by Aurora Rey
Kiera raised a shoulder. “Hapless and charming seems to work for you when you want it to.”
She shook her head. “How do you manage to tease and compliment me at the same time?”
Kiera smirked. “It’s a gift.”
The back door opened and Grace came tearing in. Xinxin and Gary followed. The timer on the stove beeped and Alana got up to pull the ham and scalloped potatoes from the oven. In the bustle of getting hands washed and the table set, her pending date faded into the background. Which was fine by her. But when they all sat down at the table, Kiera snagged the seat next to her and leaned in. Quinn braced herself for, well, something.
“I’m happy for you, and I hope it works out.”
“But?”
“But nothing.”
Quinn regarded her with suspicion. “No, really. What’s the catch? The fact that you’re not the one who set me up?”
Kiera let out an exasperated sigh. “Stop. I’m not a jerk. No catch.”
“I wasn’t accusing you of being a jerk. I mostly appreciate that you don’t let me off the hook.”
“Aw, that’s like the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
It was her turn to say, “Stop.”
“Okay, fine. You’ve said nicer things. But I mean it. I’m happy you’re interested in someone. And I’m glad you’re doing it on your terms.”
And this was why she loved her family. They could be the biggest pains known to man, but when push came to shove, they had her best interests at heart. And maybe even more importantly, they had her back. “Thanks.”
“But don’t think for one second you’re going to keep the details to yourself.”
Quinn laughed. “Noted.”
Chapter Thirteen
Amanda sat at her vanity, taking extra care with her makeup. It had more to do with taking pleasure in the ritual than being nervous about her appearance. Quinn already knew what she looked like, after all. And had seen her looking less than her best.
No, tonight was about slowing down and remembering all the fun aspects of going on a date with someone. Just the right amount of anticipation without the worry of whether or not they’d hit it off. Not having to worry if it was ill-advised was nice too. And since she was pretty sure Quinn wasn’t a first date sex sort of person, it was kind of a relief to have that off the table, at least for now. Maybe, though, maybe there would be a kiss. Or kisses, plural. She’d been thinking quite a lot about what it would be like to kiss Quinn again. Kiss her in earnest.
Her doorbell rang at seven on the dot, making her wonder if it was a fluke or if Quinn had arrived early but waited. Either prospect had a certain charm. She grabbed her purse and opened the door, only to find Quinn clutching a bouquet of irises. She couldn’t suppress the girly sigh that escaped. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Quinn smiled. “Roses seemed presumptuous for some reason. But I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
Amanda raised a brow. “A floral compromise?”
Quinn chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”
The little dance of forward and back, bold and timid, made her like Quinn even more. “They’re beautiful.”
Quinn handed over the bouquet. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Give me a second to put them in water.”
Quinn followed her to the kitchen. “How are your kids enjoying summer?”
“Daniella is a counselor at a music camp up in Rochester and Cal is working at Rustic Refined so he doesn’t have to get a job on campus first semester. They’re both lamenting how much adulting it all is.”
“Sounds rough.”
Amanda laughed. “You and your ex don’t have kids, right?”
“Correct. We decided to do the doting aunt thing. Or at least I did. She was never one for kids.”
Something in the phrase struck her. “Did you want them?”
Quinn considered for a moment, like she was choosing her words carefully. “I thought I did. Lesedi, that’s my ex, wasn’t completely opposed. She would have considered them, for me.”
“Sounds like a hard position to be in.” What would she have done if Mel hadn’t wanted kids?
“It was hard for both of us. She didn’t want to be the reason I gave up that dream.”
“So what happened?”
Quinn shrugged. “The more I thought about driving that decision, the less appealing it became. Lesedi would have done her part, but I don’t know. I think I would have felt guilty every time it got hard.”
The answer seemed genuine and not tinged with regret. “I respect that. A lot, actually. I think when lesbians started getting married, the assumption of kids came with it. Not quite as bad as straight couples, but kind of.”
Quinn’s hands came up like she was having an aha moment. “You’re so right. I’d never thought of it that way.”
“I blame the patriarchy.”
“Damned patriarchy.”
Amanda moved the vase of flowers from the sink to the island. “I didn’t mean to take us on such a personal tangent.”
“Yeah. At least let a woman buy you dinner first.”
Amanda smiled. “Maybe you should let me buy you dinner in exchange for the third degree.”
“Nope.” Quinn shook her head. “You’ve already cooked me dinner. And since I can say with some certainty I’ll never cook you dinner, you have to let me compensate.”
The comment seemed to have nothing to do with the likelihood of another date and everything to do with Quinn’s skills in the kitchen. “You don’t cook?”
Quinn cleared her throat. “Maybe we could eat before we have this conversation.”
“All right. I’m not going to forget, though.” She wanted to know whether Quinn didn’t like to cook or if she couldn’t. An important distinction in her book, even if neither was technically a dealbreaker.
“Sure, sure. Not like meetings.”
The comment, delivered with a straight face, took a second to register. Teasing more than a jab. Another important distinction. “I’m not going to live that down, am I?”
She expected Quinn to let her off the hook, perhaps with a friendly shrug and a smile. Instead, she responded with, “Not any time soon.”
Amanda decided to try a little teasing of her own. “I’m good at making things up to people, though.”
Okay, maybe not the best double entendre, but she was trying. And Quinn seemed to like it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
* * *
Since they were so close to Trumansburg, Quinn settled on Fig for dinner. Hell, even without starting in Trumansburg, it was one of her go-to spots for a date. And it would be nice to share a meal there with someone she genuinely wanted to spend time with.
When they stepped inside, Amanda glanced over at the bar and, for the briefest of moments, paused. Quinn flashed back to seeing her there. She’d been at the bar alone and hadn’t stayed long. Had she been stood up that night? By whom? Not that it was any of her business, but she had a pang of regret for possibly stirring it up. “You okay?”
Amanda’s face went from something resembling irritation to realization she’d been caught to bright smile in about half a second. “Of course.”
Quinn respected her ability to do so but wished there wasn’t a need. Whether it had to do with wishing away the bad memory or wishing Amanda was more relaxed with her, she couldn’t be sure. Either way, it wasn’t her place to pry. At least not yet. “All right.”
She gave her name to the hostess and they were seated. Fortunately, it wasn’t the same table she’d shared with…with? Lisa. It had to be a bad sign she couldn’t even remember all their names at this point.
They settled on a bottle of wine and a couple of plates to share. As always, the service was efficient and unobtrusive. The food—an arugula salad with strawberries and bleu cheese, a zucchini and pine nut flatbread, and gnocchi with garlic scape pesto—was outstanding. Drew Davis, the chef, made a round of the dining room and stopped by their table. It was the kind of pe
rsonal touch she appreciated.
It all paled in comparison to the conversation, though. Amanda was smart and funny and almost ridiculously easy to talk to. She didn’t expect any different based on her time with Amanda thus far, but she’d developed such a reticence about dating, she half expected things to turn awkward before dessert.
They didn’t, and although Amanda resisted at first, Quinn talked her into sharing dessert. “I know you’re a snob when it comes to dessert, so thank you for making an exception.”
“I am, but the pastry chef here never disappoints.”
“Ah, so you were resisting on principle.” It felt like perhaps they were talking about more than dessert.
“Maybe.”
“I respect that.” She did, too. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad you can be persuaded sometimes.”
Amanda’s smile was slow. “Sometimes.”
On the walk from the restaurant to her car, she gave in to the urge to take Amanda’s hand. Not too forward. Familiar. And it was nice to have the urge again. Just like the urge to kiss her.
From the moment she opened the passenger door for Amanda to the moment she pulled into Amanda’s driveway, all Quinn could think about was kissing her. Not whether or not she wanted to. No, the want was coming in pretty loud and clear. The problem was, for as many dates as she’d been on in the last year, she was rusty at this part. She wasn’t the most take-charge person to begin with. Not that she couldn’t take charge when the moment called for it. She just preferred being cautious to screwing up.
But sometimes being too cautious was the screw-up.
“I had a nice time.” Amanda tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“I did, too.” Quinn stood there, feeling as nervous as a teenager and hoping to God it wasn’t evident on her face.
“Does this mean I get to make you dinner again?”
The tiny gift of encouragement did wonders to calm Quinn’s racing mind. Her pulse was another matter, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “I don’t think I’ll ever say no to a meal with you. You cooking it would be an extra layer of awesome.”
Extra layer of awesome? Where the hell did that come from?
Amanda smirked slightly but didn’t seem put off by the cheesiness of the line. “Something tells me you’re easy to impress.”
“Nah. I just know what I like.” Not the best line, but it made up for “extra layer of awesome.” At least a little.
“Good to know.” She nodded. “So…” She trailed off but didn’t make any move to go inside or even unlock the door. Funny how so much could be conveyed with so little sometimes. It provided the exact right amount of encouragement.
She looked from Amanda’s eyes, down to her mouth, and back. Her own version of saying so much with so little. The smirk vanished and Amanda’s lips parted slightly. If the “so” was encouragement, that definitely counted as invitation.
Quinn leaned in, pausing just long enough to give Amanda an out if she wanted it. Instead of backing away, she mirrored the gesture, making the distance between them even smaller. Barely an inch separated their mouths now. The smell of Amanda’s perfume invaded her senses and addled her brain. But even through the haze, the wanting remained. So different from the haphazard brush of lips the last time.
It would be silly to say she’d forgotten what it felt like, but in a way she had. To be reminded, to remember, standing in the porch light with this beautiful and interesting woman, felt a bit like magic.
She pressed her lips to Amanda’s. Softly at first, gently. She wanted to give herself a moment to acclimate as much as she wanted to give that to Amanda. But then Amanda sighed, a sound so soft and so feminine, it sent Quinn’s already racing pulse skittering. And she was done.
She brought a hand to Amanda’s neck, let her fingers slide into Amanda’s hair. It was thick and soft and made her want to wrap herself up in it. Amanda grasped Quinn’s arm, her grip stronger than Quinn would have guessed. The idea of Amanda being stronger than she looked made her smile.
She slid her other hand to the small of Amanda’s back and pulled her closer. Not that there was much space left between them. But the shift brought their entire bodies together. Amanda’s breasts pressing into her made her entire body hum. For someone on the fence about going in for a kiss, she was awfully close to asking for a whole lot more. The realization pierced through the haze in her mind and made her pull back.
Amanda’s eyes fluttered open. “I think we should do that again.”
Quinn merely nodded. The kiss was more purposeful this time, less of a question. And hotter. The slide of Amanda’s tongue against hers cranked up the heat factor tenfold.
It went on and on, making Quinn think vaguely she could—would—happily kiss Amanda for hours. With or without something more. Not that she wasn’t already thinking about more. When they finally stopped, she felt lightheaded and out of breath. She hoped it wasn’t just her. Amanda didn’t let go of her arm—definitely a good sign. She tried to fill her lungs with oxygen, to steady herself. “Wow.”
Amanda smiled. “Yeah.”
“I really hope we can do this again.”
Amanda’s eyes, already dark with desire, danced with humor. “Dinner or making out on my front porch?”
“Both?”
“The best answer.”
“Name the day.”
“Pretty much any day but Saturday.” She shrugged. “Wedding cakes.”
“Right, right.” In her book, the sooner she got to see Amanda again, the better. “How’s Tuesday? We could do early dinner and maybe a movie?”
“Perfect.”
It was her place to leave at this point, but difficult to tear herself away. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Same.” Amanda seemed like she might be on the verge of inviting her in.
Quinn cleared her throat. If Amanda did, she wouldn’t be able to refuse. And as much as she might want it, first date sex was not even remotely her style. “Okay. So, good night.”
She was pretty sure her delivery gave away where her thoughts had been, but that was okay.
Amanda fished keys out of her purse and unlocked her door. “Good night.”
Quinn started toward her car. At the sidewalk, she turned. Just like the first night she’d been there, Amanda hovered in the doorway and offered a parting wave. Quinn returned it and continued on her way, happy Tuesday wasn’t all that far away.
Chapter Fourteen
“You okay?”
Quinn jumped. Arti hovered in her doorway. “Never better. What’s up?”
Arti folded her arms. “I was standing there for like five minutes and not only did you not notice me, you didn’t even move.”
She chuckled. “Daydreaming. You caught me.”
“Something good I hope.”
“Yes, but not work related.” She didn’t want to be asked what brilliance she’d come up with when the entirety of her thoughts involved kissing Amanda.
Arti shifted, lifting both hands defensively. “Hey, I’m not judging. Just checking on you.”
When she and Lesedi broke up, Arti was beyond understanding of Quinn’s sad and distracted state. She hadn’t dropped the ball on anything, but also hadn’t brought her A-game for months. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ever let that happen again. “All good. Promise.”
“Things with Amanda?”
“Yeah.” She’d talked with Arti about seeing Amanda before their first official date. It was a gray area, working with clients on contract. But since the design work was complete and the remaining work consultative, Arti agreed it wouldn’t be a conflict of interest. Well, agreed might be an understatement. There might have been a bit of cheering over Quinn finally wanting to go on a date.
Arti came the rest of the way into her office and plopped in the chair across from her. “Do I get to ask about it?”
The questions made Quinn oddly self-conscious. She and Arti were friends, for sure, but they st
ill worked together. “There’s not much to tell, at least not yet. We went out once and have plans to go out again.”
“But you’ve already had dinner at her house. And you went antiquing.”
She flipped her hand back and forth. “Yes, but dinner was more apology than date. She felt bad about forgetting our appointment.”
Arti shook her head. “She might have felt bad, but women don’t invite you over for dinner if they don’t like you. And they certainly don’t go antiquing.”
She hadn’t allowed herself to believe it at the time, but it didn’t seem so far-fetched now. “Either way, it set the stage for the real date so I’m not about to complain.”
“Of course, of course. But you still haven’t told me about the date itself.”
When push came to shove, Arti proved an easier audience than her sisters. Probably better to practice talking about it before swimming with the sharks.
“What’s wrong? I thought you said it was all good?”
Quinn smiled. “Sorry. I was thinking about the third degree I’m going to get from Kiera about this.”
Arti, who knew both of Quinn’s sisters, laughed. “See? I’m easy.”
“Easy is relative, my friend. All relative.”
Arti waited a beat, then said, “Easy but not letting you off the hook.”
If she asked for privacy, or hinted she genuinely didn’t want to talk about it, Arti would drop it without a second thought or another word. Somehow, that made it easier to confide. “I like her. Like, a lot. And I feel stupid because we’ve only gone on one date, but I swear there’s more chemistry with her than with all the women I’ve been fixed up with, combined.”
Arti offered a shrug and a knowing smile. “That’s the thing with chemistry.”
She seemed to mean it, rather than put it out there like so many throwaway phrases about the slings and arrows of dating. “What? What is the thing, exactly?”
“It’s a beast unto itself. There’s compatibility, how things look on paper. Don’t get me wrong, those things are important. But either there’s spark or there isn’t. Everything else in the universe be damned.”