Set the Stage

by Karis Walsh

  An older gentleman handed her a program and a felt-tipped pen. She started to sign her name, graciously thanking him when he told her how well she had played the part.

  “I saw you as Titania last weekend. You were lovely.” He tipped his head to one side and stared at her. “Although I think you rushed your entrances.”

  Emilie wanted to laugh. Way to drag someone down from a high, and she hadn’t even been up there for very long. She caught a glimpse of Arden out of the corner of her eye, frantically gesturing to her, and she remembered their conversation in the pub. Arden had predicted this. What had she told Emilie to say?

  “Thank you,” she said, with as much sincerity as she could manage. “I’ll take your advice under consideration.”

  He beamed at her, as if he was about to send his prodigy into the world. He took one of her hands in both of his and shook it. “You are the most beautiful Titania I’ve ever seen. Once you get your timing down, you’ll be perfect.”

  Arden came over to her as soon as the crowd had moved on. She seemed barely able to control her laughter. “Oh my God. The look on your face when he said that. I have never seen anything so funny.”

  Emilie bumped into her, and Arden staggered back a few steps, still laughing. She walked back to Emilie and draped an arm over her shoulder. “He’ll be telling people for years about how he gave acting advice to Ashland’s greatest star. You made his night.”

  Emilie smiled. The man’s words had been jarring, but they had brought her back down to earth. She put her arm around Arden’s waist and steered them toward town. “I’m glad. Now, how about you make mine?”

  *****

  Arden felt as if Emilie was a balloon, about to rise off the ground and float away at any moment. She understood the excitement Emilie must be feeling because the performance had lifted Arden to another realm, too, and the sensation must be magnified exponentially for someone who had been onstage. Arden had seen the play twice already—with Gemini as the star, and Emilie’s unfortunate opening night. Even though she was familiar with the scenes and lines, Emilie made it seem as if Arden was watching something totally new. She had watched with anticipation, holding her breath during some parts—even though she already knew how the events would unfold—and crying unashamedly during others.

  She reached for Emilie’s hand as they walked. Not to bring her down to earth since she was happy to see such joy emanating from her, but to keep a connection between them. She needed to feel Emilie close, and given the way Emilie was gripping her hand, she felt the same.

  “What do you want to do?” she asked. “Eat? Go to the pub? Go bowling?”

  Emilie laughed. “Bowling is tempting, but what I’d really like to do is walk for a while, and burn off some of this adrenaline. I just wish we could be away from crowds.”

  “This way,” Arden said, swinging Emilie around until they were walking away from downtown. The hill they were on grew steeper as it led them deeper into a residential neighborhood. Arden intentionally walked out of step with Emilie because it gave her an excuse to jostle her and make her laugh every few feet.

  They hadn’t gone far before Arden turned up a driveway and alongside a slate-blue and gray ranch-style house. The front yard was neat and well tended, with a few bright spots of flowering plants and a curved bit of lawn. Arden opened the side gate and gestured for Emilie to go into the backyard.

  Emilie hesitated. “Is this your house? Or are we trespassing?”

  “It’s mine. There’s a place back here where you can walk in peace.” Arden followed behind Emilie as she went through the gate. This was the first time she had ever brought a date to this part of her property. She had invited women into her home and bed, but they didn’t go into her yard. She wanted Emilie to see it.

  “Whoa. This is…Did you…?” Emilie halted just inside the fence and stared at the garden. Arden had found a small house with a huge lot and had transformed the backyard into a massive garden. Herbs were the stars of the show, but other shrubs and plants that she chose for either their colorful flowers or their interesting foliage were added here and there. The beds were laid out in an intricate pattern, with pink-hued crushed gravel paths twisting and turning throughout.

  A white wire archway marked the opening, and Emilie walked through with Arden close behind. She was planning to remain silent and let Emilie have some space after her emotion-drenched performance as Cassella, but Em pointed to plants here and there and asked Arden what they were. Arden happily described how she had chosen each one and showed Emilie all her favorites. Occasionally, she broke off a stem or leaf for Emilie.

  “This is marjoram,” she said, crushing some tiny, velvety leaves between her fingers. Emilie took her hand and sniffed, brushing her nose against Arden’s sensitive fingertips. The light touch made Arden’s heart rate increase to what was probably a code red level.

  They circled around several times before arriving in the middle, where Arden had built a small brick patio with room for two chairs. A stone bust of Shakespeare nestled in among some sage plants nearby, and a birdbath with little rock frogs perched on the rim was placed in the exact center of the garden.

  Emilie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. “I can pick out some different scents, but you’ve created the most beautiful perfume by putting them together.”

  Arden moved to her side and brushed a tendril of hair off Emilie’s forehead. As soon as she let go, the curl dropped back where it had originally been.

  “I love your post-performance hair,” Arden said. “It’s stubborn, with a mind of its own. Just like you.”

  “It’s just relieved to have been released from bald cap hair jail. It’s making the most of its freedom.”

  Arden smiled. Now that she had started touching Emilie, she didn’t want to stop. She traced the lines of Emilie’s face and neck, the sexy curve of her collarbones, the edges where the fabric of her clothes gave way to bare skin. Emilie had closed her eyes again, receptive to Arden’s wandering hands, but when Arden reached under the collar of her T-shirt and followed the swell of her breasts with restless fingers, Emilie looked at her with widened eyes, and a soft flush of red spread across her neck and chest.

  Arden switched positions, putting her hands on the hem of Emilie’s shirt and sliding upward, taking the folds of material with her. She lifted the shirt until she had access to Emilie’s chest, and she leaned down to kiss along the path her hands had taken. She nipped gently at the fullness just above the line of Emilie’s bra, reveling in the way she could feel Em’s breathing grow more rapid against her mouth.

  She tugged Em’s shirt back into place. “Do you want to come inside?” she asked, barely recognizing her own voice. It sounded huskier, as if she had been parched for years, and Emilie was the only one who could quench her thirst.

  Emilie shook her head. Arden felt a sharp pang of rejection, but Emilie kissed her and pushed that emotion out of the way.

  “I don’t want to leave this place,” she said. She backed up, bringing Arden along with her, until she reached the grassy area next to the birdbath. She knelt on the ground, and Arden did the same. They paused for a moment, and then Arden took hold of Emilie’s shirt and pulled it all the way off this time. She tossed it to one side as Emilie yanked off her shirt as well. Her bra followed seconds later, and then Emilie was kissing her breasts and driving the rest of the world away.

  Well, most of it. Arden held on to a thread of sanity, even as Emilie threatened to cut her loose from everything she knew and believed. She would let herself enjoy being with Em, and she was especially enjoying the way Em moved her back until she was lying on the ground, with Em kissing her and enveloping her in a soft wave of wild curls. But Arden couldn’t forget what their future held, and she couldn’t forget everyone who had loved her and left in the past.

  She felt the gentle weight of Emilie’s hips resting between her legs, and Emilie’s tongue flicking teasingly close to her nipple. Emilie had been irresistible
tonight. Her talent and her drive excited Arden. Emilie’s passion for her career inspired her. But somehow, in the midst of those flighty and ephemeral emotions, Emilie grounded her.

  She was grounding her literally right now, as she kissed Arden’s lower belly and made her arch her back, pressing her hips into the grass and dirt. Arden grimaced at the pun.

  Stop thinking.

  Not all the way, of course. Arden needed to keep hold of rational thought, not let herself be ruled by sensations.

  She suddenly realized Emilie had stopped kissing and was watching her.

  “Where are you?” Emilie asked, her hand resting on the front of Arden’s jeans. She had been about to unbutton them and take them off, hadn’t she? Arden didn’t want her to stop.

  “I’m here,” she said. Mostly, she added inside her mind.

  Emilie shook her head, and the brush of hair against Arden’s stomach made her moan. “Are you trying to keep some distance to protect yourself, or are you just not feeling turned on by me?”

  Arden lifted herself up on her elbows. “God, Em, don’t even think that. I’ve never wanted someone like I want you. You’re attractive in so many ways, I couldn’t list them all before sunrise.”

  “So you’re intentionally holding back.” Emilie moved as if to climb off Arden, but she grabbed her elbow to stop her.

  “You know I’ve been hurt before, Emilie. Some of those experiences are never far from my mind when we’re together because I know the end of the season will be here sooner than we realize.”

  “Arden.” Emilie’s voice was stern and determined. “I am careful not to be a diva in the theater, but when it comes to sex, I’m as bad as they come. I won’t share the stage with a string of your exes or whoever else is roaming through your mind. Either it’s just the two of us here tonight, or it’ll be you alone with your memories. You have to choose.”

  Arden didn’t have to stop and think whether she wanted Emilie to stay or not, but the decision to forget about those defining moments in her life was harder to make. She kept herself safe because she didn’t let herself forget. But Emilie deserved all her attention if they were going to be together, not what was left over after Arden’s past took the bulk of it.

  Arden leaned back again and closed her eyes. She inhaled and smelled the heavy, dusty scent of sage and the sweet notes of honeysuckle. She felt the cool blades of grass under her shoulders and the slight, growing ache in her lower back from lying on the hard, chilly ground. Most of all, she felt the softness of Emilie’s waist as she rocked slightly between Arden’s legs and the point of her chin where she rested it on Arden’s stomach and watched her.

  The texture of Emilie and the aromas emanating from the garden brought her fully into the present. She was going to say something to Emilie, to assure her that she was here wholeheartedly, but Emilie must have sensed her feelings and thoughts as easily as she had before. She gave a contented sigh and resumed her journey down Arden’s body.

  Arden lifted her hips and let Emilie pull her jeans down her legs and off her body. Emilie’s fingers gripped her knees, spreading them wider apart, and every ounce of Arden’s heart and mind was there with Emilie as she lowered her head. Arden gasped at the first touch of Emilie’s tongue.

  Arden wrapped her lower leg around Emilie’s hips, anchoring them together as Emilie brought her closer to the edge with every lick and gentle bite. Emilie was relentless, breaking down Arden’s barriers stone by stone until there was nowhere left to hide. Arden came, crying out in the dense garden air, her mind emptied of everything but Emilie.

  Emilie had shifted until her head rested on Arden’s chest, and the quick staccato of Arden’s heartbeat echoed inside her. The aroma of the flowers and Arden combined to make a scent so intoxicating Emilie would pay her entire salary for a single ounce. She wanted to stay in Arden’s embrace, in this magical garden, forever. She relaxed for the first time in ages, and felt herself drifting toward sleep.

  “Ouch,” she said, jarring awake when her thigh muscle started to cramp. She had been trying to hold her knees off the chilled ground.

  Arden groaned underneath her when Emilie moved to a new position. “How rude of me,” Arden said. “You must be very uncomfortable up there on top of me instead of lying on this cushy, hard-packed dirt. Care to trade places?”

  Emilie laughed and rolled off to one side, gingerly coming to a sitting position and rubbing her stiff neck. “No, thank you. Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a bed inside, would you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” Arden put her palms on the ground and walked them forward until she was sitting upright. “If I remember correctly, I was going to take you there a few minutes ago, but you said you wanted to stay out here where it’s so delightfully freezing.”

  Emilie booted at Arden with her foot. “Really? Do I hear complaints coming from you?”

  “Not a chance, angel,” Arden said, leaning forward and kissing Emilie. The kiss transformed quickly, because now they both had experienced exactly where kisses would lead and Emilie felt eager to move forward again. Arden moved away and grinned at her. “You taste so good, Em. I can’t get enough of you.”

  “I taste like you.” Emilie got on her hands and knees before standing up, stretching as warmth and flexibility returned to her body. She held out a hand and pulled Arden up, tugging her close for another soul-deep kiss. “Bed,” she whispered. “Now.”

  Arden kept hold of Emilie’s hand, only letting go to grab their hastily discarded clothing and again to fish her key out of her jeans and unlock the back door. Emilie looked around with interest—she wanted to thoroughly explore the space where Arden lived, but the bedroom was the more urgent destination at the moment. She got a series of glimpses now and would look more closely at every detail later.

  Her general conclusion was a reinforcement of what she already knew. Arden was a skilled designer, and good at blending color and texture to make a pleasing visual impact. As they walked through the living room and down a hallway, Emilie noticed a few pieces that had probably belonged to her grandparents. A crocheted afghan on the couch, a tall, aged armoire stained a warm chestnut brown, and some framed photos of a little girl with solemn eyes and an expression far more mature than her age would suggest.

  “Oh, look at you.” Emilie stopped in front of one of the pictures, her finger hovering over young Arden’s face, as if she could reach through time and connect with her.

  “Yeah, yeah, I was adorable. Come on, Em.” Arden pulled her away from the pictures and into a room.

  Emilie let impressions from the bedroom wash over her as Arden backed her toward the bed until her knees bumped into it. The colors were earthy and warm, with golds and greens and browns everywhere. Most of the surfaces in the room were bare of knickknacks and other items, but the walls were filled with photographs of Arden and her grandparents, as well as some framed prints from festival plays. The overall look was clean and comfortable, but subdued. Arden had poured herself into her garden more than the interior.

  Emilie put her arms around Arden as she lay back, bringing Arden with her without allowing a millimeter of space between them. She traced circles on Arden’s back with one hand while the other sifted through Arden’s soft, straight hair. The strands tickled her aroused, sensitive skin as they dropped against one side of her neck, and Arden slowly kissed the other side with teasing gentleness.

  Arden rolled to one side and propped up on an elbow. She watched Emilie’s face without breaking eye contact as her hand explored every inch it could reach, from Emilie’s collarbones to the curve of her lower belly. Emilie tried to keep her focus on Arden’s face, but her eyelids fluttered closed when Arden reached between her legs. Emilie could feel how thoroughly wet she was, and the sensation of Arden’s fingers slipping so easily against her made a soft sound catch in the back of her throat. She struggled to inhale and exhale, to keep the movement of her hips under her own control, but she was failing miserably. Her breathing was out of
rhythm, but her body matched the beat set by Arden’s hand until Emilie had to give up and let her lead the dance.

  She opened her eyes and saw Arden watching her still, an amazed and loving smile on her face. Emilie returned the smile for an instant, before the increasing pressure from Arden’s fingers brought her to the point of climax.

  Emilie made a pretense of keeping herself under control for a few more seconds before Arden shattered her into a million pieces. As the waves of her orgasm slowly subsided, Arden wrapped herself around Emilie, making her whole again even more powerfully than she had torn her apart.

  Chapter Twenty

  Arden was reluctantly drawn out of her dreams by a shrill and insistent ringtone. She slapped at her own phone on the bedside table before the memory of the night before cascaded into place.

  The sound was coming from Em’s messenger bag, where it had been flung near her closet door when they had finally stumbled into Arden’s bedroom last night. Still as hungry for each other as they had been hours before.

  And the long, drawn out No coming from under the pillow next to her was Emilie. An oh-so-familiar shape under the covers, with her untamed curls peeking out from the corner of the sage-green pillowcase. Damn. Even the color of the bedding complemented her, as if the room had been specifically designed for Emilie to be here. Just like Arden’s heart had felt last night.

  She got up and dug out the phone, bringing it back to the bed and pressing it into the seemingly disembodied hand that was hanging over the edge of the mattress. The fingers closed around the annoying device and disappeared under the covers with it.

  She heard a mumbled conversation as she got back in bed and reached out a hand to tentatively rest it on the comforter-covered Emilie. The response was immediate, both in her own body, where a heavy feeling of desire surged low in her belly, and in Emilie, who burrowed against her. Arden sighed, her need to get a little space and process the events of the night before fighting a losing battle against the urge to smash the phone to dust and have her way with Emilie for the third time. Or was it the fourth?