by Unknown
“Ten years? That’s wonderful.” Grace was envious of anyone who could keep a relationship going that long, especially someone with a demanding career. “How do you manage it with your career? Or does she travel with you a lot?”
“She has her career too. She’s a book publisher.” Diana expertly spun Grace out and back to her again, her hand collecting Grace around the waist. “It’s better that way. We have so much to talk about when we see each other, and we respect each other’s careers so much. We respect each other so much.”
Grace pondered this, happy that it was possible that two very driven people could remain together in a solid relationship. “Thank you, Diana.”
“For what?” She looked surprised, though pleased.
“For giving me hope.”
“There’s no secret formula. Just a lot of love and commitment.”
“It’s surprising how few people are capable of those two things.”
Diana gave her an appraising look. “If given the chance, you might be surprised at how many people are.” She glanced quickly in Torrie’s direction. “Looks can be so deceiving, don’t you think?”
“Sure. Of course,” Grace said benignly, following Diana’s gaze.
“Take my friend Torrie, for example.” She gave a little laugh. “She’d kill me if I told you this.”
She certainly had Grace’s attention now. What deep, dark secret might Torrie be holding? Her imagination began to run wild. Maybe Torrie had been married at one time and had a couple of young kids somewhere. That she couldn’t quite picture, though it did give her a moment of amusement.
“Every winter when we’re down in Florida getting ready for the new season, she sneaks off to a hospital in Miami almost every day. She’s religious about it.”
“Is she sick?” Grace asked, alarmed. She looked into Diana’s eyes for the truth.
“No, not at all.” Diana smiled, a trace of mischief playing on her lips. “She spends a couple of hours holding the newborn babies. You know, the ones that are sick or in incubators. The unwanted ones too.”
The shock of Diana’s revelation made Grace miss a step. “Whoa, I’ve got you,” Diana said, clasping her a little tighter. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Grace replied, feeling a little dizzy. Torrie holding babies, rocking them, comforting them… It seemed so incongruous, and yet the thought of it pleased Grace to no end. She’d suspected Torrie was a softie, but not to that extent. Now Grace realized she’d made a lot of hasty assumptions about Torrie that didn’t come close to a true picture of her. The mystery of who the real Torrie was would probably never be known to her, she realized, and she regretted this.
“Now remember, don’t you dare tell her I told you,” Diana said, flashing a look at Torrie. “Speaking of our friend, I think she’s getting a little anxious.”
Torrie did look a little fidgety, like she couldn’t decide whether to cut in or not.
Diana sighed loudly. “You’d be amazed at how many times I have to save that woman from herself.” She glided them over to Torrie. “Thank you, Grace. I enjoyed meeting you. And I will meet you again, I’m sure.”
“I hope so,” Grace replied. “Thank you, Diana.”
“Having a good time?” Torrie asked, leading Grace back out to the dance floor.
Grace smiled up at Torrie, glad to be dancing with her. She had that funny, slightly nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach that they were on a date. It felt alarmingly good. “I am, actually. They’re a great bunch of women, especially your friend Diana. I can see why you enjoy spending time with her.”
“Yeah, she is terrific. They all are, in their own way. We’re like a big family. We have our spats sometimes, but they always blow over.”
“You must like big families then.”
“I do. I have three brothers and loads of cousins. A two-year-old niece too. What about you, Grace?”
Grace shook her head. There was really only herself. “No siblings. My father died when I was a teenager and my mother lives in Europe now. We’re not close.”
Torrie looked at her with sympathy but not pity. “I bet you would love a big family, Grace.”
“Trish and James and I are like a family.”
Torrie held her a little tighter. “No. I mean a real family, with siblings you can fight with and play with, and parents who push you and protect you at the same time. And little nieces or nephews to keep you humble. Grandparents too, or in my case, my Aunt Connie to fill my head with good sense every now and then and to just let me be who I am.”
Grace gave Torrie a spontaneous kiss on her cheek. She both envied Torrie and was happy for her. “You’re a very lucky woman, Torrie Cannon.”
Torrie was blushing a little, and the contradiction made her more alluring than ever—suave in the fine tuxedo, yet vulnerable and chastened from a simple kiss. Yes, it would be easy to get swept away by someone like Torrie. Too easy. And then she would be gone and I’d be picking up more pieces.
“Something wrong, Grace?”
Grace shook her head and was grateful the song was ending. She pulled away, though Torrie still lightly held her hand. “I’m fine. It’s been a long day, though. I think I’ll call it a night.”
Regret flashed briefly in Torrie’s eyes. “I probably won’t see you in the morning. I have to fly out really early for a doctor’s appointment. How about a last drink for the road, just you and me? To say good-bye?”
Grace wasn’t sure if it was another come-on line or if Torrie was serious about just wanting a few quiet minutes alone to say good-bye. She shook her head lightly, deciding not to chance that it might be the former. “I think I’ll go up to my room, Torrie.”
There was no mistaking Torrie’s disappointment, but Grace knew it was for the best. As much as her ego might enjoy another come-on from Torrie, the truth was, Torrie was getting harder and harder to resist. And Grace refused to be the kind of person who quickly replaced one lover with another, to pave over her hurt with a brief sexual fling—to use Torrie in order to forget about Aly. Having a long affair with a married woman had been a huge lapse in judgment, and she would not compound it with another.
“I’ll be in my room in a few minutes if you change your mind,” Torrie said hopefully. “We can forget the drink. You could just stop around and say good-bye.”
Grace smiled regretfully. She gave Torrie another kiss on the cheek then tenderly brushed away the faint lipstick smudge. “Good-bye, Torrie. I’ll always remember this week.” I’ll always remember you.
Torrie looked deeply disheartened, and it surprised Grace. She thought Torrie was more of a heartless seductress than that. Where was that callous, carefree Torrie of a few days ago, the one that knew she could have any woman she wanted? That a rejection from Grace could only be temporary insanity on Grace’s part?
Up in her room, Grace kicked off her heels, closed her eyes and contemplated a hot bubble bath. It would be just the tonic after such a long day…a long week, actually. Her feet ached, her back was a little sore. She’d barely sat down all day. Then she pictured Torrie and her indisputable disappointment just moments ago. Torrie’s request hadn’t been outrageous, had it? It’s not like she couldn’t share a few moments with Torrie in her room, to talk about the week and its successes, to wish each other well, to part friends. They’d spent time alone before and nothing had happened. What was she afraid of, after all? That Torrie would force her into something? That she would have to fight her off? That she wouldn’t be able to say no? You’re being ridiculous, Grace. Cowardly and foolish and rude.
Grace hastily put her shoes back on, arriving at Torrie’s room a few minutes later. Torrie looked astonished to see her. Shocked more like, and it was almost laughable, seeing her mouth drop and her eyes widen, as though Grace were some ghostly apparition. Yes, I’m actually here, Grace wanted to say, but she only smiled and held her hands up as if to ask for forgiveness.
“Come in,” Torrie said in a rush. She poured them a bra
ndy without asking, her hands trembling a little when she handed Grace her glass.
“Thanks,” Grace murmured, taking a sip. The liquid was fiery in her throat before settling warmly in her belly. It calmed her instantly.
“I’m glad you came by, Grace.”
“You didn’t think I would, did you?”
Torrie laughed. “There wasn’t much there to misread. You were pretty clear.”
“I was. But you didn’t expect me to change my mind.”
“No. Why did you?”
Grace swallowed more brandy and wished she hadn’t directed the conversation this way. Torrie was sitting back on the sofa patiently, her good arm lazily slung over the back, the other cradling her drink. Her bow tie was gone, along with her jacket, and the top two buttons of her dress shirt were undone. Grace thought she looked even more dashing this way, if that were possible—all casual butch sexiness. The woman exuded sex appeal without even trying. But then, Torrie probably knew that. In fact, she’d probably perfected the look over the years, so that it now came off as effortless.
Grace swallowed the dry lump in her throat and decided to be honest. “I’m not sure.”
Torrie sat up straighter, as though her senses had suddenly sharpened. “You’re not?”
Grace shook her head once. “Not really. I guess maybe I thought I owed it to you.”
Torrie looked puzzled, then perturbed. “Owed it to me? As in being polite? Or paying off a debt? What?”
“No. I…” Grace faltered. Things weren’t coming out the way she meant them to. The room was warm, closing in on her, and Torrie, dammit, looked so goddamned provocatively enticing. Maybe she’d really just wanted to test herself by coming here. See if she could resist the charms of Torrie Cannon one last time. See if she was immune to the growing attraction between them, as though she could toss it off as easily as she was tossing off her brandy.
“What do you want, Grace?” Torrie asked pointedly.
Grace set her empty glass down. Confusion and misgivings gave way to indignation. “Why do you think everything is so easy, Torrie? So black and white?”
Torrie shrugged indifferently. “It can be if you let it.”
Grace stood. “Not everything is a game, you know. Not everything in life has a list of rules and a winner and a loser at the end of the day.”
Torrie stood too, her lips pursed. “I’m sorry, Grace. I’m not trying to offend you. I’m really not, but I seem to a lot, don’t I?”
Grace strode toward the door. She was no longer angry with Torrie, no more than she was with herself. But she needed to leave, needed to end this growing attraction between them. She didn’t need more complications in her life right now. Her back against the door, she turned to face Torrie, who too easily seemed to be able to push her emotional buttons. “Look, Torrie, you don’t offend me. And I’m not pissed off, okay? It’s just this isn’t a very good time for me in my life right now. Endings seem to be where I’m at, not beginnings.”
Torrie looked confused for a moment, started to say something, then stopped. She stepped closer to Grace. She took a deep breath, then let it out heavily as if she were expelling a great disappointment. “Then I guess it’s good-bye.”
“Yes,” Grace croaked, feeling less sure the closer Torrie got. Her legs trembled, and then Torrie’s arms suddenly snapped around her waist, supporting her with firm gentleness. Grace melted into Torrie’s strength, her hands clutching her biceps, then her shoulders and back, as their bodies fused into a slow embrace. Torrie was both soft and solid, her hand drawing tiny, tender circles over Grace’s exposed back. Torrie was much more tender than Grace had expected, her touch far more electrifying than Grace had imagined. Goose bumps broke out on her arms and chest as her pulse quickened. Oh God, this could be dangerous.
Torrie’s warm cheek was brushing hers, Torrie’s hot breath tickling her ear, and more pleasurable shivers raced through Grace. She needed to say or do something to stop this. She was trying to form the words of rejection in her mind, but it was like cream that kept separating from the sauce. Her thoughts refused to coalesce.
Torrie’s lips were against her ear, nuzzling, almost kissing her. “You’re driving me crazy, Grace.” Her voice was husky with desire and urgency. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our conversations, about your eyes when you’re annoyed with me, about your mouth when you laugh at something I say. The way you move—so sexy, so confident. The way you smell.” The velvety lips brushed just beneath Grace’s jaw, and Grace tilted her head back to accommodate the soft kisses. “Oh, God, and the way you feel, Grace.”
Grace gasped in pleasure and shock. She knew Torrie had the hots for her, but not like this—so tender and romantic, reverent almost. Torrie’s touch, and the feel of her arms around her and her body against her, was so much more powerful and sensual than Grace was prepared for. In quiet moments before sleep the last couple of nights, Grace had lain in bed and imagined sex with Torrie as rough and hurried, animal-like in intensity, Torrie’s hands and mouth impatiently eliciting and demanding things from Grace. She’d dreamed it would be a hot, hasty and fevered seduction, not soft and sensitive and slow like this. Oh, God! Grace grew achingly wet as fingertips fluttered against her thigh, inching her dress up just a little. No, this was far worse than a quick, fevered roll in the sack. This was far harder to jettison from her conscience. This near torture would be impossible to forget.
“Torrie,” Grace mumbled, wanting it and not wanting it to end. “I can’t.” She knew she didn’t sound very convincing, her heart pounding its consent while her mind cried out a shrill warning.
Torrie’s breathing was ragged against her exposed throat. A well-muscled thigh moved between Grace’s legs, and Grace leaned back hard against the door for support, moaning softly. She thought she’d stopped breathing, she was so turned on, and then she surprised herself by raising a trembling hand and guiding Torrie’s mouth to her own. More than anything right now, she needed to kiss Torrie, and Torrie enthusiastically welcomed the invitation. Her lips, soft and skilled, kissed Grace back with a tenderness that quickly turned spirited. They were both breathing hard, their bodies moving against one another, their mouths fused in undeniable desire. The kiss went on, along with the pressure from Torrie’s thigh and the fluttering caresses on Grace’s leg. Fingers teasingly inched higher, so close to her drenched panties now, maybe an inch away. An inch away from a feathery touch, a slow, agonizing stroke. Grace knew she was close to exploding, and the thought of coming right there against the door, against Torrie’s thigh, both repulsed and excited her beyond reason. She did and didn’t want it this way, with a woman she hardly knew and was on the verge of never seeing again.
“Wait,” Grace said, pulling back forcefully. It took all her willpower to do it. “Please, Torrie. I can’t.”
Torrie stilled herself, hitching her breath one last time. “Why not, Grace? I like you so much. I want you so much.”
“I just…I can’t…do this. I’m sorry.”
Blue eyes, inky with hurt and disappointment, probed Grace. “Are you with someone?”
“No. I just can’t get involved.” Grace wanted to explain, but she was ashamed of her affair with Aly. Ashamed to be carrying around this private pain for a woman who didn’t love her enough to want to be with her. Torrie would never understand.
Torrie grinned wickedly. “I don’t even know how to get involved, Grace. I want to make love to you, not marry you.”
The words slammed into Grace like a hurled stone crashing into a pond, shocking at first, slowly reverberating outward. It was Aly all over again. Good enough to fuck but not to be with. Well, she’d had it with loveless sex, with getting off treated like some sort of necessary bodily function. All self-gratification and no substance—as fulfilling as a money transaction or remittance. No. She would wait for someone who mattered, for someone who wanted to be with her. She would not repeat her past mistakes.
With her hand on Torrie’s chest, G
race firmly pushed her away.
Over breakfast the next morning, Grace tried to ignore the shadow of a hangover. She rubbed her temples between bites of scrambled egg.
“Rough night?” Trish teased.
“I could ask you the same,” Grace shot back.
Trish shrugged cryptically.“I’m only asking because I noticed you and a certain tall, dark and handsome golfer disappear last night at about the same time.”
Grace ground her molars briefly against the dull ache in her temples, wishing last night had never happened. She was glad she’d left Torrie’s room when she had, before things had gotten completely out of hand. She had taken control of the situation the way she had to, though the look of hurt and confusion on Torrie’s face when she’d pushed her away still tugged faintly at her, like fragments of a dream that kept resurfacing. She should never have kissed Torrie, given her all the wrong messages, letting her think casual sex was a possibility.
“Regrets…I’ve had a few?” Trish sang, grinning.
Grace gave her a withering look. “What? There’s nothing to talk about.”
Trish stuck out her tongue. “You never want to talk about the good stuff anymore.”
Grace groaned. “Can’t we just go back to the days where we barely talked and just did nothing but work our asses off?”
“No way. This is more fun.” Trish sipped her coffee, regarding Grace seriously over the ceramic rim. “Are you okay, Gracie? Did something happen with Torrie last night?”
Grace stalled, knowing it was impossible to explain her conflicting emotions last night—how she could go from being so incredibly turned on to so easily putting the brakes on her desire. How she could just walk away from one of the hottest make-out sessions she’d ever had. She squeezed her thighs together under the table, the memory undeniably making her throb all over again. “No. Not really. Same story all week. Girl keeps trying to seduce girl, but girl not interested.”
Trish had to know there was plenty Grace wasn’t saying. “Whatever you say, Grace. But there’s something more between the two of you than that.”