Chinese dress. He could feel her breasts growing and swelling under his hand. He could feel the nipples hardening.
She was probing his mouth, and his heart was pounding, his jeans getting very tight. He was searching for a way to get his hand inside her dress, but there didn’t seem to be any opening. He dropped his hand down along her thigh, trying to find the hem. The dress had ridden up on her until it was just below her knees. He put his hand inside, touching her cool, smooth flesh. At the very instant that he started to move his hand up the inside of her thigh, she broke the kiss off and moved backward immediately. She said, “Why, Marshal Long. Whatever do you think you are doing?”
He said, stammering a little, “I thought you knew what we were doing. Wasn’t just me, Shirley.”
She said, “Custis, I think that you are being a little presumptive. You told me that you were leaving on a long trip.”
He said, “Well, I don’t know how long it’s gonna be … it could be a week, could be two weeks, maybe a little longer.”
“But you are going on law work, aren’t you?”
He said, “Well, uh … yes. Yes.”
“That’s dangerous.” She said it matter-of-factly, as if it were a statement that needed to be out in the open.
He was so taken aback that he was still fumbling for words. He said, “I suppose that one could consider it that, yes, I suppose so. Shirley, what is going on here?”
Very primly she sat on the couch and inched away from him, smoothing down the skirt of her silken dress. “Well, Marshal. A girl has got to look after herself. No one else is going to protect the future of a widowed young woman. Here you would come around and take advantage of me, and you going off on some sort of dangerous job. My husband was a man in a dangerous career—he was a gambler at cards, at horse racing, and now I end up a dressmaker. No, thank you.”
He sat there stunned. He didn’t know what to say. Finally, a few words tumbled out. “Shirley, you can’t just lead a man on like this. I mean … it’s not healthy. Good heavens, you’ve got me all worked up here. I’m as lathered up as a horse … a horse that has been run three miles.”
She said primly, “Well, that’s not my doing, is it?”
He looked around. “Well, I’ll be damned if I see any other woman in the room.”
“And I suppose you didn’t have something in mind yourself? I suppose I planted the idea in your mind?”
He said, motioning, “Well, the way you’ve got yourself up and the way you received me, if I hadn’t had something on my mind before, I damn sure would have five minutes after I got here.”
She said, “Why don’t you have another drink while I go and see to supper? It’s chicken. I hope you like chicken.”
He watched her get up and cross the room, his mouth hanging open. He said, “Well, yes. Of course, I like chicken. Of course, there’s something I like much better.”
She turned at the kitchen door and smiled at him. “But you’re not going to have that.”
“Would you just as soon I left?”
“Oh, no. No, you can’t leave. Not after I’ve gone to all this trouble.”
“But, what is going to happen? We’re going to eat supper, but then what?”
She gave him a very impish smile with her full-lipped mouth. “I’m going to show you what will be waiting for you when you come back safely from your dangerous mission. Perhaps then you will view me in a different light and think of me more seriously.” With those words she pushed open the swinging kitchen door and disappeared.
He sat there very thoughtfully. He poured himself out another drink of the bourbon and sipped at it. He knew where the misunderstanding was between himself and Shirley Dunn. She wanted him to understand that she was the marrying kind and not just some toy to be played with at his leisure. He couldn’t blame her for that, not in the slightest. And he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to become involved with a man who was indeed in a dangerous profession. if one husband had died violently, she wouldn’t want to be involved with another who ran the same risk. He had no answer to those questions. One thing he could have told her, but hadn’t, was that he was not interested in getting married. It didn’t make him feel guilty given the circumstances, but he decided it was going to be very definitely an unusual night.
Just how unusual he didn’t realize until she called from the kitchen, “Go and wash your hands. I’ll be putting supper on the table in just a very few moments. There is a little washroom just on the back porch straight down the hall in front of you.”
He did as she directed, pumping water into a basin, washing his face and hands with soap, and drying them on a big fluffy towel. After that, he walked back into the dining room area and looked at the table. It was set for two. He noticed she had particularly fine china and crystal. Her husband must have been a pretty good gambler, he thought to himself.
He was just about to take a seat, when the kitchen door came open and she backed through carrying a small tray in each hand. As she turned around and came around the door, his mouth fell open. She was wearing nothing but a small half apron, a chintzy little affair that was rounded and only went halfway down her thighs and was tied just below her navel. His first amazement was at the size of her breasts. She was one of those little women who have much bigger breasts than you expect. They were easily the size of half cantaloupes. They looked firm and uplifted. The nipples were big and the rosettes were pink and round as silver dollars. He stood there staring. She smiled at him as she set the platters on the table. She said, “Why Marshal, haven’t you ever seen fried chicken before?”
He swallowed, the words that had been about to come out sticking in his throat. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve seen fried chicken before. I just never seen it dressed quite so nicely.”
She smiled again. “Well, let me get one more thing and then we’ll be ready to eat. You go ahead and sit down.”
