Radclyffe - Fated Love

by Fated Love (lit)

  No point going there. Time to start on the bedroom. She tried to remember where she had seen the box marked Sheets and, on her way down the hall, glanced at the plain, round clock she had hung from a hook in the kitchen. Almost noon. She skittered to a stop.

  "Hell. I still have to shower, get dressed, and figure out where to buy wine." A surge of happiness caused her to smile. "Guess I can't do any more unpacking,"

  Thirty minutes later, she was clean and dressed in faded jeans, Nike running shoes, and a navy blue polo shirt. She spread out the plastic city street map on the kitchen counter and opened the neighborhood guide next to it. She found an ad for a wine and liquor store in her zip code and traced the street names on the map until she knew how to get there. She slid her wallet into her rear pocket, her keys into her right front one, and set out for the barbecue.

  Once in the liquor store, she took a few minutes to choose both a bottle of red and a bottle of white wine. Then it occurred to her that she should bring something for the hostess.

  "Where's Jude when I really need advice?" she muttered to herself. Saxon Sinclair had been more than just Quinn's former boss. The chief of trauma at St. Michael's, and her partner, Jude Castle, a documentary filmmaker, had been good friends. The year of her trauma fellowship had been an intense time when she had spent nearly seventy-five percent of her waking hours in Sinclair's company. In addition to their constant physical proximity and similar professional goals, they had discovered a number of other interests in common. Now Quinn owed her present job to Sax and a great deal of her sanity to Jude.

  Giving herself a shake, Quinn took the wine to the counter and paid. Then she stepped out onto the sidewalk and looked around for some kind of shop where she could pick up a small thank-you gift for Linda.

  * * * * *

  "Honor, could you get that?" Linda, up to her wrists in potato salad, asked when the doorbell rang.

  "Sure." Honor reached for the dish towel and dried her hands on the way through the house to the front door. She pushed the screen door open and regarded the woman who stood on the other side with her arms laden with packages. She took in the dark blue shirt that matched the gorgeous eyes and the long, clean lines of her, liking the way she looked with that half-shy, half-cocky grin on her handsome face. "Hi, Quinn."

  "Hi." Quinn's initial surprise at seeing Honor at the door was quickly eclipsed by the sight of Honor in casual clothes. She wore cargo shorts and a cotton T-shirt that displayed her smoothly toned arms and legs. Her hair was pulled back with some kind of tie at the back and she looked about twenty. For some reason, Quinn always had difficulty not looking at Honor's breasts, and today was no exception. The T-shirt clung to her curves in all the right places, leaving just enough to the imagination to make Quinn's throat go dry and her pulse race.

  Both women jumped at the sound of Linda's voice behind them.

  "I thought maybe you got lost out here, Honor. Hi, Quinn." Linda looked from her friend to Quinn and back again, noting the simultaneous blushes and shuffling feet. Smiling to herself, she reached out her arms. "I take it those are for me?"

  "Yeah," Quinn mumbled as she shifted bags around, handing over the wine. "I got red and white, because I couldn't figure out what else to do."

  Both Honor and Linda laughed. Honor finally stepped aside so Quinn could enter.

  "And this is for you and your family." Quinn held out a rectangular package about the size of a shoe box.

  "Oh, a present!" Linda shamelessly clutched the box to her chest while simultaneously pushing the wine into Honor's arms. "I love presents. Let's go into the kitchen so I can open this."

  Not waiting for a reply, Linda turned and hurried away, leaving Honor and Quinn to follow.

  "How did you know?" Honor asked, laughing gently.

  "Know what?"

  "That she adores surprises."

  "Just lucky."

  Honor glanced up at Quinn, aware that Quinn had been watching her intently as they walked through the house. "That was very nice of you."

  "It was kind of her to invite me."

  Yes, and I didn 't want her to. At the moment, Honor couldn't remember why that was. She was inexplicably happy to see her new colleague.

  "Will you two hurry up," Linda called from the kitchen.

  "Go ahead, open the darn thing," Honor said affectionately as she and Quinn crowded around Linda at the kitchen table.

  Linda lifted the lid from the box and carefully folded back the tissue paper, giving a small cry of pleasure. Carefully, she lifted out a small crystal wind chime. The delicate glass rods, suspended from a polished silver disk by clear nylon strands, varied in length from four to ten inches and sparkled with a rainbow of colors. When she gently brushed them with her fingers, the tinkling sounds were high and pure.

  "It's beautiful," Linda breathed. She glanced at Quinn in delight. "Thank you so much. That was so kind of you."

  Quinn blushed. "My pleasure."

  "I think we should put it in the tree in the backyard, don't you, Honor?"

  "Sure. You'll be able to hear it inside when the windows are open."

  "Could you put it up now?" Linda gave Honor a hopeful glance. "Pleeaase?"

  Honor smiled, shaking her head. "Can anyone ever say no to you?"

  "Not that I can ever recall," Robin said fondly as she came through the back door. She nodded at Quinn and extended her hand. "Hi. I'm Robin, Linda's spouse."

  "Quinn Maguire." Quinn took the sturdy hand and shook it firmly. "Nice to meet you."

  "Look, honey." Linda held up the wind chime, causing the rods to ring melodiously once again. "Quinn brought it for us. Isn't it great?"

  "Beautiful." Robin slid her arm around Linda's waist and kissed her cheek. "I'd put it up for you myself, but I just fired up the grill. Aren't I supposed to be cooking something?"

  "You go tend to the barbecue," Honor said, reaching for the wind chimes. "I'll put this up. Where's the ladder?"

  "In the garage," Robin said. "If you give me a minute, I'll get it for you."

  Honor shook her head. "Never mind. I can find it. The tools are in there, too, aren't they?"

  "Wait until Robin can help," Linda cautioned. "I don't want you climbing up in that tree by yourself. All we need is for you to fall and break your ne..."

  Linda's face paled as her words trailed off. She looked stricken.

  Honor blinked, then gave her friend a kind smile. Her voice was gentle when she spoke. "Not to worry."

  "I'll give her a hand," Quinn volunteered into the silence that ensued. She glanced at Honor, trying to decipher the expression on her face. Not unhappiness exactly—more like a poignant sadness. Hesitantly, she added, "If that's okay."

  "Perfect," Linda said, squeezing Honor's hand and then making shooing motions with her own. "Everybody out so I can get the rest of this organized. Robin, who has kid duty?"

  "Phyllis is playing Trivial Pursuit Junior with the older ones, and Bill and Sue are taking a lifeguard shift by the pool."

  "Okay, then. All bases are covered. Go. Go."

  Obediently, the three trooped out. Quinn and Honor headed for the garage behind the house while Robin returned to the center of activity in the backyard.

  "Looks like quite a crowd," Quinn observed, taking in the gathering of men, women, and children of all ages. She had a moment of feeling completely out of place, but when she glanced at Honor, she didn't care. She just liked being around her.

  "Linda and Robin's parties are legend. Plus, once they invite all their kids' friends, then they have to invite all the parents. Most everybody knows everybody else because of soccer, anyhow."

  "Soccer is big here, I take it," Quinn remarked, standing aside as Honor rolled up the garage door.

  "You could say that." Honor laughed. "From the middle of the summer until the snow falls, our lives revolve around soccer. Afternoon practices, Saturday morning games—which, by the way, start next weekend—and all of the events surrounding that. It's a social phe
nomenon."

  "Sounds like fun." Quinn realized that she meant it. She hadn't done much of anything except study and work for over a decade. She had participated in organized sports in college, but once involved in the clinical portion of her medical training, followed quickly by residency, she hadn't done anything except work. It occurred to her as she watched Honor sorting through a toolbox that she'd never had anything approaching a normal life. She wasn't sure she wanted one. Or that she'd know what to do, even if she had one. That hardly matters, since it's not likely to happen.

  Honor turned abruptly, a hammer in her hand, and caught the contemplative look on Quinn's face. Those piercing blue eyes were fixed on her, but Honor didn't think the other woman was actually seeing her. She appeared lost in thought, and there was a hint of both melancholy and resignation in her expression. It surprised Honor and just as quickly touched a chord in her. For one wild moment, she had the irrational urge to reach out and stroke Quinn's cheek.

  "Found it," Honor said softly.

  Quinn gave a small start, then smiled sheepishly. "How about the ladder?"

  "Over there,'' Honor indicated with an index finger. "Can you handle it? I'm going to hunt for a hook of some kind."

  "No problem." Quinn took the ladder down from the double hooks that held it to the wall and rested it over one shoulder. She carefully maneuvered it out of the garage, taking care not to pivot abruptly and endanger Honor's head. "Ready when you are."

  Honor, carrying the tools and the wind chime, led the way around the periphery of the crowd toward a large maple that loomed high above the rear corner of the house. A horizontal limb stretched out above the back deck below and arched over the slanted roof toward the rear bedroom windows. Honor pointed upward. "That's Linda and Robin's bedroom. If we get this up on that branch, they'll be able to hear it in the house."

  Quinn craned her neck and estimated the distance. "It's probably twenty feet up to that limb. How are you on heights?"

  "Piece of cake." Honor studied Quinn speculatively. "Why?"

  "I...uh...I hate being more than two feet above sea level. I have to take Valium to get into an airplane,"

  "Why, Dr. Maguire," Honor laughed, charmed by the genuine blush that suffused Quinn's face. "I never would have imagined that a stunning butch like you would be afraid of anything."

  Quinn's mouth dropped open at precisely the same instant that Honor's eyes grew wide with shock. '

  Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that.

  Did she just say that I was stunning?

  "I mean...that is..."

  "Ah...I..."

  Honor finally recovered her voice, if not her composure. She pointed over her head with the hammer. "Shall we?"

  Quinn nodded, then realized that she still held the ladder balanced on her shoulder and quickly moved forward. She found level ground for the foot supports and braced the top against the tree limb. Just looking up made her queasy. As Honor stepped onto the first rung, she murmured, "I'm quite happy to be out-butched in this particular instance, Dr. Blake. As unusual as that may be."

  A flush rose up the back of Honor's neck. "Just hold steady."

  "Don't worry," Quinn said firmly. "I'm not letting go."

  Honor turned and looked down into Quinn's eyes. She found the calm strength in them comforting. "Thanks."

  "My pleasure."

  As Honor made her way nimbly up the ladder, Arly appeared by Quinn's side. "Hi, Quinn."

  "Hi Arly." Quinn spared Arly a glance before looking back up to where Honor now leaned out to one side, screwing a small hook into the horizontal portion of the tree limb. "How you doing?"

  "My stitches itch."

  "Uh-huh." Quinn couldn't take her eyes off Honor. Don't stretch out so far. Jesus!

  "What's my mom doing up there?"

  "She's hanging a wind chime."

  "Is that what's making that noise?"

  "Uh-huh." Quinn's throat was dry and her pulse racing. Honor's thighs were braced against the ladder, but she wasn't holding on since she needed both arms to affix the nylon loop over the hook. Hurry up. Just come down. If you stay up there much longer, I'm going to embarrass myself,

  "Neat." Having satisfied her curiosity, Arly ran off to rejoin her friends.

  To Quinn's complete and utter relief, Honor started to back down the ladder. Now that her anxiety was abating, Quinn was able to appreciate the toned thighs and enticing backside coming her way. She stood with her legs spread on either side of the ladder and both arms holding it just above shoulder level to steady it. As Honor descended, she unconsciously slid down between Quinn's arms until her body was between Quinn and the ladder. As Honor's, hair brushed Quinn's cheek, Quinn's mouth was millimeters from Honor's neck. Her breasts pressed lightly against Honor's back.

  If she moved her hips forward half an inch, her pelvis would rest against the soft swell of Honor's buttocks.

  And Quinn very much wanted to do just that. She could smell Honor's sweet scent-—spices and fruit and some deeper aroma, like warm fertile earth just turned in the sun. There were tiny beads of sweat collected along the edge of her jaw, and Quinn wanted to lick them off. Her heart pounded wildly, her stomach did one slow roll, and everything from her waist down turned to fire. She gasped sharply, surprised by the hard pulse of desire.

  "Quinn." Honor's voice was pitched low, husky.

  "Yes?" The word came out on a warm breath that lifted the hair at the base of Honor's neck.

  "I can't get to the ground unless you move." Honor turned her head, her lips almost brushing Quinn's ear. Quinn's body was like a furnace, throwing off enough heat to warm her all the way through. To sear her in places that had been untouched for so long that the sensation terrified her. She trembled. "Please."

  "I'm sorry," Quinn said quickly, stepping back. Holy God. What am I doing? She's married! But why doesn 't it feel that way?

  Honor made it down and turned. Her voice was shaking, but she smiled. "No problem. Thanks for the spot."

  "Sure."

  Quinn lifted a hand toward Honor's face, and Honor's eyes grew round. Carefully, Quinn brushed her fingers through Honor's hair. "You've got a leaf in your hair."

  Honor held her breath as gentle fingers extracted the offending object. In her mind's eye, she could see Quinn's hand gently cradling a beating heart. Such wonderful hands.

  "There you go." Quinn released the leaf and it fluttered away on the breeze. Her eyes bore into Honor's. You 're so beautiful.

  "I should get this stuff back to the garage." Honor indicated the ladder and tools, but she didn't move. I don't want you to touch me. I don't.

  Quinn shook her head. "I'll do it. I think your presence is required elsewhere."

  Honor looked in the direction that Quinn indicated. Arly was waving frantically, trying to get her attention. It looked as if she was ready to go into the pool. "So it seems. I should go."

  "Yes."

  Motionless, Quinn watched as Honor walked to the edge of the pool and sat down, dangling her legs over the side while Arly joined half a dozen children in the water. The sunlight sparkled on her hair, and Quinn remembered the way those soft strands had felt sliding through her fingers just minutes before. It felt like forever before the trembling in her legs subsided enough for her to move.

  Chapter Eight

  H onor watched the eddies swirl and splash around her feet as she circled her legs in the clear blue water. Those churning currents echoed the turmoil in her depths, as if she were poised to break into a million bright, sparkling droplets and fly away on the wind. She clutched the edge of the pool so tightly her knuckles turned white. What's happening to me?

  "Mom! Watch me, Mom," Arly called.

  Dutifully, Honor raised her head and smiled as her daughter cannonballed into the deep end of the pool. Terry had taught Arly to swim as an infant, and she was as comfortable in water as she was in air. Honor nodded encouragingly when Arly broke through the surface and looked expectantly in Honor's dire
ction, but her mind was elsewhere. She turned her head a fraction and glanced back toward the house. Quinn still stood beneath the maple, the ladder upright by her side, one arm hooked over a rung. She was incredibly attractive standing there, looking directly at Honor. Looking at me like I'm the only one here.

  Quickly, Honor turned away. Her heart pounded, and she still sensed the faint pressure of Quinn's body against her back. As Quinn's chest had brushed fleetingly against her, she had felt the unmistakable impression of nipples hardening beneath soft fabric. Quinn's, and her own. She closed her eyes, shivering. The rush of arousal that had accompanied that brief contact was overwhelming. It was the last thing she had expected to feel. The furthest thing from her desires. She had neither sought nor welcomed the excitement, but her body had embraced it as naturally as the next breath. She was stunned, horrified, and completely undone. I don't want this. I don't.

  * * * * *

  Mechanically, Quinn carried the ladder and tools back to the garage and stowed them away. She pulled down the door and then stood by the corner of the building to look out over the wide rectangular yard. A split-rail fence, nearly obscured by rhododendrons and small shrubs, ran along the opposite side and rear, isolating the property from the view of neighbors. A wooden picnic table sat under the huge maple tree, and lawn chairs were scattered about nearby A long expanse of grass ran down the gently sloping rear of the property, and a swimming pool occupied a portion of that area. The pool was currently the center of activity, with most of the children in it, and a fair number of their parents sitting nearby and observing.

  But only one person captured Quinn's attention.

  It was as if no one existed for her except Honor. The pull that drew her to Honor had been present since the first moment they had met, and although she didn't understand it, the feeling was too overpowering to deny. She wanted to be sitting there in the sun beside her, watching the children swim, talking of nothing and everything. She wanted the hand that curled around the damp tiled edge of the pool to be resting on her thigh, the way it had done so briefly in the car. Lightly, casually, confidently—as if she were Honor's own.