Captive Hearts

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Captive Hearts Page 38

by Harper Bliss


  Because I’m thinking all of this while Tess’s fingers meander down and her lips stay fastened on my nipple, my body hardly responds when her finger circles around my clit. Yet, I don’t stop her. I want this. Not just for me, but for her as well. Tess is not Tracy, I repeat to myself, Tess is not Tracy.

  She must find wetness when her finger trails along my lips, because she easily slips in, which just goes to show that what the body does isn’t always aligned with what the mind is thinking, but I know from the first split second she’s inside of me that it will be a lost cause. I’m in my head too much and as much as I want to—so desperately—let go, I know I ruined it before she even started.

  “Tess.” I bring a hand to her hair, stroke her, while my other hand finds hers and I stop her motion. “Please.”

  She retreats instantly and looks up. “What is it?” Nothing but worry in her glance. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No, absolutely not.” I curl my fingers around her wrist, not wanting to let go of it ever again. I feel foolish and stupid for ruining a beautiful moment. “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  “Tell me.” She shuffles upward until our gazes are aligned. “Talk to me, Laura. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  Tell me what you’re thinking. One of Tracy’s classic lines when she was in full-on restitution mode. “I’m sorry, I just—it has just been a bit much.”

  “It’s fine,” Tess says, her hand lingering just above my breasts. “I understand.”

  Do you? I want to ask. How can you possibly understand? But this is not Tess’s fault. Maybe I’m just not ready for the light of the day to shine upon me when we do this.

  I shake my head, not as an expression of dismissiveness, but because I want to shake the self-pity off me. The one thing I’ve always tried very hard not to wallow in. Yes, bad things happened to me, and marrying Tracy was an awful decision in hindsight, but I didn’t know. If there were ever any clues as to the person she really was, I can’t hold it against myself any longer for not spotting them. I’m not psychic. I can’t read people’s innermost thoughts. I’m just a regular woman. I was a victim, but I’m not anymore.

  “Why don’t we take a shower?” I trail my finger through Tess’s hair. “You and me together.”

  “Okay.” Tess nods solemnly. “But, Laura, please know that you can talk to me about anything.”

  “I know. I do know that.” Here I go again. If there’s one thing that annoys me most about myself it’s this line that I keep repeating endlessly. “I will when I’m ready.”

  “And another thing.” A smile breaks through the grave expression on her face. “You’d better get used to me because I’m not going anywhere.”

  Thirty-Two

  Tess

  “Are you ready for this?” I ask Laura. Although she has come to dinner at the Douglas house a dozen times by now, this time is different. This time we’re together. A fact I wasn’t able to hide from Mom and Dad for one second when I came home after spending the night at Laura’s.

  “Of course I am.” Laura looks more scrumptious than ever, despite her wearing the same kind of white t-shirt she always wears. How would she react if I bought her a blue one as a present, or a red one? Her hair has grown back to the same length as when we first met. And every time she pulls back from me—every time the past catches up with her—I remember how she was when we first met. Her body language all defensive, her words not much more inviting. When she retreats in on herself and goes all silent, I hope she doesn’t blame herself for holding back on me, because, every day, I am witness to how much she has changed already.

  Moby sniffs her shoes and jeans, probably smelling Socks on them.

  “We should go inside,” Laura says, leaning into me a little.

  “I know.” I cup her cheeks in my hands. As soon as we go inside I won’t have her to myself anymore. There is so much still left to discover, so much left to learn. “Dad made a cake.”

  Mom hugs Laura like she is a long lost daughter returning home. “We were so happy when Tess told us,” she says. I probably didn’t warn Laura enough about this, about how they can be. I should have known that their single daughter finding love would send them into overdrive. I’ve learned how to rein in my Douglas enthusiasm a little around Laura when the circumstances call for it, but my parents don’t know about Laura’s secret and Mom is extra switched on today.

  Laura smiles at her but then I have to look away because Dad thrusts me in the biceps with his elbow. I glance at him but he doesn’t say anything, just stands there giving me a thumbs-up with a big grin on his face. If I weren’t raised in this family, I’d surely be rolling my eyes at him but, unlike Laura, I’ve been blessed with the most supportive family that ever lived. And always, as has become a habit over the past few weeks, I can’t help but wonder what Laura’s thinking. Is it too late for her to experience the warmth of unconditional parental support the way I have? Does being here with my Mom and Dad remind her of her parents and how awfully they’ve treated her?

  “Sorry we’re late.” Megan and Toby barge in. “Emma and Max both have colds and Scott seems to be coming down with one as well.”

  Toby, just on the cusp, I think, of being too old to let us all kiss him, makes the rounds. I kiss him hard on the forehead.

  “I’ll make chicken soup,” Mom immediately says. “It will cure them in no time.”

  “Thanks for feeding us, Mommy.” Megan kisses Mom on the cheek. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  Once we’ve all sat down to dinner and drinks have been poured and plates filled, Dad raises his glass and says, “To Laura.”

  Though I think it’s a little over the top to be proposing a toast at this stage, I sit there beaming with pride nonetheless.

  Toby, his glass of water half-raised, asks, “Why are we holding up our glasses for Laura?”

  “Because Auntie Tess and Laura are a couple now,” Megan says. “You know, like Dad and me.”

  “Okay,” Toby says, looking confused for a few seconds, then turns to me. “Are you getting married?”

  I giggle nervously. “It’s a bit too early for that,” I say.

  “Why? Mom and Dad are married. And then they had me.” Christ, the boy is just like his mother—and me. He doesn’t know when to stop.

  “All in good time, Toby,” Laura says. “People don’t just meet and get married straight away.”

  “But you’ve known each other for aaaages.” He stresses the first part of the word with the seriousness only a child can muster.

  “Toby, that’s enough questions from you,” Megan butts in. “You’ll be the first to know when Auntie Tess and Laura get married, okay?” She shoots me an apologetic smile. “Now eat your vegetables.”

  Later, when Megan and I are filling the dishwasher while Mom and Dad have taken Laura and Toby outside to show them the inflatable swimming pool they’ve installed for the summer, Megan says, “You look happy, sis. You have that glow about you.”

  I wish I could confide in my sister about this. I wish I could share with her—the person I’ve always shared everything with, from the smallest to the biggest things that happened in my life—what Laura’s burden is, but I know I need to keep my big mouth shut. I know if I don’t I’ll lose Laura’s trust forever, and I’ve only just gained a fraction of it.

  “I’m happy. It’s still early days, though the family is treating it more like an engagement already.”

  “We’ve just… you know, been waiting,” Megan says.

  “Well, I’ve been waiting too, Megs. I’ve been waiting for a long time.” Memories of our first night together pop up in my brain. The relief I felt, the sheer joy of being with another woman again. And the right one at that. If I’d somehow managed to crawl into bed with Sherry the cowgirl, it might have been satisfying for two minutes, but it would have been nothing compared to the all-obliterating bliss I felt with Laura.

  “I know you have.” Megan stops piling dishes for a second and I f
eel her gaze burning on the back of my head. “At times it felt as though you’d wait forever. It made me wonder what you were so afraid of.”

  “What do you mean?” I raise to my full height and look Megan straight in the eyes.

  “You could have made more effort to find someone, perhaps?”

  What is Megan getting at? “This is Nelson, Texas, Megs. Eligible lesbian bachelorettes don’t exactly grown on trees here.”

  “Well, duh. But I sometimes asked myself if you weren’t using us, the family, as an excuse not to put yourself out there.”

  “What? No.” That’s the second time in a very short period of time I’m being questioned about this—and by my own sister no less, the person I always wanted to stay for the most. “Not everyone is as lucky as you, that’s all. You met Scott in college and he moved to Nelson for you.”

  “Yes, he did, but that’s just the thing though. If he hadn’t wanted to move here, I would have followed him. If he’d wanted to settle in Houston or Dallas or even out of state, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have stuck around here, moping for the love I lost.”

  “You can’t compare the two situations. When you met Scott, you knew. I’ve fallen in love, sure, but never to the extent that I was willing to sacrifice proximity to my family. Remember Houston? I did try, you know.”

  “Of course I remember you living in Houston. I knew that woman wasn’t right for you from the get-go, by the way, and I distinctly remember telling you that, but you ignored my twin-sister intuition. You ignored The Force, Tessie.” Megan has a grin on her face now. We can never keep it too serious between us for too long a time.

  “Then do tell me what you think about Laura. What does The Force have to say about her?” I look at her closely, lest I miss any signs of disapproval on her face.

  “Laura is great. I don’t know her that well just yet, but all I need to do is look at you when you’re with her and I just know she’s right for you.” Megan pauses. “But, I don’t know, there’s something about her I can’t put my finger on. Perhaps the very thing that makes her so attractive to you. I look at her and I see someone who’s the opposite of you. Not just in the way she dresses or how she always comes across so serious, but her personality is the opposite of bubbly.”

  “She has been through a lot, Megs.” It’s out of my mouth before I even think about a suitable reply.

  “So you keep saying.” This time, it’s Megan’s turn to examine my face for signs of something I’m not telling her—me, her sister who tells her everything. “Is this about her parents? I can still see them arrive at Milly’s funeral. Such disrespect.” Megan shakes her head.

  “They certainly didn’t help.” Again, that war waging within me. I know for a fact that Megan would keep whatever secret I told her. “Mom and Dad are a million times more Christian than they are and they never even go to church anymore.” Deflect, I tell myself. It’s a good strategy.

  “The way they sat so stiffly on those chairs at Laura’s house at the reception, keeping away from everyone, as though we were all Satan’s spawn.” Megan seems to have taken the bait.

  “Can you understand now why I could never leave this family? You make every other family out there look bad.” I try to drive my point home—something Megs and I both like to do with each other—and make a joke in the process. And I know I don’t have an ounce of darkness within me and, perhaps, that’s why Laura is drawn to me. I’m her light at the end of the tunnel.

  The kitchen door opens and Dad walks in. “Tessie, darlin’, I’ve convinced Laura to try that craft brandy I’ve had for years. The one neither one of you, nor that husband of yours, Megs, wants to touch.” He seems mightily pleased with himself.

  Mom, Toby, and Laura file into the kitchen. “What have you girls been doing?” Mom asks. “I thought my kitchen would be spic-and-span by now.” She turns to Laura. “Put those two together and they get absolutely nothing done. Always gossiping and giggling and forgetting the task at hand.” She comes over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Why don’t you join Dad and Laura in the lounge, I’ll take it from here.”

  My gaze finds Laura’s and the wink she shoots me fills me with an unspeakable burst of happiness.

  * * *

  “This is so uncomfortable.” I huddle next to Laura under the duvet. “You’d better not touch me inappropriately.”

  “I can’t believe this room.” Laura slurs her words. “It looks like you never changed it since you were a teenager.”

  “Tomorrow, when your brandy goggles are off, you can have another look at it and apologize for what you just said.” I perch on one elbow and look at Laura. “What were you thinking, babe? You barely drink and then you let Dad liquor you up like that?”

  “I could tell it would mean a lot to him.” Laura folds her fingers behind her head and looks at me with the most relaxed expression I’ve seen on her face.

  “You don’t need to impress him, Laura. We all love you already.”

  “Oh really?” Apparently, she’s not too far gone to defy me. “Earl loves me?”

  “He’s fond of you. I’m sure of that.”

  “Because I took his daughter off the streets.” She giggles so hard she snorts.

  “I think you should close your eyes now and go to sleep.” There’s no point in prolonging this conversation, although it’s a joy to see Laura this giddy and uninhibited.

  “I don’t want to sleep, Tess.” Under the sheets, her hand clamps down on my thigh.

  “Is that right?” No matter how drunk Laura is, her touch shoots through me like an electric shock. Every time. “And what would you do instead?”

  “Maybe something you’ve never done in this room.” Her hand travels higher, her voice is deep and alcohol-soaked.

  “Laura, sweetie, your hand might be close to the money, but I don’t think it has enough energy left to do anything of the sort. And my parents are a little too close for my comfort.” I cover her hand in mine.

  “Your family is just so… nice. How is it even possible?” Her words are coming slower now. “I thought families like yours only existed in the most unrealistic fiction, in children’s books or something.”

  “No father would get his daughter’s brand new girlfriend drunk on brandy in any children’s book,” I retort. I should turn off the light but I’m enjoying looking at Laura in her current state too much.

  “No women ever had girlfriends in the books I read as a child,” Laura says. Her hand starts squirming underneath mine, pulling itself free and riding up a little higher. It stops right below the hem of my panties. “But, foolishly, as a child, I did believe my family was perfect. Until I found out they weren’t. The first big disillusionment of my life.”

  “Nobody is—” I start saying, but Laura just keeps on talking.

  “The second one was Tracy, of course. At first, I thought she was perfect as well. Maybe because I wanted her to be, though I should have known. After all, I had first hand experience with perfect people falling from grace. But I didn’t see. I didn’t know. For the longest time I wondered what exactly saying ‘I do’ to me did to her. The very first time she hit me, I was stunned more than hurt. I was shocked. You hardly feel pain when you’re in shock, I guess. I don’t know.” She falls silent after that.

  Instinctively, I inch closer toward her, throw an arm over her chest.

  “I need you, Tess,” she whispers with a sob in her voice. “Only someone like you will do for me. Someone as honest and utterly nice like you. I promise you I will always be honest with you and the thing about you is that you don’t even need to make that promise to me, because I already know you will be. I see your decency and I know it’s not a front. I just know that.”

  My eyes fill with tears. Maybe this is not the right time, but I’m saying it anyway. “I love you, Laura. With everything I have.”

  “I love you too.” Her voice is barely audible, but I understood.

  * * *

  I hardly sleep for several r
easons, but the main one is Laura’s words echoing in my mind throughout the night. That, and she snored so loudly it sounded like someone was about to hack up my bed with a chainsaw.

  It’s just gone past 5 a.m. and, for the umpteenth time, I give her a gentle push to, I hope, coax her onto her side without waking her.

  “Hm,” she moans. “What?” Her eyes fly open with what looks like sheer terror.

  “It’s all right. You’re at the Douglas ranch.” She must have had a nightmare.

  “Keep me awake,” she whispers. “I don’t want to fall back asleep.”

  I nod, shuffling closer to her. “Bad dream, snore bear?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t really remember. I just remember being irrationally afraid of something.”

  “Was it a bear, perhaps?” I smile.

  “A bear? I don’t know. Why?” Her eyes are sleep-crusted and her voice is hoarse and raw.

  “It’s what kept me awake.” I run a finger over her cheek and wait until her brain starts working properly.

  “Did I snore?” Disproportionate panic crosses her face. “Shit.”

  “It’s fine, Laura. You drank too much. It happens.” I kiss her quickly on the cheek. “I’ll survive.”

  She shakes her head. “I woke up once with Tracy’s hands wrapped around my neck. When I opened my eyes, she said, ‘if you don’t stop making those godawful noises, I swear to God, I’ll choke you to death.’ And I believed every word she said.”

  “Jesus Christ, Laura.” As much as Laura’s revelation feels like a punch to the gut—and as much as it would make me want to kill Tracy if she weren’t already dead—I’m also glad that Laura is opening up more, that she’s willing to show me this side of her, this look deep inside her wounded soul. “I’m so sorry.” My words feel wholly inadequate but there’s really nothing else to say. Not even I, bright and fun-spirited Tess Douglas, can reason this sort of evil away with a quip.

 

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