Page 32 of Maid in America

“Hi.”

The second she uttered the single syllable, Barrett’s heart began to pound.

He assumed that she, like so many others, had simply been passing through town, a tourist on her way to see Yellowstone, a vacationer passing through toward Devils Tower.

But shelived here.

She lived inJackson.

The thought of her being within arms reach made Barrett feel lightheaded.

“Uh… hi.”

Okay, so he wasn’t Shakespeare.

“It’s good to see you, Barrett.”

“Pleasure’s all mine,Aphrodite.” He smiled wide and bit his lip sensually while eyeing her up and down. “I tried to call you, but it was the darnedest thing. Kept ringing through to a Chinese restaurant.”

“Best Asian buffet in Northwestern Wyoming.” Chastity smiled smugly. “The crab rangoons’ll change your life.”

Maggie groaned. “Um, excuse me, young lady, we haveguests!”

“So?”

“So?!” Maggie’s voice was high and annoyed. “So, why are you washing up on this side of the house? What is wrong withyourshower?”

“I likethistub.” Chastity’s eyes flashed to Barrett’s. “The Jacuzzi has somereallypowerful jets that you canaimif you know what I’m sayin’.” She flashed him a filthy smile and winked. All of the blood in his upper half drained to his cock in an instant. All traces of the English language evaporated momentarily from his brain.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, and I am sure we do notwantto know.” Maggie shooed her daughter down the hall. “Go! Now! Get dressed! Stop walking around half-naked like a hussy.”

“Mary Magdalene was a hussy, and she—”

“Go!” Maggie interrupted, angrier now.

Chastity started down the hall with a satisfied smile, waltzing backward so she could keep her eyes locked on Barrett.

Maggie turned at the end of the hall and walked off, muttering, “Kids. I swear she is trying to turn me prematurelygray.”

Just before Chastity was out of sight, she opened her towel, flashing Barrett the entire front of her tattooed body, naked and dripping. She was freshly shaven and even more perfect than he remembered.

At that moment, Barrett thought he might faint.

Chastity disappeared into a room, and Barrett finally found the nerve to move again, covering his crotch with the notepad. He followed Maggie’s direction and turned into a living room full of older women in earth tones, all somewhere between forty-five andancient, seated on couches and dining chairs in a casual circle. Susan Glenecky was among them.

“Susan,” he said with a cordial wave.

“Glad you could make it,” Susan said joyfully.

“Please, Barrett, have a seat,” Maggie said, setting a dining room chair next to one of the women for him.

Confused, he nodded politely and sat.

“Now ladies, I hope I’m not here to judge aMiss Wyomingcontest because, in my book, you’d all be winners,” he said in an attempt to charm them. Being so close to his grandmother for years, he knew how to get along swimmingly with women in their age bracket.

Lie out your ass, lay on the charm, and don’t ever fuckin’ cuss.That, in Barrett’s mind, was the key to success with anyone with varicose veins.

Several women giggled and nudged one another before falling quiet again.

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