Vicki Thompson - Operation Gigolo

Tony had stuck Jeff’s business card in his wallet, and now it seemed to burn a hole in his butt. He longed to get it out and tear it into little pieces, but that would give Jeff more evidence that he was being defensive.

So he turned to look at Lynn instead. Yes, he was definitely heterosexual. He wanted to wring her neck for helping him get into such a ridiculous conversation, but even more he wanted to plant kisses on that neck.

She pressed her lips together and her eyes brimmed with laughter.

He lowered his voice. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“There goes my bid for the presidential nomination.”

“Tony! I didn’t know you had that kind of ambition.”

“I don’t, but if I did, I’d be dead in the water, and it’s all your fault.”

Her eyes rounded in innocence. “My fault? I defended you.”

“You were trying not to laugh the whole time. Very unconvincing defense, Counselor.”

“Want me to try again?”

“God, no. The harder we protest, the more he believes.” He found his own sense of humor gradually returning. “I’ve been accused of many things in my life, but never that.”

“You’re a very good friend, Tony. I’m sorry I laughed when you were dealing with him, but you have to admit it’s kind of funny. I never imagined somebody would draw that conclusion from our discussion.”

“No telling what the rest of the plane thinks, either, after I shouted out my sexual preference.”

“It doesn’t matter. I know you’re all male.” She paused and gave him a questioning look. “Aren’t you?”

“You’ll pay for that one, Morgan,” he said with a grim smile. And as the plane started its descent into the Phoenix area, he started anticipating the ways he might prove to her that he was, indeed, all male.

WHEN LYNN MADE everyone’s plane reservations, she’d coordinated the flights so that her parents would be waiting at the gate when she and Tony arrived. She had a grand entrance in mind.

After the plane landed and people began leaving their seats, Tony leaned toward her. “Let’s give our boy Jeff a head start,” he said in an undertone.

Just then Jeff stood and laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

Lynn smothered a smile as Tony flinched.

Jeff leaned over, and the crystal on a cord around his neck dangled next to Tony’s ear. “Keep me posted,” Jeff said. “I’m there for you if you need a friend.”

“Right.” Tony didn’t look at him.

“See you later.” Jeff gave Tony’s shoulder a squeeze and moved into the aisle.

“Not if I see you first,” Tony muttered under his breath.

“Don’t worry,” Lynn said, taking pity on him. “Have you ever once met someone again after sitting next to them on a plane?”

“I guess you’re right. Is he gone?”

“He just walked out the door. I think we’re safe.”

“Then let’s go play heterosexual games for your parents’ benefit.”

Lynn’s heart pounded as she pulled her wheeled carry-on down the jetway with Tony close behind. As long as she focused on her parents’ threat of divorce, she’d be fine. To avoid that, she’d be willing to do almost anything. She knew they loved each other, and they’d be miserable if they separated. She’d be miserable, too. They’d been a trusted anchor all her life, and she wouldn’t give up that feeling of safety without a fight.

Just before she emerged from the jetway, she paused and turned to Tony. “Ready?”

“Yup. As soon as we’re clear of the tunnel, I’m putting my arm around you. Look adoring.”

“Adoring. Got it.” She stepped out of the jetway.

The next few seconds delivered one sensory shock after another. First, she glimpsed her mother, whose usual conservative hairstyle had been replaced by the electrocuted look. The wild red curls were at complete odds with the stern expression on Gladys Morgan’s face, but they perfectly matched the lime green, shimmery material of her tank top and shorts. Lynn almost expected to see in-line skates on her mother’s feet, but instead she wore platform shoes.

About that time, Tony pulled her close and nuzzled her neck. “Kiss me, gorgeous,” he murmured.

“Tony, my mother—”

“Your mother needs to see some liplock.”

“She’s…oh my God.” Lynn’s gaze slid a few feet across the terminal and she discovered her father, his arms crossed and his expression grim as he watched her arrival. Bud Morgan hadn’t permed his hair—he’d shaved it all off. The terminal lights gleamed on his polished head, and fancy-looking sunglasses hung from a cord around his neck. The man who had worn either white dress shirts or neutral polos all his life had on a wild plaid shirt and bright orange shorts that hurt Lynn’s eyes.

“Hey, babe. Showtime.” Tony slipped his hand from her waist to her bottom and squeezed.

With a gasp of indignation, she turned toward him, and he swooped into a kiss, plunging his tongue into her open mouth. When she tried to struggle free, he held her head and continued the assault. Gradually, her surroundings began to fade as his tongue probed and teased, stroked and suggested. She lost her grip on her suitcase and discovered something to do with her free hand as she ran her fingers through the remembered silkiness of Tony’s hair.

The rhythm of her pulse changed from the adrenaline rush of seeing her parents’ new look to the insistent surge of desire for the man kissing her so thoroughly. A soft moan rose from her throat.

Tony lifted his mouth a fraction from hers. “That was…excellent,” he said, his breathing uneven.

Her father’s voice penetrated her fog of sensuous enjoyment. “If you’ve completed the tonsillectomy, Doctor, maybe we could get on our way toward Sedona.”

Lynn felt the blush rising as she pulled away from Tony.

“Lynn.” Her mother could get more reprimand into one syllable than anybody alive. “For heaven’s sake. Show some breeding.”

That made Lynn chuckle as she turned toward her mother of the lime-green fashion mistake. “Mom, Dad…” She took a deep breath. “I’d like you to meet the father of your future grandchild, Tony Russo.”

“Cleanse your conscience, my friends,” intoned a familiar voice.

With a feeling of foreboding, Lynn looked over to find Jeff standing on the outskirts of the group.

Tell them you’re gay, Jeff mouthed. Then with a smile and a wave, he started down the terminal.

As Tony muttered an oath, Lynn glanced quickly toward her mother, a legendary reader of lips.

“Gay?” Gladys looked from Lynn to Tony. “Who’s gay? I thought you were pregnant and he was the impregnator?”

“I am. He is,” Lynn said. “Forget it. Let’s go.”

Bud ignored his daughter and put a protective arm around Gladys’s shoulders. “I wish I didn’t have to be the one to tell you, Gladys, but I’ve learned a few things, living as I have in the soft underbelly of the city.”

“Take your arm off me,” Gladys said. “There’s no telling where that arm has been. And I want no more of that soft underbelly talk. It’s indecent.”

“Indecent?” Bud looked sad as a basset hound. “Try this one on for size. Our little girl and this…Tony person, have become what they call bi.”

Lynn choked. “Dad, we’re not! That guy—”

“By? By who?” Gladys looked completely at sea.

“AC–DC.”

“Look.” Tony sounded agitated. “You’ve got it wrong. We—”

“Isn’t AC–DC one of those rock groups?” Gladys asked.

“I’m trying to tell you they’re bi sexual, Gladys.”

“Saints preserve us.” With that invocation, Gladys slipped to the floor in a dead faint.

TONY REACTED instinctively. Dropping his duffel bag, he crouched beside Gladys and supported her head and shoulders against his knee. “Lynn, get some water,” he said. At least Gladys’s pulse was strong, he noted as he placed his fingers against her carotid artery.