by Radclyffe
“I’m not seeing anyone except you,” Flann said. “I did ask Carrie to go out with me a while ago, but she hasn’t taken me up on it. I intend to let her know we’d make better friends. She won’t mind.”
“You don’t have to because of me,” Abby said just a little breathlessly.
Flann lifted their hands, the peach still dripping, and took another bite. She licked some of the juice from Abby’s fingers. “Not doing it for you. For me. You’re the only woman I want to think about.”
“You’re right about the peach,” Abby said. If Flann touched her now, anywhere, she’d go up in flames.
Flann grinned and held it up for Abby to take another bite. “Told you.”
They passed the peach back and forth until it was gone and then found a portable water station and washed their hands. By the time they’d slowly made the circuit of the tents, Abby had picked up fresh fruits and vegetables and a package of steaks.
“There’s a grill on the back porch at my place,” Abby said. “Why don’t you stay for supper?”
“Yeah?”
Flann’s pleasure was so plain Abby’s heart warmed. “Yes.”
“I’d like that. Do you drink wine?”
“A red would work with the steak.”
“Excellent.” Flann slipped her arm around Abby’s waist. “We’ll pick some up on the way back.”
Abby hesitated. “You know Blake will be there…”
“I figured.” Flann’s mouth brushed her ear. “He’s your son. I know you’re a family.”
Abby stopped, turned her head, and kissed her, right there by the side of the road with pickup trucks and people passing by. “You are remarkable.”
“I’ll remind you of that the next time we’re alone.”
Abby settled into the passenger seat, the taste of peaches lingering on her lips. She reached for Flann’s hand and tried to think if she’d ever had an afternoon quite so perfect. She knew she hadn’t.
Chapter Twenty-four
Flann pulled over in front of the old schoolhouse that was Abby and Blake’s home now. Two bikes leaned against the white picket fence.
“Damn,” she muttered.
Abby’s brows furrowed “What?”
“Blake and Margie are here.”
“I thought you said you didn’t mind—”
“It’s not them.” Flann slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her toward the center of the front seat. “I was hoping for more kisses. I seem to be suffering from a lack of them.”
Abby’s eyes cleared and she smiled, a satisfied, very feline kind of smile. “Oh. I see.”
Flann pretended to be offended. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying my discomfort.”
Abby ran her fingers down the center of Flann’s T-shirt, avoiding her breasts, but the way Flann’s skin ignited, she might as well have been naked. Her hips lifted, and she growled. “Come on, Abby. That’s no fair.”
“Why not? After all, a kiss is more intimate than a little touch.”
“That’s not a little touch.” Flann grasped Abby’s wrist, turned her hand over, and kissed her palm. She flicked her tongue over the soft swelling at the base of Abby’s thumb and bit down gently. Abby gasped. Flann glanced up at her, her mouth still pressed to her palm. “And there are all kinds of kisses.”
Color flared in Abby’s face and her eyes took on that dark, sultry haze again. “I suppose we should clarify exactly what kind of kisses we’ll be sharing.”
Flann shook her head. “Too late. Kisses, no qualifiers. Anywhere we want.”
Abby’s heart beat so rapidly she could feel it in her throat. Trying to set limits with Flann was like trying to stop the sun from rising in the morning, a force of nature far too powerful for human restraints. Especially when she didn’t really want to restrain her. Heat swirled in her belly, and if she didn’t have two teenagers waiting inside, she would have forgotten all about why getting involved with Flann was a bad idea. She couldn’t look away from her mouth, couldn’t stop thinking about how her soft, warm lips would feel on her skin—possessive and demanding. When had she developed the desire to be pleasured, to take, to want? She brushed Flann’s lips with the thumb Flann had bitten. “You have a beautiful mouth. I’m going to enjoy your kisses.”
“Jeez, Abby,” Flann groaned. “Have a little mercy.”
“Mmm. I don’t think so.” Abby laughed, popped the door behind her, and jumped out. “Come on, you promised me dinner. You’re due at the grill.”
Flann wasn’t even sure she could walk. Her thighs were loose with desire while other parts of her were tight and swollen and hot. Somehow she had to get through dinner without looking like she wanted to jump on Abby, which she didn’t want to do—yet. But damn, it was hard to hold back. She’d never been obsessed with wanting a woman before. Oh sure, maybe when she was thirteen or fourteen and every girl was an object of endless, sleepless fascination, but that was more about wanting sex than wanting sex with somebody. After that insanity had passed, no woman had occupied her thoughts the way Abby did. No one fired her imagination or made her want things she’d sworn she’d never want. Not just kisses, not just being naked with her, not just making love to her until she screamed, which she wanted as much as she wanted her next breath, but more. She wanted more—she wanted the welcome in Abby’s eyes when she walked into a room, she wanted to hear Abby’s laugh when she teased her, she wanted to confess her sins and know Abby would help her to forgive herself. She wanted Abby’s light in the dark night of her world.
Abby stood on the porch looking back at her, a question in her eyes. “You can’t get out of it now.”
“Don’t want to,” Flann yelled, and she knew in her heart she meant it. She jumped out of the Jeep and jogged up the flagstone path.
“Take it easy with that leg,” Abby said.
“I’m good. Great.” Flann stood a step below her looking up. “I had a fabulous day.”
Abby held her gaze and slowly leaned down. Her kiss lingered, questing, a gentle demand.
Flann groaned. And then Abby was gone.
“How about I open that red,” Abby said with a teasing smile from the doorway.
“Sure.” Flann’s voice was sandpaper rough.
“Great. Grill’s on the porch.”
Flann followed through the neat open-concept living room-kitchen area and out the back door. Margie and Blake sat on the porch steps with lemonade and a box of cold pizza between them.
“Don’t eat too much of that,” Flann said, “I’m cooking.”
Margie craned her neck and looked up at her. “You are? Awesome.”
Blake closed the box. “Breakfast.”
Grinning, Flann said, “You two want to help me muscle this grill off the porch so I can get it started?”
Both teens jumped up. Margie and Blake grabbed one end and the three of them hoisted the grill down to the grass. Flann rocked the tank to be sure it had enough gas to get them through dinner and started up the grill. A breeze blew up from the river and cooled the sweat on the back of her neck. The sun was an hour away from dropping behind the hills on the other side of the valley. Beautiful night. Incredible day. Flann couldn’t remember being so relaxed or so bone-deep content in her life.
Abby came to the back door. “Blake, Margie. Want to give me a hand cutting vegetables?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.”
Flann watched Blake and Margie troop inside, thinking they seemed at once young and a whole lot more mature than she’d been at their age. She wondered what was going on between the two of them, but didn’t see as it was really any of her business. And whatever it was, she trusted them not to hurt each other.
A few minutes later, Abby came out with the steaks on a platter and a tray of sliced vegetables. “Salad’s done. I think we’re ready for you.”
“Good.” Flann checked the back porch and couldn’t see either of the kids inside. Abby’s hands were full. Perfect opportunity
. She slid her hand behind Abby’s neck and kissed her. Abby gave a little moue of surprise and then kissed her back, meeting Flann’s subtle demand with some of her own. Flann felt a tiny nip on her lower lip before Abby pulled away. The kiss was even more satisfying for its briefness, a teasing hint of all to come when they were alone. Flann drew back, surprised at how short her breath had gotten, how fast her pulse. “I’ll put those vegetables on now.”
Abby stared, her gaze holding Flann’s as she held out the tray. “Good idea.”
Grinning, Flann laid out the vegetables, put on the steaks, and checked her watch. Five minutes later, Abby returned with two glasses of the red and handed her one. “How are they coming?”
“Everything looks good. Do you want to eat out on the porch?”
“There’s no table.”
“Doesn’t matter. We can sit on the steps. It’s a beautiful night and the sun will set right across the river in not too long.”
“It sounds perfect,” Abby said.
And it was. The four of them spread out on the porch steps and ate with their plates balanced on their knees, Margie and Blake regaling them with tales of the chicks and Rooster.
“He knows they’re in the pen,” Margie said. “He doesn’t go very far away like he used to. He just scratches around in a big circle and every once in a while he hops over and tries to look inside.”
“He’s claimed them already,” Blake said.
“You’ll have to wait until they’re about three months old to let them out,” Flann said. “He’ll want to make sure they know they belong to him when they start free ranging.”
“Once the barn is rebuilt, we can get them in the coop, right?” Blake said.
“That’s the plan.”
“You’re coming on Saturday, aren’t you?” Margie said to Flann. “To the barn raising?”
“As long as I’m not at the hospital.” Flann turned to Abby. “You know about it, don’t you?”
“Presley mentioned it,” Abby said. “It sounds like fun. I’ll be there, but I can’t promise I’ll be much help. I think Carrie is planning on a wedding summit meeting.”
“Oh, man,” Flann moaned. “This is turning into a big show.”
Abby laughed. “Of course! But don’t worry—you can busy yourself with hammering and whatnot.”
“Thank God,” Flann muttered.
“So, Mom,” Blake said, finishing off the last of the grilled zucchini, “I’ve changed my mind about school.”
Abby set her wineglass down carefully, a jolt of fear running through her. If something had happened to make him want to change schools, he would have told her by now, wouldn’t he? “How’s that?”
Blake glanced at Margie. “I’m not going to study creative writing. I’m going to be a vet. Margie and I are going into practice together.”
Flann laughed. “That’s a great idea. Are you both going to do large animals or what?”
“Oh,” Abby said, trying to switch mental gears. Not a problem. Just teenagers being teenagers. “You’ll set up around here?”
“Oh, sure,” Margie said. “I’ll do the large animal work, mostly. Blake will specialize in small animals and domestic pets, but we’ll cross-cover.”
“Where are you planning to go to school?” Flann asked.
“We’re thinking Penn for vet school,” Blake said.
“And what about undergraduate school?” Abby said, running numbers in her head. Blake was smart and liked to study, but even a scholarship wouldn’t cover the cost of eight years of college and vet school.
“That’s to be determined.” Margie smiled at Blake. “But we’re thinking we’ll try for the same place.”
“Or at least close enough to see each other more than on holidays,” Blake qualified. “Maybe Dartmouth or Yale.”
“Okay,” Abby said brightly. God, she needed to start budgeting a little bit differently. “Sounds like there’s going to be a lot of serious studying going on the next year or two.”
“Margie says we might be able to get part-time work or an internship at the vet hospital in Saratoga.”
“You know Doc Valentine pretty well, don’t you, Flann?” Margie asked innocently.
Flann shot her a cautionary look. She and Sydney Valentine had dated for a while in college, but they’d gone their separate ways when Flann went off to medical school and Syd to vet school. Syd was still single, and they’d had one brief weekend reunion a few years back before deciding the passion of youth was not to be recaptured.
“I know her well enough to give her a call and see if there’s anything she could use you two for.”
Margie grinned. “Awesome.”
“Thanks, Flann.” Blake stood. “We’re gonna meet Terry and Phil at Clark’s. I’ll be home later.”
“Uh-huh,” Abby said. “Why don’t you two carry in those dishes, rinse them off, and then you can go. If you’re riding your bikes, you need to be back by dark.”
“We’ll walk,” Blake said. “Then we don’t have to be back—”
“Until ten,” Abby said.
Blake grinned. “Right.”
“I’ll give you a ride home, Margie,” Flann called as the two teens hustled into the house. She glanced at Abby. “That is, if you don’t mind having me around for a few more hours.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Abby said. Earlier that day, she hadn’t wanted to be alone with Flann in the empty house. She’d thought at the time she hadn’t wanted to be tempted, and worse, hadn’t wanted to give in. What a difference the day had made. Flann’s kisses were addictive, but it was more than kisses or the way Flann’s possessive gaze made Abby feel sexy and sensuous and daring. Flann was addictive, with her intensity, her unexpected tenderness, her humor, and her hidden vulnerabilities. Now the idea of a few hours alone with her was anything but worrisome. No way would Blake and Margie return early, and her bedroom had a nice breeze at night…if needed. “Let’s—”
“Let’s sit out front and finish this wine.” Flann picked up the half-empty bottle of Bordeaux and caught their glasses up by the stems in the other hand. “The sun’s about down now, but the moon will be out soon.”
“All right.” Abby led the way to the front porch. What had happened to Flann’s request for more kisses?
They sat side by side in the rockers and slowly sipped the dark, fruity wine as the moon rose beyond the town and the traffic noise faded away to be replaced by the near silence of a sleeping village. Abby’s house was at the far edge of town where Main Street drifted off into countryside, and soon even the lights from the village faded away.
“I used to think the night was empty because it was so quiet, but now I can hear the train whistle in the distance,” Abby said, “and the river lapping over the rocks, and the owls. It’s not empty, it’s alive.”
“Have you heard the coyotes?”
Abby laughed. “The first time I had goose bumps the size of thimbles all over my body. So eerie, yet so beautiful. It was after midnight, and I jumped up and rushed to the window, but I couldn’t see them.”
“Look along the river next time, they’ll be running there. You might catch a glimpse of ghost shadows in the moonlight.”
“You love it here as much as Harper, don’t you?”
Flann studied her wine. “I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”
“I think I could easily come to feel that way too,” Abby said. The clouds drifted across the moon, turning purple as the moonlight shone through, pulling at some place deep inside her, reminding her of how insignificant one life was and how precious each passing moment. “It’s pretty obvious Blake already has.”
Flann laughed. “Margie’s pretty persuasive.”
“Margie is an incredibly kind and generous and extraordinarily intelligent young woman.”
“She’s all of that.” Flann stretched and sighed. “I haven’t spent this much time just sitting outside in a long time.”
“You don’t belong in an apartment,” Abby sa
id. “You belong in a place with a porch and some land to walk around on and—”
“A picket fence, a dog, and a few kids?” Flann said slowly.
“I don’t know about the last part.” Abby’s heart beat faster. “What do you think?”
“I would’ve said no way not that long ago. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Any reason?”
Flann smiled at her in the moonlight, the bold planes of her face highlighted in silver. “I can think of one or two.”
“I thought you said you wanted to kiss me earlier,” Abby said softly.
Flann put her wineglass on the floor and leaned over, brushing a kiss gently across Abby’s mouth, a tender, wistful kiss that had every bit as much power as her demanding, possessive kisses had earlier. Abby found herself holding her breath, waiting for the spell to break, but even when Flann eased back, the wonder remained.
Voice just a little shaky, Abby said, “I don’t know about you, but I think this is a dangerous game we’re playing.”
“No, it isn’t,” Flann said. “It’s no game at all.”
“What if I said I wanted more than kisses,” Abby said, feeling reckless and not caring. She wanted kisses and more, and wondered why Flann had stopped.
“I’d say that could definitely be dangerous.” Flann smiled. “And there’s no rush.”
Abby frowned. When had she become the one who wanted more, right now? Since when did Flann want slow? “I—”
The front gate banged open and Margie and Blake ambled up the walk, talking in animated tones about something someone had said about a concert. Abby steadied her breath, tried to still the pounding of her heart.
Flann rose. “Thanks for inviting me to dinner. I enjoyed it more than I can say.”
Abby stood too, conscious of Blake and Margie on the walk a few feet away. “It was wonderful. Thank you for the day.”
“Good night,” Flann murmured.
“Good night.”
Flann was already down the steps and slung an arm around Margie’s shoulders. “Come on, we’ll get your bike in the back of the Jeep, and I’ll take you home.”