by April Worth
“Thanks.”
She continued on. “Anyway, we got married by the ocean, near where we lived. She loved the water. My father in his wisdom decided to try to reassure the bride by plying her with liquor.”
Blonde brows rose.
“I have wedding photos with Natasha looking greener than the seaweed.”
Joanne scoffed, looking out of the slightly filmy window. “My wedding photos turned out OK. I think there are more photos of Owen than there are of me. He could be such a pretty boy.”
Jean thought to herself. She imagined Jo would have looked stunning. The mane of pale hair bunched and regal, the long flowing white dress over her tapered figure. “I’d imagine you looked gorgeous?”
“Thank you, I was worried about my figure going to hell once I had Annabelle. Thank God for policing and gym.”
Jean swept over her with her eyes. “You’d never tell.”
They talked for hours, an easy rapport back and forth. Family, friends, politics and religion. A few differences but a lot of similarities. Jo only realised the time when she saw the staff stacking chairs. “Shit Jean, it's one in the morning.” A quick glance at her silver watch.
Weary eyes smiled at her. “Doesn’t feel like it, guess I’ll need a coffee to go?”
They stood together, Jo laid her hand over Jean’s. “You have an hour’s drive ahead of you to get home?”
A nod. “I’ll manage.”
Joanne looked her up and down with a tilt of her head. “You look tired.”
The look was returned with amused brown eyes. “You get that at one a.m. Joanne?”
The policewoman crossed her arms. “I don’t like it.”
The shorter woman rubbed her bicep reassuringly. “Jo. It’s OK, really.” Her yawn didn’t help her case.
The blonde nudged an imaginary rock with her boot. She thought for a moment. “You can come home with me?”
Both dark brows hiked up. “Excuse me?”
“I have a guest bedroom. I’ll take the squad car back to the station. You can follow me. I’ll leave my car there. Then I’ll drive your car back to my house, you can drop me at the station in the morning.” An unperturbed look. She had it worked out.
“Jo..”
“Jean. Cop, remember?”
“Jo..”
“Jean, driver fatigue is responsible for almost thirty percent of all vehicular accidents.”
They stared at each other for a while. A subtle arch of a blonde brow as Jo crossed her arms. She decided on a simpler approach. “I have handcuffs. I can cuff you to the car if I wanted to.”
The gardener smiled. “This is a threat yeah?”
A roll of grey eyes. “Just..get in the car. Follow me.” They paid for dinner, and walked out to the parking lot.
***
She followed Jo wearily back to the station, parking in the visitor’s bays outside while Jo ducked inside to leave the squad car. Her own white sedan parked where she left it. Around the back behind the high locked gate. She had gone inside, wanting to secure her weapons in the lockup, preferring not to take them home.
Eventually she re-emerged and knocked on the driver’s side window. “Out.”
Jean wound down her window with a smart look. “Yes Officer, what seems to be the problem?”
Joanne opened her door and reached over to unclip her belt. “Out. I’m driving.”
A groan and the older woman slipped out, allowing Jo into the driver’s seat. The blonde put the seat back to accommodate her longer legs. Feeling around and getting her bearings. Jean got into the passenger side.
“It’s manual. That’s a gear stick.”
“Be quiet, I know what I’m doing. The squad car is manual, this thing pre-dates the invention of the wheel..” A hand moved the mirrors to suit her height, a quick look over her shoulder as she clipped in her belt.
“So authoritative Jo? I like a woman in uniform.”
The blonde reached over placing a hand on Jean’s thigh. It got her immediate attention, despite her passenger’s tiredness. She leant in to whisper, her slightly husky voice hot in Jean's ear. “If you ever want me to ‘frisk’ you, Jean Patterson..you’ll do as I say. Now shush.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Chapter 20
Joanne’s street was quiet at night. Mostly families, their kids tucked up in bed, or older couples. Kerry’s lights were out too, the green of her new garden muted under the streetlights.
A look of dread came over Jo’s face as they turned the corner, coming to a slow halt on the other side of the road. The old ute rumbling evenly as it idled. Her house was dark too, but a familiar car was parked in the drive. An SUV with silver paintwork.
“Shit.”
Jean sighed. “Let me guess?”
Jo nodded, observing the dark windows of the house, the car sitting dormant outside.
“He has keys right?”
Jo slumped back in her seat, resting her hands on the wheel. “Yes. Damn it, he has terrible timing.”
Jean watched her friend. It was obvious she was tired, wanting likely nothing more than to sink into her bed and sleep. A confrontation and domestic dispute on the lawn was the last thing she needed. Jean wasn’t particularly fond of the man either. Even if she didn’t have feelings for Jo, Owen was still a bully, and she didn’t like bullies.
“We could go to a hotel?” She offered.
Jo turned to look at her. “I don’t even have a change of clothes, and I want my bed. He’s probably sleeping in it right now.” Her teeth gritted, she went to open the door, a hand on her arm stopped her.
“Jo?”
“What?”
“There must be a hotel around here that could check us in? I can pay, it’s all right.”
“But..?”
“Jo, you’ve had a long day. It’s just a different bed. Your uniform should be OK for another day right? It’s not worth fighting with him at one in the morning. Besides, we can come by early tomorrow? He might even be out, or gone? You could change, then I’ll drop you off. If you go in there now..?”
The blonde policewoman growled, annoyed, staring at the dark bedroom window. She had been looking forward to getting some sleep, and Jean had a long emotional day too, she was putting her out. She’d insisted that her friend shouldn’t drive home.
Joanne looked toward the house, sighing with resignation. “There’s a hotel about ten minutes from here that might check us in.” She looked at her watch. “Sound OK?”
Jean nodded, rubbing her friend’s shoulder, yawning softly under her hand.
They drove quietly, both thinking. Eventually they reached a hotel, close to the city and about eight storeys of modern glass and concrete design. Jo slid out of the driver’s side door. The creaky clank as the door closed. Jean was rummaging in the back seat. She kept a spare t-shirt there. In case she got messy before a meeting. At least it was clean to sleep in. A soft peep as the old car locked. They walked toward reception, pleased to find it still staffed by one weary looking worker.
He stood up straighter seeing Jo’s uniform. Jean realised that sometimes it must have its advantages.
His voice was polite, he stifled a yawn with his hand. “I’m sorry. What can I do for you Officer?”
Grey eyes watched him as he checked the monitor behind the counter. “We’d like a double room if you have one available? I realise it’s late.”
The short man with a soft Arabic accent looked them over. Jo crossed her arms over her chest.
He looked at her earnestly, then to Jean, who was searching through her wallet. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but as you understand this is our busiest time of year. We have two rooms available without a prior booking. The penthouse and the honeymoon suite.”
A blonde brow arched, she looked at Jean who shrugged.
“I see. Prices?”
He pulled out a brochure and his booking forms. The penthouse was exorbitantly expensive during peak season, and gave them the slim advantage of breakfast t
hat they weren’t likely to eat, and a sofa in addition to the bed.
Joanne sighed, clearly uncomfortable. “And the..honeymoon suite?”
This made the staffer look at them curiously. Jo sighed and rolled her eyes, hyper aware of his curiosity. He sensed her impatience. The room was more reasonably priced, but of course, was intended for a couple.
Jean yawned, pulled out a wad of notes, counting through them. “We’ll take it.”
Jo turned to look at her with a frown on her angular face.
Dark eyes looked back. “Jo, relax. It’s not perfect, but we both need sleep. If you like I’ll sleep on the floor?”
The receptionist attempted to be helpful, still not quite sure what had stumbled in at so late an hour. “It has a king size bed?”
The policewoman shook her head, pulling out her purse and handing over her credit card. She had it in case of emergency, for times like this when she needed money fast.
“I’ll get it Jo..”
Joanne shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m the one who dragged you here.” Jean frowned as the wallet went back into her pants. She resolved to slip the money into Jo’s purse when she wasn’t looking.
They filled out the paperwork and were handed the card keys. A point of a cardigan covered arm and they were directed to the fifth floor. Walking behind her, Jean could sense the scowl on Jo’s face.
Chapter 21
A soft peep as the card slid through the slot, a click as the door opened. Jo was the first through, looking around. For a honeymoon suite at least it wasn’t tacky. A large crisply made bed with vases of roses and small lamps either side. A breakfast nook and a flat screen. Black and white themed throughout, spotted with the red of the flowers, and a view of the city and hills outside.
Jo set Jean’s keys down on the counter top with a soft clink. The older woman nodded, noting where they were.
A soft sigh from the policewoman, no sofa, only a bed, a large one. It looked inviting after the long day she’d had. Her eyes flitted over Jean’s back, who was setting the alarm on her watch.
“Jean, I’m going to take a shower.”
“OK, I’ll go after you.”
The balcony outside had been tempting since she walked in. Jean needed a little air, the first opportunity alone. The call in the afternoon from Ellie, dropping everything to rush to the hospital worried out of her mind. By now it was almost one thirty, her day had been exhausting, emotionally draining. The traffic outside had dissipated, the occasional hum as a car passed by. The fifth floor, the breeze fluttered through her hair. Jean looked up, the settling clouds over layers of deep blue looked like the ocean. The night rolling into early morning.
It came over her without warning. The smell of salty sea air. The talk earlier with Jo. She found herself sniffling, the sniffles became sobs. A tanned hand rubbed her eyes. She tried to keep it together, but the tears came. Sometimes old wounds had a way of reopening with the right injury, the right memory. There were some things she didn’t talk about. Jean turned around. At least Joanne was still in the shower, she could clean herself up before she came out. Then it would be her turn followed by sleep. Well, as much sleep as she could get lying awkwardly next to Jo.
She turned back to face the open air. Closing her eyes tightly. A few lingering tears escaped before they were brushed away.
Jean hadn’t heard the soft padding across the carpet. The lone figure staring out at the fading stars got Jo’s attention quickly. Jean was usually so vibrant, the smart mouth and cheeky grin were missing today. She missed her usual sparkle. Seeing her now, Jean seemed small and vulnerable, hunched over herself on the rail.
The blonde’s annoyance at their predicament was replaced by worry. “Jean? You OK?” She stood behind the shorter woman.
The gardener looked over her shoulder briefly, glancing at the policewoman. She did her best to avert her eyes. The blonde’s sports bra straps were visible above the towel wrapped around her. She’d sleep in her undergarments, saving her uniform. Her damp hair drying over her shoulders and chest.
The brunette sighed softly to herself. “It’s OK Jo. I’m fine.”
Jo noticed under her eyes looked darkened and swollen, as though she’d been crying. It was visible even with Jean’s olive complexion.
She stepped forward and squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “You don’t look fine?”
The policewoman stood motionless when the quiet went on too long. “I’m worried, what’s wrong?”
The gardener looked out toward the sky. “You have enough to worry about Jo. I’m fine. Really.”
She didn’t believe her. A shake of her head tussled the damp locks. A long arm slid around Jean’s shoulders, pulling the shorter woman back against Jo’s chest. Jean gasped softly in surprise at the affection. A hesitant kiss against the older woman’s temple. Jean’s shorter frame fit so well in her arms.
Jo’s brows furrowed. Emotional chats were not her thing, she was often accused of being abrupt and cold. She just found it hard to connect sometimes. As a police Officer she had to calm people down all the time. But this, her friend was upset, in pain. But she didn’t know why.
“I have ways of making you talk.” She joked, trying to lighten the mood. Sleep would have to wait, this felt important.
Jean chuckled softly. “Is that so?”
Jo placed her hands over her companion’s biceps, rubbing gently, feeling the chill of the early morning.
“Is it Scott?”
Jean leant back into the comforting taller frame behind her. “Yes and no.” Jo was listening quietly.
“Today just..I was so worried. It brought up a lot of old memories, a few healed wounds, it’s made me remember.”
Joanne leant her chin on Jean’s shoulder, surprised herself that she felt comfortable supporting her. Her arms shifted from Jean’s shoulders to around her waist.
“Go on, I’m listening.”
Sighing softly, she hesitated from nuzzling into the warm embrace, worried Jo would think she was clingy and emotional. “I suppose seeing Scott in that hospital bed, helpless..it just made me think of Natasha. Getting the call, Ellie crying, not knowing. He’s like family to me.”
“You two seem close?”
“He’s like a son to me Jo.”
Nodding against her shoulder. “What else is bothering you?”
Jean sniffled, but quickly wiped her eyes. Her voice sounded different, small and quiet. “Today was hard. Dredged up a lot of old feelings. It’s funny, thinking back. When Natasha died we were in a rough spot. I bought that boat thinking the ocean air and love for the sea would be something that could bring us together. Now all it reminds me of is loss.” She took a ragged breath, struggling to keep her even tone.
She glanced over her shoulder at Jo’s grey eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to drag you through all my old bullshit.”
They stood there a moment, Jo rubbing little circles with her thumbs over the shirt. “Why did you take me out in the yacht, if sailing upset you so much?”
The older woman’s breaths were becoming calmer, even. “I felt drawn to you. I wanted to help.” It was the truth.
Joanne sighed softly, tilting her head to kiss Jean’s cheek. She stepped away.
“Come with me.” Gently requested, barely above a whisper.
She held out a hand, a crinkle of her brow and the older woman took it, and was led toward the bed. Joanne got in first, dropping the towel on the nearby table, her bare abdomen and satin underwear now visible. A long lean hourglass figure, curvy hips and a flat stomach. She pulled back the sheets and waited for her companion to take off her boots. Jean smiled cautiously as her knee slid over the mattress.
Jo was watching her, twirling her wrist as she slid down to lay on her side. “Turn around.”
She did as she was told, lying on her side, facing the balcony. She felt Jo’s warm palm rubbing over her back, the taller woman lying behind her. Jean was kissed softly behind her ear.
; “This works on my daughter when she’s upset.” Jean smiled in response, relaxing into the pillow.
The hand rubbed slow circles, comforting consoling touches, her long legs brushing against Jean’s covered ones. A low melodic voice as Jo started to hum something, singing softly. Jean closed her eyes, the voice was lower from sleeplessness, soothing like a healing balm. She could listen to it all night, but sensed she would succumb to sleep with much more of the treatment. She decided Jo could be remarkably sweet, it seemed as though she was finally starting to let her guard down. Allowing a side of herself that was often hidden away to be visible for a fleeting moment.
As her voice died down Jo ran her fingertips through Jean’s short hair. “Feel better?”
The older woman nodded, turning toward her. Leaning forward to tentatively kiss her. “Much. I’ll take a shower. Be right back.”
She returned to bed in the clean white cotton shirt and her boy leg briefs. Jo was laying on her side dozing. Grey eyes fluttered open as she got in. The bedside lights had been turned off. The room darkened, save for the lights of the city coming through the open balcony door.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” Her voice gentle and quiet.
The policewoman shook her head, her voice slow and weary. “No, was waiting for you.”
Something about that made her smile. “You didn’t have to Jo.”
She yawned. “Needed to know you were OK.” It seemed for this evening at least, their roles had reversed.
Jean made herself comfortable, reclining on the ivory coloured sheets and pulling up the bedding. Jo was looking at her through sleepy half lidded eyes.
“Night Jo. Sleep well..and thanks.”
Jo smiled, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder affectionately. The blonde began to roll over, with the movement, her hand was caught.
The silent question was in the older woman’s eyes. Not sure if she was stepping over the line. At this moment, they seemed so close, so connected.