Oh, God. Torrie put her hand to her forehead, which suddenly hurt like hell. It was going to be a disaster, but Aunt Connie was hell-bent, and any more stubborn opposition on Torrie’s part would just lead to having to give a long and objectionable explanation. She sighed in resignation. “Okay. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Torrie took her time, still not believing her bad luck. First, that Grace was on the same island, and second, that her aunt had befriended the woman who made her heart leap into her throat every time she thought of her. It would all have been incredibly great luck if only the feelings had been mutual. But Torrie had blown her chances in Hartford, practically forcing herself on Grace, her body boldly suggesting things—wonderful, pleasurable things, but things nevertheless that Grace ultimately did not want. Or at least not with her. Grace had been skittish from the start, and Torrie had stupidly, selfishly ignored all the warning signs.
She knocked lightly on the door, hoping Grace wouldn’t answer, and that if she did, she wouldn’t at least heartlessly slam the door in her face. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, her ears rang, and it was all she could do to stay and not run off again. God. This was far worse than a sudden-death championship playoff, where she could decide her own fate with one masterful swing of her club.
The wood-framed screen door opened with a creak and Grace stood, looking up at her, her expression one of expectation, not surprise. Clearly, she’d known Torrie was on the island and would show up on her doorstep eventually.
“Torrie, if you’re here to—”
“I’m not.” Torrie tried to edge a little closer, but there was no invitation forthcoming. “Aunt Connie sent me.”
Grace smiled scornfully. “Your aunt made you come to the island? And then sent you to my door?”
“No. I mean…yes.” Torrie shook her head helplessly. Grace made her so confused sometimes. Made her forget herself.
“I suppose it’s her fault too that you tried to seduce me last week?”
Torrie swallowed her insolence, unprepared for Grace’s abrasiveness. She wanted to match Grace blow for verbal blow. Remind her that it was she who’d come to Torrie’s room that last night. That Grace had thoroughly kissed her back. But she knew that would only make things worse between them. “I’m not here about us.”
Grace leaned against the paint-flaked, weathered doorframe. “It seems a little odd to me that you’re here at all, Torrie. Did you follow me here?”
“No, I did not follow you.” Torrie nearly spat out the words, her temper flaring. “I do not need to follow women around the globe.”
“Oh, how silly of me to forget that women usually swoon and fall at your feet with a mere glance in their direction.”
Okay, now she’s just being mean. “I’m surprised you would even recognize such a reaction, Grace.”
That got what Torrie wanted. Grace stiffened visibly, her jaw quivered a little, and the vein in her neck throbbed. “Is that the way it’s going to be between us?” she asked quietly, her earlier attitude gone. There was no challenge in her question this time.
Torrie stepped closer and tentatively touched a fingertip to Grace’s bare forearm, then another, until her hand closed loosely around Grace’s wrist. “No.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “No, it’s not how it’s going to be.”
“Then how?”
Torrie stepped into the doorway and Grace wordlessly let her pass. A quick glance around told Torrie that Grace was alone. A dozen questions popped up in her mind like whitecaps on a raging sea, so many that she didn’t know where or how to begin. “I don’t know, Grace. I had no idea you were here for the summer. If I had, I—”
“Wouldn’t have come?” Grace supplied.
Torrie shrugged helplessly. Would she have stayed away had she known? Did it really matter now? “Did Aunt Connie tell you I was here?”
“She told me two days ago that you were coming.”
“Why didn’t you tell me last week that you knew my aunt, that you were staying here?”
“I’m sorry about that, Torrie. I didn’t think it mattered because I didn’t expect to ever see you again.”
“Are you still angry with me?” Torrie asked. She still didn’t understand why Grace was upset with her, just that she clearly was. Grace had stormed out of the hotel room that night, and she was still pissed and acting like Torrie had insulted her in the worst possible way by merely hitting on her.
Yes, I wanted to take you to bed that night, Grace. But not in the way you think. It wouldn’t have been like the other one-night stands. You wouldn’t have been like the others.
Grace turned toward a worn and comfortable-looking leather couch and fell into it. Torrie followed and sat down opposite her, knowing she could not bring herself to say the words she wanted to say.
“I’m not angry, Torrie. I just want you to understand that I meant what I told you last week about not wanting to get involved.”
With difficulty, Torrie tried not to let her exasperation show. She really didn’t need Grace treating her like a little kid who had to be taught the same lesson over and over. “Look, I know you don’t want anything to do with me, okay? You’ve made that very clear.”
“No, that’s not fair, Torrie. I never said I didn’t want anything to do with you.”
“Could have fooled me. You didn’t exactly leave me your card when you left.” Torrie’s voice had risen along with her anger. She wasn’t used to women blowing her off, especially someone who had actually mattered for a change. “I don’t think Aunt Connie would appreciate us acting like we hate each other in her presence.”
Grace looked at her sharply. “Is that what you think? That I hate you?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Torrie answered, calmer now. “I thought we were getting along really well. That we connected, you know? That we liked each other.”
Grace looked fresh-faced and youthful—her skin tanned, her golden hair pulled casually back into a ponytail, a baggy T-shirt and cargo shorts giving her a decidedly adolescent look. But she looked anxious, unsure, her body taut beneath the clothing, and the contradiction struck Torrie as so typical of Grace. Always the mixed signals, with the real Grace Wellwood as elusive as ever.
“There’s more to it than that, don’t you think?” Grace asked quietly.
Grace was looking at her so disarmingly, with such raw honesty, that Torrie leaned closer. She wanted to put her arms around Grace, beg for another chance. Tell her how she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, how she’d come to the island not just to recover from her injury, but to try to purge Grace from her every waking moment. She had to look away, her eyes fixing on the distant sea through the large floor-to-ceiling windows at the rear of the house.
“Of course there was more to it than that,” Torrie admitted grudgingly, unwilling to risk anything more. She’d been rejected by Grace for the last time.
“Torrie… I couldn’t… It wouldn’t have been right for me to sleep with you. I—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Torrie said more harshly than she’d intended. “You already made it clear you want nothing to do with me sexually, or—”
“Torrie—”
“No, it’s okay, Grace. You’re not attracted to me. You don’t want any sort of relationship with me. I’m cool with it, okay?” She’d be damned if she’d show she wasn’t cool with it, nor would she let Grace see how much she still wanted her. Torrie stood abruptly. “I won’t bother you here, Grace. You have my word. My Aunt Connie, on the other hand… She asked me to come over here and invite you to have dinner with us tomorrow night.”
“That’s very sweet of her.”
“I’ll make sure I’m not there.”
“Torrie, look. That’s not necessary.”
Torrie was at the door in five long strides. “Connie likes you, Grace. I don’t want to get in the way of your friendship with her. I’ll tell her—”
“No, you won’t tell her anything.” Grace leaped
after her and grabbed Torrie’s hand, her touch sending a jolt that shot straight up Torrie’s arm and into her chest. “She would be offended and upset, Torrie. There’s no need to do that to her. We can…you know, just…”
“I’m not sure that I can, Grace.” Torrie pulled her hand free.
Grace looked startled, as though Torrie’s words were a slap. “You mean… Torrie, please—”
“Look, I’ll try. Okay?”
“All right.” Grace nodded her relief. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
The painstaking effort Connie and Torrie had gone to was evident, and Grace was pleased. Their meatloaf was more than passable and the scalloped potatoes even had a sprinkle of fresh parsley on them. She thanked them again, pushing her empty plate aside and raising her glass of Chardonnay in a meaningful toast. Connie looked thrilled. Torrie, on the other hand, had been perfunctorily polite through dinner, but little more.
Torrie served coffee on the screened-in veranda at the front of the house, dashing in and out to fetch first the sugar, then the cream. It was obvious she was looking for any excuse to escape. A ringing phone took her away again. Connie rolled her eyes, clearly sensing something was amiss, but she kept silent. Grace chattered on more than usual, trying to cover the tension, but she knew Connie wasn’t fooled.
When Torrie finally returned and edged her way onto the swinging loveseat next to Connie, her aunt fondly tapped her on the knee.
“You know, I was hoping the two of you might get to know each other better.”
Torrie and Grace shared a fleeting look in the dim light.
“I’m going over to the mainland for a couple of weeks.”
“Is everything okay?” Torrie asked worriedly.
“Of course, dear.” Connie patted her knee again. “I’m going to spend some time visiting with my friends Hilary and Jane. You remember them, don’t you?”
“Sure. But I thought they usually spend time here with you every summer? It usually takes a winch and a dozen big lumberjacks to get you off this island in the summer.”
Connie laughed. “Who says an old dog can’t learn new tricks? Besides, they’ve promised me all kinds of fun, with day trips here and there and evenings of card games. Maybe even a little poker.”
“Ooh,” Grace teased, wagging her finger. “Just don’t let them talk you into strip poker, Connie.”
“Ahh, now that sounds like the voice of experience talking.” Connie winked slyly.
Grace knew Torrie was looking at her, and she blushed a little, again remembering their searing kiss and how her legs had trembled beneath Torrie’s touch. She cleared her throat hard and forced a smile. “A woman doesn’t strip and tell. Just remember that.”
They laughed, Torrie included.
“I promise I won’t reveal anything about my time away,” Connie said.
“You’re not hooking up with someone, are you?”Torrie’s tone was playful. “You got some little chicky on the side you haven’t told us about?”
Connie swatted Torrie’s leg.“I think one playgirl in the family is enough, my dear girl.”
Torrie looked a little sheepish, and Grace couldn’t resist taking her own poke at Torrie. “You wouldn’t just have one chicky on the side. You’d have a whole flock, wouldn’t you, Torrie?” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.
That familiar gleam appeared in Torrie’s eyes, and it was the old Torrie again—the playful, teasing Torrie that Grace found so irresistible.
“Mother Goose seems to know a lot about the topic.” Torrie waggled her eyebrows at Grace then narrowed her eyes accusingly. “Maybe you’re the one with the hot babe on the side.”
Grace unconsciously sucked in her breath. Torrie had just unknowingly landed a lethal shot and it hurt like hell. Shame and guilt flooded over her, and she shrank further into her wicker chair. Yes, I was the other woman. Yes, I was selfish and stupid. And yes, I was an idiot. She wanted to disappear, forget about the worst mistake she’d ever made in her life. What would Torrie and Connie really think of her if they knew?
Torrie was leaning forward in her seat as though she wanted to spring to Grace’s side. She looked mortified, not judgmental at all, and her concern touched Grace.
“I actually wish you did have a hot little number on the side, Aunt Connie.” Torrie rescued her by reverting her attention back to Connie.
“Well, just maybe I’ll meet someone. You never know.” Connie smiled eagerly, instantly lifted by the kind of youthful hope that only the thought of romance can bring. “Anyway,” Connie continued. “It would be nice if the two of you could chum around together while I’m away. You’re probably the only two young single women on the entire island.”
Grace certainly couldn’t disagree. The women on the island were either much older or married with an armful of kids.“You’re right. It’s not exactly a haven for young, nubile lesbians, is it? It’s a good thing I’m not in the market for one.”
Connie laughed and looked dreamily at Grace. “If only you were in the market for a crusty old dyke. That I could help you with!”
Grace and Torrie both erupted in laughter, Grace finally reaching out and grasping Connie’s hands in hers. “Connie, if I were in the market at all, you’d be the first one I’d approach.”
Connie shook her head, clearly not buying it. “I should be so lucky, young lady, and you’re far too kind to this cynical old woman. But…” Her eyes were kind, but there was a sadness in them too. “I’m sorry to hear that you’re not in the market, Grace. And not just for my sake, believe me. You’re far too good a catch to spend your time alone.” Connie turned to Torrie and her voice held an edge. “Don’t you agree, Torrie?”
“I…sure. But how come you don’t say nice things like that about me?” Torrie tried to look offended, which only made her aunt frown deeper.
“I would if you actually spent any time alone.”
“Hey, I’m alone right now,” Torrie protested. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been an angel the last couple of months.”
“Ooh,” Connie teased, pointing her finger. “That must be a new record for you.”
Grace was enjoying the interaction between them, their roles honed to perfection over the years. Aunt and niece were so much alike, she decided. They must have had some wonderful spats when Torrie was a teenager.
“You know records don’t mean a thing to me, Aunt Connie.”
Connie guffawed in delight. “Sure you don’t. How many golf records do you own?”
Torrie shrugged. “I don’t know. Two or three maybe.”
“Hmm, let’s see. There’s the lowest score by a woman ever on the Tour for both an eighteen-hole round and a tournament. There’s the most number of wins in one year. There’s that streak of how many tournament cuts you’ve made. What else…most money earned in one year by a woman golfer—”
“All right, all right.” Torrie broke into a silly grin and kissed Connie on the cheek. “You never forget a thing, do you?”
“That’s right, and don’t you forget it. Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.” Connie winked at Grace. “And in my absence, I’m counting on you to do it, Grace.”
“Me?” Grace was thrown by Connie’s curveball.
“Don’t worry. You’re up to the task.”
Torrie looked resigned and gave her a tiny shrug. Grace stared back in disbelief. Connie was far more astute and prescient than either could have predicted.
Connie yawned, pulled herself up slowly from her seat and stretched gingerly. “I know it’s early, but this crusty old woman is going to bed. Torrie, will you walk Grace home?”
“Really, I’m fine to walk home,” Grace said.
“No, I insist. Or rather, Torrie insists, don’t you, Torrie?”
“Yeah, sure. C’mon, Grace, I’ll walk you home.”
They were silent on the short walk to Trish’s cottage, Grace still in awe of Connie’s crafty ways. She had to hand it to her. She knew how to get her point across, how to get
what she wanted. As they approached the stone walkway to the cottage, Grace stole a glance at Torrie. “Torrie? Do you think your aunt knows about us?”
“What’s to know?”
“Well, you know…” Okay, so you want to play that game, do you? You want me to remind you of how you had me up against that door, grinding into me, making me wetter than that beautiful big ocean out there while you kissed me silly and made me forget about everything else in those few delicious moments? How I practically came right there against you and screamed for more because there was nowhere else I wanted to be but in your arms, having you do what you were doing to me? Grace swallowed hard, the unseasonably warm June air suffocatingly close. Torrie was looking at her, waiting. Well, I won’t play that remember-when game, Torrie. I’m not going to tell you what I really felt that night. How much I wanted you. She calmly slid her key into the lock. “I get the feeling she’s trying to throw us together, that’s all.”
“Connie’s just being concerned, that’s all. And a bit of a troublemaker, I suspect.”
Grace turned the key, unlocking the door, but she didn’t open it. “Concerned?”
“About you. About me. She just wants everyone to be happy, that’s all. Wants everything in its place, I guess.”
So Connie was really an optimist. A romantic at heart and not the curmudgeon she sometimes pretended to be. “Your aunt is very sweet, Torrie. I think the world of her.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Would you like to come in for a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Grace gave a mild start. She didn’t expect Torrie to turn her down.
“Torrie.” Grace turned to face her, their bodies only inches apart. She could smell the sun and outdoors on Torrie’s skin. Her shampoo, the lavender laundry scent of her clothes too. As much as the seeds of friendship were beginning to blossom between them again, there were still hurt feelings that needed to be addressed. She took a deep breath before she spoke. “I really need to apologize to you.”
“Grace, you don’t have—”
Side Order of Love Page 13