Magic in Our Hearts

by Jeanne Mccann

  Brett lay quietly for almost twenty minutes before standing up and drying off.

  The water in the tub had grown cool. She didn’t know if Taylor was still downstairs. She hadn’t come back into the bathroom. Brett slipped her tee shirt back on and tossed her wet panties into the clothes hamper. Toweling her hair, she entered her bedroom and found Taylor sitting on the side of her bed. She’d put on a silk dressing gown, and her eyes followed Brett as she came out of the bathroom and turned the lights off. Taylor had lit the reading lamp next to the bed, and it filled the room with a soft glow that made her look even more appealing.

  Brett’s body raged with renewed attraction as she moved closer to the bed.

  Taylor stood up as Brett approached and stepped away from the bed. “How’s the cramping?”

  “Gone for now, thanks. The hot bath helped a lot.” Brett needed to tell Taylor it was okay to be repulsed by her injuries. She found it hard to look at her own body. She understood Taylor’s feelings, or at least she accepted them.

  “I’ll leave you, then, to get some sleep.”

  “Taylor …”

  As she turned to leave, she felt Brett’s hand lightly touch her shoulder. The gesture was Taylor’s undoing. She whirled around and threw her arms around Brett’s neck, burying her face against Brett’s skin. “I hate it when you hurt.” The furnace that erupted when Taylor’s body collided with hers stunned Brett. She was completely overwhelmed and unable to do anything except to wrap her arms around Taylor’s slender back and hold her tightly. She would be content to stand there for hours if it meant she got to keep on holding Taylor.

  Brett breathed in the scent she knew by heart as she buried her nose in Taylor’s hair. She had missed Taylor so much for so many years. Memories flooded through her mind as her body recognized the one woman Brett had loved completely.

  Taylor’s lips moved of their own volition tasting the skin along Brett’s neck and jaw—soft, fragrant skin that she had memorized long ago—drawing her closer and closer to Brett’s wonderful lips, lips that had once kissed her into complete submission. The single thing she had loved most about Brett was that she had kissed Taylor like she was the only person in the world that mattered. Brett sucked in her breath as Taylor’s mouth covered hers in a kiss that tore through her senses. Both women groaned as their mouths met and memory took over.

  Lips and tongues mated, and they tasted each other, intent on making up for lost time. Long, deep kisses, lips full and wet, Brett’s tongue entered Taylor’s mouth drawing a moan from her. Taylor felt Brett’s naked thigh push between her legs and slide long and hard against Taylor’s wet center. Her hips jerked at the pres-sure. The robe slid open, and it was Brett’s wetness on her thigh that made Taylor move her hand down under the tee shirt and across Brett’s backside, pulling her hips tight against Taylor’s thigh. She wanted to give Brett pleasure, the feel of her almost too much to bear.

  “Oh God!” Brett stumbled away from Taylor, her eyes closed as she realized how close they were to making love. “I’m sorry.” Taylor wasn’t sure what to expect from Brett, but an apology wasn’t it. She was hurt and she blindly turned toward the bedroom door, trying to flee to her room.

  “Taylor, wait, please?” If Brett’s voice hadn’t trembled when she spoke, she wouldn’t have turned around.

  “What?” Taylor’s eyes were full of pain, and Brett knew it was her fault. She hadn’t meant to hurt Taylor and she needed to make her understand.

  Brett stepped closer to Taylor and reached up, placing her hand softly against Taylor’s face. “I want you so much and I don’t know why you would want me.” Taylor jerked in surprise as she heard the self-deprecation in Brett’s voice. She stepped close to Brett, wanting so badly to touch her, but she didn’t. “I love you, Brett. I’ve always loved you.”

  Brett’s eyes filled with tears as she absorbed the words. “You love me?”

  “Very much.”

  “But I’m a mess. I have a deformed body and no job, and I’m an alcoholic.” Taylor’s eyes signaled anger and she stepped away from Brett, furious with her. “You’re not deformed, and yes, you are an alcoholic. But you’re recovering.

  If you don’t have faith in yourself, how can you expect anyone else to have any?” Taylor started to leave Brett’s room, but Brett stopped her again with a quietly spoken comment. “I have faith in you.”

  “Oh, Brett, I have faith in you, too.”

  “Don’t give up on me, please?” Brett reached for Taylor’s hand.

  “I won’t, honey.” Taylor smiled. “Go back to bed and get some sleep.”

  “You won’t leave?” Brett couldn’t keep the panic from entering her voice.

  “No honey, I’m not leaving,” Taylor promised. Leaving was the farthest thing from Taylor’s mind.

  “Good.”

  “Goodnight,” Taylor called softly. She left the room and climbed the stairs to her own bedroom, her mind in a jumble after hearing that Brett was still in love with her.

  Brett crawled under the covers and laid quietly, her fingers gliding across her lips. She couldn’t believe that Taylor loved her. Her body still vibrated with attraction for Taylor.

  From an early age Brett had known she loved women, in particular women’s bodies. By the time she graduated from college with a degree in Business Admin-istration, she knew making love to women was something she enjoyed very much. She was fascinated by breasts and thoroughly enjoyed kissing a woman’s body from head to toe. There was nothing like the taste and scent of a woman when she covered her clitoris with her mouth and drove her to an orgasm. Brett prided herself on her lovemaking. She never left a woman’s bed without giving her complete pleasure. Rarely did she allow another woman to touch her, however. Somehow, not loving someone made it impossible to want another woman touching her that intimately. That’s how she had known she was madly in love with Taylor. She craved her touch almost as much as she wanted to make love to Taylor, and the hunger never went away.

  She had tried to bury that hunger by playing harder and drinking more after Taylor had broken up with her. It hadn’t worked, and she had grown increasingly dissatisfied with casual sex of any kind. It had been over a year before her accident that she had touched another woman. And that had been part of the problem.

  Juliet Hart had pursued Brett for months, wanting to tame the wild, untouch-able skier. Brett lived her life wildly, yet remained aloof, detached, and some women found this very appealing. Juliet was one of those women. And Brett was not immune to Juliet’s considerable charms. Juliet had been a model for several years before becoming a representative of a large public relations firm in Los Angeles. Brett met her when Juliet’s firm was representing the U.S. Ski Team and planning all of their events. Juliet was petite, feminine, and a stunning blond woman who was not shy about making her feelings known. Juliet wore the most fashionable clothes, she ate at the most famous restaurants, and she drove a fire engine red Jaguar convertible. There wasn’t a gay woman in Los Angeles that wouldn’t find her sexy and very appealing. She was financially set due to her high salary and astute investing, and nothing was off limits to Juliet. She pursued many women, sometimes more than one at the same time, and she usually got what she wanted. She had wanted Brett and had gone after her with a vengeance.

  Brett had played with her, attending all-night parties and drinking oceans of champagne, but after almost two months of being pursued and hours of kissing, Brett had never touched her, and that was driving Juliet crazy. No one had put Juliet off that long. Brett would be a formidable catch, and that made her even more appealing.

  After weeks of waiting, Juliet was determined to make something happen. She was the one who suggested that they go to Brett’s home in Boulder. Brett rarely took women to her home. It had been off limits because of Brett’s plan to share it with the one woman she would be with for the rest of her life. Brett no longer believed that would happen so she agreed to Juliet’s request. Juliet had planned it all—a week o
f playing, during which she planned to seduce Brett. No one held Juliet off for long. And the wild and charismatic skier was like a drug to Juliet.

  She wanted her very much in a very physical way. Love had nothing to do with it.

  Brett was charming, funny, drop-dead gorgeous, and had an incredible body.

  Along with her fame, she was undeniably appealing, and refusing her made Juliet even more committed to seducing her.

  The second night at the house in Boulder Juliet zeroed in on Brett, plying her with several glasses of Scotch after a romantic dinner for two, provided by Helen.

  They were lounging on the living room couch, Juliet draped over Brett, when she decided to end the drought. Reaching between their bodies, Juliet slid down the zipper on Brett’s silk dress pants and placed her hand between Brett’s thighs, cup-ping her wet center.

  “Whoa, Juliet,” Brett had mumbled, pulling her hand away.

  “Brett, baby, let me make you come. You know you want me,” Juliet had purred, her fingers reaching once more for Brett’s wet center.

  “Juliet, don’t.” Brett’s words were slurred as she pushed Juliet off.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Juliet shrieked, standing next to Brett, angry as hell.

  “Nothing is wrong with me. I just don’t want to fuck!” Brett snarled, getting unsteadily to her feet.

  “You are a fraud! You haven’t touched me in two months! The great lover! Ha, you probably can’t ski either!” Juliet was livid. No one rejected her more than once.

  “Just because I don’t want to fuck you doesn’t mean I can’t ski!” Brett lashed back. “Maybe I don’t want to fuck someone who’s been with half of Los Angeles.”

  Juliet jerked back as if she’d been slapped when she heard Brett’s comment.

  It was no secret she slept around, but so had Brett. She was furious that Brett was judging her behavior. Brett was no better and she had no right. “Prove it!”

  “Prove what?” Brett glared at the woman.

  “That you can ski!”

  The angry dare was more than Brett could take in her drunken state. The one thing that Brett could do better than anything was ski. They piled Brett’s equipment into the car and Juliet drove them to the pass. It may have been after ten at night, but the chair lift was still running. Even though Brett had been drinking, Juliet egged her on. Finally, they both stood at the top of the downhill run. Brett had looked out over the sparkling snow and felt her body calm down. Here was where she felt most at home—on the mountain skiing. She was most completely alive when she sailed down the snow-covered slopes.

  “Watch this.” Those were the only words Brett said as she took off and headed down the steep slope. She executed the first half of the run flawlessly. Her natural, God-given talent and dedication to hard work were obvious as she sailed down the mountain. The raw beauty of Brett’s skiing stunned Juliet as she watched Brett gliding through turn after turn. But fate was not kind that night, and too much alcohol made Brett careless. She overcorrected on a sharp turn.

  The minute she did, she knew she was in trouble. She crossed the ski slope out of control and slammed into a tree at full speed. She was knocked cold before she could feel the intense pain caused by her body being brutally crushed against the unforgiving trunk and low branches of the century-old Douglas fir. Thankfully she remained unconscious as she lay in a crumpled heap at the base of the tree.

  Juliet screamed as she witnessed the accident from above. By the time the ski patrol had gotten to Brett, Juliet was completely hysterical, her words coming out in a jumble as she tried to explain what happened.

  “It’s my fault, God, it’s my fault,” she cried over and over as she watched them load the critically injured woman into the ambulance. At the hospital, she told the police what had happened and waited while the emergency room staff worked frantically to keep Brett alive. She stayed until Mrs. Camden arrived, and then she had left. Her guilt over the accident and her fear for Brett made her run away.

  She had gone back to Brett’s home and packed her things and fled back to Los Angeles. She hadn’t spoken to Brett since that night. Not even after Brett was released from the hospital had Juliet contacted her. It was as if they had never known each other.

  Brett shuddered in her bed as she remembered waking up in the hospital, her mother sitting next to her bed.

  “Mom, what …”

  “Honey, you’ve been in a very bad skiing accident and you had to have emergency surgery.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother, I’m so sorry …” Brett slid back into morphine—induced sleep as her mother watched and cried for her only child. She would have to tell her the horrible news. Her career as a skier was over. Mrs. Camden knew that information was going to destroy her daughter. Since she was a young child, it had been her dream to compete and win a gold medal in the Olympics. Brett had been less than a year away from her chance to do just that, and now that dream was destroyed. Roselin was angry at the fates that put her daughter in the hospital, but she knew Brett’s injuries had been brought on by her own unfortunate decision. Brett would know that when she woke up, and Roselin refused to put any more guilt on her only child while she was in this fragile condition. She was grateful that Brett was alive.

  Brett closed her eyes and willed the memories away. That was in the past, and there was nothing she could do about it now. She had been stupidly careless and was now living with the results. How could she think that Taylor could love her?

  How could she, knowing what Brett had done to herself? But she did, and that was a miracle. Brett would do anything to regain Taylor’s trust. Until she had something to offer Taylor, she wouldn’t sleep with her. She would get better and she would figure out some kind of a career. She would make herself worthy of Taylor’s love.

  Taylor lay in bed, unable to sleep, her body still aching after being held by Brett. She had managed to keep her feelings under control until tonight. Seeing Brett so helpless and vulnerable had made giving in to her emotions so easy, and then that kiss … it was so perfect, so Brett. God, she made Taylor crazy. She wasn’t irreparably damaged. She was hurt, but Taylor could help her heal. Being an alcoholic was no small problem, but Taylor knew Brett could deal with it. It was the fact that Brett didn’t realize her own worth that disturbed Taylor the most. Taylor couldn’t make Brett value herself—that was completely up to Brett.

  Taylor prayed that Brett would figure everything out, because if she didn’t, they couldn’t be together.

  CHAPTER 14

  Nervously, Brett pulled on her formal dinner jacket. At her mother’s request, she was wearing an elegant silk evening suit in jade green. Brett was not comfortable wearing an evening gown, but her mother had chosen her outfit well. The smartly cut designer suit fit her perfectly, and she smiled at her reflection. She was starting to feel more like the Brett she used to be. She was now doubling her workouts, against Taylor’s recommendation, but Brett had a goal. She was going to try to coach the U.S. Ski Team before their next winter season. She needed to be in better physical and mental shape to do that.

  Brett gathered her wallet and keys and slipped them into the front pocket of her jacket before exiting her bedroom. She was anxious to see Taylor. Since the night of their kiss a little over a week earlier, neither woman had touched the other. But attraction shimmered in the air when they were together. Brett was about ready to combust, but she had a plan. She had started by placing a vase of freshly gathered wildflowers in Taylor’s room. Then she had arranged a surprise hike that she had planned, including a gourmet picnic meal. They had laughed together at two romantic comedies Brett rented for a “movies and pizza” night at home. Then Brett invited Taylor to go for a walk in the moonlight one night.

  Not once did Brett do anything more than quietly visit with Taylor. Taylor was becoming increasingly puzzled by Brett’s behavior, but she was unwilling to take a chance by touching her again.

  That evening Brett had another surprise for Taylor
. A black velvet box was sitting on Taylor’s dresser with a note. The note had only one line: Thank you, Brett. She had found a splendid pair of antique diamond earrings with a matching necklace to go with Taylor’s evening gown. Brett hadn’t seen the dress on Taylor yet, but her mother had described it to her in detail. It was a pale mint green that draped low on her back and molded perfectly to her curvaceous figure.

  With her red hair and blue eyes, Brett knew she would be stunning.

  “Brett, you look beautiful.” Taylor’s soft voice reached her as she came down the stairwell.

  “You look …” Brett was speechless as she watched Taylor approach her. Stunning was too tame a word.

  Taylor’s smile was entirely too sexy as she reached up and placed a kiss on Brett’s cheek. “I found your gift on my dresser. Thank you.”

  “I see.” Brett’s eyes dropped to the diamonds nestled in Taylor’s cleavage. She envied the diamonds. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” Taylor wrapped a matching silk shawl around her shoulders and linked her arm with Brett’s.

  Brett’s heart pounded as she smiled into startling blue eyes and whispered to Taylor, her heart on her sleeve, “This is a date, you know.” Taylor’s eyes crinkled up with humor. “I know,” was all she said, but it was enough.

  Brett almost floated out to the waiting limousine. Her mother’s driver tipped his hat at the beautiful couple.

  The early dinner and auction were held at the downtown Boulder City Center Ballroom. Brett’s charismatic charm took over, and she made her mother proud.

  Her opening remarks were clever and humorous, as was her direct and heartfelt plea for donations to the children’s charity. Many people approached her and not once did she fail to introduce Taylor. She kept her hand on Taylor’s back, or Taylor’s arm was resting on hers. There was no mistaking that the two women were there together. Brett was attentive, solicitous, and terribly cute as she wooed Taylor. It was after eleven, the dance floor was crowded with dancing couples, and everyone was having a raucously good time. Taylor asked to be excused for a moment to use the rest room. She had been balancing on her high heels for several hours and needed to slip away for a few minutes to freshen up.