The expression on his face was indescribable. He coughed, strangled a little, and cleared his throat. “That was . . . ingenious.”
“I thought so. It wouldn’t have worked if I’d bought them at Wal-Mart or a chain pharmacy, but Barbara Clud is one of the biggest gossips in town, and she always tells what their customers bought. Did you know Mr. McGinnis takes Viagra?”
He coughed again, thinking of the bluff and hearty city councilman. “Uh, no, I didn’t.”
“Mrs. Clud told everyone. So I knew she’d tell about my condoms.”
He buried his face against her shoulder, breathing deeply. He was shaking a little, and Daisy snuggled him close. “There, there. It’s just small-town life. You’ll adjust.”
He lifted his head to see the humor sparkling in her eyes, and he gave up attempting to control his laughter. “If I ever need Viagra, remind me not to go to Clud’s Pharmacy.”
She considered the firmness pressed against her inner thigh. “I don’t think you’ll need it anytime soon. I didn’t think you were supposed to be able to get hard again so fast. All the articles I read—”
He kissed her, and she stopped talking to taste the honey. His eyes were heavy-lidded when he lifted his head. “Maybe I’ve been inspired. Or provoked.”
She took exception to that. “If anyone’s been provoking, it’s you—”
“I didn’t buy seventy-two condoms.”
She was silent a moment, digesting the meaning behind that; then a satisfied smile broke across her face. “So my plan worked, didn’t it? After a fashion.”
“It worked,” he said gruffly. “I kept thinking about the bubble gum flavor.”
The phone rang, interrupting them. Daisy scowled; she didn’t want to talk on the telephone; she wanted to play with Jack. She hesitated long enough that he said, “Answer it. It might be your mother, and we don’t want them coming over to check on you.”
She sighed and stretched beneath him, snagging the receiver and bringing it to her ear. “Daisy Minor.”
“Hello, sweetie. How did the hunt go last night?”
It was Todd, and normally she loved gossiping with him, but not right now. “There was another fight, and I left early. I think I’ll go to another club next time.” Uhoh; she hadn’t meant to say that in front of Jack. She deliberately didn’t look at him.
“I’ll ask around, find out which places are best. So there weren’t any prospects?”
“Not yet. I only got to dance three times.” She turned her head away from the mouthpiece and said, as if she were talking to someone else in the room, “I won’t be long. Y’all get started without me.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to interrupt you while you have company,” Todd said instantly. “I’ll call back later.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Daisy said, feeling guilty about her little deception but definitely not wanting to talk on the telephone when she could be making love.
“Enjoy your company,” he said gently. “Bye.”
“Bye,” she echoed, and fumbled the receiver back into place.
“Pretending to have company,” Jack chided, propping himself on his elbows so he could look down at her. “Slick.”
“I do have company. You.”
“But you definitely don’t want me to get started without you.”
“Definitely not.”
“So someone else is in on your husband-hunting scheme. Who is it?”
“Todd Lawrence,” she said, stroking her hands over his arms and shoulders. “He helped me with my hair and makeup and clothes.”
Jack lifted his eyebrows. “Todd.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, there was the slightest hint of jealousy in his tone. Daisy was thrilled, but at the same time she hastened to say, “Oh, he’s gay.”
“No he isn’t,” Jack said, startling her.
She blinked. “Of course he is.”
“If it’s the Todd Lawrence I know, lives in that big Victorian and owns an antiques store in Huntsville, he isn’t gay.”
“That’s Todd,” Daisy said, frowning. “But he’s definitely gay.”
“He’s definitely not.”
“How would you know?”
“Trust me. I know. And I don’t care if he did pass the puce test”
“He’s great at shopping,” she said, defending her position.
“Hell, I’m great at shopping, too, so long as you’re shopping for a car or a handgun, something like that.”
“He’s great at shopping for clothes. And he knows how to accessorize,” she finished triumphantly.
“You’ve got me there,” he admitted. “But he isn’t gay”
“Yes, he is! What makes you think he isn’t?”
Jack shrugged. “I saw him with a woman.”
She was momentarily flabbergasted; then the explanation occurred to her. “He was probably going shopping with her. I’m a woman, and he spent the entire day with me.”
“He had his tongue down her throat.”
Her mouth fell open. “But—but why would he pretend to be gay if he isn’t?”
“Beats me. He can pretend to be from Mars if he wants.”
She shook her head, bewildered. “He even likes Barbra Streisand; I saw the CDs in his den.”
“Straight guys can like Streisand.”
“Really. What kind of music do you like?”