“Not exactly.” Between the hot air, cold water, and Clary’s hands, Leefe trembled. She fixed her gaze on Clary.
“Arch your back a little, and don’t worry if water goes into your ears. Ears know how to handle the water. Trust your body.”
The ducks squawked at the intrusion. Leefe watched the water drip down Clary’s face, across the clothes plastered to her body.
“Make a T with your arms, and move your feet,” Clary said. “That’s good. How do you feel?”
Like I could kiss the living daylights out of you, Leefe thought, unable to look away from the wet T-shirt molded to Clary’s body. “You’re holding me up.”
Clary held up both hands and grinned. “Am I?”
In full panic, Leefe went under, and water closed over her until strong arms and hands stood her up. She spewed water and coughed. “That was my fault.”
Clary wiped Leefe’s face with her fingers. “You can do this. Put your arms out again, the same as you did before.”
Determined to get it right, Leefe stretched out, and this time, when Clary held up her hands, she floated. “I can’t believe it. I’m not sinking.” She grinned up at Clary, saw the weak moonlight reflected in her eyes, the wet T-shirt that outlined her ribs—oh, the breasts—and went down again. When Clary stood her up, they stared helplessly at each other.
“Are you cold?” Leefe felt Clary shiver.
“Hardly,” Clary said.
For a second, it was completely quiet, as if the earth had stopped. Leefe couldn’t even hear the water hit the jetties, but she was certain she heard Clary’s heart. She wanted to touch Clary so bad that she clenched her hands.
“What’s wrong?” Leefe said, inching nearer.
“Nothing. Everything. If I don’t kiss you right now, we’re both going down.” Clary held Leefe’s face and gave her a crushing, hot kiss. “Come with me.” Clary pulled her through the water, up the front porch, and into the house. Before Leefe could say anything, Clary pulled off her wet shirt and shorts, left them on the floor, and tugged her into the bedroom. “You’ve got too many clothes on,” Clary said, and then stopped. Her hands to her side, she lowered her head. “Damn, I’m doing this wrong. You can say no.” She turned and held Leefe.
Feeling the bare belly and breasts against her, Leefe’s mind almost exploded. She stepped out of her shorts, and pulled off her shirt, her heart raging. She’d beg if she had to.
“It’s risky,” Clary said in a low, hesitant voice. “I’m a work in progress. Think about it, Leefe. There’s a lot we haven’t talked about. I’m sorry—”
“Kiss me.” Leefe tightened her arms.
Clary kissed her, her mouth hot. She backed her up until Leefe could feel the hammock against her bare legs. She fell backward, Clary on top of her.
They swung, and Clary said, “This hammock…”
“It’s a virgin hammock.” Leefe shivered as Clary’s warm mouth found her breast and a hand caressed her stomach. “The hammock’s easier than it looks,” Leefe whispered as Clary settled her body on her. She wrapped her legs around Clary, held her breath as fingers explored her and then found the right places. Slowly and carefully, taking time across her body, Clary touched her and then filled her, holding her securely, safely. On overload, Leefe tried to hold all the pleasure, but when Clary’s mouth teased her nipple again, it hit. She was so unprepared that she yelled. Every piece of her body pounded, and she felt Clary’s hot breath on her face.
“Sorry,” Leefe gasped. “So fast,” she began, but Clary stopped her with an out-of-this-world kiss.
“Never sorry,” Clary said against her mouth. “More.”
Too tuned up to think clearly, Leefe pulled back. “Wait, Clary.” She held the beautiful shoulders firmly above her. “Let me see you, touch you. I could hardly draw you tonight because I wanted you so much.” Clary lifted onto her elbows but left their bodies entwined, echoing the length of Leefe’s body. Gulping for breath, she traced Clary’s breast for a long moment and ran her hands over ribs, the smooth hips and stomach, committing the feeling to memory. Clary shuddered.
“If you don’t do something, I’m a dead woman. I can hardly breathe.”
“We’ve got all night,” Leefe murmured and turned them over, retracing and admiring the body under her. Soft skin against her hands teased her fingers. “Now I’m really going to touch you.” And she did.
Much later, drenched with sweat and sex, they simply held each other, too tired to move. Leefe pulled a light sheet over them and fit herself into Clary’s body.
*
Something woke Clary. Instinctively, she tightened her arms around Leefe and knew where she was. Right where I belong. She licked her lips and tasted Leefe.
The heat had broken and it was cool. She took a relieved breath. Was it too fast? She hadn’t intended on this, but she’d rested on the couch in front of Leefe’s art class and imagined it. Hadn’t she? Every time she’d opened her eyes, she’d seen matching desire on Leefe’s face. She couldn’t have taken another minute looking at Leefe in the water, wet clothes outlining everything, the shift of firm muscles against her hands and arms. She’d lost her mind for a moment out there.
Leefe’s passion and heat surprised her, not to mention skillful, clever hands and mouth. Her eyes tracked Leefe’s body in the dim light, and her body followed with an aching, grinding arousal. Leefe’s gorgeous small breasts rose, and skin stretched across muscle and bone. She memorized the body with her hands, leaving a trail of goose bumps on her own skin.
This was not casual sex. This was the most intimate moment she’d ever shared with anyone and, for the first time, she felt as if she’d made love to someone’s mind as well as her body. Leefe was the real deal. No summer affair here. What have I done, and now what? Her hand rested on the slender hip, and Leefe snuggled closer. Clary’s mind raced. How to do this, make it work? I have to go back to Iowa.
Truth was the only way to handle this. She’d been honest with Leefe, and her instincts told her that Leefe had been the same. If she’d ever had anything close to this, she couldn’t remember, and she wasn’t going to let it go. She glimpsed the person she’d feared was gone forever. Herself, and the knot inside her had loosened. Her body wasn’t broken. In the morning, they’d talk over breakfast and work out a plan. She smiled, sleepy and satisfied, closing her eyes.
When she opened her eyes again the curtains were still drawn, but filtered sunlight lit the room around her, and the air smelled like bacon and coffee. She yawned and stretched in the hammock. This was like sleeping in air. The hammock moved. Amused, beautiful eyes, surrounded by long, black eyelashes peered down at her. Clary pulled Leefe across her, and the hammock swung.
“Do we have time before breakfast? Wait, you’re already dressed.” Clary slid her hands under Leefe’s white tank top and enclosed both breasts, closing her eyes with pleasure. She heard Leefe pull in a breath. This was too good to be true.
“Don’t think so, but that feels good. Whew,” Leefe said, her voice shaking. The hammock tipped dangerously as she slid away. “Besides, guess what?”
Clary grinned up at her. “What?”
“Jesse’s on her way over here. It’s your call.” Leefe lifted her eyebrows, flashed her remarkable eyes, and backed away. “I’ve already showered.”
“Damn,” Clary said. Somehow, her feet hit the floor without a stumble. She grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom.
When Clary stepped out of the shower, she heard Jesse’s voice in the kitchen. She finished dressing, tried to tame her hair, and finally threw the comb down in frustration. Jesse had seen it worse, but Leefe hadn’t. She picked up the comb and went back to work.
Jesse was pouring coffee when Clary came into the kitchen. “Leefe’s doing something with the dryer. You’re kind of wrinkled.” She pointed at Clary’s white shirt.
“We had an art class and a swimming lesson last night.” Clary picked up a piece of bacon. “She’ll be a good swimmer.”<
br />
“Ready to eat?” Leefe said, putting the folded T-shirt and shorts into Clary’s bag. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Any way you make them.” Clary kissed her cheek. “Want some help?”
“Nope. My stove, my house.” Leefe’s eyes shone.
There were yellow impatiens in a bowl in the middle of the table, almost as bright as the sunlight. Clary looked up, right into Leefe’s smile.
“What’s up, Lowden?” Clary said and, for a brief moment, didn’t like the way Jesse was so at home here.
“They’re moving Devi’s mother to Milwaukee. Leefe, you need to keep up on this. The father’s in holding. We finally got the story from him.” Jesse poured more coffee into her cup.
Leefe put potatoes, bacon, and eggs on Clary’s plate.
“The father found her, high, with one of her regulars under the Eighth Street Bridge, and they got into it with a couple of pieces of rebar, in front of the kids. He says she hit him first, and he was only defending himself. The son confirmed his father’s story,” Jesse said and took a drink of coffee. “Girls,” Jesse said in a condescending tone of voice, “this is your business, but Leefe, you should have been at the day care last night.”
Leefe lifted her chin and stared Jesse down. “You weren’t in that meeting with Beverly. That meeting was about the counseling for what they’d been through with their parents. Howard was there. Ask him. Besides, I told Beverly that Albie would be with Devi last night, not me.”
Clary watched the two of them. Leefe appeared absolutely unfazed, her voice calm.
“Just a heads-up,” Jesse said and put her cup on the counter. “Have a nice day.”
It was all Clary could do not to punch the air and yell Yes. “Pay no attention,” she said. “She was checking us out, and I doubt she was worried about Devi.”
“I’ve tried, believe me.” Leefe dropped her fork on her plate.
Clary finished her food and stood. “Don’t let her take this from us. Last night was special. You’re special.” She folded Leefe to her. “I want to try that hammock again, soon.” Hands under Leefe’s top, she caressed the skin. “I get to do the next breakfast.”
“Thanks for the swimming lesson,” Leefe said with a smile finally beginning at the corners of her mouth.
“Let’s swim every chance we get…if I can keep my hormones from getting the best of me.”
Leefe leaned back with a flirty grin. “No, I got the best of you.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Whoo, baby. Clary’s mind felt like pudding, and the bright razzle-dazzle inside had her humming as she walked into Maureen’s kitchen. She’d dropped Leefe off at the day care and missed her already.
The house phone rang, and she grinned when she heard her mother’s voice. Of all the things Clary loved about her vibrant, sixty-two-year-old mother, the warm and charismatic voice was close to the top. It always rang through her like a soft bell.
“How’s your trip, and how’s Dad?” Clary said.
“I’ve never had a vacation like this. It’s sort of unreal, like the pictures.” Her mother hesitated. “Well, we did have a small problem last weekend.”
Clary dropped her keys and clothes bag on the table and sat, braced for the news. Her parents could find their way into the oddest situations.
“We had a bit too much to drink, and your father managed to sprain his left ankle. He’s on crutches and crabby as the devil, sitting in the closest deck chair, reading.”
Clary smothered a laugh. “How bad?”
“He’ll be on crutches for a few days, but we’ll get him up and going. It’s our last week and we still have so much to do.”
Poor Dad, Clary thought, caught between her energetic mother and Maureen. Uncle Joe would help her father. When her mother asked how things were going in South Port, Clary thought about Leefe. Instead, she said, “I’m on my way to Piper’s. She’s running a summer class and asked me to consult. I told Aunt Mo when we talked before. Did she tell you?”
“Yes, she did, and it sounds interesting. Good for Piper for doing this.” Clary could hear the smile in her mother’s voice. “How’s Jesse?”
“Tired, overworked, and crabbier than you describe Dad.” Clary picked up a pen and tapped it on the table. “In fact, I’ve never seen this side of her.”
“What’s going on up there?” Her mother’s voice shifted into a familiar protective sound.
“Jesse’s just acting strange.”
“Jesse’s always been strange.” Clary’s mother gave a little snort. “She’s moody, and her temper got worse as she got older. The worst I ever saw her was when you were in England.”
Clary straightened, her pen paused. “What do you mean, Mom?”
“I don’t know. She was abrupt and distant. She was in Milwaukee at the police academy. She sort of disappeared just before you got home. I think she stayed in Milwaukee, and that was frankly kind of a relief. She was always so protective of you.”
“She was protective of Sharon too,” Clary said.
“No, not so much.” Her voice suddenly dropped, almost to a whisper. “Clary, not a good time to talk. Is there a problem?”
Clary stared down at the paper. “No, not really.”
“Well then, how’s Mojo’s?”
“I was just there. Tell Aunt Mo it’s her best year yet, and the weather’s helping. I even had the boat out and fished, and it was great.” She could hear women’s voices in the background, then Aunt Mo’s laughter.
“How are you, honey? Is being away from Iowa helping?”
Clary’s heart gave a little bump. “Best news. I’ve met someone.”
“It’s about time. That’s what vacations are for.”
“No, not a…you know…fling.” Clary debated what to say. “I’m really interested, and it’s someone Maureen knows. In fact, she stays here sometimes and rents Aunt Mo’s house, down on the jetties. The gingerbread house.”
There was a split-second of hesitation in her mother’s voice. “I know who you mean. She has an odd name. Runs the day care?”
“Right, Leefe Ellis.” Clary stared outside, at the deck. Her mother’s voice had just changed.
“She and Maureen have known each other for a while, but they’ve become closer in the last year.” Voices sounded again in the background. “Darn, I have to go.”
“Wait, Mom. What do you know about the homeless problem, here in South Port?”
“Not much, other than I know Mo works with them tirelessly.” Her mother took a deep breath.
“You can’t talk?”
“That’s right, gotta run. Love you, and see you soon.”
After they hung up, Clary sat for a moment. The conversation had been typical. Her father was blunt, to the point, but no one knew how to finesse a conversation like her mother and Aunt Mo. They were experts at hints and innuendos. She and Sharon used to keep a running tally, as if they were at a tennis match. She laughed a little, remembering a few of those moments.
She stood and checked the calendar on the kitchen wall. There were about eight weeks left before she had to go back to Iowa.
Upstairs, she changed into a white V-neck tee and red shorts. Leefe had promised her a fried chicken dinner with the kids tonight, and she was already salivating. Not only was her body suddenly alive, but so was her appetite. She emptied the bag she’d taken to Leefe’s onto the bed, and a small, sturdy envelope tumbled out. She opened it, shaking out a delicate piece of silver slightly smaller than a fifty cent piece. It was a crane, perched on the end of a tree limb, enclosed in a circle of leaves.
Her eyes hurt with tears, and it was hard to breathe. Don’t do this again, she thought. Don’t have another train wreck. Think this through. Everything she’d fought for in the past months was here. The clear mind, the energy, and the easy laughter. Damned if she was going to mess this up. She slipped the silver crane into her pocket, patted it, and left.
*
Leefe put Jacob down for a nap
and hurried down the stairs to quiet the kids as Beverly walked in the door. Just the person she wanted to see. “Good to see you. I was going to call.”
“Do you have a moment?” Beverly said and switched her bag from one hand to another.
“Of course I do. Nice suit. Is it new?”
“My daughter found it downtown, last spring. I don’t have time to pay attention to clothes, but she makes up for it.” She turned slowly, showing off the gray trouser suit that matched her hair and eyes. It fit her tall frame perfectly.
“I think it suits you, no pun intended. Let me get the kids outside for a new game, something Clary found. It’ll keep them occupied for a while because I need to talk with you.” Leefe leaned past her and called to the kids. The noisy group filed past them, but Devi stopped, wrapping her arms around Leefe’s leg.
Leefe picked her up and led the group outside, trying to tease a smile out of her, but had no luck. When she had her help pound a stake into the ground, Devi finally looked interested and got up to play with the others. Relieved, Leefe went back inside.
Albie was talking to Beverly about Jacob. “His fever’s up again.”
“I listened to the nurses the other day. Take him to the ER,” Beverly said. “I’ll call them right now.”
“We need milk so I’ll go and stop after the doctor sees him,” Albie said to Leefe and headed up the stairs for Jacob.
“Beverly,” Leefe said over her shoulder on the way to the kitchen, “Come with me, and I’ll finish dishes while we talk. Are you here about Devi? I saw Jesse earlier. Devi’s mother’s going to Milwaukee?” She began to put the breakfast silverware away.
“You talked to Jesse? Devi’s mother died this morning, and I’ll bet she hadn’t been told.”
Leefe turned to her, as if she were in slow motion.
Beverly fished a folder out of her messenger bag. “As I mentioned yesterday, we’ve got several options. In a case like this, much like your own, the courts give us more latitude. As long as one parent’s around, we have to tread carefully, but Devi’s father is going to jail, probably for quite a while.”
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