Brooklyn Summer

by Maggie Cummings

  “Colombian roast okay?”

  “You have coffee from the Beanery. You are my hero.”

  Kellan’s smile seemed genuine as she prepped the coffee, and it touched her in spite of the internal warning she’d given herself not two minutes ago. She scanned the room for last night’s discarded clothes until she spotted them in a heap on the floor. She stretched for her shirt, and Kellan took a few steps forward, picking it up and handing it to her.

  “Here.” Kellan sat on the edge of the bed. “Do not misunderstand this kind gesture. I’m only helping because I saw you struggling to reach. I’m not endorsing you putting on clothes at all.”

  Ashleigh felt her heart pound ridiculously. She swept her hand down the side of Kellan’s chiseled face, bronzed after a day in the sun, as she put on her shirt and stood up. “A true gentleman,” she said with a snicker as she tugged lightly on Kellan’s bedhead before padding down the hall.

  In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, attempted to do something with her hair. But there was no saving the mess, wild from the combination of vigorous sex and falling asleep while it was still damp from the shower. She gave up and pulled it off her face.

  “You know we have nothing on the agenda today,” she said, as she walked back into the main space.

  Kellan was at the kitchen island pouring their coffees. “I saw that on the schedule.” She reached for the cream and sugar, offering it to Ashleigh first. “Do you have anything going on with your family, your friends?”

  “Not a thing.” She stirred her coffee and took the first delightful sip. “You?”

  “Just this.” Kellan smiled. She nodded to the clouds out the window. “Sort of the perfect weather for holing up and doing nothing really.”

  “Cheers to that.” She raised her drink to Kellan’s and felt a major rush when their eyes locked. A whole day together with no plans—she shuddered at the possibilities.

  But the morning unfolded slowly. They nursed their coffees. Kellan made spinach and tomato omelets. They ate together side by side at the island, talking about the basics. Families and work and friends. It was easy and chill and she felt herself slipping deeper into the comfort zone they’d come upon so naturally since their first real outing together. There was zero awkwardness at having slept with each other. If anything, their interactions were smoother than before, and when Kellan flopped on the bed to relax, Ashleigh followed suit, resting her head against her chest.

  Kellan stroked her hair. “Are you tired?” she asked.

  Ashleigh was wide awake. She just wanted closeness. And well, to be honest, nakedness. She’d passed out so quickly last night. She was dying for more. Even still, she had no idea how to make the first move.

  She shook her head and tilted it slightly to make eye contact.

  Kellan was there. “Good,” she whispered, finding her lips. The kiss that followed was deep and soft and full of promise. In a second, her shirt was off, Kellan’s too. Kellan was assertive and sure and confident, seeming to know exactly where and how to touch her. Everything about it turned her on.

  This time, after she came, she didn’t pass out immediately. She channeled all her endorphins, feeding off their energy to overcome the slight trepidation she had over the fact that it had been eons since she’d done this. Ignoring her mild neuroses, she kissed her way down Kellan’s fantastic body.

  She started at her neck but quickly moved to her strong shoulders, her muscular chest. She was distracted by Kellan’s tattoos, some colorful, others designed in various shades of gray. She kissed them all religiously, running her lips and tongue over the delicate lines, a ridiculous attempt at tasting their significance.

  Without notice her anxiety faded, replaced by the encouragement of Kellan’s gentle touches guiding her the whole time. There was something about the way Kellan was able to maintain control but still allow her to feel in charge that was intoxicating. The dynamic moved things to a level she hadn’t known existed. She was dying to taste Kellan, and when she finally did…Oh my God—it was amazing. She could have stayed in place for hours, her tongue buried deep inside. But after a solid few minutes, she felt Kellan’s hand press firmly against the back of her head, and she registered the change in the cadence of Kellan’s breathing, her hips bucking slightly forward.

  Ashleigh rested her face on Kellan’s stomach, tracing the outline of her hip with one finger.

  “Come up here,” Kellan said, pulling her into a lingering kiss. “You didn’t have to do that.” Kellan touched her cheek. “You know that, right?”

  “I wanted to.” Ashleigh’s blood pressure started to rise. “Was it okay? I mean, did you not want me to?” She squeezed her eyes closed and touched her forehead to Kellan’s bare chest, embarrassed that she might have crossed a line and been so caught up she didn’t even notice.

  “Stop.” Kellan lifted her chin with one finger. “It was perfect. And hello, clearly I enjoyed it.”

  “You did, right? I wasn’t sure. It’s just been a while and—”

  Kellan silenced her with one finger to her lips. “Ash, relax. It’s just me. Quit stressing.” Their faces were close, and she felt Kellan’s hand fall into a familiar spot at the small of her back. “You don’t have to worry about me. I promise to tell you if there are things I’m not into.” She kissed each of her eyelids, the gesture sweet and oddly sincere. “I hope you’ll do the same for me. That’s the reason I said something. I don’t ever want you to feel pressured into doing anything. Or, you know, feel too shy to tell me if there is something you want.”

  “Okay.” It felt like a weak response, but it was all she could come up with. This three-minute conversation was more than she and Reagan had talked about sex in twelve years of marriage. She sighed inwardly, realizing that was perhaps part of the problem. “Thank you,” she said, genuinely appreciative of Kellan’s willingness to talk and effortless way of making it all seem like no big deal. As for actually verbalizing things she thought she might be interested in trying, she wondered if she’d ever have the courage to say those words aloud. But Kellan’s willingness at least made it a possibility.

  Ashleigh touched a cluster of stars dotted near Kellan’s shoulder and collarbone. “What now?”

  “That’s a big question,” Kellan said. “Do you mean, like”—she wagged her finger between them—“here?”

  “Uh-oh. Who’s nervous now?” Ashleigh caught Kellan’s finger and brought it to her lips. She gave the tip a small playful nibble. “I meant today. It’s still overcast, but there’s no rain.” She ran her hand through Kellan’s thick dark hair and placed a kiss on her forehead. “How about a walk? I hear an iced coffee beckoning to me.”

  Twenty minutes later, Ashleigh treated them to large cold brew coffees, because even though it was cloudy, the temp was still mid-eighties. On the walking path that wound through Brooklyn Bridge Park, they sipped their beverages, talking about the city and the days ahead as the afternoon slipped into evening. When they reached the end of the park, Kellan took her hand and held it, and Ashleigh couldn’t help but smile at how natural it felt to walk the streets of her neighborhood together. She led the way through Cobble Hill and Carroll Gardens, pointing out the senior center when they reached the border of Gowanus and Park Slope.

  “Did I tell you that my grandmother has a boyfriend?”

  “No way. That’s fantastic.”

  Ashleigh rolled her eyes but felt a smile emerge just the same. “Apparently, they play on the phone together.”

  “Wait.” Kellan stopped in her tracks. “You mean like we did the other night?”

  Ashleigh squealed. “Argh. No.” She covered her face in spite of her laughter. “I can’t believe you even suggested that. They go on social media sites together.” Her shiver was half embarrassment at her own recent foray and half aversion at the thought of Granny doing anything even remotely similar. “I may never get past that image.”

  “Well, I didn’t know what you meant.” Kellan lau
ghed with her, and Ashleigh enjoyed hearing the sound of her deep, throaty chuckle. “You always talk about how she has a ton of energy and is young at heart.” She was smiling big and her eyes danced in the evening light. “I’m sorry.” Kellan pulled her close and touched her cheek with the pad of her thumb. Ashleigh felt her body purr in response to the simple gesture. “Forgive me?”

  “We’ll see,” she teased.

  Kellan leaned forward and placed a soft leading kiss on her lips. “If I beg?”

  “Maybe.” She tilted her head back, and Kellan seemed to accept it as the offer it was, finding her neck and kissing it over and over. The feel of Kellan’s body, the way she touched her, kissed her…she wanted more. But they were in the middle of the sidewalk on busy Fifth Avenue, a scant few blocks from her parents’ house. “Come,” she said, forcing herself to unwind from Kellan’s embrace. “Nothing good will come of this.” Ashleigh tugged Kellan along down the street.

  “I wholeheartedly disagree,” Kellan said, even though she followed dutifully behind. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  Ashleigh sighed, tipping her head toward the sky. “I should probably go home,” she said. “I’ve been gone for a while.” She saw Kellan pout and it made her smile. “You probably wouldn’t mind some time to yourself.”

  “I have plenty of alone time. Come back with me.”

  “I would. I want to,” she said, adjusting her statement with the truth. “But if I don’t show my face soon, there’ll be drama.”

  “I’m not following.” Kellan kept them from crossing on the red signal, and against the dark sky the color in her eyes was as vivid and bright as the Connemara hills. It almost broke her resolve.

  “The thing is…living with my parents is fine, for the most part. Not that I plan on staying here forever. But when Reagan and I separated nearly two years ago, at the time I thought the break might bring us back together somehow. It sounds ridiculous now.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  “I didn’t want to get a place, commit to a lease. This just seemed like a better plan. When it became clear things weren’t going to work out and we started the divorce process, it was nice being here. Not being alone. My parents are wonderful. My grandmother is a trip. It’s actually been a way easier transition than I ever expected. That said, I can’t just disappear for two days. They will worry.”

  “Wait a second. Don’t they know where you are?”

  “Well…not exactly.”

  The expression on Kellan’s face said she was confused, not angry. Still, Ashleigh owed her an explanation. “It was late when I left last night. I just said I was meeting Shauna for a drink and was going to crash there. Even at my age, there is something inherently awkward about explaining to your parents that you are going out and hoping to…you know.” She felt her cheeks getting hot and was thankful they were walking so Kellan couldn’t see her blush.

  “Hoping, huh?”

  “Shut up, jerk.”

  They stepped up onto the curb, and Kellan gripped her hand to stop them for a second. She leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss on her lips. “I was hoping too. I’m glad you came over. Even if they think I’m Shauna,” she joked. They strolled on and Kellan laced their fingers together. “Is that what you always tell your family? Do you and Shauna have some kind of code in place?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know, for situations like this. When you stay out?”

  Mortifying. That’s what this was. Ashleigh wasn’t sure how they’d veered into the very topic she was planning on avoiding altogether. It wasn’t required information. They weren’t girlfriends by any stretch of the imagination. Kellan didn’t need to know she hadn’t slept with anyone since her divorce or that she had only ever been with Reagan, for that matter. For all Kellan knew, this could be something she did every summer, every school break. Heck—every weekend, if she wanted. But in the absence of a response, her silence answered for her.

  “Hold up.” Kellan stopped walking and faced her. “Ash, have you not…I mean since Reagan, am I…” Her voice faded, but the words were already out there. She knew.

  “I’ve only been divorced since September,” she said as though her decision needed justification. But the reality was Reagan and Josh had started dating the moment they’d separated. There was absolutely no reason she couldn’t have done the same. She placed both hands over her face solely so she didn’t have to look Kellan in the eye.

  Kellan’s touch was soft as she slid her fingertips along her forearms and eased her hands down. “Uh-uh. Nope,” she said, tilting her face so their eyes met. “Don’t do that. Please?”

  “It’s embarrassing.”

  “It’s not. It shouldn’t be.” Kellan touched her face. “You loved your wife. You wanted things to work.”

  “Meh.”

  “Don’t blow that off. It’s true and it’s honorable. And it makes you who you are. Don’t belittle it.”

  It was only part of the reason, and she hated giving Reagan all the credit. “It’s more that all this is foreign to me. I met Reagan when we were kids. I never did the dating scene. Not really.”

  “You didn’t date before Reagan?”

  “A few boys here and there in high school. Nothing serious. Even then I knew I was attracted to women. I didn’t have a clue how to make that happen. Not entirely unlike now.” She hoped her self-deprecation played as cute instead of pathetic.

  “You’re doing just fine now.” Kellan’s smile was enough to make her melt on the spot. “Although for the summer, I’m hoping to get all your attention. There’s still a lot of New York to see, and I like having a personal tour guide.”

  “So you’re in it for the historical anecdotes?”

  “There might be a few other perks too.”

  Ashleigh squeezed their clasped hands and tried for a playful punch to Kellan’s biceps. Her strength was way outmatched, but Kellan let her land the shot anyway, faking a wince that was both over the top and still adorable. They held hands for the remaining few blocks to her parents’ house on Garfield Place, and standing outside the family brownstone, Ashleigh went for a real kiss, not even caring that they might have an audience.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “How are things going with Ashleigh?” Behind the bar, Liam washed glasses and prepped drinks for a respectable dinner crowd, but he turned as he did his chores, clearly expecting a response.

  “Awesome. She’s great people.” Kellan opted for a safe answer, but only because she didn’t know how much to reveal. Since their adventure to Fire Island four days earlier, she and Ashleigh had slept together two more times. The sex was beyond good, and each time she felt Ashleigh come out of her shell a little more. The first encounter followed an afternoon at the Guggenheim Museum where they could barely keep their hands off each other as they perused the exhibits. Kellan had wondered a little bit if they were even going to make it back to her place as they eye-fucked each other the entire subway ride back.

  Likewise, when the sky opened out of nowhere and cut short a leisurely stroll along the Coney Island boardwalk, they’d raced to the shelter of her swank Dumbo crib. Stripping out of their sopping wet clothes, she’d turned Ashleigh around, bending her over against the kitchen island to take her from behind. Ashleigh didn’t stop her. On the contrary, she begged for more when two fingers weren’t enough to satisfy her. In the corner mirror she’d glimpsed Ashleigh writhing and reaching back to grasp for her. Ashleigh had pulled her forward by her hair, demanding a kiss that was both hard and possessive. The action had taken her by surprise. Something about the assertive way Ashleigh begged to be overpowered was a complete turn-on. Combine that with the X-rated image in the mirror…she’d nearly come on the spot.

  Liam reached for her empty pint, bringing her back to the present. “You two are hitting it off then?”

  “Yep. For sure.”

  That was putting it mildly, but in addition to not knowing where Ashleigh stood with making anything pub
lic, she was floored at the insane connection they’d made in such a short period of time. She blamed it on summer—vacation and the heat toying with reality. Because if it was anything else, well, that scared her even more. “How’s business?” she asked, looking around the semifilled space.

  “Decent.” He coupled his answer with a definitive nod. “It’s still early and I’ve got asses in chairs, to borrow a phrase from Lieutenant Ambrose. Remember him?”

  “Hard to forget a personality that strong.” She took a sip of her fresh beer. “You have to let me pay for my drinks. I’m on to that trick where you take my card and don’t put any charges on it.”

  “I can do what I want.” He met her eye roll with an arched eyebrow. “I’m actually the boss here. How do you like that beer?”

  “Nice. Hoppy.”

  “Too bitter?”

  “No. It’s good.”

  He lifted a case of bottles from atop the ice cooler and started to restock the bar fridge with some local craft brew. “Do you keep in touch with anyone? From your platoon? Your battalion?” His question, more specifically the way he asked it, sounded calculated, like he was leading up to something, but she was probably just being paranoid.

  “I check in on Thad Dussaint here and there. Do you know him?”

  “Big guy? Football player?”

  She nodded. “His time is up in eighteen months. He’s counting the days. I keep tabs on some of the others on Facebook. It’s nice to see everyone getting by in the real world.”

  “You ever talk to Dara Torres?”

  There it was. She was sure her expression revealed some emotion, but she tried like hell to keep stoic. “Nah.”

  “And you’re just fine with that? Never talking to her again?”