Wild Shores

by Radclyffe

  “Somehow you made me stop thinking about balance and…and comfort.” Gem nodded as if in sudden understanding. “That’s it, I think. I don’t want to be comfortable around you.” Her eyes brightened. “I want to be a little crazy. Which I guess I was.”

  Austin swallowed, urgency coiling in the pit of her stomach. “If it helps, you’re not alone. You make me pretty crazy too.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” Gem asked, as much to herself as Austin.

  “What do you think?” Austin sensed they were talking about the future as much as the past, and she had to let Gem decide if the kiss was something to risk repeating. She couldn’t voice her own desires, not this time. Not with this woman.

  “I wish I knew.” Gem sighed. “I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “Do you have to understand it?”

  “I don’t know. I think so. I’m usually careful, cautious. I don’t leap before I look, hard and long. At least, that’s who I’ve been for the last eight or nine years at least.”

  “And before that?”

  A pained expression flickered across Gem’s face. Her eyes darkened again. “Before that I was young and naïve and impressionable. Some might say stupid.”

  “All of those things go along with being young, don’t they?”

  “Were you ever young and stupid?”

  “Careless,” Austin said immediately. “Reckless. Risk-taking. So, yeah, stupid fits.”

  “Have you ever done anything you knew in your heart wasn’t what you wanted, but you did it anyway?”

  “I don’t know.” Austin blew out a breath, looked inward. “I’m not sure I know what’s in my heart.” She searched Gem’s face. “But I can’t imagine you’ve done anything you can’t forgive yourself for.”

  “Forgiveness is a panacea for some ills that shouldn’t be masked.” Gem’s mouth set into a hard line. “I don’t believe that forgive and forget is always the best course. Sometimes we have to remember so we don’t repeat our mistakes.”

  A chill doused the fire kindling in Austin’s belly. “What can’t you forgive?”

  Gem was quiet for so long Austin knew she’d overstepped.

  “I’m sorry.” Austin held up a hand. “That’s really personal, and being locked up in a car with me for a day doesn’t make us close enough for me to ask—”

  “I kissed you, remember?”

  “Oh yeah, I remember.” The heat surged back, a hunger in Austin’s depths that refused to be silenced. “I remember kissing you back too. And if it makes any difference, I’ve been thinking a lot about doing it again.”

  “So have I. So I think that gives you the right to ask. I don’t have to answer, after all.”

  “You’re right, you don’t. Your secrets are yours.”

  “I was married,” Gem said abruptly.

  “You must have been young.” Austin wasn’t as surprised to learn that Gem had been married as she was to learn she wasn’t any longer. She couldn’t imagine anyone letting Gem go.

  “Nineteen. He was my high school boyfriend—more than that really. Our families were close. We’d known each other all our lives. He was my best friend growing up, and it just always seemed a given that’s what we would do.”

  “Sometimes when we’re young we don’t question what we want or why we think we want things,” Austin said. “And it sounds like the two of you had something.”

  “I loved him,” Gem said musingly. “A certain kind of love, at least, and I wanted that to be enough. Even when there were times I thought maybe it wasn’t.”

  When Gem hesitated, Austin retrieved the wine bottle and poured another inch into Gem’s glass, giving her a chance to decide to keep talking or not.

  “Thanks.” Gem picked up her glass. “We’d been married about three years, I guess, when I couldn’t keep pretending everything was all right. I was applying to graduate school and Paul to law school. Of course we were trying to find a way to stay in the same location if possible.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure on any relationship.”

  “That’s what I thought too, when things started feeling…off. We weren’t communicating, and the sex…well, the sex—” Gem shrugged. “Let’s say it went from not great to not much at all. At first I minded, because I missed the connection, but not enough to push the issue.”

  “You didn’t have any experience with women?”

  Gem sighed. “I didn’t have any experience with anyone except Paul. For a long time I thought it was me, not doing something right or not reading the signals correctly—but he kept saying everything was fine—and finally I stopped asking.”

  “Until…” Austin said gently.

  “Right. Until he suggested we needed to explore the boundaries of our relationship. That it would be good for us, individually and as a couple.”

  Austin gritted her teeth. If she had Gem, she’d never want anyone else to touch her. She forcibly relaxed and kept her voice level. “He wanted to open up the relationship?”

  “Yes. Or rather, sort of,” Gem said bitterly. “He had someone specific in mind. Someone we both knew. One of my best friends, as a matter of fact.”

  “That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “No, it was surprisingly easy. Christie, that was…is…her name, had always thought Paul was terrific. The perfect guy, she used to say. She was always looking for someone just like Paul.”

  “Did you have feelings for her, besides friendship?”

  Gem drained her wineglass and, when Austin reached for the bottle, covered the top with her hand. She couldn’t quite believe she was admitting all of this. She’d never even told Kim the whole story, and God, they were involved. But Kim had never asked, and she’d never been shaken out of her comfort zone enough to want to revisit any of it. Austin shook her up, all right. One simple kiss had her reeling, more than three years of dating Kim had ever done. “No, I’m good. Really. I can talk about this sober.”

  “I don’t think one full glass is going to impair you.”

  “I know.” Gem smiled. “I am kind of a lightweight, though. I’m good.”

  “Okay.” Austin set the bottle aside.

  “So, Christie.” Gem met Austin’s gaze, read acceptance there. Thankfully not pity or disappointment. “My feelings for Christie were pretty complicated. As I said, she was one of my friends, probably my best friend from freshman year on. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and loyal. I never admitted any kind of attraction to myself, but whenever I wanted to talk or needed to feel understood, she was the one I called. Not Paul.”

  “Paul must have known she’d be a safe choice, especially if you had reservations.”

  “Oh, I’m sure that was part of it.” Gem grimaced. Paul had been far more perceptive than she’d been when it came to her feelings for Christie. Just another one of her many blind spots. “Whatever else he thought, he was right about that.”

  “So the three of you…”

  “The three of us. Yes. After I told Christie what Paul had suggested, I thought we’d laugh it off. But she didn’t laugh. She said she liked the idea, that she’d always wanted to be closer to both of us.” Gem rubbed the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes for a second. Why could she still remember the glow in Christie’s eyes when she’d said that, long after the excitement she’d felt then had turned to acid? “I remember her saying she could get into the idea, and the strangest feeling came over me. Excitement, different than anything I’d ever known. She said she wanted to be closer to both of us, but what I heard was she wanted to be closer to me. And for the first time, I realized that I wanted to be closer to her too.”

  “And you blame yourself for misreading things?”

  “I blame myself for trusting Christie and for letting Paul’s needs dictate mine.” Gem swallowed the bitterness clawing at her throat. She would not let the past ambush her again. “I don’t think twenty-four hours passed before the three of us were…well, I don’t think I have to spell that out. I knew the second I kiss
ed her why everything had always seemed just a little bit off with Paul. It wasn’t him, it was me after all.”

  “Gem,” Austin said gently, “most of us are raised to think we’re heterosexual. Sometimes it takes a while to sort out expectation from desire.”

  “I know. That’s not what bothered me. What bothered me was that I’d gotten myself into that situation because I’d been totally wrong about the man I married. He wanted Christie, not an open relationship with me. Oh, I should probably mention they’re married now.”

  Austin winced. “Sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Divorcing Paul was one of the only things about the whole mess she didn’t regret. “I certainly don’t want to be married to him and didn’t, from about the next morning on. I left him a few days later, after the second or third time we’d all been together. I might’ve been naïve and ignored all the signals up until that time, but I couldn’t ignore what was happening between them. And I couldn’t ignore the way I felt physically about being with Christie.”

  Gem sat back while the waitress deposited their dinners. She drew a deep breath and discovered she felt amazingly good. Pissed-off still, but the anger only fueled her resolve to never take anything or anyone at face value again. She’d learned an important lesson that had kept her life uncomplicated and her heart securely locked away.

  “And since then you’ve been on that even keel you mentioned?” Austin said.

  “Let’s just say since then I’ve made it a point not to act on impetuous impulses. Until today.”

  “That’s a pretty good record. What, six or seven years?”

  “Seven years, ten months.” Gem smiled and broke off a piece of bread from the warm loaf in the breadbasket. “I like to know what I am doing and what I’m getting into before I commit to a course of action. I’ve been happy, comfortable, living that way. You derailed my train a little bit.”

  “You’ve pretty much derailed mine too,” Austin admitted.

  “Should I apologize?”

  “No,” Austin said against all her better judgment. “I wouldn’t want to change a thing.”

  Gem glanced out the window. “We’ll be there in a few hours, won’t we.”

  “Looks like it.”

  Gem smiled, weariness setting in. She had every reason to be tired, but she didn’t think that was it. The road trip was coming to an end, and she had a secret: she didn’t want it to be over.

  Chapter Eight

  Gem pushed away her half-finished meal, swallowed the dregs of her wine, and placed the glass carefully on the carved wooden coaster decorated with a seashell. She blew out a breath. “I had no idea I was going to go there, and I think I should apologize. It’s probably way too much information at any point, but especially when we hardly—”

  “No, it’s fine. Well, not fine fine,” Austin said quietly, “but…” She wanted to tread carefully in the unfamiliar waters. Her emotions were rolling around like a buoy on a rough sea, tilting from one side to the other and occasionally going under altogether. Interpersonal revelations weren’t exactly her strong point. She didn’t think she’d ever had the kind of soul-baring conversation she’d just had with Gem—who in her past would’ve talked to her of something so deeply personal, so meaningful, so revealing? Not her goal-oriented, action-loving family—not her mother, with her cool, calculating surgeon’s brain able to assess any situation and act instantly, no regrets and no second guesses; not her father, the jocular daredevil, who loved to fly into danger and was bored whenever he wasn’t, but never talked about what it meant to face death on a daily basis; not her jock of a brother for whom skill, success, and celebrity came easily. If they’d suffered along the way to victory, they kept the pain, if it was there at all, buried even to themselves. And who would she have talked to if not family—certainly not the women with whom she had fleeting relationships, some more than one night, true, but none where a touch of compassion and understanding was valued more than heat and passion. She and Gem had shared one simple kiss and so much more. She was humbled to be trusted with so much, angry for the pain Gem had suffered, and helpless knowing she could do nothing about it. She cleared her throat. “I should confess right now that I’m really bad at this kind of thing.”

  Gem’s smile was a little rueful, a little amused. “This kind of thing being…?”

  “Touching when it’s not physical.”

  Gem caught her breath. Yes, that was exactly what had been going on between them most of the day. The kiss aside, they’d been touching, exploring, connecting, even when they hadn’t been physically close. No wonder she’d wanted to kiss her. The whole day had been a seduction, and the whole dating scenario had been turned on its head. “I know what you mean. It’s a little disconcerting how easy it’s been to…be with you.”

  Austin laughed. “Just a little.”

  “I know you’re going to be busy once you arrive at Rock Hill,” Gem said, tentatively feeling her way along an unfamiliar path. “But I suppose you have to eat at some point, get a little fresh air. You do surface now and then, don’t you?”

  “My schedule is pretty irregular,” Austin said. She couldn’t make any kind of plans. Best-case scenario, she’d have nothing to do and then she would happily spend a week or so relaxing in some little seaside hotel and getting to know Gem better. Or she could be sitting out on the ocean in a containment ship, getting no sleep and watching an oil spill spread toward land. “But I’d like to see you again, if it’s possible. Maybe I could call you?”

  “Sure, yes. That’s good for now, then.” Gem toyed with the empty wineglass. “It would probably be good to slow down and back up a little bit anyhow.”

  “As long as we don’t have to start the drive over again.”

  Gem laughed, appreciating Austin’s attempt to defuse the tension. “I can’t say I’ll mind getting to the end of this particular road trip. At least in some ways.” She touched Austin’s hand, remembered she’d just said they needed to back up a little, and pulled away. Mixed messages much? “Although I’m glad we had this day.”

  “Thanks. Me too.” Austin gathered up the bill the waitress left on their table and pulled out a credit card. “I suppose it’s time we took advantage of the break in the weather and got going.”

  “Yes. Give me a minute and I’ll be ready.” Gem rose and headed toward the rest rooms at the far end of the room.

  Austin signaled the waitress and checked her phone. Miracle of miracles, she not only had a signal, she had voice mail. Six of them, all brief and progressively more irritated messages from Eloise. The last being, Where the hell are you?

  She pressed call back on the last one. Even though it was well after seven and the last time they’d spoken had been three in the morning, Eloise picked up her office line on the second ring. Her greeting was terse. “I did stress there was some urgency to this job, didn’t I?”

  “Have you been watching the weather?”

  “Of course I’ve been watching the weather. Along with maritime reports, satellite projections of the storm’s trajectory, and hourly updates from the rig. Not to be repetitious, but where are you?”

  “About an hour and a half out. I got grounded in Baltimore and I’ve been driving all day, basically getting nowhere. Things have cleared here for the moment, so I ought to get in before ten.”

  “Good. Ray is waiting on the rig for you to call. As of an hour ago, the fog was too heavy for the birds to fly. You ought to be able to reach him by phone, though.”

  “We have a problem.”

  “Really?” Eloise’s cool voice was laden with sarcasm. She must be tired if she allowed that much emotion to show. “What exactly would that be, other than the obvious?”

  Austin signed the credit card slip the waitress left, keeping one eye on the far side of the room for Gem’s return. “This wildlife sanctuary isn’t just any wildlife sanctuary. It’s some pivotal point on the Atlantic Flyway.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “That’s a p
articular route that large numbers of endangered species travel this time of year.”

  “Why don’t I know about this?”

  “I don’t know,” Austin said. “Don’t you have people who research these things?”

  “I’m supposed to have,” Eloise said.

  Austin was very glad she wasn’t one of those people. “At any rate, it’s not only a locus for scientific research, but also tourism and bird watching. And I’ve never seen a birdwatcher who wasn’t a rabid environmentalist.”

  “How exactly did you get all of this information while you were out of touch? If you couldn’t answer my calls, I assume you couldn’t search the Internet.”

  “I’m actually traveling with the lead biologist who’s heading up a research team at the sanctuary.”

  The line went silent, one of the only times Austin had ever experienced Eloise to be wordless.

  “How did that happen?”

  “By chance. We ended up getting one of the last vehicles out of the airport—that’s not really important. What is important is that if we do have a spill, we’re going to be under a magnifying glass, even more so than normally.”

  “Then I’m glad we hired you.”

  The message was clear—Austin’s job was to keep the lens of public scrutiny focused somewhere other than on the company. “Right. What’s the status out on the rig?”

  “Ray says the breach hasn’t widened, and there’s no surface contamination at this point.”

  “So we’ve still got time.”

  “We’re bringing in the ships just in case. If we have to, we can burn, as long as the surface skim doesn’t get away from us.”

  “We’ll have to make a statement before we do that. We’re walking the line right now. Someone’s going to ask the question sooner or later as to when we first knew about the breach.”

  “We’re not required to report containable leaks.”

  “I know that’s the party line.”