by Radclyffe
“Is there some reason being kissed makes you think a woman has a problem?” Ali asked tenderly.
Beau grinned and tapped Ali’s lower lip with her fingertip. “Ordinarily, no. How many times have you ever kissed a woman in the stairwell?”
Ali nipped at Beau’s finger. “Never.”
“You make my point.”
“I like the way you kiss,” Ali said with a shrug. She needed to make light of what was happening, for both their sakes.
“I like kissing you.” Beau dipped her head and kissed Ali’s neck, then slid her hands along Ali’s sides and clasped her hips. She cleaved more tightly to her. “You feel great.”
Gently, Ali flattened her hands against Beau’s chest and pushed her back. “So do you. Time for coffee.”
“I’m off tonight, how about you?”
“I’m off. I’m working tomorrow.”
“Come to dinner at my place tonight. I can’t wait until Friday.” When Beau saw the flicker of hesitation in Ali’s eyes, she added quickly, “Besides, Bobby won’t pay up until we have a date. He wants proof.”
“So it’s all about the money, is it?” Ali teased.
“Absolutely.” Beau grasped Ali’s hand and rubbed her thumb over Ali’s knuckles. “Please. Nothing fancy. Just me and my sister and Bobby.”
“I don’t know, Beau. It’s pretty short notice, and your sister…”
“Jilly will be fine. And I’ll make Bobby behave.” Beau kissed her. “Please.”
“Has any woman ever said no to you?” Ali asked, having a hard time pulling herself out of the depths of Beau’s eyes. Her intense gaze had a way of making Ali feel both incredibly desirable and incredibly desirous.
“Lots and lots.” Beau couldn’t seem to keep her cool where Ali was concerned. She said more than she meant to, felt more than she wanted to. And she couldn’t stop. “But I need you to say yes. Otherwise, I’m going to have a very bad day. I already had a very bad night.”
Feeling breathless, Ali asked, “Oh?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I keep thinking about being with you. About the way your body felt curved against mine. How soft your skin was. How amazing it felt when you stroked my stomach. You made me so hot, Ali. So hot I…” Beau stopped, blushing. “Sorry, I must sound—”
“I like knowing I excite you,” Ali murmured. “And you sounded amazing.”
Beau jerked. She hadn’t been the only one lying awake at Ali’s that night. Ali had heard her make herself come. “Uh, well—there goes any chance I had of being cool.”
Ali skimmed her mouth over Beau’s ear. “Believe me, your cool credentials are fine. You know what I’ve been thinking about since yesterday?”
“What?” Beau swallowed hard.
“Wishing I could have watched.”
Beau’s legs turned to jelly. “Jesus, Ali.”
“So maybe next time.” Ali quickly kissed her and slid out of the space between the railing and Beau’s body. If she lingered any longer she would have to touch her again. Kiss her again. And they’d already been in the stairwell too long. She didn’t want anyone to walk in on them, and she needed a minute to put her senses back in order.
“Tonight?” Beau asked, grabbing Ali’s hand to keep her from heading down the stairs.
Ali lifted an eyebrow.
“Dinner. I was talking about dinner. I can pick you up here or at your place. Just say when.”
Ali knew exactly what she should say. Instead, she replied, “Six thirty should be good. I’ll meet you out front.”
*
Jilly knocked on the open door to Beau’s room. “Hey. Can I come in?”
Beau turned away from the closet, buttoning her shirt. She tucked the open collared slate-gray silk shirt into her charcoal trousers. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Jilly gently closed the door and leaned back against it. “You look nice.”
“You think?” Beau frowned and looked down, smoothing her hand over the front of her shirt. “This looks okay?”
Jilly smiled. “Beau, sweetie, you’re devastating. Are you nervous?”
“No!” Beau caught Jilly’s look. “Okay. Maybe. Yes.”
“I think that’s cute.”
Beau groaned. “Cute and sexy are oxymorons.”
“Not true. Now, granted, I haven’t seen you get ready for very many dates. In fact, I can only remember seeing you get ready to go out carousing with the guys, but I don’t ever remember seeing you nervous.” Jilly sat on the end of Beau’s bed. “Tonight’s different, isn’t it?”
Beau grabbed the cane-backed chair that she usually draped her clothes over, spun it around, and straddled it. Folding her arms over the top, she rested her chin on her forearms. “It’s not a date, exactly. I just invited Ali over for dinner.”
“Like one friend invites another friend?”
“Not exactly that, either.”
“Bobby mentioned something about a bet.”
Beau jumped up, catching the chair just before it toppled. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Actually, I think he’s embarrassed about it. After you told us Dr. Torveau was coming to dinner, he said she probably thinks he’s a horse’s ass because of some bet he forced you into.”
“It was dumb, but Ali already knows about it and Bobby has nothing to worry about. She thinks we’re both horses’ asses because of it.” Beau told Jilly about the first time she’d seen Ali and how Bobby had ended up betting her she couldn’t get Ali to go out on a date with her.
“But that’s not what this dinner is about, is it,” Jilly said when Beau finished.
“No. I meant it when I told you yesterday I kinda have a thing for her.”
“That’s what I thought. You’ve never brought a girl to Mom’s, you know. Not a single holiday event or even a weekend barbecue.”
Beau grimaced. “Bringing a girl to meet the family is a big deal. When you do that, they sort of expect…Jesus, I’m starting to sound like one of the guys.”
Jilly laughed. “Starting to? If I didn’t know how sweet you are on the inside, I’d be giving you a lot harder time about your attitude. So she’s special?”
“She could be.” Beau took a deep breath, and admitted what she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “She definitely could be.”
“So—how much does she know about…us?”
“Nothing.” Beau sighed. “Almost nothing. She knows about the Hodgkin’s.”
Jilly’s eyes widened. “You told her?”
“She sort of guessed. She saw my scars.” Beau saw the flurry of questions cross Jilly’s face. “Long story. But we were…close, and she saw and she mostly guessed. So I told her.”
“I guess there’s no reason to go into the rest of it. But if you wanted to, I don’t mind.”
Beau got up, pushed the chair back against the wall, and strode to the window. She couldn’t see anything outside in the dark. “Remember I told you about her sister dying? That Ali blames herself for that?” She spun around. “She’s still so torn up about it she has nightmares. How can I tell her that I was responsible for almost killing you?”
Jilly looked stunned. “Beau. You are not responsible for me having a drug reaction. You’re not responsible for me needing a transfusion. It’s not your fault that I got contaminated blood.”
“If not me, Jilly, then who? I was the one that fucked up everybody else’s life for more almost three years, and yours forever. If I’m not responsible, who is?”
“Beau—”
Beau slammed out of the room. She didn’t stop, even when she heard Jilly call her name again. Ali would have sacrificed anything for her sister because she was tender and loving and brave. Ali was everything she wasn’t. She must be out of her mind to think she had anything to offer her.
Chapter Twenty-One
At exactly 6:30, Ali walked out of the hospital and scanned the cars double-parked all along the block. She hadn’t asked what Beau was driving, and
she tried to guess. Her first thought was a classic muscle car, then a pickup truck. She hadn’t considered a motorcycle until she saw one careen around the corner. With a sinking feeling, she watched the big bike pull into the curb in front of her. She wasn’t going to be able to get on it. Not even for Beau. Especially not for Beau.
“Hey,” a husky voice said at the same time as she registered a slight pressure on the small of her back. “I’m parked down this way.”
With a sense of relief, Ali turned away from the motorcyclist to find Beau beside her. “Hi.”
“Are you okay?” Beau asked, her hand still on Ali’s back.
“Yes. Sure. I’m fine.”
Beau frowned and glanced at the curb where a leather-clad figure climbed off the Harley. “Did you think that was me?”
“For a second. I don’t know why, I just…you do seem the type.”
“I do have a bike. I mostly ride it up in the mountains during the summer with a bunch from the station.” Beau took Ali’s hand. “I’m careful. And I would never expect you to ride with me.”
“That’s thinking rather far ahead, isn’t it? Considering we haven’t had our first date yet?”
“Probably.”
“I’m sorry, I’m being bitchy because I don’t like being caught off guard,” Ali said. Neither of them wore gloves and she liked the warmth of Beau’s palm against hers. She let her fingers thread through Beau’s. “It’s nice of you to realize I’d be uncomfortable about the motorcycle. Thank you.”
“Yeah, that’s me all right. Nice and thoughtful and considerate.”
Ali studied Beau’s profile as they approached a Ford Thunderbird. She vaguely registered that she’d been right about the muscle car, but she was more focused on Beau. She’d never seen her quite this way before. Unlike her usual irrepressible cockiness, Beau sounded bitter and her expression was stark. Before she could ask about it, Beau unlocked the passenger side door and held it open for her. She slid into the bucket seat while Beau skirted around the front and got behind the wheel. She waited while Beau started the car, checked over her shoulder, and pulled out into traffic.
“You seem upset,” Ali said once Beau had maneuvered between the uneven rows of double-parked taxis and cars and turned west.
“I’m fine.”
“If something’s come up, we can do this another—”
“No!” Beau rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry. I just—I want you to come to dinner.”
“Okay. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Instinctively, Ali rested her hand on Beau’s thigh. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Ali said, realizing how much she meant it. She’d liked having Beau nearby when she’d been so shaken after the shooting, maybe liked it a little too much. She wanted to spend time with Beau when neither of them was in the middle of a crisis or recovering from one. She wasn’t feeling one hundred percent recovered, but she’d gotten through the day at work with just a slight headache. At least tonight, Beau wouldn’t be her caretaker, and that was important to her. “But I know the invitation was last minute, so if something’s come up, I understand. We could do it another time.”
Beau slowed and pulled into a space on a quiet residential block of three-story Victorian twins not far from the medical complex. She turned off the engine and sat staring ahead, both hands on the wheel. Part of her, a big part of her, wanted to tell Ali things she hadn’t told anyone, but she was embarrassed. And ashamed. And fearful of what Ali would think of her.
“I just had a lot of old stuff come up. Things I’m not proud of,” Beau finally said.
“I don’t mind listening,” Ali said softly, wishing she had better words. She comforted the injured and the ill and the dying every single day of her life. She consoled those left behind and gave hope to those with none. Beau was so very clearly troubled, but all she could do was let her know she wasn’t alone. She rubbed Beau’s thigh lightly and when Beau reached down and covered her hand, the tentative touch was so very vulnerable, her heart ached. She pressed her hand a little harder against Beau’s leg. Beau dropped her head back against the seat and stared at the ceiling. Headlights from the occasional passing car illuminated her face. Her sadness cut through the shadows.
Ali shifted closer and caressed Beau’s cheek. “What is it?”
“I want you to know something about me,” Beau said hoarsely, still not looking at Ali.
“All right.”
“When I got sick, my whole family practically came unglued. I’m the baby—by a lot—and I guess I was pretty spoiled.”
“The babies in the family usually are.” Ali started to pull her hand away but Beau grabbed it and clutched it as if it were a lifeline. Their fingers linked again, as naturally as if they’d been holding hands forever.
“I was really, really angry when I got sick. I didn’t care that everyone else was scared and suffering. I didn’t care that my parents almost broke up because they were so stressed. All I cared about was my whole life going down the toilet.”
“It must have been a horrible time for you. What you went through was devastating.”
Beau turned her head toward Ali. “Sure. It was. But it wasn’t easy for the rest of my family either, and I didn’t care about that.”
“Beau, you were a teenager with a terrifying and painful disease.”
“Yeah.” Beau heaved a sigh. “The Hodgkin’s was advanced and I didn’t respond well to chemo. Everything made me sick, and I didn’t go into remission the way the doctors anticipated. I kept getting worse. It was spreading fast.”
Ali’s chest tightened and she tried hard not to show how much Beau’s words affected her. She couldn’t let her ghosts or her fears prevent her from hearing what Beau needed to say. “What happened?”
“They finally decided to get super-aggressive since there really wasn’t much to lose. They pretty much totaled my immune system with chemo and radiation and I got a stem cell transplant from my sister.”
“And that worked.” Ali couldn’t contemplate any other answer. She just couldn’t.
“Better than anyone expected. A complete remission.” Beau lifted Ali’s hand and rubbed Ali’s fingers against her cheek. “I’m officially considered cured.”
“You strike me as being completely healthy and incredibly strong now.”
“Yes, I am,” Beau said, and the bitterness was back in her voice. “What nobody told me for almost a year after the transplant was that my sister Jilly had a reaction to one of the drugs they gave her to stimulate her bone marrow. Some kind of weird hemolytic toxicity. She got so anemic she needed to be transfused.”
Ali felt the breath stop in her chest.
“Jilly got HIV from the transfusion. I got cured and she got a death sentence.”
“Oh, God, Beau. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Beau blew out a breath. “She’s never once complained.”
“No, I don’t imagine she would. She’s your sister. She must love you very much.”
“You know what really sucks,” Beau said, her voice choked. “If I knew then what might happen to her, I think I still would have wanted her to do it. I didn’t care about anybody except me. I didn’t want to die.”
Ali couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t bear Beau’s pain. She circled Beau’s shoulders and pulled her across the narrow space between them. With her lips pressed to Beau’s temple, she murmured, “Of course you didn’t want to die. You don’t know what you would have decided, and it doesn’t matter. Your sister made a choice, the one she needed to make. I’d bet everything I have that was the only choice she could live with. That’s all that matters.”
Beau buried her face in the curve of Ali’s neck, clutching her as if she were drowning. When her shoulders began to tremble, Ali realized she was crying.
“Oh, hey,” she whispered. Barely able to breathe through the crushing need to console her, she wrapped Beau as firmly as she could within the circle of her arm
s. She slid one hand underneath Beau’s jacket and rubbed her back through her shirt. Feeling incredibly inadequate, she stroked Beau’s hair with her other hand and kissed her forehead. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh man,” Beau mumbled against Ali’s throat. “This is so not cool.”
When Beau tried to pull away, Ali tightened her hold. “Stay. I need to hold you.”
Beau flinched, then relaxed and let herself be comforted. She didn’t believe she deserved the solace, but she needed it so much. Ali’s breath was warm against her cheek and the familiar scent of vanilla and cedar calmed her. When Beau brushed her lips over Ali’s throat, she tasted the sharp sweetness of winter air. She tightened and throbbed and her sadness transformed into something more urgent and raw. She edged her hand beneath Ali’s wool greatcoat and skated her hand over Ali’s chest. Ali wore a silk shirt and when Beau lightly brushed the swell of her breast, Ali’s nipple tightened against her palm.
“Beau,” Ali groaned. “No.”
Beau jerked her hand away and pulled free of Ali’s embrace. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Ali pushed both hands through her hair, drawing in a deep breath to steady herself. “I am just so incredibly sensitive to the slightest touch from you, I lose all control.”
“Christ,” Beau banged her head against the back of the seat. “Ditto.”
Ali smiled shakily. “Ditto? That’s what I get after admitting I practically combust when I’m anywhere near you?”
Beau tilted her head, grinning wryly. “If you want to know the truth, I just need to think about you and I want to come. I haven’t spent this much time masturbating since I was fourteen years old. Before I fall asleep, when I wake up, in the shower, in the—”
“Stop that,” Ali groaned again. “We have to go inside and we can’t look like we want to rip each other’s clothes off.”
“So it’s not just me?”
“It’s definitely not just you.” Ali risked skin-to-skin contact and took Beau’s hand. “Are you all right?”
Beau blew out a breath. “Better. Sometimes I get really angry at Jilly, and I know she doesn’t deserve it. I’m really angry at myself.”