Love and Romance, etc.
A Free Newsletter for romance novel lovers
By Bonnie Williams
Episode 12
Women: Manual Not Included
“Mmm, nice butt there, cutie.”
“Yeow!” Dillion Kinsey yelped as an attractive woman in tight jeans and a big grin walked by and pinched his ass. Geez, it was dangerous for a guy to walk in his own neighborhood. And it wasn’t the first time it had happened either. Last week, an old lady slapped him on the rear and told him he could come by her place anytime. He didn’t think he had a particularly cute ass—it was just a place to sit on as far as he was concerned. Maybe Jerry’s pheromones were rubbing off on him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate woman—he did. But today he was on a mission. Blake had asked him to find home repair manuals to guide them with the refurbishing of the outer façade of their home before the historical society ran them out of “Dodge.”
He knew the house was a craftsman’s style home because their granddad used to talk about it when they were kids. There had to be something useful, something more substantial than Granddad’s beer-induced nostalgic description of how the house “once was.”
Dillion figured the best place to start was the local bookshop. Since they’d be marking up pages and writing in the margins, the local library wasn’t an option. Plus, if he went to the book store he could check if the latest X-Men graphic novel came in—as long as he was there—right? As he stepped inside, Dillion recalled that he used to frequent old professor Starling’s bookshop when he was a kid. But he hadn’t stepped foot in the place for years since most of his collection could be purchased on-line.
The old place looked the same as it always had—at least on the outside. He’d heard old Starling died several years ago, and left the bookstore to his son. When he walked inside, Dillion found the place completely remodeled to look like one of those funky coffee house hang-outs. Ah shoot, he’d probably need to ask for help if he wanted to find anything useful. Unfortunately, he hated asking for help.
He groaned when two young women at the check-out counter giggled when they spotted him.
“Hiya,” one said. “You have nice hair, handsome,” one of them said as the other gave a coy wave with her index finger. “Yeah, nice enough for a girl to run her fingers through,” the other one mumbled to her friend. He let out an exasperated sigh, then backed himself into a corner. Out of sight from nosy females.
What was wrong with the women in this town lately?
Dillion wondered aimlessly through the store, but didn’t find the graphic novel section. He did, however, find a humongo magazine rack. “Cool,” he muttered under his breath. He stepped closer when one magazine in particular caught his attention and he picked it up. “Man, this artist is a genius,” he mumbled to himself as he thumbed through the glossy pages. As a cartoonist, Dillion appreciated the work of other artists who had made it big. He glanced through the pages. Not only did the guy create a huge following with a simply-made character, he also was a marketing genius. Or at least his marketing team was.
He carried the magazine along with him as he wound back and forth between the aisles, looking for the home improvement section. When he didn’t find it, he stuck his nose back in the pages as he walked. “’A billion dollar dynasty…making it big in the states and overseas…high-end New York line up.’ Man, if only.” His little daily comic strip only made it as far as his own town.
“Umf!” A hard blow to his temple caused Dillion to hit the carpeted floor like a sack of Idaho potatoes. His eyes went spotty as a sharp pain in his head made him moan, and he thought he saw an angel floating about his head.
“Oh, God! Sir, I’m so sorry. Please open your eyes.”
The angel was speaking to him, and stroking his hair. Mom? No, it couldn’t be his mom. She died years ago, and this angel smelled really good. That flowery scent brought him back to reality. Slowly, he opened his eyes and the fluorescent light above hurt his eyeballs. Dillion thought he heard other female voices said “geek” but he wasn’t sure.
“Sir? Please wake up. You’re too heavy for me to carry.”
That pleasingly frantic voice again. Squinting his eyes, he turned to find a pretty face belonged to that pleasant voice. “Hi,” he said. Boy, that was dumb. Her eyes were a stunning shade of emerald with cute little round glasses perched on a small nose that turned up at the end. Her face was framed by her copper-colored hair that brushed just passed her shoulders in long straight stands. Dillion felt an uncharacteristic urge to run his hands through it. He was never that forward with woman—especially ones he didn’t know.
Her hands cupped his face as she smiled down at him. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought I’d killed you when that huge volume fell from upper storage.” Her hands left his face, and tugged on his arm to get him to sit up. “You’re bleeding!”
Dillion lifted his hand to his forehead and his fingers came back with blood on them. Yep, he was bleeding all right.
“I’ll get you a bandage.”
Dillion grasped her arm before she stood. He wasn’t sure why, other than the fact that he was afraid might simply be an apparition. “I’m all right—really, Miss.”
The woman settled on the floor facing him with her legs tucked under. A throb started as the blood rushed back to his head. He went to place his palm to his aching temple when he saw what exactly had accosted him. It was indeed a very large volume and was spread open revealing a man and woman engaged in a yoga pose he’d only seen in Conroy’s old European pornos. But seeing it in a public place was a little jarring. He looked at Angel-face quizzically, and her face turned a pretty shade of pink. She looked away and cleared her throat.
“Um, an…academic study…of the sexual behaviors of humans,” she said.
“Uh huh.” He picked up the mammoth and read the title with renewed interest. “’Sex: An Illustrated User’s Manual.’ Strange, I didn’t think anyone needed a manual for that.”
He thought he heard her say “You’d be surprised” but when he felt like he had an elephant parked on his melon, he wasn’t sure.
“I think I sat on your magazine—“
“No, don’t—“ Dillion went to grab it from her, but she was too quick and his reflexes were stunted.
She laughed at the title. “’The Adventures of Hello Kitty?’” She continued to laugh.
He snatched it from her. “I know what you’re thinking, but this Yuko guy who created her is brilliant.”
“The illustrator is Yuko Yamaguchi—a woman, not a guy,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Oh,” he said, and looked at the floor and felt like an ass.
“Look, my dad is going to kill me if he finds out I hit a customer over the head. Please sit down in one of the reader chairs and I’ll get you that bandage and some water.”
He nodded his head and did as she instructed. She came back quickly and leaned down to reach his forehead. The white cotton shirt she wore parted a little as she leaned over. Dillion caught a glimpse of a satiny bra and a hint of cleavage. He couldn’t help it. It was just there within bulls-eye range. Her hands felt warm as she slid her fingers through his hair and away from his forehead to attend his injury.
“I’m Alice, by the way. Alice Starling. I figured you should know the name of your assailant.”
“Yeah, but we both know each others secrets, now.” He gestured toward the evidence left on the floor. “So I figure that makes us accomplices.”
She smiled at him and his heart nearly stopped. He could stare at that smile all day. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name? Or did I delete your memory banks when the sex manual made contact with your noggin?”
He held out his hand. “Sorry, Kinsey. Dillion Kinsey.” Her smile widened as she took his hand. He held it for a long moment as he stared at her plump bottom lip. He had a peculiar urge to run his tongue along the edge. He stopped his hand in mid-motion before he stopped himself from tracing his finger on it.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you Kinsey boys.” Her teasing expression soon switched back to genuine concern. “Mister Kinsey, I know you have every right to file a complaint for your injury, but I—“
His grasped her chin in his hand. “I’m not going to sue your family, Alice, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She let out a breath. “That’s a relief. I think my dad would ship me off to Bulgaria, or Ethiopia, or any place without plumbing or hair dryers, if I had another accident. Can I at least take you to dinner—or if that’s too, you know, date-like can I buy you lunch…or coffee…milk shake, or—there’s this great new candy shop in town, we could—Oh, Lord I’m not making any sense. Am I?”
He chuckled. “Not really.” It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one at a loss for words. “And any of those would do, but—“
“Oh, no.” Her eyes widened behind those adorable glasses. “You have a girlfriend, don’t you? I should have guessed a guy like you probably has several girlfriends, and…”
He stood up from the chair. “Alice.”
“Huh.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend. And dinner sounds nice.”
“Oh.” She stood on her toes and reached up to smack him a good one on the lips with one quick, noisy kiss. “Thank you.”
“Sure.” His brain hadn’t caught up with her. Did she just kiss him? His head was still spinning, but that was probably from the hit on the head that making him dizzy. “And no butt pinching.”
“Huh?”
Dillion shrugged. “Besides, any girl who can read sex manuals for a little light reading has got to make for an interesting date.”
“Funny. I was just thinking that a sweet guy like you who reads Hello Kitty must be pretty secure with his masculinity.”
“Don’t let the Hello Kitty thing fool you. My usual taste in reading is ‘Death of Captain Marvel.’”
“Ah, comic books.”
“Graphic novels,” he corrected.
“Right.”
Dillion noted how her face changed as she adjusted her glasses and look up at him. She cleared her throat with an obvious exaggeration.
“Now, what was it you came in for today, sir?” Her tone was all business.
A dinner date with volume-tossing, lip-smacking-good Alice Starling? Dillion wondered if he’d just agreed to more than he bargained for.
THE LONELY GUYS
Copyright© 2004 By Bonnie Williams
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