Downhome Darlin' & The Best Man Switch by Victoria Pade Page A

along her shoulders. Down her arms.”
    â€œAh. A bath massage,” she said, not intending for her own voice to come out almost as a sigh.
    â€œTo start with anyway,” he said with a devilishly intimate chuckle.
    â€œIt would feel great,” she said as if she were experiencing it, free to be lost in the vivid scene in her mind because her eyes were still closed against reality.
    â€œWarm. Slippery. Great,” he agreed. “So great he’d have to give her the full-body massage.”
    â€œThe full-body massage?”
    â€œEvery inch of her body.”
    â€œWhile he was kissing her?”
    â€œOr watching to see how much she liked it.”
    â€œWould she like it?” Abby asked, taunting slightly even though her tone was barely more than a whisper as she drifted deeper and deeper into the images they were conjuring together.
    â€œOh, yeah, she’d like it, all right. No doubt about that. He’d make sure of it.”
    â€œAnd would he like it, too?”
    â€œSo much he’d have a hard time holdin’ back.”
    â€œAnd when he couldn’t anymore?”
    â€œHe wouldn’t. He’d start kissin’ her again and he’d stop the full-body massage to hone in on a few areas that’d drive her crazy. A few that’d drive him crazy....”
    What was she doing? that little voice of caution in the back of Abby’s mind shouted at her. This was no way to spend an afternoon. In a public place. With a man she hardly knew. Making up a fantasy that was getting her more turned on by the minute.
    Too turned on to stop even though she knew this had gotten way out of hand.
    â€œThen what?” she heard herself say in a bedroom voice that wasn’t quite as raspy as his had grown.
    â€œThen he’d point the whirlpool jets at just the right spots and let ‘em pulse water while some other pulsin’ went on. Long, slow, wet, slippery pulsin’...”
    Okay, maybe this had gone far enough.
    Abby opened her eyes and fought her way out of the imaginary scene before she embarrassed herself with more than a verbal climax.
    â€œWater would splash all over,” she decreed practically.
    Cal was watching her with warm aquamarine eyes. He laughed. “Who cares if water splashes all over?”
    â€œThey’d care when wood rot ate right through the floor. ”
    He leaned over and spoke directly into her ear again. “It would be worth it.”
    â€œYou’re a wicked man,” she said, trying not to smile at the delight that made those turquoise eyes sparkle.
    â€œWho, me? I thought we were talkin’ about two other people. Made-up ones.”
    â€œWell, those two other, made-up people would have one big mess to clean.”
    Enunciating each word for emphasis, he repeated, “It would be worth it.”
    A man dressed in the store’s uniform walked by the opening to that section just then, frowning at them but not venturing inside.
    Abby knew him. He went to her church. And from the disapproving, impatient expression on his face, it wasn’t the first time he’d walked by.
    â€œOh, boy,” she muttered, disregarding awkwardness now to scramble to her feet and out of the tub in a hurry.
    Cal glanced over his shoulder in the salesman’s direction as if he knew perfectly well that the other man had been periodically looking in on them. Cal didn’t move, though. He stayed just the way he was, lounging in the tub.
    â€œSo what’s the verdict?” he asked her.
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œDo I invest in this thing or not?”
    There was something in his tone that said he wasn’t actually referring to the bathtub.
    But if not that, then what?
    Abby shot another look at the mock room’s opening, finding the salesman no longer in sight. Then she gazed back at Cal. “Are you talking about the tub?”
    He just shrugged, and she decided to take that as an affirmative answer