by VK Powell
“Who was that woman?”
Grace assumed she was asking about Jay and considered not answering, but she wasn’t cruel and didn’t play games. “A friend.”
“A friend-friend or lover-friend?”
“Just a friend, Dani, but I don’t think that’s any of your concern because you’ve made it perfectly—”
Dani dipped her head and kissed Grace, lightly, awkwardly, but the heat of her lips made Grace tingle and grow weak. For a second, she couldn’t move as shock surged through her followed by the clumsy tenderness of Dani’s kiss. What was happening? When Dani pulled back, Grace pressed her hand to her lips to stop a jumble of feelings from pouring out. “That’s not how it’s done either, Ms. Wingate.”
“I just wanted to show you how I feel.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“I’m…not sure.”
Grace shook her head. “And I’m not a toy you can play with when you feel like it and discard when you don’t. You wanted to talk, so talk or I’m leaving.”
Dani gripped the sides of the sink, her knuckles white. “I saw you with that woman…and I…”
“I know it’s hard to talk about this stuff, but you can tell me, Dani.” Grace waited while Dani looked at her body, lingered over her breasts and lower before focusing on her lips. The hard set of Dani’s jaw slowly loosened and she pushed away from the sink.
“You were holding her. She had her arms around you. You looked…intimate.”
“And how did that make you feel?” Dani’s expression shifted from vulnerable to scared in a matter of seconds, and Grace knew she wouldn’t get an honest answer.
“I have no right.”
She reached for the door, but Grace caught her hand and brought it to her waist. She’d never seen a woman so afraid of being close, of caring, and she ached to know why. “Rights come with time and respect, and we don’t really know each other. I’m willing to learn. Are you?” She leaned in and kissed Dani, probed her lips gently with her tongue, and then eased inside. Grace guided her back against the sink, pressed her thigh between Dani’s legs, loving the fit of their bodies, wanting to live in that kiss until she couldn’t breathe.
Dani’s response was immediate and hungry. She ran her hands down Grace’s back to her butt and tugged her even closer. Grace relaxed, certain that for a moment the feelings between them were real even if Dani couldn’t express them in words. And then Grace stepped back, opened the door and forced her trembling legs to walk casually away.
“But, Grace…” Dani’s voice faded in the noise of the party as Grace shouldered her way to the front door.
Walking away was the hardest thing Grace had ever done, but she refused to give her heart to another woman who couldn’t love her completely.
Chapter Ten
Grace poked her head around the corner of the B and B looking for Dani. She hoped she was already gone, because she desperately needed lunch without a side of drama.
“She hasn’t come down yet,” Mary Jane said. “She came in around three this morning. Heard that was quite a party.”
“Lunch ready?” Grace grabbed a Diet Coke and purposely avoided the reference to the cookout. Mary Jane would spill the rest of her news soon enough without encouragement.
“Finishing up. Have a seat.” Mary Jane pointed to Grace’s usual spot.
She’d just settled when cautious footsteps sounded on the squeaky stairs followed shortly by Dani standing in the doorway looking flushed and too appealing for someone who’d been up most of the night. “Hi,” Grace said.
“Morning.” Dani turned and walked out the front door without another word.
“Well,” Mary Jane said. “Guess I don’t have to wonder if the gossip was true. You two definitely had a moment at the cookout, and it appears not all warm and fuzzy. It’s colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra in here.”
“Please, MJ, you know better than to believe town gossip.” She paused and took a few sips of Coke, hoping Mary Jane would fill in the blanks. When that failed, she couldn’t resist. “So, what exactly did you hear?”
Mary Jane grabbed her coffee cup and sat across from her at the table, lowering her voice for effect. “At church, I heard the new vet, that’s Dani, and some young girl named Michelle had a very public breakup right in front of everybody. And there was speculation that Michelle might be under age, but Clarabelle said she knows for a fact Michelle is at least twenty-one because she went with her grandson to an event where alcohol was served and had to show ID. May overheard talk that you and Jay Griffith were making out near the pool. Then, not five minutes later, one of the visiting choir members said she saw you and Dani sneak into a bathroom together…and you didn’t come out for ages.” Mary Jane gave her the equivalent of the stink eye. “Thought I taught you better. Two women in one afternoon? Any truth to the rumors? Want to comment on what went on?”
Grace heated, whether from her irritation with Trip at throwing her into the uncomfortable situation with Jay or at Dani’s behavior or their kisses, she wasn’t entirely sure. “No.”
“That’s all I get? No? How will I hold my head up in this town when I live with one of the main characters in these juicy stories and can’t even get a firsthand account?”
“Don’t gossip.”
“Exactly my point. If you told me what happened, it wouldn’t be gossip, and I could set the record straight.”
“Nope.”
The room was quiet for several seconds before Mary Jane whispered, “You know you can talk to me.” She reached across the table and squeezed Grace’s hand.
“Thanks, but we need to revisit something relating to the B and B. Are you still sure about Harry living in the sunroom? I’ll be responsible for feeding him and cleaning his cage.”
“How will you do that? He hates you.”
“I’ll try, because I don’t want you taking on any more work, and he’s going to be part of the family. We have to figure out how to get along.”
“I’ll clear out a spot in the corner of the sunroom this afternoon.”
“Thanks, MJ. You’re the best.”
“Of course I am.” She looked down at her hands before one more attempt to get Grace to open up. “Did Dani do something to you, something rude?”
She didn’t know how to explain what had happened between her and Dani. She’d run the scenario through her mind since last night with no new revelations. “Nothing I can’t handle, MJ. Dani is just a little confused right now, and I’m letting her work through it.”
What else could she do? She liked Dani a lot, and something about her forced Grace to stand up for herself, which wasn’t a bad thing. If this was Dani’s lesson to her, the message was worth an unrequited attraction.
“That’s probably best, honey. Now, can I get you some lunch?”
“I’ll make a plate in a bit. Thank you for looking out for me.”
Mary Jane grabbed her in a hug and squeezed until Grace kissed her cheek and pulled away. They’d played that game since she was a kid, and Grace still loved that the comfort of Mary Jane’s arms felt like home.
* * *
Dani couldn’t face Grace after her unchivalrous behavior at the party, much less sit across the table from her and eat a meal pretending nothing significant had happened between them. Her jealousy had been unexpected and totally uncharacteristic, and when Grace called her on it, Dani balked. She couldn’t even tell Grace how she felt—that she was starting to care for her and was afraid of hurting her. So, like a coward, she’d snuck out of the B and B. Work was what she needed, so she’d decided to relieve some of Trip’s Sunday workload at the clinic. She’d taken in the alcohol steadily last night and might need a hand.
Dani was inserting a new IV in the leg of an Irish setter who’d pulled his previous one out during the night when Trip walked into the treatment room. “Hey, haven’t you read your contract? You’re not scheduled to come in on Sundays. That’s my job because you cover Saturdays while I go to h
orse shows.”
Dani glanced up and smiled as she finished taping the IV securely to the setter’s leg, then ruffled the dog’s ears affectionately and softly scolded him. “Now leave that one alone or you’ll get a cone of shame next time.” The dog wagged his tail, oblivious to her threat.
“I don’t think your scolding penetrated his thick Irish setter skull,” Trip said in a teasing tone.
Dani shrugged. “You know what they say in vet school…”
“Some dogs have brains and others have red coats,” they quoted together.
“This is his last bag of fluids, anyway,” Dani said, hefting him from the table and walking him back to his cage. “He’s feeling a lot better. I’ll call his owner to pick him up tomorrow. I doubt we’ll have to worry about them being careless with antifreeze again once I show them their bill.”
“Their teenager was the careless one, but it won’t happen again. Not only did he come close to losing his best friend, he’ll be working off most of that bill slinging hay bales for my property manager, Jerome. Trust me, that’s hard work he won’t soon forget.”
While Dani gently checked the IVs and administered medicine to a pair of Yorkie pups suffering from parvo, Trip pulled a terrier mix from a smaller pen and checked the multiple stitched wounds he’d earned in a fight with a dog five times his size. “This guy looks like something out of a horror movie, but he should be good to go home tomorrow, too.”
“You were right about the cookout, by the way.”
“How so?”
“I met a lot of great people and even picked up a new client.”
“Do tell,” Trip said.
“A terrier mix with a gastric problem. She was a shelter pup, so her medical history is sketchy. It’s a chronic issue, and several visits to specialists have helped the owner manage it somewhat. But she’s worried because the pup seems to be having some abdominal pain and has lost interest in food.”
“Could be intestinal cancer,” Trip offered, closing the terrier back in his pen. “Who’s the owner?”
“Jamie Grant. It’d be a shame if it is cancer. The terrier came from a program that turns the most unwanted shelter dogs into service animals. Jamie works for the sheriff’s office and trained the dog herself to sniff out drugs and explosives.”
Trip stood by the terrier’s pen staring off in the distance.
“Trip? Are you all right?”
“Fine. My brain just sidetracked to something else for a minute. It’s still a little foggy. What were you saying?”
“I’ve already been through the cat room, so we’re done.”
“Oh, right. Remind me why you’re here on a Sunday?”
Dani ducked her head. “Well, I saw you, uh, napping in the chair on the front porch and had an idea you might not be up for dealing with clogged drainage tubes and double diarrhea from the Yorkie twins.”
Trip couldn’t meet her gaze. “Yeah. Not usually my style. At least, not since I graduated vet school a decade ago.” She rubbed her temples. “And it’ll be two decades, if ever, before I’ll do it again. But thanks for having my back.”
“No problem,” Dani said.
Trip started to leave but stopped in the doorway. “Did Jamie make an appointment for her dog?”
“Tomorrow. Nine o’clock. Before they start their shift.”
“My morning is flexible. I’ll handle that one if you don’t mind. Jamie and I were teammates on the basketball team where I did my undergrad. I’d like to take this one personally.”
“Sure, no problem. Jamie didn’t mention you were friends. I sure hope it isn’t cancer so you don’t have to give her bad news.”
“Yeah. Thanks. See you tomorrow morning.”
* * *
“Glitter Girl to Fast Break and Paint Ball, do you copy?” Grace tried a second time to reach Trip and Clay on her CB radio. Texting or calling would’ve been easier, but she still enjoyed using their high school method of communicating, a reminder of simpler times. She hadn’t talked to Dani since their kisses at the cookout and needed their advice. “Come in, guys.”
“Paint Ball here. Go, Glitter Girl.” Clay’s concerned voice sounded crisp and loud over the radio, and Grace breathed easier.
“Where are you?”
“On a pickup near the county line, about thirty minutes outside town. Are you okay?”
“Fast Break, I copy. What’s up?” Trip cut in.
“Any chance you guys could meet me at Mosquito Alley for a powwow?” They’d adopted a portion of the Altamaha River as their private meeting place and dubbed it after the pesky occupants.
“Paint Ball ETA about five thirty.”
“Fast Break same.”
“Thanks. I’ll bring some food and drinks. Glitter Girl out.” Even though they saw each other almost daily somewhere in town, the alley gatherings were special, just the three of them.
She packed the beer into a cooler in the trunk of her battered Corolla, covered them with ice, and gathered some of their favorite snacks on the way out of town. When she arrived at Mosquito Alley, she parked behind Trip’s clinic truck and Clay’s wrecker but didn’t see either of them. “Hey, where are you guys?”
She glanced out across the water at the rope swing swaying from the mammoth old oak tree. They were in the water already. Those two could probably recite exactly where the Altamaha originated and the path it took to the Atlantic, but she didn’t really care as long as it came by Pine Cone.
Trip’s voice drifted up from the river, “Taking a quick splash. Bring your mosquito spray.”
“I could use a hand with the food,” she called back. She emphasized the magic word that assured both would show up quickly. Clay and Trip scrambled up the riverbank, their shorts and tank tops dripping and their hair plastered flat from swimming. They both had bodies to die for, and if they weren’t such great friends, she could go for either of them, but that ship had sailed years ago with a pact to never cross that line, drunk or sober.
“Did somebody mention food?” Clay grabbed Grace and gave her a big wet hug. “Where’s your swimsuit, woman?”
Before she could answer, Trip hugged her from the back, effectively soaking her from both sides. “Who needs to swim when I have you two?”
Clay grabbed one side of the cooler and Trip the other in a time-honored act of chivalry that always made Grace feel special. At the water’s edge, they set it down on Grace’s favorite flat rock, and Trip gave Grace a mischievous grin.
“Don’t even think about it, Trip Beaumont. If you throw me in the water, neither of you will get anything from that cooler.”
Trip shrugged, nudged Grace closer to the water, and then darted around her and jumped in, splashing just enough to cool Grace’s legs. “Chicken,” she called to Clay.
“No can do, pal,” Clay said. “She threatened my energy source.” Clay helped Grace spread a picnic blanket on the rock and then stared across the river toward the sunset. “Isn’t this view just amazing? All the texture, colors, and the light…the light is so good.”
“You’re such an artist, Cahill,” Grace teased her. She glanced at Clay’s hands and saw fresh paint stains around her nails. “Painting for real again?”
“Yep. Had an image in my head that wouldn’t go away.”
“I’m so glad, Clay. You were born for it.”
“I know, right?” She blew Grace a kiss before jumping back in the river.
Grace poured herself a plastic cup of wine and rested against the slick-sided rock while watching Trip and Clay splash and dunk each other. She usually joined them, but today she was too pensive to play. She needed to talk. When Clay and Trip showed no signs of letting up, she reached into the cooler and rattled the beer bottles loudly. Clay’s and Trip’s heads popped out of the water and looked toward her. “Cold one?” Before she could twist the tops off two bottles, they were beside her.
“Okay, hand over my money.” Trip held out her hand to Clay.
“What did you bet on this ti
me?” Grace asked.
Clay riffled through her dry clothes until she found her wallet and handed over a ten-dollar bill. “How long you’d wait to talk. I said thirty minutes, and Trip guessed fifteen. So, what’s up, Gracie?”
Grace reached toward the food containers. “Are you hungry? I brought all your favorites. Chicken wings, ribs, cracklings, and potato salad.”
Trip cocked her head. “You’re stalling. We know where the food is. What’s up?”
“Dani Wingate.”
Clay and Trip stared at each other for several seconds, but neither spoke. Finally, Clay fished another ten from her wallet and handed it to Trip.
“Seriously, guys?”
“I’m a sucker for a sure bet,” Trip said and gave Grace her cutest femme-slaying smile. “Besides Jolene at the diner is telling everybody the two of you’ve already slept together.”
“What?” Grace glared at her. “I hope you set her right.”
Trip shook her head. “She could know something I don’t.”
“She is your type,” Clay said shyly, taking another swig of beer.
“And what exactly is my type?”
“Over to you, pal.” Trip looked out over the water.
Clay shrugged. “You know, like…us.” She wagged a finger between herself and Trip. “Handsome, butch, sporty…did I mention handsome?”
Trip added, “Yeah, what Clay said. In other words, if we weren’t like sisters, we’d probably be dating each other.”
“There’s a significant difference between the two of you and Dani. She doesn’t even want to be around me half the time.”
“Explain,” Trip said.
“She barely speaks to me one day, almost kisses me the next, shies away if I get too close, can’t talk about her feelings, and goes to Savannah twice a week, probably to get laid.”