Kimberly Raye - The Sex Solution

Duane was a maverick—fresh and creative, and not much for following rules. That’s what made him so brilliant. He wasn’t afraid to try new things. To take chances. Unfortunately, fearlessness equaled carelessness sometimes.

Madeline stifled a nervous flutter. She’d taken time off before, albeit only a few days, and her lab had still been standing when she’d returned. Of course, her desk had been a little charred around the edges after Duane had ignored the no-food rule and chowed down on a chili dog while mixing up a new acidic skin peel just inches away. Unfortunately, the chili had contained several spices that, when mixed with some of the acid compounds, proved combustible.

“Are you okay?” she demanded when he picked up the phone after the tenth ring.

“I’m not even eating chili today. But, man oh man, I could use a good cup of coffee. And a peanut-butter sandwich.”

She did a mental evaluation of the ingredients of both, and tried to pinpoint any contrary elements. Nothing. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances. “Eat in the break room.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Actually—” she started.

He rushed on. “I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’m a new man. Walking around without eyebrows for six months will do that to a guy.”

She thought about arguing the point, particularly since she’d found an empty coffee cup stuffed under the counter where she kept the petri dishes. But Duane was the type who had to learn on his own.

“Have you finished the trial tests for the new lotion?”

“Finished number five today. It’s good to go.”

“We need six before we make that determination.”

“I’ve had the same outcome for five. It’s not going to change. Trust me.”

“Did I tell you that I found a tattoo shop that does permanent eyebrows? Two hundred stabs of the needle and you won’t have to worry about growing yours back.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll do another test. What about you? Have you decided what we’re going to do to spice up this stuff? How about a flavored lotion?”

“That’s already been done.”

“We could do unusual flavors. Coffee. Peanut butter. Mmm.”

“We want to remind women of their sensuality, not what they had for lunch.”

“What about scented lotions?”

“That’s already been done.”

“We could do unusual scents.”

“If you say coffee and peanut butter, I’m firing you.”

“Hey, everybody loves the smell of a good cup of coffee, and peanut butter’s the universal bread spread.”

“Just finish the preliminary tests on the basic compound and feed the data into the computer. I’ll plug in later and review everything.”

“So what’s the zinger then?”

“I’m working on it.”

“I hope so. I’m getting claustrophobic in this tiny lab. I need some space. My own desk. My very own coffeemaker—”

“Did I hear slurping?”

“That was my stomach grumbling. All this talk has me hungry. And thirsty.”

“Keep it in the lunchroom.”

“Don’t I always?”

Madeline hit the off button, dropped the phone into her purse and glanced up in time to see Austin Jericho stroll out of Skeeter’s. He crossed the street, his strides long and sure, and climbed into his pickup truck.

She still couldn’t believe it. Austin Jericho had actually noticed her. And he’d remembered her. And he’d been attracted to her.

Madeline smiled. Maybe being home wouldn’t be all that bad, after all.

SHE HAD TO FIND a hot man now.

A man was all that stood between Madeline and the fifty points she needed to prove to each of her old friends—as well as every other person at Cherry Blossom Junction—that she had, indeed, turned into the baddest babe in Texas.

Her focus shifted to the game card she’d just drawn.

If a bad girl is what you long to be,

Forthright and daring are always key.

Even the hottest man loves a bold miss,

So prove yourself and give him a kiss!

“What about him?” Every eye at the table turned to peer across the semicrowded dance floor.

“Girl, get out of here,” Janice shook her head. “Your roots are showing, Eileen.”

“What, like, is that supposed to mean?”

“That you’ve been married so long you’ve forgotten what hot means. We’re not talking sweaty.”

Eileen, a petite blonde, stiffened and straightened her baseball jersey that sported Team Mom in royal blue letters. “Well, when I, like, sweat, it usually means I’m hot.”

“Ignore her,” Janice told the other women. “She doesn’t get out much. So what about him?” Janice wiggled her eyebrows and pointed out a man currently two-stepping around the dance floor, a smiling redhead in his arms. “He certainly can fill out a pair of Wrangler jeans.”

“He’s not very handsome.” Brenda Chance, ex treasurer of the Chem Gems, adjusted her wire-framed, rose-tinted glasses.

Brenda worked as an interior designer in Austin now, but in her day she’d recited the elements table faster than anyone in Kendall County. While she had a practical head on her shoulders, she also had a romantic nature that had her wearing an old-fashioned lace dress that looked suspiciously like a pair of window sheers.

“That’s definitely a face only his momma could love,” Brenda went on. “My Cal has a great face.” She sighed dreamily, then glanced around before zeroing in on another man. “What about him?” She smiled as she indicated the guy from their high school past voted Most Likely to Spit on Old People. “He’s got nice eyes—the exact color of Cal’s.”

“Girl, he’s about as nice as a pit bull,” Janice said. “Besides, he’s got puny arms. We need some muscle.”

“And good hands,” Sarah added.

Back in her day, Sarah Buchanan had been part of the in crowd, the only one among the Chem Gems. She’d been smart and beautiful and the baddest bad girl in Cadillac. She’d changed her ways the day of Sharon’s death, however, and she now sat quietly, her long red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail, her mouth void of the red lipstick she’d always loved. Longing filled her eyes for a brief moment. “I used to love great hands on a guy.”

“And a mustache,” Brenda chimed in. “They’re sooo dreamy. Cal has a mustache.”

“They’re lethal to supersensitive skin.” The comment came from the bride-to-be. “She’s supposed to kiss him, not break out.”

“Let me get this straight.” Brenda adjusted her glasses again. “She has to dance with him and kiss him?”

“If she wants to win the game,” Sarah said.

“So what if she kisses him but doesn’t dance with him? Does she get half the points?”

“Girl, it’s all or nothing,” Janice said.

“So does she, like, kiss first or, like, dance first?” Eileen asked.

“It doesn’t matter.” Madeline fingered the game card and scoped out prospects. “I could do either.”

“You can’t just walk up to a guy and kiss him,” Brenda said. “It’s too forward. Whatever would he think?”

Madeline smiled and indicated the game spread out on the table. “That maybe I’m the baddest babe in Texas?”

“I say you dance with him first,” Cheryl Louise offered. “Talk a little. Then kiss him. It’s more romantic.” She sighed and gazed dreamily at a man standing near the bar. A group of men surrounded him, their beers lifted in salute. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her. She waved back. “That’s how Jack and I met. He asked me to dance at the Charity Chili Chowdown last year. We ate and talked and swayed. Afterward he kissed me so softly and tenderly that I just knew he was the one.”

“How totally sweet,” Brenda sighed.

“How tame.” Sarah looked wistful.