And it would be so very easy to just turn and let Carla do everything that those sinful eyes had promised for so long.
If only she weren’t so worried about the part that came after the kisses.
Finally, Carla pulled her back until she was resting against him. It was heavenly.
There was something new and comforting about being held instead of being the one who was doing the holding. Like Carla was strong enough for both of them.
And, secretly, Charlie liked the way he positioned her where he wanted her. It probably wasn’t supposed to be sexual, but every inch of Charlie’s skin was so attuned to Carla that she couldn’t help but want more. More touch. More care. More feeling like she was the most important person in Carla’s world.
Carla rubbed one firm hand down her arm, pulling her in tighter. When he spoke, his voice was a low rumble, more felt than heard. “I’ve been dreaming of holding you like this, you know.”
“Really?” The idea sent a nervous shiver through her, even though he’d said it before. It just seemed unimaginable.
“For a very long time.”
Warmth filled her chest at the thought. Everyone else she’d been with had taken one look at her, noticed more or less that she was butch, and made a move. Or, rather, made the first move and then expected her to make all of the moves afterward.
With Carla it was different. Maybe it was just the knowledge that Carla was a Dom, which meant that she didn’t have to take control.
Or maybe it was the past five years. All of the times they’d laughed together. The hope that if Carla was going to get bored or annoyed with her, surely it should have happened all ready.
Instead, Carla had just kept coming back, with his easy smile and shining eyes, filling her world with color. Carla knew her and he wanted her.
Or at least he knew her as much as she had shared.
For the first time, she realized that she wanted to share. Maybe it was foolish, but she wanted to trust Carla enough to take a chance. She didn’t know what all of this was supposed to look like or how it would work, but his confidence buoyed her.
She closed her eyes and let herself sink into his shoulder. Maybe with her eyes closed, it would be easier.
Carla whispered against her temple. “I could hold you like this all night. If you want to talk, I want to listen. If you want more, I would enjoy that, too. And if you just want to be here with me, I would still feel honored.”
She wasn’t sure how he always knew how to say, but somehow that was what she’d needed to hear. She didn’t have to talk. She didn’t have to do anything. Which meant that maybe she could.
She knew that Carla was a therapist. That he worked with kids who were going through all sorts of shit every day. Shit way worse than whatever she’d had to deal with. But being held and caressed like this didn’t feel like anything like the couple of times she’d tried out a therapy session.
There was something about Carla that was soothing. Something that made her want to open herself up and share all of the memories that were zipped and sewn and locked up inside her.
With her eyes closed, the world was dark and cozy. And by some miracle, the sexiest damn person she knew seemed to think he wanted her, too.
“Um, talk?” she finally asked. “Is that OK?”
“That’s perfect. I want to know everything about you, whenever you want to share.” He kissed her hair and it felt like a gift.
She intended to keep things factual, just stick to the basics. But that wasn’t what came spilling out.
“I grew up on a farm,” she heard herself saying. “I was the oldest of five.” She hadn’t thought of them in a while. Her siblings mostly lived in different states and had their own lives. It had been a long time since she had family around her.
“What was it like growing up there?” Carla rubbed his thumb over her hand and Charlie soaked up the affection and support, her skin still tingling everywhere they touched.
“It was hard work, but I liked it. I loved my family. I knew I didn’t want a husband, but there were women there who lived alone. I thought I could do it.”
Carla nodded encouragingly, a gentle motion against her hair.
“And then… Lacey came. Her family bought the farm next door, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. She had me wrapped around her little finger, and when she asked me to run away with her, I did.”
A picture opened in her mind. Lacey posing in that yellow dress, sitting on the fence between their properties and knowing that Charlie was watching her. Lacey making up some excuse to draw Charlie closer. Charlie, helpless to do anything but obey. Befuddled and terrified and happier than she’d ever been in her life when Lacey stroked a hand down her cheek.
She hadn’t known it was possible for two women to like each other. She’d been shocked when Lacey had kissed her on the lips a few days later. When she’d taken off her shirt in the hay loft and placed Charlie’s calloused hands on her breasts, Charlie had almost fainted from the sheer pleasure and impossibility of the touch.
Every memory had that same tingling mixture of fear and delight. Charlie would have been happy with just that, just knowing that someone in the world wanted her touch on their body. But Lacey always wanted more.
Charlie breathed in the subtle scent of Carla’s skin and tried to pick up the story. “I was nineteen years old, fresh out of high school, and no skills to my name. We both worked shit jobs for years, but I was willing to put in the hours as long as she was happy.”
And they had been happy, those first few years. At least Charlie had thought so. She’d felt so confident and adult, like she had a family she could provide for. She’d been so proud the day they moved out of a tiny apartment into a two-bedroom house that was hardly bigger. Buying a washing machine was a sign that she had finally made it.
She’d come home every night looking forward to pulling Lacey into her arms, all soft skin and teased hair and pretty underthings. Even when Lacey was distracted and bored. Even when Lacey came home late and didn’t bother to tell her. Even when the spark slowly left Lacey’s eyes, Charlie had still looked forward to seeing her every day.
“We told people we were roommates,” she said bitterly. “Which was the safe thing to do at the time. When she was at work, she told everyone about her husband, Charles, and how he worked long hours and couldn’t meet them. I told everyone I was single. Ten years together and then she just… left me. Told me she needed a ‘real man’ and walked out the door.”
Carla didn’t speak, but he pressed another a kiss into her hair. She hadn’t realized how much she needed those casual touches. Even without words, she knew what he was thinking. He would never expect her to hide. He would never keep her hidden.
“We never even went out dancing.” Now that the words were flowing, they came out faster. “We didn’t have any friends in common. We used to drive two towns over just to go out for a beer. We even went to separate churches, when I bothered to go, because I didn’t want her to lose her job. She always wanted something better for herself, and I used to think that was something to admire, you know? Like she had goals and a vision. What she really wanted was a rich husband she could take to church.”
She’d seen them everywhere together after that. Lacey looking relaxed and satisfied with another man’s arms around her. Lacey pregnant and glowing. When they’d bumped into each other, Lacey told Charlie she’d found a “real man” to be the father of her children. Someone who could be a “real dad.”
“And give her babies,” Charlie finally added.
“Did you want children?”
“I… I didn’t even think of it.” It was true, at the time. Until she’d seen Lacey’s round belly and realized what she could never have.
Carla flipped her hand over and wove their fingers together. Charlie stared at their intertwined digits. This was how lovers touched each other. It felt warm and soothing, but also like so much more. She let the feeling seep into her skin. It was almost
like a promise.
“I think you would be an amazing parent, by the way.” Carla spoke as if it were a given. Which, she supposed, it would be now. If she were younger. And less broken. “I’ve heard a lot of folks talk about you that way. They call you Papa Charlie sometimes.”
Charlie felt her cheeks warm. She hadn’t thought of herself that way. Some of her employees and regulars were really close to her heart, though. Even when they eventually moved away, she still called them. She couldn’t believe they called her that, and it was almost enough to float her through the next part.
“Is that why you opened Whirlwind?”
“Eventually. It took me years to get there. After Lacey, I went back to my parents and found out my father had passed on.” Heat stung her eyes. If she hadn’t planned to talk much about her ex, she hadn’t meant to mention this at all.
“My mother was still holding the farm together, and she… she said she’d already known about me and Lacey. That I didn’t have to run away.” She swallowed harshly before any other sound could escape her mouth.
She still wasn’t sure what had hurt most that week, Lacey’s abandonment or the knowledge that she’d done even worse to her family. Her siblings had all grown up without her. Three of them had moved away. The youngest two only barely remembered her, this stranger who was supposed to be related to them. She was irrelevant to their teenaged lives. Maybe she’d tell Carla about her family one day, but it was farther than she could go right now.
She’d already told Carla more than she’d told anyone else.
She didn’t want to sit with that thought, though, so she pushed on. “I lived back at home for a few years, working the farm and bartending at the one bar in town. It wasn’t so easy, though, going back to being single after a decade with a partner. I used to go to Little Rock or Memphis sometimes. It was maybe a four-hour drive, but there were queer spaces there if you knew where to look for them. People’s houses if you had an invitation. Bars, sometimes, with a separate room in the back or a special night of the week. They always closed down after a couple of years, but somewhere new would always open.
“I never picked anyone up,” she continued. “I would have been too scared of making the wrong assumption. I’d just sit there, looking like I always do, and if a woman noticed me, I’d go home with her.”
“So you always ended up dating femmes?”
Charlie nodded. “I didn’t think I had a choice.” Even among lesbian couples, it was all she’d ever seen back then.
Carla lifted her hand and brushed a kiss over the knuckles. It was tender, but shockingly arousing. Those soft lips just brushing against her skin, showing wordlessly what she could have if she had the courage to reach for it.
And yet Carla wasn’t initiating anything. Just listening and giving her the time to filter through all of it. When the quiet stretched between them, Carla finally asked, “So how did Whirlwind start?”
“My mother got married again and her husband hated the farm. My siblings didn’t want to keep it, I couldn’t manage on my own, and there wasn’t anywhere else for me to go. When she sold it off, though, she said that the profits belonged as much to her children as to her, even though I hadn’t been there for a decade.” Charlie blinked again, clearing the dampness from her eyes. She was not going to cry.
“It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make a down payment and take out a loan. I knew how to bartend, and I wanted a place where I could be myself and date who I wanted. I wanted to make that space for everyone who didn’t have it. That’s why I didn’t go to New York or L.A. I wanted a city big enough to support a queer bar, but small enough to be a resource for folks who might be driving 4 hours from out in the sticks. Folks who couldn’t make it to the bigger cities or maybe didn’t want to.”
Carla turned Charlie’s palm over and traced the lines across it. It felt like a kiss, intimate and sweet. “You did exactly that. You know, I even tell my high schoolers about Whirlwind, let them know that it’s waiting for them if they can get through a couple more years.”
“Really? Charlie turned the thought over in her mind, welcoming the distraction. “We have trouble with minors trying to sneak in to buy booze, but I never thought… I mean, young kids come in with their parents. But maybe we could have some teen events? Let them in to hang out and eat, and just card people when they order.” She was already starting to get ideas.
Carla pulled Charlie away just enough that they could see each other. His smile was glorious, and Charlie had put it there. “Would you? That would be amazing. Even if it’s early in the afternoon, they just need a place to go and be themselves.” His enthusiasm sparkled. It was just so visible how much his students meant to him, and she felt an answering glow.
It was just one more thing that made him perfect.
“Yeah, that’s um… would you help with that?” She wasn’t sure why she felt shy asking, since he knew what his answer would be. It was just that it would mean seeing more of him, having him around more in her space, working on something powerful and personal together.
Another hope that she couldn’t allow to get too far ahead of itself.
Carla squeezed her hand. “I would be honored. You know I’m there every day anyway.”
“I don’t see why,” Carla grumbled. She could clearly see his interest now, but she still wasn’t quite ready to claim it. She didn’t want to curse things. And there was more that she still had to share.
“Because you’re strong and sexy and caring. Because I think there’s something between us. Because kissing you took my breath away and made me greedy for more. And finally, because you opened Whirlwind to be able to date who you wanted to date, and I don’t think you’ve done that yet.”
“I…” God, he was frank. Was all of that true? He seemed so earnest.
Thinking about who she wanted to date… She certainly hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Lacey. She’d had one-night stands when she was young. But it was always too complicated and sooner or later, she couldn’t give her partners what they wanted. It had been a decade since she’d even tried.
She wasn’t sure that it would be any different now. She hadn’t changed.
Could she admit that she imagined strong arms wrapped around her? That she wanted someone who was firm and in control, when she’d fought so hard to be strong herself? Who would she even be?
“I don’t think this is going to work.” She hated to do it, but she pulled away from Carla’s arms.
Chapter 4
Carla
Carla opened his arms when Charlie started to pull away. But she looked so morose that he didn’t hesitate to pull her back in.
There was a huge difference between I’m not interested and I don’t think this is going to work. He would just have to show her that it could.
The loose folds of her flannel bunched up, but didn’t stop him from feeling the warmth of her skin beneath. Every muscle in her body was tight, but she still pressed back into his hands. He ached to massage those muscular shoulders and cover her in kisses. To worship her body every day until she knew that she was enough.
He wondered if she’d told that story to anyone else. It seemed like a dam breaking loose. There was so much hurt and shame that Charlie was carrying around, and he never would have known.
He could tell that there was much more to it. Long gaps filled with whatever she wasn’t yet ready to say.
He traced gentle patterns over her back, giving her the silence she needed until she was ready to open up. Just watching her turn things over in her head and waiting felt like it was hard work.
When she was quiet for a long while, he took a gamble. He let go of her hand and cupped her cheek. Sometimes showing was better than telling.
She let him turn her face up toward him, but didn’t press closer. She was clearly at war within.
“You shouldn’t… We’re not…”
Carla waited patiently, keeping his expression open and relaxed. He worked with high schoolers
all day, many of whom were handling difficult family situations in addition to the usual drama of puberty, so there probably wasn’t much that Charlie could throw at him that would make him break his calm.
Charlie seemed to have run out of words, her mouth slightly open. But since they were already so close, he would barely have to lean in to brush a kiss over her soft, slightly chapped lips.
“I shouldn’t what because were not what?” he prompted gently.
Charlie blew out a breath and looked away. “You shouldn’t touch me like that because we’re not… we’re not right, um, together.”
“I think we’re extraordinarily right together. Tell me what you’re worried about.” Dozens of thoughts raced through his head. She could be asexual. She could be recovering from abuse or trauma. There were any number of things that could be holding her back, but he was pretty confident he could work with all of them. She was the one he wanted.
Slowly, he tugged her toward him, giving her plenty of time to react or pull away. Her eyes were wide as they flicked over his face with that curious mix of fear and desire.
He brushed a light kiss over her lips, but that wasn’t his destination.
He pulled her against his shoulder, her tense muscles resisting even as her body shifted toward him. “Breathe,” he murmured. After a long moment she did, relaxing into him on the exhale.
He loved how she was just a bit taller and thicker than he was, how his arm only barely spanned her wide shoulders. It made him feel powerful when she finally gave him the weight of her body and her fears.
He lifted his other hand and traced it along the soft line of her jaw. She trembled beneath his fingers, but her eyes closed in trust. Delicious.
“You feel just right to me,” he finally whispered.
She shook her head in disagreement while nuzzling further into his chest.
“Can you tell me about it?” He stroked her buzzed-short hair, shot through with grey, and the curve of her ear. Even with most of his attention on her words, he was still marveling that he, at last, could touch her.
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