by Jove Belle
“I’m sorry you had to leave Trina.”
KC shrugged. “She’s with Kendall. God knows she’s more capable than I am.” If Jackson knew what was good for him, he’d stay clear of Kendall.
“Good point.” They rolled past CVS, the only drugstore in town. “Do you need anything last-minute?”
“I’m good.”
Just past the CVS was Truvall Furniture and Appliance. KC waved to Glen, who looked to be leaving work for the evening. Shannon Lewis walked beside him and both returned the wave. Shannon, who worked for Glen, was a couple of years behind Trina in school and at twenty-two was earning a decent living selling TVs to aging men who liked to watch football on high-definition sets sold by a hot young blonde. KC agreed that all things looked better when a beautiful blonde was involved. Glen helped Shannon into the passenger seat of his Explorer.
“We should have left a little earlier. We’re going to hit afternoon traffic,” Emma observed.
She was right. It seemed every business in town released their employees onto the streets at once. Rush hour was a thing KC had very little personal experience with, one of the many benefits of telecommuting. She spotted Jackson’s Jeep as it pulled into the line of traffic a couple of blocks up, and her daddy passed her going the other way.
KC loved this town. She loved her life and the connection she shared with every other person in it, the way they were all woven together. Her affair with Lonnie threatened to unravel it all. She felt a rush of sadness. She’d been blinded by lust and very foolish with her lack of thought for others. Her friends and family deserved better.
“Why do you want to leave?” KC’d never asked Emma to explain her need to move away from Fairmont. She’d just accepted it.
“I don’t belong here.” Emma’s smile was sad and reflective. “Not since high school. I’m amazed you haven’t left.”
High school had been miserable for both of them. KC’d gone from high-school royalty to loser overnight when she came out. Sophomore year, Emma had stopped talking to her for months when she’d found KC panting beneath the bleachers with Traci Newman. She’d been half naked and well on her way to losing her virginity. Emma’s silence had been far worse than her fall from grace in the hierarchy of high-school popularity. She’d been exhausted. The work that went into creating a false image of herself—perfect boyfriend, perfect friends, perfect grades, perfect looks—was just too much. When her boyfriend accused her of being a frigid lesbian, she’d cracked and screamed the truth at him. The next day it was all over the school.
Thank God she’d reconciled with Emma, or she would have been alone through all of it. Emma had saved her from despair. It was a time in her life that KC worked hard to forget. She’d felt so lost, so out of control. She never wanted to feel that way again. When they got back from Austin, KC would try to talk to Leann again. No one deserved to go through that alone.
“There was a time when I couldn’t wait to get out of this town.” That was a large part of the reason she’d picked the University of Washington in Seattle. It was a good school and far away from Fairmont in every sense. Physically she couldn’t have gone much farther and still been in the continental United States. The big difference, however, was the social atmosphere. It was okay to be a young woman who loved other women. Seattle was where she found herself. “But I missed my family. I missed you. Fairmont is my home.”
“I wish I’d been a better friend back then.” Emma regretted running away from KC. She’d told her more than once. The pressure to fit in, to do the right thing, in their small Texas town, could be overwhelming. At the time KC hadn’t understood, but later, when Emma herself came out at UNLV, it made sense. She hadn’t wanted people to think she was gay by association, especially when they would have been right.
“I don’t think Leann will ever talk to me.” It was a hard truth for KC. She hated the thought that the girl was suffering alone and even more that her selfish actions had made it impossible for KC to offer the help Leann needed.
“Probably not.”
“Can you try?” It wasn’t exactly what Glen had asked of KC, but it was a better solution all around. Even without the extra layer of complication, Emma was a better listener than KC.
“I will.” Emma looked at her briefly. “But I don’t know that she’ll want to talk to me any more than you. I’m your best friend after all.”
KC nodded. There was nothing else to say. At least this way she could say that, between the two of them, they’d tried.
Traffic eased as they passed the city-limits sign. Plenty of folks traveled into town from their farm for work, but they knew the roads and drove them fast in their quest to get home.
“Em, I love you, okay?” KC squeezed back tears. This trip, the impending loss of her friend, was making her sentimental.
Emma swallowed. “I love you, too.”
They both waved at the picture of the mayor on the billboard thanking them for visiting Fairmont. Emma dropped her hand back into KC’s, and they drove southwest toward Austin.
Chapter Eight
It was almost ten when they rolled through Round Rock on highway 79. A little farther and they’d be able to call it a night. They’d been driving the back roads for almost five hours, minus a stop to use the restroom, and KC was feeling claustrophobic. Emma’s car was cute as hell, but not particularly comfortable for a long drive. Austin had never looked so good.
KC reclined the seat back as far as it would go and stretched her arms and legs. “Next time we’re taking my car.”
“First of all, no way your Accord would make it this far. It’s a piece of shit. Second, it wouldn’t have been any more comfortable. And third, stop bitching.” Emma was tired of driving, which made her more charming than usual.
“It’s time to upgrade. I’m going to buy a Camaro.” KC had been officially out of school and working for two years. She was overdue for a new vehicle. And the longer she sat in the Mini, the more she wanted a car with some room and an engine that wasn’t powered by a complicated network of rubber bands and small rodents.
“Next road trip, we’re taking yours,” Emma agreed.
KC threw a stale french fry at Emma. “Did you make a reservation?”
“No.” The look Emma gave KC said Don’t be stupid.
They’d gone on countless road trips and never once made a reservation. It was part of the adventure. They drove, then found a place to sleep when they arrived. The tradition had been born out of necessity when they were seventeen. They were too young to have a credit card to make reservations and didn’t always tell their parents exactly where they planned to sleep for the weekend.
KC’s first gay-bar experience involved an unauthorized road trip to Austin, a fake ID, and a night in a pay-by-the-hour hotel that took cash and didn’t care about a deposit. The experience had been eye opening. But KC was no longer a teenager sneaking out of her parents’ house. She was twenty-six and had plenty of plastic in her wallet to guarantee a reservation. She was tired enough to think it was time to start a new tradition on their next trip.
“I’m beat,” she said.
Emma yawned. “Me, too. This trip never used to make me so tired.”
“Face it. We’re getting old.” KC was only half teasing
“Just for that, I’m making you take me dancing tonight.”
“God, no, Em. Please, can’t we just get a room and sleep? We can snuggle and watch bad porn on pay-per-view.” After the week she’d had, KC was pretty sure she’d never fully catch up on her rest.
Emma looked at KC for a brief moment then shifted in her seat, and the air in the car changed from comfortable to awkward. Finally she said, “No, we’re definitely going dancing.”
KC didn’t argue. She never won when Emma was like this.
A few miles past the Austin city-limits sign, she turned into a La Quinta. The lot was nearly empty and she parked directly across from the lobby. KC was thankful to get out of the car.
“You get
the room.” Emma lit a cigarette while she was still seated. Her strict no-smoking-in-the-car rule was apparently on hiatus.
KC paid for the room for two nights and asked for two electronic keys instead of just one. Normally she’d be with Emma the whole time, so one would be enough. This time she wasn’t sure where the day would take them. Emma had appointments and she had papers to grade. They really were getting old.
When she got back to the car, Emma was leaning against the trunk and starting on her second cigarette. KC handed her a room key and tucked the other in her back pocket.
“Pop the trunk, I’ll grab the bags.” She figured Emma could follow along when she finished, providing she didn’t plan to smoke the whole pack.
“I’ll finish this and clean out the car, then I’ll be up.” Emma patted the trunk. “Get your dancing shoes on while you’re waiting.”
KC had her belongings unpacked and tucked into drawers before Emma joined her. She used to leave her stuff in her suitcase and pull it out as she needed it, but wrinkles were less appealing to her now than ironing. Properly unpacking was the midpoint solution between the two. She heard Emma activate her key card and couldn’t remember if she’d told her it was a non-smoking room.
Emma opened the door and stopped abruptly halfway in. Thankfully, she was cigarette free. She stared at the king-sized bed for a long moment, then finally stepped fully inside and closed the door.
“There’s only one bed.” Emma sounded nervous.
“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize it until I got up here.” KC didn’t see the problem. They slept together all the time. Why should this be any different? Still, Emma looked on the verge of hyperventilating. “Do you want me to see if they can change it?”
“No, let’s just get ready. It’s already past ten. Rusty’s will be packed by now.”
*
The dim lights inside Rusty’s made it hard for KC to see Emma’s face. That was a problem since Emma had worn a red dress that drove KC to distraction. It swished around her thighs with every step and was cut low in the bodice and showed far too much cleavage. It was the type of dress KC would chase all night long if it wasn’t hanging off Emma, so KC worked hard to keep her eyes focused above Emma’s neck.
“Do you like my dress?” She twirled and the skirt flared up.
KC snorted beer through her nose. “Jesus.” Someone pounded her on the back and offered a stack of bar napkins.
“Even if she doesn’t, I sure do,” the woman said. She had a deep, rich Spanish accent.
Emma squealed. “Maria!” She hugged the woman while KC continued to sputter.
Emma ended the hug and automatically moved her hand to KC’s back, massaging a circular path over KC’s low back that comforted and reassured. KC found it very disconcerting but didn’t know why.
“How you doing?” Maria kissed Emma’s cheek. Maria had olive skin and short black hair. She was trim, well muscled, and had dark, intense eyes. She was exactly the kind of girl KC had fucked in college. Then again, that could be said for most women she encountered during her undergrad years.
KC swelled with inexplicable possessiveness. Granted, she and Emma were just friends, but this Maria chick had no clue. She stood far too close to Emma, moving in despite the clear message that Emma wasn’t alone. Emma dropped her hand away as soon as KC stopped choking on her beer.
“God, I’m good. It’s been forever. It didn’t even click that you’d be back in Austin.” Emma smiled in a way that KC thought was reserved for her alone. Apparently not.
“I finished up two years ago and moved home.” Maria shrugged, her smile a little too big for her face.
KC wrapped her arm around Emma and squeezed her waist. She was tired of being excluded. “Who’s this?”
“Oh, KC, sorry.” Emma blushed slightly. “This is Maria Gutierrez. We went to college together. Maria, this is KC.”
“KC, huh?” Maria stuck out her hand and shook KC’s gamely. “I’ve heard lots about you.”
Funny. KC hadn’t heard word one about Maria. “So, you’re an old friend from Las Vegas?” KC had no idea why she emphasized the word friend so heavily, but it seemed an important distinction to make.
Emma hedged. “We were a little more than friends.”
“A little? Remember that one weekend? We barely came up for air.” Maria laughed. The look in her eyes said she’d be happy for a repeat performance, and KC angled herself between Emma and Maria. The thought of the two of them in bed together made her skin crawl.
Emma smiled awkwardly. “We had some fun.”
“That we did.” Maria smirked, then tilted her head toward the dance floor. “A dance? For old time’s sake?”
Emma hesitated, then asked KC, “You okay? You choked pretty hard a second ago.”
“I’ll survive.” KC forced herself to smile and reluctantly said, “Go ahead and dance. Have fun.” She silently urged Emma to stay.
“If you’re sure…” Emma eased past KC, their bodies touching lightly.
KC gripped Emma around her waist to hold her in place for a moment. Her thumbs played with the soft fabric over Emma’s tummy. “Have fun,” KC whispered in Emma’s ear. She released her hold and watched as Emma walked to the dance floor with her ex-girlfriend.
Something about Maria was off. On the surface, KC admitted she looked fine. Better than fine. She couldn’t put her finger on what was bothering her, but she fought hard against the urge to interrupt their dance, to protect Emma. Of course, Emma would likely belt her one. She didn’t need protection from tall, dark, and handsome, especially when she’d already been with Maria.
KC frowned and headed toward the bar. She kept one eye on Emma as she ordered a fresh drink. She was done drinking beer.
“Can I get a whiskey sour?” She had to yell to be heard over the crowd.
The bartender had long auburn hair tucked beneath a white Stetson. She wore a western-cut shirt with pearl snaps, low-cut Wranglers, and a sexy smile. She nodded and mixed the drink.
KC divided her attention. It was never a good idea to take your eyes off your drink in a crowded bar, even when it was still in the hands of the bartender. Yet she couldn’t look away from Emma. She had her arms looped around Maria’s neck and looked far too cozy. They swayed to an old Patsy Cline song. This was the first time in KC’s life she’d wanted Patsy to stop singing.
The bartender finished mixing the drink but didn’t set it on the bar in front of KC. She winked and gestured for KC to follow her to the other end of the bar. KC followed. She wanted that drink, and it looked like she’d have a better view of Emma from there anyway.
“How much do I owe you?” The noise dimmed considerably the farther they got from the center of the bar so KC could speak normally.
The bartender ran a long, slender finger over the side of the glass, scooping up drops of condensation as she went. “On the house.” Rather than set the drink down, she held it out for KC to take from her.
When KC tried to, she held it for a few extra seconds and said, “I’m Deena.”
“Hey.” KC glanced at Deena long enough to get her to release the drink, then returned her gaze to the dance floor just in time to see Maria pull Emma closer.
“It’s time for my break.” Deena spoke lowly and KC could feel her move closer. “You want to join me?” She motioned toward a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY.
KC focused her full attention on Deena. She’d been so fixated on Emma, she’d missed the fact that this shit-hot woman was hitting on her. She smiled and tried to figure out how to say no gently. Obviously her relationship with Lonnie wasn’t exclusive; Lonnie’s husband made sure of that, but KC didn’t feel right about random hookups. Not to mention she needed to make sure that Emma made it back to the hotel safely. It was her personal mission to wipe the smug smile off Maria’s face when Emma left with KC at the end of the night instead of her.
“What do you say?” Deena’s mouth curved into a slow, confident smile.
“That�
��s really sweet.” KC took a shuffling half step away from Deena. “And I’m flattered. But I’m spoken for.”
Deena looked pointedly at the dance floor and KC followed her gaze. They landed on Emma as Maria slid her hands down to Emma’s ass and squeezed.
“Looks like your girlfriend has other plans.” Deena moved into the space KC had just backed out of and spoke into KC’s ear. “And I’m not trying to be sweet.”
The words traveled down KC’s neck and spine on a shiver. Deena offered a distraction from her drama with Lonnie, from Emma’s inviting red dress, and from Maria fucking Gutierrez’s presumptuous hands. KC was tempted.
She studied Deena, her tight jeans, the open snaps that created a delicious V to guide KC into her cleavage, and her easy, inviting smile. Her gaze retuned to Emma as Emma pulled Maria’s hands from her backside and stepped out of her arms. Their dance was over.
“Thanks. Really.” KC raised her drink in a minor salute. “But I’m still going to pass.” She took a sip of her drink and turned her full attention back to Emma.
Emma stood on the dance floor, unmoving in a sea of motion. She stared at KC, her eyes narrowed with a frown creasing her brow. She raised one eyebrow in a perfect question and looked pointedly at Deena.
KC shook her head and took a step toward Emma. Over her shoulder she said, “Thanks for the drink.”
She met Emma halfway between the bar and the dance floor. Sweat glistened on Emma’s forehead. Too many people were dancing, which made for a hot, sweaty time even for a slow dance.
KC slicked her thumb over the damp skin. “Did you have a nice time?”
Emma shrugged. “It was okay.”
She wrapped her hand around KC’s whiskey sour, covering KC’s fingers. Cool glass pressed against her palm in contradiction to the heat of Emma’s skin. KC felt faint.