Love on the Night Shift

by Radclyffe

  Flann carefully leaned back, drained the rest of her beer, and set the cup on the floor. She needed a lot more than that ten seconds to gather her thoughts, which had scattered to the wind like chaff in a summer gale. She took a deep breath. This she could not fuck up. “Okay. How do you feel about it?”

  “That’s my question,” Margie said with a spark of her usual attitude.

  “No fair,” Flann said, “I asked you first.”

  “I don’t know,” Margie said after a long minute. “Mostly good. I mean, it’s Blake. And it was really quick. I’m not sure it actually counts as a kiss.”

  “Well, were there lips involved?”

  Margie rolled her eyes. “Well, duh, yes.”

  Flann couldn’t bring herself to ask any more.

  Margie laughed. “But that was all, and Courtney was standing right there. It’s not like it was, you know, going anywhere.”

  Flann wanted to clap her hands over her ears. Oh, fuck. Did she really want to hear this? She couldn’t not, now that they were here finally, thin ice be damned. “Okay, about the going somewhere. Is that in the cards, do you think?”

  There, she just put it out there. Time to stop pussyfooting around the subject.

  “I don’t know that either,” Margie said. “But I didn’t want there to be any big secret about anything, just in case. Because, you know, it’s complicated. You and Abby and Blake and me.”

  “You know what,” Flann said, the storm finally settling, the air growing still, and her thoughts clearing. “It’s not really complicated. Abby and I care about both of you, a lot. We love you. And you’re both terrific. And if there’s more, and it’s what you both want, that’ll be just fine.”

  Margie studied her with that way-too-old expression she sometimes got in her eyes, even back when she’d been a kid. So smart, always so scary smart. “You’re not the same as you used to be, you know.”

  “Oh. Am I about to be insulted?”

  “Well, you’re still, you know, a little bit of a know-it-all, so you’re still you, the one who is always certain, always ready to jump into any situation and fix it, but you’re…I dunno, you see more now.”

  “I see more now,” Flann said quietly. “I think that’s because of Abby. I think that’s what happens when you fall in love, and you learn a lot more about yourself when you do.”

  “Well, I’m not there yet,” Margie said. “But I’m good.”

  Flann shoved over, flung an arm around Margie’s shoulders, and dragged her close. She kissed the top of her head. “Kiddo, you’re a lot more than good. You’re a Rivers.”

  Margie threaded her arm around Flann’s waist and rested her head on her shoulder. “Yeah. I am.”

  * * *

  Blaise finally tracked down Abby sharing a beer with Carson and a couple of other hospital staff in the upstairs sitting room.

  Abby noticed her at the edge of the crowd and joined her. “Hi! Did you track down our errant offspring?”

  Blaise shook her head. “We’ve still got three unaccounted for…Dave, Tim, and Taylor.”

  “If you’re ready to go home,” Abby said, “why don’t you just go. I’ll be here for a while unwinding anyhow. I’ll catch up with Flann, and we’ll make sure the kids all get sorted out. I’ll have Taylor text you with her plans.”

  “Are you sure?” Blaise waffled, and she didn’t like that. She hadn’t even intended to stay when she’d arrived, and here she was, an hour or more later. Now she was more than ready to leave, and she hesitated. All because of the little matter of Grady McClure. She’d offered Grady a ride and now what? Leave with her, alone? The memory of a mesmerizing face in the moonlight, warm fingers, and her still thundering heart decided her. “Maybe I’ll just stay and wait for the kids.”

  Abby tilted her head. “Okay, so what now?”

  Blaise knew she was blushing, damn it. “Nothing, really. I told Grady I’d give her a ride home because Courtney’s off with Mel having puppies. But I’m sure she can get a ride with someone else.”

  “Oh, okay.” Abby gave her a look. “So you want to hang around here, waiting to possibly give the kids a ride somewhere, even though you’ve had your fill of the party, and I can do it just as easily, all so you don’t have to give Grady a ride home?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Um. How is it, then?”

  “Damn it.” Blaise glanced around, happy that no one was close enough to overhear the conversation. The sitting room was as large as the formal living room downstairs, with big bay windows opposite the entrance, another huge fireplace, and a scattering of sofas and overstuffed chairs. Even though the party seemed to be slowing down, at least half a dozen people were sprinkled around the room. None close, though.

  “It’s the weirdest thing,” Blaise said. “I can’t quite figure out whether I like her or not.”

  “Has she done something that you don’t care for?”

  “She’s an outrageous flirt. And she seemed so sure of herself—and of me, as if I’m just going to give in at any second and let her kiss me.”

  “Oh.” Abby nodded approvingly. “Well, that’s progress, then.”

  Blaise laughed. Dramatic much? “I hate you.”

  Abby grinned. “That’s allowed. I am your best friend, right?”

  “I just don’t know how to feel around her.”

  “Well, maybe you should stop thinking about it and just go with whatever it is you’re feeling when you’re with her.”

  An icy tentacle wrapped itself around Blaise’s spine. “I can’t do that.”

  Abby studied her. “Why not?”

  “Because I can’t.”

  Abby gently grasped her wrist. Her fingers were warm, the touch comforting in its gentleness. “All right. Then go slow and be careful, but try to trust your feelings and not think everything to death.”

  Blaise sighed. “I’m not sure I know how.”

  “Well, I think you do,” Abby said, lightness in her voice, “so you can just trust me.”

  Blaise took a deep breath. If only it was that easy. “Make sure Taylor texts me, okay? And I can come back if I need to.”

  Abby squeezed her wrist ever so slightly and let go. “I will. Now, go do something for yourself.”

  As Blaise made her way back downstairs, pausing only slightly when someone called her name, to smile and return the greeting, she thought about what Abby had said. Something for herself. What would that look like?

  She had done something for herself all of her adult life, hadn’t she? She’d had her child because she wanted her, and she’d raised an amazing daughter. She had a job she loved that let her give something to her friends and her community by doing it. She had a home—an entire community that she cared about. Weren’t all those things for herself? And yet—there were those moments that snuck up on her in the quiet hours when the world slowed down enough for her to feel the absence of…something.

  She walked into the kitchen, and Grady pushed away from the wall by the door where she’d been leaning back out of the crowd. Half a dozen people filled the space between them, but Grady’s gaze caught hers instantly and held it. As if she’d been waiting. Not just for a few minutes, but for far longer.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Grady had been passing the time waiting for Blaise by people watching. She wasn’t a big partygoer in general—mostly because she didn’t have a lot of time, and she’d never had many intimates, just colleagues, not like best friends or people she’d hang out with after work. For years, her whole life, all her personal interactions, had been with people at the hospital, and most of those had been her fellow residents. Fellow being the accurate description. There were some women, of course, and a lot more than there used to be, but in surgery, still, lots of men. And the further along in her training she went, the more that seemed to be the case. The subgroup of surgery residents formed a small community within the larger hospital circle, and the dozen or so in her year were the individuals she ate w
ith, worked with, and slept with. She got along with them fine and never felt the need to hide who she was or much of anything about her private life except the details of what and with whom. But the hours she kept, the odd competitive camaraderie she shared with her peers, and the transitory nature of most of her sexual interactions didn’t make for much in the way of long-term friendships. So parties always struck her as being a gathering of strangers all hoping to connect.

  The people at the Homestead celebration seemed different—not as disposed to congregate in separate little islands ignoring everyone else. Of course that might be because most of them had grown up together or had lived there for a long time. Maybe that wasn’t true, either, but she didn’t think there was anything particularly magical about the place. Maybe a shared history was enough to overcome other differences, at least when face-to-face. She wondered how long she’d be considered the outsider—not exactly an unusual situation for her, but one she unexpectedly wanted to change.

  She’d figured out right away who the matriarch of the Rivers family was. Ida Rivers was a handsome woman, midnight hair faintly silvered, a mostly unlined face, strong graceful body, and a gently commanding air that said she was in charge without needing to demonstrate her authority. People, old and young, congregated around her. Grady recognized Harper and her wife Presley Worth when they stopped to chat with Ida before grabbing food and drinks and disappearing. She’d met Presley briefly the day she’d started on staff. Harper was an easy call, since she looked a lot like Flann with contrasting coloring.

  Although a stranger and essentially alone in the crowd, Grady felt comfortable hanging back, unnoticed.

  Everything changed the instant Blaise appeared in the doorway. The air sharpened, the soft orange glow from the open hearth at one end of the room blazed brighter, and her skin tingled as each tiny hair vibrated with an electric charge. Blaise was beautiful. Grady wondered if she even knew that and decided she probably didn’t. Everything she’d learned about Blaise said she rarely thought about herself. As if everything that mattered were the things outside her, like her daughter or the hospital or even her friendships with the people around her. Whatever seethed inside her, whatever wants she had—and she must have them, there were too many sparks of passion glimmering beneath her surface for that not to be the case—she kept hidden. From everyone.

  And that was a challenge. What did Blaise want—for herself, from a woman? Intriguing, fascinating, exciting. Blaise caught her watching and stared back, bold and intense. She didn’t look away, the way she might have just a day before. Was she searching for Grady’s secrets, the same way Grady searched? And if she was, what did she see? Grady knew what Blaise thought she saw. A woman who was into casual relationships; confident—maybe, no, definitely more than was warranted; sexy, she hoped, but not the kind to commit. Grady knew she projected that. Mostly it was true, and partly it was just easier.

  And for the first time, that wasn’t what she wanted another woman to see. She wasn’t sure exactly what she did want Blaise to see, except she was serious. Serious about getting to know her. And damn serious about kissing her. If Blaise wanted the first before the second, she’d be as patient as she could. Maybe.

  She kept her gaze on Blaise as Blaise threaded her way across the room to her.

  “Sorry that took me a little while,” Blaise said.

  “No problem,” Grady said. “I was having a good time just watching the natives.”

  Blaise chuckled. “I can’t imagine that occupied your interest for more than thirty seconds.”

  “Not true,” Grady said. “I like sorting out the power structure. It tells you a lot about the people.”

  “Oh?” Blaise raised an eyebrow. “And what did you discern?”

  “Well, as near as I could tell, Ida Rivers is probably the mayor, and if she isn’t, she is unofficially. Flann and Harper—in fact, all her kids—are her honor guard. Harper’s in line for the throne, Flann, she’s the first sword. Carson, the advisor, and young Margie…” Grady laughed. “She will be the strategist.”

  “Let me guess, you’ve been reading epic fantasy in your off hours.”

  “I don’t have much time to read,” Grady said, “but I confess that I do have a liking for the politics and intrigue of those kind of big-canvas stories.”

  “Well, I can’t say that you’re wrong in your assessment. Very good indeed.”

  “You want to know what I think about you?” Grady said.

  Blaise shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not? I know you’re not a coward.”

  “Well, thank you very much,” Blaise said tartly. “First, if you got it wrong, I’d be insulted. And if you got it right, I’d be even more insulted that I was so easy to read. So it’s a no-win scenario. Are you still looking for a ride home?”

  Grady laughed. “Nice deflection. You’re really good at that, and since I’ve already said it, that’s not news.”

  “And you are really good at not answering questions.”

  “You’re right,” Grady said. “That maybe sums us both up, don’t you think?”

  Blaise regarded her with her eyes slightly narrowed, assessing. “Yes. Definitely not compatible.”

  “Oh no,” Grady said, “I wouldn’t necessarily draw that conclusion. Complementary might be a better word.”

  “A ride home?” Blaise repeated, determined not to get into another personal conversation that she never wanted to have and couldn’t seem to avoid where Grady was concerned.

  “Persistent, I’ll add that too,” Grady said. “But we share that one. Only I want to see more of you, and you want…less?”

  The question in her eyes and the shadow of uncertainty in her tone demanded truth. Blaise sighed. “I never said that. Can we—for the moment—stick with the present question? As in a ride home. Are you ready?”

  “Sure, if you are.”

  When Grady didn’t push the issue of anything more personal, Blaise snuffed out a spark of disappointment. Really, could she not stay with a single decision when Grady was around? Casual, friendly, nothing more. “I’ve been ready since I got here. I have no idea how I ended up staying, when all I was going to do was drop the kids off.”

  “I think it was preordained,” Grady said as she held the door open for Blaise. They walked out side by side and down the steps into the refreshingly cool darkness. “So you could give me a ride home.”

  “Of course, that must be it.”

  Grady laughed.

  The knots in Blaise’s neck loosened the moment they left the lights and noise behind, and she took a deep breath, letting the scent of pine and wood smoke soothe her. “God, it’s a beautiful night.”

  “It is,” Grady said softly.

  Blaise glanced her way. Grady was watching her. Impulsively, she asked, “What do you think of it?”

  “The night, the party, the town…you?” Grady asked.

  “All except the last,” Blaise said as she remoted her door locks.

  “One of these times you’re going to let me tell you what I think of when I see you.”

  “Tonight is not that night.” Blaise climbed into the SUV as Grady, shaking her head, swung around the front to get in the opposite side.

  As Grady buckled in, she said, “It’s a gorgeous night. I love the fall. I’m not really super keen on the dead of winter, but I love the briskness of nights like this.”

  “Mm, me too. Perfect for a hayride.”

  “Um,” Grady said skeptically, “I’m not sure how I feel about hay in my…you know…anywhere.”

  Blaise snorted. “I was talking about riding in a big hay wagon with neighbors, decorated with a few pumpkins, that kind of thing. Not sex.”

  “Oh. Okay. Really?”

  “You’ll see in October.” Smiling at the image of Grady in a hay wagon, Blaise pulled out and headed toward the two lane back to town.

  “The town,” Grady said, “I like it. At least what I’ve seen so far. And the hospi
tal is totally awesome. Amazing opportunities. Great staff, excellent referral sources, plenty of challenges, especially with the medeva—”

  Blaise reached across the center console and squeezed Grady’s forearm. “No shop talk, Doctor. You’re off call for the moment.”

  “Roger that.” Grady stiffened at the touch on her arm, hoping Blaise wouldn’t move her hand. Of course, she did after just a few seconds. Grady figured she had maybe ten minutes more of Blaise’s company. She wanted to make the most of them, and she wanted Blaise to know they meant something to her.

  “Did you ever find Taylor?” Grady asked.

  “No. Taylor, Tim, and Dave were somewhere else in the house. Abby is on kid search. She’ll have Taylor text me.”

  Grady hesitated. “Listen, I don’t think it’s a major issue, but that kid, Billy Riley—”

  Blaise snapped her attention from the road to Grady. “You know Billy?”

  “Met him tonight.”

  “What happened?”

  “Actually, nothing. I happened to be in the library with Courtney, eating. Taylor was there with her friends, and Riley came in. He wanted Taylor to go with him to another party. She said no.”

  Blaise muttered an oath under her breath. “He is so persistent. That worries me.”

  “I get that,” Grady said. “Some people just don’t know when to quit.”

  Blaise raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

  “That’s not me, Blaise.”

  “I know that.” Blaise sighed. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I’m just angry at Billy.”

  “No apology needed. Taylor said she’d already told you he was pestering her, but just so you know. She said she was handling it, and she was.”

  “It’s funny, that your children want to protect you.” Blaise shook her head. “I’m sure there are dozens of things she doesn’t tell me. Some of them she probably should, but I guarantee she tells me a whole lot more than I ever told my mother.”

  “Well, if she tells you anything, it’s more than I ever told mine,” Grady said.

  “Not close?”

  “Not the heart-to-heart-talk kind of close, no.” Grady smiled wryly. “More like you’re the symbol of my success, so don’t screw up kind of thing.”