Lana protested. “We had more meals than that in Cheticamp. What about that picnic in the woods by the well?”
“I don’t count any meal where Michelle was present. She was even there for the supper in Cheticamp, but you and I did get to make out in the car afterward, so yeah, this makes four.”
“Fair enough.” Lana smiled. “Come on, admit it. You liked her a little bit.”
Emily shot her a wary look. “I liked what she was able to do for you,” she said. “That was significant. But otherwise, I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her. Honestly, it won’t surprise me if, after they find the car and retrieve the cross, it doesn’t suddenly disappear again.”
Lana paused mid-bite. “You really think she would steal it?”
Emily spread out her hands. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t put it past her.” She lowered her head, her pale eyes becoming darker, bluer somehow in the candlelight. “I have an idea. What if we don’t talk about her anymore? Instead, let’s keep the conversation on you and me.”
Lana felt a little sliver of delight. “I can manage that.” Reaching across the table, she took Emily’s hand in hers. “So, our fourth date, you say? Shouldn’t you have moved in by now?”
Emily smiled that wonderful smile. “Oh, no, we’re definitely going to go slow. Take our time. Get it right. Practice the whole concept of dating in a variety of ways.”
“A variety? I can’t wait.”
Lana could feel the heat generated between them, but she suspected Emily was quite firm on this subject. They would take their time. She just wasn’t sure how that worked. And then Emily was leaning across the table, half rising from her chair so she could kiss her, lips tasting of wine and willingness.
And a promise for the night ahead.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Emily discovered she rather liked this music, especially when, after dinner, Lana suggested that they dance to it. The songs were perfect, slow and sensual, as both of them moved together in perfect rhythm while the afternoon daylight faded and darkness descended, but neither switched on a light, content to dance in the flickering illumination from the fire and the candles on the table.
Lana really was a lovely dancer, a perfect presence that filled her heart as well as her arms. Had she and Sarah danced like this? Emily hoped not. She wanted this to be for her and Lana alone, rather than some pale imitation of a cherished memory.
“I like this,” Lana murmured then, as if somehow reading her mind. “And I love to dance. It was always such a struggle to get Sarah to—Well, it wasn’t her thing.”
“I like to dance.” Emily rested her cheek against the soft cushion of Lana’s thick hair. “Especially with you.”
Lana made a pleased sound and snuggled closer. Emily spread her fingers over the small of Lana’s back, feeling her warmth through the thin silk of her blouse. The tempo picked up a little and she drew back, extending her arms and twirling Lana before pulling her in again, Lana’s back against her front, the soft curve of her buttocks cushioned against her pelvis. Arms wrapped around her waist, Emily swayed with her and drew her lips up the line of her neck, kissing the soft skin as Lana tilted her head to offer more.
Then another twirl and Lana was facing her once more. It was natural that Emily kiss that wonderfully full mouth, breathing into the warmth of it. Desire coiled in the pit of her stomach, radiating heat to her chest, and lower, as she clenched, feeling the rush of moisture at the juncture of her legs.
Lana kissed her back, open and wanting, tongue sweet as it moved against Emily’s. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispered against her lips.
Emily hesitated for an instant. Was it too soon? But she was already in motion, following Lana obediently as she took Emily’s hand and pulled her toward the staircase. She could no more resist her than she could suddenly sprout wings and fly. She noticed that one of the stairs creaked as they ascended.
Emily had never been up on the second floor of Lana’s home, and she took in the area with a glance. A loft containing bookcases and a couple of large, comfortable chairs, delimited by a wooden railing to match the staircase, overlooked the living room below. The master bedroom was large, with a queen-sized bed, and through another door, Emily glimpsed a full ensuite, gleaming chrome and glass. The bedroom walls were painted a soft green and covered with photos. Pictures of Sarah and her life together with Lana, the two of them in a canoe on a river, on horseback in the woods, at Christmas and New Year’s, at a birthday party with a cake, and finally, on a beach somewhere warm with palm trees, both in bikinis. It wasn’t a shrine, necessarily, but the room was unmistakably full of memories.
As Lana embraced her, Emily gentled her kiss, lessening the passion. “Here?” she asked softly. “Are you sure?”
Lana paused, seemed surprised, then glanced around. And suddenly she smiled as she apparently realized the cause of Emily’s reserve. “She liked you, you know.”
“She did?” Emily was taken aback. “I didn’t know.”
She’d only met Sarah once, when stopping Lana for speeding, and the thin, wasted woman in the passenger seat had been a sad shadow of the vibrant woman displayed in the photos. But even as sick as she was, Sarah had smiled pleasantly at her, the RCMP officer who patrolled their community and had stopped them for something so banal as going twenty kilometers over the limit. Of course, Emily had let them off with a warning rather than a ticket. They’d been on their way to the hospital in Truro for a chemotherapy treatment, but as it turned out, Sarah never returned to Kennetcook after that. Instead, she’d been admitted and then transferred to Halifax, where she died a few months later.
And the next time Emily had seen Lana, moving as if in a daze as she ordered a meal at the diner, probably because her body had finally demanded she eat and she couldn’t manage to cook, Emily had asked her to join her. And every time after that, she’d made a point of scheduling her turnaround in Kennetcook so she could be at the diner, trying to coincide her break with Lana’s trip back from the hospital.
“I told her that you would always make me eat my supper at the diner,” Lana said, holding onto Emily and watching her, patient and kind. “Probably because you didn’t trust me to eat it at home. And you’d be right. Those fish and chips on the way back from Halifax were the only food I was getting just then.”
“You did order chicken burgers sometimes,” Emily said, aware of how absurd the comment was but unable to think of anything else to say.
Lana smiled and nuzzled into her chin. “I promised Sarah I would eat,” she continued gently. “But you were the one who helped me keep that promise. You were the one who gave me some kind of anchor during that time. You didn’t know that’s what you were doing, and neither did I, but that’s what was happening. And then, after she passed, you were the only one I could bear spending any kind of time with. Not my family, not our friends, just this pretty RCMP constable who liked to have lunch at the diner and tell me stories about all the crazy, funny things she’d seen growing up in Newfoundland.”
Tears stung the back of Emily’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lana. I know how much you loved her. How much it hurt to lose her.”
“It did.” The muscles in Lana’s neck were visible as she swallowed. “But it’s time to let it go. She’s gone, and I’m not. And being alive means being able to love, because that’s what she would have wanted. It’s what I want. And I want to love you.”
She kissed Emily, pulling her close, and Emily could taste the saltiness of tears. “I want to love you, too,” she whispered.
“So stop with the threats already, and just do it.”
Startled, Emily laughed as the mood changed and everything was all right again. Kissing her fully now, she tugged at Lana’s blouse, pulling it from her pants so she could unbutton it, revealing the dual swells of her breasts cupped in the white lace bra. Lana was doing the same with Emily’s uniform shirt, pushing it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Their trousers soon followed, then the
rest of their encumbering undergarments, leaving them scattered over the floor as they sank onto the soft cushion of the duvet, wrapped in each other’s arms.
Emily found it difficult to breathe. The feeling of Lana’s body against her own, so warm and soft and smooth after so long of wanting her, was nearly too much. Her kisses, shattering, were drawing something deep from Emily’s soul she was almost afraid to surrender. She whimpered, feeling herself pressed back onto the mattress, Lana’s hands on her, all over her, inciting the most delicious of sensations. She couldn’t stop kissing her, couldn’t stop touching her, wanting to be absorbed into her.
“What do you like?” Lana’s voice was a husky whisper.
“Oh, you,” Emily managed to say. “Touching me. This. All this. Good.”
Emily could feel the edge of her teeth on her neck as Lana smiled. “Not so talkative now,” she muttered, nibbling along her throat.
“No. Just here. Glad to be.”
A throaty chuckle and then Lana’s mouth was on Emily’s breasts, tongue swirling around her nipple, her fingertips stroking languidly over her belly. Emily moaned and quivered, responding to her touch. Then Lana’s hand, the palm flat on her stomach as it slid down, finally slipping between Emily’s legs.
“Oh.” Emily surrendered, the pleasure washing through her like floodwater across a plain, spreading to every corner of her being. Lana’s fingers were teasing her, rubbing over her as her teeth and tongue ravished her nipples, the sound wet and sticky and wonderfully provocative. Lana’s deep breathing offered a soft counterpoint to her own soft cries of delight. Emily could do little to return the caresses, helpless beneath Lana’s skilled hands and mouth, claimed and taken, branded as hers forevermore on her heart.
As her peak shuddered through her, she clutched Lana’s shoulders, fingers digging into her back, arching up into her, seeking the anchor of her presence lest she be cast adrift. And Lana, moving soft and slow over her now, let her sink back to herself, the pleasure continuing to throb through her in time with her heartbeat.
“Oh, gosh,” she muttered.
Lana laughed. “Really?”
“Incredible.” Emily was quick to assure her, finally coherent once more. She turned them over so she could offer Lana the same joy, taking her time now that her need had been dulled, though hardly quenched. She wanted her so badly. Every millimeter, she cherished, every sound she absorbed, every taste she drank greedily, wanting it all.
Trailing down Lana’s body, pausing often to linger over every sensitive spot, testing each part to measure her level of response, Emily explored and conquered. Mouth full of her flavor, musky and sweet, she feasted, wanting to consume her. Lana was no longer so facile with her speech, unable to utter anything but the most basic of moans, open and welcoming to Emily. The shudders that raked her body left her limp afterward, unable to move as Emily trailed up her body with the same intent scrutiny with which she’d gone down, until she reached her mouth and kissed her, long and deep and unhurried.
“Magnificent,” Lana whispered when Emily finally released her.
“Why, thank you,” Emily said, teasing as she nipped at her bottom lip.
Lana slapped at her back, a pat really, too weak to put any force behind it. “Don’t be smug.”
“Smug? Just because I knew it would be like this with us?”
“Because it’s enough to know what you do to me,” Lana said. “You don’t have to brag about it.”
Emily laughed and eased off her, settling onto her side so she could look down into her face. Lana’s eyes were closed, a curve to her full lips, a hint of a dimple at each corner. Emily propped her head on her left hand and used her right to explore Lana’s belly and breasts casually, not necessarily to incite passion again, though that would come in time, but rather because she could. Because she was now allowed such access, granted such intimacy. It filled her heart, watching Lana reclined there in the lazy moments of receding pleasure.
“You’re so beautiful,” she said softly.
Lana’s smile widened, and she opened her eyes to regard Emily. “You’re not so bad yourself, Constable Stone.”
“Even out of uniform?”
Lana turned her head to kiss Emily’s shoulder. “Oh, love, had I known what was beneath it, I would have had it off you long before now.”
“Pshaw,” Emily said and made Lana laugh again. She so loved Lana’s laugh. Absent for so long, it was unreserved and profound, indicative of the depths of her emotions, how deeply she could feel. How deeply Emily hoped Lana could feel for her.
It probably wasn’t love yet, she realized. It was too soon, this thing between them, too new, but it could be. It would be. And if it took time to nurture and grow, that was so much the better.
Because then it would be real, the sort of love that lasted a lifetime.
Chapter Thirty
“How old do you think Michelle is?”
Sheets tangled around them, Lana lay back against Emily, her breasts and belly a warm cushion beneath her, both propped up against a stack of pillows. They were basking in the easy glow of their togetherness, catching their breath after yet another energetic encounter. Faintly, Lana could hear the music wafting up from downstairs, through the open door of her bedroom.
“Really? That’s what you’re thinking right now?” But Emily sounded more amused than outraged.
“No, not like that,” Lana said, her cheeks heating. “I mean, I—” She paused. “I just want you to know that I thought she was older when I first met her. Especially when we, uh—”
“Ohhh, I see,” Emily said and chuckled. “Suddenly feeling a bit squeamish about bedding a kid?”
“Oh, God,” Lana said, putting a hand to her face to hide her eyes. “She really wasn’t a kid? Was she?”
Emily laughed and then apparently decided to take pity on her. “She’s twenty-seven. I ran a background check. I know she said she found out about her father in high school, but I think it was later than that. She didn’t register in university until she was twenty-five. Before that, she worked in a bar downtown.” She paused. “Not a nice touristy bar, a strip club, which might actually be where she first met Hector and told him she was his daughter.”
“How terrible,” Lana said, saddened by the information. She’d suspected Michelle had a tough go of it while growing up. “She was a stripper?”
“No, she was a bartender, but I don’t think she had a lot of opportunities growing up. Her mother was a waitress. There didn’t seem to be a lot of money there.” Emily lifted their hands so she could look at Lana’s, running her fingertips over the back of it caressingly. “Then suddenly, Michelle was able to pay for a full four-year tuition at Tulane.” She bent her head and kissed Lana on the temple. “Besides, wasn’t she trying to present herself as a professor when you first met her? It’s natural you assumed she was older.”
Lana made a sound, half embarrassed and half begrudging. “She liked playing her roles. It was never fully the truth when a lie would do.”
“She did like to tell stories, almost as much as you do.”
“At least I keep mine on the pages of a book, not in real life.” Lana exhaled and settled back in Emily’s arms, feeling warm and protected. “Still, she never twisted my arm. I made my own choices when it came to her.”
“Well, whatever else she was or did, she gets a pass with me for bringing you out of your misery. For now, at least.”
“Fair enough.”
Lana closed her eyes. She was tired enough for sleep but reluctant to surrender to her drowsiness, wanting to spend each moment with Emily awake and completely conscious of her presence. Emotions, long damped down, were filling her again. Sensations, previously ignored or rejected, now sizzled along her nerve endings, active and responsive. She could smell the warm perfume of Emily, hear the soft whisper of her breathing, the low thud of her heartbeat beneath her cheek, feel the silky smoothness of her skin. Emily was solid, with an athletic build, more muscular than Sa
rah, and not at all similar to the slight Michelle. Lana liked her bulk, liked how it made her feel to lie against her, how sheltered she felt in the warm embrace.
Lana honestly didn’t know if she would fall in love with Emily but suspected it was only a matter of time. It was enough now to know she might. God knew, she certainly wanted and needed her enough.
Emily’s lips trailed over her temple and cheek. “We should go down and put out those candles.”
Ever practical, Lana thought, and the trait filled her with a fuller sense of security. There’d be no games with Emily, she knew, just an open and honest integrity. In a world of uncertainty, when everything could be taken in an instant, when life was short and unpredictable, finding someone like Emily to love was more than Lana probably deserved and all she could have ever hoped to have in her future.
For the moment, she just wanted to lie in Emily’s arms and be happy. And she was happy, she realized. Something that, not so long ago, she never believed she’d feel again.
“Later,” she added. “Let’s just stay here for the time being.”
“Okay.” Emily tightened her embrace. “You’ll never have to ask me twice.”
“Good.” Lana exhaled slowly. “So where do we go from here? Because, you know. Lesbian. Processing.”
Emily laughed. “We date. For a few months. We see if we like the same things. I’ll try fly-fishing. You can come rock climbing with me. Maybe we’ll both try something new that neither of us has ever done before.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure,” Emily said, her tone thoughtful. “Sky diving?”
“Did it. There’s a small airport on the way to Windsor. White-water rafting?”
“The Red River in Alberta.” Emily hugged her. “Hang gliding?”
“I tried it in Wentworth off the ski hill. Snowboarding?”
“British Columbia one Christmas break.”
Lana was beginning to feel a little outmatched. It sounded as if Emily had been to every province in Canada. “Do you ever miss being out West?”
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