“Okay.”
“Now I better get down there before my aunt and your parents start imagining all sorts of embarrassing things about what we’re doing up here.”
“Go,” McKenna said with another laugh. “I’ll pick you up after work tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait,” Zoe said. “Sweet dreams, Kenna.”
And then she was gone and McKenna collapsed on the lounge chair, looking up at the stars and grinning like a fool. She loves me. If that wasn’t a good enough reason to work her ass off at U Mass in the fall so she could join Zoe at Harvard the following year, she wasn’t sure what was.
Two more months together sounded like a long time on the night of the fireworks, but in reality, they went by in the blink of an eye. One minute, McKenna and Zoe had the majority of the summer left to enjoy together. The next, they were sitting in her dad’s A5 sipping Cape Burger milkshakes and trying to find the words to say goodbye.
“I can’t believe you go back to Ohio first thing tomorrow morning,” McKenna said, nibbling anxiously on her straw.
Zoe was sitting in the passenger seat, her apron turned back in to Vinny and her last day’s tips bulging out of the pocket of her shorts. She still had the skates, though – she’d had to buy them before she started the job – and McKenna knew she’d be having dreams at night about the way Zoe looked in her suspenders and skates.
“Yeah, me neither,” Zoe said. She had a strawberry shake and McKenna had opted for chocolate, but neither of them were particularly interested in them. “What are you doing tonight? Can we spend our last few hours together?”
McKenna shot her an intrigued look. “What do you have in mind?”
Zoe laughed and smacked her shoulder. “Not that. Well, not only that.”
“Fine,” McKenna said, playfully rolling her eyes. “My family already knows that you’re leaving tomorrow so I’m pretty sure they’re resigned to spending the evening without me – and dealing with my crippling depression for the rest of the week until we go home, too.”
“And after that you’ll just go back to life as usual?” Zoe teased. “You’ve probably had a girlfriend waiting for you in Amherst this whole time, haven’t you?”
“Caught me,” McKenna said. She took a sip of her shake, then asked, “So, what’s still on your Cape Cod bucket list?”
“Hmm…” Zoe thought for a minute, nibbling her lower lip in a pensive way that just so happened to rev McKenna’s engine. When she turned to her and smiled mischievously, McKenna damn near dragged her over the gear shift and into her lap right then and there.
“What?”
“My aunt’s finishing up the basketball camp today,” Zoe said. “We’ll have the house to ourselves at least until the early evening and we never did watch that movie… what was it called?”
“Below Her Mouth?”
Zoe’s eyes slowly dragged down from McKenna’s eyes to her lips, and then down over her chest as she licked her reddened lip. She looked back up at her and said, “Yeah, that’s the one. What do you say?”
“I say what are we still doing here with these dumb milkshakes?” McKenna said, tossing hers into the cupholder between them while she turned on the car.
She was going to cry when she and Zoe had to say goodbye at the end of the night. She already knew she would, even though Zoe would be back in Massachusetts in a week and only two hours away. But for right now, McKenna was happy to have any excuse to keep from thinking about it – especially the one Zoe was offering her.
It's not goodbye, she reminded herself as she pulled out of the Cape Burger parking lot. If anything, it was a new beginning – a new adventure, and even if it wasn’t all fun and games like this summer had been, she loved Zoe… and Zoe loved her.
They’d find a way to make it work – because that’s what you did when you were in love.
Chapter 9
Zoe
One Week Later
Harvard was every bit as ivy-covered, exciting and inspiring as Zoe had been dreaming of all through high school. It was even better to wander the hallowed grounds of the old campus as an incoming freshman than it had been when she’d come for a tour the previous fall.
She came with her parents on move-in day and unloaded three meager suitcases full of everything she’d need for the semester. She met her roommate – another pre-law student who already had her nose in a book – and Zoe went with her parents to the campus bookstore to spend some of her hard-earned summer cash on the textbooks she’d need.
All of it was exactly as she’d always fantasized it would be, except now she realized there was a piece of the puzzle that had always been missing – she’d just never known it before.
McKenna. She should be here too, doing all of this right alongside Zoe instead of commuting to U Mass. Harvard was her dream, too.
Besides, Zoe missed the hell out of her. They’d been texting and video chatting almost constantly since Zoe left the Cape, except for the night she attended a going away party her family threw, and the day McKenna’s family drove home and she had spotty reception for the whole trip. It was great to see McKenna’s face, her adorable constellation of freckles, her gem-colored eyes… but Zoe could tell after a week that it wasn’t going to be enough.
How could she keep this incredible girl’s attention all year when McKenna was bound to be surrounded by interesting new people, even at a college she hoped to only attend for one year? For that matter, how was Zoe going to juggle the near-constant desire to text, call or FaceTime her with the necessity of studying to keep up her grades and maintain her scholarship? Without that, neither of them would be at Harvard.
She’d been mulling all that over for the better part of the week, and she was still slightly distracted when her parents walked back to her new dorm room with her and said their goodbyes.
“She already doesn’t need us,” her mother joked when Zoe barely remembered to return the hug she’d pulled her into.
“Of course I do,” Zoe said. “Sorry – it’s all just so overwhelming.”
“You’ll do fine, mija,” her dad said, ruffling her hair. “Oh – and Tia Renata said to tell you thanks for the company this summer. She sent this along, wanted it to be a surprise.”
He handed Zoe an envelope and she furrowed her brows. “What is it?” Her dad just shrugged, so she tore it open, and then her mouth fell open along with it. “Five hundred dollars?”
Her dad smiled and said, “She told me you didn’t get quite as many hours at the drive-in as you wanted and she couldn’t bear to think of you eating ramen for an entire school year.”
“Wow,” Zoe said, an involuntary grin spreading across her lips.
“You better write her a thank-you note,” her mom said, already launching into nag mode.
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Si, mama, of course I will!”
With another hug and a kiss, her parents left Zoe in her dorm. As soon as the door clicked shut, she felt a surge of homesickness layered on top of the longing she felt over McKenna’s absence. She didn’t think it would be so hard to say goodbye to her parents – or maybe she’d just been too busy being heartbroken over McKenna to dwell on it.
You’ll see them at Thanksgiving break, she reminded herself, then took a deep breath and told herself not to think about it too much. Her new roommate had gone to the library and it just wouldn’t do for her to come back and find Zoe blubbering like a baby.
So she tucked the five-hundred dollars from Renata into her wallet, unpacked her three suitcases – which didn’t take long – and gave her shirt a quick sniff. Between the eleven-hour drive from Toledo and the walk around campus in muggy New England weather, she could use a shower and a fresh outfit.
Zoe gathered up her shower caddy, towel and robe and prepared to jump the first hurdle of dorm life: sharing a bathroom with about thirty other girls. While she walked down the hall, she was still thinking about everything – Renata’s gift, McKenna’s absence, and the homesickness settling in her stomach
like a stone. She was getting overwhelmed with it all and she wasn’t looking where she was going – a bad idea on move-in day, when you never knew what large piece of dorm furniture would be coming around a tight corner.
Zoe pushed open the door to the communal bathroom and ran smack into another freshman girl.
She smelled like expensive perfume and her freckles mapped out a constellation across the bridge of her nose.
Zoe gasped and nearly dropped her shower caddy. “McKenna! What are you doing here?”
McKenna just grinned at her, saying nothing for so long that Zoe started to wonder if she’d lost it and started seeing her girlfriend’s face on other people’s bodies. Was it even her? But then McKenna wrapped her arms around Zoe’s waist and said, “Guess what?”
Zoe’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“I got off the wait list!” McKenna screeched, very nearly deafening Zoe as she jumped up and down with unchecked enthusiasm, and pretty soon, Zoe was jumping with her.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously!”
“I thought it was too late,” Zoe said, still jumping.
“Me too!” McKenna said. Finally, she grabbed Zoe by the hand and stilled them both. “There was a last-minute drop-out. I got the call last week while we were driving home from the Cape and I was so excited, I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, mission accomplished!” Zoe said. “I’m speechless.”
“You have no idea how hard it was to hold that news in all week,” McKenna said, still beaming.
“You’re at Harvard!” Zoe said, throwing her arms around McKenna. “We’re at Harvard!”
They were jumping up and down again when someone new pushed their way into the bathroom, forcing Zoe and McKenna to step aside. She rolled her eyes at them, muttering as she headed for the sink, “Sheesh, some people have no chill.”
That got the two of them laughing, and while they waited for the girl to reapply her lipstick and vacate the restroom, she asked, “So, are you living in this dorm?”
“Yeah,” McKenna said. “Room 208.”
“I’m in 217,” Zoe told her. The other girl left and for the moment, they had the bathroom to themselves. Zoe pushed McKenna up against the wall and planted a hard, enthusiastic kiss on her lips, trying to convey every last bit of yearning she’d felt during their week apart. “I am so happy to see you.”
“Me too,” McKenna said, her hand snaking from Zoe’s waist up to her chest.
Zoe kissed her again, then pulled back and let out a long breath. “If we’re going to be living a few doors down from each other, I think we need some ground rules. My parents will never understand if I lose my scholarship just because I can’t keep my hands off you.”
McKenna gave her a crooked smile. “Okay – I think that’s a good idea. What’s your schedule like this semester?”
They worked out hours for study and hours for play, and it all sounded pretty manageable – much more so than trying to make a long-distance relationship work in the first year of college. Zoe was satisfied by the time they figured it all out, and since they still had the restroom all to themselves, she took McKenna’s hand, leading her toward the shower stall at the end of the row.
“What are you doing?” McKenna asked.
“I came in here to take a shower,” Zoe said. “I thought maybe you could help me soap my back.”
“It’s three o’clock,” McKenna teased. “That’s not play time.”
“Well, I don’t have any homework yet,” Zoe said. “Do you?”
“Yeah,” McKenna said, following Zoe into the shower and closing the stall door behind them. “I need to get caught up on you.”
About Cara Malone
Hi, I'm Cara.
I write lesbian fiction with drama, depth and plenty of heat, including the bestselling Lakeside Hospital medical romance series and Rainbow Award honorable mention The Rules of Love.
My books are for you if you're a fan of contemporary romance, if you love strong women who aren't afraid to also be vulnerable, and if you like a little heat with your love stories.
I also really love to talk to my readers, so don't be shy! You can most often find me on Twitter @caramalonebooks
www.caramalone.com
Tropical Heat
TB Markinson
Chapter 1
Jamie
The bar in the high-end resort at the base of Pico Bonito National Park was busy for a Monday afternoon. Way busier than I had expected when planning this stay for the first day of summer. Who in their right mind, without a damn good reason, came to Honduras in June, knowing the temperatures would be hovering around the triple digits? Only you, Jamie. I rolled my eyes at myself.
The one good part about this time of year was the rainfall in the summer was drastically lower than during the winter months, when the area received a foot of rain or more within a thirty-day period.
I sat in one of the wicker chairs at the end of the covered bar off to the side of the pool, strategically placing my umbrella and sun hat on the only seat to my left to avoid unwanted attention. Not that I didn’t like attention, but I didn’t want just anyone to take notice. Picky, yes. Seeking, perhaps, but I really wasn’t willing to admit that, even to myself. Contrarian and confused—most definitely.
Feeling attractive might help soothe my pain. That didn’t necessarily mean I’d act on being noticed. Could I, though, for the first time in five years? The trip had been planned months ago, and my wife was supposed to be present. But my workaholic spouse had chosen her company after I’d drawn a line in the proverbial sand. I would have thought moving into separate bedrooms would scream, “Get your act together or else!” Clearly, our marriage didn’t mean as much to her as it did to me. No two ways about it. That fucking hurt.
“What can I get you?” A man with a charming Aussie accent, dressed in a tropical shirt, shook a silver cocktail shaker with the passion of a mixologist who took pride in his drinks.
“Good question. I’m feeling like I need something different. Strong but pretty. Got a suggestion?”
He thought for a moment, his eyes wandering to places I didn’t appreciate. Did his ogling irk me simply because he was a man? Was I becoming that lesbian? The down with the patriarchy type? Or was it the smarminess oozing from his pores? He seemed the type of man who preferred to be surrounded by beautiful women in bikinis without expending an iota of energy to dig beneath the surface. From his wandering eye and cocksure stance, I assessed he believed all women were the same aside from their packaging.
“What’s your take on rye whiskey?” he asked.
“Top shelf or don’t bother.”
“A woman with opinions.” He winked while his eyes flicked downward momentarily once again to take in the plunging neckline of my sundress, which clung to the wetness of the front of my swimsuit after I’d done a pitiful number of laps in the pool simply so I could say I exercised and wasn’t letting the collapse of my marriage destroy me.
His unwanted roving eye further inflamed my feminist side. I couldn’t help that the covering accentuated my curves because my bikini top was drenched. Wearing a bikini and revealing sundress had been my choice, dammit, and that didn’t mean I was on the menu for everyone. Especially not for the other sex. Why were men so obvious? Did they actually think it was a compliment? I swiveled in my chair, effectively blocking the view of the bartender, crossing my legs and causing one of my flip-flops to dangle from a foot. Let Crocodile Dundee look as long as I didn’t have to witness it firsthand. Seemed like the perfect compromise.
An older man with a much-younger woman on his arm not-so-slyly ran his eyes up my smooth leg, which had been waxed at an ungodly hour before catching my connecting flight from Boston to Miami. The woman gave her husband, or sugar daddy, some serious side-eye, and he tucked his head into his collar. From the man’s backing down under the woman’s glare, I was willing to bet they were married and the woman would use the experience to her advantage. Judging
by the amount of jewelry on the woman, she got a lot of apologies in the form of sparkling gems.
“Here you go, beautiful.”
I turned around to see the bright red drink in a bell-shaped glass with a lemon-twist garnish that was a work of art. “I love Manhattans.”
“It’s the only drink for a sophisticated sheila like you,” the bartender said with a conceited grin.
Did Crocodile Dundee really just call me a sheila? Did Aussie men still use slang like that? Had the 2020s not arrived in this part of the world? Or was that why this bartender from Down Under was hiding out in a resort that proudly proclaimed it was off the grid, for the most part, for those who wanted a complete detox from tech to relax? It wasn’t like they shook down guests to see if they’d purchased a local SIM card.
“Is that right?” Why was I engaging in this conversation? He clearly wanted my attention, and I wanted someone else’s, who’d stayed behind in Boston.
No, Jamie. You don’t want her attention anymore. You want someone who’ll chase after you, not say, “Sorry, but I can’t go to a place where I can’t check my email and social media on the hour, every hour.”
He leaned on his forearms, speaking with a hushed voice. “Have you seen the other guests? No one else is under fifty, alone, and can fit into that dress.” He ran his hands in the air, suggesting I was blessed with a curvaceous bod.
Usually, I despised guys like him. Arrogant. Horny. And thinking crudeness was a sincere form of flattery. On any other day, I would be giving him a piece of my mind, informing him that women were more than objects to be praised for certain qualities.
Summer Loving Page 14
