Page 4 of Flirting with Forever

She jumped to her feet and turned. “Does anything show?”

Jeanne frowned. “Depends what you mean by ‘anything.’ Officesluts would take a pass, but the folks at Hillbilly Hose are gonna love you.”

Cam looked down. Panic was seeping in. The hole in her panty hose was enormous. She looked like her thigh had been attacked by a meat grinder. She scanned the room for potential fixes. A scarf? Too weird. A Sharpie? Too black. Her yoga pants? Too weird and too black. “Jeeeaaaaaannnnnne!” she wailed. “Help!”

Jeanne sprang into action. She pulled a spray can out of her purse and pulled off the cap. Cam’s hands flew up instinctively to cover her eyes. “Mace?!”

“Not Mace,” Jeanne said. “I used it before my date last night. He liked it.”

Cam spread her fingers.

“It’s foundation,” Jeanne said. “Spray-on.”

“It says ‘Spray-On Tan.’”

“Half the price.” Jeanne put the can in Cam’s hand. “Here.”

Cam gazed down uncertainly. That run ran really high. “Er…”

“Just point and shoot. Like a camera.”

“I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, but I don’t actually point a lot of cameras down there.” She lifted her leg tentatively and gave the canister a squeeze. “There. How’s that?”

“Great. So long as you’re tanning your desk.”

Cam looked. The spray had made a happy sunflower shape on the wood. “Oh, man.”

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.” Jeanne took the can and bent. “I’m expecting to see this reflected in my performance review, by the way.”

“Ooh! Felt that one.”

“C’mon, you. That’s right, that’s right. Oh yeah. Beautiful.”

“Er,” someone said. “Am I interrupting?”

It was Jacket, Cam’s ex-fiancé, in dark jeans and a worn leather jacket, looking as sexy as someone could whom she’d kicked out of her bed six months ago. Sexier, actually, which was not a good sign.

Cam closed her leg, then immediately flung it open. “Still wet.”

“I’ll bet.” He slouched against the door and smiled.

Jeanne gave Cam a private eye roll. “Steady, girl,” she said under her breath.

“Jeanne was helping me with a run in my panty hose.”

“Mm.”

God, what was it about that gritty London growl? Even an mm sounded like the whir of a sex toy. Cam had to be careful. This was how she’d gotten in trouble in the first place.

“I came by to pick up the spare keys. It’s really nice of you to let me use the condo.”

Jeanne whipped her gaze in Cam’s direction. Jeanne was not a Jacket fan.

“Er, well, it is still half yours, after all,” Cam said, more for Jeanne’s benefit than for his. “You’re finalizing your stuff for the exhibit. Offering you the guest room seems like the least I could do, right?”

“Still…” He gave her a smoldering look.

“Yes,” Jeanne agreed with a look for Cam that far out-scorched Jacket’s. “Still.”