Take a Chance

by D. Jackson Leigh

  After a while, Trip tugged the pillow from her grasp, and Jamie realized her whole body was shaking and her face was wet with tears. Trip hovered over her, her blue eyes full of agony and self-recrimination.

  “Jamie, I didn’t mean to…I would never…did I hurt you?”

  Jamie shook her head to stop Trip’s distress. “No.” Her answer was more of a croak, so she cleared her throat and looked away, embarrassed, before she tried again. She was sure she would have blushed if she wasn’t already flushed from that screaming orgasm. “It’s just been a while, you know? Too busy in the desert, then I was in the hospital, then trying to get resettled—”

  Trip’s finger on her lips stopped her excuses. “Me, too…but we were in the pool and already wet so you didn’t notice what I couldn’t hold back.” She grabbed Jamie’s hand and held it to her lips, which made Jamie want to cry again, then rotated them both to pull the sheets up.

  Jamie reached for her clock and set it for five. She normally woke at four thirty anyway, but her body might take longer to recover after tonight’s activities. She laid her phone on the bedside table, and Trip drew her down for another kiss. Jamie’s sex impossibly pulsed to life again, and she rolled to cover Trip’s long body with her own, pinning Trip on her back.

  “If you keep that up, we might never sleep tonight.” Jamie nipped Trip’s earlobe and slid under the covers to kiss a path down her smooth belly. Her turn for a taste.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jamie’s internal rooster was crowing for her morning run, but her body was arguing that the soft cotton sheets, the pleasant hum of central air, and the warm body at her back was too comfortable a nest to leave just yet. Then light kisses along her neck and fingers lightly stroking her lower belly were persuading her libido that waking up, and rolling onto her back would be an excellent compromise. She smiled. She could compromise. She rolled over and looked up into summer sky eyes.

  “Hi,” Trip said softly.

  “Good morning.”

  Propped on her elbow, Trip dipped her head to place a soft kiss on Jamie’s lips. Her smile widened when she moved back again. “You don’t snore anymore.”

  Jamie barked a laugh and stretched her arms over her head. “The army fixed my deviated septum.”

  Trip cocked her head. “I sort of miss it.”

  Jamie snorted. “Only you. Suz—” Trip’s hand covered her mouth.

  “I don’t want to hear that woman’s name ever again. Nod if you agree.” Trip removed her hand when Jamie nodded.

  Jamie cleared her throat and searched for something different to say. “Stick around. I’m sure I’ll start snoring again by the time I turn sixty. You’ll be snoring, too.” Did she just say that? Insinuated that she’d still be around, that when they were old, they’d…no, no, no. She was not a U-Haul kind of lesbian. One night in bed didn’t mean…Trip hadn’t said, Jamie wasn’t sure—

  “Relax, Jamie. We have all the time in the world to figure this out.” Trip must have realized her panic. Her hand stroking Jamie’s side was likely meant to sooth, but inflamed instead.

  Jamie pushed Trip onto her back and began a little stroking of her own. “How much time do we have?”

  Trip’s chest flushed an attractive pink that traveled upward to color her cheeks. Her eyes glinted in the morning sun. “Not much. You turned off, uh, turned off your alarm…oh, yeah.” Trip opened her legs wider to give Jamie easy access and moved her hands along Jamie’s back, unconsciously conveying the pace she desired from Jamie’s hand. “…because we didn’t go to sleep until three.”

  Jamie groaned when Trip’s fingers found and slipped over her dripping sex. She struggled to form coherent words. “I set my clock for…God, that feels so good.” They each thrust against the other’s fingers, driving themselves to the point of release.

  “Jamie, I can’t hold on.” Trip massaged Jamie’s clit firmer, faster.

  Jamie could feel the pressure gathering in her belly with each stroke…almost, almost. “Yes, come with me. Come with me now.”

  Trip’s body bowed a split second before hers, and Jamie collapsed on top of Trip when the orgasm released its grip. They both panted while their hearts slowed.

  Jamie rested her head between Trip’s breasts. “Better than a morning run,” she told the erect nipple that filled her vision.

  “That’s good. Because we don’t have time for one,” the nipple’s owner answered lazily.

  Oh, yeah. They’d been talking about time when they got sidetracked. “What time is it?”

  “Seven. If we’re not downstairs in thirty minutes, Essie will be up here dragging us out of bed whether we’re naked or dressed.”

  Jamie pushed up from where she’d been listening to the steady thump of Trip’s heart. “You didn’t lock the door?”

  “Wouldn’t matter if I did. She has keys to every room in the house.” Trip sat up, planted a quick kiss on Jamie’s lips, and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Come on. Shower with me. I promise to be good. You don’t want to miss the Essie show this morning.”

  * * *

  Trip couldn’t resist helping Jamie wash her hair and soap that gorgeous body, but she kept to her promise, and her touches were as chaste as was humanly possible. Even though it did sorely test her resolve. In the end, it was worth her restraint. Essie was in rare form.

  Trip settled in her usual chair at the end of the kitchen table with her back to the patio door and indicated for Jamie to sit on her left so she’d have full view of Essie’s performance. Amani, the niece who managed the house now, was cracking eggs into a blender while keeping an eye on sausage links and bacon sizzling in a cast iron skillet.

  “What are you doing here on a Sunday?” Trip grabbed the Sunday newspaper that was still folded on the table and began sorting the sections.

  “Girl, Jerome called me first thing this morning to tell me Aunt Essie was up at daybreak, buzzing around like a bee and talking nonstop to some little dog that was following her around.” Amani flashed a huge smile of perfect white teeth, but kept her voice low.

  Trip kept the comics for herself and handed Jamie the news and sports sections. “Put that news section in your chair and sit on it. We don’t let Essie see the front page before church unless you want a sermon with your breakfast.”

  Amani shook her head to confirm nobody would want the aforementioned sermon, then continued. “Jerome said, ‘Amani, she won’t let me in the house. You need to come on over and get a front row seat.’ He’s promised to hang my new porch swing if I report back.”

  Jamie flinched, but Trip grinned at the sudden repeated slamming of cabinet and appliance doors in the adjoining laundry room.

  “I swear, you’d think a band of gypsies camped in our yard last night. Clothes everywhere. I pick up one thing and I see another,” Essie fussed into the kitchen without acknowledging Trip or Jamie. “A pair of shorts here, a shoe there.” She checked the skillet.

  “I just turned those,” Amani said. “I’m about to pour the omelets.” She added egg whites from a carton into the blender.

  “If you don’t know how to separate fresh egg whites—”

  Amani pushed a button on the blender, drowning out the rest of her aunt’s complaint. “I’m not going to throw away good yolks, Aunt Essie,” Amani said when she switched the blender off. She looked over her shoulder and winked at Trip and Jamie. “Besides, the gypsies can’t tell the difference.”

  Essie threw her hands up. “You’re right about that. Act like they was raised in a barnyard. Clothes flung from here to Atlanta.” She finally looked their way, glaring at Trip. “Don’t think I didn’t recognize those unmentionables hanging from the diving board. I had to call Jerome over from the barn to crawl out and retrieve ’em. Just cause they call them bloomers doesn’t mean a lady should plant them outside for everybody to see.”

  “Trip wouldn’t let me—”

  Trip cut Jamie off. “I’d like one of your pecan waffles with strawberries and whip
ped cream.”

  Essie picked up the remaining sections of the newspaper and slapped Trip on the head. “You want a short-order cook, you go on down to the diner and sit at Bud’s counter. In my kitchen, you eat what I cook for you.”

  Jamie frowned at Trip. “I’m sure whatever—”

  “But I told Jamie that nobody cooks waffles like you. And I had Toby pick some strawberries especially for you. I put them in the fridge yesterday.”

  Essie considered this, then went to the huge refrigerator and took out a bowl of huge red strawberries. She bit into one and nodded, then placed the bowl on the counter. “Get my flour down, Amani.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Amani flashed another smile at Trip and began pulling ingredients from the cabinets for her slight, stooped-back aunt.

  Essie walked back to the table and reached across to pat Jamie’s hand. “Don’t mind me, honey. If I didn’t fuss at that wild child sitting next to you, she’d think I didn’t love her anymore.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m Jamie.”

  Essie smiled. “I know who you are, honey. You and your cute little dog are always welcome.”

  “Uh, where is P exactly? We have to be at work by ten.”

  “She’s in the barn with my grandson, Jerome.” Essie turned back to the kitchen counter and began measuring out ingredients when Amani slid two plates laden with neat omelets, sausage, and bacon in front of Trip and Jamie. “You’ve got time to enjoy your breakfast. He’ll be back with her soon, so I guess I’d better make a waffle for him, too.”

  Jerome did appear as if conjured at the very moment they finished their omelets. Petunia was at his heels but ran to plant her feet against Jamie’s leg, her tongue lolling from her mouth and tail wagging. “Hey, P. Have you been having fun?”

  Petunia replied with a sharp yip. Happy was written all over her little doggy face.

  “She caught a mouse in the feed room,” Jerome said.

  “She didn’t eat it, did she?” Jamie asked. “Because she’s on a very strict special diet.”

  “Funny about that,” Jerome said. “I know a lot of horse people who keep terriers because they’re better than cats at catching mice. Cats are lazy and only hunt when they feel like it. Most terriers gobble down what they catch, but Petunia brought it to me after she killed it.”

  “Special diet?” Essie asked. “Is that because she’s a police dog?”

  “No,” Trip said. “Petunia has some stomach issues.” She put down her fork and folded her fingers around Jamie’s hand that rested on the table. “She had surgery a couple of weeks ago to fix it, but some of her symptoms seem to be returning.”

  Essie nodded. “Trip will fix her up. She might be my wild child, but she’s a right smart one.”

  Amani placed beautifully arranged Belgian waffles, piled with plump strawberries and whipped cream, in front of Trip and Jamie. Essie brought two more for her and Jerome, then Amani returned with one for herself. The waffles were gone so fast, there was little time for small talk, and Essie rose to put her dish in the sink.

  “I’ll slip on my dress and get my hat, then Jerome and I can go so he’ll have time to get dressed. Amani?”

  “My dress is in your room. I brought it so I’d have time to clean up and go to services from here.”

  Essie nodded and toddled off toward her suite of rooms. She barely rounded the corner when Jerome and Amani scooted down to huddle at Trip and Jamie’s end of the table.

  “Damn, girl. I haven’t seen Granny that happy since the day I announced her first great-grandchild was on the way,” Jerome said, poking Trip’s shoulder. “She could have preached today’s sermon when she spied your drawers hanging from the diving board.”

  Trip grinned and glanced at Jamie, who wasn’t smiling. She was silently staring down at the table. She realized Jamie hadn’t said much throughout the meal. Stupid, stupid. She’d screwed up again. She’d talked about Jamie so much, she already felt like part of the family here. Only she’d forgotten that Jamie never had a real family and didn’t know how to interpret Essie’s fussing, and Jerome and Amani barging in on their morning-after. What an idiot. She should have planned a private morning for them.

  Trip glanced at the clock. She’d run out of time. “I guess you and P better get going if you’re going to have time to get changed and make it to the station by ten.” She wished Jamie didn’t have to leave, that she could have the rest of the day to make up for this blunder.

  Jerome was still laughing, but Amani was studying Jamie. She laid a hand on Jerome’s arm to silence him. “You’ve been very quiet, Jamie, and I’m afraid we’ve offended you by barging in on your private time.”

  Jamie didn’t look up. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to having people…this is kind of different for me.” She glared at Trip. “I don’t leave my clothes for someone else to pick up and launder.” She ducked her head and stared at her plate again. “Breakfast was delicious, but I’m not used to having someone come in and cook for me. I take care of myself.”

  This was worse than Trip thought. Jamie’s impression was completely wrong. “Jamie, no. It’s not like that.”

  “Would you even be able to manage if you didn’t have money to hire people to take care of you?”

  Jerome shook his head. “Nope. If it doesn’t go on the grill, she can’t cook it. The woman can’t even pop popcorn.”

  “I only burned that one bag.”

  Amani shot Trip a “for real?” look. “He’s right. Her cabinets would be empty and laundry stacked clear to the ceiling.”

  “Quit, you guys. This is serious.” She grabbed Jamie’s hand again. “They’re ribbing me because they’re being bad, nosy siblings this morning.”

  Amani closed her hand over Jamie’s other hand. “She’s telling the truth, Jamie. We should apologize. Here’s the truth. Trip was overwhelmed when her grandfather died and left her this place. She left a good position in Atlanta and came home to start a practice here, mostly because this is the only house Aunt Essie has ever lived in since she was twelve years old and her mama came to work for the Beaumonts.”

  Jerome nodded. “It was clear right off that she couldn’t manage the farm and her practice, so we worked out a deal. I negotiated a really good contract to manage the farm for my best childhood friend.”

  Trip bumped fists with Jerome. “And Amani isn’t my housekeeper. Essie thinks she is, but Amani owns several companies that provide a range of cleaning, rental management, and maintenance services for businesses and households.”

  “I mostly do just enough around here to keep an eye on Aunt Essie and stop her from doing too much, but several of my employees do most of the real work.” She gave Jamie’s hand a shake. “Trip wouldn’t let you pick up those clothes because picking up after Trip and swatting her with the newspaper is what keeps that old woman’s heart chugging along. When she saw those clothes strewn across the lawn, she was like a kid at Christmas.”

  Jerome nodded and laughed again, then glanced at the doorway to make sure Essie wasn’t standing there. “I wish I’d had my phone so I could’ve made a video.”

  A door closed in another part of the house, and Amani began to gather the rest of the plates. “I hope we haven’t scared you off. Please, accept our apology.”

  Jamie shook her head and smiled. “No, you haven’t. Thank you again for breakfast, but I really have to go.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Trip stood. “I’ll come back and help with the dishes.”

  “You better,” Amani said. “I don’t want to be late to church.”

  Trip walked Jamie to her truck parked by the barn. She was relieved that Jerome was parked by the front door, so he’d take Essie out that way and she could have a moment alone with Jamie.

  Jamie hoisted Petunia into the truck and climbed in, but lowered the window.

  “I just can’t seem to stop screwing things up with you,” Trip said, bracing her forearms against Jamie’s door so their faces are close together. “I should have
gone downstairs and brought something up for a private breakfast on the balcony outside my room. Something romantic.”

  “It’s okay,” Jamie said. “I need to learn to stop being so prickly.” She looked into Trip’s eyes. “This is hard for me, too. I’ve always been on my own, and you’re surrounded by people who love you.”

  “That’s true, but there’s still a missing piece in my life. A big one, and I think that piece might be you.”

  “What if it’s not?”

  “I want to find out. I’ll try to do a better job of showing you that we’re the right fit.”

  “Then I’ll try to be less prickly…as long as I can get a rain check on that balcony deal.”

  “Absolutely.” Trip cupped Jamie’s face and kissed her with every ounce of hope in her heart.

  * * *

  Trip bit into her thick burger and hummed her satisfaction while she chewed. After Amani left for church, Trip had tried to update some files for the clinic, but her thoughts kept straying back to the night before—Jamie hovering over her, Jamie under her, Jamie curled around her. So, she was contemplating saddling her favorite gelding for a long ride to fill the hours until Jamie finished her work shift when Grace called with an invitation to grill burgers at her place. The B and B was exactly where Jamie would go to change when she got off shift, and Trip would be waiting for her. Everything felt perfect until Dani showed up and introduced a nervous tension into their casual cookout.

  “Sorry I haven’t been around the last couple of days. Hope I didn’t leave you in trouble at the clinic, Trip.” Dani toyed with her fork. “I had business back in Baltimore.”