by Jae
“Okay. I’ll go,” Lauren said. “But how about a kiss to tide me over until din—”
Grace’s lips were on hers before she could even finish the sentence.
Something clattered to the floor. It might have been the wooden spoon Grace had been holding. Lauren didn’t care. She wrapped both arms around Grace and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. The fingers of her one hand came to rest against Grace’s bare upper back, and she allowed them to wander just a bit, tracing the soft skin with her fingertips.
Grace gripped Lauren’s hips with both hands, even the one in the cast, as if she needed to hold on so she wouldn’t fall. Her lips and tongue moved against Lauren’s in a slow, erotic dance. Finally, she pulled back, her hands still clutching Lauren’s blouse. “There,” she said.
Lauren had never heard her voice so husky and breathless, not even in one of her more passionate movie scenes.
“Now outside with you before I burn dinner.” Grace gave her a gentle push in the direction of the sliding glass doors.
On legs that felt slightly unsteady, Lauren stumbled out of the kitchenette and toward the stone patio. She sank onto one of the chairs and looked back through the glass doors.
Grace still stood where she’d left her, staring back and meeting Lauren’s heated gaze for a second before she turned toward the stove.
“Oh, wow.” With the strong pull between them, she wondered how she’d ever make it through dinner. Take it slow. This is your first date, remember? If it’s meant to be, you’ll have all the time in the world. She tried to make herself believe it, even though she knew how fleeting things were in Hollywood. She clung to the belief that Grace was different and wouldn’t change her mind about them.
The light breeze on the patio finally helped clear her head, and she looked around for the first time.
Grace had set the small table with a white linen tablecloth and laid out elegant glasses, starched napkins, and nice cutlery. She’d even put candles on the table; they were as red as her lips.
First her bra, now her lips. Stop thinking about anything to do with her body! She shook her head at herself.
The glass doors slid open, interrupting her thoughts. Grace carried a steaming plate to the table and set it down in front of Lauren, then went back inside to get her own.
Lauren jumped up. “Want me to get the wine? It’s nonalcoholic.”
“Sure.” Grace squeezed past her with her plate, nearly making Lauren swoon with that moment of closeness.
She marched to the fridge and took out the wine she’d brought, using the time it took to open the bottle to clear her head.
When she returned, Grace had lit the candles. Crickets chirped, providing them with nice background vocals.
Lauren poured them both a bit of wine and then lifted her glass. “Let’s drink to this evening and to my lovely hostess. Everything looks great.”
Grace grinned. “You haven’t even looked at the food yet.”
Heat crawled up Lauren’s neck. “I wasn’t talking about the food.” She glanced at her plate. Grace had arranged roasted potatoes, stuffed chicken in a sauce, and glazed carrots on each plate in an appetizing way. “But it looks wonderful too.”
“Charmer,” Grace said.
Lauren shook her head. “I know you get thousands of compliments about the way you look every day. But I really mean it. You’re beautiful, inside and out.”
For a moment, Grace looked as if she might be about to cry, then she smiled. “Thank you. It’s the first time in a decade that I believe those words. With anyone else, there’s usually a hidden agenda, but with you…”
“No hidden agendas. Not all publicists are spin doctors, you know?”
“I thought we wanted to try to be just Lauren and Grace tonight, not a publicist and an actress?”
“Right.” Lauren clinked her glass to Grace’s. “I’ll drink to that too.”
Their gazes met over the rims of their glasses.
Lauren tried not to notice a drop of wine wetting Grace’s lips and chose to focus on her food instead. “Wow, this is delicious,” she said after the first bite. “Who taught you to cook? Don’t tell me it was your mother?”
“No. My mother can pick a five-star restaurant with the best of them, but I can’t remember her cooking anything, even when my father was still alive. I learned bits and pieces from our housekeepers and, would you believe it, from cooking shows.”
Lauren laughed. “Well, never let it be said that television isn’t good for your education.” She realized they were coming too close to professional territory, so she steered the topic in another direction.
They talked about favorite foods, cities they’d visited, and even touched on past relationships. By the time they had finished dinner and settled back with a glass of wine, the sun was setting over the canyon.
“Remember how we watched the sunset together the first time I brought you up here?” Grace asked.
Lauren nodded. She remembered every moment, every word they’d spoken, the way an actress would remember the lines in a script.
“I was amazed that having you here, in my refuge, didn’t seem like an intrusion.” Grace looked down and trailed one fingertip along the rim of her wineglass. “I normally don’t like having people in my home, but with you, it felt… It just felt right.”
“And now?” Lauren asked quietly.
“It still feels right. I like having you here, but I admit now that we’re…dating, it also makes me a little nervous.” Grace looked past Lauren, down into the canyon.
Lauren put her glass down and reached for Grace’s hand. She squeezed softly until Grace looked at her. “There’s no reason to be nervous. Nothing will happen that you don’t want.”
“That’s not what’s making me nervous. Well, not just that,” Grace added with a wry smile.
“What is it, then?”
Grace hesitated. The breeze blew a few strands of golden hair onto her forehead, covering her magnetic eyes for a moment.
Lauren wanted to reach out and smooth back the errant locks, but she resisted the urge, sensing that she shouldn’t interrupt Grace now.
“I’ve been a public figure pretty much since I was a baby. After a while in the business, you learn to recognize what people want and present that side of your personality. Don’t get me wrong,” Grace said with a slight shake of her head. “I’m not saying that I’m lying or acting all the time. I just never showed my real self—all of it, with nothing held back—to anyone. But I want to do it with you. And it’s scary as hell.”
Lauren’s breath caught in her chest. “Yes, it is.” She entwined their fingers until, in the fading light, she could no longer tell which were hers and which were Grace’s. “But you’re not the only one who’s scared, and I promise not to violate your trust. I want to see you. All of you.” She cracked a smile, trying to break the tension. “And that’s not an attempt to get you out of that sexy top.”
Grace smiled, a bit of her normal confidence shining through. She trailed her thumb along Lauren’s index finger, sending a tingle down the rest of her body. “Dessert?”
Lauren understood. Grace needed a moment to get herself back together after revealing so much of herself. “As long as it’s not some size-zero-approved watery sorbet.”
“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
Lauren’s gaze followed her as Grace got up and went inside. The glass doors had barely closed between them when Lauren’s cell phone began to ring. Suppressing a curse, she fumbled it out of her pocket. She hadn’t even realized she’d left it on. Apparently, old habits really did die hard.
She stared at the display. It was one of her top clients.
Her gaze went toward the cottage. Grace was still busy in the kitchen, getting something out of the f
ridge. If she was quick, Grace would never even need to know she had taken a work-related call.
Her finger hovered over the green button that would accept the call. No. This is Grace. New leaf for her. New leaf for you. She stabbed the reject button with more force than strictly necessary, then turned the phone off before putting it away. For one moment, she felt strangely naked with all her connections to the outside world and her clients cut, but then she straightened and grinned. To hell with the outside world. Everything that counted was here, in this small cottage.
She jumped up to open the glass door for Grace, who stepped through carrying two bowls of white chocolate mousse with a strawberry sauce. “Everything okay? I thought I heard your phone ring.”
“Not important,” Lauren said.
In a reversal of her first stay at the cottage, this time Lauren slept up in the loft while Grace bedded down on the couch.
“Come on,” Lauren said when Grace stepped out of the bathroom. “I’ll tuck you in.”
Chuckling, Grace slipped beneath the blanket.
Lauren perched on the edge of the couch and studied her. With her cheeks flushed either from Lauren’s closeness or from washing her face, Grace looked as attractive as she’d ever seen her. There were so many things Lauren wanted to tell her—her fears and hopes for the future, but finally she just said, “Good night.”
“Good night,” Grace whispered back.
They kept staring at each other.
Slowly, Lauren leaned down, tucked one strand of hair behind Grace’s ear, and then kissed her. She’d meant to make it a sweet, tender kiss good night, but when Grace returned the kiss, it quickly became more passionate.
Grace moaned beneath her and threaded her fingers through Lauren’s hair, holding her against her.
Lauren wanted to press closer and stretch out on top of her but held herself back. Slow. Don’t spoil this. Gasping, she pulled back.
Grace slumped back against the couch and blinked up at her. She looked dazed, as if part of her hadn’t yet processed what was happening—and that was why Lauren needed to rein herself in. Grace needed time.
“Good night,” Lauren said again. On legs that felt like a wobbly mass of Jell-O, she climbed the ladder to the loft and crawled into Grace’s bed.
She chuckled to herself. I’m in Grace’s bed. It wasn’t quite what she had imagined, but it was nice nonetheless. Even though Grace hadn’t slept up here in several weeks, her scent still seemed to cling to the pillowcase. Maybe it was just Lauren’s imagination. She snuggled against the pillow while she listened to the soft sounds Grace made downstairs as she tried to find a comfortable position.
The lights went out in the living room.
“Good night, Lauren,” Grace’s voice trailed up to the loft.
“Sweet dreams.”
Sheets rustled downstairs; then everything went quiet.
Lauren lay with her eyes open, still too charged up after her evening with Grace—and from that last kiss—to just go to sleep. She peeked up at the window and counted the stars shining down on her. After a while, her eyes finally closed.
Just when that heavy, peaceful feeling of falling asleep settled over her, Grace’s soft voice came from downstairs. “Lauren?”
“Yes?”
They were both whispering.
“Do you remember what you said when I told you that Nick and I are getting a divorce?”
Lauren shook off the traces of sleep and searched her memory. “I said a lot of things during that meeting. That you can’t be caught lying to the press?”
“No. You told me that if there was ever someone new in my life, you needed to know before I even told my mother or my best friend.” Grace paused. “I think you should consider yourself notified.”
The meaning of Grace’s whispered words hit Lauren, leaving her staring up at the stars with her mouth open for several moments. Then she scrambled out of bed and to the edge of the loft, where she peered down into the nearly dark living room.
The only light in the cottage came from a night-light next to the bathroom, but Lauren could still make out Grace’s form on the couch. She thought Grace might be smiling up at her, so she smiled back.
“Careful up there,” Grace said. “I don’t want you to fall.”
Too late. She’d already fallen—hard. Shaken by that realization, Lauren crawled back into bed.
When Grace woke, the sun had already risen. Light was streaming into the cottage through the glass doors. She lay still, snuggling more deeply under the blanket, and listened.
Everything was quiet up in the loft. Even though Lauren was still asleep, the cottage felt different with her here. Or maybe Grace was the one who felt different.
A very short time ago, Lauren had been nothing more than her publicist and friend, and the rumors about Grace’s being gay had been just that—rumors. Now everything had changed. Grace got up, tiptoed into the bathroom, and stared at the mirror above the sink while she brushed her teeth, almost amazed when her reflection looked the same as it always did.
Was this who she had been all along—the woman who had eaten white chocolate mousse without wasting even one thought on how many calories it had and who had passionately kissed Lauren last night—and she just hadn’t known?
Realizing the mirror wasn’t likely to answer her question, she put her toothbrush back into its cup and went to the kitchen to make breakfast.
She felt more than heard Lauren climb down from the loft, make a quick trip to the bathroom, and then step up behind her. Every cell in her body was aware of Lauren’s proximity.
“Good morning,” Lauren said.
Grace turned down the heat and leaned against the counter, smiling at the sight of Lauren, who stood in front of her, still in her pajamas, rubbing her eyes like a sleepy child. “Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you?”
Lauren shook her head. “The scent of grilling bacon woke me. Sleep well?”
“Yes. How about you?”
Shuffling her feet, Lauren nodded. “Like a baby.”
“Do you have time to stay for breakfast?” Grace asked, knowing Lauren usually reserved weekends for writing and catching up on e-mail. “I’m making bacon and pancakes.”
“I’ll make time. I can’t stay too long, though. One of my top clients called last night, and I ignored him, so now I have to deal with it.”
Lauren had ignored a call from a client? Wow.
They chatted about the weather up in the canyon while Grace poured pancake batter into the pan.
Why are we making small talk? Grace wondered. What she really wanted wasn’t polite conversation. She wanted Lauren to take her into her arms and kiss her again.
But when Lauren finally bent to kiss her, it was just an almost shy brush of her lips, as if she didn’t know if Grace would be comfortable with anything more.
Hell! If growing up in Hollywood had taught Grace one thing, it was that life didn’t hand you anything; you had to reach for what you wanted. So she did.
Ignoring her cast, she grabbed two handfuls of Lauren’s pajama top and pulled her down. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of Lauren’s widened pupils, then both of their eyes fluttered shut as their mouths met.
Grace’s body molded into Lauren’s. She explored softly, nibbling on Lauren’s bottom lip, kissing her upper lip, stroking Lauren’s tongue with her own. Her hands lost their grip on the pajama top and instead slid around to flutter over Lauren’s back and down. God, she loved how the curve of Lauren’s hips felt beneath her hands.
A part of her—the part that could still think—was surprised at the intensity of her own reaction, but for once, she shut down that analytical part and allowed herself to just feel.
Lauren’s warmth, the touch, the taste, and the scent of her filled he
r senses.
Then something else intruded. Dimly, she became aware of a much less pleasant smell.
Damn, the pancakes! She whirled around and pulled the pan from the stove.
Too late. When she flipped the pancake, its bottom was coal-black. “Sorry.” She sent Lauren a sheepish glance. “Looks like I ruined breakfast or at least part of it.”
Lauren shook her head and caressed Grace’s cheek with the back of her hand. “No,” she said, sounding a bit hoarse. “Trust me. You didn’t ruin anything. Quite the opposite. From now on, this is my favorite kind of breakfast and these,” she gestured at their sleepwear, “are my favorite date outfits.”
They grinned at each other.
Grace marveled at how easy it felt to be with Lauren—at least as long as they were alone. As soon as they headed out into the real world, things would be different, though. She pushed the thought away. For now, all she wanted was to enjoy the time she had with Lauren. She’d deal with everything else later.
CHAPTER 31
“How does it feel?” Lauren asked.
A long moan escaped Grace. “Heavenly.”
Only silence answered on the other end of the line.
Grace tapped her phone that was connected to the SUV’s speakers. “Lauren? Are you still there?”
“Um, still here. You were saying…?”
“How wonderful it feels to finally get rid of the cast. You wouldn’t believe how weak my arm is, though. I’ll start physical therapy next week, and now I’m on my way to my mother’s to take advantage of her pool while she’s gone. The doctor said swimming would be good to strengthen the muscles.”
More silence from Lauren.
Is she imagining me lounging by the pool in my swimsuit? Grace grinned. Most of the time, she preferred to pretend that no one ever fantasized about her, but the thought of Lauren thinking about her… She fanned herself with her still-weak left hand.