"What?"

He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers, tenderly, sensuously. "Tonight, we talk. Seriously. I feel badly that I could have easily done something yesterday that would have triggered bad memories and feelings for you. Cris didn't talk to me about that aspect of your relationship. I want to get to know you like that."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay," she softly said.

"Thank you, love."

He tried on the suit when they picked it up.

"Rwooar!" she growled.

He laughed and turned to her from the three-way mirror. "I take it that's approval?"

"Hell yeah!" He filled it out well, had the perfect body for it, broad shoulders tapering to a firm waist and super-tight ass. Shorter than Cris by a couple of inches in height, slightly beefier build but still trim. He looked damn good.

They arrived at Loren's right on time. Loren threw the door open for them before they even made it up the walk.

"Wait'll you see what I came up with!" she squealed, waving them in.

"Oh, boy," Tilly muttered under her breath.

Landry softly chuckled as he squeezed her hand. "Steady, love. At least it's only one day."

"Thank god! I couldn't handle weeks or months of her plans." Loren led them to her dining room table, which was already covered with paperwork and brochures. "Holy crap, Lor! What the hell have you been doing?"

"Planning, duh. You think I'm letting you skate on this and doing nothing but a bowl of chips and dip and a box of cookies for refreshments, think again!"

Landry slid into a chair, amusement on his face. "I'll stand by with my credit cards ready."

Tilly glared at him. "Not helping. Besides, I'll go dutch with you on it."

He arched an eyebrow at her. She'd noticed that seemed to be a favorite facial expression of his.

"No, you won't. I told you, I'm paying for all of this."

She turned to face him, hands planted firmly on her hips. "I sense our first lover's spat coming on."

"I asked you to marry me. I sprang this on you. Trust me, caring for me while I'm puking my guts up from chemo is not a pretty picture. You'll wish I'd paid for it all if you don't let me do this."

Loren punched her shoulder. "Listen to the guy, would you?"

She rubbed her shoulder. "Okay, again, ow! Would you please stop doing that? Why the hell are you punching me all of a sudden?"

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?" Landry chimed in.

She glared at him. "Sooo not helping."

Loren laughed. "Tilly, as crazy as this is, I have to say I really do like this guy."

"You just like him because he beats the crap out of Cris."

"'The enemy of my enemy is my friend,'" Loren quoted. "Am I right, Landry?"

He nodded. "'If Hitler invaded Hell, I would make at least a favorable reference to the Devil in the House of Commons.' Winston Churchill."

Loren grinned. "Oooh, he's rich, cute and smart!"

"Oui, Madame."

Loren sighed. "And he speaks French. Fuuuck me, girlie, you landed a keeper and he's gay.

What kind of luck do you have?"

"He is French, not just fluent in it. He's also decided he's homoflexible where I'm concerned."

She winked at Landry. "By the way, just so you know, darling," she told him, "Loren and I are BFFs, meaning she'll be pounding on our front door Monday morning and wanting a status report from me about you in bed."

Loren pretended to be offended. "No, I wouldn't do that! I'd wait until after lunch, duh. Let you sleep in."

Landry smiled, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms. "Would it be easier to give you a demonstration with her right here and now?"

Tilly glared at him again. "I feel a new rule coming on, dude."

He held up his hands in surrender. "I know, I know. Sit there, shut up, and keep the plastic handy."

Loren happily sighed again. "And he's a 'yes, dear' Dom. Fuck me, you lucky bitch. And yes, I do want a status report on Monday."

"He's not my Dom, he's my fiance."

Loren waved her off. "Yeah, whatever, we need to decide this stuff now so I can get everything ordered ASAP. Butter cream or cream cheese frosting on your cake?"

Tilly wondered how many people ran up a two thousand dollar tab with Publix for last-minute wedding and reception plans. Loren rode with them to the store close to her house and they went over everything with the bakery and deli managers, who were more than happy to oblige when Landry produced his American Express Centurion card to pay for everything.

Loren grabbed his hand, her jaw gaping. "Holy fuck!" she said, awestruck, then looked at Tilly.

She held his hand, which still held the Amex card. She shook his hand at Tilly. "Do you know what the fuck this is?"

"It's a credit card."

Landry looked amused but remained quiet. Tilly didn't fail to notice he never so much as blinked in shock when the total was announced.

"It's a black Amex, babe. That's what they call them." She stared at Landry. "How the hell did you get one of these? This is a fucking Centurion!"

"I know. I do work for some very elite and wealthy clients. I charge well for my services."

"Lor, let go of his hand. You're drooling on the man."

"I've only seen one of these before, when I worked at the Ritz Carlton. A movie star had one."

Loren spent several years as a manager at that and other high-end resorts before Ross' business took off and she could stay home full time. Her specialty was acting as a private concierge to the rich and famous who visited Sarasota, especially during the hectic film festival week. "Unbefuckinglievable."

She let go of his hand and looked at Tilly. "Do you have any clue how much money you have to have to be offered one of those puppies?"

Tilly didn't reply because she honestly didn't know. Landry handed the card to the bakery manager so she could get everything rung up. "Yes," Landry said. "A lot." He looked at Tilly and winked.

She stifled her laughter.

Landry offered to unload Tilly's SUV at Loren's house and sent the women inside while he did.

Loren snagged Tilly's arm. "Three years, huh? Not a bad deal. I can see why you agreed. He's a sweetheart."

"Yeah," she agreed, her stomach nervous. This wasn't like her mother's situation, where she had no options and a child to care for. She had a job, a house, a considerable savings account. She could even go back to work as a nurse.

She wasn't trapped. Not to mention she had legal protection in the form of the pre-nup.

"So how are you going to handle this shit with Cris?" Loren asked.

She shrugged. "I don't want to think about that right now." She'd desperately tried to not think about it all day.

Landry had also bought fixings for their dinner, declaring he would cook for her. He proved to be a damn good cook. She helped him clean up the kitchen before they retired to the bedroom to watch TV and talk. He stretched out, on his side, and held her close.

"Time for our promised talk, love."

She closed her eyes. "Okay."

"First of all, the easy part. Do I need to wear a condom?"

She bristled. "I'm clean. I told you, I haven't been with anyone since Cris. I got tested after he left to make sure the son of a bitch didn't give me something."

He kissed the nape of her neck. "I meant for birth control. Unless you took them when I wasn't with you, I never saw you do it, and there are no packs in your bathroom."

Her face reddened. "It's not an issue. Don't worry about it."

"Why?" he softly asked.

"Landry-"

"Please. I won't force you. Can't force you to tell. I do want to know."

She rolled to face him and buried her face against his chest. "Because of what he did to me."

"Not Cris." It was a statement, not a question.

"Not Cris," she agreed.

He stroked her back. "All right, love. You're safe with me. Let it out. Please."

She took a deep breath. "When he raped me, I had internal injuries. Bleeding and infection and scarring. They told me I can't have kids."

Landry held her more tightly and nuzzled the top of her head. "Talk to me," he coaxed. "Tell me everything and I will never ask you to talk about it again if you don't wish to."

As stupid as it was, she did feel safe with him. They had a common bond, right or wrong. She told him the story, of the nightly visits that started when she was fourteen. Her step-father molested her, had her get him off, and it continued every night for several weeks until the night he brutally raped her.

"I couldn't tell my mom," she whispered. "He threatened to kill both of us if I told her or went to the cops. Said no one would believe me, that he'd tell people he'd caught me with booze and drugs, and that I was lying to get even. I never even drank in high school. He was a fucking bully. Abusive.

Used to beat the crap out of her. He ran when he realized how badly he'd hurt me, how bad I was bleeding. Took them three weeks to find him."

"What happened to your mother?"

"She died before I met Cris. I was at work after school, and she had to go to the pharmacy to get her medicine refilled. She had asthma really bad, so bad she could only work part-time and was on partial disability and stuff too. That's why she stayed married to the fucking asshole for as long as she did. She thought she had no options." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "The pharmacy was only two blocks away from where we lived, so she walked because I wouldn't be home for several hours and I had the only car. Hit and run driver got her when she was crossing the street."

"Did they catch them?"

"Yep. Two days later. Little rich asshole. His buddies tried to lie for him and say his car was stolen, but they eventually proved he'd been out drinking before." She tipped her head back to look into his eyes. "I fucking sued the pants off his goddamn family for it, too. My mom deserved better than that. I used the money to get me into college."

"What about your father?"

She frowned. "What about him? He left my mom when she found out she was pregnant. She was only seventeen when she had me, he was in his twenties. I have no clue where he is, and I could give a shit."