by Julie Cannon
Even though Kelly’s description of her journey was understated, Matt could hear the sense of pride in her words.
“That’s what makes us so successful,” Kelly said. “Women feel more comfortable with another woman in their house, especially if they’re alone or have kids.”
“That makes sense. Seems as though you found the perfect niche.”
“I like to think so.”
“Any plan on becoming a major contractor?” Sandra asked, ever the entrepreneur.
“I’ve thought about it, and it’s an option, but not one I’m interested in at this point. That’s a big commitment, and I’m not sure I want to go down that road. I like what I’m doing now. Anything bigger might just muddy the waters.”
“Don’t fix it if it’s not broke?” Matt asked.
Kelly smiled, and Matt’s butterflies ramped up again.
“Something like that. I’m a control freak, and since it’s my company with my name on it, any bigger I’d lose control. And that would drive me crazy.”
The image of Kelly taking control in the bedroom was exciting, and Matt tucked that thought away for another time.
“That makes a lot of sense. Where do you live?” Becca asked.
“Atlanta.”
“Did you live there during the Olympics?” Becca asked.
“No. I moved there a few years after.” Kelly turned her attention to Matt. “You know all about me, and I understand you two are the best friends on earth.” She tilted her beer bottle in the direction of Becca and Sandra. “What about you, Matt? What do you do when you’re not enjoying a vacation your friends sent you on?” Kelly settled back in her seat.
“I’m an author.
“Really? What do you write?”
“Children’s books.”
“I’ve never known an author. Are you famous? Would I know any of your titles?”
“Only if you’re a preteen,” Matt said comfortably.
“What kind of books do you write? I guess that’s called genre, isn’t it?” When Matt nodded, Kelly continued. “Are they like bedtime stories or Harry Potter kind of books?” Kelly seemed suddenly very interested in children’s literature.
“Somewhere in the middle, actually. I have a series, and my heroine is a twelve-year-old girl named Dylan who can’t keep her nose out of everyone else’s business. She usually ends up in some kind of mischief solving crimes.”
“That’s way cool. I’m having dinner with a famous author. Do you write under your name, or do you have a pen name?”
“Under my own name, but I’m starting a new series about teenagers in the future. It’s my first foray into sci-fi, and I’ll use a pen name for it.”
“Why would you do that?” Kelly asked.
“When people know an author, they expect a certain kind of book, actually in a specific genre. For instance, everyone knows Stephen King writes some bizarre, scary stuff. If he wrote a western, his readers would pick it up because he’s the author but be in for quite a surprise after the first chapter or two. Readers expect a certain experience from an author, especially one who’s written several books in that genre. For that reason, using a different name is pretty common in the publishing industry.” Matt didn’t share that she also wrote lesbian erotica, that she was pretty good at it and that it was very profitable.
“I never knew that,” Kelly said, lifting her beer to her lips.
Visions of Kelly’s lips other places flashed through Matt’s mind, and she would have sworn she’d broken out in a cold sweat.
“Not that I’d have any reason to know, but it’s pretty interesting,” Kelly added, oblivious to Matt’s plight. “How did you get started writing?”
“Kind of like you, I suppose,” Matt said. “I’d always been an avid reader, and one day, I had some time on my hands and sat down with a pad and pen and just started writing.” She didn’t say that she was out on one of her pretend dates and was killing time until it had been long enough to go home. Becca and Sandra were babysitting and had made it clear Matt was expected to spend the night with her date. That hadn’t happened, but the voluminous number of words that had flown onto the page had. Matt reiterated how she submitted her first book and how it was picked up immediately. Six others followed quickly, and while she was waiting for number seven to be published, she worked on her new series. She was more than halfway finished, the sequel already brewing in her mind.
“Don’t forget about the lesbian sex books,” Sandra said. Sometimes she could be a complete ass.
Kelly’s eyebrows shot up. “Lesbian sex books?”
“She calls them erotica,” Becca chimed in. “I call them hot.”
“You have a boyfriend, Becca,” Sandra said. “Don’t tell me we’re finally getting you to step over to the wild side.” Sandra and Matt were always teasing Becca about her heterosexual lifestyle and often ended the teasing jabs with “But we love you any way you are.”
“No, but I will tell you that I made Kevin read one, and I have to say…” She turned toward Matt, her face flushed. “Thank you.”
“Me?” Matt asked, growing uncomfortable with the conversation. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about sex while Kelly was sitting across the table from her. “What did I do?”
“You gave me the best orgasm of my life.” Becca used the menu to fan herself.
Matt dropped her head in her hands. “Oh, jeez,” she groaned. “Can this get any more embarrassing?”
“Probably.” Sandra jumped in. “Do tell.” Sandra encouraged Becca to continue.
Matt jumped in. “Do not tell.”
“Let’s just say all of your books are a staple on my nightstand.”
“Forget about the kids, let’s focus on the grown-ups. How many of those have you written?” Kelly asked, an amused look on her face.
“Not enough.” Sandra answered for Matt. “Unlike Becca’s boyfriend, I don’t need any help in that area. But I can honestly say that the last woman I was with would probably say the same thing as Becca did.”
“Can I just crawl under a rock anytime soon?” Matt didn’t mind talking about her erotica, and both women were her beta readers, but to do so in front of Kelly was making her uncomfortable.
Kelly, however, was a good sport when she asked both Becca and Sandra, “What is one of your favorites?”
“Hmm. There are so many.” Sandra was obviously mulling over the question.
Becca answered. “I’d say it’s like kids. You love them all equally, but some are more interesting and exciting than others.”
“That makes no sense,” Sandra interjected.
“Can we talk about something else?” Matt asked, more a prayer than a question.
“Just one more question,” Kelly said.
“At the risk of being completely mortified,” Matt waved her hand as if to say go ahead.
“What pen name do you use for those?” She had her phone in her hands, ready to Google it.
“Alice—”
Matt interrupted Sandra. “We are not going there. My open book is closed.” Matt cast a serious look at her friends.
“We’re going to look around the shop next door,” Becca said, standing and reaching for Sandra’s hand.
“We are?” Sandra asked, then quickly said, “Yeah. Right. We are. Alice Monroe,” Sandra said like a conspirator passing valuable information.
“What was all that about?” Kelly asked, watching them go out the front door. “Was it something I said?” She wasn’t serious.
“No. Of course not. That’s their not-so-subtle way of leaving us alone.”
“Must have been all that talk about lesbian sex,” Kelly teased.
“It’s not sex. It’s erotica.” Matt protested but knew when she was beat.
Kelly swiped her finger over her phone screen, her fingers flew over the screen. “According to Google, erotica is defined as literature or art intended to arouse sexual desire. Potato, potato,” Kelly said, using a British accent for the la
st word, making it sound like pa-ta-toe.”
“Google doesn’t lie,” Matt said, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.
“Did you want to go with them? They are your friends, and you are here with them,” Kelly asked.
Something in her expression must have given Kelly that idea. Why else would she have asked? Did she herself want out of the situation Becca and Sandra had left her in? Matt swallowed. What was the saying in Vegas—go big or go home?
“No. I’d rather be with you,” she said simply.
Chapter Thirteen
“I’d like that too,” Kelly said, her smile a thousand watts.
Matt’s heart beat a little faster and her clit got a little harder. Her hands started to sweat. She hadn’t been alone with a woman she was this attracted to in a very long time. She decided to play it safe for a while.
“Other than being an electrician, what do you do in your spare time?” Matt asked, trying to calm down. That and she loved hearing Kelly’s soft, smooth accent.
“I’m the sole owner of a women-only company in a very male-dominated field. What makes you think I have any spare time?”
“You managed to get here.”
“True, and I’m glad I did.” She looked directly at Matt, her message clear.
After a long pause, Kelly said, “Other than work and the rare trip to the grocery store, I play lacrosse.”
“Lacrosse?” Matt asked. “Like run around with a net on the end of a stick trying to get a ball into a goal?”
“It’s called the net, but yes. That’s it.”
“How did you get into that? Lacrosse isn’t a common, everyday sport, is it?”
“I went to college on a lacrosse scholarship.”
Matt sat back in her seat, the vinyl squeaking. “Really? Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you didn’t look like the scholarly type, because you do. I just thought, that…”
“Because I’m an electrician, I didn’t go to college?”
Matt wasn’t sure if she detected teasing in Kelly’s eyes or a challenge. “Um…” Matt felt her ship begin to teeter.
“I stepped into that one, didn’t I? I’m such an idiot,” Matt said. “That’s not what I meant. I just assumed you went right from high school to being an electrician.” Matt’s ship slipped even deeper, but when Kelly finally smiled, Matt let out a sigh of relief as it righted.
“It’s all right,” Kelly said, her smile even broader. “Actually, everybody thinks that. Let’s just say I was a late bloomer in discovering my true calling.”
“Where did you go to college?”
“Smith.”
“Smith College?” Matt could swear her voice squeaked.
Kelly nodded.
“Wow, beautiful, smart, and athletic.”
“I worked hard.”
“You certainly did. Isn’t Smith back East somewhere?” Matt asked
“It’s in Northampton, Massachusetts. About one hundred miles west of Boston,” Kelly added.
“So, tell me about Smith.”
“Most people think it’s a bunch of snooty, rich white girls, flitting around sororities, going to frat parties at Harvard or Yale, trying to snag a rich husband.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” Matt admitted, but then she realized that she too had that impression but just didn’t express it.
“There were those, but most of us just wanted an excellent education. At least the group I hung around with.”
“Was that the smart girls or the jockettes?”
Kelly laughed, a sound Matt wanted to hear again and again and again.
“Both. I was in the honors dorm, so we were a studious lot, and I needed to keep my grades up and skills sharp to retain my scholarship. My parents didn’t have any money, so if I wanted to eat or buy mascara or tampons, I had to work. My scholarship paid for tuition, but that was it.”
“That’s admirable.” Matt said.
Kelly shrugged off Matt’s compliment. “It’s nothing that other college kids don’t have to do. I will admit, though, that I was one of the few that had a job.”
“Where was it?”
“On campus, in the library. They worked around my schedule of classes and practices and paid me to sit around and wait for someone to come to the desk and ask a question. I spent most of my time studying.”
“Tell me a funny story about your college life,” Matt asked, eager to hear more.
Kelly tilted her head in a way that Matt recognized as her thinking look.
“For some reason the library was open twenty-four hours. Some nights I worked the overnight shift, and to stay awake, I’d bring my stick and ball and run up and down the aisles. You can practice a lot of moves sliding in and out of the aisles and zigzagging around the study carousels.”
“That’s good thinking.” Matt wished she’d had that opportunity when she was in college. She’d worked her ass off at her measly part-time job.
“I never told anyone, and when practice started that next season, our coach was surprised at how much better I was.”
“Did you ever share your secret with any of your teammates?”
“Yeah, I did, and most of them thought I was crazy. Sleep was always in short supply, but it was what I needed to do. I won the lacrosse player of the year three years in a row. So, who was crazy then?”
“That’s a lot of work,” Matt said, admiring her tenacity.
“Just a passion for the game.”
“So, you play now?” Matt asked.
Kelly nodded.
“Are there teams, or clubs, or Saturday-morning pickup games?” She had absolutely no idea.
“No. Actually Atlanta has several leagues—one for men, one for women, and a mixed league.”
“Let me guess. You play the mixed.”
“Why do you say that?” Kelly asked.
“I imagine you’re always up for a challenge, another level of competition. You want to better yourself, and playing against men gives you that,” Matt said, not sure where that insight came from.
“Probably a little bit of all the above.”
“So, you graduated from Smith. Then what?” Matt asked.
“I have a degree in history, so I got a job teaching in a high school in Atlanta and bought a small fixer-upper. I followed the electrician that I hired to rewire my kitchen, found a new love, and eight years later, here I am in a resort full of lesbians.”
“You could be in worse places.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be.”
Kelly was looking directly at Matt, and the not-so-vague sense of arousal she’d been feeling all day kicked up a notch.
“Would you like to head out down to the beach? I think we can catch the sunset if we hurry.”
“I’d love to,” Kelly replied, gathering her bag.
“I’m sorry if Becca or Sandra made you feel uncomfortable,” Matt said as they stepped onto the boardwalk that snaked along the shoreline. The sun was setting over the water, casting the sky in a bright-orange glow. Kelly stopped and, with one hand on Matt’s shoulder, slid off her sandals. The breeze blew Kelly’s skirt around her knees, giving Matt more than a little glance at firm thighs.
Kelly’s touch sent shock waves through Matt, and she reached out and grabbed the rail for support. Fire burned through her and stopped, smoldering between her legs. It had been a long time since a woman had touched her, and she was reacting accordingly. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until now. Her shoulder was suddenly cold when Kelly removed her hand.
“No, not at all,” Kelly answered as they moved down the walk. “It’s obvious they care about you.”
“Sometimes a little too much.” Most of the time Matt didn’t mind, but when they started after her about going out and getting serious with someone, it was all she could do not to tell them to mind their own damn business.
“I love this composite decking,” Kelly said abruptly.
Matt frowned. Had she missed part of a conversation? Was her h
ead in such a sex haze she couldn’t follow a simple conversation? “What?” She lived in Phoenix, where the only type of deck she knew of was the cement mixture of what was called cool deck around her pool.
“The planks aren’t wood but composite,” Kelly said, pointing at the horizontal slats under their feet as they walked. “They’re made from recycled material, making them much more durable and with a longer lifespan. No worries about cracking or splinters on your bare feet.”
“Wow, a three-time collegiate lacrosse player of the year, an electrician, and a know-about-decks woman.” Matt’s head had cleared from the fog that had engulfed it when Kelly touched her. They stopped at a vista that popped out from the boardwalk to their left, and Matt rested her hip against the rail, facing Kelly, their bodies inches apart. “Is there anything you don’t know?” Her chuckle caught in her throat when Kelly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fire sparking in Kelly’s eyes.
“What it would take for you to kiss me?”
Heat and desire flooded Matt’s veins as she searched Kelly’s eyes. They were expressive and, at this moment, mirrored what she was feeling.
Matt’s heart hammered as she reached up and stroked Kelly’s cheek with the back of her fingers. It was warm and soft, Kelly’s breath brushing her fingers. Never taking her eyes off Kelly’s, she moved to cup her hand behind Kelly’s neck, threading her fingers through her thick hair. Slowly Matt pulled her closer and kissed her.
It had been a very, very long time since Matt had kissed anyone, and longer than that since she had quaked with desire like this. The instant their lips met, Matt felt like she’d come home from a long journey she didn’t know she’d been on. It was the sweetest kiss, one that held promise, adventure, and excitement. One that would chase away her doubts, fears, uncertainty, and loneliness.
