by Kim Baldwin
“Okay, everyone had a turn?” Leslie asked. “Good. Now we want to practice two-rescuer CPR. Let’s break up into threes so we have a patient for each team.”
There weren’t enough people to make it work out perfectly, so Tim joined Gable and Erin for the next part.
“I’ll be the victim,” Tim told the women, lying flat on the mat.
“I’ll do breathing first, okay?” Erin looked at Gable.
“Sure.” Gable positioned herself alongside Tim’s chest to begin compressions.
Erin was trying to be entirely professional about the whole thing, and so was Tim, but Gable caught the shared shy smiles between them just before Erin leaned down to simulate mouth-to-mouth.
They switched places then, and when Erin put her hands on Tim’s chest to begin compressions, Gable’s overactive imagination found the whole maneuver entirely too erotic.
“Be right back.” She excused herself and headed outside, where she leaned against the wall of the garage and tried to regain her composure. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy. You need to get a grip, girl. It’s only going to get tougher and tougher.
The door beside her opened and she half turned, expecting—hoping—to see Erin. But it was Carl.
“When did you get here?" she asked. "I didn’t see you come in.”
“Just a few minutes ago. Came in to pick up the training schedule. I’m going to work with Erin on the breathing apparatus next week. How’s the CPR going?”
“Fine,” she lied.
“Gable, what’s going on with you?” Carl squinted at her in the dim light as if he was trying to read her expression.
She looked at the ground. “What do you mean? Nothing’s going on with me.”
“Okay, whatever you say. You know you can talk to me, right?”
“Nothing to talk about,” she insisted, still avoiding his eyes.
“Whatever. I’m heading home. You have my number if you change your mind.” He turned and headed toward his car.
If Carl can see so easily that something is bothering you, she wondered, how long will it be before Erin picks up on it too and starts asking questions?
Chapter Seven
Gable gritted her teeth and suffered through two more nights of first aid training with Erin and Tim looking increasingly cozy. They all sat together again both nights, so Gable had to listen to the two of them debate at length where they should eat and what movie they should see on their upcoming date.
And Erin, of course, picked Gable again as her partner for all the exercises, so Gable had the added torture of being able to touch her, but only in a clinical and detached way…splinting her arm and bandaging burns, immobilizing her neck and back. Then the tables were reversed and she had to try to remain relaxed and calm while Erin put her hands on her and did the same. Can she tell how fast my heart beats when she’s near?
Gable couldn’t wait to get out of there when the classes ended on Thursday evening. All she could think about was that the very next night, Tim and Erin would be alone together. Anything could happen, and probably would.
It was eating her up inside. Somehow, it sort of felt…final. Even though Erin was straight, Gable hoped and believed she occupied a special place in her heart. But she wasn’t sure there’d be room in Erin’s life for their friendship once she and Tim became an item.
Gable just wanted to go home and crawl into bed with a box of Russell Stover chocolates. Her cure for the blues. But Erin wouldn’t let her charge out of there with a quick good-bye, intercepting her as she was getting in her Jeep.
“Hey, Gable!”
Gable rolled down the window and Erin put her hands on the sill and leaned down to talk to her.
“Are you all right? You were kind of quiet tonight.”
“Sure. I’m fine. Just got a lot on my mind.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No. Thanks. Mostly work and family stuff.” She hated lying, especially to Erin. But she couldn’t admit the real reason she wasn’t behaving like herself.
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind, you know I’m here for you.” Erin smiled at her, such a sweet smile that Gable’s heart ached all the more that this woman would always be out of reach.
“Thanks, Erin.”
“Hey, I stopped you because I wanted to ask if I could get you to come over on Saturday and help me.”
“Help you?”
“Yeah, they’re supposed to deliver my new furniture that morning. I know I’ll be wanting to move it around, see what works best.” She leaned closer to Gable. “I’ll fix you lunch if you say yes. Please?”
Gable couldn’t refuse. She was secretly very pleased that Erin had asked her and not Tim. Even though it was getting more and more unbearable to be near Erin, she couldn’t say no.
“Sure. What time?”
“Noon? They should have come and gone by then.”
“Okay. See you then. And have fun tomorrow with Tim.” She said the right things, and forced herself to smile.
She went through a half a box of Russell Stover that night. A new record.
*
Friday was one of the longest days ever. The pharmacy was aggravatingly slow all day, giving her far too much time to relive every moment she’d spent with Erin and think too much about the dreams that had been keeping her awake.
By evening she was pacing the floor like a nervous father whose daughter was on her first date. She tried to watch television but nothing held her interest. And she was too keyed up to focus on a book. She settled for eating the other half of the box of chocolates, then tried to go to bed early so the night would pass more quickly.
It was all futile. Thoughts of Erin consumed her.
*
Saturday Gable awoke groggy from another restless night of erotic dreams and downed four cups of coffee on her porch, waiting impatiently for noon so she could head over to Erin’s. She got so tired of staring at her watch that she decided to ride her bike so she could leave her house at eleven fifteen and work out some of her nervous energy.
You’re a masochist, you know, she told herself forty minutes later as she pedaled over the rise that led down to Erin’s place. Why are you so anxious to hear about her date with Tim?
Erin greeted her with her usual bright smile and pulled her into the cabin’s great room by one arm. “I can’t wait to see how everything’s going to look once it’s all put in place. Thanks for coming.”
“Glad to help,” Gable said.
The furniture that Erin had bought during their shopping expedition—bed, futon for the guest room, dresser, desk, bookcases, nightstands—lay scattered around the large space. The only thing missing was the piano, which was special ordered and would take weeks to arrive.
Gable couldn’t stop herself. Wondering about Erin and Tim had kept her awake all night, after all. She could think of nothing else. “So how was your date?” She tried to keep her voice steady, but her blood was pounding in her ears.
“Nice,” Erin said. “Tim’s a very sweet man. Just like you said. We ended up going to that theater in Cadillac that has those classic movie festivals—you know the one I mean?”
“Uh-huh.” Her stomach was tied up in knots.
“They’re showing The African Queen, complete with original trailers and interviews with the actors and John Huston.”
“That’s a great movie.”
“Yeah, Tim likes a lot of the same movies we do. They’re showing a bunch of the Hepburn-Tracy movies next month. Desk Set, Pat and Mike. Woman of the Year. We’re going to go back.”
“So…you hit it off, eh?” The knots in her stomach twisted tighter.
“Too soon to tell. He’s a nice guy, and we have a lot in common. So we’ll see where it goes.” Erin smiled and shrugged. “I’ve not been real good at picking who to get serious about. It’s made me pretty skittish, I guess.”
“Well, I’m not one to talk, because I haven’t had much success in that department, either.” Gabl
e spoke from her heart, knowing Erin wouldn’t suspect what she really meant. She took a deep breath and let it out. ”I can’t say whether Tim is or isn’t the right guy for you, but I do hope you find someone who really makes you happy.”
“I hope the same for you, Gable. What about you? Ever come close to getting married?”
Erin was looking at her in a way that made Gable feel vulnerable and exposed. She was desperate to change the subject. “Nope. So…shall we get going? Where do you want to start?”
Erin looked around. “I thought we’d get the hardest stuff over with first, okay? Getting that dresser upstairs is going to be the worst, even with the drawers out. I probably should have had the delivery guys do it, but they were in a hurry and I thought we could probably handle everything ourselves.”
Gable had good upper-body strength, but the dresser was solid oak and oversized, and getting it up the stairs might be a bit of a challenge. “Well, we can lean it on its side and slide it. It helps that the stairs are carpeted.”
They got the drawers out and hefted it over to the bottom of the stairs in stages, moving it a few feet each time before resting. It was a heavy sonofabitch, even if it was a gorgeous piece of furniture.
“This is going in your room?” she asked, catching her breath before they tried to haul it up the steps.
“Yes. Other end of the hall,” Erin was winded too, and Gable tried not to stare at the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
They leaned the dresser on its side on the stairway and Erin positioned herself on top, Gable on the bottom.
Gable got a firm hold on the dresser and bent her legs. “You ready?”
“Ready.”
“Okay. On three. One…two…three!” Gable pushed upward with all her might, and Erin pulled, and the dresser rose…two steps, three, four. But Gable had to bear the weight of the piece with her legs and back while she repositioned herself to clear the final distance. It was awkward. Unwieldy. She put her all into it to push it up that last slight rise, and when she did, a muscle in her back snapped and burned, extended too far. She cried out in pain and collapsed where she was on the stairs.
“Oh God, Gable, what is it? Did you hurt yourself?” Erin scrambled down beside her.
“Pulled a muscle.” She gritted her teeth. Her back burned as though someone had stuck her with a hot poker. “Not a big deal. I’ll be fine in a minute.” She slowly rolled her shoulder to try to work out the pain.
Erin got behind her and began to massage the area with her fingers. “Here?”
“Ow!”
Erin gentled her touch. “That sounds bad. Maybe you should see a doctor?”
Gable shook her head. “I’ll be all right. Just need to put some heat on it and rest, I think.”
“Come on, lie down on the couch. We can do all this moving another day.” Erin helped her to her feet and led her toward the couch. “Try to relax. I’m going to take care of you,” she said once Gable was lying as comfortably as possible.
“I can make it home to my own bed,” Gable protested.
“Nonsense. You hurt yourself trying to help me. The least I can do is try to make you feel better. And besides, you rode your bike over. I’ll be right back.” Erin disappeared up the stairs, then returned a couple of minutes later. “Come on up and sit in the whirlpool for a while. It’ll help loosen up those muscles some. And then I’m going to give you a massage.”
Gable’s breath caught in her throat. A massage? “Uh…Uh, that’s not necessary.” She felt almost faint at the thought of Erin’s hands on her. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“Don’t be silly.” Erin laughed. “I want to. Come on.” She helped Gable to her feet and led her up the stairs and to the bathroom, where the tub was already filling.
There was a light scent in the air—lavender maybe, Gable thought. The room was lit by candles, and soft classical music played from a boom box near the tub. It was so romantic that she forgot completely for a moment about her sore back. She couldn’t stop staring at Erin. Lit by candlelight, she was mesmerizing. Gable felt a rush of heat between her legs.
“There’s a robe behind the door,” Erin said. “When the tub is full, here’s where you start the jets.” She pointed to the controls and glanced at Gable, but Gable looked away, afraid her desires were all too apparent.
Erin crossed to the door. “Take your time,” she said softly, as she closed the door between them.
The hot water and powerful jets did Gable’s muscles a world of good, and she lingered there a long while, thinking about Erin and trying to regain her equilibrium. It wasn’t easy.
In a few minutes, Erin would be touching her, and Gable would be doing all she could to act as if it was nothing at all but a therapeutic, friendly gesture. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. Just imagining it made her incredibly hot. She closed her eyes, and Dream Erin appeared in naughty lingerie. Tempting her. Teasing her. It was too much.
She turned her body so that one of the powerful jets shot its pulsating spray right where she needed it. Her hand followed to finish the job. She couldn’t stop herself. She thought it would help ease the building pressure in her loins. But it was as unsatisfying as her dreams.
She emerged sheepishly from the bathroom, suspecting that what she’d just been doing would be obvious.
But Erin gave no sign to suggest that was true. “Go on in and lie down.” She gestured toward the guest bedroom, a few steps away. “Off with the robe, and under the covers. I’ll get the boom box.”
Pausing at the threshold, Gable felt a sense of déjà vu sweep over her. Candles lit this room too, casting it in a soft buttery glow, and the bedcovers on the futon bed had been neatly pulled back. Inviting. Exactly like the setting of her dreams. She was suddenly weak in the knees again. Worse, she felt a gentle push against her back.
“Go on,” Erin urged. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
Gable turned to Erin to protest. She couldn’t do this. She’d never survive it. But when she looked at Erin, only inches away…when she saw Erin’s sweet smile, she caved. She could deny Erin nothing. She nodded dumbly and started for the bed.
Erin thoughtfully turned her back, busying herself with plugging in the boom box while Gable stripped off the robe and slipped under the covers. The sheets were cool against her heated skin, and she welcomed the slight shock to her system. She felt as though she would burst into flame at any moment.
She lay down on her stomach, her arms cradling the soft down pillow Erin had thoughtfully provided for her head. She tried to calm her racing heart, but when she looked up at Erin it only began beating faster.
How is it, she wondered, that you look even more enticing every day?
Erin was dressed in faded jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt. The sleeves had been pushed up, because she was evidently going to use that bottle of baby oil she had in her hand. She squirted some into a warming ramekin, like the kind you get butter in when you order lobster in a restaurant, and lit the candle beneath it.
Gable stared at Erin’s hands as she rubbed them together to warm them. She had imagined those small, delicate hands on her many times, just not quite like this. She willed herself to be strong. But as soon as Erin touched her, massaging the warm oil into her back and shoulders in long liquid strokes and circles, a soft moan escaped her lips. She couldn’t help it.
“So you like that, eh?” Erin leaned over to whisper softly in her ear, with what was surely one of the most seductive tones Gable had ever heard.
“Mmm-hmm. Very much,” was all she could manage. It was hard to keep her voice even. “You have great hands.” It came out before she realized what she was saying, but Erin clearly wasn’t offended.
“Glad you think so. You should learn not to fight me when I want my own way.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Gable croaked.
“Now relax,” Erin encouraged. “This where it hurts?” She found the sore muscle and began working it gently.
�
�That’s it.”
After a few minutes, Erin began pressing more firmly, working the muscle until it relaxed. “Better?”
“Much. That feels wonderful.”
Erin didn’t stop there, and Gable could not encourage her to. Once the pain was gone, she felt only a growing arousal.
Her skin was hypersensitive everywhere that Erin touched her. She could feel the moisture building between her legs.
Erin pulled the blanket back farther, to massage Gable’s lower back.
Fingers danced enticingly along the very top of Gable’s ass, and she bit her lip to stifle a groan. God help me.
Erin’s hands worked their way along her sides, fingertips barely touching the soft swell of her breasts where they lay pressed against the sheets.
Another soft moan escaped her lips. She prayed Erin hadn’t heard it.
It was forty-five minutes of sheer, sweet torture. Finally Erin pulled the blankets back up, and rested her hands momentarily on Gable’s shoulders. “All done. Don’t move for a minute. I’ll get your clothes.”
Somehow she spoke. “Thank you, Erin.”
“Any time. Be right back.”
Gable closed her eyes and took deep breaths, savoring the last moments of a most memorable massage.
Erin came back with her clothes, neatly folded, and set them on the edge of the bed. “Take your time getting up,” she said in a soft voice. “Slowly—so you don’t pull anything again.”
Gable swore she felt the lightest touch of Erin’s hands through her hair. But then she heard the door close, and she was alone again.
When she pulled back the blankets and reached for the clothes, she could smell the heady scent of her arousal, thick in the air. Uh-oh. She was suddenly very glad they’d done this in Erin’s guest room, and not in the bed Erin slept in.
*
Erin fussed over her the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. She got Gable comfortably ensconced on the couch and waited on her hand and foot, fetching drinks, a lap robe, and pillows for her back. While Gable surfed through TV channels, luxuriating in the unaccustomed pampering, Erin fixed them both a nice supper, topped off with a homemade cherry pie. Finally, at nine thirty, when Gable reluctantly announced she should be heading home, Erin insisted on driving her, hoisting Gable’s bike into the back of the red pickup.