A Trashy Affair Read Online Free PDF Page B

Merlin’s size. But what had he done except offer her his mama’s gumbo and clean her yard all day? Feeling foolish but not removing the obstacles, she stripped down and showered quickly giving her hair only a once-over with citrus-scented shampoo.
    Toweling off, she realized she hadn’t brought fresh clothes into the bathroom. She could try to streak to her bedroom and hope Merlin wouldn’t notice or simply put on the pink sweat suit hanging on the back of the door. She used it to exercise at the all-ladies gym, but hadn’t had the time lately. Good thing because the baggy top and pants were still freshly laundered. Jane took a whiff of her underwear and decided going commando might be better. After all, sweat suits, even pink ones, did not scream, “Take me right now on the kitchen table, you big, hunky male.” She combed out her hair and added pink bunny slippers to her ensemble hoping she projected the message, “No sex tonight.”
    Makeup free, she padded to the kitchen where Merlin scooped rice into two of her lemon-patterned earthenware bowls. He took in every inch of her outfit, then turned to ladle the gumbo over the rice.
    “I like a woman who looks as good without makeup as with. I can’t abide waking up to raccoon eyes and lipstick all over the pillows. You look as soft and sweet as those bunny slippers.”
    “I’m not soft and sweet! I’m tough and—and lemony.”
    “Sure you are, sweetheart.” He brought the bowls to the table and held a chair for her. When was the last time that had ever happened on a date? This isn’t a date. Remember that, Jane, remember. She took her seat, but Merlin lingered with his big hands on the bentwood back of her chair. He lowered his face very close to hers and inhaled. “Lemons, a nice, fresh scent.”
    “Would you mind getting the wine from the fridge?” Anything, anything to make him move away before she blurted out that he smelled good, too. He wore a clean, white shirt open at the neck, no undershirt, a little black chest hair showing. His jeans, a pale stone-washed blue, were new. Though he hadn’t shaved, he’d showered, probably at his own house since her bathroom remained immaculate. The dark hair she assumed to be would sweaty, he’d slicked back still damp. He exuded the scent of some spicy, masculine body wash when she would have figured him as a plain soap man. Merlin cleaned up nice after doing her yard. After doing her….
    Jane stood up so suddenly, she nearly knocked the two half-filled wineglasses from his hands. Good thing he hadn’t topped them off or she’d be wearing pink and red, not a good color combination for her. “Whatever is wrong with me? I am such a poor hostess. We should have salad with this and some dessert.”
    Jane bolted for the cupboards and grabbed a pair of wooden bowls. She dumped ready-made salad from a bag into them and placed one by Merlin’s gumbo. He still stood there holding the wine while she rabbited around the kitchen and took a pound cake from the freezer.
    “We can have this with ice cream and chocolate syrup. Lo-cal ranch dressing or fat-free Italian?” she asked as she seized the two bottles from the refrigerator rack and brought them to the table.
    “Ranch, I guess. I knew I should have picked up some potato salad and French bread.”
    “No, no. This is fine. Great. Sit and eat before the gumbo gets cold.”
    He set the wineglasses on the table and held her chair again. This time, he guided her with his hands on her shoulders. His heat and strength shot down the length of her body all the way to her bunny slippers. No, no, no. She preferred college-educated men who wore suits and shaved daily. Metrosexuals, yes, that’s what she liked. They had some of those in Lafayette, but not really in Chapelle. She needed to get out more. That was all. Jane took a gulp of wine. An awkward silence set in while she sampled the gumbo and Merlin prodded his salad with a fork as if the vegetables might not be