Leaving Normal by Stef Holm (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

A black feathered-and-jeweled skimpy set was dangled in front of her.

"Not what I had in mind. I need more coverage."

Sarah homed in on a pair of fuzzy mules. "Oh, my God, look at these. Steve would just die. I wonder if they have my size? I'm going to ask."

Sarah wandered off to get help and Natalie was left to her own devices. Which was fine with her. She wanted to pick something that suited her own tastes, but it had to look good on her body. She needed breast support…which was a different issue entirely.

She wasn't real comfortable yet with the way her breast looked, and wondered if she'd ever be comfortable with it. She had two slashes for scars, not that big, but still—they marred the ivory skin of her breast and it did bother her a little to think about Tony seeing them. Which is why she wanted to buy something that had a built-in bra, something that looked so great he wouldn't want to take it off on top. At least that was her hope.

Natalie picked a few things, took them to the dressing room with her, and once inside the cubicle, she started the daunting task of trying on.

Two women in the next dressing room were talking, and while Natalie's subconscious had been focused on how she looked in her first selection, she grew aware of what the women were saying.

"This one looks better."

"No, it doesn't. It's cotton."

"But it's expensive cotton. I like to sleep in a cotton . T-shirt and cotton shorts."

"That's fine. I like sleeping in cotton, too, when I'm sleeping in my bed. But when I want to spend the night with Chris, I wear silk for a sex bed."

Sex bed.

Natalie paused. That's exactly what she was buying something for. A sex bed…

Gazing at her reflection, her hands rose to cup her burning cheeks as she studied her face and the expression that greeted her. Who was she? She was forty-three and trying on skimpy teddies for a thirty-four-year-old fireman's sex bed.

She swallowed, smiled. Then thought—yeah, that's what she was doing and it felt really good. It was exciting…promising. Wicked.

"But if I buy this for a sex bed, it's a lot of pressure," one of the women continued.

"Pressure for what?"

"An orgasm."

"Oh. Well, you can always fake one if you have to."

"Wouldn't he be able to tell?"

The woman heaved a sigh. "Fake orgasms, fake phone numbers. You give it to the guy because that's what he wants to hear."

Natalie began dressing in a black lace teddy and thought about Tony and how he was built, his strength and confidence. The way his lips felt on hers and the way he touched her.

With a certainty she would have bet money on, Natalie wouldn't be faking anything.

Chapter Nineteen

Reality Check

"Her name is Iris," Fred Miller announced over dessert.

The weekly Sunday dinner at his home quickly quieted down as he waited for the onslaught of questions. And he knew there would be a hell of a lot of them.

Sarah was the first to ask, "Where did you meet her?"

"Target, sort of."

"I knew it," Natalie replied, bright-eyed, as if she'd just won the lottery. "You got all bent out of shape about Target with me that day you gave me the crumb duster."

"I did no such thing."

Steve, his son-in-law, rose from his chair, reached across BreeAnn and shook his hand. "Good for you, Fred."

Fred took Steve's hand, thinking it a bit stupid. So what was the big deal? He had a woman he was dating and he liked her. No reason to take out a headline in the damn newspaper.

It had been increasingly more difficult to keep his feelings under wraps with his two daughters so suspicious of his every cough or sneeze.

He and Iris had been enjoying time together on her days off. They'd gone to the zoo yesterday. He'd forgotten how much he liked the Boise zoo. Afterward, they'd walked through the park holding hands like two lovebirds. It felt good to be out with her, look over and see her in the passenger seat of his Elantra with the sunroof open, wind in her hair.

"Did she like the balloons?" Natalie asked, ignoring the bowl of vanilla ice cream in front of her.

"She did. Very much."

Natalie smiled.

Sydney chimed in, "What balloons?"

Sarah supplied the explanation—Natalie must have blabbed. Why wasn't he surprised? "Grandpa got some pretty, round balloons and a red heart one and he gave them to Iris."

"Why do you like Iris, Grandpa?" BreeAnn scooped her ice-cream bowl clean.

"Because I just do." He felt his cheeks grow hot, red. He didn't like the scrutiny. Scraping his chair away from the table, he went to put away the dishes.

While it wasn't as hard as he thought to confess his love interest, he felt a sense of guilt just the same. Guilt for bringing a new woman's name into the family-dinner conversation. God forgive him.

But Fred was alive. And he wanted to live it with someone who put a skip in his step.

Iris was the bright spot of his day.

"We're glad you met her, Dad," Sarah said, coming to stand next to him and rinse her plate. "I'm not surprised she shops at Target."

"She works there."

Natalie joined them. "Really?"

"Housewares."

"That explains the new kitchen gadgets."

Fred sheepishly shrugged. "I can't resist."

"Her or the gadgets?" Sarah teased.

Putting hands on her hips, Natalie said, "Well, I think we should meet her. I want you to invite her for Easter dinner at my house."

Fred felt an instant's panic. He'd just barely gotten over admitting he had a thing for Iris. Now they wanted him to bring her into their fold? His daughters might question her to death and scare her off.

He begged off. "I'm sure she has other plans."

"She might not." Natalie held firm. "Ask her."

"Maybe."

"Dad, please." Sarah snuggled up next to him. "We want to meet her."

"But Easter is for family." He rejected the idea, didn't want things to get mucked up