Side Order of Love

by Unknown

  Catie lowered her voice to a whisper. “It is not. I saw the way she looked at you when we came in.”

  Torrie shrugged. What the hell did Catie know? Grace had probably given up trying to figure her out. Hell, she couldn’t even figure herself out anymore, how she could go from being such a womanizer to the lovesick pile of mush she’d become. And to throw up her hands and say she needed more time. Christ! Of course Grace was going to think she had no clue what she wanted, that she was fickle and emotionally immature.

  Torrie turned toward the fading sun over the ocean. The waves were short and made rhythmic lapping noises against the shore. It was hypnotic and soothing. She sipped her beer, wishing desperately to make things right with Grace because she could not walk away. She did not want to give up, not without exploring what lay between them. In a dream just last night, they were making a life together, even talking about having a family together. Torrie had laughed to herself about it when she woke up, especially the part about having a family together, but maybe, she thought now, the concept wasn’t so far-fetched. Perhaps it had been there as a simmering need all along, that had somehow shifted and risen to the top since meeting Grace.

  Grace as my wife. Grace as a mother to our children. She gasped loudly, her chest painfully clenching with a yearning so great and so sudden, she couldn’t breathe.

  “You okay, Tor?”

  “Yeah,” Torrie croaked and suddenly bolted for the door. She needed a splash of cool water on her face.

  When she emerged from the bathroom, Catie and Trish were on the deck together, drinking their beers, laughing, touching each other as though by accident. Grace was in the kitchen, her back to Torrie, in front of the oven. Torrie waited only a beat or two before she strode purposefully to Grace. It might be her only chance to get her alone tonight, and she would not wait any longer to find out her fate. Their fate.

  She halted at the sight of Grace bent over the open oven door, stirring some hashed brown potatoes that were browning crisply. Her long, form-fitting khaki shorts made her ass look spectacular—so round and tight that Torrie wanted to shove herself against it, feel its firmness tight up against her thighs and crotch.

  Stop it, Torrie, just stop it!

  Grace spun around and made a little noise of surprise, letting go of the oven door. It slammed back into place with a loud rattle.

  “Hi,” Torrie managed.

  Grace smiled tentatively, her eyes probing Torrie, her head quirked in silent question. There was no sign of hostility, only curiosity.

  “Grace. I’m sorry about the other day. About—”

  “It’s okay, Torrie,” Grace said gently. If she was surprised Torrie had brought it up so quickly, she didn’t show it.

  Was it really okay? Torrie didn’t think so. She wanted Grace to understand, to forgive her and say they could start again. “No, it’s not. I let you down.”

  Grace seemed to be gathering her thoughts in her stillness. Or maybe she was just trying to come up with a way to let Torrie down gently. “You didn’t let me down, Torrie,” she finally said. “I respect you. You were scrupulous and sensitive and you did the right thing. It was right that we didn’t…”

  Say it, say it.

  “…make love.”

  “I wanted to.” I still want to, Torrie failed to add. More than ever. The thought of Grace’s body and what she wanted to do with it burned hot in her mind, the way bright sun remains imprinted even behind closed eyelids.

  “So did I.” A gentle heat was glowing from Grace, and Torrie hoped it wasn’t from the oven.

  “I care for you, Grace. I don’t want you to ever think I’m using you.”

  “Oh, Torrie.” Grace reached up and softly traced a finger along Torrie’s jawline, and the touch made Torrie’s legs quiver. She’d never known a woman’s touch to do that to her, to make her feel so alive and scared and so full of hope, all at the same time.

  “Hearing you say that means everything to me,” Grace continued in a quavering voice.

  Torrie’s mouth met Grace’s in a simple, sweet union of soft, yielding lips that spoke of so much more, of holding hands on a lonely beach, of softly touching during sleep, of shared smiles and stolen looks. There were a thousand memories of things yet to happen in that kiss, and yet there was something incendiary lurking there too. Torrie knew that if she parted her lips just a little, pressed her tongue against Grace’s mouth a tiny bit, moved her hands up just a notch, they’d have a hard time stopping. Even now, her heart raced like she’d just sprinted a mile. This is what it’s like to be in love, she told herself, deepening the kiss even more, and the revelation thrilled her.

  “Okay, you two,” Trish said with a lilt in her voice. “Break it up or I’ll have to get the fire extinguisher out.” She swatted Grace affectionately. “You know how I feel about fires in the kitchen.”

  Torrie, laughing, pulled away from Grace. She leaned in and gave her one last, quick kiss. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

  Grace flushed a shade deeper and gave a little gasp. She beamed at Torrie, her pleasure evident. “Thanks.”

  “Why don’t you keep that cousin of yours busy on the deck while we finish up here?” Trish said.

  “Sure, if it means it’ll make dinner faster.” Torrie smiled at them both, but it was Grace her eyes tried to devour. “I’m starving.”

  “I’m so glad,” Grace said, her voice low and sexy, and Torrie wanted to press herself against her again.

  “Run along, now,” Trish said, turning to Grace with a conspiratorial giggle.

  Torrie, feeling so light she had no idea how her feet were staying on the ground, rejoined her cousin and took a long, satisfying gulp of beer.

  “Taking a celebratory drink?”

  Torrie regarded Catie, knowing she couldn’t possibly wipe the smile off her face right now. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe my ass.” Catie laughed. “I take it you’ve kissed and made up?”

  “Something like that.”

  The food followed, and it was a veritable orgy of Southern cuisine—fried chicken, corn bread, hashed brown potatoes and a salad Torrie couldn’t quite decipher.

  “What’s in this?” Torrie asked.

  “It’s Grace’s creation,” Trish said. “Arugula with watermelon and feta.”

  “Wow,” Torrie said, happy for another excuse to keep her attention on Grace. “It’s incredible.” You’re incredible.

  “With the feta and the watermelon, I wanted something sweet and salty at the same time.” Grace spoke over the rim of her beer glass, looking suggestively at Torrie. The desire there was unmistakable beneath the mischief.

  A flash of heat surged through Torrie so intense it forced her back into her chair for support. She was suddenly wet and aching, her breath coming in little bursts, and she knew that if she didn’t get hold of herself, she would unapologetically drag Grace off to the nearest bedroom and ravage her within earshot of their friends. Screw the fact that she wanted to be sure their feelings for one another were mutual before they made love. The future was the furthest thing from her racing thoughts and pounding heart right now. Waiting was purely an academic term, and one she wanted no part of at the moment.

  Speechless, Torrie knew her mouth was open. She just hoped she wasn’t drooling.

  “Sweet and salty’s good,” Catie chimed in, giving her own little look to Trish.

  “Woo-eee! I think it’s getting a little hot out here,” Grace said, laughing. “I think it’s time for some mint juleps. Which of you southern belles would like to help me make them?”

  Catie jumped up first, beating Torrie to it. “I will.”

  They all cleared the table, Torrie sneaking a few scraps to Remy. Catie and Grace stayed inside to mix the drinks, and Torrie idly wondered what they were talking about.

  Trish cleared her throat noisily. “Grace told me you know about Aly.”

  Torrie contained her surprise that she was about to get the friendly don’t-hurt-my-friend spee
ch, and it gave her new respect for Trish. She was happy Grace had someone watching her back. “She did.”

  “She’s a little vulnerable right now, Torrie. I don’t think she’s ready to—”

  “It’s okay, Trish. I have no intention of hurting Grace. Ever.”

  “Ever?” Trish seemed to grasp the longevity of Torrie’s intentions, and while she looked a little surprised at first, she seemed pleased.

  “Ever,” Torrie repeated. “And I want her to take all the time she needs. I can’t wait, but at the same time, I can. I don’t want to wreck this, Trish.”

  Trish nodded crisply. “I understand.” The silence between them lengthened as they sipped what was left of their beers. Finally, Trish said quietly, “Aly was just wrong for Grace on so many levels. I just want her to be—”

  Catie and Grace began clattering their way onto the deck with a tray of drinks, and Torrie shared a final look of acknowledgment with Trish. They understood each other, their silent pact being Grace’s happiness. Torrie knew she’d made an ally of Trish.

  The four of them watched the last of the setting sun over their mint juleps, and then Trish slipped away to retrieve a birthday cake she’d hidden somewhere inside. She’d made it at Connie’s house so Grace wouldn’t suspect.

  Grace shook her head as they sang “Happy Birthday,” shooting invisible daggers at Trish, but she threw her head back and laughed like a kid after she missed extinguishing almost half of the forty candles.

  Torrie came to her rescue, blowing out the rest. “Did you make a wish, Grace?”

  Grace gave her a secret little smile that ignited Torrie’s imagination. “I did.”

  It was getting late, and Torrie began gathering her things after they caught Catie and Trish necking over the kitchen sink, their task of drying dishes long forgotten.

  Torrie turned to Grace with a wink. “I think these two need some time alone before we witness something I really don’t want to see.”

  Grace nodded her agreement.

  “Walk me home?” Torrie whispered.

  “I’d love to.” She yelled at Trish across the room. “Don’t wait up for me. And keep an eye on Remy.”

  Trish waved her off without breaking from Catie, and Torrie and Grace headed for the door without a glance back.

  The air had cooled and Torrie, who must have noticed Grace shivering, dutifully slipped her arm around her shoulders, instantly warming her.

  “Looks like Catie and Trish are picking up from where they left off a few years ago,” Torrie said.

  “They’re both big girls. I just hope the house is still in one piece when I get back.”

  At Connie’s, Torrie invited Grace in and offered her a drink. Neither was ready for the evening to end yet, though Grace was keenly aware of the danger and delight of being alone with Torrie. Her skin prickled.

  “Actually, I think I’ve had enough to drink for one night. Those mint juleps were potent!”

  “How does Perrier sound?”

  Grace settled into the couch, feeling instantly at home surrounded by Connie’s art and the worn, comfortable furniture. “Perrier sounds perfect.”

  When Torrie returned with their drinks, it was as if she couldn’t decide whether to sit beside Grace or keep some distance between them. She hesitated, then started for an armchair until Grace patted the couch beside her.

  “I’m not sure I can get used to you like this.”

  “Like what?” Torrie asked innocently.

  Grace enjoyed seeing Torrie a little rattled, knowing it was so unlike her. The fact that Grace had the power to do that reassured her that Torrie’s feelings for her ran deep. Torrie finally relented and sat beside Grace, their thighs just inches away.

  “Kind of shy,” Grace said.

  “Well, don’t get too used to it. I’m still a tiger underneath.” She gave a playful growl and Grace laughed long and deep, yearning to kiss Torrie the way they’d kissed in the kitchen hours earlier.

  They sat in silence for several minutes, sipping their water, and Grace unsure of what should happen next. She knew she wanted to make love with Torrie—her body certainly reminded her often enough of that. But Torrie had been right the other day, that it was too soon for them. She didn’t want to lead Torrie on, nor did she want to try to her push herself to give more than she was capable of right now. Perhaps, she considered, she should say goodnight and leave. She was sure she could find earplugs somewhere at Trish’s.

  “Hey.” Torrie broke into her thoughts, her smile bursting with a secret. “I found out your middle name.”

  “I’m sure that took you about ten seconds to Google.”

  “No, not that middle name. Your second middle name.”

  Grace gasped. She never used that name, the one her parents gave her in honor of her older sister who’d died of SIDS at the age of two months. Even Aly had never bothered to find out the name she’d managed to keep so private.

  “How did you find out?”

  “Catie got it from Trish for me. So. Grace Margaret Kristen Wellwood. How come you never use Kristen? It’s a nice name.”

  Grace didn’t want to talk about the sister she’d never known, her lonely childhood. Not tonight. “I guess I wanted to keep something about myself private.”

  “Yeah. I can understand that. My official bio has my birthday off by one day. That way, I can have the day to myself if I choose to. I don’t get inundated with the two hundred e-mails and phone calls until the day after.”

  “That’s rather clever of you.” Grace’s smile faded quickly.

  “Is everything okay, Grace?” Torrie asked. “Is something bothering you?”

  Grace gave a tiny, inadequate smile. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t really, but she would be. Life had a way of sorting itself out, especially now that she had the conviction to live her life more honestly. “I guess we should talk, shouldn’t we?”

  “All right.” Torrie fidgeted a little, the bob in her throat betraying her nervousness.

  “Torrie.” Grace took a calming breath. It was important to lay out her feelings. It was what Torrie wanted, after all, for them to explore how they felt, what they wanted. “There are so many things I want to give you right now.”

  “There are?”

  Grace suppressed a smile. “Yes, there are.” Oh, yes. And it would be so easy to. She cast her gaze over Torrie, enjoying the mix of worry and excitement in her eyes, the slight tension in her muscular frame, as if she were poised for some sort of battle. Her strong hands clenched and unclenched in her lap, and Grace loved how Torrie wore her emotions. She did not want to hurt her, or even disappoint her, but there were things right now that Grace needed to give to herself. Mostly, permission to love herself, but also permission to identify and accept what she needed in her life. Permission too to be selfish in an entirely different way than she’d been with Aly, where selfishness meant shirking responsibility.

  “What kind of things?” Torrie pressed.

  Grace did smile this time. “Oh, Torrie. You are so wonderful.” She swallowed and tried to speak around her burgeoning emotions. If there was anyone she would like to fall in love with right now, it was Torrie. “I want to give you everything, but I can’t right now. I can’t give you my heart.” It’s too soon. But I would like to. Some day.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

  “But you deserve so much more, Torrie. You deserve someone who can give you everything you want. And I’m not ready to do that.”

  Torrie placed her hand on Grace’s thigh. Her fingers were warm and solid, but also soft and tender on her cotton shorts. “Grace, I want you so much. I know you’re still hurting, and that’s okay. I won’t push you. I won’t try to make you say things you’re not ready to say, or do things you’re not ready to do.”

  Torrie’s fingers were lightly circling Grace’s thigh, and it was like throwing white gas on burning embers. Her desire was so close to igniting, and she knew it was dangerous. She would not be able to
say no if Torrie kept it up.

  “You were right to say we should wait,” Grace said, her body fighting her words. Dammit. Why did the words have to be so incongruous with what her aching body needed right now?

  “Grace.” Torrie’s mouth was suddenly near her throat, her breath delicately tickling Grace’s sensitive flesh. “Let me love you. Please. I don’t want to wait for that.”

  Grace’s breath left her in a rush. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and without permission, her head tilted back, exposing more of her flesh to Torrie. Soft lips brushed her throat, her collarbone, and Grace silently screamed for Torrie to touch her.

  “Stay with me tonight,” Torrie whispered in her ear.

  Grace swallowed hard and tried to find her voice. “But I thought…”

  “I can’t go slow, Grace. I want you now. However much of you I can have.”

  Her hand had crept up Grace’s inner thigh, leaving a blazing trail of sweet, prickling desire in its wake. “But…” Oh, hell. What was she thinking, protesting, hesitating? Perhaps love was overrated after all, because she could think of nothing but Torrie’s hands on her, Torrie’s mouth devouring her. Being lost in Torrie’s body. Merging their hot, furious, slick desire. She’d warned Torrie she couldn’t give her all of her, and yet Torrie still wanted her. Maybe that was enough.

  Her voice strangled with lust, Grace said the only words that mattered right now: “Yes, Torrie.”

  Their mouths found each other with a hard urgency that awed Grace, their lips pressing like they might bruise each other, as though it were a kiss they’d waited their whole life for. Grace moaned as Torrie’s hand slid higher up her thigh, her fingers brushing fleetingly where the seams of Grace’s shorts met. Grace sucked in her breath, feeling dizzy under the weight of her own crushing desire. Torrie’s hand gently cupped her, then stroked her through the thick cotton, dancing an invisible pattern over her throbbing center. She pushed back into Torrie’s hand, tentatively at first, then much more demandingly. Torrie palmed her roughly, stroked her lightly, hinted with her flicking tongue on her throat what might happen next.