Love On Call

by Radclyffe

  “Yeah, please. I’ll grab us a table over by the trees.”

  “Great. Just be a sec.” Mari turned away quickly so she didn’t give herself away. Excitement raced through her and she knew her delight in running into Glenn was written all over her face. She really didn’t want to repeat her meltdown of the week before. Really, really didn’t.

  *

  Mari carried the sandwich and two fresh cups of coffee back to the wooden picnic table Glenn had staked out beneath two tall pine trees. The little shade was welcome. The day promised to be hot and was getting there fast. The square was even more crowded than twenty minutes before. The bright sunny day seemed so fresh and simple. Or maybe she was just happy. Whatever the cause, she intended to enjoy it.

  She also intended to enjoy the fact Glenn watched her as she walked toward her. The press of Glenn’s gaze slid over her face and down her body and made her tingle. She loved the way Glenn looked at her, as if she was the only person on Glenn’s horizon. Foolish, she knew, but the feeling of being so central, so valued, struck a chord in her that made her whole body hum.

  “Here—let me help.” Glenn rose and took one of the coffees. “I owe you big-time for this.”

  “I’ll have to think of some suitable method of repayment,” Mari teased.

  Glenn paused, her half-eaten sandwich in her hand. “You do that.”

  Mari blushed and pretended to be busy with the sandwich she no longer cared if she ate. Her hunger had suddenly shifted to something far more visceral, and far more dangerous. Glenn looked so damn sexy she ached to touch her.

  They sat across from one another, the coffee and sandwiches between them, and ate in silence for a few minutes. The silence felt anything but empty. Mari imagined she could feel the very air crackling between them as if at any moment sparks might burst and jump from her skin to Glenn’s.

  “How did you find the night shift?” Glenn asked.

  Thankfully, a safe topic. “About what I expected. Eleven o’clock seems to be the witching hour until about one. And then of course, at six it starts all over again. I kind of liked it. I felt really in charge.”

  Glenn nodded. “There’s something different about nights. It’s not just the stillness that comes over the hospital, because it’s just as busy, really, but there’s always this sense of anticipation underneath the calm. That anything could come through the door at any minute, and you’re it. It’s all on you.”

  “You like that, don’t you? The anticipation. The not knowing what will test you next.”

  “You’d think I would’ve learned not to look for that kind of thing, wouldn’t you, but I never lost it. Even when what was coming might kill me, I had that buzz of excitement.”

  Mari caught her breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest you enjoyed that kind of danger.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t have nightmares about it, at least not when I’m sleeping.”

  “But when you’re awake?”

  Glenn sighed. “Not even that so much. You don’t have to dream about what you carry around with you. It’s always just there. This itch between your shoulder blades that something’s coming, something you can’t stop, something you might not be able to fix.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  Glenn’s brows drew down. “No. Maybe angry.” She scoffed. “I’d just like to be able to see what I’m fighting, and that never really happens.”

  “Maybe that’s why you like to spend so much time in the emergency room. Because then you know. It’s right there and you can see it.”

  “You might be right. But I’m not really sure it matters.”

  “No, neither am I. You’ve taken something that you shouldn’t have to live with and turned it into something positive. I’m sorry that you’ve had to do that, but I think you should be proud.”

  “Thanks.” Glenn stared down at her hands clasping the cup. “It matters what you think.”

  “I think you’re amazing,” Mari said softly.

  “Do you have plans this morning?”

  The question threw her and she didn’t have an answer, so she didn’t try to think, she just went with what felt right. “No. I’m not working again until Monday. Then I’m switching back to days. I suppose my biggest plans for the day were laundry and vacuuming my rug. It’s a pretty small rug.”

  Glenn grinned. “Can’t say that was on my list of things to do.” She stood up. “You mind waiting here for a few minutes?”

  “Sure. It’s a beautiful day and I’ve been inside all night.”

  “You’re not tired?”

  “No!” The last thing she was was tired. Just being around Glenn was exhilarating. She felt better, more alive and more eager for what the day might bring, than she had been all week. “I’m great. Take whatever time you need.”

  Glenn paused beside her and touched her shoulder, as if reassuring herself Mari really would stay. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll wait.” Mari watched her as she ran across the field to the corner and disappeared. They weren’t very far from Glenn’s apartment, and she suspected Glenn was going home to change. She didn’t know why and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Glenn said she was coming back. And if she said she was coming back, she would.

  Twelve minutes later she appeared—Mari checked her watch when she saw Glenn striding across the green in black jeans and a snowy white T-shirt, her hair slicked back and damp. She looked even better than she had a few minutes before. She grinned and Mari knew she’d been caught looking. Not just looking—wanting. Too late to pretend otherwise.

  When Glenn drew near, she held out her hand. “Come on.”

  Mari didn’t even ask where they were going. She didn’t really care. She took Glenn’s hand and fell in beside her, the clasp of her fingers warm and reassuring and as natural as anything she’d ever experienced. When questions tried to surface in her mind, she resolutely put them aside. For the first time in a week, she was happy.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “I suppose I should’ve asked you,” Glenn said. “Do you mind heights?”

  Mari frowned as they walked across the green, slowing every few feet so Glenn could return a greeting. For someone so reserved, so private, Glenn had touched many lives. She was woven into the fabric of this place and Mari knew why. Glenn cared for the community as much as she cared for the individuals. This was a place where roots ran deep and Glenn had found her place, somewhere she might do the same, if she was lucky. She just wished she believed more in luck. Glenn was waiting for an answer, and looking at her, it was easy to forget the past and its hold on her life. Mari smiled. “Heights? You mean like tall bridges and rooftops? No, they don’t bother me. We’ve got plenty of overpasses in LA, and I’ve ridden over all of them. Major metropolis, remember?”

  “Well, this won’t be exactly like that, but hopefully better.” Glenn grabbed her hand and pulled her down a narrow passage between a jumble of air compressors, tanks, and other equipment into a clearing relatively free of people.

  A heavyset, florid-faced man in a bright yellow T-shirt tucked into oil-smeared canvas pants strode toward them. “You’re all set?”

  “Yeah,” Glenn said.

  He held out a clipboard. “I need you both to sign these waivers right here. You know, the usual. You won’t sue me if we all end up in a tree somewhere.”

  Glenn signed without bothering to read anything and handed the clipboard to Mari. “Frank is going to take us up for a ride.”

  Mari looked at the huge tangle of ropes and yellow-and-red-striped canvas lying on the ground. It looked exactly like an enormous deflated balloon. Which it was. “In that?”

  Her voice squeaked and Glenn laughed. “Once he pumps a little air into it and fires up the boiler, yes.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “You’re not scared, are you?”

  Oh yes, she was, but not of going up in a hot-air balloon. She’d never done it before, never even imagin
ed wanting to do it, but if Glenn was going to be there, she wanted to go too. And that’s what scared her. She wanted to go anywhere Glenn wanted to take her.

  Mari looked at the other balloons lifting off around them, most with one or two people aboard who looked like they were actually piloting the craft. Really, how crazy was that—relying on a sheet of cloth tied to an open furnace to fly around in. Frank and another younger man in jeans and a red T-shirt turned on an enormous fan, and the long sheet of colorful canvas began to fill and float above them. Mari was intrigued despite her misgivings. When Frank arranged something that looked a lot like a giant Sterno can under the balloon and lit an open flame, Mari gasped. Flames shot up toward the canvas balloon, which suddenly puffed up and went airborne. Long lines attached to large stakes in the ground kept it prisoner.

  “You’re kidding. Flames?”

  “The hot air makes the balloon rise.”

  Mari gave her a look.

  Glenn held out her hand in invitation. “So, want to go for a ride?”

  Yes, anything, anywhere, for a few minutes more with Glenn. The past week’s shadows evaporated in the brilliant glow of Glenn’s smile. Crazy or not, Mari gripped Glenn’s hand. “Tell me we’re not insane.”

  “I promise you’ll be fine.” Glenn was still grinning, but Mari sensed the seriousness behind her light tone. Glenn could be counted on, no matter what. She knew that in her bones. She’d counted on family, counted on her own body, and both had failed her. She should know better than to count on anyone, anything, but the still strength in Glenn’s gaze told her otherwise. This woman she could trust.

  “Then let’s go.” Mari headed for the makeshift set of stairs Frank had pushed up against the wicker basket. They teetered as she climbed, and Glenn steadied her from behind with a hand on her back.

  The baskets hanging below the other colorful, gas-filled balloons already floating off in the sky looked tiny from the ground, and when she got inside this one, the basket didn’t look any larger up close. A sign had said the basket held five, but Mari didn’t see how. There was barely a foot of space left over with the three of them inside. She glanced at Glenn, who was watching her with a faint look of amusement.

  “This really isn’t funny, you know.”

  “You did say you didn’t mind heights.”

  “You neglected to mention we’d be up in the air in something the size of a cereal box. And is there even any way to steer this thing?”

  “These lines right here help with piloting,” Frank said, climbing in with them. “Of course, they’re only good for a suggestion. Mostly the balloon goes where she wants.”

  Mari grimaced but held her protest. She was committed now—no quitting.

  Frank began untying the tethers and tossing them down to the ground. The basket bounced like a puppy eager to be let off its leash. “You don’t have to worry, miss. I’ve been piloting this rig since I could hardly see over the top of the basket.”

  “I hope not this very one,” Mari muttered. “They can’t have a life span of more than six months.” When she watched the canvas lift from the ground as the coiled tube pumped air into it, she didn’t actually think it could have a life span of more than a day or two. She prayed for at least another twenty-four hours. “I’m surprised they all don’t catch on fire.”

  Glenn chuckled. “It’s a delicate balance.”

  Mari didn’t doubt Frank’s lifetime of experience, but she would much rather have been watching the spectacle from the safety of one of the picnic tables. On the other hand, Glenn offered her a taste of adventure, and this one at least was relatively safe. The only thing that might get broken would be her head, not her heart.

  That thought brought her up short. Was her heart really at risk where Glenn was concerned? Her body and her sanity were definitely on the losing end of things—being anywhere in Glenn’s vicinity sent her heart rate into the stratosphere, and other parts of her body jolted awake with a mixture of pleasure and nagging need. Her mind blanked and basic instincts took charge. She was no stranger to the concept of sex or sexual desire, and even if she didn’t have the experience, she knew what she was feeling. Just thinking about Glenn aroused her. The sight of her, the sound of her voice, the merest brush of her hand ignited a flood of desire. She certainly wasn’t going to lie to herself about that. The reaction was natural, Glenn was gorgeous, and she rejoiced that her body had finally recovered from the assaults of the last year. But her heart? No, she hadn’t let things get that far out of hand. For now she’d let herself enjoy the attraction, within reason.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind,” Glenn said gently. “I want you to enjoy it.”

  Usually Glenn could read her mind, but thankfully not this time. She didn’t need to know Mari had just been debating whether it was wise to lust after her. As if she could stop it. I want you to enjoy it. Mari smiled. “I know you do, and I will. I want to go up.”

  Glenn glanced at Frank. “Good enough. We’re good to go.”

  Mari moved closer to Glenn as Frank released the last ropes holding them down. The bucket immediately shot up, swaying rapidly back and forth.

  “Oh!” Mari grabbed the rim of the basket that came about to her waist. She had no trouble at all imagining tipping forward and falling out. For an instant, her head spun.

  “Got you.” Glenn’s arms came around her from behind, her firm body pressed up against Mari’s back.

  “Thanks. Just caught me by surprise.” Mari laughed a little shakily. Maybe heights weren’t her thing after all.

  “There’s no way you’re going to fall,” Glenn murmured close to her ear.

  Mari had never been held so protectively by a stranger in her life. Glenn wasn’t really a stranger, far from it, but she wasn’t family and Mari wasn’t a little girl anymore. She hadn’t been cradled in anyone’s arms since one of the first nights in the hospital when her mother thought she was going to die. This was something completely beyond her experience, and she would’ve been happy if Frank the balloon man flew them across the entire country and beyond, as long as Glenn stayed behind her with her arms around her, holding her as if she always had and always would.

  “Better?”

  When Glenn moved as if to release her, Mari folded her arms over Glenn’s to keep her in place. She leaned back just a little until she was in complete contact with Glenn, her back fit into the curves of Glenn’s lean form. “Yes, but don’t move.”

  Glenn’s cheek brushed hers. “Fabulous view, isn’t it?”

  They weren’t so very high, but Mari felt as if she was floating in the clouds. To the east, the Vermont mountains rose purple and densely forested, the green unbroken by any sign of civilization, their peaks buried in snowy white, clouds or snow, she couldn’t be sure. Could there be snow in the mountains in July here like there was at home?

  “Not enough to ski on, but it gets pretty cold up there,” Glenn murmured, reading her mind again.

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “Yes.” Glenn’s voice sounded low and husky and Mari wondered, hoped, she wasn’t talking about the mountains.

  To the west, the village quickly gave way to rolling hills and pastures. The nearest city wasn’t even visible on the horizon, creating an otherworldly sense of passing back in time. Birds swooped below them, soaring from tree to ground and up again. People on the ground, small colorful patches of them, waved as they passed overhead.

  “Oh my God.” Mari laughed, pointing when they passed above a large, elaborate out-of-place mansion in the midst of acres of green, clearly meant to mimic some kind of Italian palazzo. Several people sunning by the pool made a quick grab for towels to cover their nakedness.

  Behind her Glenn chuckled, the sound reverberating between their bodies, low and exciting. “Happens at least once every year.”

  Mari tilted her head back to look at Glenn behind her. “You always go up?”

  “If I’m free.” Glenn rubbed her cheek lightly against Mari’
s, her lips just grazing Mari’s ear. It might have been an accident, the bucket swayed so much, but Mari chose to believe it wasn’t. “Always by myself, though.”

  “I’m glad you brought me up.”

  “So am I.”

  “How will we get back?”

  “If Frank can’t catch a backdraft and turn us around, there’ll be a chase car that will spot our landing and drive us home.” Glenn rubbed her palm lightly over Mari’s abdomen. “You okay with that?”

  “Yes.” As long as Glenn didn’t move, Mari didn’t care how long they’d be up in the air or how they’d get back. If the balloon man dropped them off in some little village a hundred miles away and they had to walk back, she didn’t care. She had no one to report to, no one who would worry about her. And no one she would rather be with. To her disappointment, though, after forty minutes or so, she began to realize Frank was slowly turning them, adjusting for the wind currents, and they began a circling return.

  Eventually the square came back into view and Frank adjusted the flame, turning it low, and did something to make the balloon begin to deflate. As the envelope, as she’d learned it was called, grew ever so slowly smaller and looser, they lost elevation. She gripped Glenn’s hand tightly.

  “There will be a little bump at the bottom, but nothing much. Frank really is very good.”

  “I’m fine,” Mari said, and she was.

  The basket hit the ground and skidded. Glenn held her steady and Mari laughed. “God, that was fun.”

  “Best ride I ever took,” Glenn murmured.

  Glenn’s arms stayed around her, and Mari wanted to turn within the circle of Glenn’s protective grasp and kiss her. She’d never wanted anything so much.

  “All set, folks,” Frank called from the ground.

  Glenn finally jumped out to wait for her on the short steps that Frank’s helper had pushed across the grass to the basket. When Mari climbed over the edge, Glenn caught her by the waist and swung her down. The movement was smooth and possessive, and a wave of desire poured over her. Feeling as free as she had soaring in the air, Mari let her hands fall onto Glenn’s shoulders and brush down over her chest. When her feet finally touched the ground, she kept her hands where they were. Glenn’s breasts strained against the white T-shirt, her nipples small and hard. Mari’s palms brushed over them, and Glenn gasped.