“So what?” Joss replied, raising her chin. She wasn’t about to raise the white flag yet.
“So, I want you to be happy, darling. That’s all I’ve wanted for you.”
Happy like you were with Daddy? Joss wouldn’t say it, because she was afraid her sarcasm would bleed into her tone and put her mother on the defensive. But she really did want to know if her parents had been happy together. Or at least, if her mother had been happy. Until recently she’d assumed their marriage, while not perfect, had been satisfactory. But thanks to Sarah, Joss was beginning to learn what a relationship might look like. And it sure didn’t look like one partner sacrificing everything for the other. A relationship took work, compromise, patience, time, selflessness by both parties. All the things for which Joss had little natural aptitude or inclination, and neither, she assumed, had her father. Social mores of the time dictated that a man of his stature needed an attentive wife, but did he truly enjoy being part of a couple? Did he ever feel like one half of a whole? Did he ever truly respect his wife?
Swallowing her curiosity, she ate in silence for a few moments, digesting her mother’s motives for interfering before processing her much more complicated feelings for Sarah. While Sarah had gotten closer to her heart than any woman ever had, that didn’t mean there was room for her there. Not right now. And maybe not ever. She’d worked far too hard at her career to start slacking off now, and really, in the world of heart surgery, she was still just beginning to make a name for herself. She aspired to be one of the country’s leading heart valve surgeons, but she was not quite yet in that exalted echelon. There was still a lot of work ahead of her, and if she were honest, a relationship would only drag her down. I won’t do it to myself and I won’t do it to Sarah.
“Mama, I know you want me to be happy. And I am happy. My work makes me happy.”
“I know it does, dear. But is it enough?”
Ah, the million-dollar question. It had always been enough before, Joss thought. But now? She didn’t want to begin to question the state of her happiness—or unhappiness. Sarah had rocked her world enough as it was. She wasn’t about to completely throw it all in the trash bin.
“Look,” Joss said, using her hand to mop up the crumbs she’d spilled on the Formica tabletop. “Sarah and I will take that little trip to Sanibel Island, but only because we both need a vacation. After that…”
Madeline’s eyes twinkled. “After that, what?”
“After that, nothing.” Joss rose, glancing at her watch. “Thank you for lunch, Mama, but I need to go.”
“I expect a postcard next week.”
Joss laughed. “Go ahead and keep expecting.”
“Hopefully,” Madeline said with a smile in her voice, “you’ll be a little too busy for writing postcards.”
The shock of her mother’s words nearly made Joss drop her jacket on the floor. “You’re not suggesting premarital sex, are you?” she teased.
Madeline laughed into the back of her hand. “I’ll leave that decision up to you, my dear. Just be safe about it.”
“Wow. I never thought the day would come when my own mother would encourage me to go out and have sex.”
“Hush now, you don’t have to advertise it, you know.”
“Hell, I’m going to take out a full-page ad in The Tennessean.”
Chapter Eighteen
Sarah’s attention wandered throughout the flight to Fort Myers. She’d spent five minutes on the same page of Helen Humphreys’ new novel, and she was envious of Joss’s remarkable concentration. You could set a clock to the regularity with which she turned pages of The New England Journal of Medicine in her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration as she read. Clearly, Joss was not nearly as anxious about the trip as Sarah.
Sarah’s heart leapt to her throat every time she thought about what might happen between them tonight. Or if not tonight, then one of the six nights they’d be spending in the cozy, two-bedroom, beachside cottage. She was ready to give in to the fathomless physical need to be close to Joss—to touch her, taste her, kiss her. To be touched and tasted and kissed by her. To be held in her arms. To be swallowed whole by those green eyes that looked at her with a desire that seemed greater each time they were together. Sarah felt the connection between them growing in her body too. An innocent touch by Joss was now enough to ignite a spark that could nearly destroy her. She couldn’t imagine how a romantic, sexually charged touch might unravel her.
By the time their hired car pulled into the driveway of crushed seashells outside the white clapboard cottage, Sarah began to doubt all her preconceived conclusions about the trip. What if she’d gotten the signals all mixed up? What if Joss simply wanted some innocent companionship? Or worse, what if she dove into that thick briefcase of work she’d brought with her and hardly bothered with her at all? Sarah had brought only a sketchbook and a couple of novels to read. Would she have to amuse herself most of the week? Do her own thing and only be at Joss’s beck and call when she felt like a distraction? That would mean their trip was merely an extension of their little arrangement back home, and that was not at all what Sarah had in mind when she’d agreed to come here.
The truth was, she was growing weary of their arrangement and all its constrictions. It’d been fun at the start and provided her a much-needed financial boost. They’d pulled the whole stunt off remarkably well, she thought, and they’d grown to be good friends in the process. But she liked Joss as more than simply a friend. She was attracted to her. So attracted that she was nearly ready to throw herself naked in front of her. But the attraction was not limited to physical. She wanted, needed, to cross the boundaries and explore the forbidden emotional territory between them. She ached to find out if her gut instinct was right—that there was a very special bond between them, that they’d begun to need one another. Whenever she looked inside her heart these days, there was Joss, staking out a bigger and bigger claim. With a little more time together, she could, she realized, very easily fall in love with her.
“It’s cute,” Joss announced as they set their suitcases inside the small foyer. “I like it. Small but cozy.”
How cozy did you have in mind? Sarah was dying to ask, but she feared the answer.
The floors were ceramic tile, the walls a pale moss green. The kitchen was small but updated and functional—a full fridge, gas stove, double sinks, granite counter. It opened to a small eating area with a table for four and, beyond that, a living area with massive floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an unobstructed view to the beach. A small gas fireplace was nestled into the wall.
“I’m going to check out the bedrooms.”
Sarah hoped Joss wouldn’t follow, but she did. The first bedroom—the master—was large and bright. There was a skylight above the king bed, and sliding glass doors that appeared to lead to a private patio and the swimming pool. An en suite bathroom contained a two-person shower and soaker tub, double sinks.
“You take this room,” Sarah said, assuming Joss should have it, since her bid had won the trip. She bit her bottom lip, wishing Joss would suggest they share it, but at the same time, praying she didn’t.
“Not a chance,” Joss said. “You take it. I’ll take the other.”
The second bedroom was smaller and much less bright, with room only for a double bed and a small dresser. Joss threw one of her suitcases on the bed by way of claiming the room. They were (God, please!) going to make love on this trip. Joss had pretty much promised (hadn’t she?), and now Sarah found herself wondering when and in which bed. This one or the larger one? The thought sent a streak of excitement through her, and for a split second, she considered suggesting they just get it over with now so that it wasn’t sweet torture hanging over them. Maybe, she thought wickedly, she should strip off her clothes and throw herself on the bed. See if Joss could resist that! But as tempting as the idea sounded, she knew she’d never be so bold.
Back in the kitchen, Joss discovered a bottle of expensive champagne and a ch
eese plate in the refrigerator along with a welcome note.
“Shall we toast ourselves?” Joss asked, removing the foil from the bottle.
Sarah laughed, glad to have the champagne as a distraction from thoughts of sex. “It’s well past noon. We’re safe.” Except I don’t want to be safe with you. I want us to drink that bottle and then I want you to ravage me.
Standing in the small kitchen, they clinked glasses and sipped the champagne. Joss had set the cheese plate on the breakfast bar, and she snatched a piece of Swiss.
“The apple cinnamon cheese looks delicious. Aren’t you going to try something?” Joss asked between bites.
Sarah shook her head, not trusting her voice. She couldn’t stand being this close to Joss while talking about something as mundane as food. She was deeply curious about Joss’s thoughts, about whether they were on the same page or not. And about what came next. This was worse than high school, worse than a first date, and the anticipation and confusion were driving her nuts. She’d thought she knew what Joss wanted, but now? Now she had no clue.
Joss set her glass down and stepped toward Sarah. “Are you okay, Sarah?”
Sarah nodded, setting her own glass down. She tried to play it cool, to let Joss make the first move. Or any move. Joss had invited her here, Joss had always set the rules, dictated the pace and nature of their relationship. No, Sarah thought, I won’t make the first move.
“You don’t really look okay,” Joss said, stepping closer, putting her hands lightly on Sarah’s shoulders. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Sarah stared at Joss’s mouth, her lips, wanting to reach up and touch them with the tip of her finger, now that they were so close. She breathed in Joss’s scent, tried to decipher the jumble of emotions in Joss’s eyes, and couldn’t speak for a long moment. Roughly, she said, “I don’t know what you want.”
“What do you want, Sarah?”
Sarah drew a nervous breath. Someone had to do something, dammit. “I want to kiss you. And then I want you to make love to me.” Like we’d agreed, Sarah wanted to say. Or kind of agreed. Unless I got it all wrong.
“Oh, Sarah.” Joss pressed her to her, held her tightly, buried her face in her hair, her neck. Sarah could feel her inhale deeply and felt the heat of her hands on her back.
Worried suddenly, Sarah said, “Don’t you want to?”
Joss began to kiss her—slowly, tenderly, carefully, as though she were afraid to turn up the heat too much. The tingling began at the base of Sarah’s spine and spread to the pit of her belly, a pleasure-pain that only Joss could create. And relieve.
“Yes,” Joss muttered around the kiss. “I do want to. So much.”
Sarah pressed herself harder against Joss, licked the sweet champagne from her lips and kissed her again. “Why do I detect a but in there?”
Joss pulled back to look at Sarah, and Sarah was pleased to see the high color in Joss’s cheeks, as if she’d stepped in from the cold. “I need to go slower, that’s all. I need a little time.”
Abruptly, she moved away. She was all business suddenly, picking up the champagne flutes and handing Sarah hers. “I read about a great seafood place we can walk to from here. And I’m starving. How about it?”
Sarah raised an accusatory eyebrow at Joss. “Nice change in subject.”
Joss paused, then broke into a slow grin. “Did it work?”
“Maybe. But when we get back, I want us to take a stroll on the beach.” It was not a very original tactic, but she hoped a moonlit walk might move things back in the right direction.
* * *
Moments ago, Joss had been starving, but now that the huge plate of shrimp pasta was in front of her, her stomach seemed to shrink. She couldn’t help thinking about what Sarah had in mind later. Sure, the walk on the beach sounded innocent enough and like something she could handle. But what about after that? When it was dark and they were inside that little cottage together? Sarah had made it obvious what was on her mind. Hell, the same thoughts had been tantalizing her for days, the way a fire begins with a few sparks before gradually consuming every ounce of air in its path. And now that Sarah was seated in front of her, wearing a bright yellow sundress, Joss only wanted to slide the straps down her creamy shoulders and kiss the soft, faintly freckled skin there.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Sarah ventured, her eyebrow posing that little challenge again.
I can’t stand much more, Joss thought a little desperately. Not moonlight, not more champagne and most certainly not another kiss. She was beginning to buckle under the pressure, but she was a coward, and she changed the subject to Roxi. She told Sarah how she’d made Nancy promise to text her if anything changed in the girl’s condition.
Once dinner was behind them, there was no possibility of Joss evading the walk along the beach outside their cottage. The stretch of white sand was deserted, the soft lap of the rhythmic waves hypnotic in their tranquility. The hazy moon cast a soft glow, like light being filtered through muslin. Palm leaves waved languidly in the light breeze, and Joss turned her face into the warm caress of the humid, salty air. It’d been years since she’d enjoyed tropical weather in the winter.
“I love a beach at night,” Sarah proclaimed, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. “It’s so peaceful. So soothing. So nourishing.”
And romantic, Joss thought. Although she did not consider herself a romantic, she felt sure Sarah had wanted to use that word, because Sarah was most definitely a romantic. She probably liked flowers too and little love notes on her pillow and unexpected kisses in the middle of the day. Jesus, Joss thought with sudden alarm. Why am I thinking of flowers and love notes and kisses?
As they walked, they were so close their shoulders almost brushed. Holding hands would have made it perfect, but then, that would be romantic, Joss thought derisively. And I don’t do romance, especially not with a woman who could easily wrap me around that little finger of hers and make me lose myself. No. I cannot and will not lose myself in Sarah. Or in any woman.
Sarah announced, “You’re still being awfully quiet. Are you having second thoughts about…all this?”
“No,” Joss lied. She was long past second thoughts and was onto third and fourth thoughts.
“You said earlier you need more time. I’d like to know what’s on your mind, Joss. Because this…this distance you’re putting between us is killing me. It’s almost like we’re strangers again.”
They stopped and faced one another, their bare toes sinking into the soft, fine sand.
“I…” Words escaped Joss. There was no question she wanted to make love with Sarah. And there was no question that Sarah wanted her to. They both knew, going into this trip, that sex was pretty much a foregone conclusion. But Joss’s feet had been growing steadily colder, and she was panicking a little. She’d never been this hesitant about making love to a woman. Had never had the question roll around in her mind like a spinning top that never came to rest.
Sarah reached out and ran a finger along Joss’s forearm, and the touch nearly undid Joss. “Please,” Sarah whispered. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s worrying you.”
Joss halted the traveling fingertips of Sarah’s right hand. With her other hand, she brushed the fine strands of Sarah’s hair from her face. God, she was so beautiful in this moment. The way the moonlight was golden on her hair, the way it shadowed her eyes but not her lips, which were full and naturally pink and so in need of kissing.
“You,” Joss said in a voice thick with desire, “frighten the hell out of me.”
Sarah stepped closer, her breasts faintly brushing against Joss’s chest. “I don’t mean to. Will you tell me why?”
Joss couldn’t move. “If we make love,” she finally said in a trembling voice, “I’m not sure I’ll recognize myself anymore.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Sarah’s cheek nuzzled against Joss’s palm. Her skin felt warm, flushed, and Joss’s breath left her in a rush.
“It could be
a very bad thing. For you. For me,” Joss said.
“Let me worry about me.” Sarah began kissing the palm of Joss’s hand.
Her legs quivering, Joss fought the urge to run. So what if she was a coward. So what if she turned down this gorgeous woman who was offering herself up on a silver platter. So what if she added another layer to the concrete wall she had built around her heart. It was her heart, her life, and if she didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t want to give herself up to this woman, then so be it, dammit.
Sarah’s lips were now at the corner of her mouth, planting soft little kisses that were not much stronger than the sultry breeze.
“Sarah,” Joss whispered, dizzy suddenly. She closed her eyes and let her chest swell as Sarah kissed her full on. It was a slow, tender kiss that shook Joss to her toes. It was the kind of kiss that made you forget where you were, who you were, and that made you think you were borrowing trouble kissing a woman on a deserted moonlit beach like this, with a bed only a few dozen yards away.
Sarah’s arms moved around her neck, stroking the back of her head as their mouths continued to explore and claim one another. Joss’s hands had their own ideas and began to move, sliding lower and lower down Sarah’s back until they brushed the soft fabric of the light sundress covering her backside. Her hands lingered, caressed, and finally cupped the solid mounds of flesh.
By Mutual Consent Page 14