by J. M. Dabney
“Do you want to get out of here?” Andrea asked.
“What about Artie?”
Arching a brow, she reached over to pinch the woman’s cute, rounded chin, angling the other woman’s gaze to the spectacle on the other side of the crowded room. “I think she’s covered.”
She shot Eva a smirk when the woman shook her head on seeing Smarties standing between two studs.
“She’s incredible.” Eva nodded at the statement. Artie was one of the least discriminating women she’d ever met. She recognized a lot of herself in the younger woman.
“Yes, she is. How about some dinner?” Andrea asked. Changing the subject seemed the best course of action. She guessed with age came wisdom, but it might be a lesson learned too late.
“Dinner sounds great. The idea of going out seemed more appealing than reality. Besides, I’ll give my love-deprived sister my share of the lovely ladies.”
“That’s incredibly generous of you.” Sliding from the semicircle bench seat, she straightened and held her hand out. Once again, the soft look from under the thick fringe of lashes and her smile caused a tug in the pit of her stomach She laced their fingers together and led Eva toward the front exit.
Chapter Three
Eva inhaled the humid night air as Andrea and she walked out of Sappho’s Kiss. Her tense muscles relaxed. She hated feeling like the prize of a hunt. The taller woman turned and stepped backward, shooting her a grin while picking apart the sloppy bun she’d twisted her hair into earlier. “I thought you’d be home, working the weekend away.”
A strange, fleeting glimmer flitted through Andrea’s shadowed eyes. “The whole weekend waits for work and pouring over files filled with details of another failed marriage.”
“Wow, is that the bitterness of a former romantic?” Eva joked.
“I’m not bitter, just a realist.”
She chuckled. “Uh-huh, tell me another one.”
Andrea snorted and stopped to lean back against a closed storefront. “My father is on his sixth wife. I myself am the product of him shagging his secretary irresponsibly. She quit, I popped out some seven months later, and she dropped me on his doorstep.”
Regret for her joking words hit her at the sadness darkening the woman’s gaze and the lost edge to her tone. “Oh, Andrea, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Her friend held up her hand. “No, it’s fine. I’ve met my mother. She’s no more settled than my father, and neither possess parenting skills. Joy is on her fifth husband, each wealthier than the one before.”
She couldn’t imagine what the jaded brunette had gone through for decades—four, to be exact. Eva’s mother and father were crazy in love even after decades of marriage. For almost thirteen years, she’d thought she would be exactly like them, but her marriage hadn’t been meant to be. That being said, she loved her life now. A little lonely, but she had her family and her babies. They were all she needed.
“You’re not them. You know that, right? If I were, I’d still be blissfully married to my high school sweetheart. You’ve met the parents. They’re so happy and lovey, the sweetness makes you nauseous.”
“Yes, I noticed the high-level of sugary goodness.” Eva relaxed at Andrea’s normal, carefree tone.
“I would have to agree. Why aren’t you thinking of settling down with your current ladylove?”
A loud, heavy sigh took Eva by surprise.
“What?”
“It’s complicated. We have fun, but she’s only around maybe the total of a week a month. Actually, I might be thinking about settling down into one of those normal, committed relationships.”
She gasped playfully and staggered a bit as she caught herself against the wall beside Andrea’s shoulder. “Who are you, and what happened to my confirmed bachelorette? Tell me you’re not thinking about a wife and kids. I don’t think Armani makes maternity wear, but I’ll look into it for you.”
“Oh, hell no. I won’t say no to a nice little lady to come home to, but I won’t be grunting out any kids. The thought of birthing babies made my Stud Card shudder in fear of revocation. Although, with that said, I’m not averse to having a few rug rats running around.”
“Don’t be silly, I’m sure your Stud Card’s very safe. I’ve known you for years, and you’ve never mentioned wanting to settle down. What’s going on in your beautiful head?” Her heart stuttered a few times, as she realized what she’d said. But when Andrea gave no sign of noticing anything unusual, she relaxed.
Andrea pushed away from the wall and started walking again. She followed with quickened steps until she caught up.
“I’m a divorce attorney. I deal in failed relationships every day. How would I even know where to start?”
“Maybe you could start with dating someone more than six months at a time, or maybe find a woman who doesn’t travel 90 percent of the year. Find a nice girl, go out on some dates, and get to know someone outside the bedroom.”
“Eva! You make me sound like a whore. I don’t hop from one bed to the next as I did in my younger days. With age comes a bit of maturity, I hope.”
“Is that what it’s called? Will Artie reach middle age before she finds some maturity?”
“Hey, baby, I’m not middle-aged.” Andrea scowled at her, and Eva laughed. “I’ve no idea what Smarties is going to do, but you think I should try this serious dating thing?”
“What could it hurt? We could set you up on some blind dates, maybe sign up on some websites. Oh, wait!” She wrapped her fingers around Andrea’s lean-muscled bicep and pulled her to a stop. She forced herself not to caress her fingers and thumbs over Andrea’s arm. “Speed dating!”
“No, no, and hell no!” The tone in the woman’s voice was clearly borne of insult.
She pouted and batted her lashes. “You’re no fun. Artie and I’d go with you to offer moral support.”
“No, you’d be there for moral support. Artie would be there to crack jokes and find a hook up for the night. I’ll think about the dating thing. I’m technically still seeing Natalia.”
Soft lips stroked over her cheek, and butterflies exploded in her stomach.
“You still hungry?”
“Yes!” The word came out too husky, but she covered it with a smiled. Andrea laced their fingers and darted through the late-night traffic to the diner across the street.
She could’ve said so much, maybe even asked her beautiful friend on one of those real dates they’d talked about. Inwardly, Eva sighed. No, it wouldn’t work. The woman beside her was sophisticated, successful. Harmless fantasies, that’s all they were. God knows she’d had plenty of them—five years’ worth to be precise.
The air-conditioned interior of the diner cooled her overheated cheeks. She’d die of embarrassment if the stunning woman ever learned her secret. Andrea kept their fingers laced. She led Eva through the crowded retro-style diner toward the front windows. Eva slid into a booth, her friend sat across from her, and their fingers seemed to linger. Eventually, they eased apart. She almost sighed at the loss of contact, not wanting to admit even to herself how much she’d enjoyed the simple act of the other woman holding her hand.
Andrea lifted two menus from the metal holder and passed one to her.
“Thank you.”
“What’ll be your poison, sweetheart?”
Chuckling, Eva scanned the menu as they chatted back and forth, joking and laughing until a perky blonde waitress in a ’50s style uniform stopped beside their table. The woman showed more cleavage than should be legal. She peeked at Andrea, but the other woman gave a pleasant smile, not even looking at the flesh on display. They ordered, and the waitress named Sara bounced away.
The evening went by with food, laughter, and too much coffee. She hadn’t thought it possible, but she liked Andrea more and more. Eva found the small lines beside her eyes attractive. They deepened when she laughed. Selfish, that’s how she felt. She wanted to keep the intriguing contradiction all to herself. Maybe she was a masoc
hist, but she liked her friend more than she should. She’d fallen for Andrea long ago. A frown threatened to form, yet she pushed it away. She’d already passed the point of no return.
Dealing with Artie, after only a few hours of sleep, wasn’t on her morning to-do list.
“You left with Andrea last night. I’m impressed.”
Eva rolled her eyes at her sister over the rim of her coffee mug.
“I want details. Every nasty, sweaty detail.”
“We went to Ruth’s Diner across from Sappho’s Kiss. After we ate, I took a cab home.”
“You’ve been half in love with her since I introduced you two. When are you going to jump her like you’ve been dying to do? It’s not like you’re in the Bisexual Closet of Shame.”
“It’s complicated.”
Her sister scoffed and a brow rose. “That’s a Slade answer if I ever heard one. Now, tell me flat out, uncensored, why?”
“Have you looked at her? Tall, beautiful, successful. She’s right up there in the social food chain as the perfect catch. Half the lesbians and bisexuals in the city want her!” She gasped for breath then realized the words had rushed out.
Artie burst out with loud giggling snorts. “Eva, my gorgeous big sister, no one is perfect. Has she ever been a monogamous woman of virtue or a paragon of any kind?
“She just hasn’t met the right woman yet.”
“I think she has, but you’re too fucking terrified to claim what you want.” Artie reached out and grabbed Eva’s hands. “Sis, you might end up surprised. It’s been five long, very dry years. When you part your thighs, it probably sounds like the winds blowing across the Sahara. I think it is past time for you to let her flick the bean.” The giggle snorts began again and grew louder. Her brows lifted, disappearing behind her shaggy bangs.
“Sahara? Flick the bean?” Her voice raised a few octaves and squeaked.
“Yes, the Sahara, and I have been dying to use the term flick the bean. At last!” Artie threw her hands in the air and let out a relieved sigh.
When Artie crossed her eyes and flicked the air with her index finger, Eva rolled her eyes, almost snorting her coffee. “Only you.” She needed to change the subject. “I did suggest she needed to be more serious about dating.”
“Buuut, you suggested she date people other than you. Just give in already.”
“I know.” Her mind flashed back to the night her divorce had become final and she’d met Andrea Slade.
Chapter Four
Five Years Earlier…
Eva walked into Sappho’s Kiss, wondering if she had the right address. The only thing Artie’s note had written on it was an address and time. A bar was the last place she wanted to be.
“Surprise! Happy Independence Day!”
She almost jumped out of her skin when strangers surrounded her. Her sister pushed through the circle and wrapped slender arms around Eva’s neck.
“Welcome to the first day of freedom. How does it feel to be released from the shackles of wedded misery?”
Somehow, a drink found its way into her hand. “Artie, I’m not in the mood for this.”
Her sister threw a comforting arm over her shoulders and hugged Eva to her side. “This”—Artie motioned to the packed club with a sweep of her arm—“my dear emancipated sister, is exactly what you need. Find you a nice freaky butch or stud for the evening to rock your world. It’s time to broaden your horizons.”
“Art—”
Artie cut her off with a hard glare, and she sipped her drink. Her divorce final a mere six hours and she already hated single life. She’d found comfort in her marriage, in her routines and her role as a mom. Now, she felt lost.
“Come on. I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”
Artie dragged her through a crowd of gyrating bodies, causing Eva to trip over her own feet. Her breath hitched as she caught sight of a tall woman dressed casually in jeans and a red V-neck T-shirt, her hair in a short mussed boy cut. The stranger laughed at something her beautiful blonde companion said, while the woman adoringly watched the stranger.
“Smarties!” The tall woman waved Artie over, and they shoved their way faster through the crowd.
“Andrea, just the stud I was looking for.”
The woman rolled her warm brown eyes and leaned down to brush a kiss to Artie’s cheek. “Who’s your beautiful friend?”
“Andrea, meet Eva Lange, my sister,” Artie said. “Eva, this gorgeous specimen is Andrea Slade.”
The most beautiful woman she’d ever met winked at her, and Eva’s cheeks burned. “A pleasure to finally meet the guest of honor. Your sister talks about you all the time. I hear congratulations are in order.”
Elegant fingers took hold of hers, and Eva’s tongue twisted and tied. The stranger brushed her full, silky lips over her knuckles.
“Thank you.” She forced the words past the tightness of her throat. “I never expected to get a congratulatory celebration for the falling apart of my thirteen-year marriage.” At the release of her hand, a sigh caught at the barrier of her tightly pressed lips.
“Every great breakup—good or bad—should be celebrated with lots of booze and rebound booty.”
Andrea said the words with another wink that took her by surprise, causing her to choke on her drink. Artie slapped Eva on the back.
She cleared her throat. “I have no interest in rebound booty, but the alcohol I will accept.”
“Shame.” The smirking woman took a draw from an almost-empty brown bottle. The expression on Andrea’s face caused her thighs to clench, but she pushed away the thoughts, chalking it up to the strong drink making her head fuzzy.
Unaccustomed to drinking, the sweet, strong cocktail caused her stomach to warm and her limbs to tingle. No one had shown Eva attention in so long, a stranger’s harmless flirting and a few sips of liquor made her imagine things.
“Nice meeting you.” She spoke to Andrea and only received a nod. “Artie, I’m going to get a refill. I’ll be right back.” Eva sighed and sidestepped through the crush of bodies until she reached the long, glossy crimson-colored bar. A black marker appeared as she noticed names and dates covered the surface.
“Newbies give us their autographs.”
She glanced up, way up, at ice-blue eyes. The bartender was a big woman, tall and slender, with a bright toothy grin. “Thanks, I’m—”
“Eva, the fresh meat on the menu.”
“What?” Her voice squeaked.
“Don’t tell me you’re not feeling dirty from all the leers you’re getting.” The Valkyrie chuckled and shook her head. “You didn’t even notice. How much of a newbie are you, or are you just taking a short walk on the Lezzie Side?”
Indignation burned in her gut at the amusement in the bartender’s expression. “Most people would consider me bi, but I never paid attention to who I’m attracted to. The package isn’t all that important.”
“You’re one of those greedy pansexuals.”
“I’m not greedy!”
The big woman bent at the waist to lay her forearms on the bar and let out a shocking belly laugh.
“You know, it’s not nice to make fun of people.”
“You’re cute.”
She growled. “I’m not a puppy.”
“Oh, baby, throw a little bite in with the growl and I’ll upgrade ya to totally fuck-able.”
She stared, mouth agape, at the bartender. The woman placed her fingertips beneath Eva’s chin to close her mouth. The action pulled her from her shock. She shook her head. “Do you drink on the job?”
The belly laugh notched up a few more decibels. “Honey, I don’t drink. The name’s Amy. You ever need anything, a bodyguard, whatever, you know where to find me.” Amy took her glass and mixed her another. The amount of vodka flowing over the ice cubes shocked Eva. “Relax, you’re celebrating.”
“I also need to be functional and not hungover in the morning.”
“You only get divorced once, if you’re lucky. S
o, enjoy a few drinks or a dozen.”
Eva huffed as Amy finished making her drink but the bartender merely chuckled. That second drink turned into the dozen Amy had spoken of. With her head swimming, her body decided she needed to dance. She lost herself in the moment and the alcohol.
Closing her eyes, she danced to one pumping beat after another in a long techno frenzy, a writhing mass of damp skin and grinding bodies. Time flew while she consumed several drinks during occasional breaks. The shock of bright lights and a yell of last call had her swaying and stutter stepping to the nearest stable surface. Eva clumsily pushed sweaty curls back from her face.
“Artie!” She threw her arms around her sister’s neck. “I love you. I sooooo needed this.”
“Sister dear, you’re fucking trashed.”
“Am not!” Eva protested and ruined it with a giggle.
“Oh, she really is.”
She recognized Amy’s voice and grinned.
“Baby, wasn’t there nonsense talk about being functional and not hungover?”
“It’s your fault!” She turned on Amy and fell into her arms. “Wow!” Eva stroked her palms over flexed biceps and felt the shift of muscle beneath soft, tanned skin.
“No, no, no.” Artie grasped her arm before Amy lifted her out of her sister’s reach.
“Wait now, Smarties. Your sister is examining the magnificent package that is me. Leave her be.”
Amy’s breath brushed her ear, her biceps flexing tighter, and Eva gasped. “Wow,” she said in a breathless sigh.
Soft lips pressed to hers, and a tongue thrust into her mouth. The sweetened bitter flavor of coffee burst on her senses, and her arms came up to rest over broad shoulders.
“Aw, hell naw! Put my sister down right this minute, you Neanderthal-ette.”
As Artie protested, the roaring of blood in Eva’s ears nearly drowned out her words, the alcohol driving away all rational thought. Her thighs tightened and heat built between them. Amy’s tongue danced with hers. The curl and the teasing flick made her softer stomach clench against rock-hard abs. The kiss seemed to last forever, but ended much too soon. Moving back, Amy nipped at her lower lip, causing Eva to make a strange gasping moan.