“You did what you had to do. No choice was a bad choice.”
“We ate a lot of rice and beans, and my sister got breakfast and lunch at school. That saved our lives. After a couple of years I got more requests to make dresses and suits, and from better and better fabrics. I hope someday…”
Shannon waited for Kesa to sip her beer.
“Someday,” she went on, her eyes soft with a cherished dream, “I will have my own workshop and hire helpers. And pay them better than I got paid.”
“That’s a good dream.” It was exactly the kind of dream Aunt Ryanne had said would only lead to disappointment and despair, but Shannon believed Kesa could do it.
Kesa smiled wistfully, then touched a fingertip to the back of Shannon’s hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Shannon had had no idea what song was playing or if there was even music. She had said yes.
Chapter Ten
Shannon picked another packet of sweetener to fidget with. Anything not to meet Kesa’s gaze again. “This is quite a coincidence.”
“I thought you had moved away.”
“I did. Because of Paz. He needed…space.” She didn’t know what Josie might have told her.
Kesa’s voice was tight and guarded. “I had wanted to say…wanted to say a lot of things.”
“I didn’t let you.” Say you’re sorry, she told herself. But then she would have to explain the inexplicable and what did any of that matter four years later?
“No, you didn’t.” Kesa finally took a bite of her cake, though she didn’t seem to take any pleasure in it. “This is awkward.”
Shannon took a deep breath. “I think we’ll have to adult our way through this. I’d rather the kids didn’t know.”
“Me too,” Kesa said quickly. “There’s no reason for them to. It was just a…”
“Thing.” A wild, crazy, three-day thing that Shannon could easily picture the moment she closed her eyes.
“A thing.” Kesa’s shoulders rose and fell from a long, deep breath. “Josie’s too young. They’re both too young, with too much ahead of them in the next couple of years to get married. Live together, okay, maybe.”
“I don’t disagree. But they are adults.”
“I know. Look, Josie—I love her, but she can be mercurial with her passions. I don’t mean relationships. This is a first. But in general, she gets into new things with a lot of enthusiasm and it fades quickly. I can tell her that, but she won’t hear a word of it.” Kesa frowned at her cake. “We have trouble talking about groceries, let alone important stuff. And there’d be four lives disrupted over something that could fade in a few more weeks.”
Shannon remembered Paz saying Josie’s older sister was a bit of a hard-ass. She saw that side of her now, a tough resilience that put herself between any threat and her nest. That hadn’t been the Kesa she’d met, though they hadn’t gotten to know each other beyond the general outline. They’d been too busy learning unspoken truths and intimate secrets to care about day-to-day reality.
At least she could take off her marshals’ hat for the time being. The reason she thought she might have seen Josie before was her resemblance to Kesa. They shared cheekbones and jawlines, had the same narrow nose with a slight nostril flare, but different eyes. Josie was stockier and solid, while Kesa was all edges that had grown sharper in the last four years. And which could yet feel so yielding and soft.
Stop that, Shannon warned herself.
“I’m afraid,” she finally said. “I’m afraid that if I push him too hard, he’ll stop listening to me. I’m not his guardian even. He needed out of the group home next door. Do you remember from when we…?” At Kesa’s nod she continued, “I was able to convince the right people he was safer with me. We moved.”
“Where to?”
“Portland. We came back because he got into UCLA as a transfer. He had to take two classes over, but UCLA is UCLA. There are more promising internships here as well.”
“Josie getting in was a godsend, with covered tuition. It’s life-changing. No student loans and a degree from that kind of school? I don’t want her to throw it away.” Kesa had finished about half of the cake by now, and her lips had lost their straight, hard line.
Shannon smacked her brain for bringing up memories of those soft, red lips on her body. Kesa clearly remembered their time together—and how it had fizzled. Shannon had tried to forget it. It hadn’t been her finest hour. “I think the two of them are feeling like some kind of magic arrow hit them and that means life will be perfect.”
“And nothing we say will convince them that lust isn’t love.”
Kesa’s words were like a gray fog to Shannon, settling over everything with finality. It was the truth, wasn’t it? Their sensuality had been like a river at flood stage, sweeping away common sense. At first it had been an exhilarating ride, running ahead of the current with nothing but blue sky.
Kesa had cocked her head as if daring Shannon to say otherwise. If Shannon had had any doubts that Kesa remembered all the details of their “thing,” they were gone. Those blue eyes that she’d once fancifully thought the color of a deep lake on a sunny day were as hard as sapphire and a lot colder.
Kesa remembered, all right.
Chapter Eleven
The first night Kesa had had to herself in years and she had been tempted to buy mint chip ice cream and surf TV channels. The impulse to snap up a surprisingly available parking space near Olvera Street had led to an aimless, pleasant hour of window-shopping. She pondered and then shrugged off the boxy new retro ’80s styles aimed at women not old enough to have experienced shoulder pads and leg warmers the first time around. The trend wouldn’t last.
She decided she could afford a beer, which also bought her lively music and a perch on a barstool at one of the open-air eateries. The shade from the bare, thick wisteria vines overhead made Olvera so inviting in autumn, when LA’s sunshine felt like the inside of a microwave to her—crispy and smelling of old, burnt things. Which, she supposed, described her as well.
Ice cream had seemed a better choice when Lingering Annoying Dude had decided she was meat on his menu. But then Shannon had leaned in next to her and the bland evening had quickly turned memorable.
At first she hadn’t known what to make of Shannon. She was tall, but then nearly everyone was tall to her. Her brown eyes were mischievous, and her pale lips curved easily into smiles, at odds with a staid workday suit that said, “Nothing to see here, move along.” Behind all of that was an air of confidence and charm that Kesa found truly alluring. Her ivory skin suggested she would blush easily, while her frank flirtation said she wouldn’t mind—for the right reasons.
Kesa was out of practice at flirting. She was out of practice at dancing. And really out of practice at what might happen later if neither of them got scared. She’d become a de facto parent before she’d ever thought of anyone as a “girlfriend.” She’d become so used to her own company that her ease with Shannon was a welcome surprise. Scary, but in a wonderful kind of way.
Her head tucked perfectly under Shannon’s chin. The slow rhythm and George Harrison’s low voice in “Something” was perfect. The heat of Shannon’s body felt as if it could melt her thin blouse. She wished she were dressed for a date. Though Shannon had said she liked her perfume, she probably smelled like sewing machine oil with notes of pickle and cheeseburger.
Those thoughts hardly registered as Shannon’s hands worked magic on her back. Kesa’s nerves relaxed and her muscles tightened, a contradiction that sent flash and sparkle down her spine. Her hips had never felt so languid while other nearby parts of her were increasing their throb for attention.
A disapproving inner voice demanded an explanation for what she thought she was doing, dancing with a stranger in a bar. Josie got home Sunday afternoon, it pointed out. Life would go back to the way it had been, with no time for continuing anything. There was no time in her life for anything but hustling for work and putting food on the tabl
e. It reminded her that Josie was smart enough for college and she could get scholarships, but that meant application fees, and that meant more clients, more sewing. She’d heard clients talking about hiring consultants to get their kids into the schools of their choice and there was no money—
Shannon kissed her and just like that, with a whisper-sparkle of light across her brain, Kesa’s mind was finally clear. All the worry, distraction, and questioning evaporated in a flash of white, hot heat.
Be right now, she told herself. And melted into Shannon’s arms.
More kisses followed, slow and lingering. Warmth she had never felt before, as if she’d opened the door of a winter room to let in a summer day, gave her hips a mind of their own. They fit well together, like two different fabrics that became interesting, stronger, and more luminous side-by-side. Her hands burned to feel their edges and test their resilience.
Shannon’s little laugh was self-conscious when they finally separated and sat down again. “Octopus’s Garden” wasn’t conducive to making out, Kesa had to admit.
“Would you like another beer?”
“Not really,” Kesa said. All at once the idea that a night with this woman could slip through her fingers made her say, “I’m not ready for the night to end, though.”
“Me neither.” Shannon touched the back of Kesa’s hand with a pale fingertip.
Kesa turned her hand upright, feeling a river of desire as Shannon slowly traced a line across her palm. “So…”
“Okay, I’m going to say it. There was a motel—”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She was grateful not to have to worry about going to a stranger’s house, though her heart told her that Shannon wasn’t a scary ax murderer. She found a smile, feeling very nervous, and followed Shannon out of the bar.
The motel marquee still said “Vacancy” and there were a few parking spaces left. When Kesa turned off the engine and darkness settled on the car, she was aware all at once that she didn’t know how to do this.
Shannon opened the passenger door and the dim light revealed a shy smile. “I’ll get the room.”
“Let me give you some cash.”
“This is my treat. In every way. Oh good lord.” Shannon groaned. “That sounded way cheesy, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kesa agreed. “But I was about to say it.”
Shannon quickly leaned in to kiss her. “It’s like I wished for you from a genie.”
She was gone before Kesa caught her breath, and minutes later, letting Shannon direct her to the room, she was still trying to find something that seemed like calm. Desires she never let herself feel had become screaming demands so insistent that she thought Shannon would hear the now now now throbbing inside her.
This is reckless, a distant voice whispered. Sex with a stranger. A one-night stand. What kind of girl are you?
This kind of girl, she thought. This is the girl I might have been. It was someone she could be, for a few hours at least.
She slowly pulled her silk shell over her head, very aware that Shannon was watching her with lips slightly parted. “Why don’t you turn on the air or the fan?”
“Yes, you’re right. It’s stuffy.” In moments a cooling breeze helped clear Kesa’s head, and she moved behind Shannon, who was still fiddling with the knobs.
Her hands stilled as Kesa reached around to undo the buttons on Shannon’s shirt, then pull it out of her slacks. Shannon didn’t protest as Kesa slipped the garment off her shoulders and tossed it on the chair. The sound Shannon made when Kesa’s small, satin-covered breasts pressed into her bare back made Kesa’s head spin. Her fingers went to the zipper on Shannon’s slacks, deftly flicking open the hook at the top and loosening them enough so they slid down Shannon’s slim hips.
“Is this okay?” She gathered her hair in one hand and brushed it over Shannon’s back.
“God yes. I’ve been wondering what your hair would feel like.” Shannon put her hands on the wall, and Kesa was relieved to see she wasn’t the only one trembling.
Skin to skin. Lips pressed to shoulders. The supple underside of breasts and the soft swell of bellies and hips. Knees bumping as they moved toward the bed tangled in each other’s arms. Kesa surrendered all her caution and spread like a swollen river across the sheets, her fingers wound in Shannon’s hair as she begged please please and shivered at Shannon’s low, easy laugh.
“There?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
She pulled Shannon’s mouth into her with a lust that changed all the light to red and held her there. With so many years of desire and fantasy twined in her body the first was fast.
The radiant heat would have sent Kesa to sleep had Shannon not purred with satisfaction and said, “Let’s do that again, but slower.”
“I might not survive.” Kesa gulped for air. “But what a way to go.”
Shannon nipped at Kesa’s thigh. “I’m trained in CPR and other forms of first aid.”
“Are you going to talk or—”
There was no talking for a while, except needful, short words to heighten the conversation their bodies were having. Frantic kisses and hurried sips of water, intimate laughter and so much skin.
So much skin.
Kesa savored the soft place behind Shannon’s knee, the rough texture of her nipples, and the tender, wet, needy places that responded to her touch as if she were a magician of all sensual delights.
She stirred, in the early morning hours, not sure when they’d fallen asleep. In moments she succumbed to the shelter of Shannon’s arms again. Safe, every part of her had relaxed as if she were floating outside of time, and that had been the rarest sensation of all.
Chapter Twelve
The reappearance of Paz and Josie, with Paz conspicuously holding a hefty textbook, gave Kesa a chance to catch her breath. She couldn’t close her ears to the replay of stifled gasps and heavy, hot words whispered between them that first night. Josie’s excited recounting of Paz dodging traffic to grab the book out of his friend’s car only partially drowned out the graphic visuals in her head.
Paz immediately had a bite of his cake. “You didn’t eat it while I was gone.”
Shannon feigned an arrow to the heart. “You wound me, sir.”
Josie eyed her next bite of tart with an anticipatory gleam. “He says he doesn’t care for lemon sweets, but I went to the restroom last week and when I came back he tried to claim a Redguard appeared out of nowhere and took a huge bite.”
“A Redguard?” Kesa busied herself with sectioning off a bite of her cake with the right ratio of sponge-to-icing.
“Skyrim. I introduced her to it and now she kicks my butt.” Paz wrinkled his nose in response to Josie blowing him a kiss.
They were so obvious about their affection. Kesa supposed it was adorkable, but at the moment it was making her queasy. That, or the audio loop in her head. She glanced at Shannon and found her looking back. Was she remembering how they’d been together? The mutual fire, the wet heat, the moans and short, sharp shouts? The scratch of motel sheets against their backs? Their mutual shudder of pleasure when Kesa had wound her long hair around Shannon’s wrists? Shannon hadn’t challenged the pretense at restraint—had, in fact, relaxed into it with a noise of satisfaction that had made Kesa lightheaded.
It was all too vivid in her memory now. Moments she had tried hard to forget because after them had come foolish words and naive expectations. Then the long, disbelieving fall into heartbreak.
It was hard to breathe.
“So how did you two get on?” Kesa didn’t know what to make of Paz’s expression or the sidelong look he gave Josie.
Shannon frowned at her coffee. “If you mean did we solve anything going forward, the answer is no.”
On more than one level, Kesa thought. Then Josie’s too bright-eyed glance at Paz connected the dots.
This simply, unequivocally, absolutely could not be happening.
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Her gaze met Shannon’s long enough to read bitter amusement before Shannon closed her eyes as if to acknowledge the cosmic jest the universe had just heaped on them.
Well, it wasn’t funny. Not funny in the least. Josie and Paz were too smart for their own good. Did they really think that if they introduced the two lesbians we’d become so distracted we’d forget all about this marriage madness?
It wasn’t going to work, Kesa vowed, even as she realized she was so distracted with Shannon she’d stopped listening.
“So what do you think?” Paz was looking at Shannon expectantly.
“I haven’t come to any conclusions.” Shannon shook her head. “I don’t know how to make you both see that there’s no hurry.”
Josie sent a glare in Kesa’s direction. “You’ve infected her.”
“That’s not fair—”
Shannon cut off Kesa’s angry retort with, “This is about common sense. Which may not seem like it has anything to do with love, but it does. Love’s not a magic wand that solves all the difficulties. Surviving life takes more than that.”
Was Shannon describing four years ago? Kesa had believed in magic until Shannon stopped returning her calls.
She chose her words with all the care she could manage over the anguished twisting of her heart. “Anything worth building takes a blueprint, right? Can you make a timeline with the steps you want to take? You admit you need some support—”
“If we were both women you’d be totally leading the Get Married parade,” Josie snapped.
Kesa told herself to count to ten but only made it to three. “I’d be saying what I’m saying now. Take your time. Why rush? Have fun. Enjoy this.”
“Because it won’t last.” Josie stabbed at the remains of her lemon tart.
Because I Said So Page 8