by Radclyffe
“No, not me. I’ve never cared for rules.”
“You look like you haven’t caught up on your sleep yet,” Abby said. “You should go home, get some rest.” Abby wanted her to stay, but that was absurd. The woman was probably almost out on her feet, even if she was too macho to admit it.
“I was thinking,” Flann said, although she hadn’t been until just a minute ago. She had a day free and Abby was standing right in front of her and she didn’t want to say good-bye. What she wanted was another kiss, and she wasn’t going to think too hard about why. “There’s a farmers’ market in Saratoga. Maybe you’d like to go, walk around, see what it’s like.”
“If you’ve been up all night—”
Flann took her hand. “I’m fine. Besides, the fresh air will do me a lot more good than rolling around in a hot apartment trying to sleep during the day.”
“No air-conditioning?” Abby said lightly, though all of her attention was focused on Flann’s fingers wrapped around her hand. Flann was probably used to casual contact with women, but she wasn’t. Why couldn’t she seem to do casual around Flann?
“Don’t have any,” Flann said, her eyes drifting from Abby’s face down her body. “I figure I’m never really home much, so why bother. Usually I can sack out in the hospital if I want to.”
“But today you decided to bring Blake a bicycle. That was really kind of you.”
“Nothing kind about it. I like him, and besides, I need him to be able to get around for work.”
Abby laughed and she couldn’t think of a reason to say no. She didn’t even want to think, she just wanted to enjoy a day in the sun with a woman who looked at her like she was delectable. Oh God, her clothes. “I’d love to go to the farmers’ market with you. Give me a minute to change.”
“Why? You look terrific.”
“Sure, if we’re going to a pajama party.” Abby extracted her hand and backed toward the door. Flann followed. “There’s lemonade in the refrigerator. The kitchen’s in the back.”
Flann was very close and her eyes had turned dark and hungry, the way they had right before she’d kissed her. The house was empty and Blake wouldn’t be back for hours. Abby took a breath. “I’ll be right down.”
“All right.” Flann slowly leaned forward, giving Abby time to turn away. She didn’t. Flann kissed her softly, a brush of her lips over Abby’s, repeating the easy caress until Abby’s hand came to her neck again, tugging her a little closer. Flann teased her tongue over Abby’s lips until her control wavered and she was in danger of sliding her hands under Abby’s T-shirt. With another woman, she already would have. She pulled back, her vision a little blurry, the rush of blood in her ears a drumbeat of desire more potent than anything she’d ever known. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting.”
Abby’s lips parted, her pupils wide and black and a wee bit hazy. Her hand dropped from Flann’s neck. “Good.”
Flann leaned against the door and watched her disappear. Today Abby didn’t look as if she wanted to run. She looked as if she wanted to be kissed again. Flann liked that idea herself, although the usual self-satisfaction when a woman signaled she was ready for the game to begin was missing. Maybe because she wasn’t playing a game, or if she was, it was the most important one she’d ever played. Instead of feeling triumphant, she was…nervous. Hell.
She waited on the front porch in one of a pair of wicker chairs set on either side of a small round table, her feet propped on the rail, her body pleasantly simmering, the scent of Abby—some intoxicating blend of honey and sunlight—still clinging to her skin, and watched the world go by. She rarely sat, rarely even slowed down. She liked action. Harper was the one who went in for quiet contemplation. But right this moment, she was as content as she could ever remember being. The sensation was novel, and she was anything but bored. Every cell simmered with excitement.
Women like to be courted.
She didn’t have any experience with that, but she’d never run from a challenge. If that’s what it took to put that drowsy, hot look back in Abby’s eyes again, she’d give it her best.
“You look pretty comfortable there,” Abby said from the doorway.
“I am.” Flann glanced over her shoulder and her mouth went dry.
The pale yellow sundress scooped just low enough to make it abundantly clear Abby had absolutely perfect breasts. Her hair was a golden tangle on her smooth shoulders, her bare arms sleek and bronzed. The flowing skirt hinted at slender thighs, and strappy sandals called attention to her equally elegant calves. Incongruously, each toe was tipped in pale coral.
“You paint your toenails,” Flann said like an idiot.
Abby laughed. “I do. Frivolous, isn’t it?”
“Sexy.”
Abby blushed. “I’ll take note of that.”
“You look fabulous.” Flann rose, chagrined. At least her jeans and white T-shirt were clean, but Abby was beautiful. Elegant, breathtaking. “I’m not fit to be seen with you. I should change.”
“Don’t be silly. I love the way you look in jeans and a T-shirt.”
“You deserve better.” Flann knew it was true, and she wasn’t thinking about clothes.
Abby slipped her arm through Flann’s. She had a day off, she’d just been kissed by the sexiest woman she’d ever met, and she was feeling sexier than she ever had in her life. For the next few hours, she didn’t want to think of anything else. “As a matter of fact, I like you exactly the way you are.”
Coming from anyone else, Flann would have discounted the statement as flirtatious, just one more move in the game. When Abby said it, she hoped it was true. More than she’d ever imagined.
Chapter Twenty-three
“I’m going to take you at your word about my clothes,” Flann said as she started driving north away from town. “But next time we go somewhere, I promise I won’t be wearing a T-shirt.”
Laughing, Abby rolled down her window and let the brisk morning air blow through her hair. She didn’t even care if it tangled, the breeze felt so good. The countryside stretched out on either side of the mostly empty road, rolling hills in more shades of green than she’d ever imagined. Flann swept around a bend and the river appeared, shimmering in the sun.
“God, it’s beautiful up here,” Abby said.
“You know what else?” Flann said. “You never get used to it.”
“I believe it.”
“Do you miss the city?”
“No.” Abby turned in the seat to watch Flann drive. She drove as she did everything else, a little bit fast, competently, easily. Her window was open too, and the air rushing in pressed her T-shirt tightly to her chest. Her arms and shoulders were muscular, but sculpted rather than bulky, her breasts small and neat. Abby had an urge to slide her hand underneath the hem of her T-shirt and explore Flann’s abdomen, suspecting it was flat and firm. As if reading her thoughts, Flann glanced over and her mouth quirked up at the corner. Abby almost expected her to ask if she saw something she liked, because she was certain her expression gave her away. Mercifully, Flann didn’t comment.
“So you don’t even miss the restaurants?” Flann said.
Abby grinned. “Okay, maybe the ready access to something besides pizza. Although the pizza at Clark’s is damn good.”
“We’ve got some good locally sourced restaurants a half-hour drive from town. Next time—”
“You seem pretty certain there’ll be a next time.”
“I hope there will be.”
“Flann,” Abby said, needing to be clear for her own sake as much as Flann’s, “I’m not thinking about this as a date. We work together, my son and your sister are getting to be best friends, and one of my best friends is marrying your sister. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Like I said, I hope so.”
Abby had forgotten how exasperating Flann could be when she’d made up her mind about something. Maybe those kisses had some amnesiac side effect, because they’d certainly affected her
memory and her sanity. Grumpily, she said, “You’re being purposely obtuse.”
Flann grinned. “That sounds kinda sexy.”
Abby considered punching her in her beautifully muscled arm, just to touch her. She was such an infuriatingly gorgeous animal. “Now you’re purposefully being difficult.”
Flann looked from the road to Abby again, and she wasn’t grinning. She was smoky eyed and oh-so-tantalizing. “I’m not trying to be. I do think we’re friends, but I don’t usually kiss my friends, not the way I kissed you.”
“I suppose I should say I’m sorry I let that second kiss happen, but—”
“Let it happen?” Flann snorted. “You mean it was all me?”
“No, you’re right,” Abby said, forcing herself to say the truth. “I didn’t let it happen—I wanted it to happen, and that kiss was every bit as much my doing as yours.”
“I want to kiss you again.”
Abby sighed. “Why can’t we just keep things simple.”
“Why can’t we just let what is, be? See what happens.”
“I can’t,” Abby said. “I don’t work that way. I’m not—casual. Spontaneous. I’ve never had the luxury of just doing what I wanted.”
“So try it now,” Flann said.
“Part of me wants to, that’s why I’m sitting here in this Jeep with you right now. But I know myself, Flann. Really, I do. And I’m not the right kind of woman for you.”
Flann’s brow twitched. “You mean the kind that kisses me until my brains feel like they’re gonna leak out of my ears? Because I have to tell you, I liked it.”
Abby flushed. She liked knowing she could make Flann’s brain melt. She liked knowing she wasn’t the only one set ablaze by their kisses. The power was exciting, heady, a little addictive. “I like kissing you. But I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“All right,” Flann said easily, watching the road.
Surprised, Abby said nothing. And she ignored the surge of disappointment.
“So how do you feel about venison, because one of these places makes the most amazing grilled venison with fresh squa—”
Abby stared. “Did we not just have a long conversation about how we’re not—”
“I got it, every word.”
Flann slouched slightly behind the wheel, controlling the car with the fingers of one hand loosely curled around the wheel, her other hand resting on her thigh. With her tawny hair and sun-kissed skin, she resembled a big cat, deceptively somnolent when Abby knew for a fact she was dangerous. Flann had the power to strip away every last shred of her good sense.
“Somehow I don’t think so.”
“We’re not going to date and”—Flann sent her a mildly infuriating grin, making her look even more attractive—“you’re not going to sleep with me. Right?”
“More or less, yes.”
Flann nodded. “Thought so.”
“Just so we’re clear.”
“Crystal.”
Flann’s sudden acceptance left Abby deflated when she should have been exultant. Determined to enjoy the day, Abby concentrated on the river running alongside the road, marveling at how wide it still was so far north of the inlet in New York City, admiring the fields and farms dotting its shores, all the while refusing to think about the danger signals blaring in her head. Flann was so appealingly stubborn, pretending she didn’t understand or care what Abby was saying. Refusing to be refused.
“Hey, Abby?”
“Hmm?”
“What if we agreed, just kisses.”
Abby laughed, she couldn’t help it. Flann was so outrageously attractive. If the kiss happened again, she knew she’d enjoy it. How could she not?
“If…and I mean if,” Abby said, trying to sound stern but knowing she was failing by the little smile curling Flann’s gorgeous mouth, “that does not mean I’ll be tearing off my clothes and jumping into the nearest bed.”
“Absolutely clear.”
Fine. She could control herself, after all. And if Flann wanted to torment them both with kisses, why not? In fact, she could do a little tormenting of her own. Feeling slightly wild and not caring, she reached for Flann’s free hand and pulled it into her lap. Flann tensed for the barest second and then relaxed, letting Abby intertwine their fingers. They rode along in silence, Abby slowly stroking her thumb over the top of Flann’s hand. The contact was as erotic as if they lay naked together.
Abby needed all her willpower not to let that image fill her mind.
*
The farmers’ market was a ring of tents set up in a big pasture along the river on the outskirts of Saratoga, an historic village known for its racetrack, medicinal spas, and fine restaurants. Flann pulled behind a line of cars parked on the shoulder of the road, and they walked up the highway toward the fluttering canvases and the rumble of voices. Flann took her hand as they walked and caught Abby off guard by how much she enjoyed the simple proprietary gesture. The last time she’d been on a date with someone who was so easily physical and effortlessly possessive had been…never. She never would have thought she’d enjoy being so publicly involved with anyone, but she liked being seen with Flann, being her…date. Well, really. She was the one wearing blinders, and that was just plain embarrassing.
“Thanks for bringing me here. It’s a fabulous day.”
“And it’s just beginning.”
Her seductive croon sent a warm wave rushing through Abby’s core. Searching for a safe topic, Abby blurted, “Do you cook?”
Flann grinned, not looking at her. Her face in profile was sculpted and bold. “I grill.”
“Does your apartment have a yard?”
“My apartment doesn’t have anything except three serviceable rooms, a little bit of furniture, and a television set.”
Flann stopped at a card table set up under a multicolored umbrella and bought two paper cups filled with real lemonade from a smiling preteen with braces and beautiful sea-green eyes.
“Harper lives in a house on the farm, doesn’t she?”
“That’s right,” Flann said nonchalantly.
“The place Carrie is moving into?”
“Yep.”
“You didn’t want to live there?”
Flann stopped again, bought two homemade chocolate chip cookies, and handed her one. “Nope.”
“I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.”
Flann stopped and met her gaze. “No, you’re not. I’m being a jerk.”
“No, you’re—”
“Harper is the oldest, but that’s not why she’s my father’s successor. She’s always been the brightest and the best. I always wanted to be her, but I never quite made it. I don’t want to step into her shoes now.”
“I don’t blame you.” Abby frowned. “But you do realize you’re an accomplished surgeon and a genuinely good person, don’t you?”
Flann blushed. “Thanks.”
“And I would add extremely attractive, but I doubt that matters to your parents.”
Flann grinned. “Matters to me if you think so.”
“Oh, I think so,” Abby murmured.
“We should go somewhere so I can kiss you.”
“Absolutely not. I want to see the rest of this place,” Abby said, glad to see the light spark in Flann’s eyes again. She started walking and Flann grabbed her hand, falling into step with her. “So if you don’t grill at your place, where do you grill?”
“I’m the official chef at all the summer softball league barbecues—usually at least once a month. I help out at the pig roast, and every now and then my father lets me assist at family get-togethers.”
At the mention of softball, Abby thought about Carrie again. “There’s another game this week, isn’t there?”
“A couple. Usually Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday.”
“You can’t play with your leg.”
“Thought I’d try it on Sunday, but there’s a game Friday. Are you going to come?”
“I don’t play.”
“H
ow about cheering? I could use a bigger fan section.”
Abby laughed as they crossed the grass and began walking along the rows of tables. Signs announced local farms and other businesses. Tables were heaped with fresh fruit, vegetables, breads, cheeses, and even meats in coolers.
“I can’t believe you’re lacking in fans.”
Flann shook her head. “Harper and Carrie are the stars of our team.”
“How is that?”
“Carrie is a phenomenal pitcher—pitched in college. Harper is a home-run star.”
“And you? What’s your claim to fame? And don’t tell me you don’t have one.” Abby purchased a cardboard box of raspberries and almost groaned at the sweet burst of flavor. She held one out to Flann, who dipped her head and caught it between her lips. Abby’s fingers tingled. “Could you try to behave for five minutes?”
Flann grinned. “I almost always get on base, and I hold the record for bases stolen.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Abby shook her head. Stolen bases, stolen hearts.
“I’m fast and I’m wily.”
“And you’re interested in seeing the star pitcher.” As soon as Abby said it, she regretted it. It was none of her business who Flann was dating. “And that is totally none of my business. Sorry.”
Flann slowed in front of the table, picked up a peach, and handed the buxom blonde behind the table two dollars. She took a bite, and then held the golden fruit, juices dripping onto her fingers, out to Abby. “Try this. I guarantee you’ve never tasted anything like it.”
Abby was about to refuse and then, on a whim, covered Flann’s hand with hers, drew the peach closer, and slowly took a bite, sucking the sweet, meaty flesh into her mouth. Juice ran down her chin. She couldn’t believe she was making such a mess of herself in public. As she chewed and swallowed, she watched Flann watch her. Then Flann’s thumb was on her mouth, slowly wiping away the juice. Abby’s breath caught as Flann brought her thumb to her mouth, her tongue flicked out, and she licked it with a slow swirl of her tongue. Abby’s thighs weakened and her stomach fluttered.