by Radclyffe
Gard’s shoulders tightened. “Then you won’t have any reason to stay, will you?”
“I never intended to stay very long.”
“It must be nice to have life go according to plan.”
Jenna laughed humorlessly. “Oh, it must be. But I wouldn’t know.”
Gard pulled into the parking lot at Oscar’s. It might’ve been noon judging from the jammed lot, although on closer inspection almost all the vehicles were eighteen-wheelers. The farmers in their pickups wouldn’t show up for another couple of hours. Gard turned off the engine and jiggled the keys between her fingers. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not quite the country girl you think.” Jenna shifted around until her back was against the door. “I grew up in the country, but not on a farm—at a truck stop just off the turnpike. My father died in a motorcycle crash when I was three. My birth mother was never in the picture and his second wife, Darlene, kept me. She was a diner waitress, and later so was I. That’s what I was raised to be. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but unfortunately, Darlene tended to supplement her tips with some after-hours work. Work that she brought home with her. A trailer is a small place, and when I got older, it started to look like I might be on the menu soon.”
“Jesus, Jenna.” Gard’s eyes flashed darkly in the light from the diner’s glowing white neon sign.
“Oh, things never progressed that far, but Darlene definitely considered me bait for the kind of game she was hunting. That’s when I got out.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“You were on your own?”
“Yes. For the first few years. I managed to get some education, got into the city college, and turned what had always been my passion into something I could make a living at. I got lucky and met Alice when I was just getting started. She gave me a chance. She gave me a lot.”
“You love her.”
“Yes, I do,” Jenna said. “We’re not lovers. We never have been. It’s not right for us. I don’t love her that way.”
Gard’s brows drew down. “What way?”
“Desperately. Passionately. All-consumingly.”
“That’s how you see love?”
“Don’t you?”
Gard shook her head. “Once. Not anymore.”
“Are you ever going to tell me about her?”
“It’s an old story. I thought she loved me. She didn’t.” Gard yanked open her door and jumped down. “Let’s get breakfast.”
Jenna followed, absurdly pleased that Gard hadn’t said I loved her when she spoke about the woman who had obviously hurt her. Silly to be jealous. She’d never been jealous over a woman in her life. Of course, she hardly recognized half of what she was feeling these days. When had she become a stranger to herself? She nearly stumbled when she considered that the stranger might be the woman she’d been before arriving in Little Falls.
“Jen, you okay?” Gard grasped her hand.
“Yes,” Jenna said, instantly centered by Gard’s warm strength. “Yes. I’m just glad to be here.”
Gard rested her fingertips on Jenna’s cheek and lightly kissed her. “So am I.”
Jenna swayed toward her as naturally as the tide surging to the moon’s pull. She wanted another minute alone with her, under the stars, She wanted another kiss. “We should go inside.”
“I know.”
Gard slid an arm around Jenna’s waist and when they walked into Oscar’s, someone called, “Whoo-ee!” Jenna smiled.
*
Gard demolished her eggs, biscuits, and sausage automatically, much more interested in drinking Jenna in than what was on her plate. Making easy small talk—catching up on Jenna’s progress with her book, answering her excited questions about the foal’s future, telling her about the farmers market set up outside of town every Saturday morning—made the stone she’d been carrying around in the pit of her stomach disappear. Beneath the pleasure, though, she was always aware of time passing.
“Sun’s coming up,” Gard said as she and Jenna strolled back to the truck. “Tired?”
“Pleasantly.” Jenna flopped into the seat and dropped her head back against the seat. She looked relaxed, happy.
Gard had a hard time believing she was sitting across from Jenna at five o’clock in the morning when twenty-four hours before she’d pretty much convinced herself she was never going to see her again. Not the way they’d been together up on the mountainside. Not when Jenna had pulled back the minute she’d had a chance to think about what they’d done.
She was certain Jenna hadn’t been running from the sex—the sex had been incredible and they’d both pretty much said so. But Jenna had been clear about wanting simple and no strings. Maybe to her that meant one-time sex. Or hell, maybe she just wanted to spend her last few weeks in the country writing without the distraction of an affair. Whatever had put that wall up between them, she’d resigned herself to it. Or tried to.
The idea of never seeing Jenna again had been eating holes in her insides.
Then Dan had called and she knew, she just knew, that Jenna had to see the birth. All she’d been able to show her when she’d taken her around on field calls had been the dirty end of the job—hard work and sweat and suffering animals. She’d wanted to show her the beauty of her work too. And she just plain had to see her. It was crazy. Sure. But if she was going to hurt, why not hurt because of what she wanted, instead of what she wouldn’t let herself have? A few more hours with Jenna was all she was likely to get. So yeah, the hollow ache in the center of her chest when Jenna left for good was coming. But worth it all the same.
Gard started up the truck and headed out. “It sounds like you’ll have things squared away out at Birch Hill pretty soon. I guess you’ll be happy to go home.”
“Wait.” Jenna suddenly straightened.
Gard braked at the edge of the parking lot, her left blinker on, ready to head in the direction of Jenna’s house. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Everything. I’m not really sure.” Jenna slid over and stroked Gard’s jaw with the backs of her fingers. “I should’ve stayed away from you in the first place, but I didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have gone out with you last night, either, but the minute I saw you on the porch, the only place I wanted to be was with you.”
Gard caught Jenna’s hand and kissed her palm. “Then we both wanted the same thing. Maybe we should just leave it at that for now.”
“And next week? Next month—whenever I go?”
“Won’t be any worse than the way things have been. I couldn’t get you off my mind.” Gard pushed a hand through her hair. “I was glad for the night work because I couldn’t sleep anyways. We’re both adults. We both know the score.”
“What are you saying?”
“I feel good when I’m with you.”
“Oh God,” Jenna whispered. “So do I.”
Gard relaxed and pressed Jenna’s hand to her thigh. “So what do you say to a date Friday night?”
“A date.” Jenna laughed. “That sounds so old-fashioned. In a really nice way.”
“I guess it is. The Simpsons are having a barn-raising on Friday afternoon, followed by a barbecue and a barn dance. I got roped into going because Ida Simpson is my tech’s sister, and I promised Rob I’d go if he covered my hours this morning.”
“A barn dance. Is there actual dancing?”
Gard laughed. “There might be.”
Jenna stroked Gard’s leg, enjoying the way she laughed, the pleasure in her eyes. “And if we danced? Would there be a riot?”
“They survived us at Oscar’s just now. You’ll just need to behave.”
“Me? What about you?”
Gard gave her an innocent look. “I’m always the picture of decorum.”
“I don’t remember that being the case up on the mountain.”
“I had to have you or die.” Gard’s gaze raked down Jenna’s body.
Instantly breathless, Jenna quickened. �
��And now that you’ve had me, you’re not hungry anymore?”
“No,” Gard said, her voice low and rough. “Now I’m starving.”
“Are you.” Jenna refused to think about what she was doing. She always thought about what she was doing—about what she would wear, what she would read, how she would answer questions, what she would write and why. Her life had never been spontaneous, because uncertainty equaled danger. Her only comfort had been knowing exactly what each hour would bring. Whenever she was with Gard, she was never certain what she would say or do or feel. A terrifying feeling, but strangely freeing too. Gard pushed her to say more, do more, feel more than she wanted to, but she also made her feel safe, even when she was so exposed. “What should we do about that?”
“You know what I want,” Gard muttered, her teeth clenched. “What do you want?”
Jenna rubbed her thumb in the palm of Gard’s hand, pressing into the firm flesh, running her nail over the calluses. “I really don’t want you to take me home right now.”
Gard flicked her blinker up to signal a right turn and rocketed the truck out onto the highway. “Then I won’t.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Jenna was content to let the drive pass in silence, watching the countryside awaken as Gard drove through the dawn. A herd of deer raised their heads in the midst of a field of belly-high corn, ears flickering with curiosity as they passed. A spotted fawn nestled close to its mother, heartbreakingly beautiful in its fragile innocence. The green fields glistened with dew under the bright yellow sun, so fresh and untarnished Jenna was reminded of a time long ago when she had imagined her life as a similar sea of endless possibility. When had those possibilities become defined by the next deadline, the next book launch, the next award? She’d replaced personal happiness with professional success, and wondered if they really were mutually exclusive. As the melancholy stole in around the edges of her consciousness, she concentrated on the hard heat of Gard’s thigh under her palm and rubbed her hand along the seam of Gard’s pants until Gard grasped her wrist.
“Take it easy,” Gard said, her voice deep and mellow. “I’m driving here.”
“Am I bothering you?”
Gard shot her a look, her eyes smoky. “Oh yeah.”
Jenna smiled. “Sorry.”
“Bull.”
“Okay. Not sorry.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, why?”
“You look a little sad.”
“No,” Jenna said quickly, “far from it.” She hesitated, knowing she was on dangerous ground. She’d been the one wanting their pasts to stay in the past, but the more time she spent with Gard, the more she wanted to know her. Even more terrifying, the more she wanted to be known. “Have you ever wanted to go back? Back before everything changed, back before you stopped believing in happy endings?”
“Jenna,” Gard said softly, fitting their fingers together and rubbing the back of Jenna’s hand against her middle. “Until just a little while ago, happy didn’t figure into anything I ever thought I was going to be.”
“And now?”
Gard lifted their hands and kissed Jenna’s knuckles. “Right this minute I’m very happy.”
“So am I.” Happier than she dared think about. She’d loved sitting with Gard in the diner, sharing a private moment in the midst of all the activity. She never would’ve imagined that a simple meal could be so intimate. By the time they’d left the diner she was wet.
Jenna went back to stroking Gard’s thigh.
“You’re doing the distracting thing again,” Gard said.
“I think you’re tough enough to handle it.”
Gard laughed and slowed for a tractor pulling a hay wagon across the road. A mile or two farther on, Gard turned off the highway onto the dirt lane leading to her house. An ocean of corn seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere and extended as far as Jenna could see on either side.
“Do you farm this?” Jenna asked.
“I’d like to, but I don’t have the time. I lease it.” Gard pulled up in front of the house, put the truck in neutral, and turned in her seat. Beam raced around the side of the house, barking ecstatically. “Are you sure about this?”
“Quite sure.” Jenna turned off the ignition, pulled out the keys, and dropped them in Gard’s lap. Without waiting for Gard, she jumped out of the truck, scratched Beam’s ears, and ambled up the walkway to the house. Gard caught up to her and together they climbed onto the porch. She remembered talking to Rina out here, thinking at the time she’d only be passing through. So much had changed for her since then, more than she could ever have imagined. Gard watched her with a worried expression and she took her hand. “Remember last night when you wanted me to promise that I would stand exactly where you wanted me and not move?”
“I remember,” Gard said with a note of caution.
“Turnabout is fair play. Now you promise.”
Gard’s eyebrows went up. “All right.”
“Come inside then.”
Jenna opened the screen door, turned the brass knob on the heavy walnut door, and found it unlocked. She tugged Gard’s arm and they went inside. She didn’t hesitate but headed down the hall and directly up the stairs, only pausing when she reached the top. To the left was Gard’s bedroom, to the right the guest room where she had stayed. “Right or left?”
“Left,” Gard said instantly.
Jenna continued on, pleased with Gard’s choice. She wanted to be in Gard’s bedroom. In her bed. She didn’t want casual, she didn’t want quick or easy. She wanted to get inside Gard’s skin the way Gard was inside hers. Gard had seduced her on the mountainside, intentionally or not. She’d surrendered completely up there, and as much as she’d loved not being in charge, she regretted not showing Gard just exactly how much she’d wanted her. Now she intended to make that message very clear.
Gard’s bedroom was like the rest of the house, spacious and elegant. High beaten-tin ceilings, a huge four-poster bed, Craftsman dressers and armoire, floor-to-ceiling windows with sheer white curtains. The covers were pulled down on the bed, but there was no dent in the pillow, no wrinkles in the sheets. No one had slept in it and Jenna liked that too. She pulled Gard over to the side of the bed and then backed away from her.
“Watch,” she whispered. Reaching down, she grasped the hem of her T-shirt and slowly pulled it up and over her head. She let it drop behind her, smiling as Gard’s eyes widened, feeling her color rise as Gard’s gaze dropped from her face down her body. Her nipples rose and tightened. She unbuttoned her jeans, pushed down the zipper, and stepped out of them, getting rid of her shoes at the same time. She hadn’t worn any underwear while she’d been working at home and now she was naked. Gard sucked in a breath and Jenna’s belly quivered. At the touch of Gard’s hands on her waist, she nearly relented and gave up her plan of command. The slightest brush of Gard’s fingers made her wetter, and she wanted to collapse onto her back and pull Gard down on top of her. She wanted Gard over her, Gard’s fingers inside her, Gard’s mouth tormenting her nipples. She wanted to come for her. For her.
“No touching,” Jenna said.
“Jesus Christ.” Gard slid both hands up Jenna’s sides and tried to cradle her breasts, but Jenna pushed her arms away.
“I mean it.”
“You let me see you naked for the first time and I can’t touch?”
Gard made a very uncivilized sound and Jenna laughed. “You promised to stay where I put you and not move.”
“You tricked me.”
“You’ll live.” Jenna unbuttoned Gard’s shirt, one slow button at a time, and worked it down her shoulders. She bunched the cotton T-shirt underneath in her hands, jerked it free of Gard’s pants, and pulled it up and off. “Boots.”
Gard obeyed, toeing off her work boots and leaning down to yank off her socks. When she straightened, naked except for her jeans, Jenna clenched inside. “I get so wet just looking at you.”
“Let me have you,” Gard
demanded.
“Be patient.” Jenna ran her hands over Gard’s chest and cupped her small breasts. She lightly rubbed the pale tan nipples, her breath hitching when Gard’s stomach tightened, the squares of taut muscle popping between the etched furrows. Oh God, she wasn’t going to be able to wait. Had to taste her. Had to be in her heat. She pressed her breasts to Gard’s and kissed her.
The instant their tongues touched, Gard groaned and jerked Jenna close. Their bodies fused from breast to thigh and the rough cotton of Gard’s pants rubbed against the soft skin of Jenna’s belly. Jenna spread her legs to let Gard slide one thigh between her legs. She rolled her sex against Gard’s hard muscle until her clitoris pulsed on the edge of explosion. Dragging herself away from Gard’s mouth, she knelt on the thick Persian rug and gripped Gard’s ass to hold her in place. She’d left a wet spot on Gard’s pants. She liked that. She wanted to rub herself against Gard’s stomach and leave her scent everywhere. She brushed her mouth over Gard’s stomach instead, circling Gard’s navel with the tip of her tongue. Gard tried to open her fly, but Jenna quickly caught her hands.
“No.” She tugged the rim of Gard’s belly button with her teeth and licked downward until she reached the waistband of her jeans. She opened the top button, slid the zipper down partway, and worked her tongue lower.
“Come on, Jenna,” Gard whispered.
Smiling, Jenna shook her head. She sucked lightly on the satin-soft skin exposed by the vee of Gard’s open fly until Gard’s ass tightened and her hips jerked against Jenna’s mouth. Jenna’s thighs grew damp and her clitoris twitched and she was seconds away from begging Gard to slide her fingers inside her. Mustering her willpower, she stood and pressed her palms against Gard’s chest. Gard backed up, hit the bed, and fell backwards.
Instantly, Jenna straddled her, pinning her to the bed with both hands on her shoulders. “You weren’t supposed to move.”
“You pushed me.” Gard bucked her hips, forcing her crotch into Jenna’s swollen center. The pressure was exquisite and Jenna had to bite her lip not to cry out. She squeezed Gard’s shoulders harder.