Smoke and Fire

by Julie Cannon

  “What about?” the woman asked, without the slightest hesitation or concern for propriety.

  Nicole smiled politely. “Well, please forgive my rudeness, ma’am, but that’s between Brady and me.”

  “You’re the one,” the woman said, pointing her arthritic finger at Nicole.

  “Excuse me?” Nicole said, confused.

  “You.” This time the woman’s hand shook with the force of her word. “You’re the one that has her all discombobulated. She hasn’t been right since she came home last time. She prowls around her place all hours of the night, doesn’t go out anymore, and just sits on the patio and stares into space. She wastes the food I bring her and pretends she’s eating it.”

  “And I’ve done all that…how…” Nicole asked carefully.

  “By not doing what you were supposed to do. Not doing what she wanted you to. Hell, for all I know she declared her love and you didn’t say it back. How in the hell do I know?” She moved closer until her finger was poking Nicole’s chest. “But what I do know is that you hurt that girl, and she don’t deserve to be hurt.”

  “I’m sorry you think that way…Mrs…” God, what was her name? “Mrs. C.”

  “How do you know my name?” the woman asked, taking a quick step backward.

  “Brady told me.” Mrs. C looked skeptical and said as much. “She told me. She talked about you and your husband. She painted your house.” When Mrs. C nodded, Nicole continued. “Oh, and you’re the neighborhood busybody.”

  “She didn’t call me that.” Mrs. C frowned.

  “I never called her that.” Brady’s voice echoed the words.

  Nicole swung her gaze to the left, and walking toward her was the most wonderful woman in the world and she hoped she wasn’t too late.

  Nicole laughed and winked at the old lady. “You’re right, Mrs. C. She didn’t call you that. Several other wonderful and endearing things, but not that.”

  “Brady, get this awful woman whose only manners are to be disrespectful to an old lady off my grass. Shoo, now go. Both of you. I’ve got better things to do than to referee your lovers’ quarrel.” And with that, Mrs. C calmly walked into the house, her cane tapping on the stone sidewalk.

  “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

  My God, Brady looked good. Her hair was shorter and very becoming. She was wearing a dark-green, short-sleeve T-shirt with a female fisherman on the front and baggy cargo shorts. Her feet were bare, and she was the sexiest woman Nicole had ever seen.

  “That’s what Mrs. C asked. She’s pretty protective of you, you know.” Nicole’s nerves were kicking up again.

  “The feeling’s mutual,” Brady replied, not moving any closer from where she’d stopped a few feet away.

  Now she was really nervous. “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “Flick’s report said you were sent home.” Nicole studied Brady from head to toe, looking for anything amiss. “Are you okay?”

  “Flick reported it?” Brady practically spat out the words.

  “He’s required to.”

  “And you came here to what? Check up on me? See if I’m screwing the company out of time? Well, I’m not. It wasn’t my idea to leave, and for the record, I hate it.” Brady was angry.

  “Brady, no, that’s not it at all. I was just concerned…worried…afraid you were hurt.” Nicole sputtered. She didn’t understand why Brady was so defensive.

  “Well, as you can see,” Brady turned in a complete circle, showing Nicole she was in fact not injured, “I’m fine.” She held her position, feet wide, arms extended out from her sides.

  Brady wasn’t making this easy. But why should she? Nicole had practically thrown her out of her office. She swallowed and looked around. The front yard was immaculately mowed and trimmed, and she suspected it was Brady’s doing. A swing hung on the porch, but this conversation was not meant to be overheard.

  “Is there someplace we can talk?” Nicole held her breath while Brady contemplated her answer. Please say yes. Please give me a chance.

  Brady dropped her arms and studied her. Her dark eyes were hard, and Nicole felt like she was being probed. She forced herself to stand still while Brady made a decision.

  “We can go upstairs,” Brady replied, indicating the direction of the stairs. “It’s a little cooler than out here.”

  Nicole agreed and somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other and follow Brady across the brick path toward the stairs. Jasmine clung to the trellis on her right, the sweet scent of new buds tickling her nose. Large pots of daisies and hibiscus framed the bottom of the stairs.

  Once inside Brady motioned for Nicole to sit. “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you, I’m fine.” Actually Nicole thought she’d probably choke if she tried to drink something, her throat was so dry.

  She sat there for several minutes, too nervous to notice the interior of Brady’s apartment. Brady was in no hurry to talk, which wasn’t surprising, since she’d more than likely said everything there was to say in her office.

  Suddenly Nicole was tongue-tied. She had so much to say she didn’t know where to begin. Should she start with the moment she realized Brady was right? How about that she used to be strong and didn’t like the woman she’d turned into? Should it be when she decided to take back control of her life? Or that Brady had given her the strength to take it back? Then there was that little thing about how crazy she was about Brady. How much she wanted her in her life.

  “You were right,” Nicole said, needing to stand and move around. “I was a coward. I hid behind my scars to keep from getting hurt again. But I’m tired. Tired of fighting to be something I’m not. I hide the fact that I’m falling apart behind appearing totally put together. I have nightmares and panic attacks, and I sleep with every light on in the house. I hadn’t been anywhere near a job site in six years. I can barely get on an airplane and can’t even enjoy a fucking campfire and toast marshmallows.”

  Nicole stopped in front of Brady. “And do you know how many people know any of those things? Just one of them?” She held up her hand, the tip of her thumb and first finger coming together to make a zero, emphasizing her point. “No one. Not one person knows even one of those things.” She paced a few laps and stopped in front of Brady again.

  “And then there’s you. Brady Stewart, a woman who could have any woman she wants. A woman who’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Who takes my breath away, makes me crazy, and turns me into a jumbled mess of nerves. The one who gives me the strength to be who I am. The only one.”

  Brady’s eyes were dark, almost black. Nicole knew that look and her shattered nerves calmed. “I can’t fight this anymore. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten what I was even fighting for.”

  Nicole paused. This was it. The moment for which there was no turning back. “I’m not afraid anymore.” She unclenched her hands and reached for the top button of her shirt.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  “No,” Nicole said firmly. Brady dropped her hands and stepped back. She had stood and moved to her the instant Nicole’s intent was clear.

  “I have to do this myself.” Nicole was adamant that she would be the one to share all of herself with Brady. She had to remove every piece of camouflage, every cover-up, disguise, and smoke screen. She trusted Brady like no one ever before. Brady wouldn’t look away in disgust. Brady wouldn’t recoil at the texture of her skin. Brady would never tell her no.

  After days of shaking, Nicole’s hands were steady as they moved from one button to the next, Brady’s eyes fixed on her movements. She pulled first one arm, then the other, from her shirt and dropped it to the floor. Her nipples hardened under her thin T-shirt. Brady saw it too.

  She slid her belt through the loops on her pants, the pewter tip on the end clicking lightly on the buckle, drawing Brady’s attention. Brady’s jaw slackened, and she wasn’t sure if her reaction gave her confidence or made her more self-conscious. Brady’s eyes w
ere glued to her zipper as Nicole lowered it, then dropped her pants to the floor.

  Slowly Brady’s eyes traveled up from the top of her feet to the place covered only by her lace panties. Her expression never changed and her gaze never lingered over the scar just above her left knee or the pale, puckered skin on her right thigh.

  Taking a deep breath of courage, Nicole pulled her T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor on top of her pants. The final piece of clothing quickly followed, and for the first time in six years she was standing naked in front of a woman. Only one item remained before her entire being was bared to Brady. Her hands steady, she reached up and removed her wig.

  This was about more than being naked, more than exposing her damaged body to Brady. Her vulnerability to rejection was her Achilles’s heel. If Brady trusted her enough to risk her goals and everything she’d worked for, then Nicole owed it to her to do the same.

  “You are absolutely beautiful,” Brady said, her voice barely above a whisper. Brady hadn’t moved but her eyes were everywhere, finally settling on Nicole’s. “Beautiful.”

  Brady stepped closer, the flame in her eyes burning brighter. Nicole believed her this time and her confidence soared. Her legs were steady as she closed the remaining distance between them. The scent of sweat and Brady filled her, and she slowly kissed her waiting lips. She wanted to go slow, savor every minute. But the instant their lips met she needed to feel Brady’s hands on her, her mouth on her breasts, Brady’s arms around her when she came.

  With little patience Nicole pulled Brady’s shirt from her waistband and slid her hands over the smooth, hard body that had tormented her memory for weeks. Brady inhaled sharply, wrapping her arms tight around her neck. Nicole quickly managed to get Brady’s pants on the floor and her shirt on top of that. When their bodies touched Nicole reveled in the sensation.

  She dragged her mouth away from Brady’s hot lips. “Is there a bedroom in this place?”

  Brady grinned, took her hand, and led the way.

  Brady pulled back the covers on the small bed. Nicole slid in, pulling Brady with her. The weight of Brady’s body as she shifted over her took her breath away. Brady moved against her, and Nicole slid her leg between Brady’s. She was wet and Brady’s thigh slid easily. Nicole was on the verge of coming.

  “Touch me,” Nicole said. “Please, I need you to touch me.” She didn’t care if she sounded like she was begging. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the wonderful, marvelous way Brady was making her feel.

  Brady kissed her chin and neck, and between her breasts. Her hand traveled up and down Nicole’s side and stomach, drifting closer to her clit with every stroke. Nicole arched instinctively and Brady continued her exploration. Warm lips circled one nipple, and when Brady started to suck, Nicole came hard. She pulled Brady’s lips closer as she cried out over and over.

  Brady’s hand slid between them and glided into her like air. Nicole cried out again, this time not from orgasm but from the sheer joy of pleasure. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to feel this way, and in this very moment she vowed to never let something as trivial as her body stand in the way of intimacy again.

  Brady shifted and worked her way down Nicole’s body, kissing and biting her stomach, abdomen, the inside of her thighs. She didn’t push Nicole’s thighs apart but simply looked up at her as if asking permission. In that instant Nicole knew she had fallen absolutely crazy in love with Brady Stewart.

  “Brady.” Nicole met her gaze. “Take me to that place I thought I’d never find.”

  When Brady lowered her head Nicole knew nothing other than the sensation of Brady’s lips and tongue. Her orgasm rocked her to her core, left her breathless, blinded her with flashing light. Wave after wave rolled through Nicole until she thought she might die from the experience.

  As her climax began to recede Brady released her and quickly gathered her into her arms. Brady tightened her hold as Nicole shuddered with aftershocks of the most powerful orgasm of her life.

  The need to touch Brady far exceeded the need to sleep, and Nicole pulled herself up and on top of Brady. She was determined to do to Brady what she’d just done to her. She wanted to feel Brady squirm under her fingertips, arch into her kisses, and come for her. And only her.

  Nicole was alive, genuinely alive. The previous times they were together like this she’d felt desire, lust, and arousal. But there was absolutely no comparison to this, right now, this moment.

  Nicole kissed a long, ragged pale scar on Brady’s upper arm. She asked about it, and when Brady told her that her mother had backhanded her so hard she fell against the jagged metal edge of the kitchen table, her heart ached for the pain Brady must have endured in her childhood. When she asked about a larger scar, this one on her shoulder Brady just said, “Don’t ask.”

  They laughed when Brady told her the story about the tattoo of the blue marlin Nicole had found the very first time they were together and their mutual love for deep-sea fishing.

  “Why do you have such a small bed?”

  “It’s all I need,” Brady responded, nuzzling her neck. Nicole shivered from the sensation.

  “With all the women passing through your life I’d have thought you’d have a bigger one.”

  Brady stopped her tasting and looked at her. Her eyes were serious and matched the expression on her face. “I’ve never brought anyone here.”

  “Never?” Nicole asked, incredulous.

  “Never. That would make it personal. And it was never personal. Until now. You are personal.”

  Nicole didn’t know what to say. Brady had made love to her with a fervor Nicole had never experienced. She’d touched and kissed every inch of her body without hesitation. She’d made her laugh, made her crazy with desire, and made her cry with release. She’d made her feel whole.

  Nicole needed to kiss her. To disappear in their kisses again, their bodies intertwined like nature had intended. But she had something more important to do. Straddling Brady’s hips Nicole sat and pulled Brady up with her.

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked, holding Brady’s hands in hers.

  “Spending it with you.”

  “And the day after that?”

  “I’m not sure,” Brady answered, some trepidation in her voice. “Why? Do you have something in mind?”

  “Yes,” Nicole said, her voice both quavering with love and solid in conviction. “I want to spend tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that with you. I love you, Brady Stewart, and at the risk of sounding unoriginal, I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you.”

  “Well,” Brady said, twisting so that Nicole was beneath her. “If you put it that way, how can I say no?”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Julie Cannon divides her time by being a corporate suit, a partner, mom, sister, friend, and writer. Julie and Laura, her partner of twenty-one years, have lived in at least half a dozen states, and have an unending supply of dedicated friends. And of course the most important people in their lives are their thirteen-year-old son and daughter.

  Julie has ten books published by Bold Strokes Books. Her first novel, Come and Get Me, was a finalist for the Golden Crown Literary Society’s Best Lesbian Romance and Debut Author Awards. In 2012, her ninth novel, Rescue Me, was a finalist as Best Lesbian Romance from the prestigious Lambda Literary Society. Julie has also published five short stories in Bold Strokes Anthologies.

  Acclaim for Julie Cannon’s Fiction

  Breaker’s Passion is…“an exceptionally hot romance in an exceptionally romantic setting.… Cannon has become known for her well-drawn characters and well-written love scenes.”—Just About Write

  In Power Play…“Cannon gives her readers a high stakes game full of passion, humor, and incredible sex.”—Just About Write

  About Heartland…“There’s nothing coy about the passion of these unalike dykes—it ignites at first encounter and never abates. …Cannon’s
well-constructed novel conveys more complexity of character and less overwrought melodrama than most stories in the crowded genre of lesbian-love-against-all-odds—a definite plus.”—Richard Labonte, Book Marks

  “Cannon has given her readers a novel rich in plot and rich in character development. Her vivid scenes touch our imaginations as her hot sex scenes touch us in many other areas. Uncharted Passage is a great read.”—Just About Write

  About Just Business…“Julie Cannon’s novels just keep getting better and better! This is a delightful tale that completely engages the reader. It’s a must read romance!”—Just About Write

  Books Available from Bold Strokes Books

  The Quickening: A Sisters of Spirits Novel by Yvonne Heidt. Ghosts, visions, and demons are all in a day’s work for Tiffany. But when Kat asks for help on a serial killer case, life takes on another dimension altogether. (978-1-60282-975-6)

  Windigo Thrall by Cate Culpepper. Six women trapped in a mountain cabin by a blizzard, stalked by an ancient cannibal demon bent on stealing their sanity—and their lives. (978-1-60282-950-3)

  Smoke and Fire by Julie Cannon. Oil and water, passion and desire, a combustible combination. Can two women fight the fire that draws them together and threatens to keep them apart? (978-1-60282-977-0)

  Asher’s Fault by Elizabeth Wheeler. Fourteen-year-old Asher Price sees the world in black and white, much like the photos he takes, but when his little brother drowns at the same moment Asher experiences his first same-sex kiss, he can no longer hide behind the lens of his camera and eventually discovers he isn’t the only one with a secret. (978-1-60282-982-4)

  Love and Devotion by Jove Belle. KC Hall trips her way through life, stumbling into an affair with a married bombshell twice her age. Thankfully, her best friend, Emma Reynolds, is there to show her the true meaning of Love and Devotion. (978-1-60282-965-7)