by Erin Wade
“Just being here with you like this—preparing for Thanksgiving, being together and sharing our thoughts and ideas—is stimulating in more ways than one.”
Regan trailed her fingers up and down Brandy’s inner thigh. The blonde moaned loudly. “That’s just one of the stimulations I’m talking about.”
“I think it’s time you acted on it.” Regan closed her iPad, let it slide to the floor, and turned over to face Brandy. Their kisses were soft and gentle as they fanned the flames that had flickered during the reading of the manuscript. “I’m afraid I’m falling deeper in love with you, Grace Brandywine. So afraid.”
“You have nothing to fear from me, Regan. I would rather die than hurt you. I promise I’ll be worthy of everything you have to offer.”
“Are you going to take what I’m offering you right now?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am.” Brandy giggled as she pulled the brunette to her. “Good Lord, you’re an armful of woman. Have I told you how much I love your breasts?”
“Uh-huh, you’ve made that utterly clear.”
“Did you just do a little play on words, Professor?” Brandy murmured as she pulled Regan’s sweater over her head.
“Maybe.” Regan’s deep, sultry chuckle filled Brandy with an unquenchable desire.
Chapter 26
The sound of running water woke Regan. She floated in and out of sleep as she listened to Brandy singing in the shower. The sound of the hairdryer prompted her to join the blonde in the en suite bathroom.
“You have no clothes on,” Brandy said breathlessly.
“I believe you left them somewhere between the sofa and the bed.” Regan smirked as she turned on the shower.
Brandy leaned down and kissed her sweetly. “Thank you for last night.”
“My pleasure.” Regan’s voice sent tremors through Brandy as she pulled the brunette into her arms.
“Don’t even think about getting me back into bed,” Regan chided. “I don’t want to be there when our guests arrive.”
“Later.” Brandy raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“I can’t wait,” Regan said, laughing as she stepped into the steaming shower.
##
Joey arrived carrying Trent in his arms, as Paula juggled the boy’s small travel bag and a dessert called Mississippi Mud Pie.
“Oh my gosh,” Brandy drawled as she took the dish from Paula. “This is my favorite pie. I haven’t had this since . . . in a very long time.”
“It is delicious,” Joey assured her.
“Yes, I can see where you’ve stolen a spoonful.” Brandy hip-bumped him as she placed the pie on the kitchen island.
##
Joey sat on the sofa and removed Trent’s coat and gloves. “It’s colder than a well digger’s . . . uh, a witch’s heart out there.” He beamed as he rumpled the hair of the cutest little boy Regan had ever seen. With his blond hair and green eyes, he looked like a tiny Joey.
Trent shyly looked around the room, clutching Joey’s sweatshirt in his tiny fist and snuggling into the man.
Confident her son was in good hands, Paula turned to Regan. “What can I do to help, Professor?”
“You can begin by calling me Regan. We have everything ready. We’re just waiting for Peyton and her family.”
As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Peyton’s family entered with a gush of cold air. Introductions were made, and everyone crowded around the fireplace as Brandy took their coats and jackets to the extra bedroom.
Joey followed Brandy as Trent trotted along behind him. “Are you sleeping here now?” he whispered.
“Maybe.” Brandy frowned. “How’d you know?”
“Kiki called me two days ago and said you hadn’t been in your dorm room for a couple of weeks. She was worried about you. She thought you were shacked up with me.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I said, ‘I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions.’” Joey snickered.
“That works for me.” Brandy looked down as a tiny hand caught hold of hers.
“Hey, little man, are you doing okay?” Brandy dropped to her knees and hugged the little boy. “Joey, he looks just like you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think . . . .”
Joey scooped up Trent and held him in the air as the little boy squealed with delight. “Higher,” he shrieked.
“If I put you any higher, you’ll stick to the ceiling,” Joey said. “Let’s go see what Mommy’s doing.” He turned to see Paula watching them from the doorway. She was wearing a smile that lit up her face and her eyes.
“Our Thanksgiving feast awaits,” Regan announced as she entered the bedroom. She let the others go ahead and hung back to ask Brandy a question. “Who knows that you’re an FBI agent?”
“Just Joey, Peyton, and now you. We still need to be in deep cover until we apprehend the murderer of Coach Tucker and Robin Chase.”
They returned to the dining room as the doorbell rang. Everyone looked expectantly at the others, wondering who could be disturbing their Thanksgiving.
“That’s my plus-one,” Peyton said, smiling as she rushed to the door. “I’ll get it.”
Everyone went back to talking, playing with Trent, or filling glasses with ice. The group fell silent when Peyton and her guest entered the room.
Regan was the first to find her voice. “Chancellor O’Brien! What a delightful surprise.”
Katherine turned to Peyton. “I shouldn’t have come. I always dampen the spirit of a party.”
“Nonsense.” Regan took her elbow. “Come meet everyone, Chancellor.”
“My friends call me Kate,” Katherine said. “I’ll stay on one condition: everyone must call me Kate.”
“It’s a deal, Kate,” Regan said. She liked the elegant, attractive woman and suspected the chancellor could be fun when she wasn’t busy being the stoic leader of the university.
Peyton took Katherine’s arm. “Why don’t I introduce Kate to everyone while you and Brandy get the last-minute things on the table?”
“That was perfect timing, Kate,” Brandy called from the other side of the kitchen. “I just finished carving the turkey.” She proudly carried it to the dining room table.
Joey whistled softly to get the guests’ attention. “Everyone to the table. The game starts in one hour.”
They took their places at the table, and Peyton’s father said the Thanksgiving prayer before everyone started passing dishes in all directions.
##
After eating, Paula cleared the table as Joey settled into a reclining chair in the TV room. Trent climbed into his lap and was sleeping soundly when the others joined them. “He went out like a light,” Joey whispered, grinning at Paula. “Here, sit beside me.” He motioned to the recliner beside his.
Regan’s TV room boasted two levels of five reclining chairs. With only the huge, wall-mounted TV lighting the room, it was cozy and relaxing. A gas fireplace burned in the corner. The men armchair quarterbacked as the women rooted for their teams in a quieter fashion.
“Why don’t they pull that quarterback?” Kate asked Peyton as they watched the same player pile up one delay-of-game penalty after another.
“The big money is on the other team to win,” Peyton commented. “I suspect the quarterback and offensive line coach are throwing the game.”
“Big money? What do you mean?” Kate frowned.
“Gambling. Betting.” Peyton shrugged. “There are millions bet on college games every weekend.”
“Legally?” Kate scowled, realizing how little she knew about the ugly underbelly of college football.
“Legally in Vegas,” Peyton said. “And through thousands of illegal bookies all over the US.”
“I want to know more about this later,” Kate hissed.
Peyton whispered something in her ear, and she settled down.
Brandy placed her warm lips next to Regan’s ear. “I want them all to leave. I only want to be with you,” she whispered.
Regan caught Brandy’s hand and squeezed it in agreement.
##
The friends cheered for their favorite teams, had heated discussions on referee calls, and devoured all the desserts and leftovers. It was almost nine when Paula pointed out that she needed to get Trent home for a bath and bed.
Regan stood at the door and bid her guests goodbye.
“Aren’t you leaving, dear?” Kate said to Brandy.
“Yes, ma’am,” Brandy assured her. “I’m just going to help Professor Shaw clean up. I’m afraid we have destroyed her kitchen.”
“We’re going to follow you home,” Peyton informed Katherine. “I’ll feel better if I know you’re home safe with the doors locked.”
“It’s really not necessary, Agent King,” Katherine said, restoring their rightful places in the academic world.
Necessary or not, Peyton persisted. “Your safety is my responsibility, Chancellor.”
“If you insist,” Katherine said.
##
Regan closed the door on their last guest. “All I want is a quick shower and a long session with you.” She tiptoed to brush her lips against Brandy’s.
“Resistance is futile,” Brandy said, doing her best robot impersonation. “Your wish is my command, Your Majesty.”
They showered, made love, and snuggled. “Today was fun.” Brandy sighed as Regan rested her head on Brandy’s shoulder. “I like Kate a lot. She has a quick wit, and I love her laugh. She’s really beautiful when she lets her hair down and enters into the banter.”
“It was delightful,” Regan said, “but I suspect it was because I was with you. Everyone else just seemed to fade into the background. As the old song says, ‘I only have eyes for you.’”
Brandy hummed a few lines of the song as she closed her eyes, imploring all her senses to remember every detail about the woman in her arms.
“I wouldn’t make a habit of calling her Kate,” Regan advised. “I suspect the woman we hung out with today has been folded up and put away. Do you think Peyton is dating her?”
Brandy frowned as she thought about it. “I don’t think so. I can’t see Peyton with the Ice Queen. I believe she invited her because she knew the chancellor would be alone on Thanksgiving. She’s a widow, you know?”
“I did read that somewhere,” Regan said. “That’s a shame. There is something very sensuous about her. She’d make someone a good bed partner.”
“The only bed partner I care about is you.” Brandy hugged her closer. “I do love you, Regan.”
“I know, darling, and I love you.”
##
Chief Pat Sawyer sat in her patrol car at the end of the street that harbored Regan Shaw’s home. The gathering of cars in front of her house had caught Pat’s attention when she was making her rounds.
Pat knew each car parked at the gathering. It was her job to know who belonged and who didn’t. The shiny BMW belonged to Joey Sloan. The burnt-orange Jeep Wrangler belonged to Agent Peyton King, and the sleek black Mercedes belonged to Chancellor O’Brien. She didn’t wonder where Brandy’s car was. She knew it had been parked in Shaw’s garage for more than two weeks. She wondered what O’Brien would say if she knew the author/professor was playing house with her student. More power to Shaw, she thought. I wouldn’t mind hitting that myself.
The front door opened, and people began pouring out of the Shaw house. All the people who apparently had nowhere else to go for Thanksgiving were laughing and hugging each other goodbye. I wonder if they even thought of inviting me to their little feast. Pat tried to squelch the bitterness that welled up in her.
A striking blonde caught her eye. Joey walked beside her, carrying a small child. Peyton’s family loaded into her Wrangler as she stopped the blonde and spoke to her.
Pat studied the woman. She looked familiar. It took her a minute to put a name with the face. “Paula Lambert,” she said out loud.
She’s more mature and even more attractive than ever, Pat thought. I wonder why she’s back in Austin. If she’s talking to Peyton, it can’t be good. She contemplated informing Radford but decided to stay out of anything Agent Peyton King was handling. She was just thankful that King was letting her testify against the abusers in the athletic department in exchange for no jail time. She’d throw them all under the bus and walk away scot-free.
Chapter 27
Regan lay quietly listening to Brandy’s soft breathing. She was on her side, facing away from her lover, and Brandy was wrapped around her. It felt safe and warm in Brandy’s arms. She wondered if Brandy would still love her when she was sixty-six and Brandy was fifty-two—or even worse, when Brandy was sixty and she was seventy-four.
Right now their sex drives were equal, but that would diminish with age. She knew she would always love the perky blonde, but at what age would Brandy notice women closer to her own age? At what age would she lose interest in sex while Brandy was in her prime? The way she felt now, she would always want to make love with the blonde goddess sharing her bed. She truly couldn’t imagine a world where she would lose her desire for the young woman.
She knew Brandy was a natural nurturer by the way she had mothered her after Robin Chase had attacked her. I love her too much to condemn her to playing caregiver to me in my old age, Regan thought. I’ll have the time of my life this year and then return to New York and forget about Grace Brandywine.
Brandy mumbled Regan’s name in her sleep and pulled her closer. “I love you so damn much,” Regan whispered into the night.
##
Regan was slipping from their bed when strong fingers wrapped around her wrist. “I told you I don’t like waking in an empty bed.” Brandy’s sleepy, husky voice sent a shiver through Regan.
“I’ll be right back.” Regan leaned down and kissed her. “I want to brush my teeth.”
“I should do that too,” Brandy said. “I’m planning on some quality bed time with you this morning.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Regan giggled as she slipped from Brandy’s grip.
They made love, talked, and made love again. Brandy fell onto her back, taking big gulps of air. “God, I love loving you,” she said, moaning. “You’re like no other woman I’ve ever known.”
“And just how many women have you known, Miss Brandywine?”
“Enough to know that you’re truly someone special, Regan. Someone I’d like to spend the rest of my life with.”
Regan’s noncommittal sigh left Brandy’s suggestion hanging.
“Let’s go out for breakfast,” Brandy grumbled.
“I can cook breakfast for us.”
“No, I need to get some fresh air.” Brandy stood and pulled on her jeans. “Do you see my bra?”
“Even if I do, I won’t tell you,” Regan teased. “I rather like the view as it is right now.”
A smile ghosted Brandy’s lips as she tried to remain upset with the brunette.
“I’ve hurt your feelings,” Regan said. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You just made it pretty clear that you don’t want to spend the rest of your life with me.” Brandy scowled. “I love you, Regan. You’re damn right, you hurt my feelings.”
“I can’t promise you a lifetime.” Regan bowed her head for a second before raising her eyes to meet Brandy’s furious gaze. “But I’d love it if you’d move in with me this year.”
“Give me one year”—Brandy grinned confidently—“and you’ll throw rocks at every other woman out there.”
Regan laughed out loud. “The thing that made me fall in love with you was your cockiness.”
Brandy let her jeans pool around her ankles and slipped back into their bed.
“I thought you were hungry,” Regan whispered as she pulled the blonde on top of her.
“I am, but my appetite just changed. I’m hungry for something else.”
Chapter 28
Peyton studied the crime photos of Paula Lambert. It was clear that she had been beaten and probably raped. She wondered why
Chief Sawyer had dissuaded her from continuing with her complaint against Radford. The Austin police had been willing to accept the case. A hard knock on her office door made Peyton close the folder and slip it into her lap drawer.
“Come in,” she called out as Pat Sawyer pushed the door open and entered the room.
“Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?” Pat’s amicable smile put Peyton at ease.
“I did, and you?”
“Oh, yeah, great,” Pat said. “I worked so more of my men could spend the day with their families. It was quiet. It always is when everyone goes home for a holiday.”
“What can I do for you?” Peyton asked.
“I thought I saw Paula Lambert on campus the other day. Are you questioning her?”
“No, she stopped by to see me,” Peyton said. “She may be able to assist me in my investigation.”
“I’d be careful with that one,” Pat said. “She kinda went crazy after what happened to her.”
Peyton snorted. “I can understand that. She was beaten and raped.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. We didn’t have any proof to back up her claim.”
Peyton stared at Pat until the chief became uneasy and started shuffling from one leg to the other.
“I’ve read the file,” Peyton said, her voice ice-cold. “It looks to me like you were doing your usual cover up. I think you need to address that on the recording you’re making for me. Record the truth, not the lie you were pushing. How’s the recording coming, by the way?”
“I’m almost finished,” Pat growled. “It’s rather therapeutic. Sorta like going to confession.”
“You know what they say—confession is good for the soul.” Peyton stood. “Come on, I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”
“Still, I’d be careful of the Lambert girl,” Pat continued. “She swore she’d get even with Radford and his minions, if it was the last thing she ever did.
“She could be the one behind these murders. Tucker and Robin Chase were there when Radford supposedly raped her, and they swore it never happened.”
“Humph. Who do you truly believe?”
