Chapter X

RJ opened her eyes slowly. They both worked and the left one didn’t even feel nearly as badly swollen this morning. She smiled at Leigh, who was still sound asleep, lying on her stomach with one arm draped off the bed.

Propping herself up on her elbow, the pilot tenderly ran a gentle hand through Leigh’s coarse, fair hair, tucking it behind a pink ear so that she could watch her sleep without anything blocking the lovely view. Leigh looked young and happy while slumbering. Her face, now slack in sleep, contrasted sharply to the woman who even while trying to relax seemed to hold RJ just a little further away than she wanted her to be. RJ sighed, understanding exactly why Leigh was doing it. When this week was over their ‘lives’ would go back to normal … and for both of them that mainly meant being alone.

These past few days had been some of the most interesting RJ had ever experienced, and she would be forever grateful for the time that she and Leigh had been given together. She wished there was more she could do to make the young woman happy, but this wasn’t Glory and there just wasn’t time. A firestorm of resentment built up within her when she realized she only had a few days — time was slipping away like sand between her fingers … I just need to stop feeling sorry for myself and make every moment count. And dammit, I will.

RJ leaned over and gave the smaller woman a tender kiss on the cheek, getting swatted by a grumpy bedmate. She jerked her head back just in time to keep from getting smacked again by her growling companion. Drawing in a deep breath, RJ rolled out of bed, doing her best to ignore the kink her neck had developed in the night. Not surprisingly, being dead was much more conducive to a good night’s sleep. Moving quickly and quietly to the bathroom, she spent a few moments indulging in her morning ritual.

She inspected her eye, wincing at the lurid purple bruise that extended halfway down her cheek. "What’s this?" She spied a small bottle of hand cream on the shelf above the sink. Oh, yeah, this is good. Cool and soothing, the cream caused RJ to sigh happily as she carefully rubbed it into the puffy skin around her eye. "Much better."

Leigh was still asleep when RJ clicked off the light and returned to the bed, sliding beneath the covers with the bottle of lotion still in hand. A light rain was tapping against the window, and the room was still steeped in early morning shadows.

RJ slowly pushed the covers down, exposing Leigh’s bare back. She squeezed a bit of the cream into her hands and rubbed them together, warming it before beginning a gentle massage of Leigh’s shoulders. She kept her touch light, waiting to see how Leigh would react to being awakened this way.

"Now that’s the way I like to wake up," Leigh mumbled sleepily, still not opening her eyes.

RJ breathed an inner sigh of relief. "Well, good." Because it would be one of my favorite ways to wake you up. I’d do it every morning if I could. "Would you like a little more pressure?" RJ subtly dug into Leigh’s muscles with her thumbs.

Leigh moaned. "Don’t you dare change a thing." Her eyes rolled back in her head. "It’s perfect."

A grin lit RJ’s face as she continued to run her hands over soft, warm skin. Leigh’s back was already relaxed from sleep, and her palms and fingers easily pressed into the muscles, drawing frequent, nearly sub-vocal sounds of praise from the trucker. More than once Leigh drifted back to sleep.

RJ chewed her lip as she regarded Leigh, who at this very moment was mumbling happily. "Would you like to go back to sleep?" she whispered. "I can stop if you like." RJ was half teasing. She knew what she wanted to do, but if Leigh was more interested in sleep … well, that would be fine too.

RJ glanced out the window. It was gray and drippy, a perfect day for lounging in bed. Or at least until they both got so antsy they couldn’t stand it. Which, she suspected, would be early afternoon at the soonest. "You know, lass," she squeezed another dollop of lotion into her palm, "It’s not really a nice day out. I could go out and find a market and pick us up a few things and we could just stay in today. Would you like that?" She titled her head in question. "Or did you have plans?"

"I could say I had plans," Leigh admitted, sighing as strong thumbs worked down the length of her spine, finding sensitive spots along the way. "Driving gets me really tense there." What was she asking me? Oh, right. "Considering that this is better than anything I had planned, I’d love to spend the day in bed. With you."

RJ’s eyebrows jumped. "Well, I would hope it’d be with me. Seeing as how I’m the one who’s gonna go out and get everything we need to have a lovely day together while you go back to sleep. How does that sound?"

Leigh mewed her agreement at the idea, gently patted RJ’s leg, and promptly fell back asleep.

With the help of the hotel clerk and a hand-drawn map, RJ found her way to a strip mall not too far from the hotel. It had several interesting stores full of electronic equipment that RJ couldn’t imagine people really needed and a decent-sized grocery store. She liked the fact it was within walking distance. It gave her a chance to stretch her legs, and if she were lucky, she’d get back to Leigh’s suite before it began raining any harder. Her jeans and light sweatshirt were already soaked but oddly she was enjoying every minute of it. While she had gotten used to her physical sensations being slightly dulled, she hadn’t grown blasé about seeing this new and exciting world around her that was the same and yet so different.

The comfortable clothes that she loved and that had driven her mother and teachers to near fits had become common place for woman. Hairstyles were a wild mix, for both sexes and from behind RJ couldn’t tell who was who. The people even looked bigger than in her day. RJ’s five feet eleven inches had made her taller than most of the men and nearly freakishly tall for a woman. Nobody stared at her height in this time … and she walked the streets with a delicious sense of anonymity.

By the time she’d finished her shopping and returned home, she was wet to the bone but in a cheerful mood. It wasn’t until she made it back to the hotel that an actual storm cut loose, sending bolts of jagged lightening through the gray sky.

She fumbled for a moment as she tried to get the ‘key’ to their room from her pocket without dropping anything. What happened to real keys? These flimsy plastic cards don’t work for shit! On the fourth try, a tiny green light appeared on a box above the door handle and her timing was right. RJ breathed a sigh of relief when she could actually open the door. She wondered if all the noise she’d made rattling the door in frustration had sent the people next door calling for the police.

RJ set the wet sacks onto the counter, glad that she’d selected plastic and not paper. Is everything plastic nowadays? She thought of some of the horrible little cars she’d seen up close on her trek to the store and decided that plastic had, indeed, taken over the world.

She peeled off her sweatshirt and padded out of the kitchen to hang them on the metal hooks sticking out of the front door. RJ turned for the kitchen when another loud clap of thunder shook the building. She looked up, annoyed, and sucked a puff of air through her teeth. "You could tone that down a bit, you know." Her hands moved to her hips. "Leigh’s still sleeping."

She waited a moment, listening, as it seemed to move off into the distance. RJ grinned toothily and headed back to the kitchen. "Thank you." It didn’t really matter if the storm had moved along due to her complaint or not. If RJ had learned one thing since dyin’ it was that it never hurt to be polite.

Hair still dripping into her face, she put away the groceries and took twenty minutes to figure out how to start the coffee pot. The one at the diner was a new-fangled model from the 1960s that Mavis had ordered from a catalog when the old one officially died, but this little plastic one was all electronic. Luckily her intellect prevailed. Eventually. Not only did she figure it out, but she was almost certain that she fix it to where it would come on for the next morning while they slept. Truly amazing! The things in the electronic shops were fascinating and not terribly expensive, considering the fantastic technology that made her head spin. But milk was nearly three dollars a gallon and gasoline almost two! This world made no sense.

RJ was in the process of scrambling eggs when she heard the bedroom open and Leigh’s soft footsteps. Leigh pushed open the swinging door to the small kitchen. Judging by her erratic movements, she was obviously still partially asleep. Her eyes were still half closed and her hair was a mess, sticking up in several directions. She was also naked as the day she was born.

To RJ’s eyes, she looked lovely.

Leigh stumbled past RJ, completely oblivious to her presence and opened the door to the fridge. She removed the carton of orange juice that RJ had put in there and took a long drink.

RJ leaned against the counter, watching Leigh in amusement as the swirling action of the eggs got slower and slower. Once Leigh was finished she put the juice back, moved to RJ, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek as she reached around her for a coffee cup in the cupboard.

I guess the lass did notice me after all. "You mean you’re not gonna drink it straight from the pot?" She gestured toward the percolating coffee maker with her spatula.

One eyeball rolled in RJ’s direction and fixed on her spectacular shiner. "Who kicked your ass last night, Irish?"

"I said it was a good punch. I never said it wasn’t a lucky one to boot." She winked her good eye. "Umm … tell me, did someone break in here in the middle of the night and steal your clothes? And isn’t the cold floor making you chilly?"

Leigh’s gaze drifted down her own body, but she couldn’t dredge up even the slightest bit of embarrassment. They’d had sex in a dozen different locations since they’d met. It seemed sort of silly to start worrying about modesty now. Her brow creased. "It appears that you need to be reminded to actually remove your clothes before you take a shower. You’re all wet!"

"Groceries."

"Oh, right," Leigh yawned, remnants of their earlier conversation and a wonderful massage floating back to her. "Does me being naked bother you?"

"Depends on how you define ‘bother.’" The pilot wiggled her eyebrows. She set the skillet off the burner and wrapped long arms around Leigh’s waist. "If you’re thinking it bothers me in a my-goodness-she’s-runnin’-around-naked way, then you’d be wrong. If you think it bothers me in a she’s-naked-and-we’re-wastin’-time-talkin’-about-it-in-the-kitchen sort of way, then you’d be right." Her hands drifted down to the trucker’s backside and she gave a little squeeze, her own body reacting fiercely to Leigh’s presence. "How bad do you need that coffee, Leigh Matthews?" she whispered throatily.

"Bad." Leigh closed her eyes and let her lips brush against RJ’s damp collarbone, feeling the slight shock of cool wetness against her warm skin. "But not that bad."

RJ kissed her soundly, removing the coffee cup from Leigh’s hand and placing it haphazardly on the counter behind her. She lifted the blonde and felt strong legs curl around her as she deepened the kiss, tasting the sweet tang of orange juice and Leigh’s tongue. RJ slowly walked them to the bedroom and stopped at the foot of the bed where Leigh’s legs dropped.

She began peeling off her undershirt. The thin white material had been made see-through by the rain and Leigh growled impatiently at the sight. Reaching out, she tugged at the buttons on RJ’s jeans with slightly trembling hands. "How can I want you so badly already today?" she breathed, popping the last button and quickly working the material over RJ’s hips.

"I dunno, lass." RJ kicked out of her pants and underwear and pushed Leigh back into the cool, tangled sheets as their bodies met and their breasts pressed firmly together. Sweet Jesus. "But I feel the same way."

***

Leigh slowly opened her eyes, surprised to find RJ’s arms and legs intimately wound around her like a snake. This was new. With most women she was already gone by this point, and even with RJ, she woke up firmly on her side of the bed.

Now, however, they were so close together, not in sex, but in mutual comfort and genuine affection that it was hard to tell where RJ began and where she ended. It was what she’d always avoided. And she couldn’t decide which was cause for more alarm: the fact that she immediately loved it so and that she didn’t intend to move a single inch. Or that she knew in her heart this was a very dangerous idea but she couldn’t dredge up an ounce of willpower against it. In the end, her body defied her brain and snuggled a little closer, sighing when she felt RJ’s lips brush across the top of her head. "Hmm … nice." So nice. God, too nice.

"Yes, it is." The pilot pulled Leigh closer, feeling the hot tickle of her breath against her neck. "Is this all right?"

"I … I … I think so," Leigh said quietly, hearing the uncertainty in her own voice.

RJ’s forehead creased and she loosened her hold a little as she cleared her throat. "Can I ask you a question, Leigh?"

Leigh’s body stiffened at the solemn note in RJ’s voice. "You’re not going to propose, are you? I’d hate to turn you down and ruin your morning," she teased feebly.

RJ chuckled and softly kissed her friend on the forehead. "Nah, I wouldn’t do that. My mother would never forgive me for proposing to a woman who’s not Irish or Catholic." Though for you, Leigh, I think I could live with my mother’s wrath. "I was just wondering why you bolted from the truck the other night."

Leigh had been giggling along with RJ, but froze at her last words. "What did you say?" Oh, that’s brilliant. Maybe she’ll think you’re deaf and not just pathetic.

"I was just wondering why you ran away from me the other night in front of that motel in Wyoming." RJ shifted a little so she could have eye contact but still maintaining a gentle hold on Leigh. The blue-eyed gaze that met her own was tinged with fear. You’re not getting out of this, Leigh Matthews. I want an answer.

Leigh swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "You want the truth?"

"That would be nice."

Leigh licked her lips. "Okay. I … Well … I’m not exactly sure why I did it." Liar! Shit.

RJ released Leigh and worked herself free from the woman, a little sick to her stomach and more than a little frustrated. She sat up on the edge of the bed and dropped her head forward, taking a few deep, calming breaths. "If you don’t want to talk about it, just say that! But don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me. I’m Irish; I’m not stupid." The pilot stood and pulled on her underwear and undershirt.

Leigh cursed herself. "RJ, wait." She scrambled off the bed, not bothering with the sheet. "I never said you were stupid."

"Yeah, I know." She looked for her socks for a second and then decided she didn’t need them. "Are you hungry? I can go fix breakfast now."

Guilt warring with resentment, Leigh watched as RJ shrugged into her clothes. I don’t owe you an explanation! Right? "Please, RJ." She stepped forward, grabbing a handful of the tall woman’s cotton undershirt to prevent her from leaving the room. "I’m not hungry and I don’t want breakfast."

The pilot nodded and gently pulled away. "Suit yourself. I’ll go make some fresh coffee then. Seems we could both use it."

Leigh sighed. "I’m not going to beg you to stay and talk to me, RJ. I don’t know what I can say anyway." She turned and stalked back to the bed, yanking up the covers. "Go make coffee." She made an irritated flicking gesture toward the door. "I’m not stopping you."

RJ just shook her head and left the bedroom, muttering, "Women."

Leigh jumped at the sound of the slamming door. "Fine," she mumbled. "I won’t beg you to stay and talk to me." She punched her pillow, moving her head back and forth against it in a vain attempt to get comfortable. "I don’t even want to talk!" She lasted all of three seconds before jumping out of bed and heading for the door.

RJ looked up from the sink where she was refilling the coffee pot. She didn’t say anything to Leigh as she set the pot to brew. She could tell that the blonde woman was mad and she didn’t want to annoy her any further. This was supposed to be a vacation; they were supposed to be having fun. Things weren’t supposed to be getting complicated! "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s forget it and start over. I’ll fix some more eggs," she glanced at the clock, "for lunch. Then we can figure out how we want to spend the rest of the day."

Leigh crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot. God, she hated this emotional shit. She could see RJ wanted an explanation and yet the dark-haired woman was going to make her chase her in order to give it. "I’m not –" Leigh paused. No lies. "Okay, I’m a little upset. But mostly not with you."

RJ watched the dark liquid streaming into the pot, her empty cup in hand. She grinned at the blonde woman standing there in the kitchen naked as a lark and looking like she was going to start spitting nails at any second. "Lass, I really didn’t mean to upset you. I’d just been wondering why you jumped out of the truck the way you did that evening" And holding you so close, I couldn’t stand the thought of you running away from me.

Leigh leaned against the counter. "I left because I was starting to feel … uncomfortable," she said seriously. "I needed some fresh air so I could think."

RJ cocked her head. "Was I making you uncomfortable? And would you like a robe or a blanket or something? I have to admit having your chest out there like that is making concentrating very difficult." She grinned, hoping to lighten the mood a little.

"I don’t want a robe." She plucked RJ’s cup out of her hands and loudly set it on the counter. "It wasn’t entirely you that was making me uncomfortable, it was the situation. And you’re making me insane! You act angry, but smile, then makes jokes about my chest." She crossed her arms over her breasts. "For once I’m not thinking about sex!"

For a moment RJ was speechless.

"Did that answer all your questions?" Without waiting for RJ to respond, Leigh turned on her heel, marched to the fridge, pulled out a Pepsi and cracked the top. She took a long, satisfying drink, looking at RJ over the top of the can. "Are we done?"

RJ nodded. Biting back a grin and trying not to laugh, she let her head sway slightly. "If you say so. You’re so cute when you’re grouchy."

"Argh!" Leigh set her can and ran over to RJ. She held her hands up in front of her neck, shaking them wildly as though she was choking her. "You’re trying to make me go nuts! I just know it." When RJ only winked back, Leigh dropped her hands in exasperation. She picked up the Pepsi can and stomped toward the bathroom, loudly calling out what RJ had only mumbled before. "Women!"

RJ puttered around the kitchen for a bit, hearing the shower go on in the bathroom. Then she remembered the cure for her black eye was in the fridge. She touched the tender skin as she pulled the steak from its wrapping, then rinsed it in the sink and poured herself a cup of coffee. Hopping up on the counter she placed the steak on her swollen eye and began sipping the dark liquid, wishing she’d thought to bring her cigarettes with her.

Leigh emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later. Her shower had been a quick one and she hadn’t bothered to blow-dry her hair. She was wearing a thin pair of gray sweats and a mint green t-shirt that somehow managed to make her eyes look even more sky blue.

RJ jumped off the counter and followed Leigh into the living room. "Feel better?"

"Jesus Christ!" Leigh’s stomach churned queasily when RJ lifted the steak from her eye, leaving a pink, bloody ring around the discolored flesh. "God, RJ, that’s disgusting."

"It’s the perfect cure for a black eye, lass. But I’m guessing from that response you won’t be joining me for steak and eggs for lunch then?"

Leigh shook her head and laughed. "What is this obsession with food? Over the last few days you haven’t had much appetite at all." She gestured toward the steak, now resting comfortably back on RJ’s eye. She sat down on the sofa and curled one leg under her.

"I’m not obsessed with food." RJ went back into the kitchen and re-wrapped the steak, placing it back in the refrigerator. She then washed her hands and her face, before joining Leigh, who was watching the rain through the glass door that led to the balcony. She gave the young woman’s foot a little tickle. "I have much better things to be obsessed with than food."

Leigh feigned surprised. "Feet?" She made a face. "Ewww ... I can barely stand to look at my own feet, much less anyone else’s."

"No," RJ said in exasperation as she tickled her foot again. "Not feet. You. All of you."

"Oh." Leigh’s ego hummed happily. "That’s a plan I can get behind. So –" she paused and jerked her chin at the rainy gloom they were watching from the couch. "What do you want to do today? I know I want to go and see how the body shop is doing on my truck." Those fuckers had better not be ogling Mom as they paint over her.

"Well," RJ began a gentle massage of the foot she still held onto, "actually there is someone here in Seattle I’d like to try and see." Here goes. "It’s the woman who was my grandmother’s co-pilot."

"You’re going to wash that hand before touching me again, right?" Leigh pulled her foot from RJ’s grasp and leaned forward, interested. "She was the one who tried to save your grandmother, right? Wow, she must be pretty old."

RJ looked at her hands. She shrugged and dropped them in her lap. "That’d be the one. She’s probably in her mid-eighties by now. It’s been sixty years since the end of the war." Jesus, Mary and Joseph. It never seemed like that long ago until RJ actually said the words. I can’t even imagine that sweet, red-haired lass, Lucy, that old. Does this mean I’m robbing the cradle with Leigh? "I just hoped maybe she’d be able to tell me something I didn’t know about my grandmother. My mother suggested that I look her up if I was going to be in Seattle. And I need to try and thank her for what she did for me.

"Do you know where she lives? Seattle isn’t a small place."

"She’s in a nursing home. I have the address in my duffel bag. If you don’t want to go, I’ll understand. I could call a cab or something. Lots of folks can think of better ways to spend part of their day than visiting an old woman."

Leigh’s gaze softened. "It’s important to you, right?"

The pilot nodded, trying not to allow the tears that threatened to spill. There was no way she could explain this type of emotion to Leigh, considering she supposedly hadn’t even met the old woman yet. She swallowed hard. "It’s very, Leigh. She’s the last one … who really knew my grandmother, and even though I didn’t know her she’s important to my family."

"Hey." She patted RJ’s leg worriedly, feeling a pang in her guts over the sad look on RJ’s face. "Don’t worry. I’ll take you. We didn’t have any special plans for the day, and if it’s something you want to do," she shrugged, "that’s more than good enough for me."

RJ leaned over and gave Leigh a gentle kiss on the cheek. "Has anyone ever told you how special you are, Leigh Matthews?" If I didn’t know better, I’d say you are my guardian angel.

"Only my junior high school guidance counselor. But that was just because I was tardy for 86 days in a row." Leigh quirked a grin and received a wry one in return. "I believe you have a hand to wash before we go?"

***

"Bait!" The male squirrel’s jaw wobbled loosely from his face.

The female nodded and shrugged. It had to be.

"I don’t want to be bait!" He began to tremble and blurted out in a panic, "Bait is bad! Bait is dangerous! Bait gets eaten! And I just know it would hurt."

"Don’t make me alter my plan and remove the small contingency I’ve incorporated so that you have at least a minute chance of surviving," the female warned reasonably. "All missions have a certain of level of acceptable losses for the greater good."

"Acceptable losses?"

She rolled her eyes. "That would be you, dear."

"Greater good?"

"That would be me."

"But I don’t want to be bait," he whined, digging his little toe into the soil.

"Let me put it this way: one of us has to execute the plan with extreme precision, skill, brains and cunning."

"I could do that part!"

The female simply stared at him until he cracked under her knowing gaze.

"I’m the bait," he sighed.

"Of course you are." She patted his shoulder comfortingly, thinking that she would always remember him. Then for the first time that afternoon she got a good look at his attire. "Why are you wearing that hideous outfit?"

He puffed up his chest. "I’m a warrior! Brave and strong. Ready to fight to save the squirrel I love most!" That would be me.

"Uh huh."

The male was wearing an oak leaf twisted into a ridiculous hat, a dented beer bottle cap serving as a chest plate.

"I’m emulating my favorite warrior I saw on TV. No woman could resist him!"

"The imbecilic moron?" The female’s face twisted in disgust. Humans were such perverse animals.

The male looked aghast. "But kids love him and he’s the cornerstone of all the comedies!"

"I am not having this discussion with you again." The female sat down on a large stick she’d dragged into their nest while the mate went in search of weapons to use in their battle against Flea, the bane of their eternity. He’d excitedly returned with rusty nails, bits of glass, a half-eaten Ho Ho which he refused to share, and an issue of ‘Play Squirrel.’ He’d cried for hours when he discovered that the best parts had already been torn out, confirming once again that they were, in fact, in squirrel hell.

"What did you collect for our attack against the evil one?"

"I didn’t collect anything. I made something. Just as a backup to my brilliant plan."

"What?"

"This!" She reached behind the stick and thrust a large furry thing in her mate’s face.

"Ahhh!!!" he screamed, throwing himself under their bed. "Take it away! Take it away!"

"What? You don’t like my voodoo doll?" She laughed wickedly, stroking her cat-like creation, which was complete with brown fur. She’d wanted black, but her choices had been woefully limited.

"No! I hate it! It’s grotesque." He peeked his head out from under the bed. "But I see you managed to get lots of brown hair to glue onto the doll ... finally decide to shave your upper lip?" He burst out laughing at his own joke, his stubby arms wrapped around his shaking sides.

The female narrowed her eyes. "Yes, dear. That’s exactly what I did." Her gaze flicked to his now bald back and ass, thinking it much improved over normal.

"You know," he paused and scratched an itch on his back that had been bothering him all day. "I had the weirdest dream last night."

***

Patrick and Liam just rolled their eyes as their mother continued to place dishes on the table in what they kindly thought of as a less-than-loving manner. They both looked at their father, who simply shrugged and tried to remain inconspicuous.

The younger Fitzgeralds, ages 8 and 14, watched their mother with slightly wide eyes. She was in a rare temper. And for Katherine Fitzgerald that was saying a lot. Dinner hadn’t even started yet and it was already a quiet affair — always a bad sign in the usually boisterous household.

Finally, Patrick couldn’t stand it any longer. "Mother, you don’t know what the council’s answer is going to be," he commented, reaching for the rolls.

"Tis not a matter for the council," she snapped, giving the red-haired man an annoyed look. "They already said no." She slammed down the gravy boat, biting her tongue when the brown sauce sloshed over the sides and onto her lace tablecloth. "Tis up to a higher power now."

"Katherine, having a fit about it certainly isn’t going to help." Harris’s voice was calm as he tried to clean up a bit of the gravy.

"Harris, tis not a fit I’m throwin’." Katherine sat down, literally wringing her hands. "I’m the one who made the petition today. I’m the one who stood there and said that Ruth Jean deserved this chance. I’m only fretting because I can’t decide what breaks me heart more. The idea of her leaving us for years on end or the idea of her staying when her heart is driving around in a big red truck."

Liam leaned over and placed a serving of vegetables onto his sister Mary’s plate. "Mother, RJ is a big girl. She knew what she was getting into when she went off with Leigh." He nodded to the younger children to eat, which they both began doing with varying degrees of enthusiasm. They were far more interested in finding out if RJ would be leaving Glory.

Katherine tossed her napkin onto the table. "You shut your mouth, Liam! RJ had no idea this would happen when she left. Even now she might not be sure of her feelings for the truck driver. And she certainly didn’t ask to be allowed to leave Glory for another lifetime."

Liam, the oldest of the children, who had died in a crop dusting accident in the late 1960s, always seemed to be the one who clashed with his mother. And he was as accustomed to his lot in the afterlife as he had been in life. "No, you’re right, Mother, she didn’t. You took that crusade upon yourself. How do you know Ruth Jean will even want to leave? Maybe when the week is over it’s her intention to just come home where she belongs."

Katherine looked pointedly over at her husband, Harris, her gaze softening almost imperceptibly. "Tch. I know what I would do and Ruth Jean is ten times as stubborn as I could ever hope to be."

The table burst out laughing.

"What?" Katherine demanded, looking at each face with accusing eyes.

"Mother," Patrick nearly choked on his coffee, "We love you. You know we do. But when it comes to stubborn, you’ve written the book!"

Patrick’s wife, Betsy, rolled her eyes. When would the man learn to shut up?

Katherine reached over and smacked Patrick in the back of head, earning a broad smile from Liam, who was the one who usually got smacked. "You just volunteered to say grace. Get to it, boy. Our dinner is gettin’ cold."

Patrick scowled but began reciting a commonly used blessing.

Under the table Harris reached over and squeezed his wife’s hand. Katherine gratefully squeezed back. This is where she found her strength. She wondered briefly where Ruth Jean found hers.

Chapter XI

Leigh and RJ made their way up the walkway that lead to the reception area of the Golden Link Retirement Center. As the sign proudly stated, it was an ‘assisted’ living facility.

Stepping inside, RJ shook out the umbrella they’d both huddled under on their way from Leigh’s Jeep.

"You think this is the place?" Critical green eyes surveyed their surroundings. It wasn’t nearly as sterile as RJ had feared and was filled with warm-colored furnishings and carpet, cheerful Big Band-era tunes playing softly in the background.

"The address and name match," Leigh commented as she took off her jacket and tucked it under her arm. She began tugging RJ to the receptionist. "Are you sure we shouldn’t have called first?" Leigh said quietly, feeling like she was in a library and would be scolded for being too boisterous. Or for having sex in the bathroom. That was even worse than an overdue book. Unless, of course, it was the actual librarian you were having sex with. Leigh sniggered her to herself.

"No. I’m not sure." RJ’s voice was tight, and she felt Leigh pull her to a stop.

The blonde woman squeezed RJ’s hand reassuringly, surprised to feel a slight chill. "Are you okay?"

"I’m a …" RJ licked her lips nervously, intentionally not looking at the curious receptionist who was watching them both. "I’m a little nervous, I suppose. I’ve never been in one of these aged homes before."

Ah. Now that made sense. Even the nice ones could be a little unsettling, Leigh knew. "I visited my grandpa in a place sort of like this, only it looked a little more like a hospital than an apartment complex." She wrinkled her nose. "It smelled funny."

RJ nodded. "But this place isn’t too bad."

Leigh smiled softly. "No. It’s a very nice place." She allowed RJ a few more minutes to look around before gently prodding her with her elbow. "Ready? That receptionist is about ready to die from curiosity about the two woman standing in the middle of the room and not moving."

RJ shot Leigh a mild look. "I’m ready, lass. You’re coming with me, right?"

"Do you want me to?" Leigh had figured on waiting in the visitor’s lounge, and reading two-year-old copies of People Magazine while RJ met with her granny’s friend.

"I … I want –" RJ abruptly halted her speech and bent down to whisper in Leigh’s ear. "I want you to come, Leigh. If only for a few moments."

Leigh’s heart broke at the abject fear in RJ’s voice. "Of course, I’ll come."

RJ exhaled explosively and bravely headed for the reception desk. "Good." I knew I could count on you, darlin’.

***

"I don’t have her listed as a resident or you as a visitor," the man said politely, rechecking his log one more time to be sure. "What was the resident’s last name again? We have several Lucy’s."

"Slocombe."

"I’m sorry."

"Was that her married name, RJ?" Leigh leaned forward over the desk, trying to get a peek at the ledger.

"No. She was single when … err… I don’t know if she ever married."

The man closed his book. "Can you describe her?"

RJ’s eyes went a little round. She had no idea what Lucy would look like now. "Short." She wrapped her arm around Leigh and pulled her directly in front of the man’s face. "Shorter than her even."

"Hey!" Leigh squawked.

The man laughed and waited for more. When RJ remained silent he said, "Sorry. That doesn’t help me much. This is a retirement community. All our Lucys are short. Anything else?" he prodded carefully.

"When she was young her hair was flaming red and her face was covered with freck– "

"Oh, that Lucy! Lucy Gelland. The one who curses like a sailor when something happens that she doesn’t like."

"Yes!" RJ grinned broadly.

"When her TV blew during the World Series last year I could hear her all the way in the parking lot."

RJ laughed. "That had to be her Lucy Slocombe, who usually lost a full third of her paycheck in fines for cursing over their plane’s radio. "That would be her."

"She’s in room forty-two." He reopened the book, immediately turning to ‘G.’ "In fact, her granddaughter and her three devil children are due for a visit in just a while. I’ll show you to her room and make sure that’s she’s awake."

Leigh blinked in surprise.

"This is a residence for the elderly, not a prison," he assured her knowingly. So many people had the wrong idea about this type of facility. "The only folks who have restrictions on visitors are ones who place them there themselves. And Mrs. Gelland has never done that. So –"

"So, why are we still here?" RJ asked, smiling.

"Good point," the man agreed. "C’mon."

***

"Mrs. Gelland?" The receptionist knocked gently on her door. "Are you up for some visitors?"

"Are they Jehovah Witnesses? If they are, they can just go the hell away. The last thing I need at this point in my life is to be saved. Anyone else can come in. I don’t bite. Especially when I forget to put in my damn teeth. God …" The rest of the sentence trailed off.

Leigh’s hand flew to her mouth where she clamped down on a burst of laughter.

RJ smiled wistfully at the sound of her co-pilot’s voice, which, even though it was a little scratchier than she’d remembered it, was still recognizable after all these years.

"They’re not here to solicit you!" the receptionist called to Lucy. One little mistake six years ago and the residents never let him live it down! He turned to RJ. "You’re not, right?"

"No worries." She patted him on the back. "We’ll take it from here. Thank you."

He nodded and lowered his voice. "Just one thing. Mrs. Gelland suffers from Alzheimer’s disease."

"A disease?" RJ hissed quietly.

"I’m afraid so. It’s not terribly advanced, but she does tend to be a little forgetful at times." His face flushed. "You’ll probably see for yourself and I really shouldn’t have said anything. I mean, I could lose my job and –"

Leigh quickly shook her head. "We didn’t hear anything from you."

He exhaled in relief. "Thanks. I just didn’t want you to be surprised or upset. Some people get that way and well … it can be a little hard on the residents. And Mrs. Gelland isn’t nearly as bad off as some."

"Thank you for warning us," RJ said sincerely. She’s senile is what he’s sayin’. Not that I should be surprised.

"I’m leaving you to your guests, Mrs. Gelland," he said loudly and turned to go.

"Yeah, yeah, go back to your desk, Leo," came the grumpy response from behind the door.

Leo laughed and began walking down the hall.

RJ reached for the door handle. Her hand was shaking so badly that Leigh closed her own over it, steadying it.

"Ready, sweetheart?" The endearment slipped out without Leigh even knowing it as she felt a surge of protectiveness for RJ, who suddenly looked a little pale.

RJ smiled and nodded, turning the handle. Forgive me for all the lying I’m about to do to you, Leigh. It is, sadly, the only way other than not having you with me at all. And right now that’s not an acceptable choice.

Lucy Gelland was sitting in a recliner near the window. She was dressed in a long nightgown covered by a pink terry cloth robe. She appeared to be engrossed in a novel.

Then several things happened at once. Leo, the receptionist, remembered he had RJ and Leigh’s visitors passes still in his hand and he shouted to RJ who was standing in the doorway.

RJ stepped away from the door toward Leo while Leigh walked into the room.

Lucy turned toward the young blonde. "Helen?"

Leigh shifted uncomfortably, looking over her shoulder for RJ who was nowhere in sight. "Sorry. But my name is –"

"I know good and goddamn what your name is, young lady."

"But I’m not –"

"Come and give your great auntie a kiss on the cheek."

Leigh groaned inwardly and inched toward Lucy the way a kid makes a forced march to the principal’s office.

"Jesus, girl! I’ll be dead before you reach me at this rate. March like you’ve got a purpose in life! Move! Move! Move!"

Leigh bolted across the room. She fought the urge to salute Lucy when she stopped in front of her chair. Bending, she reluctantly placed a gentle kiss on Lucy’s cheek, her skin feeling soft, warm and paper-thin. "Hello," she said softly.

"Hello, child. You look a little different than the last time you came to visit. Did you cut your hair?"

Leigh looked into Lucy’s soft brown eyes and realized that she didn’t want to upset or disappoint her. So she dutifully nodded.

Lucy smiled and Leigh smiled back, taking a good look at the woman. Her dark eyes smiled along with her lips and the tiny freckles of Lucy’s youth, though faded from time, still spattered her cheeks. She’s still beautiful.

RJ walked into the room and closed the door gently behind her. Leigh and Lucy both turned their heads toward the sound.

Lucy’s novel clattered to the floor.

"RJ Fi …" Lucy had to swallow and start again. "RJ?"

Leigh quickly moved back to RJ and whispered in her ear, "She think I’m someone else too. Do you look like your grandmother?"

RJ’s heart was thundering in her ears when she whispered back, "The spitting image. But –"

"I don’t think we should upset her, RJ."

RJ nodded and said a small prayer of thanks. She’d wondered if Lucy would recognize her and how exactly she would explain it to Leigh. Things just got a whole lot easier.

RJ quickly squeezed Leigh’s shoulder and moved past her to greet her dear friend. "Hello, Lucy."

Lucy’s round tear-filled eyes grew even wider. "It is you!" Then they narrowed quickly. "Isn’t it?"

"Of course," RJ snorted through her own tears. "I look just the same and you look older than Methuselah and twice as wrinkled." She winced inwardly at what Leigh would think of the seemingly rude words, but got the reaction from Lucy that she knew you would.

"RJ!" Lucy opened her arms wide and accepted an enthusiastic hug from the pilot.

Leigh shook her head, slightly amazed at the scene before her. You should get an Academy Award for this one, RJ.

"Don’t tell me I’ve finally died and you’re here to take me to hell?" Lucy’s voice didn’t sound the least bit fearful.

RJ laughed and shook her head. She knelt down in front of the big blue recliner that seemed to swallow her friend. "No, lass, you’re alive and kicking, just like always. Besides, and I hate to break this to you, my friend. But hell doesn’t want you. They’re afraid you’ll take over the joint."

Lucy smiled a smile so incredibly wicked that Leigh actually gulped out loud. "I wouldn’t want to take over, RJ. Only have a little fun." She and RJ burst out laughing at what seemed like an old joke. Though Leigh knew that was impossible.

Then, as though Lucy just realized something and despite the fact that she seemed to know it only seconds before, the look on her face shifted to one of abject grief. Fat and hot, tears rolled down her cheeks and she reached out and took RJ’s hand, squeezing it with startling strength. "You died," she said fervently.

RJ’s heart clenched as she slowly nodded.

Leigh moved forward, fascinated by the exchange. She allowed her hands to rest softly on RJ’s shoulders.

RJ sighed silently at the touch that unknowingly comforted her.

"I’ve missed you, Ruth Jean. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you." Lucy’s bottom lip began to quiver. "I tried. I –"

RJ was quick to calm her by gently wiping dry Lucy’s wet cheeks.

Unexpected tears pricked Leigh’s eyes. But she remained silent.

RJ sniffed. "I know. And I know you did everything you could. You kept me from drowning and being lost to the sea forever. The crash was just too much." She paused and wiped her own eyes after she finished with Lucy’s cheeks. Flashes of her crash came rushing back, bold and vivid, and she could almost feel the water trying to reach up and claim her. She swallowed painfully and pushed those thoughts aside. Now was not the time to relive that particular memory. There were others to be talked about in this place that were far sweeter. "I didn’t come here to talk about that. " Her smile was bittersweet. "I came to talk to my co-pilot, and I see you’re just as much trouble as always."

Weakly, Lucy slumped back in her chair. Her eyes flicked to Leigh, and a thought crossed her mind. "Why are you here with my niece Helen? If you’re sleeping with her, RJ, I swear I’ll kick your ass. I’ve done it before!" But the hacking cough at the end of her words did make them somewhat less threatening.

RJ snorted. "No, Luce, this isn’t your niece Helen. It’s my very dear friend, Leigh Matthews." She rolled her eyes and nodded before Lucy could even ask. "Yes, if you must know, we’re sleeping together."

Lucy looked at Leigh, who was fidgeting uncomfortably and trying to wrap her mind around the fact that RJ’s grandmother was a lesbian. And one who really slept around to boot. She wondered idly if that were the case how RJ’s mom ever came into being.

The old woman cocked her head to the side and examined Leigh’s face. "You’re not Helen?"

"No, ma’am."

"Why didn’t you just say so? I get confused sometimes, but I’m not deaf!"

"I tried but –"

"Young people and your lame-ass excuses!"

RJ jumped in to tease her beloved copilot. It was one of the simple joys of life that she’d missed most. "She didn’t say anything, you grumpy goat. Because you didn’t give her a damn chance. Just like always."

"Defending her, are you?" Lucy leaned forward and nudged RJ with a bony elbow. "And sweet on her too, I’ll bet. ‘Course, when you’ve slept with the entire Army Nursing Corps, I suppose you’ll eventually get so tired you’ve got no choice but to settle down or succumb to pure exhaustion." She glanced back up at Leigh. "And she’s a pretty one too. Not that I would expect anything less."

Leigh began to choke as she tried to stifle a laugh. By the sounds of things RJ’s grandmother was as big a handful as the tiny Lucy Gelland. She could only imagine the pair they must have made.

"I didn’t sleep with all of them," RJ protested half-heartedly. "Just the ones who wanted a really good time."

It was Lucy’s turn to roll her eyes and snort.

"And Leigh and I aren’t settling down, so don’t be planning the wedding just yet. Leigh doesn’t like me that much. She just wants me for my body." RJ turned her head winked at the trucker. "She rented it for a week or so."

"I take it you got out of hand and she gave that shiner? Damn, I haven’t seen one that sweet in years." Lucy winced at the lurid purple bruise.

Leigh blushed and gave the woman a small, slightly embarrassed nod. "But I swear it was an accident." She found herself also wanting to say that RJ meant more to her than a week of whoring fun. But the surprise words caught in her throat.

Thinking Leigh was upset about the comment about RJ’s eye, Lucy said, "Don’t worry, girl. Ole RJ’s had much worse and recovered nicely. Consider this accidental one a down payment for the next time when she really deserves a bop in the eye."

"Hey!"

Lucy slapped her knee and laughed long and hard. By the time she finished, however, she had something else entirely on her mind. "RJ," Lucy said quietly. "I need to thank you for something and let you in on a tiny secret I’ve been keeping forever."

RJ’s brows knit. "What secret could you possible have from me?" They had told each other everything. Or so she thought.

Lucy drew her fingertips across RJ’s cheeks then reached back and tugged on her auburn hair. "You’re wearing it shorter nowadays."

"That’s the big secret?"

"Impatient as ever." Lucy sighed. "I’ve always been just a little bit in love with you, RJ. Then and every day since then." She shrugged and smiled, her eyes twinkling softly. "Maybe it wasn’t such a big secret after all."

Leigh held her breath, waiting to hear how RJ would answer for her long dead ancestor, already feeling the slight churning of what she fully knew was an irrational jealously.

The tips of RJ’s ears turned red. "Ah, lass, you know I’ve always felt the same way." She smiled gently at Lucy, whose bright grin answered her back. "Though we surely were never meant to be together in that way."

Leigh blinked. This is amazing. RJ’s one hell of an actress. I keep forgetting she’s not really her grandmother.

"No," Lucy intoned seriously. "We weren’t. But it didn’t stop me from loving you just the same."

"And that goes double for me." RJ rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. Just when she felt like she was about to unravel, she felt the gentle squeeze of Leigh’s fingers again, telling her everything okay. She reached up and absently patted one of the small hands. "You needed to come home and marry that flat-footed accountant you were always nattering on about. And by the looks of this room," RJ made a sweeping motion with both hands, indicating the dozens of photographs of happy people, "I’d guess that you did that very thing."

"As usual, RJ, you’d be wrong." Lucy’s voice grew stronger. "No, I didn’t marry Harold and that’s what I have to thank you for." The old woman reached over the stand next to her chair and picked up a small picture in a pewter, heart-shaped frame. She brought it to her lips and kissed it reverently before setting it in her lap and beginning a short tale.

"I don’t know how much you remember about us being fished out of the ocean when our plane went down." Lucy’s face turned a little ashen, but she pressed on. "You weren’t doing so good."

A grim look swept across RJ’s features, but when she noticed how intently Lucy was watching her face, she replaced it with a more mild one, even managing to smile reassuringly. "Go on, lass. It’s all in the past and can’t hurt us now."

Lucy asked Leigh to fetch her Kleenex from the night stand, which the trucker did, waiting patiently while trembling fingers pulled out exactly four tissues to blow her nose. "We were both Medevac’d to the island hospital. Me with a broken knee and foot and you ... well ... you." She sighed in bitter resignation and wiped the corner of her eyes with her Kleenex. Then, unexpectedly, a heart-stopping smile creased her still damp cheeks. "Your doctor was fresh out of his surgical residency and you were his first patient. He was a beautiful blond man from Chicago, my Max. He was gentle and wild and his eyes were bluer than a summer sky, just like your friend’s here." Lucy’s gnarled finger pointed over RJ’s shoulder to Leigh.

"Anyway, after you ... went and croaked! God dammit, RJ. I’m still pissed about that, you know!"

RJ crossed her arms over her chest and barked out, "It’s not like it was on the top of my list of things to do that day, Lucy!"

Leigh wondered if things might turn into an argument until Lucy continued speaking as though the outburst had never even happened.

"After you died, Max and I got so rip-roaring drunk that they locked us up in the stockade, in side-by-side cells. For a week! At first I was worried we’d kill each other. By the time the week was over I was more concerned about getting pregnant." She laughed softly, lost in her own well-savored memories.

RJ’s eyebrows crawled up into her hairline. "You both were in different cells, but you were still worried about getting pregnant?"

"Where there’s a will there’s way, Ruth Jean. As if I have to tell you that."

Leigh burst out laughing.

Lucy gave the young blonde a ghost of a wink. "Anyway, things on the island were crazy and then quiet and I guess they forgot about us there. Can you believe that?" She dropped her tissues into a wastebasket that sat alongside her chair. "We never were really apart after that, at least not in our hearts. He passed on two years and two months ago." She picked up the photo in her lap and proudly showed it to RJ.

It had clearly started as black and white with the color added later. Lucy’s red hair was flaming and her dark eyes fairly danced with merriment. Snuggled up to her cheek was a toothy, tow-headed man with a burr haircut and thin mustache. He was grinning like he’d won the lottery. As far as RJ was concerned, he had. "We have three children, six grandchildren, and eleven great-grandchildren. That’s what I wanted to thank you for. My whole life."

Tears slipped down RJ’s cheeks and she smiled through them, laughing softly as she spoke. She felt a tiny piece of resentment she’d always harbored deep in her heart shrivel up and blow away at Lucy’s words. "Ah, lass, I’m glad some good came out of it then. It sounds as though you have a wonderful life and that’s really what matters most. I always wanted that for you. Max was a lucky fella to have someone like you loving him for so many years."

"Fifty-six years," Lucy clarified, her pride evident. "Fifty-six wonderful years of marriage." She handed the picture back to Leigh, who resettled it on the nightstand next to the bed. Then she looked to RJ and gave another wicked little grin. "You still a hard drinker?"

"Is there any other way?" The pilot nodded.

Lucy gestured with her chin, to the dresser across the room. "Leigh, in the bottom drawer there. There’s a bottle of good Irish whiskey, get it for me, will you?"

It was all Leigh could do to keep from laughing out loud at these two. RJ played her grandmother’s part perfectly and Lucy seemed to come to life as she talked about the old days. Leigh was glad she’d come with RJ. Lucy was nothing short of an endearing character, and the trucker realized that without women like RJ’s grandmother and Lucy she certainly wouldn’t be doing what she did for a living. Some women simply could not be made to fit into a mold and changed things for those who came after them, whether they intended to or not.

Leigh retrieved the bottle and found a couple of glasses, which she handed to RJ.

RJ glanced at the bottle and gave a low, appreciative whistle. "Whoa, lass! This is good stuff. How in the hell did you get this?"

Lucy smirked. "Leo’s a good boy."

RJ cracked the seal on the bottle and drew in a good whiff of the strong liquor. "Hmm, now that’s lovely." She poured a little into the glasses, handing one to Leigh and the other to Lucy. She winked. "I’ll take mine straight from the bottle, if you don’t mind."

"Yup," Lucy raised her glass in toast, "that’s my RJ."

The trio brought their glasses together before throwing back their drinks.

Leigh hissed as it burned a path down her throat.

RJ hummed her pleasure while Lucy licked her lips and shakily set her glass off to the side. She started to offer Lucy another, when the old woman shook her head.

"I’d better not, RJ. My granddaughter is due this afternoon and she’ll have a fit." She rolled her eyes in irritation. "But you and your lady friend can indulge as much as you like. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion and this is the most wonderful surprise."

RJ tipped the bottle toward Leigh, who shook her head. She was driving, after all, and the last thing she need was to get stopped for DUI. The pilot, however, could think of no earthly reason not to indulge. She never could resist the call of a good bottle of Irish whiskey and unrepentantly swallowed down another healthy swig.

"Leigh, has RJ ever bothered to tell you about the time she actually shot down two Jap fighters?"

Leigh smiled at RJ, wondering how she was going to get out of this one. She pasted on her most innocent look. "Why no. RJ somehow failed to mention that to me."

"Well," RJ coughed as her mind raced to find a way to toss the ball back into Lucy’s court. Finally, she shrugged and did her best to look humble. "That’s because I’m so modest, you see."

"Oh, bullshit!" Lucy and Leigh exploded at the same time.

Leigh bit her lip, realizing once again she was supposed to be talking to RJ’s long dead grandmother. Then again, it seemed like the women were an awful lot alike and she privately figured that RJ would probably end up a lot like Lucy. The old woman had a fire in her that was still burning nice and hot despite her years.

"RJ Fitzgerald, you lying sack of –"

"Lucy! Now be nice."

The old woman shook a finger at her friend. "You know as well as I do that you were so proud of yourself for that, you nearly popped the buttons off your uniform." Lucy’s gaze swung to Leigh. "You see, what happened was this, we ran into a couple of Jap fighters while delivering a plane. But that particular plane had a Tucker gunner’s turret complete with a fully loaded antiaircraft gun. So, Lt. Fitzgerald here decided to turn the plane over to me while she slipped down below and shot those Jap planes right out of the air. I could barely believe my eyes! As far as I know, RJ is the only woman in history to have shot down two fighters. ‘Course no one ever gave her the credit she deserved for doing it. Stupid, no good bastards," she grumbled, then slapped her knee. "But damned if she didn’t!"

RJ scratched her cheek and tried not to blush at the story. She looked at Leigh and shrugged.

Leigh smiled indulgently at Lucy, suddenly glad that the old woman had told the story herself and that her RJ hadn’t disappointed her by not knowing the details. My RJ? Oh, boy.

"That reminds me." Lucy brought her hand to her lips, a look of concentration sweeping over her face as she thought. "In the closet there’s a gray metal box. Could one of you get it for me?" She knew she sounded like a lazy old thing. But she figured the last thing RJ needed was to see her limp across the room. Her knee had never healed completely, and it had only gotten worse as she grew older. Some days it was all she could do to get out of bed and make it to her recliner.

Leigh quickly volunteered and was moving toward the closet before RJ could say a word. She found the box on the top shelf and returned to the old woman, setting it gently in her lap.

Lucy opened the box and pulled out an old, faded photograph. She smiled and handed it up to Leigh, who leaned forward to take it. It was of RJ and her copilot in their heyday. They had their arms thrown over each other’s shoulders and were standing in front of one of the bombers they flew, with grins a mile wide.

"That’s us in forty-three, I think."

Leigh glanced down at the photograph. Her jaw dropped. "Holy shit!" Her eyes flicked wildly between RJ and the picture and her jaw dropped a little further. "Bu ... bu … bu …"

RJ snatched the picture from Leigh’s fingertips. She looked it for a long moment before holding it next to her face, "It’s an old photo, lass, but you have to admit it’s a good one." How in the hell am I gonna get out of this one? Please just buy it, Leigh.

The look on Leigh’s face shifted from amazement to something slightly more complicated. Her brow furrowed and for a moment RJ thought she was going to let the cat out of the bag. But soon a small, if slightly confused smile was tugging at Leigh’s lips. When she looked up from the photo she exhaled slowly, finding RJ’s eyes with her own and holding the stare. "Yeah." Her voice softened and her gaze turned fond. "It’s an amazing picture."

Lucy broke the tension between the women with a loud exclamation as she pulled a small velvet box out of the gray metal one. "Here it is." She placed the box in RJ’s hand. "I always wanted to give these to someone, but I wanted to do it in person and … well … it never happened. Now I guess I can just let you have them back — it’s where they belong."

RJ cracked the lid to find her pilot’s wings. That’s when the dam broke and all the emotions that she had tried so hard to hold back began spill over. She sniffed loudly, unable to stop a scattering of tears from rolling down her cheeks. RJ nearly choked on the words when she softly said, "Thank you."

Just then a loud knock shook the door. "Granny! We’re here!"

Lucy’s eyes went a little round. "Good Lord, it’s the devil children. Hide me."

Leigh tugged on RJ’s limp hand until the woman stood. Her friend looked as though she was ready to burst into more tears, and for a second Leigh had a hard time reconciling this person with the cocky-pilot persona she’d seen only moments before.

Leigh bent down and hugged the Lucy, who remained firmly seated in her recliner. "We need to go now, Lucy. It’s been a pleasure meeting you."

RJ pocketed her wings and leaned over, kissing Lucy on the cheek. "God bless you, Lucy."

"Wait." Lucy cupped RJ’s cheeks and confusion colored her words. "You’re not a ghost?"

RJ shot Leigh a anxious look.

Leigh smiled sadly and went to wait in the hall, giving the two women a moment of privacy. How am I going to stall the devil children? I don’t know anything about children. She reached for the whiskey bottle on her way out, only to change her mind at the last second. It wasn’t like she had enough glasses to go around.

RJ turned back to her co-pilot, covering the wrinkled hands with her own. "No, lass. I’m not a ghost." She grinned broadly. "At least not today."

Lucy looked RJ dead in the eye. "I knew it."

"You were always too smart for your own good." RJ hugged her and leaned close so she could whisper directly into Lucy’s ear. "Max will be waiting for you, but there’s no need to hurry. Your family loves you too much for you to leave them anytime soon." She pulled back and winked, not caring when her lower lip began to quiver. "Be good."

***

The female squirrel shook her head in amazement. "I can’t believe you survived!" The twitching of the body was a sure sign.

The male was sprawled out on his belly, his furry face caked with mud. He shook his head to try and dislodge a particular troublesome chunk of dirt from one of his nose holes. "What do you mean survived?" he gasped. "I was already dead before I stupidly agreed to be bait!"

"True," she agreed happily, tossing her head back and laughing in that devil-may-care way that her mate usually loved. It was strongly reminiscent of Miss Piggy. Without hair. Or lipstick. Or pork.

The male sneered.

"But," she continued cheerfully, reaching down and boxing his ears.

"OUCH!"

"You can still feel pain."

He rubbed his ears.

"So it could have been worse. You could have been Flea’s afternoon snack."

"Snack?" The male puffed up his chest indignantly. Unfortunately, the action only caused him to cough and wheeze. "I’m more than a snack, baby, and don’t you forget it," he spouted cockily.

Out of pity, the female remained silent. Her husband’s skinny-ass legs spoke for themselves.

"Did you see me? Did you? Huh? Huh? Did you?" he exploded, suddenly reliving what he was certain would be the second bravest and most triumphant moment of his squirrel afterlife. Someday he just knew he would drink an entire can of beer without belching even once. But for now, he couldn’t have hoped for more!

"I saw." Her eyes misted over. "You were… it was just…"

"Magnificent," he breathed reverently.

The female had to agree. Even though her plan had failed. It had been a valiant effort. And one she would never forget…

"Okay, here’s what you do … Nothing."

"What do you mean, nothing?"

"Nothing," she repeated impatiently. "Flea is going to see you and come after you." She finished tying a long length of twine around her mate’s bushy tail. "You are simply going to lure her."

"Huh?"

"Like cheese in a mousetrap!" She made a face. "Only more stinky."

"Hey!" he snorted. "I’ve been working here."

His protest was ignored. "Anyway, just when Flea is about ready to eat you, I’ll pull you out of the way with this rope. She’ll lunge for you and fall into the pit. And presto –" The female snapped her fingers. Well, she would have snapped them had squirrels been able to do such a thing. Spiteful God!

"Wait. Stop. Backup." He put his hands on his hips. "Why does it have to be ‘just’ before Flea eats me. Why can’t it be a reeeeeeeeally long time before she eats me? Just to be on the safe side."

The female rolled her eyes. "DUH! If I pull you away too early, she won’t lunge for you and fall in the pit."

"But–"

"Cheese is braver than you."

The male gasped. "It is not."

"Is so."

"Is not!"

"Prove it!"

"I will! Let’s go. I’m ready for that cat."

‘Males,’ she snorted inwardly, nearly pitying her intellectually inferior husband. ‘Can’t live with them. But they make great bait. Once.’

The female squirrel put the twine between her teeth and scurried up the tree. She found the perfect branch and looped the twine over it, hiding herself in a handy hollow. When Flea showed up and tried to eat her mate all she had to do was tug and he would be snatched from the jaws of death. So to speak.

Now they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The male looked up. "I’m wishing Flea would come and eat me and put me out of my misery!" he barked, knowing his mate would hear him, even high up in the branches.

A large acorn mysteriously came flying out of the tree and hit him directly between the eyes.

"Ouch." He began to stagger. "Of all the rotten luck."

Just then Flea padded slowly out of the diner. She was a little depressed. RJ was one of her favorite humans, and she found herself surprised to be missing her. ‘Wait, what was that?’ Flea’s golden eyes narrowed as she spied her squirrel friends. Oh, they’d been great fun! She hadn’t indulged her dark side like this in years! She wondered briefly what it would take to import more rodents into Glory for entertainment purposes. Sure, she could always pester the humans … but generally, their dull wits bored her.

Flea blinked. Was that a trap they had laid for her? Her day just kept getting better and better!

"That’s her!" The female hissed to her mate, giving the twine a little jerk just to make sure he was paying attention. She hated how he tended to tune out at the most inopportune times.

The female smiled. She should have put her mate on a leash years – Her joyful thoughts were interrupted by the rapid shaking movement of the rope in her paws. She looked down to see that Flea had her mate’s entire head in her mouth. The cat was shaking him wildly, his bushy tail waving frantically in the breeze. "Oops."

The larger squirrel pulled hard on the string and the male suddenly popped out of Flea’s mouth.

"Ahhhhh!!!" he screamed. Then he went silent. What had Flea had for breakfast? He licked the fur around his mouth. Ummm… liver.

Flea stopped and cocked her head to the side as she stared at the squirrel, who was now hanging about a foot and a half off the ground by his tail. A piñata? How wonderful. She hadn’t been to a fiesta in weeks!

"Higher! Higher!" the male hollered as Flea happily batted him about the head and shoulders, all the while deftly avoiding the branch-covered pit only inches from her paws.

Fearful that her mate wouldn’t last too much longer — it wasn’t like she had another immediate source of bait — the female pulled the string again, this time putting pulling? her mate just out of Flea’s immediate reach.

Flea hissed, unhappy at the temporary interruption in her play and simply jumped up and grabbed onto the squirrel’s body, swinging them both back and forth as the two animals shook and twisted wildly.

The female glanced down. They were both swinging directly over the pit now! If she cut the twine at precisely the right moment. No. That would be too cruel. Too hideous. ‘But your mate is already dead,’ her mind tempted. ‘And remember the time he got you a tiny squirrel vacuum for your anniversary?’ She began to chew her squirrel nails as the anxiety welled up within her. Trying to push the consequences out of her mind, she brought her razor-sharp teeth to the twine, opened her mouth, and –

"Flea!" Mavis called. "What are you doing to that poor animal?"

Flea immediately let go of the male squirrel, dropping down to the ground just in front of the pit. She pointed to herself as if to say, ‘Who me?’

Mavis frowned. "If you want a ride back to Glory then you’d better come on."

Flea was torn. Then again, she could always come back to the diner tomorrow and visit her new friends. It wasn’t like they were going anywhere. Without wasting another second, the cat dashed away from the tree and the squirrels and jumped into Mavis’ waiting truck.

The male whimpered. Most of his body was numb.

The female whimpered. ‘They had been so close! Gently, she lowered her mate to the ground, making sure he cleared the pit. She scrambled down the tree, unable to believe he was still in one piece. Who knew squirrel skin stretched like that?

"I was the best darn bait that ever was," the male said, shaken out of his reverie by the sound of a horn honking in the parking lot in front of the diner.

"You put earthworms and leeches to shame," his wife agreed.

"Damn straight." He stood up and dusted himself off, allowing his mate to untie his tail.

"We need a new plan."

"No shit."

"C’mon. I think better at home."

The male took one step, tripped on the acorn that had hit him in the head earlier and fell backwards into the pit, crashing through the thin branches that covered it.

The female’s beady black eyes widened as her mate plunged over the edge and she heard a splash. What had her mate put in the pit? She assumed it was full of razor-sharp spikes, or broken glass or something equally horrendous. What could have made a splash? She inched closer to the edge, not wanting to look inside, afraid she’d see her mate’s bleached skeleton. What if he’d filled the pit with acid?

Then she heard a faint. "Mmmmmm." Overcome with curiosity she peeked inside the hole.

The male squirrel was floating happily in a pool of blue liquid.

"What is that?"

"Wow. This tastes really good." His butt and back stung a little but he ignored it. He took another drink. "It’s almost as good as beer!" I wonder what kind of buzz I could get? And does it have as many calories? A squirrel’s got to eat!

"Ahem."

Lazily, he looked up. "It’s antifreeze."

"Antifreeze?"

"Yeah. I’ve always heard it kills cats."

The female exhaled wearily as the male took another sip. "And just how do you think it kills cats, dear?"

The male swallowed his next drink loudly, gargling it a little as he did the backstroke. He looked up again, blue liquid oozing from the corners of his mouth. "Huh? I dunno." Suddenly he gasped, grabbed for his throat, and fell face down in the pool.

"Huh." She scratched and flicked a tiny flea from her fur. "I wonder if he’ll ever figure it out."

***

From the kitchen, Leigh watched RJ sit down on the couch. The tall woman was looking at the pilot's wings and wiping silent tears from her cheeks. Nononnnonnonononononono! Please don’t let her cry. I can’t handle crying women. Her mind raced for a way out. I could run out and buy Kleenex and by the time I came back she’d be done crying. Leigh heard another sniff and her heart sank. She wouldn’t do that. Again. The last time she’d ran out on a crying woman, the evil bitch had smashed the motel television set to bits and disappeared into the night, leaving Leigh with the bill.

But even though she didn’t want to go into the living room, she felt the urge, no, the demand, her heart was making on her to comfort RJ. For that one moment, however, her brain was still in charge of her. And Leigh’s brain told her to stay in the kitchen and fix them tequila. And to make them doubles. And to drink a shot right from the bottle.

Her eyes, however, seemed to be ruled by her heart and her gaze was drawn once again to the profoundly sad look on her friend’s face. Shit. Leigh had no choice. Her muscles allied with her heart, and the resulting coup caused her to walk out of the kitchen and kneel down in front of RJ.

The blonde let her hand slowly move up RJ’s leg then up her arm until it found her cheek. She tenderly caressed damp skin with her thumb. "Hey," she whispered, ducking her head, trying to get force eye contact with her friend. "You okay?"

RJ tried to smile, and gave a little nod. "Yeah, I’m fine." She held up her wings for Leigh to see. "Impressive, aren’t they?" She was thinking of the proud men and woman who wore them — their names were jumbled but their faces were bright clear, forever young.

"They are." Leigh’s eyes never left RJ’s face. She wanted to make RJ feel better but didn’t have the slightest clue as to how. "It was nice of Lucy to give you those," she began nervously. Why had this visit effected RJ so? Ultimately, it wasn’t sad at all. Lucy was alive and seemingly well, and they’d both heard several tales about RJ’s grandmother, which was the point, after all.

"I’m sorry about letting this get to me. I didn’t mean for this to ruin our day. I’m not sure why –"

Leigh pressed her fingers to RJ’s lips. "S’okay. We all have things that affect us in ways we don’t expect." Like the way you affect me, for instance. "But … um …" She licked her lips nervously. "You will be all right, right?"

RJ smiled and kissed Leigh’s fingers. Then she reached out and brushed her own fingers through the smaller woman’s thick hair. Feeling Leigh lean into her touch, she brought up her other hand and placed it on the other side of Leigh’s head, pulling her closer. "I never expected this, Leigh Matthews," she whispered, staring intently into the trucker’s eyes. Both women were surprised by the words, and RJ leaned forward and gently brushed her lips against Leigh’s, sighing at their softness. I never expected you to be like this.

Slightly startled by the outpouring of emotion in RJ’s simple kiss, Leigh pulled back a little. "That’s," she paused and gathered her thoughts. "That’s a good thing though, isn’t it?"

A brilliant smile was her answer. Then RJ yawned.

"C’mon." Leigh stood up and offered her hand to RJ. "Let’s go to bed."

"It’s only –"

"Who cares what time it is? I can see you’re exhausted."

RJ let out a grumpy breath. She was exhausted. The mental drain of seeing Lucy had been more than she bargained for, though a big part of her knew she simply wasn’t adjusted to being alive again and to the seemingly endless demands of her body.

Leigh led RJ into the bedroom. Not bothering with the light, she quietly stripped her companion out of her clothes, making a special effort to keep her hands to herself. RJ was exhausted and although Leigh suspected that with even the slightest of overtures she could have her, it somehow didn’t seem right this time.

RJ lifted her eyebrows when the last of her clothes hit the floor. "You’re comin’ too, right?"

"Uhhh …" Leigh heard the slight pleading in RJ’s voice. "Sure," she heard herself say.

RJ slipped into bed, her eyes drooping before Leigh could even crawl beneath the covers.

The blonde lay facing, RJ, feeling awkward as she gazed into heavy green eyes. Leigh blinked. I’ve never done this before. Well, not since elementary school … and she didn’t really think you could count the time when she was seven years old. There’s always been sex.

"Aren’t you tired?" RJ yawned, fighting hard to stay awake. "I can get up. You must be –" the mumbled words drifted off as RJ’s eyes slid shut.

Leigh rolled over and stared out the window into the just darkening sky.

***

She opened her eyes, not knowing how much time had passed. The room was draped in shadows when, over her shoulder, she heard a whispered voice, hoarse with sleep, float through the stillness.

"I love you, Leigh Matthews."

RJ’s warm breath tickled Leigh’s neck, but she remained still, wondering when she forgot how to breathe.

"God, forgive me, but I do." RJ exhaled wearily and Leigh could easily visualize the worried, pensive look that held her face for just a second before dropping away.

Leigh’s heart started beating again.

Chapter XII

Leigh rolled over in RJ’s warm embrace, allowing her eyes to sweep over her lover’s face. She looked different, Leigh decided, when she was asleep. Those beautiful, alert emerald eyes always seemed so at odds with RJ’s easy-going personality. Their gaze flicking impatiently from thing to thing, taking in the world as though she was seeing it for the first time. So pretty. The look on Leigh’s face softened further. So young even though you sometimes act like a weird old soul.

RJ threw her arm across her companion’s waist, shifting a little and pulling her closer. She sighed happily, comforted, even in sleep, by Leigh’s solid presence.

They couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. The room was still cast in deep, silvery shadows, the scent of warm skin and fresh sheets hanging heavily in the air.

RJ’s breathing was slow and steady and Leigh could see the faint movement of her eyes, under closed lids. I wonder what she’s dreaming about.

The corners of RJ’s lips held just the barest hint of a smile.

Leigh reached out to push away a dark tangle of hair that had fallen across RJ’s forehead.

She stopped mid-motion and stared at her hand, which was shaking. Everything about this was so frightening, so foreign; it felt like a fist closing over her heart.

She swallowed hard. C’mon, Leigh, you chickenshit. Stubbornly, she steadied her hand, determined to finish the simple act she’d started and push back that lock of disobedient hair. Once she had, she drew her fingertips lightly over RJ’s face, barely tracing the soft, swollen skin around RJ’s black eye before trailing down her cheek.

The tall woman twitched slightly at the featherlight touch.

Leigh smiled tensely, her brow furrowing. God, what am I doing? I don’t want this, her mind hissed. I don’t want to fall in love with her. I can’t fall in love with anyone and make it work! I won’t. But even as she thought them, Leigh couldn’t make herself believe the words. She had shamelessly lied many times her life. But even when it threatened to turn her world upside down, and several times it had, she tried to never lie to herself. Until this week.

Tonight, even through the haze of her sleep-fogged brain, she’d heard RJ’s sweet words. Felt their quiet whisper against her skin and the corresponding tug on her heart. And in that place between sleep and wakefulness they’d caused only a moment of unease, of raw fear, before she was able to push the words away and allow her eyes to drift shut. But now that she was awake, they seemed all too real. It was too much to handle.

Leigh carefully slid out from under the bedding. Tenderly, she pulled the sheet up over RJ’s shoulders, watching the even rise and fall of her chest for several long moments as she tried desperately to fight off the anxiety welling in her chest. She couldn’t do it. And she moved to the foot of the bed where she retrieved a rumpled blanket that had fallen to the floor.

Her thoughts began to pile on top of each other, filling her head with things she didn’t want, visions she’d never allow herself to have. A panic began to build within her, and she shivered as she wrapped the blanket tightly around herself, barely registering its slight roughness against her naked skin. She fled the room without shutting the door, quickly padding to the balcony, her feet moving faster with every step. When she reached the sliding glass door she threw it open, sucking in a huge lungful of cool night air like a drowning woman just breaking through the surface, her fear so real she could taste it in the back of her throat.

Leigh closed her eyes as she exhaled slowly, letting the chilly wind that rolled in off the sea beat against her, sending her already sleep-tousled hair into further disarray. She stepped all the way outside, ignoring the sudden shock of the cold pavement against her bare feet. She let out a sigh of utter relief; the room inside had started to close in on her. Now she could breathe.

Her gaze turned out toward Puget Sound and the twinkling harbor lights. "It’s just sex," she told herself firmly as she began to pace.

"Okay, so it’s great sex. And fun. More fun than I’ve ever had with anybody else. Even when we’re just shopping or not doing anything at all. But that’s it. There’s nothing more to it. But when she looks at me my knees go weak and I have to keep from swooning like a pathetic teenager. And when she cries, it rips my heart out. Shit. Shit. Shit!" She closed her eyes in frustration. "Okay, so there is a little more than sex."

Leigh continued to babble to herself. "So what if she loves me?" She shrugged ruthlessly, as though that didn’t matter at all. As though she didn’t matter at all. "That happens sometimes. It’s not my fault." Her eyes welled with unexpected tears. "I didn’t encourage it." She swallowed hard, her throat closing.

She swung back around and looked through the darkened hotel suite toward the kitchen. "Dammit! I don’t even have any more glasses to break." Leigh’s tone vacillated wildly between anger and panic. "I’m down to coffee mugs and I hate cleaning up ceramic!" She gave a passing thought to trying dishes but decided her bill this month was already going to be ridiculous. Maybe they won’t notice the dents in the living room wall. Maybe she’ll forget about what she said. Maybe I will. And about how I feel when I’m with her. Argh!

Dejected, Leigh turned back around and leaned against the railing. What am I going to do? What do I want to do? Her mind mocked her with the answer. She wanted to pack her bags and slink out into the night like the skunk that she really was. Jump in her red truck, even if her mother was still plastered naked on its side, and drive east just as fast as those eighteen wheels could take her. But just the thought caused her stomach to drop.

Her hand snaked out from behind the blanket, and she wiped her eyes, the cold spring breeze already drying her cheeks. "Or, I could not run away, march back into the suite and take things one day at a time with RJ. I could have a relationship like a normal person. So what if I’ve never been able to do it before?" Leigh scowled. Everything doesn’t have to be neat and easy. "I could be a real girlfriend." There was a long pause, where all she heard was the sound of her own heart and the whistling of the wind. Her shoulders sagged and her eyes turned downward. "Yeah," she snorted, "like the odds of me not screwing that up aren’t a gazillion to one."

"Screwing what up?"

Leigh whirled around to find RJ standing in the doorway, her body silhouetted by soft moonlight. She was wrapped in a thin sheet and already shivering. "What are you doing out here?" Leigh asked, her voice tight with emotion.

RJ put one hand on her hip and spoke in a motherly tone. "The real question is why are you standing out in this wind? You’re going to catch your death." But despite her words, and without the smallest bit of hesitation, she stepped out onto the porch to join her friend.

"I’m just thinking out loud," Leigh announced quietly, looking down at her toes. "I spend a lot time alone in the truck and unless I want to get on the radio it's just me for company."

A pained expression worked its way onto RJ’s face.

Leigh shrugged. "So, I talk to myself. It’s nothing to worry about. I’m not cracked or anything." Flustered, she peeked up at RJ from behind pale lashes. "It’s not so strange." At least not to me. Her eyes darted away again as she fumbled for a quick change of subject. "Did I wake you? I … ah … I didn’t think I was mumbling that loud."

"You didn’t wake me." It was mostly true. The cool, empty space next to her in bed was what woke her. RJ had discovered over the past few days that she liked having a bedmate; it struck a chord somewhere deep inside her, soothing a place she hadn’t even known existed. At night she was already reaching out for Leigh’s presence. And that was a dangerous thing. But her mind simply refused to go there. Not tonight. Not yet.

"You’re cold?" Leigh announced. Without thought, she opened her blanket, inviting RJ to step forward into its comfort and warmth.

The chilly sheet that was wrapped around RJ tickled the blonde’s chest for just a second before RJ let it fall to the ground and returned Leigh’s tender embrace. Blue eyes fluttered shut as their bodies came together in an explosion of sensation. God, I don’t think I can stop myself with you, RJ. I think it’s too late to even try.

The taller woman sighed and her voice dropped. "Leigh," she growled, loving the feeling of their bodies nestled tightly together. She pressed her face against Leigh’s head, her breath lightly scattering the tousled golden locks resting against her lips. "This is so nice."

Leigh nodded, helpless to do anything but agree. "It is." She leaned forward a little and kissed the lightly freckled skin on RJ's throat, feeling the wildly fluttering pulse against her mouth. "Mmm …" Greedily, Leigh drew in a deep breath, burying her nose in the crook of RJ’s neck. "You smell so damn good." How can I want you this badly? I shouldn’t need you like this. But Leigh pushed away any thought that didn’t revolve around the here and now, wanting to drown in the sensation of RJ melting in her arms. Of holding and being held, needing and being needed.

RJ sucked in a quick breath at the feeling of soft lips against her cool skin. She reached up and threaded her fingers in Leigh’s thick golden hair, tilting the smaller woman’s head way back, bracing her with her other arm. She peered into Leigh’s eyes and saw her own rising passion mirrored back at her.

The world around them began to fade away.

RJ ducked her head and their lips meet in a deep, languid kiss that stole her breath away.

Leigh groaned softly as she felt her position adjusted by RJ so that she was leaning against the balcony railing. She was still holding the blanket around herself and her lover, her breasts nestled firmly beneath RJ’s. Their lips barely separated. "Do you want this?" For a moment Leigh wasn’t sure whether she asked the question out loud or merely thought the words or whether she meant much more than necking on the balcony.

The taller woman’s hands slid down Leigh’s back to capture firm buttocks. She drew their bodies closer together and her lips slid to Leigh’s ear where she gently traced its wind-chilled edge with her tongue. Fire raced through her veins as the weight of her own arousal came crashing on her. "Yes," she whispered harshly, drawing the delicate earlobe into her mouth and sucking, earning a tiny gasp. Dropping her head further, she indulged in her lover’s tender throat, unable to stop her teeth from closing gently around a sensitive fold of skin. "Yes, I want this."

Leigh moaned, very aware of the increasing moisture between her legs and the firm nipples that slid lightly across her chest every time RJ took a breath. Her skin tingled in the wake of RJ’s touch and her heart began beating faster. She wanted to bring RJ’s lips back to hers, but she couldn’t move her hands without exposing RJ’s naked body to the cold night air. It took her several seconds of mounting frustration before she realized she could simply ask. Her tongue appeared and moistened her lips. "Kiss me on the mouth, RJ."

RJ’s head snapped up and she crushed her mouth against Leigh’s, responding instantly to the desire and desperation in the plea. Hot and wet, their tongues swirled around each other, warring for dominance in a demanding, primal kiss.

Panting, RJ sank to her knees, allowing them to rest on the sheet still pooled beneath her. There was a shifting of movement and shadows before her world went black and she was completely engulfed by the blanket as Leigh’s arms moved with her, covering her, though she was far from cold. The fragrance of Leigh’s skin and sweat and arousal was stronger here, and she moaned as it washed over her senses. "Leigh," she breathed thickly. She had been so wrong before, for all these years.

This was heaven.

She kissed the soft underside of a breast, barely touching the skin, its salty dampness sending a flood of heated blood low in her belly. Nipping and licking she drew a stream of incomprehensible sounds from Leigh’s throat.

Leigh closed her eyes as the sensation sent a shot of pure, pulsing desire to her groin. She felt as though she was being devoured. When lips closed around her nipple and bit softly, giving it a firm tug, she groaned loudly, and eyes dilated by arousal snapped wide. "God, yes," she hissed, giving in to the urge to pull RJ’s head closer, feeling silky, thick hair tangle with her fingers as she tried to maintain her grip on the blanket. She was already feeling the first stirrings of climax and they had barely begun. What is she doing to me?

Deciding she would die if she had to go another second without touching RJ, Leigh grasped the ends of the blanket in one hand. Its edges were barely hanging on her shoulders as she raked her fingers through RJ’s silken tresses, caressing her scalp.

The gentle movement caused RJ to stop what she was doing and look up just as Leigh lowered the blanket, dropping it from her shoulders to her biceps and shifting so that RJ’s head was once again exposed to the night’s breeze. Their gazes locked and Leigh could read every emotion on RJ’s startlingly open face, every thought and desire. It was love, staring unflinchingly up at her, begging her to respond in kind and tugging at her spirit. Leigh’s heart clenched painfully and she found herself helpless under its spell. Her spell. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words would come. She blinked and was suddenly looking at RJ through a haze of shimmering tears.

Leigh gently cupped RJ’s chin and, with a tiny tug, sent her rising to her feet. The blanket nearly slipped from her grasp, but she caught it just as they moved back into a loose embrace.

"What?" RJ whispered.

Leigh shook her head, unable to answer. She looked away.

RJ frowned a little and drew a single finger up between Leigh’s breasts, along the side of her throat, and behind her earlobe where she paused and gave it a gentle tug. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked raggedly, consciously tamping down the excitement that was making her body hum and her heart thunder. "Because I will, lass." A tiny but serious smile worked its way across her face. "But I’d rather you let me have you completely."

There was a white flash of teeth as a smile edged with affection, desire and a raw want made Leigh gasp with fear and need. She felt the low-husked words rumble right through her, and she managed her own tiny smile in return, wondering if the soul-deep fear she felt shone clearly in her eyes. She swallowed and let herself fall a little further and impossibly deeper.

RJ’s warm palm cupped the side of her face and her thumb slid lightly over her cheekbone in a gentle, affectionate move that stole Leigh’s very heart.

The blonde woman abandoned herself to the touch and to RJ, offering herself up completely in every way she had to give. It was time. "I don’t want you to stop. I don’t want to stop," she said heavily as her blue eyes slid shut and she surged upward to capture RJ’s lips in a wet, hungry kiss.

RJ growled deep in her chest, reacting unconsciously to Leigh’s surrendering of her heart and body. Their kisses went from fiery to frantic as their excitement reached a fever pitch and the blanket fell away from RJ’s back. They surged together, groping and needy. This time when RJ dropped to her knees she didn’t stop her progression down Leigh’s body until her nose, then tongue were brushing through damp, fragrant curls. She groaned loudly and her hands convulsively clenched Leigh’s hips, roughly pulling her closer.

"Jesus!" Leigh threw her head back and wide eyes gazed unseeing into a million bright stars. Her thighs began to tremble and the blanket fell away from both their bodies, though it remained clenched in one fist. Cool air swept across hot skin, heightening every sensation. Leigh was truly surprised when steam didn’t rise from their bodies. Another surge of RJ’s tongue and her knees nearly gave out.

RJ lifted one of Leigh’s legs over her shoulder and pushed her back harder against the balcony railing as she supported most of her weight. She gave in to her every impulse to possess and consume and love completely as she feasted on Leigh. She had been wrong before.

This was heaven.

"God," Leigh hissed as her painfully coiled body released with so much force she was completely swept away. Her drawn out, rapturous climax was howled into the cool spring night.

RJ carefully lowered Leigh’s leg from her shoulder, making sure her arms were still wrapped tightly around the blonde, who was already swaying.

Leigh had just enough presence of mind to weakly swing the blanket around RJ’s shoulders. She still felt like she was on fire and didn’t even spare a thought for covering herself.

The auburn-haired woman rested her cheek against Leigh’s heaving chest. She tilted her head upward when she thought she heard Leigh say her name.

Leigh’s jaw worked, but she couldn’t make the words come. They had time. Later, her mind whispered. There’ll be time later. She let out a shuddering breath. "Never mind."

***

The clerk at the front desk of the Piedmont Suites Hotel hung up the phone and scratched his jaw, a puzzled look putting a deep crease in his forehead.

The night manager poked his head out of his office and, yawning, addressed the young man. "Another phone call?" They’d never had so many calls in the middle of the night.

"Yeah, it’s weird. Half the rooms on the eighth floor, but only on the side with balconies facing the Puget Sound, just extended their stay for the rest of the week. One man started crying when I told him we’d already booked his room to someone else for tomorrow night."

***

Continued (Conclusion)

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