Kit put her hand in her pocket so he wouldn’t see her clench it into a fist. She tried to catch his eye. “Do you mean like the loss of your job? Or Phillip’s back injury?” She considered mentioning the cheating rumours and the talk about Caitlin stealing but wasn’t prepared to sink that low. Not until she knew there was more to them than vicious rumours.
Anthony didn’t appear furious or even put out. He had the appearance of a mannequin, his face blank and his body stiff. The likeness was heightened by his perfectly pressed suit trousers and starched white shirt. He was as silent as a mannequin, too.
Next to them, Alice put a hand to her brow, which snapped Anthony out of his frozen state. “Mummy is tired. That’s enough for tonight.”
He pointed to the door and then hovered a hand about half an inch from Kit’s back, as if loath to touch her but still wanting to usher her out. She was about to jump away from him and give him a piece of her mind when she noted how pale and stricken Alice was. Anthony was staring at Kit as if it was her fault. For a moment the mood in the room made her doubts creep back in. Maybe she was making a big deal out of nothing. Perhaps she was egging an old lady on to see danger and mysteries where there was nothing but a misplaced book.
Either way, Alice was clearly done for the day. Bringing up the will now would only upset her even more. Besides, it’d be of little use to have the chat about it now since only Anthony remained in a fit state to answer.
“Fine. We’ll call it a night for now,” Kit said. She gave Alice a quick hug and thanked her for the refreshments.
As she walked out with Anthony, leaving the quiet house and its oppressive mood behind, she thought back to the Post-It note from the library and the Caine family’s overly aggressive behaviour. How could she, even for a second, have thought there was nothing strange going on here? She set her jaw and debated how to ask Anthony about the will as soon as they were out of Alice’s earshot.
Any approach she picked would’ve been good, if only she’d gotten the chance. The moment they were outside, Anthony spun towards her and sniped, “Haven’t you wasted our time enough by now, you blasted, meddling outsider?” Then he darted to his car and sped away before Kit could digest what he said.
Ugh. Isn’t he charming? No wonder Alice suspects one of her sons of suspect behaviour, she thought as she began walking home.
Above her, the sky was darkening enough to show off a huge, full, butter-yellow moon. It was so bright it outshone the pale stars, making it look lonely in that big sky. Kit wished Laura were there for a romantic walk together. She got out the phone to call her. Even if Maximillian was there, they could at least discuss the evening’s Caine interactions and how they affected the case. Perhaps, they could even make plans to meet up soon.
After two rings there was a reply. Kit hadn’t noticed that her whole body was tense until she heard Laura’s voice greet her. She felt herself relax from top to toe.
“Hey, baby,” Kit said. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine, dearest. How are you? How did it go tonight?”
Kit adjusted her glasses. “It was… dramatic. Hey, do you wanna play ‘Which of the Caine Brothers is the Biggest Tosser’ with me?”
Laura giggled. “Of course. Tell me everything.”
And so Kit did.
Chapter Twelve
This One Has Sex in It
It was only ten past six, but Kit had already managed to come home from work and scoff down one of the leftover veggie-and-hummus wraps from the fridge. She had Rajesh locking up the library that evening to thank for all of her extra time. Sadly, as he was getting older and increasingly aware that Kit was the junior librarian, she was the one locking up most of the time these days.
Anyway, the workday was over, dinner had been sorted, and now the pot of chilli-chai tea Kit had just brewed awaited her. A new book waited for her, too; it was about the mother of a gifted child falling in love with the child’s teacher. A dose of sweet, Sapphic romance was exactly what she needed right now. She poured the tea, breathing in the scents of chilli and chai mingling with her wood-scented candle.1 She sat down on the sofa, sipped the tea with a delighted sigh, and chose her favourite font and page colour on her e-reader before starting to read.
The doorbell rang.
Bloody hell.
She lowered the e-reader, grunted, and considered ignoring it. The doorbell rang again, and she knew she had to be an adult and answer it.
“I’m coming,” she shouted. When the e-reader and the mug of tea were safely placed on her coffee table, she hurried to the offending door. Outside was the one visitor Kit would happily allow to ruin her reading experience, Laura. Kit’s chest and belly filled with drunk butterflies.
“Wow! Hey, babe! Why didn’t you use your key? I’m—”
Kit’s words were cut off by the sight of Maximillian muscling in front of his niece with an unlabelled glass jar held out as an offering.
“Susan!” he roared. “We have a sample of the new gooseberry jam. Invite us in and rustle up some scones or toasted bread or something. We must try this little beauty immediately!”
“Uh, sure, come in.”
He did so, and after him came Laura, gorgeous as ever but unusually sheepish. She whispered, “That’s why I didn’t use the key, my love. I wanted to give you some warning before I sprang my uncle on you.”
“A text, an email, or even an actual phone call could’ve been a good warning,” Kit said with a smile.
“I know,” Laura groaned. “I’m so sorry, but he’s on me like a hawk and never stops talking. It makes it very hard to get anything done or to have a moment to think things through. Besides, this visit was an impulse of his. He decided we needed a non-Howard to try the jam.”
Kit scratched her head. “Babe, I don’t have scones or any white bread. He doesn’t strike me as the type who likes wholegrain bread.”
“Please don’t worry about that, I’m sure we’ll find something.” Laura paused to look towards the kitchen. “I’m afraid the racket we hear is him going through your cabinets. We might want to stop him before he creates a mess.”
Kit halted to get her tea and then headed for the kitchen where the astronomical pain in her bum was currently rummaging through everything, searching for something to slather jam on. Kit wished he’d stick it on his own face.
Ten minutes later they were eating the last of the jam-drenched wholegrain bread. Maximillian did occasionally grumble something that sounded like “seeds.” Nevertheless, he hadn’t complained.
The fact that he was so busy with the bread and quiet assessment of the jam left Kit and Laura to sneak glances and play the “get as many innuendos and hidden flirtations into a chat about jam” game, which they had now invented. The game kept escalating.
Laura batted her long lashes. “Don’t you find the jam has a hint of almost feminine spice and a savoury tang in the taste? It reminds me of some other naughty treat. I just can’t put my finger on it right now.”
Whoa. She clearly needs to get laid as much as I do.
Kit surveyed her last bite of bread with jam dripping over the edge and onto her hand. “Yeah, I see your point, Laura. It does remind me of that, and all that inviting, sticky, sweet juice oozing out to coat my fingers right now only adds to the comparison,” Kit said, sure she’d gone too far with her last comment.
When she checked the reactions of the two Howards’ at her cramped kitchen table, she noted with relief that Maximillian was busy muttering about the fruit content while Laura… well, Laura was giving her the sort of look which made them end up fooling around in phone booths, that look now raked all the way from Kit’s socks, via her tight jeans and even tighter T-shirt, up to her mouth. Kit swallowed hard and tried to fight the rising heat.
Thank goodness Maximillian was occupied with poking one of the berries in the jam to miss what was without a doubt the most wicked and sexual glance Kit had ever been blessed to receive. No wonder she was suddenly burning up, with a s
light buzz between her legs.
In the potent silence, Laura oh so slowly slid the back of her fingers over her lips, across her jawline, and down her swan neck, making Kit have to fidget with how she sat.
Laura cleared her throat. “Uncle Maximillian, did you remember to tell Imelda that you can’t have carrots or parsnips anymore, since they make your ears hot?”
He swallowed his mouthful with a look of confusion. “Imelda. Is that the cook?”
No, it’s the towel rack, you numpty. She’s worked for your family for over thirty years, learn her name, Kit thought, all patience waning as her need for Laura grew.
“Yes, that’s her,” his incredibly patient niece said. “You might want to hurry.”
Kit fidgeted again, unable to get the wet, hot, aching mess between her legs comfortable. She could have sworn she had a fever.
“Hurry?” Maximillian queried. “Oh yes, before she leaves, you mean? Of course. Blasted woman. Putting carrots in everything. I’ll tell her to cease this madness forthwith.”
Kit wasn’t surprised that he left without saying goodbye. That was common practise with him. She was however flabbergasted by that he grabbed her scarf with a Star Wars motif off the coat rack as he did so.
When the door closed behind him, Laura said in a thick voice, “I’ll make sure he brings the scarf back. He has no idea that he took it or why he did so.”
Kit was about to say that didn’t matter when Laura added, “Oh, and he’ll be gone for a long time. Imelda went home hours ago, but he’ll still look all over for her. I tried this trick yesterday when I needed a chat with the employees.”
“Sneaky little vixen,” Kit said with a wink.
“Needs must and all that,” Laura said, blushing from either shame or sexual tension. Knowing her, it was probably both.
Kit smiled. “Good for you, honey.”
Their eyes connected, the intensity of it sending sparks through Kit. There was still arousal in the air, but now that they were alone, the mood had turned more romantic. More careful. Almost as if they were new lovers again. Had it been so long that they had grown a little shy of each other? Kit’s heart was beating so fast. When had it started racing like that?
“You know,” Laura said hoarsely, “that scented candle is quite strong. Mind if we go upstairs to get away from it?”
“Not at all, lead the way.”
As Laura left the room, Kit blew out the offending candle, even though she was sure it wasn’t Laura’s real reason for going upstairs.
She watched Laura walk up the uneven wooden stairs and take in the two rooms on either side of it. One of them was a boxroom that Kit used as storage space and the other was Kit’s bedroom. Laura sashayed into the bedroom in a way which made Kit suspect she knew that her girlfriend was watching every step and sway. The moonlight mixed with streetlight from outside the window, painting gold into Laura’s auburn curls.
She turned and smiled—no, beamed—at Kit. “Finally alone.”
“Finally alone,” Kit echoed in breathy tones.
Laura paced around, shooting shy glances at her and dragging out the moment of tentative coyness between them. It had a tinge of magic and Kit wanted it to never end, but at the same time, she was going crazy with the anticipation. Or rather, with the need.
She had never known love could run this deep. All of her earlier relationships paled in comparison to the one she had with Laura. This overwhelming fascination and affection had been woven into every part of her, from heart to soul to crotch, so that she couldn’t imagine who she’d be if she didn’t love Laura anymore.
Laura stopped by the full-length mirror and ran her hands over her wide hips. “Do you think I’ve put on weight?”
Kit switched on the light on her bedside table, used to this question. She always answered honestly and added that, whatever weight Laura currently was, it suited her. Which was true. Everything suited this woman. It was unfair but amazing.
With the room now illuminated, Kit replied, “I’m not sure. Take your clothes off, and I’ll have a good look.”
“Kit!”
“What? How else can I give you an honest answer?”
Laura bit her red-tinted lip. “Well, I suppose that is why I’m here.”
“Oh yeah?” Kit’s heartbeat picked up even more. She moved closer and followed up with, “You didn’t just come here to test the jam?”
Laura’s hazel eyes darkened. “You know what I came for.”
“Mm. ‘Came’ being a very well-chosen word, beautiful,” Kit whispered. She didn’t manage to make it sound like that rich, boozy, flirty purr Laura’s voice always held, but it still did the trick. Without a word of reply, Laura stepped out of her shoes and unzipped her dress, throwing it over a chair.
There she stood, in the glory of only her underwear in the dim glow of the room. The swell of her chest heaved with rapid breath, and those much-adored eyes showed desire, love, and vulnerability. She was more beautiful than any creature had any right to be.
Kit’s knees buckled so that she nearly lost her balance. Laura reached for her, and they collided without grace or thought.
Finally. No Maximillian. No Charlie Baxter. No interfering Greengagers in general. And no one was in a public phone booth or a cramped broom closet.
It was just two women in love, now kissing, grabbing, caressing, and undressing each other like starving people reaching for food. And bloody hell, did Laura taste good. Her mouth, her skin, her… everything. She tasted like all Kit had ever needed or wanted. She was high off the scent of Laura’s hair and the feel of her hands.
Soon Kit was so light-headed with arousal and forgetting to breathe that she had to lay down. Laura took the opportunity to remove Kit’s remaining clothes and her glasses and kiss her from top to toe.
Kit squirmed under her. They didn’t have time for foreplay! She had waited too long. She needed Laura in a much more immediate way.
The sneaking around had been fun and so was this stolen moment, but Kit had no patience left. She couldn’t wait, couldn’t even think anymore. She needed something thoroughly physical. If this woman wasn’t inside her within the next fifteen seconds, Kit was going to sue the whole bloody island!
“Laura, I can’t do this slow and sweet. I need you to… well, sort of just get on with it and shag me silly, please. And unusually for me, I’m talking penetration.”
Kit wasn’t sure what reply she’d expected to that. A laugh? A witty, sexy retort? A turned-off grimace? What she got was a look of such animal lust that she actually gasped. Clearly, Laura was beyond rational thought and foreplay, too.
There was no talk about fifteen seconds. Kit was being truly and thoroughly ravished by Laura Howard the very next moment.
After that, followed an hour of some of the best sex Kit had ever had.
Not because it was thought-through, nicely orchestrated, or very skilled—in fact, they kept bumping their noses when kissing and rolling around while trying to decide whose turn it was to be on top—but because it was so sorely needed. Both their bodies showed it. Kit couldn’t remember being so quickly re-aroused after orgasm since she was a teenager. Nor could she remember that Laura’s moans had been quite this addictive. Or loud. Or bloody perfect.
By the time Kit found herself sweaty, satisfied, and soaked, with her cheek resting against Laura’s crotch, she knew that they’d waited far too long to do that.
“You,” she said, “are the best lover I have ever known.”
“I feel the same about you. Although, I wonder,” Laura panted back, “if there’s such a thing as a great lover. Or if it has more to do with being in sync with your partner?” She had to pause for a ragged breath. “For example, if you like it rough and your partner does, too, you would both find the other a good lover, right?”
Kit placed a kiss on Laura’s pubic bone, the auburn curls covering it tickling her mouth. “Wow, that last climax made you all philosophical. Do you mean that it’s all subjective? Dep
ending on what you want in bed?”
Laura sucked in another panting breath. “Yes, I think so. That and that it takes two to tango. You both need to be on the same page, enjoy the same thing, and be under the same circumstances. I mean, if you’re in a hurry and your partner is taking their time—the intercourse, kiss, whatever it is—might not be very successful.”
“You’re very clever,” Kit said, placing another kiss into those damp curls.
Laura made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a snort. “That would be surprising, considering you just shagged my brains out.”
Kit sniggered, more than a little proud, and crawled up Laura’s body until they were face to face for a kiss. She was about to ask if Laura thought they’d manage an encore after a break for some tea and a sandwich.
Sadly, she never got that far.
From downstairs came a creak and an almighty thud.
Kit sat up and quickly put her glasses on. That was my front door. Bloody hell, didn’t I lock it?
A male voice coughing rang out and then came the words, “Laura? Susan—I mean Kit? Are you upstairs?”
Great. Now he learns my name.
Laura yelped before gathering herself to call back, “Yes, Uncle Maximillian. We’re…” She gave Kit a pleading look.
Kit scanned the room for an excuse. “We’re changing Laura’s bra,” she settled on. “She spilled jam into her cleavage, and it ruined the bra. I’m lending her one of mine right now.”
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