Page 26 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

And not all men’s underwear takes endowment into consideration. Pants, too. I have to choose carefully. Tight jeans can be an issue. And then there’s the issue of actually fitting inside a woman.

Is that why I asked for a do-over? Because no matter how you slice it, of all the girls I’ve been with, Regan Lucas is the one who seems to be the best ‘fit.’

The way she took me in was like finding the perfect pair of gloves.

“Excuse me,” a feminine voice sings as a hand reaches for a bottle of wine in front of me.

I know that voice. And that hand. I have to play Jedi mind tricks to keep myself from getting hard. Because when you’re hung like I am, even a half-chub is going to be conspicuous. And I do not need anyone thinking what I’ve come to accept over the past week—that even after all these years, I still have a massive fucking crush on Regan Lucas.

Chapter Nine

Lucas

Without smiling, and like she’s totally playing the part, she picks up a bottle of Montana Winery chardonnay, reads the label and muses aloud, “I wonder if this one has a good body.”

My lips turn upward. “It does.” I take it from her. “This is one of our full-bodied wines.”

“Mmm. And is that how you prefer them? Full-bodied?”

Facing the wine display, we’re not looking at each other, both pretending this is some random meeting. I like this game. I like it a lot.

Finally, I turn and let my eyes rake over her from head to toe. Her curves are electric beneath the well-fitting top, that looks straight out of a seventies psychedelic hippie movie, tucked into frayed bell-bottom jeans with carefully placed rips on the outer thigh and knee and more frayed ruffles encircling the calves. My mouth actually waters. “That’sexactlyhow I prefer them.”

When the words come out, I realize just how true they are. In a flash, all my previous girlfriends cycle through my head like I’m looking through a lens of one of those retro-style view master toys. All of them were slender. You might even say they were petite. Beautiful, sure. Hot even. And most of them sufficiently endowed. But, my god, I thought some of them might actually snap in half in bed.

With Regan, a whole different kind of reel cycles through my mind. Pictures of what I want to do to her and all the ways I want to do it. Fantasies far more daring than what I used to whack off to.

She doesn’t even flinch under my heated perusal and obvious objectification.

“Some men are put off by the weight and viscosity of full-bodied wine, which is why they prefer the lighter ones.”

“Au contraire. I would argue exactly the opposite. That light-bodied selections are deemed inferior. They are less complex, lacking fullness and deep flavor.” I hold out my free hand. “Why, Regan Lucas, what a pleasure it is to run into you.”

Now is when she smiles so big, it practically splits her soft round face in two. She extends her arm and places her hand in mine. “Imagine that.” She pulls back her hand when Mr. Truman walks by. Then she narrows her eyes. “In fact, I’m having a hard time remembering our last meeting.”

“Hey, now,” I whisper, drawing closer. “Don’t go stealing my line. Besides, things have started coming back to me.”

“Oh, so all this is quite unnecessary.”

She spins as if she’s going to walk away.

“Wait,” I say to her backside. “There are still some blanks that need to be filled in.”

She stills, as if contemplating, then turns slightly, her playful expression cluing me in to the fact that she’s still playing the game. “I’ve got a few more things to pick up.” She glances at the basket on the floor next to her. I hadn’t even noticed it. She really is doing her shopping. “It’s been nice seeing you, Lucas.” She turns away, studies her list and mumbles, “I wonder where the condoms are.”

“I’ll take care of those,” I whisper into her ear as I pass.

With the wine still in my hand, I head to the store’s one register, manned by Mr. Truman’s wife. She looks oddly at the bottle as she scans it, then up at me. “You’re Lucas Montana.”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“Don’t you have an endless supply of these at your winery? Why would you want to pay retail?”

“Wine emergency,” I say.

“Ahh.” She nods, still looking confused. “Well, enjoy.”

“Oh, I plan on it.”

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