“And some showering,” he said.
She looked at him with narrowing eyes. “And some shaving. But first, the talk.”
“What about?”
“Why do you suddenly not have a place anymore?”
“I don’t really want to go into it right now.”
“If you want to be with me, you have to.”
He looked down at his bundle of clothes but held her in the corner of his eye as he said, “It’s just temporary. It happened this morning, and I haven’t had time to do anything about it yet.”
“So it was unplanned. You just got here a month or two ago, right? So you must have been renting. I know you have enough money to pay the rent, because we stole it together last night. So it was a fight with a roommate, right?”
He wobbled his head from side to side. “Well, sort of. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find a nice place in a day or so and invite you over to see it.” He held up the roll of clothes. “Is it all right if I take my shower now? I think we’d both like me better after I’m clean.”
“Not yet,” she said. “It was a girl roommate, wasn’t it? Tell me the truth.”
“Yes.”
“And she figured out what you were doing last night and threw you out on the street.”
He wobbled his head again. “Not exactly. Are you sure talking about this doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”
“I’m positively enthralled.”
“All right, then. She didn’t figure out what I was doing last night. She and I didn’t even talk about last night. She was asleep when I came in. I waited until she was up and awake, and then told her I was going to have to move out.”
“You did?”
“Yeah,” he said in a low, sad voice. “She’s a nice person, and I realized that it wouldn’t be fair to keep living there and giving her the impression that we might have some kind of future together. This isn’t her fault.”
“It’s about me, isn’t it?”
“It’s about me. I know you’ve got some commitments of your own—a boyfriend and all that. It’s just that if I could meet you by chance in a diner and feel the way I do about you after a couple of hours, then I have no business living with somebody else.”
“Wow,” Carrie said. “Wow.” She reeled like a fighter after an unexpected punch. “I can’t believe you’re real. Where did you come from?”
“Indiana, originally.”
“You’re so sweet and dumb. Didn’t it even occur to you that if you kept quiet you could have both of us?”
“I won’t lie to you. Of course it did. But I went out for a walk this morning and thought about it. I decided I wouldn’t want a woman to do the same to me.”
“Amazing,” she said. “He’s reinvented karma, all by himself.”
“My mother always called it the golden rule.” He studied her expression, wondering if he had gone too far with that one. He saw that she was studying him too. Her eyes narrowed and her brow crinkled. Yes, he must have gone too far. She was going to throw him out too—the second one in a day.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re blushing.” She placed both small, graceful hands on the sides of his face and lifted his head a little. “I can’t remember seeing a man who blushed—and an outlaw like you too. A regular desperado.” She kissed him. “Your face is so warm. Come on. Let’s go get that shower now.”
She took his hand and led him through the house to the master bathroom. She opened the shower door and reached in to turn on the faucets and adjust the temperature, then stepped back. She unbuttoned her blouse, took it off, and then the bra, and then seemed to notice that he was watching her. “Get undressed.”
“Are you taking a shower too?”
“You just dumped your girlfriend for me. If I don’t scrub your back, who’s left to do it?”
“Look, Carrie. I didn’t break up with her to make you feel guilty or something.”
“Who’s guilty? I don’t do guilt. You just got me all turned on.”
“Oh,” he said. “That’s good.”
“You bet it’s good. Hurry up. We’ve got a lot to do before we leave for the restaurant.” She stepped into the shower and held the glass door open while he stepped out of his clothes and into the torrent of warm water.
They made love in the shower, and then again on the bed. In the lazy, comfortable minutes afterward, she sat up suddenly. “We’ve got to get ready.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I’m getting hungry too.”
“Did you happen to notice the way I was dressed when you arrived?”
“Yes.”
“Like it?”
“Obviously.”
“Then I’ll wear those clothes. I only had them on for five minutes while I was waiting for you.” She was up and scurrying around, stepping over him and leaning down to snatch up clothes she had left on towel racks and counters. She glanced at him. “Get moving, Bud. The razors and shaving cream are in this drawer.” She opened it and stepped away. “Don’t dawdle.”
He stood and put on the clean clothes he had brought, and then shaved with a pink razor. While he was cleaning the sink, she reappeared with her makeup on and her hair brushed and her purse over her shoulder.
“You look amazing.”
“Just so I don’t look as though I just got laid. Toss your dirty clothes in the hamper in my dressing room. We’ll wash them tomorrow.”
“We will?”
“Can you really not know that I’d want you to stay here tonight?”
“I didn’t ask because it seemed like assuming a lot.”
“Get over it, and get going. Zip-zip-zip.”
As he went into the dressing room and put his dirty clothes in the hamper, he marveled at the world. How could a woman as cynical, crazy, and alert be such a sucker? She was far too smart and too self-indulgent to get manipulated into taking him in like this. She should have seen him coming from two streets away. And there was the question of her appearance. A woman that beautiful must have been conned by older and more experienced men when she was about fifteen. By now she should have assumed that every man who spoke to her was a liar.
“Jeffrey!”
“I’m not a Jeffrey,” he said. “I’m a Jefferson.”
“Well, whoever you are, come on. Thousands of years of Chinese cooking and I have plans for tonight, and we’re waiting for you.” She snatched up a tissue from her vanity and whisked it across his cheek. “Missed a spot. Now you’re beautiful.”
She stepped past him to the dresser built into her walk-in closet and pulled out her big .45 pistol. She checked the magazine, clicked it back in, and put it in her purse.
“They’ll kill the chickens before we get there. You won’t need a gun.”
“Don’t you have yours?”
“Not on me. It’s in the trunk of my car with my stuff.”
She stopped and folded her arms. “Go get it. I’ll wait.”
“I don’t need it.”
“Yes, you do.”
He studied her. She stared back up at him, unmoving.
“You’re weird about guns, aren’t you?”
“I could remind you that we robbed some armed guys last night and shot one of them. I could say there are circumstances and reasons right now why your being armed will make me feel safer.” She paused. “But yes. I’m weird about guns.”
“You might want to put your therapist to work on that one.”
