Dark brown eyes widened at the array of things around him.  “Okay, I’m sorry and I’ll never open my mouth again.”

“Nope.  It’s too late now, Chris.”  She bit back her laughter at his expression.  “You said you could do it, so let’s see it.”

“Come on, Mel.”  He turned pleading eyes toward her.  “Don’t make me do this.”

“Sorry, babe.  You should’ve thought about that before saying that you could do it faster than me.”

“It took you an hour . . . and it made us late.  It was a label party, Melanie.  It didn’t look good for me to waltz in twenty minutes late.”

“We would’ve made it on time if you hadn’t taken International.  There’s always a traffic jam on International and you know it.”  She arched an eyebrow at him.  “Besides, how hard could it be?  I mean, piece of cake, right?”

He groaned as she threw his own words back at him.  “Melanie . . . baby . . .”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me and save the sad eyes for the teenies.”  She grinned.  “It took me an hour to shower, shave, brush my teeth, do hair and make-up, get dressed and run to the car.  Now, I’m being nice by not making you shave, but that knocks off fifteen minutes . . .”

“Fifteen minutes?  How could it possibly take you fifteen minutes to shave?”

“Two legs, Chris, with a non-electric razor.  Not something you want to rush through.”  Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over.  “Your hair isn’t exactly much, either.  I had to blow dry, curl and spray mine and you really can’t do much other than dry yours.  Maybe a little spray, but that’s it.  So there’s fifteen more minutes taken off.”

“You’re telling me that I have half an hour to get all this done?”  His foot tapped nervously as he looked around her bathroom.

“Minus the shaving and hair, yeah.”  She considered him for a second.  “And the make-up has to look presentable.  You can’t just slap it on and say you’re done.  Oh, and I painted my nails, too.”

He groaned.  “Finger or toe?”

“Both.  And remember, your toe nails have to be dry before you can put on any shoes, so you’ll need to do them as soon as you get dried off from the shower.”

“What fun would that be?”  She laughed at his pout, stepping up to kiss him quickly.  “Come on, Chris . . . take it like a man.  You’ve got half an hour to make yourself gorgeous, so you might want to get started.  Just think about winning.”

“Riiight.”  The pout vanished immediately as he drew the word out, smiling devilishly as his hands held her in place against him so that he could kiss her more thoroughly.  “You never did tell me what you get if you win.”

“And I won’t tell you . . . until I win.”  She stepped out of his arms with a smile, licking her lips.  “Clothes are on the bed.  See?  I’m even giving you the advantage of laying the outfit out for you.  I had to choose mine.”  He watched as she walked out the door and through the bedroom to pull the outer door open, turning back to him with her hand on the doorknob.  “Time starts as soon as this door closes.  Good luck, babe.”

The door clicked shut behind her and he groaned again, turning to look around the bathroom once more, shaking his head at himself as he reached to turn on the water in the shower.  “Me and my big mouth.  Okay . . . I can do this.”

Ten minutes later, he was toweling off, wondering why he couldn’t have fallen for an Irish Spring or Dial woman.  Of course, she used some fancy lavender scented soap and shampoo, which meant he now smelled all flowery and girly.  Not that he minded . . . when it was on her.  He loved pulling her close and taking a deep breath, drinking in that special scent that just screamed out that he was holding his Mel.  It was a great smell, but on him, it was a little . . . weird.  Someday, he’d remember to add his own soap and shampoo to her shower shelf.

He tied the towel around his waist and turned to wipe the steam from the mirror, looking over the bottles on the counter with dread.  “Well . . . she mentioned nails.  Guess the feet are going to get prettied up.”  He picked up the vial of nail polish, rolling his eyes at the deep red color before twisting off the top and getting to work.  “I’ll never understand why women want their nails to have color.  It’s not like anyone looks at them . . .”

His voice trailed off when he remembered a night from a few weeks ago.  They’d been sitting together – cuddling, really – on his couch, watching a movie.  He’d moved to pull her closer, his arm going around her waist, and she’d put her bare feet up on the cushions next to her.  The flash of color had drawn his eyes away from the television and to her toes, neatly painted this same red color.  She’d laid her head on his shoulder, one of her hands coming to rest on his leg, and he’d looked down to find that she had red fingernails as well.  His eyes had moved back and forth for a few seconds before coming up to her face.  She’d been concentrating on the movie, biting her lip, and he’d had to smile, wondering when his relaxed, comfortable, buttoned-up Melanie had developed a sexy side.

Not that he hadn’t thought of her as sexy before.  He’d always thought of her as drop-dead gorgeous, but she’d never been one to work at it, attempting to draw the attention to herself.  One of the things he loved most about her was how she could be kicked back in jeans and a T-shirt, her blonde hair up in a ponytail and no make-up whatsoever, and still have his attention from the minute he walked in the room.  Even when she was relaxing, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He straightened up, tightening the lid back on the polish and turning to the other bottles, his brow furrowing as he thought to himself, his eyes moving over the crowded countertop.  She’d looked stunning the night he’d given her a hard time, leading to the situation he was in now.  She’d put in a long day at work, staying late at the office and having to rush home.  He’d been waiting on her and could tell that she was exhausted as she’d run through the door and toward her bedroom, throwing her jacket and bag into a chair in the living room and sending him a quick wave on her way by. 

She’d looked perfect from her curled hair all the way down to her high-heeled shoes.  Even though he’d ribbed her about how long it had taken, he’d definitely taken notice of the end product and had been proud to walk into that party – albeit twenty minutes late – with her on his arm, to have her at his side for the night.

Yes, she’d definitely gotten some stares as they’d danced and mingled . . . but he couldn’t recall telling her once how beautiful she’d been.  Or how much he’d appreciated that she’d been there with him.

He stared at himself in the mirror, mentally kicking himself before looking over the different jars and bottles again.  She’d gone through all of this trouble just to go to a party with him and the least he could have done was give her the kind words she’d probably needed.  Even if she hadn’t needed them, he should have said them anyway.

His watch beeped, telling him that he had fifteen minutes left.

He reached for the toothbrush and grinned as an idea flashed through his mind.

Brushing quickly, he nodded to himself, trying not to laugh as the toothpaste lathered.

Forget winning . . . this was all about her.

--------------------------------------------------

Melanie curled up on the couch, watching the bedroom door with interest.

Her watch had sounded minutes ago, letting her know that she’d won . . . but he was still bumping around in there.

She heard something fall over, then his muted curse carried through the door and she laughed as quietly as she could before calling out to him.  “Time’s up, you know.  What are you doing in there?”

“Yeah, I know.”  A crash followed the sound of his voice and she flinched, wondering what piece of furniture he’d destroyed.  She heard another soft curse, then “Hang on a minute.”

She sat straight up on the cushions when she heard footsteps across her bedroom floor.  “Chris, what are you . . .”

Her voice faded when music started blaring on the other side of the door.  She listened for a second, grinning widely when she recognized Roy Orison belting out ‘Pretty Woman’.

The door flew open and she bit her lip, wondering if he was trying to pull a fast one on her.

Then he moved into the doorway and her eyes widened, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in shock.

She looked him over once, twice . . . then burst into laughter, her arms hugging around her stomach as if she could keep herself from flying apart.  “Oh . . . my . . . God . . .”

He grinned, ruby red lips making his teeth appear a blinding white, and batted heavy eyelashes at her before striking a supermodel pose.  “Don’t you just love it, darling?  Purple sequins really work wonders on my figure.”

His girly tone just made her laugh harder and she shook her head, trying to catch her breath.  “You . . . you . . .”

Stepping carefully in the high-heeled sandals, he moved to the couch.  “Just say it.  I rock this look.”

Her eyes grew even wider as he came closer and she had to force herself to speak.  “You’re wearing pantyhose.”

“They were in the bag.”  His voice returned to normal and he had to stop and adjust the top of the dress.  “It’s a good thing you left the bra in there, too.  This dress must’ve been designed for Pam Anderson.”  He poked at his oversized chest.  “I think I used half your socks just stuffing this thing.”

She choked.  “You . . . you used underwear too?”

“I used everything in the bag.”  He arched an eyebrow at her.  “Since when do you wear a thong?”

“I . . . I don’t.”  She breathed deeply, wiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks.  “I just grabbed the dress off the costume rack and put it in a garment bag.  I didn’t think to check that the bag was empty.”  Her teeth worked on her trembling lip as she looked over him again from top to bottom.

Spiked hair.  Bright blue eye shadow.  Thick black mascara and eyeliner.  Dark spots of rouge on his cheeks.  Bright red lipstick.

She blinked when she noticed a pair of her largest hoop ear rings dangling from his earlobes, then gave herself a mental shrug and moved on with her perusal, trying to ignore the song that had just started playing again.

The purple sequined dress hugged him tightly, showing off the cleavage created by the stuffed double-D bra and ending halfway down his thighs, where the tan pantyhose took over.  His hands were open at his sides, giving her a clear view of the polish on his fingers.  Finally, she saw the strappy high-heeled sandals . . . showing off the deep red of his toenails.

“You . . .”  Her eyes met his.  “You look like a skinny, male version of Kathy Kinney.”  She snorted, then began rolling back and forth on the couch cushions in laughter, pausing only to give a soft grunt when she rolled off to hit the floor.

His lips curved into a smile as he stood there, watching her laugh helplessly on the carpet for a minute before shifting his stance restlessly.  “Okay, so you win.”

She sat up on the floor, still chuckling under her breath as she wiped her cheeks yet again.  “I don’t know, Chris . . . looking at you right now, I’m a little tempted to let you have it, just for the effort.”

He grinned, shaking his head.  “No.  Rules are rules and it took me longer than thirty minutes.  You win.”  A questioning look was sent her way.  “What exactly did you win, anyway?”

She sent him a devilish smile as she got to her feet.  “Go wash all that mess off and change clothes and you’ll find out.”

“In a second.”  He moved closer to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark behind.

She laughed, but when she saw his eyes moving to her lips, she shook her head.  “No, Chris.  Not until you wash that junk off.”

His hands went up in surrender.  “I’m going, I’m going.”  He turned to walk away from her but stopped when he felt her hand on his butt.

“You should wear your pants tighter, babe.”  She gave him a squeeze.  “Show this thing off.”  Another laugh escaped.  “Why do I feel like I just felt up a drag queen?”

“Because you’re demented.”  He moved away from her, but stopped in the doorway to her bedroom, looking down at his fingers.  “Um, wait.  How do I get rid of the polish stuff?”

“Nail polish remover.  It’s in the other bathroom.  Get started and I’ll bring it in to you.”

Grateful eyes came up to her and a smile was sent her way.  “All right.”

She watched him take two wobbly steps toward her bathroom, then had to laugh when he lost his balance and went sprawling on the carpet.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Go on and find whatever remover stuff it was that you were talking about.”  He sat up to take off the shoes and ear rings, shaking his head at how ridiculous the whole thing was as Roy started once again from the beginning of the song.  Getting to his feet, he had to laugh when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on her dresser.  “A male Kathy Kinney.”  A groan escaped.  “Right.”

He shook his head again before making quick work of getting the awful dress and all the other scratchy, itchy items off and back in the garment bag, giving a sigh of relief when he stepped back into his loose-fitting jeans.  Leaving his shirt on the bed, he made his way into the bathroom, opening the cabinet for something to wipe off all the paint.

He had just run the warm washcloth over his face for the first time when she walked in, setting a small jar on the counter.  She looked from the stained cloth to the remaining stuff on his face and widened her eyes.  “You’re going to have to use soap to get the rest of it.”  Ducking down, she reached into the cabinet beneath the sink, re-emerging a second later with a tube of facial cleanser.  “Here.”  She handed it to him, then picked up the jar of polish remover.  “You finish up your face and I’ll take care of your feet.”

They worked silently for a few minutes, the song looping yet again, and she stood up just as he was drying his face.  “Can we turn the music off now?”

“You don’t like Orbison?”

“Well, yeah.”  She shrugged.  “It’s just that every time I hear this song now, I’m going to think of you in that dress.”

He turned and pulled her to him, moving with her to the beat as he sang along.  “Pretty woman, look my way.  Pretty woman, say you’ll stay with me.”  She laughed as he attempted a move straight out of Dirty Dancing.  “’Cause I need you. I’ll treat you right.”   He tightened his hold on her, leaning down so that he could whisper the next words in her ear.  “Come with me, baby.  Be mine tonight.”

“Yeah, okay.”  She stepped away from him and into the doorway so that she could hit the stop button on the sound system, then turned back to him, biting her lip as she took in the expression on his face.  “We’ll talk about that later.  Right now, let’s get you back to normal.”

His head turned as far as it would go, his eyes glued to her as she walked around and behind him.  “What’s left to do?”

She smiled at him through the mirror.  “Just your fingers.  Get them done and you’ll be all manly again.”  Her chin rested on his bare shoulder as she showed him how to use the remover, then she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him from behind as he worked on the red polish.  “Mmm.  You smell like me.”

“Well, I had to use your soap.”  He didn’t look away from his fingers as he spoke, making sure to get all the polish off.  “Kinda weird, huh?”

“I don’t think so.”  Her cheek rested against his back as she inhaled deeply.  “It’s actually kind of sexy.”

“A guy who smells all flowery is sexy, huh?”  His laugh echoed through the room as he paid extra attention to his thumb nail.  “Mel . . . you’re strange.”

“Maybe.”  She kissed his shoulder blade.  “But you love me anyway.”

“Yeah.”  His gaze came up to their reflection and he smiled at the image, watching as her hands moved lazily over his stomach before coming to rest at the waistband of his jeans, pulling him tighter against her.  “Yeah, I do.”  He could feel her smile against his skin and put the jar down.  “Melanie?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”  She raised her head to look at his reflection.  “Sorry for what?”

He pulled her around so that she was between him and the counter, facing him.  “For giving you such a hard time that night.”

“It’s okay, Chris.”  A soft laugh escaped.  “You’ve more than made up for it.”

“I’m not finished.”  He leaned into her so that his lips grazed hers softly.  “I’m sorry for not telling you how gorgeous you were.”  She gave him an odd look as he pulled back to continue.  “And for not thanking you for going with me.”

“You did.”

Brown eyes narrowed in confusion.  “I did . . . what?”

“You told me I was beautiful and you thanked me.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did.”  She pushed herself up to sit on the counter and tilted her head as she looked at him, her blue eyes lighting up with her grin.  “I guess you don’t remember.  You were kind of . . . distracted.”

“I was?”

Her hands came up to his chest, making him shiver as she traced lines over his skin with her fingertips.  “Uh huh.  I was surprised you could even talk.”

His brow furrowed as he thought back over that night, his expression becoming devilish as he recalled each detail.  “I think I remember almost everything and I believe we were both distracted at one point or another.”

A blush spread across her face.  “Not then, Chris.”  She shook her head with a laugh.  “Does your mother know how much you like chocolate pie, or is it the whipped cream and chocolate chip topping on mine that makes it so good?”

“Chocolate pie?”  He stared at her.  “I don’t remember a chocolate pie.”

“You must’ve been in a sugared haze, then.  You went after it as soon as you knew it was there and I think you ate almost half of it on your own.”  She stretched up to kiss him, relaxing against him when his arms went around her.  “Who knew that chocolate was an aphrodisiac?”  Her eyes danced with laughter as she pinched his side.  “Forget leather and lace.  I’ve got pie.”

“Hey, the leather and lace work, too.”  He grinned, flinching away from her fingers, then bent so that his forehead rested against her shoulder.  “You’re positive that I said it?”

She sighed, reaching up so that she could pull his head away and meet his eyes, her hands on his cheeks to hold him still.  “Babe, if you hadn’t . . . there would’ve been news cameras waiting when you came out in drag.” She laughed.  “Can you imagine the media frenzy if it was reported that you’re a closet cross-dresser?”

“Hmmm.  The girl fights dirty.”  His hands came to her hips and he pulled her to the edge of the counter, moving forward so that he was between her knees before leaning down to give her a teasing kiss.  “I like it.”

“I can get worse if I have to.”  She grinned at him before sliding her fingers into his hair, pulling him back to her and covering his lips with her own, backing away when he tried to deepen the contact.  “I won.”

“Yes, you did.”  His lips trailed over her cheek and he nipped at her earlobe before moving down to her neck, raising up with an evil smile when she tilted her head to give him better access.  “What prize would the lady like?”

Her arms tightened around his neck, her legs coming up to loop around his waist.  “You’re a creative guy.  I’m sure you can come up with something.”

“Be creative, huh?”  He gave a soft laugh as she pulled him to her, so that his lips moved against hers as he spoke.  “I think I can do that.”  He kissed her again, his fingers gripping her gently as he moved away from the counter, barely noticing that she moved her legs so that she was anchored to him securely.  Turning, he carried her toward the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to catch his breath.  “Just one question.”

She didn’t even look at him, concentrating on following the line of his jaw with her lips.  “What’s that?”