She ran the big teeth of her comb through her hair and pushed away the memory of her Estee Lauder lotion and powder locked in Virgil’s car. Pulling open cabinet drawers, she looked for anything she might use in her beauty regime. She found a few toothbrushes, a tube of Crest, a bottle of foot powder, a can of shave cream, and two razors.
“That’s it?” With a frown marring her forehead, she turned and rummaged through her overnight case. She pushed aside the plastic container of prescription birth control pills she’d started to take three days prior and pulled out her cosmetics. She found it extremely unjust that John could look so handsome with such a paltry effort while she had to spend hundreds of dollars and a good amount of time on her appearance.
Lifting a towel, she dried a spot on the mirror and peered at herself. Through the circle she’d wiped on the glass, she brushed her teeth, then applied mascara to her lashes and blusher to her cheeks.
A knock on the bathroom door startled her so bad she almost streaked her face with a tube of Luscious Peach lipstick.
“Georgie?”
“Yes, John?”
“I need in there, remember?”
She remembered, all right. “Oh, I forgot.” She fluffed the hair around her face with her fingers and critically viewed her appearance. She smelled like a man and looked less than her best.
“Are you coming out anytime tonight?”
“Give me a second,” she said, and tossed her cosmetics into the overnight case sitting on the closed toilet seat lid. “Should I put the wet clothes over the towel rack?” she asked as she gathered them from the white and black linoleum floor.
“Yeah. Sure,” he answered through the door. “Are you going to be much longer?”
Georgeanne carefully laid her wet bra and underwear over the aluminum rod, then covered them with the green shorts and T-shirt. “All done,” she said as she opened the door.
“What happened to keeping it short?” He held up his hands as if he were catching rain in his palms.
“Wasn’t that short? I thought that was short.”
His hands fell to his sides. “You were in there so long, I’m surprised your skin isn’t wrinkled like a California raisin.” Then he did what she’d expected the moment she’d opened the door. He let his gaze wander down her body, then climb back up again. A spark of interest flashed behind his eyes, and she relaxed. He liked her. “Did you use all the hot water?” he asked as a deep scowl darkened his features.
Georgeanne’s eyes widened. “I guess I did.”
“It doesn’t matter now anyway, damn it,” he cursed as he turned his wrist over and looked at his watch. “Even if I left now, the bar will run out of oysters before I can get there.” He turned and walked down the hall toward the living room. “I guess I’ll eat beer nuts and stale popcorn.”
“If you’re hungry, I could cook something for you.” Georgeanne followed close behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “I don’t think so.”
She wasn’t about to let this opportunity to impress him pass her by. “I’m a wonderful cook. I could make you a beautiful dinner before you go out.”
John stopped in the middle of the living room and turned to face her. “No.”
“But I’m hungry also,” she said, which wasn’t precisely the truth.
“You didn’t get enough to eat earlier?” He buried his hands up to his knuckles in the front pocket of his jeans and shifted his weight to one foot. “Ernie sometimes forgets that not everyone eats as little as he does. You should have said something.”
“Well, I didn’t want to impose any more than I already have,” she said, and smiled sweetly at him. She could see his hesitation and pressed a little further. “And I didn’t want to hurt your grandfather’s feelings, but I hadn’t eaten all day and was starving. But I know how older people are. They eat soup or salad and call it a meal while the rest of us call it first course.”
His lips curved slightly.
Georgeanne took the slight smile as a sign of acquiescence and walked past him into the kitchen. For a jock who admitted he didn’t like to cook, the room was surprisingly modern. She opened the almond-colored refrigerator and mentally inventoried its contents. Ernie had mentioned that the kitchen was well stocked, and he hadn’t been kidding.
“Can you really make gravy with tuna fish?” he asked from the doorway.
Recipes flipped through her head like a Rolodex as she opened a cupboard filled with a variety of pasta and spices. She glanced at John, who stood with one shoulder propped against the frame. “Don’t tell me you want creamed tuna? Some people like it, but if I never have to see or smell it again, I could live quite happy.”
“Can you make a big breakfast?”
Georgeanne shut the cupboard and turned to face him. The silky black belt at her waist came loose. “Of course,” she said as she tightly retied it into a bow. “But why would you want breakfast when you have all that wonderful seafood in your refrigerator?”