Love on the Night Shift

by Radclyffe

  “Oh, come on,” Grady said, “you cannot stop there.”

  “Let’s just say Flann was really popular with everyone.”

  “You had a crush on her? Did you ever go out with her?” Grady heard the edge of interrogation in her voice but the words were already out. Of course Blaise had had relationships—she had a kid, for crying out loud. Still…Grady preferred to imagine them in the far distant past in the form of shadowy, unsatisfying, forgettable lovers.

  “No,” Blaise said instantly. “To both.”

  Grady narrowed her eyes. Blaise answered so quickly, and so emphatically, her response made Grady question whether she was glossing over some kind of thing with Flann. The thought bothered her even though her rational mind knew that was crazy. Flann was married now, and from the way she talked about her wife, nuts about her, and Blaise was no way the sort of woman to get involved with someone in a relationship. But all the same, the idea of Blaise lusting after anyone, especially someone Grady had always found just a little overwhelming—not that she’d ever say that out loud—bothered her. A lot.

  “So you were one of the rare ones to resist the Rivers magic?” Grady probed.

  “I’m not all that susceptible to magic. Besides, I wasn’t—” Blaise jumped up as Harold called their order number. “I’ll get that.”

  She sped off before Grady had a chance to ask her for the rest of her sentence or to get their food herself. Yep, Blaise was definitely avoiding something, and Grady tried hard not to imagine her ever being attracted to Flann. Even though it was ancient history and never happened. She rubbed her forehead. She’d never been this sensitive, or even that interested, in any other woman’s current or past dating history.

  A few moments later Blaise slid their plates onto the table and settled across from her.

  “I don’t know what to eat first,” Grady said, eyeing her plate of eggs, sausage, toast she hadn’t ordered, and two warm doughnuts that smelled like sin.

  “Well, I do,” Blaise said and picked up one of the cream-filled doughnuts. She bit into it, and sure enough, a small dusting of white powder lingered on her upper lip.

  Grady’s stomach tightened. Her imagination had failed her on this one—Blaise was way sexier than she’d pictured with that tempting bit of sweetness on her perfectly sculpted deep rose-colored lip. And yep, she most definitely wanted to kiss that sugar away.

  “Aren’t you going to try one?” Blaise asked.

  Grady realized she was staring at Blaise’s mouth. Not real obvious much.

  “Uh-huh,” she said a little blankly. Maybe she was extra tired, but her fortitude failed her. She slowly extended her arm, giving Blaise a chance to draw back, and when Blaise remained perfectly still, her gaze fixed on Grady’s, Grady rested her fingertips against the angle of Blaise’s jaw and gently brushed her top lip with her thumb. “Sugar.”

  For a fraction of a second, Blaise leaned her cheek against Grady’s palm, filling her hand with softness and warmth, and then, as if she hadn’t meant to do that, straightened.

  Blaise’s cheeks flushed, and she laughed a little self-consciously. “It’s hard to eat one of these without making a mess.”

  “That’s not a mess from where I’m sitting,” Grady said. “That’s devastating.”

  “You have to stop flirting.” Blaise’s pupils flickered and the tiny gold specks in the deep sea-blue glittered.

  “I’m not flirting.”

  “And if you believe that, you’re fooling yourself. Eat your doughnut, Dr. McClure.”

  Grady took a bite and gave herself a moment to enjoy the explosion of sweet-tart dark berry flavor before returning to task. “So, you were telling me about your crush on Flann.”

  “We’re talking high school here—what could it matter?”

  Blaise sounded grumpy. Curious.

  “High school isn’t that far in the past, and besides—sometimes those years say a lot about who we are.”

  “God, I hope not,” Blaise murmured, no longer surprised that Grady had her thinking back to her not-so-happy high school days. Grady harbored a very disconcerting talent for taking her places she didn’t want to go—or go back to—and an even more dangerous ability to get her to say things she didn’t mean to. She didn’t even want to think about how damn good Grady’s hand had felt on her face for that fleeting second. She never got so personal with anyone she’d just met, and rarely with some of those closest to her. Even Abby didn’t know all the story, and since Abby wasn’t the type to ask—unlike her breakfast companion of the moment—she wasn’t ever likely to. Time to divert the conversation. She’d been the focus for far too long. “Are you still pining for your first love?”

  “Me? Hell no. I can’t even remember that far back.” Grady pointed a finger. “There you go again, turning the tables. You are an expert at that.”

  “Most people don’t notice—they’d rather talk about themselves anyhow.”

  “Not me,” Grady said darkly.

  “And that’s why you ask so many questions and love guessing games.”

  “I wouldn’t have to guess if you’d tell me.”

  “All right.” Blaise laughed and polished off her doughnut. Maybe a little information would stem the curiosity tide. “I did not date girls in high school. Crushes, sure—although not Flann Rivers. Too many other girls crushed on her already.”

  “Selective, were you?”

  Blaise’s expression shuttered closed. “More like in denial. Today I’d call it questioning, but back then I was a little slow to recognize what I was feeling. I take it that was not the case for you.”

  Grady polished off her doughnut and studied the second one. “I’ll die a swift death if I eat that one right now, won’t I?”

  Blaise picked up her second and took a bite. “Depends on how tough you are.”

  “Ha.” Grady plucked hers up and bit a chunk out of it. Blackberry filling dribbled down her chin. “Damn.”

  Blaise grabbed a napkin and held it out. “Here. Take this.”

  “I’ve found that thumbs work just as well for that,” Grady murmured, taking the napkin.

  “And I’ve found this to be a safer and less messy alternative.”

  “Do you always choose safe and less messy?”

  “Whenever possible,” Blaise said with total seriousness.

  Chapter Eight

  Grady pushed her plate away and sighed. “This place could become a very bad habit.”

  “As bad habits go, you could do worse.”

  “If I wasn’t trying to make a good impression,” Grady shot back, “I’d say I have done worse. Much worse.”

  “Oh,” Blaise said laughing. “That’s clever, you see. Most people would immediately want to know what evil you’ve been up to.”

  “Most people, but not you?”

  Blaise pursed her lips. “I believe everyone is entitled to keep their secrets, if they want.”

  “Ah,” Grady said. They weren’t talking about her any longer. She was coming to recognize that pattern with Blaise. Approach and avoid. Whenever Grady circled in too close, or Blaise let something a little bit personal slip out, Blaise retreated. Grady wondered if Blaise even knew she was doing it. So many questions, so many challenges. No wonder she was fascinated.

  “Nothing evil, I promise.” Grady pressed her hand to her heart and was rewarded by a smile. Blaise’s attention shifted abruptly and Grady looked over her shoulder. Flann Rivers, her sandy hair tousled, her brown eyes lively, wended her way between the tables toward them. In casual khakis, a red cotton button-down with the cuffs turned back, and scuffed brown loafers, Flann looked like she hadn’t a care in the world. And maybe she hadn’t, or at least none that threatened what mattered. Inexplicably envious, Grady wondered what that kind of contentment would feel like.

  “Hey, Blaise. Hi, Grady,” Flann said. “You found this place pretty fast, McClure.”

  “Thank Blaise for that,” Grady said.

  “Hi, Flann.” Blais
e smiled, an altogether welcoming smile that made Grady bristle internally. And wasn’t that dumb.

  “You two here for the doughnuts?” Flann asked.

  “We’ve already had our share,” Blaise said.

  Flann frowned. “I hope you left some, because Abby has a hankering for the apple cider sugar doughnuts.”

  “We’re not guilty if they’re gone,” Blaise said, laughing. “We had the cream filled. Are the kids up yet?”

  “I heard stirrings when I left. Abby said you were feeding them this morning.”

  “I’ll be over in just a few minutes,” Blaise said.

  “I’ll buy extra doughnuts to ward off starvation, just in case.”

  Blaise laughed and Flann shot Grady a look. “Heard you had a big case your first night. Sorry I wasn’t around to give you a hand.”

  “No problem,” Grady said. “Blaise took care of getting him squared away for the OR. I just showed up.”

  “She’s our secret weapon. If you need to get an emergency on the schedule, find Blaise. She’ll make it happen.” Flann sent her megawatt smile in Blaise’s direction, and Blaise rolled her eyes. She looked pleased, though.

  Flann glanced over her shoulder at the line growing toward the door. “I better go. Listen, there’s a thing out at the Homestead tonight. Kind of a community gathering to celebrate…” She shrugged. “Well, anything you want. There’s a big football game tonight against one of our longtime rivals, but win or lose, we’ll be celebrating. You two should come.”

  Grady glanced at Blaise questioningly.

  “Ah,” Blaise said a little hesitantly, “I’m not sure I can make it. I’ll pick up Taylor and anyone else who needs a ride home, though, when you all want to throw the kids out.”

  Flann snorted. “Huh. Margie will probably invite half the school to stay over.”

  “I have a feeling that’s already been done.”

  “True. Well, hope you make it.” Flann waved and headed toward the counter.

  “The Homestead,” Grady said after Flann was out of earshot. “That’s her family’s place?”

  “Uh-huh. The Rivers family have had that property for—”

  “I know, a hundred years?” Grady said, beginning to feel like she had nothing to offer that compared to the Riverses and their history and their superpowers.

  Blaise raised a brow. “You’re sounding a little testy.”

  Grady blew out a breath. “Sorry. Tired. It’s just that—well, you know, tough act to follow.”

  “I wasn’t aware you were following anyone,” Blaise said quietly.

  “Yeah, you’re right, that’s just me. Sometimes I’m competitive when I don’t need to be.”

  “I imagine that comes with the territory. I’ve never known a surgeon who wasn’t.”

  “Thanks for letting me off the hook. I didn’t mean to be an ass.”

  Blaise laughed. “Really?”

  “Okay, debatable.”

  Blaise smiled at that, taking the sting out of Grady’s embarrassment, and went on, “So, yes, the Rivers family home is known as the Homestead, after a time when theirs was one of the largest holdings in the area, and the Riverses one of the founding families. Now their home is always open to everyone in the community, and they do throw super parties. Mainly because Ida Rivers is perhaps the finest cook in five states, possibly more.”

  “So about this thing tonight,” Grady said, getting back to what really mattered. Because if Blaise was going to be there, she wanted to be there too. It beat the hell out of sitting around at home not watching bad television.

  “It’s supposed to be a celebration for the football team and the high school kids, but it sounds to me like it’s morphing into something a whole lot bigger.”

  “There will be adults there, right?” Grady asked.

  “From the sound of it, everyone will be there.” Blaise paused. “I’m on retrieval duty, so I’m not planning on going until I pick up the kids.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “I’ll give you the address,” Blaise said, “and you can GPS it if you decide to go. It’s just a few miles outside town.”

  “That would be great. If I had a vehicle.”

  Blaise stared. “You don’t have a car?”

  “I didn’t need one in the city. Parking was too expensive, and I didn’t go anywhere. If I needed to buy groceries, they have this nifty system where you can just rent a car for an hour. Pick it up at a designated spot, drive around, drop it off, and get charged. I guess you probably don’t have that here.”

  “I guess you’ll have to get used to walking a lot. Fortunately, there’s a good grocery store right in town and decent cafés, but if you want anything fancier than diner food or the bakery, you’re going to be in trouble.”

  “I don’t get out much,” Grady said.

  “Well, now that you’re not a resident, maybe that will change,” Blaise said.

  “Maybe a lot of things will change,” Grady murmured. “So I probably won’t see you tonight, then.”

  Blaise looked like she was going to say something and then stopped herself. “Well, as I said, I’m not planning on going.”

  “Right, I understand,” Grady said. “Saturday nights are probably, you know, jumping around here.”

  “You have no idea.” Blaise rose and gathered her plate and cutlery and carried everything over to the bins put out for them by the kitchen. “I’m going to drive over to Abby’s. Can I give you a ride home?”

  “No, thanks.” Grady deposited her dishes and walked outside with Blaise. If she could think of a reasonable way to prolong their time together, she would. She was facing a long day with nothing planned but a few hours’ sleep and not much else to do. Being with Blaise made an hour pass as if it was just a minute. When she was with her, she was unaware of anything else in the world, except Blaise. Reluctantly, she added, “I don’t live that far—I’ll just walk. But thanks. Thanks for breakfast too.”

  Blaise paused as if considering her words. She did that a lot. “I enjoyed it. Have a good day.”

  “You too,” Grady called as Blaise turned and jogged over to her SUV. She would’ve stood and watched Blaise drive away if that wouldn’t make her seem totally weird, which it would. When Blaise climbed into her vehicle without looking back, Grady finally walked off in the opposite direction. She wasn’t the least bit tired. Just the opposite. Exhilarated.

  If she’d been a whistling person, she might’ve whistled. The sun shone, the morning was proving to be a warm, early fall day, and she’d just spent an hour with a fascinating woman. She couldn’t ask for a lot more. Except to do it again.

  * * *

  Blaise pulled into the narrow drive on the side of Abby and Flann’s house, parked, and got out. Taylor, her blond hair in disarray, slouched on the porch swing, her feet propped on a white wicker coffee table, in a T-shirt featuring a band from when Blaise was young and sweatpants with the school logo down the thigh. Dave Kincaid, in a football jersey and matching sweats, occupied the opposite end of the glider. They looked half asleep.

  “Morning,” Blaise said as she let herself in through the gate in the white picket fence. A border of marigolds on either side of the stone walk defied the cooler nights, still packed with tight yellow and orange heads. The single-room schoolhouse had been retired with the construction of a larger modern school on the east side of town long before she was born and had been empty for years before being renovated. She had always loved the place and had secretly told herself one day it would come up for sale and she’d buy it. She hadn’t quite been able to manage it that spring, not with Taylor looking at colleges already and the college fund she’d started when Taylor was born looking less and less likely to cover the costs. Now Abby owned it and Taylor had made it her second home. Her plans, it seemed, would have to wait.

  “Hi, Mom,” Taylor called, yawning and closing her eyes again.

  And there was the reason she’d never be bitter when her plans took a shape she h
adn’t foreseen. “Morning, honey.”

  Dave murmured, “Good morning, Ms. Richelieu.”

  “Hi, Dave.” She rapped on the screen door and peered into the room beyond. She didn’t see anyone in the living room. She hadn’t thought about how early it still was on a Saturday. Hopefully she wasn’t disturbing anything intimate. If she was, she trusted Abby to let her know. While she waited, she faced her own simmering embarrassment. What an ass. She should have offered to give Grady a ride out to the Homestead for the party. The words had been on the tip of her tongue, and then she’d swallowed them. If Grady had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have hesitated. Maybe she’d held back because part of her wanted to offer. And wasn’t that too twisted to figure out, when the last thing she wanted to be doing was thinking about Grady McClure.

  “Hey,” Abby said from the other side of the screen door. “You coming in?”

  “Oh yes. Sorry. I was just…are you sure you’re not busy? I’m early. I can just collect the kids…”

  Abby glanced past her to the kids on the swing, cocked her brow, and gestured her inside. “Tim went home a while ago to babysit his younger brother. And those two aren’t even awake yet.” When they’d moved a few feet away into the living room, Abby continued in a low voice, “With a house full of kids, we took care of personal matters much earlier. Flann’s going for a run now. I’m already bored.”

  Blaise laughed. “I don’t see how you have time to be. I’m so sorry the kids have apparently designated this as their clubhouse.”

  Abby threw an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I told you, I really don’t mind. It’s easier on my nerves to have them here than wondering where they are and what they’re up to. You want coffee?”

  Blaise was about to say no, and then realized what she wanted as much as coffee was conversation. Taylor was clearly in no hurry to leave, and Abby was her best friend. “Half a cup. Otherwise I’ll never get to sleep today.”

  “Great.” Abby motioned her into the kitchen while she poured coffee. “You know where the cream and sugar are.”