Just a Touch Away

by Chris Paynter

  As if on cue, her phone rang. She smiled when she saw it was Cloe.

  “You must’ve known I was thinking about you,” Lindsey said softly.

  “That’s nice to hear, because I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”

  “I know it’s only been since Saturday, but I’d like to see you again. Soon.”

  “I’d like that, too. Do you want to come for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “That depends.”

  “Oh, yeah? On what?”

  “On whether you’re a good cook,” Lindsey teased.

  Cloe laughed. “I know what your priorities are.”

  “A girl’s gotta eat.”

  “Do you like pasta?”

  “I do.”

  “Six o’clock sound good?”

  “I just need directions to your place.” Lindsey went back into the cabin to get a pad of paper. Fred hurried after her.

  “You won’t need to write them down. I’m in an apartment above my parents’ garage behind their house, and their house is behind the store.”

  “I’ll bring a nice red wine over.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Lindsey.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Lindsey set her cell phone aside and sank back into the couch cushion. She smiled and her grin grew as she thought of tomorrow evening. Fred pressed his nose on Lindsey’s leg. She scratched his ears. “Sorry, Fred. It’s only going to be the two of us.”

  He huffed.

  “Yeah, I’d be upset, too.”

  Chapter 9

  Cloe didn’t overthink her bra and panties for the evening. She went with her generic white bra and randomly chosen panties. The lacy underwear set would come at a later date. Maybe. She couldn’t guarantee it, but she did know how she felt about Lindsey and could only see the attraction growing stronger.

  No, tonight was about getting to know each other even better. Of course, she wouldn’t object to a hot and heavy make-out session. She felt her face heat at the thought.

  She dressed in her favorite soft worn jeans and a sleeveless cotton blouse. Knowing Lindsey’s personality, she didn’t anticipate her dressing up. She put on a touch of makeup, including mascara, which she hoped would accentuate her eyes and not look like she was trying too hard. Smoothing her hands over her clothes, she took one last look in the mirror. A knock sounded at the door. She glanced at the clock. Right on time.

  Cloe took a breath to center herself before opening the door. Relieved to see Lindsey in jeans and a blue silk blouse, she somehow missed the flowers.

  Lindsey raked her gaze over Cloe and thrust the flowers and bottle of wine toward her. “These are for you. I mean, obviously they’re for you. Why do people say that when they bring gifts?”

  Cloe noticed Lindsey seemed a little nervous, too. “They’re beautiful. Come on in, and have a seat while I find a vase.”

  Lindsey entered the living room. Instead of sitting down, she followed Cloe into the kitchen. Cloe set the bottle of wine on the counter and banged open cabinets to find her vase. She pulled it off a top shelf, filled it halfway with water, and carefully put the mixed flower arrangement into it. She placed the vase in the middle of her dining room table. The “dining room” was really an extension of her small kitchen. She leaned over and sniffed. “I love the smell of fresh flowers.” She met Lindsey’s gaze and froze for a moment with the intense look Lindsey gave her. “Th-thank you, Lindsey.”

  “I wanted to do something special. This feels much more like a date, don’t you think?”

  “Yes,” Cloe answered softly. She motioned at the bottle of wine. “Do you want to open that now? I need to boil the pasta, then we can sit down for dinner.” She turned on the burner under the sauce to warm it. She’d prepared it before she dressed.

  “Where’s your corkscrew?”

  “Middle drawer by the sink.” Cloe turned back to the stove and switched on the burner the pot sat on.

  Lindsey grunted as she attempted to remove the cork. “You know, wine is great but sometimes it’s a pain in the ass to open.” She finally popped the cork. “Glasses?”

  “Shelf right above you.”

  Lindsey reached up, took down two wine glasses, and filled them halfway.

  Cloe glimpsed the label on the bottle and tried not to react when she saw it was an expensive brand. Apparently, she wasn’t successful.

  “I don’t normally buy this. It’s usually Oliver Winery or Easley’s from Indianapolis. I had this left over from a celebration of my last book.” Lindsey lifted her glass. “I thought tonight was a good night to celebrate.” She waited for Cloe to lift her glass, too. “Here’s to the beginning of something I already think is pretty damn special.”

  Cloe’s heart flipped at Lindsey’s words as she clinked glasses. She held Lindsey’s gaze over the rim of her glass then took a long sip. “God, that’s smooth.”

  Lindsey’s eyes widened. “Damn. It is, isn’t it? That could be why it’s $100 a bottle.”

  Cloe sputtered on her next sip.

  Lindsey chuckled. “Don’t waste any of it.”

  Cloe wiped her mouth. “Not smart telling me the cost while I’m taking another drink.”

  “Sorry.” Lindsey’s eyes twinkled in the kitchen light.

  Cloe playfully smacked her arm. “No, you’re not.” She glanced at the pot of water which was now boiling. “Time to drop in the pasta. Angel hair okay?”

  “Angel hair is my favorite.”

  After Cloe stirred the pasta, she pointed toward the dining room table. “Go ahead and take a seat. I’ll bring everything over.”

  Lindsey grabbed the bottle of wine and came back for their glasses. “That smells heavenly,” she said as she sat down.

  “The sauce is my mom’s recipe.” Cloe glanced over as she stirred. “Did you have any trouble finding the place?”

  “None at all. I just followed the drive behind the store.”

  Cloe drained the pasta, poured it and the sauce into separate bowls, and carried them to the table. She handed the bowl of pasta to Lindsey, who forked out a heaping helping. Cloe forked out a comparable amount onto her plate. Lindsey finished dabbling her pasta with sauce and handed it over. After Cloe did the same, she sniffed the air.

  “Shit. The bread.” She hopped up, grabbed an oven mitt, and opened the oven door. Thankfully, the bread was a nice golden brown, not a burnt crisp. She placed it on a plate and carried it to the table, along with the vat of butter. “Now, we’re set.”

  Lindsey took her first bite and moaned. “This is fantastic, Cloe.”

  Pleased with Lindsey’s reaction, she said, “Thank you.”

  They didn’t talk much during dinner, a good sign for Cloe that usually meant someone enjoyed the meal. Eventually, after they scraped their plates clean, Cloe stood. “Why don’t you fill up our glasses and make yourself comfortable in the living room? I’ll clear the table.”

  Lindsey rose from her chair and placed a hand on Cloe’s shoulder. “How about I clear the table, and you head into the living room? You prepared this wonderful meal. The least I can do is clean up. But please. Only a half-glass of wine for me since I’ll be driving home.”

  Cloe was about to argue about who could clean up, but Lindsey had already started stacking the plates. Cloe poured the wine and carried their glasses into the living room. She sipped on hers as she listened to Lindsey rinse the dishes and place them in the dishwasher. With Lindsey’s comment about not overindulging in the wine, she had a feeling Lindsey was on the same page as she was—taking this slow to see where it would lead.

  Lindsey finally finished. She flipped off the kitchen and dining room lights and joined Cloe on the couch. The small lamp on the end table created an intimate atmosphere. Cloe moved sideways on the couch and tucked her legs under her, so she could face Lindsey while they talked. She cradled the wineglass and rolled it between her hands. “Hi,” she said softly as their eyes met.

  Lindsey took a sip of her wine, set down t
he glass on the coffee table, and faced Cloe. “Hi.” She gave Cloe a gentle smile.

  “I’m glad you came over.”

  “Me, too. Feel free to invite me over anytime for dinner. It’s obvious you’re an excellent cook.” Lindsey shut her eyes. “I don’t mean that the way it sounded. Yes, you’re an excellent cook, but I’m happy to have dinner with you anywhere. It doesn’t have to be here. I mean—”

  Cloe reached over and touched Lindsey’s arm. “I know what you mean. You don’t need to explain.”

  Lindsey blew out a breath. “Good. Because I think I suck at it.”

  They both laughed.

  Cloe took another sip of wine and leaned over to place her glass on the coffee table. “You know a little about me. Why don’t you tell me how you got started writing children’s books?”

  “It’s not a very exciting story.”

  “Let me be the judge.”

  Lindsey settled against the cushion and sat sideways, similar to how Cloe was sitting. “Like you with your drawing, I was always writing as a kid. Mainly short stories about my pet frog or—”

  “Wait. You had a pet frog?”

  “Yeah. His name was Herbert. He went everywhere with me, too.” Lindsey laughed at Cloe’s expression. “I take it you’re not fond of frogs?”

  “Frogs are fine.”

  “You say that so convincingly.”

  “Enough about my reaction. Tell me about your stories.”

  “Herbert got me into all kinds of trouble as a kid. Mainly, because he wouldn’t stay in his aquarium all the time like a good frog. He figured out how to push his way past the mesh covering. I heard this scream one morning when I was eating breakfast. I jumped up to find my mom in the laundry room. She was pointing at Herbert perched on top of the clothes hamper. He looked pretty pleased with himself.”

  Cloe had to laugh at the image.

  “Anyway. Herbert was the star of my early stories. Later, it was about not fitting in at school, or my latest crush on one of the girls on the basketball team. I went on to Northwestern, got a degree in journalism, but found I really didn’t like the reporter’s life. I kept writing and eventually came up with stories about my character, Bobby. It was easy to write because Eric was the inspiration. A friend read the stories and suggested I have a publisher look at them. I was lucky that she knew an editor at Dunham. That editor ended up being Sylvia. She hooked me up with a great illustrator, and the books took off.” She shook her head, a look of wonder on her face. “I still can’t believe how popular they became. There’s been talk about making an animated TV series out of them.”

  “That’s fantastic, Lindsey.”

  Lindsey stared down at her hands as she fidgeted. “It would be if I could still write the series.”

  “It’ll come back to you. In the meantime, you have this other idea for a series. Who knows? That could catch on. Enough for interest in another animated TV series.”

  Lindsey raised her head. Cloe’s heart clutched when she saw the tears in Lindsey’s eyes. She couldn’t help it. She reached out and caressed Lindsey’s cheek, gently wiping away a tear. Lindsey held her hand as they locked gazes.

  Cloe’s pulse sped up when Lindsey leaned forward, hesitated for only a heartbeat, and brushed her lips against Cloe’s. Cloe returned the kiss, whispering against Lindsey’s lips, “I hate to see you cry.”

  Lindsey whispered back, “Let’s not talk about that now.” She ran her tongue along Cloe’s lower lip until Cloe opened her mouth to welcome her inside. She moaned as their tongues danced together in a sensual rhythm. The next thing she knew, Lindsey pressed her onto the couch and spread her full length against Cloe. Lindsey nibbled along Cloe’s neck until she reached the top of her chest. She unbuttoned the first button of her blouse and slid her hand inside to cup Cloe’s breast. Both of them moaned at the contact as Cloe’s nipple responded to Lindsey’s touch.

  Cloe was lost in the moment, but her brain caught up with the overwhelming feelings raging through her body. She gasped as Lindsey unbuttoned more of her blouse and raked her teeth against Cloe’s bra-clad nipple. “Lindsey.” When Lindsey started to push the bra aside, Cloe spoke Lindsey’s name with a little more urgency. “Lindsey, please, stop for a minute.”

  Lindsey raised her head, her blue eyes dark with desire. “Wh-what?”

  “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

  Lindsey glanced down at Cloe’s nipple that was hard as a rock against her bra. “I think I do.”

  If you could only feel what you’ve done to my panties, Cloe thought. She struggled to sit up. Lindsey moved off her and looked confused.

  “I’m sorry, Cloe. I thought you were enjoying it.”

  Cloe buttoned her blouse. She kept her head down, embarrassment causing her cheeks to burn. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Lindsey sat back. “Please tell me you like women.”

  Cloe gave a very unladylike snort. “I’d think it’s clear I do from the way we’ve kissed.”

  “Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”

  Cloe centered herself before speaking again. “I love kissing women. I love dating women.” She finally met Lindsey’s eyes. “But I’ve never made love to a woman or had a woman make love to me.”

  Lindsey didn’t say anything right away, which only made Cloe more nervous.

  “I know it might sound old fashioned, but I’ve been saving myself.” At the look on Lindsey’s face, Cloe quickly added, “I’ve dated plenty of women. Please don’t misunderstand. We’ve gone so far. But when it comes to the ultimate giving of our bodies, I’ve held back.” She took a deep breath. “Because I want my first time to be with someone really special. Someone I trust. Someone I love.”

  Lindsey still didn’t speak.

  Cloe ducked her head. “Nothing like ruining a mood.”

  Lindsey gently lifted Cloe’s chin until their eyes met. “You didn’t ruin anything. What you’ve told me? God, it’s so, so refreshing.”

  “Refreshing?”

  Lindsey grimaced. “I’m a writer, and I can’t come up with the right word. I find it so admirable that you’ve saved yourself this way.”

  Cloe shook her head slightly. “Believe me. Some of the women I’ve dated haven’t felt that way.”

  “Then they were fools. It’s your body and your choice.” Lindsey was quiet until speaking again. “Did you ever, um, ever—”

  “I lost my virginity to Kevin VanKellerman my senior year in high school, if that’s what you’re asking. It was prom night.” She shut her eyes. “It wasn’t fun. At all.”

  Lindsey stiffened. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “No, nothing like that. I simply knew that at that moment, I wasn’t into guys. I’d tried all through high school to fit in. I thought, hey, I need to at least see what I’m missing. Come to find out, I wasn’t missing anything. It was later, in college, that I finally accepted my sexuality and started dating women. Maybe it was because of the time with Kevin, but I decided I wasn’t going to let that intimacy happen again. Not unless love was involved.”

  Lindsey stared off at the wall. “Cloe, I don’t know if I’m capable of loving someone again. I mean, I’m not giving up, but I’m kind of an emotional wreck.”

  At first, Cloe’s heart sank. Then she thought about the Lindsey she was attracted to, the one who had so much to offer if only she’d see it for herself. “I think you’re too hard on yourself.”

  Lindsey laughed without humor. “Try telling that to my ex.”

  “What about her?”

  “She left when I shut down after Eric’s death.”

  Cloe took no solace in the fact she’d been right about why Elise had left. She thought it was such a cold, unfeeling reaction to Lindsey’s pain. Cloe remained silent as Lindsey continued.

  “Like I told you, she tried to get me to see a therapist, to open up to her. It seemed to make me shut down more. She left a few months later when she couldn’t take it an
ymore.”

  Cloe tried to think of something to say but couldn’t come up with any justification for her ex’s reaction.

  “It wasn’t her fault. It was mine,” Lindsey said.

  Cloe couldn’t stay silent any longer. “Love should be patient and kind. You don’t walk away from someone you love. Not like that.”

  “Elise did the best she could.”

  Cloe bit her lip to keep from saying more. Clearly, Lindsey couldn’t see it. Who was she to argue?

  They were quiet for a while. Lindsey broke the silence. “I didn’t mean to get so serious on you.”

  “Please. I started it. As I said, nothing like ruining a mood.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything.” Lindsey leaned forward and pulled Cloe in for a gentle kiss. “You shared something with me. Who you are as a woman. It’s a gift I’m honored to receive.”

  Cloe’s heart tripped at Lindsey’s words. If she wasn’t careful, she could fall head over heels in love with this woman. “Thank you, Lindsey,” she said softly.

  “I really like you, Cloe. I want to keep seeing you. Would that be okay?”

  Would that be okay? Are you kidding? It was Cloe’s turn to initiate a kiss. When they pulled apart, Cloe brushed the hair from Lindsey’s forehead. “It’s very, very okay.”

  “How about dinner at my place next time? Granted, I can’t cook like you do, but we can always grill out. Grilling, I can do. I know Fred would love seeing you. A night next week?”

  “Wednesday night works for me.”

  “Works for me, too.” Lindsey stood and headed for the door. Before she opened it, she turned and gave Cloe one last kiss. “I’ll call you Monday, and we’ll decide on a time.”

  “All right.”

  “Good night.”

  “Good night, Lindsey.”