by Lori L. Lake
Crystal smiled across the humid car, her teeth flashing white in the slanting sunlight. “Works for me,” she said.
Dez spent the better part of her day cooling her heels in court, and she hadn’t testified until mid-afternoon. Despite the book and magazine she brought along, she was bored silly and, now that she was home, she almost wished she were on duty for the night. At least it would give her something to do other than think about all the breads and pastas and potatoes she was missing. Time for some aerobic work. Morning, noon, and night she was walking or biking. If she got her heart rate up to about one-hundred-twenty-five beats a minute for at least forty-fve minutes, she knew she was burning fat off her tall frame. She’d already gone from 175 pounds down to 154 in the last six weeks, and she hoped to be under 150 for the bodybuilding competition. She was glad she only had to work at it for another week—it’d be an incredible relief when the compoetition was over.
She changed into biking shorts and a hot pink sports bra over her regular bra. Flexing and stretching her shoulders and chest muscles, she decided the contusion from the shooting wasn’t hurting much anymore, though she could still see the faint green bruising.
On her way through the kitchen she snagged a quart bottle of water and headed out to the garage. After getting her bike and helmet, she mashed the helmet on her head, pushing down the neat French braid. She mounted the bike and put her feet in the toe clips. Sticking to residential streets she began what she hoped would be a good ninety minutes of riding. It took little time to get good and warm on the back streets as she passed yards of freshly mown grass and young boys playing basketball at driveway hoops.
After she figured the rush hour traffic had slowed down, she ventured out to a busier street, Larpenteur Avenue. Hunched over and dripping sweat in the eighty-degree heat, she pedaled powerfully up a slope toward Rice Street. Glancing to the side, she saw a white vehicle tracking her and recognized a Saint Paul cop car. Darting a glare at the occupants, she found a pair of warm hazel eyes peering out the window at her. She almost fell off the bicycle as her stomach did the funny leaping trick it did lately every time she looked at Jaylynn.
In fact, she’d spent a considerable amount of energy lately trying not to look at Jaylynn and coming to the unavoidable conclusion that she was attracted to her. She’d been attracted to plenty of people in the past, but she’d never had so much trouble controlling her reactions before. She found that worrisome. Of course, she hadn’t been required to ride around with the other objects of her interest in a hot squad car for hours on end. She remembered when Jaylynn told her, last winter, about how much trouble she had riding around lusting after her—a thought that embarrassed Dez to no end. But Jaylynn didn’t appear to have any trouble with that at all anymore. She could look her straight in the eye—with that infectious little smile—and she didn’t seem to have a single issue.
Dez didn’t know what she was going to do about the unwelcome feelings, but right now she decided to wheel to the strip mall up ahead and talk with Jaylynn and whoever was at the wheel. She nodded upon seeing that Crystal was driving. She hadn’t seen much of her lately. Frowning, she slowed in front of the drugstore and stopped the bike with a foot on the curb. It’s August, she thought, and I can’t remember the last time I spent any time with Crystal and Shayna. She felt bad about that and decided she should probably have them over to Luella’s or do something with them soon. She caught her breath as she removed her helmet and hung it on her handlebar.
Her colleagues got out of the car to find a scowling, sweating Dez swigging half a quart of water. Some of the water escaped as she drank and ran along her chin, dripping down her neck. She wiped her face and forehead on a bare arm glistening with sweat. It didn’t help. Jaylynn thought Dez looked overheated and miserable.
“Uh, hi.” Jaylynn looked up at a pair of dark blue eyes which bored right through her and traveled along every nerve ending from her head straight to her groin. She crossed her arms uncertainly and tried not to stare at the bare muscular midsection, the broad shoulders, and the beautifully planed face.
With a grimace Dez nodded. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad,” Crystal said. While Jaylynn hung back, leaning against the front panel of the car, Crystal strode up to Dez and grabbed hold of her forearm. “So, mi amiga, you ready for the show? Let’s see a nice biceps pose.”
Dez stared daggers at her and wrenched her arm away from the laughing cop. She made a fist and flexed her biceps.
“Not bad, chica. Not bad.” Crystal flexed her own arm. “Not quite as good as mine, but hey, who’s counting?”
“Who could tell with that T-shirt and uniform sleeve covering it up?”
“Trust me, it’s there. A mountain of strength.”
“Yeah, right.” Dez took another swig of her water. “Anything exciting going down tonight?”
Jaylynn and Crystal shook their heads simultaneously, and Jaylynn said, “You’re not missing a thing—though maybe it’ll pick up when the sun goes down.”
Dez looked around. “I better get going before that happens.” She tucked her water bottle away, pushed off the curb and strolled past the police car. “See ya.”
Jaylynn gazed after her, watching the incredibly long legs and the lean hips. She’d never seen anyone look so luscious in biking shorts, thighs rippling with muscle and sinew. Nice buns, she thought. Really nice everything. Jaylynn hoped if she fainted right now, Crystal wouldn’t figure out it was because of excess lust. She let out a soft sigh and gulped in some air as she got back in the stuffy car.
Crystal slammed her own door and started the engine. “See what I mean? She’s got no sense of humor at all right now. She looked like she wanted to hit me.”
“She would never do that.”
“Who knows what goes on in that dense head of hers.”
Yes, who knows? Jaylynn thought. I surely don’t.
Saturday night, Crystal and Dez left the locker room for roll call at the same time. Cautiously Crystal asked, “Hey, Dez, what’s up?”
“Nothing much.”
“We’re going bowling tonight after shift. Want to come?”
“Nah, I’m a terrible bowler.”
Crystal snorted out a loud laugh. “Who isn’t? Geez, that’s the point, Reilly. We have a hilarious time. You ought to come. I tell ya, my abs usually hurt for three days afterwards from laughing.”
“You ought to work ’em a little harder in the gym. You’d have more fortitude that way.”
Crystal stopped, put her hands on her hips, and gave Dez her best dirty look. “Very funny. Too bad yours are in such good shape that a little laughter isn’t necessary.”
“Aw, come on,” Dez said. She considered for a moment. What could it hurt? “Who’s coming?”
“Me and Shayna, Merilee, Jay, and the other new rookie, Marshall—I think her first name is Paula. If you join in, we’ll have six and we can use two lanes. That’s even more fun.”
“Shayna’s coming? Hmmph. All right,” Dez said reluctantly, “but only if I get to keep score.”
“Fine by me! I can never keep it all straight anyway.”
After shift, they converged on the lanes shortly after midnight. Merilee and Paula, both tall and slender, took to one another right away and were soon discussing vacation hot spots. For the first time, Jaylynn got to meet Shayna, and she was pleased and surprised at the same time. For one thing, Shayna was friendly and gregarious. She gave Dez a hug—which surprised Jaylynn—and patted Jaylynn on the shoulder. Shayna’s warm, brown eyes shone upon her. Taller than Crystal by only a couple inches, Shayna’s skin was cocoa-brown, and she was plump. She wore a pair of half dollar-sized dangly gold earrings and six or seven gold bracelets on each wrist. Jaylynn liked the tie-dyed shirt Shayna was wearing and told her so. With an arm across her shoulders, Shayna walked her over to the shoe counter, talking nonstop about tie-dye methods. Before she knew it, Jaylynn had committed to taking a tie-dye class with her.
&nbs
p; Bo’s Bowling Center was crowded, but they were lucky enough to get the last two lanes together. True to Crystal’s description, the experience was amusing. Jaylynn threw a strike on the first ball and followed it up with a gutter ball. Shayna managed to roll one ball across the double gutter and into the next lane, surprising their neighbors with a strike. Dez made up for lack of finesse by rolling powerhouse tosses, fast and furious, which caused the pins to explode noisily, though there were often one or two pins left standing. Everyone teased everybody about everything. For the first game, Dez won with 120 points.
“Should we do another round?” Crystal asked.
Shayna, who managed to rack up a mere 56 points, said in a grumpy voice, “No! Now I remember why I hate bowling. The ball’s heavy, the shoes hurt your feet, and they play crappy music.”
“Oh, come on,” Crystal said, laughing as she circled Shayna’s waist with a strong arm. “We haven’t even been here an hour!”
“You come on,” Shayna said. “Admit it. Do you actually like this music?” Blaring over the tinny loudspeaker was Billy Ray Cyrus doing “Achy Breaky Heart.” Shayna’s face lit up. “I know! Let’s go dancing.”
“Yeah, good idea,” Merilee said. “Let’s hit the Metro and dance the night away. Whaddya say?”
“I don’t know,” Dez said doubtfully.
Jaylynn watched the interactions from her seat next to Paula.
Crystal aimed a karate chop at Dez’s midsection, which she blocked handily. “It’s not even one o’clock yet,” Crystal said. “Listen, chica, you need to kick up your heels a little bit.”
“Yeah,” Shayna said. “Please come. And you, too, Paula. Jaylynn?” She looked around at everyone with a hopeful smile on her mahogany brown face. “Girls?”
Jaylynn shrugged and glanced over at Dez.
Crystal feigned another series of jabs at Dez. “If you’re real nice,” she said, “you can dance one with me. I’ll even let you lead. Maybe.” Her eyes twinkled with glee as she stifled a laugh and took hold of Shayna’s arm. “Come on.” She looked back toward Dez. “Let’s get Twinkle Toes out of her uncomfortable shoes and go.”
Throughout this discussion Jaylynn felt torn, not sure if she wanted to tag along or not. She was surprised Dez relented so easily, but Dez was changing her shoes and didn’t appear to have a problem with the idea. Jaylynn sat on the molded blue plastic chair and exchanged the two-tone leather monstrosities for her sneakers. Silently she followed the laughing group of women to the shoe return counter, threw in some cash for the line, and listened as they all argued about who should ride with whom, who would drink, who would abstain. Jaylynn carpooled with Crystal, Shayna, and Paula, while Merilee hopped into Dez’s truck to follow Crystal’s Chevy Impala over to the dance bar.
“It’s a hot spot tonight,” Merilee said gleefully as she got out of the car. “Looks like fun.” The boom of the bass could be heard in the parking lot. “Cool. Must be a live band.”
The six women made their way to the door, which Dez grabbed and held open. Jaylynn stepped into a dim room, about sixty feet wide and forty feet deep. The bar, on the far wall from the entrance, was staffed by three bartenders surrounded by thirsty patrons. The left half of the room contained tables and chairs while the right section was a dance floor, currently full of writhing bodies moving to the thump of the band. The stage for the band was set in the wall in the far right corner. Jaylynn saw a drummer, guitarist, bass, keyboard player, two horn players, and two backup vocalists. A scary-looking man wearing what appeared to be a black fright wig—but wasn’t—was singing a rousing rendition of Rod Stewart’s “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy.” The crowd danced at a fever pitch.
“Let’s go, girls,” Shayna shouted. She and Crystal, Paula, and Merilee made a beeline for the floor, leaving Jaylynn standing, uncertain, next to an equally reticent Dez. The four women pressed through the crowd and joined the swirling mass.
The music pounded loud, so Jaylynn jumped when a low voice tickled her ear. “Dance? Or sit?”
Jaylynn shrugged. She shouted, “I hate this song.”
Dez nodded in agreement and gestured toward the tables. Jaylynn sat at a rickety brown table. Spilled beer dripped off the side, so Dez wended her way through the crowd and got a rag at the bar. She returned and wiped up the table. She leaned down and said, “You want something to drink?”
Jaylynn shook her head.
Dez took one last swipe at the tabletop and headed back. Jaylynn watched her gracefully negotiate between tables and patrons, her broad shoulders dipping and twisting to pass through the throng. She slipped into the crowd and Jaylynn lost sight of her.
Jaylynn looked around the busy nightclub full of happy, dancing people. Scooting her chair forward, she put her elbows on the table and leaned her chin in her hands. Her eyes combed the crowd until they lit upon a dark form, half a head taller than most everyone around, and Jaylynn watched Dez, carrying two glasses, worm her way through the mob surrounding the bar.
As Dez made her way back, women seated nearby stared at her appraisingly, some with obvious interest. Dez didn’t seem to notice. She set the drinks down and slipped into the seat next to Jaylynn, facing the dance floor, and slung an arm across the back of Jaylynn’s chair. With her other hand she picked up the tumbler and drained it, then set it back on the table.
Jaylynn shouted, “What did you get there?” as she nodded toward the glasses on the table.
“Ice water,” Dez said.
“What?”
Dipping her head down near Jaylynn’s ear, she repeated herself and said, “Want some?”
Jaylynn shook her head. Dez picked up the other glass and took a sip. They sat like that through three more songs. Every once in a while Jaylynn caught sight of one of the other cops out on the floor dancing, laughing, caught up in the music.
Next to her Dez sipped her drink, then bent to say, “You like to dance?”
Jaylynn nodded. Dez’s face was inches from her own, and Jaylynn was relieved the dark disguised the fact that she was blushing. The band was now playing an old Van Morrison song, “Wild Night,” and she couldn’t resist tapping her feet with the rhythm of the horns and the upbeat tempo.
Dez leaned in again. “Sure you don’t want something to drink?”
“Maybe later.”
“What?” Dez leaned down very close, tipping her head to the side to hear.
“Later,” Jaylynn enunciated.
Dez nodded as she sat back, but she kept her arm on Jaylynn’s chair. The band segued into Madonna’s “Holiday,” complete with the horns playing. Jaylynn smiled. In Dez’s ear, she enunciated, “I love this song.”
“Me, too,” Dez shouted. “Shall we?” She downed the last of her water and inclined her head toward the dance floor. Jaylynn swallowed, her heart pounding mercilessly. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to do this, but Dez grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her toward the floor. She let herself be dragged along behind like a skier on a towline. Once they merged into the throng of dancers, once she let herself feel the beat, once she allowed herself to breathe again, she relaxed. The singer was doing a passably good job with the vocals, and the band’s sound was lush and full. Dez did a little shimmy, and Jaylynn let herself slip into a rhythm complementing the taller woman’s moves. She was surprised at how adept Dez was, all sinew and legs. But why wouldn’t someone as coordinated and physical as Dez be a good dancer? Jaylynn didn’t expect if for some reason.
A new song began, one Jaylynn didn’t recognize at first, but it had a nice fast beat, and she slipped right into a groove. She heard the lyrics, recognized it as a Gloria Estefan song, and broke out in a smile. Moving closer to Dez she shouted, “I love Gloria!” Dez nodded back at her.
Jaylynn lost herself in the dance, feeling her body purring with the fun of it. She closed her eyes and let the pounding of the music guide her motion. Opening her eyes, she watched Dez for a moment until she moved closer and bent down, saying into her ear, “You got moves, w
oman.” Jaylynn blushed some more and ripped a quick jab to Dez’s shoulder.
“Hey!” Dez stopped and grabbed Jaylynn by the shoulders. “How come everybody’s hitting me tonight?”
Jaylynn twisted away and grinned back. Then the song was ending, winding down to a slower beat, and the keyboard cut in, playing the first few strains of a song Jaylynn couldn’t quite identify at first—and finally recognized as Toni Braxton’s love ballad, “I Don’t Want To Sing Another Love Song.” Half of the dancers fled the floor, leaving the rest to move closer to their partners and gear down into a slower, more sensual dance.
The two women’s eyes met. Jaylynn stepped back. I can’t do this tonight. Definitely not possible. She tore her eyes away from the shiny blue chips burning into her, but before she could get away, she felt hands on her shoulders guiding her into a light embrace. She let her hands drop to Dez’s hips, feeling the leather of a belt against her palms. Her cheek would fit so perfectly in the crook of Dez’s neck, but she resisted the urge to press her face there, holding herself a little apart. A brush of lips against her ear and the low voice asked, “You okay with this?”
“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t know.” Warm hands against her back edged her closer. She sighed as she dropped her forehead into the crook between Dez’s neck and chin, only to hear a heartbeat matching her own, beating wildly. She couldn’t stop herself from moving closer, wrapping arms tight around the slim waist, her body craving more while her mind told her to resist. She felt a gentle stroke from the top of her head, through her hair, down the back of her neck where the hand stopped, the palm hot and dry against the skin above her collar.
It was too much.
Jaylynn tore herself away and dashed through the crowd, heading blindly toward the door. She passed a startled Merilee and apologized to Crystal as she cut by her. At the door she pushed against the heavy wood and burst into the humid night air, gasping for breath. The door behind her popped back open and Dez was at her heels, grasping her shoulder. Jaylynn refused to face her and tried to shrug her off.
