Free Lynda's Lace by Lacey Alexander Page A

thing?”
    * * * * *
    Lynda had just changed into a pair of jogging pants and settled on the sofa to watch a little TV on Wednesday evening when the doorbell rang. She looked up, surprised. The only people who really knew she was staying at the apartment right now were Jordan and Liz, and neither was the type to stop by without calling first.
    Unless, of course, Jordan wanted to surprise her or something. She hoped not. She was just as in love with him as she’d been a few days ago, but the sobering realization she’d shared with Liz today had her wanting to keep to herself and think all this through.
    Everything Liz had said made sense—why give him up without at least seeing if he’d be open to some kinkier sex?—but that damn perfect vision he had of her remained so important to her, too important. She didn’t think she could go on playing prim and proper Lynda who wears lace and likes the missionary position. Yet she’d never been the delicate kind of woman a man cherished —and she didn’t want to stop being that, at least in Jordan’s memory.
    Clicking off the TV with the remote, she rose to open the door, shocked to find Jordan’s coworker , Ginger, on the other side. She’d had a few friendly conversations with Ginger at Jordan’s shop, but she couldn’t imagine what the attractive brunette was doing on her doorstep. As usual, Ginger looked fabulous in a pair of embroidered jeans, a clingy low-cut sweater that accentuated her breasts, and a fitted leather jacket. “Ginger—hi. This is a surprise.”
    “I know,” Ginger replied with a confident half-smile. “I’ve been sent on a mission.”
    Lynda blinked. “A mission?” Only then did it fully register that Ginger held a pristine white box with a pink ribbon tied around it. When she held it out, Lynda said, “This is from Jordan?”
    The other woman gave a short nod as she handed the gift off to Lynda. “May I come in? He wanted me to wait while you open it.”
    Lynda backed up a bit, allowing Ginger into the apartment, but she had no idea what was going on and felt a bit disoriented. The big, pretty bow on the box had Jordan written all over it, but the method of delivery was out of character and confusing.
    When she looked up, Ginger had headed toward the living room that overlooked St. Peter Street and taken a seat on the couch as comfortably as if she lived there. Still off balance, Lynda sat down in the adjacent easy chair, lowering the white box to her lap. “Um, not that I don’t enjoy your company, Ginger, but is there any particular reason Jordan didn’t deliver this himself?”
    Ginger smiled slightly, as if anticipating the question. “He said he just wanted to try doing things a little differently as a way to spice things up. He said to tell you to trust him and you’ll see where this is leading very soon.”
    Hmm. Spicing things up sounded good—even if not very Jordan-like. But she couldn’t imagine what he was planning or what Ginger delivering a gift could possibly have to do with it. “Okay,” she said, sounding a bit tentative, even to her own ears.
    Yet Ginger, always confident, appeared unfazed by Lynda’s uncertainty. “Go ahead. Open it.”
    “All right.” But this was getting weirder by the moment. What the hell was Jordan planning? Although…as odd as it seemed, she couldn’t deny the little frisson of anticipation now running like an electrical current along her skin.
    She pulled on the pink ribbon, untying it and letting it fall free around the package. Then she removed the lid to find, not surprisingly, some item made of lace resting in a nest of pink tissue paper. And— argh —not only was it lace, it was white lace. How much more virginal could you get?
    She tried not to cringe, tried not to let the sight ruin the building anticipation.
    After a quick glance toward Ginger, she pulled out the lingerie to discover it was a merry widow. Which, as luck would have it, was one of her favorite pieces of