Chapter 7
Peggy didn’t understand how Meredith and Jill had corralled her into joining them on a girl’s shopping trip to Denver. Jill had announced she needed lingerie after the successful Valentine Day’s picnic with Brian. D-Day was dawning, Jill said—the Deed Day.
Great, like Peggy needed to know her friend had picked out a day to get it on with Brian.
Still, the two sisters made her laugh, and she’d been wanting to see Denver. So far the tour sucked. They’d spent three hours in Cherry Creek Mall.
She detested shopping, especially this lingerie binge. The bright colors, lacy teddies, and padded cups had her stuffing her hands deeper into her well-worn jeans. Padded cups? Heck, she wished they had something to squash her “girls” down.
Didn’t they understand jiggling was embarrassing? Busting into a crack lab and pursuing a fleeing suspect with your girly parts bouncing like basketballs suited a porn flick more than it did real life. Cops weren’t supposed to have cleavage. She couldn’t lean over a perp and squeeze out a confession with her décolletage sticking out.
Jeez. These people must think women sat around dreaming of situations where they could push ‘em up, push ‘em up, way up.
Exotic mannequins with nipples were propped up all around in various sex get-ups, some of them so obscene she wanted to shield her eyes. These weren’t the androgynous figures she’d grown up with at JC Penney. She eyed one lone guy fingering a black lace mesh body suit. What in the hell was the purpose of putting on something that made you as buck naked as a jaybird? Plus, wouldn’t it rip? Was that the point?
“You should try this on, Peg,” Jill suggested. “It compliments your dark hair.”
The purplish nightie’s price boggled her mind. How could it cost that much when there was hardly any fabric? Plus, she lived in a winter state. She’d freeze her ass off wearing something like that.
“I’ve got a kid. Remember? I can’t prance around the house in that.”
“It’s all about intention.” Jill held up a neon-green padded bra. “If you buy it, you’re telling the universe you’re ready for some action.”
“I’m a single mom. That’s not high on my priority list.”
“Tanner is going to love that, Mere,” Jill told her sister, who was holding up a black lace teddy.
Peggy shuddered. “Please, that’s my brother you’re talking about.”
“Like you don’t know we have sex.” Her sister-in-law dropped it in her pink shopping bag.
“I don’t need any details.” She shifted on her feet. Would it be impolite to suggest they meet up later?
“Oh, come on. There has to be something you like,” Meredith said.
“Look, I sleep in a T-shirt and sweatpants.”
The lone guy dug through the bra bin like he was digging for gold, making Peggy wonder if he was a cross dresser.
“Didn’t you wear lingerie when you were married?”
The guy picked up a black bra studded with silver spikes. Dear God, it was straight out of an old Madonna video. He dangled it, eyes as bright as a drug user’s. She looked over at the security guard and wondered what kind of crap he had to deal with in this joint. There couldn’t be enough money in the world to entice her to work here.
“No, not really. Frank wasn’t into that stuff.”
Jill snorted. “Every man likes lingerie, trust me.”
“Not Frank.” She stilled. He’d cheated on her, hadn’t he? Maybe he had been interested in all this crap. She walked over to the cosmetics aisle to give herself some room. The cloying fragrance made her eyes smart.
Who the hell cared if Frank liked this stuff, anyway? If he cheated on her because she didn’t wear some scoop-your-boobs-up bra, then he was even more of a weasel than she thought. She shrugged it off. Her hands sought out her badge in her purse. She knew who she was.
“Hey, Peg, do you think Brian will like this?” Jill held up a tropical print nightie.
If you’re going to a luau. “Jeez, I don’t know. Stop asking me. Do I look like I’d have a clue?”
Jill shook it like a burlesque performer. “Come on, you work with guys. Would they find this hot?”
“Why don’t I send a photo to the sheriff?”
“Haha. Seriously. I want my first time with Brian to be perfect.”
Her head started to pound from all the questions and the perfume. God, gunpowder from the firing range smelled better than this nonsense.
“So long as you’re putting out, men don’t care. All this crap is for a woman’s confidence.”
Meredith slung an arm around her shoulder. “As someone who wore La Perla after her divorce for that very purpose, I can confirm that you’re right. However, I will add that your brother loves this stuff almost as much as I do.”
Peggy gave her a light shove. “Jeez, could you give it a rest?” Maybe if she changed the topic, Meredith would lay off. “Jill, I’m glad you’ve finally decided you can trust Brian enough to let him into your pants. After all these years you could wear a potato sack, and he’d still drag you to bed.”
“Probably true, but I want to reward him. He’s shown incredible patience.”
“I’ll bet,” she drawled and realized how cynical she sounded. “You’re blushing again.”
“I need to go to the doctor. See if there’s a pill.”
“It’s called embarrassment. Now, please have mercy. I really need to leave this store. If I have to watch that guy touch one more thong and wipe his mouth, I’m going to tell him to take a hike. Plus, it stinks like a whorehouse in here.”
“You ever been in one?” Jill flicked another bra into her bag.
She rolled her eyes. “It was more of a crack house, not really the bordello type.”
“Oh, the good ol’ days. Satin and lace. Men with cigars.”
“You have a pretty romantic view of prostitution.”
Meredith stepped in. “Okay, let’s try these things on. Peggy, I won’t ask you to come with us.”
Her fingers rubbed her brow as they disappeared behind a cream and pink wall. The weirdo wandered her way, holding three black thongs and snap crotch teddies. God, imagine being the person who invented that. What a proud moment in science—or fashion—or whatever.
The sisters’ laughter carried out of the dressing room. Who knew some girly outing would become a comedy show? Still, it made her smile, hearing them. They were like an alien species sometimes, but they always drew her to them.
She texted Tanner to check on Keith, ending the message with, Save me. I’m in shopping hell.
His immediate response pinged. Keith is fine. You decided to go. Save yourself. Is Meredith buying anything interesting?
Her mouth twisted. I am so not describing your wife’s undies, she texted back.
Sweet. Something to look forward to. Have fun. Snort.
God, he’d been acting so weird lately. The Hale alien species had converted him.
Crowding into a corner seemed like the smartest strategy. A brown velvet nightgown drew her gaze. It reminded her of a bear’s hide. Her fingers itched to see if it was as soft as it looked. She checked over her shoulder to make sure Meredith and Jill weren’t around and darted a finger toward it. The rich, smooth texture rippled. Finally a color she could approve of. Weren’t most men color blind anyway? Bold colors were wasted on them.
Plus, this looked warm—well except for the missing sleeves. But the length was good. Then she realized she was thinking about taking it off, letting it fall in a puddle at her ankles. She needed to get a grip. Maybe it was that hideous smell, making her light-headed. The price tag boggled the mind. She could feed her and Keith for a month on that amount.
“See something you like?”
She spun around and shoved her hands in her pockets. Meredith raised an eyebrow. Jill gave a dopey grin.
“You two sounded like drunk sorority sisters.”
“This brown one would suit you,” Jill said. “It’s not slutty.”
“I appreciate the character reference.” Peggy’s gaze slid back to the gown. “It’s not the worst thing in here.”
“Hmm…” Meredith elbowed her sister.
“I’m going to check out.” Jill said, grabbing Peggy’s arm.
“I need to change a size.” Meredith sauntered off with a skip.
Peggy waited by the counter as the clerk wrapped Jill’s medley of carnal clothing like it was fine china. This store was so weird. Why waste money wrapping stuff that couldn’t break in bright pink paper?
Jill produced a flashy credit card when the clerk recited her total.
“You know you aren’t going to have those on long enough to justify the debt.”
“I don’t care. This is what you do when you date someone. Wear hot lingerie, have blistering sex. I’ve wanted to be with Brian for what seems like forever. Don’t ruin it for me.”
This is what people did? She never had. “Sorry.”
The sight of liquid gel pad breast lifters made her nose scrunch up. She could just imagine wearing one on a raid and popping it when some guy threw a punch. She’d die of embarrassment. The guys would never stop giving her crap.
“Okay.” Meredith appeared at her side, having checked out at one of the other cash registers. “I’m ready.”
“Me too.” Jill lifted her bags. “They should call this place Sex ‘R Us.”
Peggy led the way out of hell. She gave the lone guy her scary smile, making him drop the underwear. Brightened her day.
“Hey,” Meredith said, catching up. “I bought something for you.” She held out a bag.
Oh, please don’t let it be something with animal print. She didn’t want to look, but she didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Peggy reached into the bag and her fingers brushed velvet. She stared at Meredith as she pulled the brown nightgown halfway out of the bag. Her mouth turned dry. “I…this is too much. Meredith, seriously, I’ll never wear it.” Still, her fingers curled around it.
Meredith slid her arm through Jill’s. “Never is a long time. Please, it’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t take it. Think of it as an early birthday present.”
“My birthday’s in December,” she protested, her fingers betraying her by playing with the texture once again. When she realized what she was doing, she dropped it back in the bag.
Jill nudged her hip. “Let’s do lunch. This is the best shopping spree ever! And I’m having sex this week. I am woman. Hear me roar. Okay, Mere, your turn.”
“I am reporter. Hear me scoop.”
Jill swung their still-linked arms. “Good one. Now you, Peggy.”
“I am cop. Hear me shoot.”
They both laughed like loons and slapped her on the back. The sudden tightness in her chest almost hurt. She stuffed the pink bag into her purse, reminding herself that girly things weren’t for her. She was a cop and a mother—first, last, and always.
She’d throw the bag in the back of her closet when she got home where Keith wouldn’t look. Peggy McBride had no use for it—never had, never would.
Even as she told herself that, another part of her cried out, making the feeling in her chest so unbearable that she pulled out an antacid for relief.