Blue Eyes and Dimples

 

       “Girl, it’s your thirtieth birthday, a milestone in your life.  Of course you have to have a party.”

       Kaycee Marlowe made a face at her friend Joyce.  “I’m trying to forget I’m turning thirty, not advertise it.”

       “Why?  Thirty is not old,” Joyce pronounced with a smile on her face.  “In fact, it’s said that a woman is in her sexual prime in her thirties.”

       “Lots of good that does me.”

       Joyce laughed.  “You’re in the prime of your life, just getting started.”

       “I hope so.  Thus far, I’ve got a so-so job, a so-so car, I live in a so-so condo, and have had several so-so boyfriends that are so-so I can hardly remember their names.”  Kaycee stuck her tongue out and pointed her finger down her throat.  “Yuk!”

       “Yeah, your record with so-so boyfriends is practically legendary.”  Joyce stood and grabbed her purse.  “Just a few girlfriends on Friday night.  That’s all.  No big to-do.”

       “Promise?”

       Joyce gave her a two-fingered salute.  “I promise, and you don’t have to do a thing.  We’ll bring everything.  You,” she stabbed her finger in the air in Kaycee’s direction, “just have to be there.”

       “All right, all right.  And thanks, Joyce.” 

       After her friend left, Kaycee plopped on the couch.  She didn’t really want a birthday party, but Joyce was such a good friend she couldn’t say no.

       When Friday arrived, Kaycee was resigned to having the party and vowed to have a good time.  Joyce and Carol had stocked her kitchen.  Wine chilled in the fridge and appetizers lined the counter.  Her friends had even brought flowers.  Joyce opened a bottle of merlot and handed it to her.  She sipped the dark liquid.  “Mmmm, good.  Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.” 

       By eight o’clock, everyone had arrived.  The wine flowed freely, and Carol cranked up the music.  As Bog Seger belted out the lyrics to “Old Time Rock N Roll,” Joyce grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.  “Let’s dance, girl friend.”

       “All right.”  Kaycee swayed to the music.  “I’m a little dizzy.”

       “Don’t you mean ditzy?”

       “Yeah, that too.  I really like this song.”

       Carol joined them and soon all six of her friends were singing and dancing around the living room.

       “I’m glad you talked me into this,” Kaycee told her friends.  “This is much better than moping about turning thirty or facing it alone.”

       The doorbell chimed, and Kaycee danced toward the door.  She opened it and stared into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, and the cutest dimples—all wrapped up in a police uniform.  She turned to Joyce and wagged her finger.  “You bad, bad girl.  You got me a stripper.  Wahoo!”

       “Kaycee, no—“

       “Come on in,” Kaycee pulled the man into the room, “and strut your stuff.  Take it off, take it all off.”  She fumbled at the buttons on his shirt.

       “Kaycee, no—“

       The policeman grabbed her hands.  “Ma’am, I’m not a stripper.”

       “Right,” Kaycee said.  “Joyce, give me a dollar bill.  No, make it a five, or a ten.  I’m going to stick it in his belt.”

       “Listen, ma’am,” the man said.  “I’m a police officer, and we had a complaint about the loud noise.”

       “Noise?  It’s not noise.  It’s music.”  Kaycee danced around the officer, rubbing up against him.  His face turned beet red.

       Joyce grabbed her and pulled her away from the policeman.  “Just having a little party for our friend Kaycee.  It’s her birthday.  We’ll be quiet.”

       “No,” Kaycee said, “going to celebrate.”  She reached up and touched the man’s face.  “Boy, Joyce, you sure have good taste.”

       The blue eyes filled with laughter, and he…almost…smiled.  “Look, lady, I’m not a male stripper.  I’m a real policeman doing my job here.  I don’t want to have to arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

       “You can arrest me—anytime.  What’s my punishment?”

       He turned to Joyce.  “You need to convince your friend here this is not a joke.”

       Kaycee looked from him to Joyce and back.  “Joyce, what--?”

       “Honey, he’s a real cop.  I didn’t hire a stripper.”

       “Ohmigod.”  Kaycee collapsed on the couch.  Her face flamed, and she covered it with her hands.  “”Ohmigod,” she repeated.  Tears gathered in her eyes.  “I’m so embarrassed.”  She jumped to her feet, fled into her room and flounced on the bed. 

       In a few moments, Joyce came into the room.  “It’s okay, Kaycee.  He’s gone now.  I promised him we’d keep it down.”

       “Oh, Joyce, I just wanted to melt into the floor and disappear.  I made a real ass of myself.”  She wailed loudly and slugged the pillow.

       “Well, I don’t know if this helps or not,” Joyce patted her shoulder, “but you don’t have to see him ever again.”

       “Thank God, but he was a real hunk—gorgeous blue eyes, and those dimples.  To die for.  He must think I’m a real idiot.”

       “Oh, I doubt that.  In any event, I’m sorry.”

       “You didn’t do anything.  I’m the one that assumed…everything.  Has everyone else gone?”

       “Yeah.”

       “Well, at least I don’t have to face them again until Monday morning.  Maybe I’ll be over by humiliation by then.”  She shoved herself upright.  “Well, he’ll have a funny store to share with his buddies.  At least I entertained our ‘men in blue.’”

       “That’s the spirit.  I’m going to go clean up the kitchen.  You get some rest, and it’ll all be better in the morning.”

       Kaycee groaned.  “I just remembered I have a Condo Association meeting in the morning.”  A flush crept up her neck.  “I’m sure there will be some discussion about parties and keeping the noise down.”

       “Then don’t go.”

       “I have to—I’m on the New Carpet Committee, and I’m supposed to give a report.”  She grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it. 

       Joyce laughed and threw another pillow at her.  “Go to sleep, girl.  I’ll lock up on my way out.”

       Kaycee rolled over and closed her eyes.  She’d rest for just a few minutes, then she’d go help Joyce clean the kitchen. 

       Sunlight streaming across her bed woke her, and she yawned and stretched.  Dammit!  She’d fell asleep and never helped her friend clean up.  Despite last night’s disaster, she’d slept well.  Except for the dream.  She’d dreamed of the policeman with blue eyes and dimples.  And what a dream it had been.  Flashes of heat sparked inside her, and even though there was no one around, she blushed.

       She glanced at the clock—almost nine.  The Condo Association meeting was scheduled for ten a.m.  She lay there for several long minutes, trying to think of some excuse not to go.  Maybe she could plead illness.  Or maybe she could persuade her co-chair to make the presentation.  She crawled out of bed and found her address book.  Nancy Bellows – 274-9032.  She dialed the number.  When there was no answer, she sighed heavily.  She’d have to make the presentation.  She headed for the shower.

       A half hour later she paused at the meeting room door, trying to muster her courage.  A deep voice sounded behind her.  “Well, well, look who it is.  The birthday girl.”

       She whirled to face the speaker, and a gasp tore from her throat.  “You!  Oh, no!  What are you doing here?”

       “What?  No hello?”

       “Oh, I’m sorry.  Hello.”  She lowered her voice.  “Now what are you doing here?”

       “Well, since I’m your friendly, neighborhood police officer, I’ve been asked to speak to the female tenants on self defense.  It seems that two or three females have been accosted by a strange man wandering the grounds.”

       Kaycee ran her hand through her hair.  “Oh, I remember now.  I didn’t know it would be you.”

       “Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Marlowe.”  He stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

       “No, no, I didn’t mean that.  Wait a second.  How did you know my name?”

       He quirked an eyebrow at her.  “Last night, I had to make a report.  You are the person who lives there, and your friend gave me your name.”

       “Oh.”  Boy, I really sound like an idiot.

       “Have you had any problems around the complex?”

       “No.”  She didn’t look at him, just kept her gaze straight ahead, at his chest where his ID tag said Tim Reid.  “I’m sorry, Officer Reid.  Thank you for coming.  I’d best find a seat.  The meeting is ready to start.”  She tried to push past him but he grabbed her arm.  The touch sent shivers coursing down her spine.

       “I’m supposed to report to a John Jacobson.  Can you point him out to me?”

       “Yes, of course.  That’s him at the front table, the man with the red shirt on.”

       “Thanks.”  With a smile that weakened her knees, Officer Reid made his way down the crowded aisle.  He sure looked good—coming or going.

       Kaycee found a seat with the other Committee members.  To her relief, no one mentioned last night’s incident.  Somehow, she made her presentation and scurried back to her chair.  When Jacobson introduced Officer Reid, several women in the audience whistled.  Evidently, she wasn’t his only fan.  And when he asked for volunteers, every woman in the audience raised her hand.

       But he didn’t call on any of them—he pointed directly at her.  “Miss Marlowe volunteered earlier to help me.”

       She shook her head, but the Committee members urged her forward.  Against her better judgment, she joined him on the stage.  As he simulated an attack on her, he wrapped his arms around her.  Her knees turned to jelly.  Somehow she kept her footing.  His scent teased her senses, and she inhaled deeply.  Her body tingled in its most private place.  She leaned toward him.  When she realized what she was doing, she pulled away.  What the hell was wrong with her?  This man’s touch sent reason out the door.  When the demonstration was over, she exited the stage but didn’t return to her seat.  Instead, her cowardice sent her running to her condo.

       Once behind the safety of her door, Kaycee leaned against it and caught her breath, then went to the bathroom and washed her face, hoping the cold water would calm her frazzled nerves.  What a weekend!  And it was only noon on Saturday.  Would she survive it?

       She poured herself a glass of ice tea and headed for the patio.  But before she got there, the doorbell rang.  She backtracked and peered through the peep hole.

       Blue eyes and dimples.

       “Oh, no,” she groaned and rubbed her temple.  Evidently, her humiliation was not complete.  She opened the door.  “Officer Reid.  Can I help you?”

       “Yeah.  I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me tonight.” 

       “Dinner?”  That had been the last thing she’d expected him to say.

       “Yeah.  That’s what we call it when we eat a meal in the evening hours, at least where I come from.”  He grinned at her, and chills raced down her spine.

       She laughed.  “I’m sorry.  I sounded like an idiot.  Thank you for inviting me, but—“  She shook her head.  “I don’t think so.”

       He leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms over his chest.  He must have been several inches over six feet because he towered over her.  “And why not?” he asked.

       “Well, you know—“  She couldn’t finished the sentence.

       “I know you had a birthday, and I spoiled it for you.”  His blue eyes sparkled with laughter—and something else?  Interest?  “I want to make it up to you.”

       “You were only doing your job.  I made a fool out of myself.  I don’t always…attack men like that.  In fact, I never have before.”  She pushed her hair out of her face.  “Well, one time we went to see the Chippendales and I did stuff money in the…well, you know.”

       “No, I don’t know.  Tell me.” 

       He leaned closer.  For a moment, Kaycee thought he was going to kiss her.  Her lips parted, as if of their own volition, and she flicked her tongue over them.  What was it about this man that awakened her…desire?  She didn’t believe in love at first sight, so what was this?  Lust at first sight?  “I’ll let you use your imagination.”

       “Look, it was just a misunderstanding.  I’m assuming your friends have hired strippers before for your birthday?”  He raised a dark eyebrow.

       “Yes, for my 25^th birthday.  That one was dressed like a postman and said he had a ‘package’ to deliver.”

       Tim roared with laughter, his dimples deep and sexy.  “Then I can understand what happened.”

       “Thanks.  I appreciate your understanding that I’m not always an idiot.”

       “I thought you were cute and sexy.”

       “You did?”  She locked gazes with him.

       “Yeah.”  He leaned closer, and this time she knew he was going to kiss her. 

       He pulled her into his embrace.  At first, his lips were feather-soft, barely skimming hers.  Then he deepened his kiss, his tongue seeking entry into her mouth.  She met his questing tongue with equal abandon.  He kissed her until she was dizzy, and she leaned into him.  His hands entwined in her hair. 

       When he broke the kiss, he nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear.  Kaycee thought she was going to faint from pure bliss.  Her hands splayed against his chest.  She loved the feel of him, all…masculine.

       “So, about dinner?”

       She nodded.  “Okay, but you’re not allowed to mention last night.”

       “Deal.  Listen, since I’m not off duty until late, why don’t you meet me at O’Malley’s?  You know that place?”  At her nod, he continued, “About eight?”

       “Eight it is.

****

       Kaycee pulled her car into a parking place in front of O’Malley’s and glanced at her watch.  Ten til eight.  Her stomach churned.  She hadn’t been this interested in a guy for a long time, and she wanted to make a good impression.  She checked her hair and make-up in the mirror, then climbed out of her car and walked into the restaurant.

       When she gave her name to the maître’d, he led her to a table where Tim waited.  He rose to his feet and pulled a chair out for her.  “Hi there.  You look fantastic.”

       “Thanks.  Been waiting long?”  She slid into the chair.

       “Nope.  Just got here.  Would you like a glass of wine?”

       “You know what wine did to me before?”

       He laughed.  “You said I wasn’t to mention it.”

       “I forgot.  Yes, I’d like a glass of merlot.”

       Dinner went great.  Kaycee discovered they had a lot in common, and the conversation never lagged.  As they were getting ready to leave, someone called Tim’s name.  A man walked up to their table, a beautiful blond on his arm.

       “Timbo.  Good to see you, man.”

       “You too, Walt.  Hey Gloria.”  He turned to Kaycee.  “Kaycee, this is Walt and Gloria Sparks.  Walt and I have been on the force together for about five years.”

       Walt shook her hand, and Gloria smiled.  “Nice to meet you, Kaycee.”  He pursed his lips together.  “Kaycee?  Is this the gal who thought you were a male stripper?  What gave it away?  High tight little buns?”

       Kaycee’s heart seemed to stop.  Had Tim shared her most humiliating experience with all of his cop friends?  Were they all laughing at her?  Her face flamed, and she glared at Tim who in turn glared at Walt.  “Thanks, Walt.”  Sarcasm fairly dripped from his voice.

       “You…you told…you told everyone?  Oh, how could you?”  Without waiting for his response, Kaycee rose to her feet and ran for the door.  She heard Tim calling her name, but she didn’t slow down.  In ten minutes, she parked at her condo and dashed up the stairs to her apartment.  Her humiliation was complete. 

       When the doorbell rang, she knew it was him.  A glance through the peephole confirmed it, but she didn’t answer the door.  Then she heard a fist pounding on the door.  “Kaycee, I know you’re in there.  Open up.  I’m not leaving until I talk to you.”

       “Go away, or I’ll call the cops.”  She leaned her back against the door and swiped at the tears misting in her eyes.

       “Kaycee, let me explain.  Please.”

       She opened the door.  “Give it your best shot.”

       “Walt is my partner, and when you’re in my profession, you depend on your partner…for your life.  So you become really close.  I did tell him, but only him, about what happened, and how much I liked you.  I didn’t know he was going to shoot his big mouth off.”  He reached out and stroked her cheek.  “I didn’t tell anyone else.  I swear it.  Forgive me?”

       His touch sent chills racing down her spine, and her anger seemed to melt away.  “Well, maybe.  I’ll think about it.  Now come on in before someone really calls the cops.”  She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room.

       “Remember last night, you said I could arrest you at any time,” he said and pulled her into his embrace, “well, I’m placing you under arrest.”

       She quirked an eyebrow at him.  “Oh?  And what’s the charge?”

       “Theft.”

       She wrinkled her brow.  “Theft?  What have I stolen?”

       “My dreams.  I had a dream about you last night.” 

       His sexy smile and raised eyebrows told her his dream of her had been …as hot…as her dream of him.  “A dream?  I’m sure it was a comedy.”

       “No, it wasn’t a comedy.  But I did want to see you again so I traded places with the officer who was supposed to give the self defense presentation today.”

       “You mean you weren’t supposed to do it?”

       “No, I was scheduled to be off today, but I knew I had to see you again.” 

       Kaycee’s knees went weak.  None of her so-so boyfriends had ever wanted to see her that bad.  She gazed into his eyes, trying to judge his sincerity.  His blue eyes held nothing but warmth.  In fact, they seemed to burn with blue fire.  “All right, I forgive you—but on one condition.”

       He quirked a dark eyebrow at her.  “For you, anything.”

Kaycee took a deep breath.  She couldn’t believe she was going to say the next few words.  “You have to strip for me tonight.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her.  “Anything for you.

Oh yeah, blue eyes and dimples.