Candy Apple Read online

  Candy Apple

  Tielle St. Clare

  Book 3 in the Red Panty Diaries series.

  Tasha has heard the tale of the cursed wedding dress since she was young. Now it’s her turn. Unlike her friends, who somehow each ended up with two men, Tasha knows she’s destined for just one—someone a little bland and boring, but she’s okay with that. She dons the dress to prove her fiancé is that man…but the dress doesn’t respond to him.

  However, it sure reacts to the sexy stranger in the elevator, leaving her standing there wearing nothing but candy-apple-red panties. One night of incredible sex leads Tasha to believe the dress has done its job. Imagine her surprise when it responds to another man, a bad-boy firefighter and cousin to the man from the elevator.

  Now Tasha’s got two lovers—and they aren’t inclined to share!

  CANDY APPLE

  Tielle St. Clare

  Chapter One

  Dear Diary,

  I pulled out the dress today. Cait’s found her true love, or loves if you believe her. So has Heather. Guess that means it’s my turn.

  Tasha stared at the two-carat diamond engagement ring weighing down her finger. The ring was gorgeous—elegant, classic, a little ostentatious, but Jason liked people to know he could afford the finer things in life.

  She took another sip of her wine. Though considering she was on her third glass, it was more of a gulp. Raising her eyes, she looked at herself in the mirror. The white wedding gown hung loose on her hips. She had one final step. All she had to do was zip it up.

  This would prove that Jason was the right man for her. Though why she was having doubts, she didn’t know. He was smart and sometimes funny. And they had so much in common. They talked about business and books and, uh, business books.

  No, they didn’t have the wild, incredible sex that Cait and Heather reported having with their men, but Tasha didn’t expect it. For one thing, she wasn’t the type to have wild sex. She tended toward a more subdued version of the whole process.

  Besides, she wasn’t falling into bed with two guys like her friends had. She had one man and that was plenty.

  But once she zipped the dress, there was no going back. She was stuck in it until Mr. Right came along and if Jason wasn’t Mr. Right…

  She shook her head—and the room began to spin.

  Do it, she commanded herself. He’s the one. He asked you to marry him. You said yes. You have to believe he’s Mr. Right.

  I do. I do believe it.

  Taking a deep breath, she reached behind her and tugged the zipper up her back. The strapless bodice curved to her chest. It amazed her how the dress conformed to different body types—Cait was statuesque with a large chest. Heather was more willowy. And Tasha was…well, plump.

  But what else could she expect? She owned two bakeshops and made the best chocolate chip cookies in the city. Carrying around an extra fifteen, sometimes twenty, pounds seemed like a reasonable compromise.

  She took a deep breath and a little shiver ran across her skin as her nipples pressed against the soft material on the inside of the bodice. Heather had warned her about that. She laughed. Heather had warned her about a lot.

  Heather was out tonight with “her men”. They’d come to town for a visit but based on the amount of luggage they brought, they were planning to stay. Once Heather had announced that she was taking Cain and Paxson out for dinner, Tasha knew tonight was her night.

  She didn’t know how Heather would react to Tasha’s plan. Probably support it. Hell, she’d probably offer to drive Tasha over to Jason’s apartment, but Tasha wanted to do this on her own.

  Of course, if Jason isn’t Mr. Right, Heather’s going to find out anyway when I come home wearing the dress.

  No one knew how the dress was cursed, just that it was. Once you put it on, you were stuck in it until you found your true love. Tasha’s mother had been the first to experience it shortly after her divorce from Tasha’s father. Her mom had ended up with a fantastic guy, Nick.

  Tasha had kept the dress for all these years. Now it was her turn.

  She picked up her glass, toasted herself in the mirror and tossed back the remaining wine.

  A honk outside made her spine straighten. Forcing breath into tight lungs, she grabbed her purse, pushed her glasses farther up her nose and headed for the front door. The taxi sat in the driveway. With three glasses of wine in her, no way was she going to drive.

  Besides, she expected to be spending the night at Jason’s and he had no on-street parking.

  The ride to Jason’s apartment building went quickly. So fast her head was still spinning by the time she got out of the car.

  She leaned back and looked up at the high-rise. She’d figured out which unit was Jason’s one night and wanted to make sure he was home. He’d said he was going to spend the night just kicking back, relaxing, that it had been a hectic week and he needed to spend some time alone.

  Tasha had willingly agreed. She understood that. Any Friday night she didn’t spend with Jason, she usually spent in her jammies, eating fried food and watching re-runs of Two and A Half Men. So she understood the need to hibernate.

  Still, if they were going to be married, they needed to learn to hibernate together.

  Pushing her shoulders back, she raised her chin and approached the front door. Carlton, the doorman, nodded politely—not even flinching at the sight of the ugly wedding dress—and said, “Good evening, Miss Bennett. You can go right up.”

  “Thank you.” She clutched the skirts and maneuvered into the open elevator. Strange, Carlton usually called up to make sure Jason was home and was expecting her. She’d never been allowed to “go on up”.

  She hit the button for the fifteenth floor and leaned against the back wall as the doors closed. Her heart thumped in her chest and her fingers clutched her purse until her knuckles turned white. Every breath came out as a gasp as she fought the restriction of the elastic bodice.

  The lights across the top of the elevator lit up one by one as the elevator inched its way up. She couldn’t decide if she wanted it to take a long time or to zoom up there so she could get this over with. The decision was made for her. This elevator didn’t zoom.

  Still, once the door opened, she realized she needed more time. She wasn’t ready. This was probably a bad idea except now she was stuck in the dress and she hoped to heaven that Jason was Mr. Right. How was she going to explain this to her employees?

  The bodice seemed to tighten around her waist. Panting, she propped her hand against the wall trying to ward off the minor panic attack. She could do this. If Jason wasn’t her true love, she was sure they’d have a good laugh then she could go home and drown in a tub of cookies and cream ice cream.

  Closing her eyes and her lips, she forced herself to take a long slow inhale through her nose, hold it and then slowly exhale. Hearing the voice of her Pilates instructor chime through her head, she took another few deep breaths and began to feel calmer.

  A stray curl flopped onto her nose and she swatted it out of the way.

  When Heather and Cait had met their true loves, they’d been wearing the dress, red panties and red high, high heels. Tasha had wanted to repeat their experiences as directly as possible, but there was no way she could wear four- or five-inch heels. It would totally ruin the effect of the dress falling off if she broke her ankle and had to be taken to the emergency room wearing nothing but red panties.

  So she’d opted for modest two-inch heels. It made the dress a little long on her but she wasn’t planning to wear the thing for long.

  Hiking the fluffy skirts up in her hands, she stalked down the hall to Jason’s apartment. Angry butterflies took residence in her stomach but she refused to let the nerves get the best of her and pressed the doorbell.

  She smoothed her hands down the front of the dress. Not that she had to worry. The thing couldn’t be wrinkled, or burned, or cut. It was indestructible. Still, it gave her a boost of confidence to feel her waist dip in nicely. Those Pilates classes and the elastic in the dress seemed to be working.

  The door swung open. Tasha looked up and smiled, wanting to see Jason’s reaction when he saw the dress. He was going to lau—

  Only it wasn’t Jason standing at the door. It was Jenny, his secretary.

  That bastard. He’s having an affair? With his secretary? How very Mad Men.

  Jenny smiled and looked down at Tasha’s outfit. The look of horror and confusion that crossed her face might have been funny if Tasha wasn’t so pissed.

  Jenny quickly recovered.

  “Miss Bennett,” she greeted her. “Won’t you please come in?” She stepped to the side and waved Tasha into Jason’s apartment.

  Okay, she’d never been cheated on before but she was pretty sure the mistress didn’t invite the fiancée to join them.

  It was then she heard noises—sounds of human voices, talking, laughing.

  No, it wasn’t an affair. He was having a party.

  One that he hadn’t invited her to. Okay, she could handle that. She had girls’ nights that he wasn’t allowed to attend but why had he lied about having it? Maybe a bachelor party? No, why invite your secretary to that? An orgy?

  She glanced past Jenny’s shoulder to the sunken living room just down the hall. Everybody she could see was dressed in black or gray business suits, only the shades varied.

  Definitely not an orgy.

  Jenny once again glanced at Tasha’s dress.

  “Would you like me to find Jason for you?”

  “Sure.
That’d be great,” Tasha answered sweetly.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  “What the hell. How about a shot of tequila?”

  Jenny’s lips pulled into a tight smile. “Of course. I’ll send it right over.”

  Tasha winked. “You do that.”

  She watched Jason’s secretary walk away. The woman moved with the kind of grace that had to be inborn. She wasn’t dressed for a party—Tasha had attended Jason’s office Christmas party and knew that when Jenny dressed for an event, she went full-out designer elegance. Tonight, she wore her office clothes. Simple, sleek and posh enough to make Tasha feel frumpy in her finest outfit.

  The jealousy over Jenny’s fashion sense just added to her ire and by the time Jason walked up the living room stairs, a questioning smile on his face, she was ready to snap someone’s neck. Preferably Jason’s.

  “Honey, how lovely to see you.” The tone of his voice was welcoming, almost cheerful. He reached out his hands. Habit had her placing her fingers into his palms as he pulled her close for a kiss on her cheek. “What are you wearing?” His voice dropped and grew a little cooler. He glanced behind him as if checking to see if anyone was watching.

  “Just a little something I picked up at the secondhand store. What?” She shook her head innocently. “It’s not a costume party?” She tapped her finger against her lower lip. “That’s what my invitation said—oh wait.” She snapped her fingers. “I wasn’t invited.”

  “I can explain that,” Jason murmured, keeping his voice low and calm. “Maybe we could talk about this later.”

  “I’m busy later. Let’s talk now.”

  Jason, like Tasha, didn’t like confrontation, but she’d had three glasses of wine so she didn’t feel like backing down. He sighed.

  “It’s just a cocktail party for some of the people at the office and a few clients.”

  “Why did you feel the need to lie to me about it? If you didn’t want me at the party, I can handle that.” She wasn’t really sure that was true, but it sounded mature and sophisticated.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you here.” His voice had shifted into soothing mode. He used it when he thought she would get upset or when she just wouldn’t understand. “I thought you would feel uncomfortable. These aren’t my friends. They are my business associates. All we do here is discuss business. You’d be bored and wouldn’t really understand most of the conversation.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Why wouldn’t I understand? I’m a businesswoman. I own two businesses. I’ve probably got more practical experience in a business than any person in that living room.”

  Sympathy clouded Jason’s eyes. “Honey, owning two little cookie stores just doesn’t compare to the kinds of money and finance that we’re talking about here.”

  “Two little cookie stores? That’s what you think of my business?”

  He winced. “That wasn’t what I meant. I’m very proud of you. You’ve succeeded where most mom-and-pop businesses fail. But this is a different world.”

  The engagement ring hung heavy on her finger. “What were you going to do when we got married? Ask me to hide in the closet when you wanted to have your business associates over?” Her voice came up just a touch and she knew they had to be attracting some attention from the people in the living room. Didn’t care.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Jason’s upper lip flattened out into a line so thin she could barely see it. “As my wife, you’d be my hostess and expectations would be different.”

  “So, I wouldn’t be expected to understand.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” The soothing tone turned patronizing.

  Breath locked in her throat as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She blinked and stared at the lapel of Jason’s suit jacket. This was how he thought of her? No respect for her business. No respect for her intellect.

  And all the times he’d talked down to her, explaining things in simple terms, she’d tried to take it that he wanted to be a good teacher. But now she realized, he thought she was too stupid to understand.

  “Why do you even want to marry me? It’s certainly not to be a trophy wife. I’m more Buddha than willowy blonde.”

  “Darling.” Once again he took her hands and looked into her eyes. He seemed to be trying to convey some emotion through his stare but all she saw was patronizing crap. “We want the same things. A home, children and neither of us is getting any younger.”

  “Well, that’s certainly a reason to marry a woman you think is stupid.”

  “I don’t—”

  She grabbed the ostentatious ring on her left hand. Unfortunately, her fingers had swollen a bit and she had to struggle to get it off. Finally, it slid free and she slapped it into his hand.

  “But, darling—”

  “Excuse me.”

  The new voice intruded and both Tasha and Jason snapped to attention. They hadn’t exactly drawn a crowd, but there was a man Tasha remembered from Jason’s office holding his coat, as if he was trying to leave but they were blocking the exit. On the other side stood a waiter, Tasha’s glass of tequila sitting on his tray.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but did someone order a tequila?” the young man asked.

  “No,” Jason snapped.

  “That’s mine.” Tasha leaned past Jason, her bare shoulder brushing against his chest, and grabbed the tumbler off the tray. She tossed it back in one gulp then gasped as it burned down her throat. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  Flashing a glare at Jason, she whipped around and stomped to the door, her skirts slapping the legs of the delicate hallway table.

  Wishing she had the perfect exit line, she decided to go with enraged silence. Better that than stumbling over her words.

  She yanked open the door and stormed down the hallway, striding toward the elevator, punching the button with enough force to break a nail.

  That errant curl plopped back in front of her eyes but this time she left it. Her mind raced with what she’d just heard. He really thought so little of her.

  But he wants to marry you. He wants a family with you.

  The logical, panicked voice of a woman in her early thirties echoed through her head.

  But he doesn’t respect me. Forcing her shoulders back, she stared at the elevator door, praying it would open soon and she could escape before Jason decided to come after her—assuming he did come after her. She sniffed, her nose starting to run as it tingled. No, I will not cry over this. I will not.

  At least not here. Not now.

  She punched the button again just to feel better and briefly considered taking the stairs, except if she ran down fifteen flights of stairs today, she wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow.

  “You okay?”

  She gasped and looked up, so caught up in her own thoughts she hadn’t noticed the man beside her. It was the guy from Jason’s party. Nathan. They’d sat with him at the office Christmas party. He’d been seated on her right and had been a fun table companion.

  The fact that he was drop-dead gorgeous didn’t hurt—tall, broad shoulders, short dark hair and mesmerizing blue eyes. Of course, his date had been drop-dead gorgeous as well, so they’d been a matched set.

  “What? Yes, I’m fine.”

  “You sure, because…” He shook his head. “You don’t look so good.”

  “What woman doesn’t want to hear that?”

  He chuckled as if she meant it as a joke. “No. You look fantastic but you look a little upset.”

  She sighed. “I’m fine.” Forcing her lips into a smile, she met his stare, marveling at the sincerity in his gaze. Knowing the business he worked in and the company he worked for, she suspected it was probably fake but it was kind of him to make the effort. “Thank you for asking.” The smile turned real. “I really will be fine.”

  He just nodded and took a step back, giving her space.

  They waited. And waited.

  Finally, Nathan moved, just enough to get her attention. She glanced at him and he held his hands open.

  “So I have to ask…”

  Tasha raised her chin, bracing for what she knew had to be a humiliating question.

  “What’s with the wedding dress? Did you expect him to run off and elope tonight?” He huffed out a laugh. “Because you have to know Jason isn’t the most spontaneous person in the world.”