by Radclyffe
“Just so you know,” Blake said, allowing her to hold his hand, a rare treat these days, “I’m really happy.”
“Then we’re definitely headed in the right direction.” Abby leaned over and kissed his cheek. “How about I change the Steri-Strips, and we’ll get you into the new vest.”
“Can I ask you something?” Blake said as Abby gently peeled off the Steri-Strips.
“Sure.” Abby opened another package, cleaned the incisions with a cotton swab, and reapplied the paper strips.
“It’s about your favorite topic.”
Abby glanced up at him. “Okay, that would be books, movies, or…?”
He grinned, looking as if he was trying to cover his discomfort. “Sex.”
“Aha. All right. Shoot.”
“Do you think you can love somebody without having sex with them?”
“That’s an easy one.” Abby sat back in the chair. “Absolutely. I love a lot of people who I’ve never had sex with. Harper and Presley, for example. I love both of them. Presley’s been my best friend since you were a baby, and I can’t imagine not having her nearby now that we’re close again.”
“Have you ever wanted to have sex with someone you loved, but didn’t?”
“That’s getting harder. A few times I thought I was in love and the other person didn’t feel the same, so no sex. I can think of at least one time when I had really serious feelings for someone who was with someone else. So that was a no sex time too.” Abby wanted to ask why he was asking and who he was asking about, but when he was talking wasn’t the time for her to probe. It was time for her to listen and hope she had the right answers. Or at least answers that helped him find his own.
“How about sex with somebody you didn’t love. You know, just sex.”
She laughed shortly. “Okay, so now you’re getting personal. Some things have to be private.”
He grinned. “Theoretically, then.”
“I think what you’re asking me is if love and sex always go together.”
Blake was analytical. He got that from her. He didn’t jump to conclusions. He thought things through, and she could see him thinking about what he was really asking. Finally, he said, “I think that’s right. So I guess my question is about when you ought to have sex—because sometimes it seems like your body’s in the driver’s seat.”
“Wow. Okay.” Abby took a deep breath. “First, let me say I think sexual feelings are perfectly natural under all kinds of circumstances. We have hormones and all kinds of neurochemicals that influence the way we feel physically and sexually—”
“I know that part, Mom.”
“Right. So let’s just assume that all sexual feelings are okay.”
“Okay.”
“So then the question is when, right?” Abby said.
He nodded.
“I don’t need to say first of all when it’s consensual, but I will just for the record.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Well, of course.”
“I think the next step after mutual desire is mutual understanding.” She didn’t need to spell out things for him. He was too smart for that. If she tried, he’d just be insulted.
After a moment, Blake said, “You mean making sure that it means the same thing to both people.”
“As much as is possible.” Abby sighed. “Unfortunately, sometimes people have sex for reasons that aren’t the same as what they say.”
“But how are you supposed to know that?”
Abby blew out a breath. “Unfortunately, you can’t always. If something feels off, if you have this sense that the other person is using sex for something other than connecting and expressing love and desire, then I would say you want to wait.”
“Man, that must be why everybody says sex is complicated.”
“It’s a tough one, baby,” Abby said.
He winced at the endearment.
“I’m sorry. I know. But really, I’m probably going to call you that until you’re fifty.”
“Great.”
Abby smiled. “So is this helping at all?”
“I think so. I kinda came to the same conclusions.”
“Good. Wanting to be physical with someone you care about is a natural thing. If you can, talk about it first.” She patted his leg. “And I happen to know you’re a very good communicator.”
“Yeah, okay.” Blake relaxed. “So what’s in the other bag?”
Abby laughed. “Your other present.”
“Yeah?” His voice lifted in anticipation.
She handed it to him, and he instantly dug inside and pulled out a T-shirt. He held it up, his eyes widening.
The black shirt was emblazoned with the logo of the old rock band the Doors. Abby couldn’t figure out exactly why so many teenagers seemed to love music that was already old when she was young, but she’d heard enough of it on the station Margie and Blake favored to figure out what he liked.
“Oh, wow. This is great.” Blake frowned. “But it’s a medium.”
“I know,” Abby said gently. “I don’t see any reason why you can’t wear a T-shirt that fits you now.”
He lowered the shirt, gripping it in his fists. He always wore extra-large T-shirts to hide what little breast tissue hadn’t resolved with the hormone therapy. Now he wouldn’t have to. “I think you’re way too cool to be a mom.”
Abby blinked at the stinging in her eyes. “Well, I am, and always will be yours. Come on, let’s get you into the shirt. You ready?”
He rose, zipped up the new vest, and lifted his arms. Laughing, Abby pulled the shirt down over his head, the way she’d done thousands of times.
Chapter Twenty
“Did you learn anything tonight?” Gina asked as she pulled out of the dusty field onto the dirt road bordering the ball field.
Carrie rolled down her window and let in the twilight. The sun dropped low off to the west, taking with it some of the heat of the day and promising a brief respite. She’d sleep with the windows open tonight. “Not as much as I thought I would.”
“Why is that?”
“I was a little distracted.”
Gina grinned and watched the road. “Why is that?”
Carrie laughed. Gina had a knack for teasing her into revealing more than she wanted to, before she was ready. Before she even understood herself what she was feeling. That ability to pull her out of herself, out of her head, was part of Gina’s considerable charm, and part of what scared her. Gina walked through her normal self-defenses as if they weren’t even there, a skill that made her damn near irresistible. Carrie played for time to organize her thoughts by watching the lights reflected in the side-view mirror. A steady stream of pickups and SUVs followed them to the first intersection, some peeling off right and others falling in behind them on the way back to town. Everywhere else, the darkness closed in, leaving her and Gina in their own private world. “I was trying to watch the game and assess the management strategy at the same time.”
“That’s a lot to take in.”
“Uh-huh. Especially when every time I looked at the coach, I remembered kissing her. And a few other things.” So much for keeping the parts she didn’t fully know what to make of to herself. The place where they’d picnicked had only been a few minutes away from the ball field, and her body, hell, her entire system—mind and body—was supercharged by the time she got out of the truck and followed Gina to the Hammers’ bench. Some of Gina’s team members had given Carrie a second look and then cast an inquiring glance at Gina, but Gina didn’t introduce her to anyone. She was just as glad. She didn’t really have the concentration to make small talk. She’d found an empty corner on one of the benches and stayed there for the whole game. Half the time she’d actually been able to pay attention. The other half she’d spent working hard to ignore the insistent pounding of arousal that rose from her depths and spread into every cell of her body. She’d managed not to confess to that, at least. “Like I said. Distracting.”
“You might’v
e noticed I wasn’t looking in your direction.” Gina glanced at her, the heat in her gaze obvious even in reflected light off the dash. “At least not when I could help myself.”
“And why is that?” Carrie’s pulse spiked. So maybe she hadn’t been the only one suffering for the last three hours.
“Every time I caught sight of you, I thought about how good it felt with you underneath me, and then I instantly imagined how good it would feel to be insi—”
Carrie snapped up a hand. “Enough. Don’t get me started again.”
Gina gave an altogether arrogant and self-satisfied chuckle. “Can’t see why not.”
“Because you’re going to be dropping me off at my car in approximately four minutes and twenty-eight seconds. And I need to concentrate to drive the rest of the way home.”
Gina turned her head, gave Carrie a long look. “I could drive you all the way home.”
That was an invitation she couldn’t possibly misinterpret. Part of her leapt up and screamed, Yes. Absolutely. Hurry. Another part grabbed her by the back of her neck and shook her like a puppy about to wander into traffic. If she let Gina drive her home, she would take Gina inside and upstairs to her bedroom. And they’d still be there in the morning, she was certain of that. She wanted it, desperately, and she didn’t know why. Oh, her body knew why—Gina was incredibly sexy and stirred her up to a fever pitch just by kissing her. If she let Gina go any further than that, Carrie was pretty sure she’d disintegrate in a fireball. But she needed to understand what was going on besides being more turned on than any woman had ever gotten her before, because she wasn’t about just sex. She never had been. In fact, sex had never been the number one motivator in any kind of relationship. Of course, thinking back, every single relationship seemed pale and nearly transparent compared to this one.
“You’re thinking awfully hard,” Gina said.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Carrie said quietly. “I’m not thinking at all. And that worries me.”
“Then I’ll take you back to your car.” Gina didn’t sound angry or even upset. Just definite. “Because the last thing I want between us is regrets.”
“And you’re so certain about jumping into bed?” Carrie asked.
Gina’s laugh was short and hard. “Hell no. All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you, and every time I think about you, I have this ache so huge to touch you I can’t breathe.”
Carrie let out a long shaky breath. “Well, a line like that will get you pretty far.”
“It’s no line.” Gina whipped into the drive to the Rivers and gunned the truck up the twisting road to the hospital. She pulled in next to Carrie’s Mini and braked to a sharp stop. “But you don’t know me well enough to know that.”
“You don’t talk much about yourself,” Carrie murmured, “but your actions speak pretty loudly.”
Gina stretched an arm across the seats and stroked Carrie’s cheek. “I want to make love to you. Plain enough?”
“Oh,” Carrie said, her breath catching. “You don’t know how much I want to take you up on that.”
“But?”
Carrie tilted her head and Gina’s fingers feathered down her throat. She shivered and desire twisted in her depths. She didn’t trust herself alone in the dark with Gina and Gina’s hands on her for very long. If she gave the word, Gina would drive her home right now, and they’d be in bed before the engine cooled. A big part of her would be very satisfied come morning. She opened the door, and when Gina opened hers, she shook her head. “I really like it when you come around and hand me out like this is a carriage and I’m a princess.” She laughed. “But I’m afraid any contact right at this moment would be all kinds of dangerous.”
“Are you afraid of me?” Gina murmured, dark and oh so very dangerously sexy.
“More of me, I guess.” Carrie paused. “You do have secrets, and I…I think maybe they scare us both.”
Gina went still, her hand cupped on Carrie’s neck. After a long moment, her thumb brushed over Carrie’s jaw and her hand fell away. “Some secrets should stay buried.”
“Only you can decide that, but if I end up in bed with you, I’m going to find those secrets hard to ignore.” Carrie slid her leg out, feeling her skirt climb up her thigh as she swiveled around and dropped to the ground. “So I’m going to say good night, before I do.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. That was the best picnic and, without a doubt, the best kiss I’ve ever had. Good night.”
The truck door closed and Gina sat with the motor running, the headlights angled toward Carrie’s car as she watched her make her way across the lot. She wanted her, but she couldn’t deny the relief that flooded through her. She’d never been afraid of her desire before, but she’d been young and stupid when she’d first fallen in love. She wasn’t a kid anymore, and she ought to know better. The places inside that Carrie wanted her to expose had died a long time ago, and Carrie deserved more than just her need. She knew how dangerous selfish need could be. When Carrie got in her car, closed the door, and started the engine, Gina backed around and swiftly headed out. She didn’t look back.
*****
“Hey, Carrie, you want to ride over to the game with me and Joe?” Flann said at five forty-five on the first night of the tournament.
Carrie hesitated. She wasn’t exactly feeling sociable, but she needed to get into game mode double-quick. For the next three hours, at least, she couldn’t afford to think about anything except what she needed to do to help her team win. To help her team beat the Hammers. Gina’s team. Gina, whom she’d seen for all of ten minutes in the last couple of days, when they passed each other in the morning at her house. Gina and her guys arrived together promptly at seven a.m. Gina, apparently, wasn’t having any trouble sleeping, unlike Carrie, who not only woke up every few hours but lay awake thinking of things she didn’t want to think about. She forced herself to at least close her eyes and pretend to relax until her normal wake-up time and left for work as usual at seven fifteen. By then Gina and her crew had set up their saws and air guns and ladders and whatnots. Carrie nodded to them as she went to the car and received a perfectly polite and noncommittal response from Gina along with hearty hellos from the guys. And that was that.
Gina hadn’t called her.
To be fair, she hadn’t called Gina, either. She wasn’t entirely sure why. She’d gotten way past the point of not calling up girls she was interested in by the end of high school. She didn’t want to think she was trying to force Gina into proving something. Even worse, she didn’t want to think she was being a coward and avoiding her own feelings. To be honest, it was probably a little bit of both. She’d told Gina she wasn’t ready to go any further than the kiss, which was true enough as far as it went. She definitely wanted to go further than the kiss. She hadn’t been thinking about much else in the last forty-eight hours and had proven her theory that coming by herself to thoughts of Gina making her come was definitely not enough to satisfy. Orgasms were always good. Did anyone ever have a bad orgasm? But none of them left her satisfied. Somewhat less than crazy, maybe, but the persistent wanting still remained.
“Carrie?” Flann was looking at her with a curious expression.
“Oh. Sure. Now?”
“If you’re ready.” Flann narrowed her eyes. Like she didn’t know Carrie was always ready to go two hours ahead of game time. “Joe’s due to be outside in five minutes. And it’s pretty much that time.”
“Right. Okay. Give me two minutes.”
Flann grinned. “Sure. I want to say hi to Abby anyhow.”
“Don’t get hung up in the ER,” Carrie warned, trying for normal. The last couple days, normal had been eluding her. “That means no quick check of patient charts just to see what’s going on, and no waylaying Abby in the hall to fool around.”
“Hey, I never waylay her in the hall.” Flann’s grin widened. “Now, the on-call room, maybe—”
“That’s probably informatio
n you should keep to yourself.” Carrie resolutely logged out, grabbed her bag, and swore off thinking about Gina until after they’d beaten her team.
“How’s your arm feel?” Flann said.
Carrie pressed her lips together grimly. “My arm feels good. I can go three games in the next two days.”
“Let’s just see how it goes. See you downstairs in five minutes.” Flann waved and disappeared around the corner.
“Yeah,” Carrie said with a sigh. That’s what she’d been telling herself about everything since she drove away from Gina in the dark. Wait and see. If she only knew what she was waiting for.
*****
Gina leaned against the end of the bleachers by her bench as trucks and cars pulled in on the opposite side of the field. The Rivers team congregated on the sidelines to start their warm-ups. Flann headed out to the mound to pitch batting practice. Carrie arrived with Joe and, after sitting to pull on cleats, walked down the third-base line with Harper. Gina eased back enough so Carrie wouldn’t notice her staring. Carrie looked great in her uniform, but then she looked great in everything. She’d tied back her hair and looped the tail through the back of her cap. She tossed the first warm-up pitch to Harper, her expression focused but relaxed. Her form was natural and a beautiful thing to watch. Gina smiled to herself. Who was she kidding. Everything about Carrie was beautiful, her pitching technique being just one of a million things she could think of. Her sense of humor, her focus, her determination, even her crazy absolute sense of time painted a fascinating picture of a complicated, captivating woman. And the sexiest woman Gina had ever seen.
“Good luck tonight,” Joe said, appearing out of nowhere beside her.
Gina squelched the urge to jump and turned slowly, blanking her expression. “Shouldn’t you be out on the field warming up?”