is where we disagree,
but I’m not going to argue over it.”
    He glanced over her shoulder
again.  “Maybe we should give ‘em something to talk about.”
    “Make up your mind, Flash.  You
either want to be the center of attention, or you don’t.”
    “I just think we should make it
clear to all of these women that I’m taken.”
    She raised an eyebrow.  “You’re
wearing a wedding ring.”
    “Oh, of course.  I forgot.  Wedding
rings scare off even the most predatory of women.”
    “I don’t think there are too many
predators in our little group.  Also, lest we forget, one of those women is
your sister, one is your sister-in-law, and one is my nephew’s very pregnant wife. 
That leaves just three possible predators.”
    “Who are all looking at me like I’m
their next meal.  You have to save me from a fate worse than death.”
    “You’re so transparent.  You’re
just looking to cop a feel.”
    “Every chance I get.”
    Inside the house, the music
changed, and Lenny Welch began singing in his sweet, plaintive tenor about getting
the blues most every night.  Green eyes met green eyes and held a brief,
wordless conversation, and there on the grass, they began swaying together in
time with the music. “They’re still watching,” he said.
    “And they won’t stop until you
remove your hands from my butt.”
    “We’re married.  I can legally
feel you up any time I want.”
    “This reminds me of high school. 
They used to have this unbending rule at school dances.  If a teacher couldn’t
slip a sheet of paper between a couple, they were dancing too close.”
    “Hunh.  Too close for what?”
    “Alarming social diseases.  Like
syphilis.  And pregnancy.”
    “So what you’re telling me, in
your delightful roundabout way, is that we’re in danger of getting detention.”
    “Exactly.  And since we’re
already in deep trouble anyway—”  She tilted her head back, took his face
between her palms, and kissed him until every nerve ending in her body was on
red alert and both of them were breathing heavily.  She drew back, studied his
eyes, gone a soft, smoky gray.  And said, “Now see what you started.”
    He waggled his eyebrows and said,
“We could go home early and finish it.”
    “I think not.”  Toying with the
top button on his shirt, she said, “I’d suggest you go find something to keep
yourself amused.  Try not to break anything or injure yourself.  When your
daughter gets back, we’ll think about going home.  If I determine that you’ve
behaved properly, you might get to finish what you started.  If not…”
    “It’s off with my head.”
    “I’m not sure I’d go that far,
but I can safely say that if you misbehave, you won’t be getting any tonight.”
    “Guess I’d better walk the
straight and narrow, then.”
    “If you’re hoping to get lucky
tonight, then yes, you’d better.”
    “Got it, Sarge.”  He clicked his
heels together and saluted smartly.
    “Glad we have that clarified. 
Now can I go back to what I was doing?”
    “Only if I get to stand here and
watch you walk away.”
    She gave him a secretive little
smile.  “Letch.”
    “And damn proud of it.”
    She planted another quick kiss on
the corner of his mouth, stepped out of his arms, and walked away without a
backward glance. 
    But because she knew