Veronica chewed her lip and tried to think of something to say to break the uncomfortable silence between them. After a few minutes, they came to a shallow wide stream. They crossed it still not speaking. She’s nervous and uncomfortable, and I’m an ass. I shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have teased her.
They approached another kissing gate. Millie’s steps slowed and her body tensed even more as she hurried through the gate. Damn. I ruined what could have been a pleasant hike. What was I thinking? She’s not into me like that. She wants a friend. Not looking for anything more.
The track angled downhill and toward a rocky shore. They followed the shoreline and crossed several small streams. Distracted by the perfection of Millie’s ass as she navigated the steep path of stepping-stones on the opposite side of the stream, Veronica lost her footing on a slick stone. Icy cold water filled her boot before she managed to right herself, narrowly avoiding ending up on her ass in the stream.
Millie bounded back across the rocks and offered her a steadying hand. “You okay?”
Veronica took hold of Millie’s hand, forcing herself to ignore how much she enjoyed touching her. “Slipped. I’m okay now.”
Millie met her gaze and Veronica swallowed hard. The heat and hunger shone in Millie’s eyes and Veronica wondered if Millie was interested after all.
“Let me help you.” Millie squeezed Veronica’s hand. Her normally deep voice was husky.
Veronica trembled, her body responding to Millie’s voice and the sensation of her touch. Millie held on as they crossed the stream and didn’t let go when they made the trail on the other side. Veronica bit her lip, not daring to say anything that might break the spell. She let herself be led. They crested the rise and a wide shore spread out before them. The water was a tropical blue and a white band spread along the edge of the water. The beach was deserted. A few gulls spun in lazy circles over the shore and then flew out over the sea. The sound of waves washing against the beach and the scent of the ocean made Veronica’s heart swell. “I’ve missed the sound of the ocean. We went all the time when I was growing up. The beach was my happy place.”
Millie let go of her hand, and Veronica was immediately bereft. She gestured toward the beach—“Maybe this can be a happy place too”—before she ducked her head and led the way down the path to the shore.
The beach was made of small broken shells and bleached bits of seaweed skeletons. The crisp salt smell of the ocean and the cries of the gulls filled her senses. Millie walked next to her, and on impulse, Veronica took her hand and laced their fingers together. “Thank you. This is what I needed. This place fills my soul.”
“I’m happy then.” Millie glanced at her, cheeks red. “I like it when you’re happy.”
Veronica tugged them to a stop so she could peer into Millie’s face. Her expression was guarded, hopeful, and it made Veronica’s heart ache. She lifted on her toes and pressed a kiss to Millie’s cheek. She lowered herself and studied Millie’s eyes. Fear had replaced longing. Too much. Back off. Let her have her space. She feels it too. She’s freaked out.
Millie gave her a tight smile and released her hand and stepped back. “Let me show you my favorite place to have tea.” She turned and walked away.
Veronica struggled to focus as she walked behind Millie, distracted by mental images of her hands and mouth on Millie’s body, fantasizing about tracing her tongue over her soft curves and hard muscles, pressing her lips against the nape of Millie’s neck as she lay beneath her. How am I ever going to tell her how much I want her? She’s freaked out. Why? Is it the work thing? Or she’s one of those women who always have to be in control. Maybe she doesn’t like being pursued? Or she’s not into women who look like me. Maybe it’s the race thing.
Veronica chewed her lip as she walked, studying the ground, so distracted she bumped into Millie. Again. Millie turned and grinned at her. “Anxious to eat?”
Veronica’s heart squeezed hard. It was the first flirty thing Millie had said since they had left the house.
Veronica laughed. “Hell yes. It’s been a while since breakfast.”
“This is the Ghrobain. Best view of the beach.”
They dropped their packs and Millie pulled out a green-and-white checkered oilcloth, shook it open, and spread it over the ground. Veronica sat on the cloth, careful to keep her shoes off the side. Millie pulled two thermoses from her pack. She handed one to Veronica. “This is for you. Robin knows you don’t fancy tea.”
“She’s very thoughtful. I like her. We’ve gotten to know each other a bit.”
Millie paused in laying out the small boxes of food and looked at Veronica. “She’s a good person. Had a hard life.” She leveled her gaze at Veronica. “Are you seeing her?”
“What? No.” Veronica realized how harshly she had spoken from the change in Millie’s expression. “No. She’s not my type.” She spoke softly this time.
“Because of her past?” Millie’s face was neutral, her voice even. “Because she was a sex worker?”
“No. I didn’t know. It’s not that.” She’s not you. “I’m not into blondes.”
“Blondes. In general?” Millie fiddled with the wrapping on her sandwich. “Do you not date white women?”
“I date who I’m attracted to. I’ve not dated a white woman, but I’m not opposed to it. Robin’s a wonderful person, but I don’t feel a spark with her.” Like I feel with you. Say it. Don’t say it. “We’re friends.”
“Good. That’s good.” Millie lowered her chin to her chest as she traced a finger over the oilcloth’s pattern. “I mean that you aren’t judging her because of her past.”
Veronica took a sip of coffee. “I’m not in a position to judge anyone.”
Millie took a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly before she swallowed. “Position or not, it doesn’t stop some people.”
“What about you?” Veronica nibbled on her sandwich. “Do you date women who are aren’t white?” Might as well get it out there.
“Yes. But not in a very long time.” She crumbled the wrapper in her fist. “Hurry up. I want to show you the rest of the beach. If I timed the tide right, we can cross over the causeway to Lampay.” She pointed to a tiny island offshore.
Chapter Eight
VERONICA RODE JACK out to the picnic area. After removing his tack, she turned him loose in the small paddock. She moved the tarp covering the cord of firewood on the far side of the turnout shed and restocked the wood in neat rows between two trees near the fire ring. Veronica assessed the seating area before she pulled on a pair of black nitrile gloves and picked up the remainders of the fireside buffet. A pair of white silk panties hung in tatters over one of the wooden bench seats, a leather paddle next to them. She picked up the paddle and placed it into the red plastic bag for toys. After a moment’s hesitation, Veronica gingerly picked up the remains of the panties and dropped them into the black plastic bag she had brought for trash.
Two floggers and a strap-on later she had finished cleaning up the aftermath of a client’s fantasy come true. Working her way around the site, she tidied up. She moved the wooden seats back into a neat circle, trying not to let her own fantasies get in the way of her work. Millie’s unattached. Skittish as hell. Maybe she’s stone? Elaine sure got quiet. What is the story there? Do I want to find out? The simple nature of her work left plenty of time to think, and Veronica turned events over in her head.
She grimaced as she bent to pick up a crop left on the ground. I wonder if they treat their own toys like this? What the hell, they could have at least left it off the wet ground. Well, they pay for the privilege. I’ll ask her to take me to Portree to drop off Bella’s saddle. She laughed out loud, remembering the bedraggled wet-to-the-skin-guest who didn’t take her warning about not letting Bella linger too long in the stream. She’d promptly divested herself of her rider and rolled in the water, saddle and all. The guest was good-natured about it. Veronica had been impressed with her humor, not to mention the wa
y her wet riding clothes hugged her body.
Millie looked like she wanted me to kiss her on the hike. I need to talk to her. Away from everyone so we can talk and not be interrupted, somewhere she can’t run away when she gets uncomfortable. When Veronica finished picking up the circle, she raked the ground. She filled the fire bucket and placed it next to the fire ring.
Veronica tied off the plastic trash bag and placed it on top of the fence post. “You’d be happy if we stayed here all day, wouldn’t you?” She patted Jack’s shoulder. He lifted his head from the hay crib and fixed her with his large dark brown eye. “But we have work to do.” She led him away from the hay. After slipping his bridle over his head she buckled it in place and tied his reins to the rail before she saddled him. Veronica used the fence as a makeshift mounting block to step into the saddle. We need a mounting block out here. And a bin. She stopped long enough to pick up the bag of toys and trash bag from the top of the fence to carry back to the house. Millie. That almost kiss. What would have happened? This is silly. I need to know one way or the other. I’ll ask her out. Today. When we stack the hay. “Let’s go, boy, before I lose my nerve.”
They rode back at a fast walk. Veronica settled into the horse’s rhythm. I can do this. She’s not collared. She’s a free agent. And so am I.
WHAT AM I thinking? She doesn’t like me like that. Why didn’t she kiss me on the hike? Veronica rolled the muck cart out the door. If she wanted me she’d let me know. She’s not into me. But she seems like she is. Fucking queen of mixed messages. Why am I so chicken-shit? She’s a grown-up and so am I. I’ll ask her. If she says no, she says no. She dumped the cart into the manure pit. I’ll ask her. Lunch is a good date, no pressure. She trudged back to the barn with the muck cart. She leaned it against the wall and glanced at the clock. She’ll be here soon. Not like I’m counting the minutes. Much.
MILLIE STOOD IN the hayloft backlit by the light filtering in from the gable end doors. “Which side do you want me to stack the older hay on?”
Kona, the barn cat, twisted and rubbed against Veronica’s leg. Veronica leaned over and scratched the cat’s ears before she pointed to the left side. “I want to move the bales from the last delivery to the left side, then I’ll know to use it first.” The cat meowed her annoyance at their disturbing her most favorite hunting ground and bolted down the loft steps.
They worked side by side, lifting the bails and stacking them neatly. “Orrin said he’d be by after lunch with the hay delivery.”
Millie quirked her mouth. “That means after his nap, so he won’t be here until close to supper.” Her shirt was wet with sweat and her skin glistened, and all Veronica wanted to do was to nibble and kiss the long line of Millie’s throat. She imagined the salt taste of the skin there. Millie rested her hands on her hips and tilted her head at Veronica, her expression curious, a half smile on her face, letting Veronica know she had caught her staring.
Ask. Ask her now. “Do you think you could take me to the saddlery in Portree? I need to leave Bella’s saddle with them for repair. And then I could take you to lunch?” The words came out in a rush, and Veronica cursed herself for being so nervous. When did that happen? When did I get so shy? Because she’s not a player. And neither am I.
“Like a date?” Millie raised both eyebrows.
Veronica squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yes. A date.”
“I can’t. I’ve got to—” Millie tucked her hands in her front pockets.
Veronica stifled her flinch at Millie’s refusal and spoke over her, not wanting to hear her excuse, not wanting her to know how disappointed she was. Friends. She wants to be friends. Or friends with benefits. Not someone to date. She’s not into me that way. “Never mind. It’s okay. I know you’re busy. I’ve got another saddle I can use. You could drop it off for me next time you have to make a supply run.” Veronica turned her back to Millie and busied herself with straightening the already straight bale of hay in front of her. Let it go. She’s not into you. Get it together.
Millie’s hand on her shoulder made her tremble. “I can’t this week because of guest pickups.” Her breath tickled the back of Veronica’s neck. “I’d love to go on a date with you. Would next week be too long to wait?”
Veronica turned to face her. Millie held her ground, their bodies pressed together, her body fitting neatly into Millie’s. Before she could talk herself out of it, Veronica raised her hand and cupped the back of Millie’s head and kissed her, a soft brush of her lips. Millie answered the kiss with a low growl, and her broad hands gripped Veronica’s hipbones and pulled her harder against her. Veronica moaned at the firm press of Millie’s body, the softness of her breasts contrasting with the hard muscles of her stomach. The scent of hay, salt tang of sweat, and Millie’s cologne, a mixture of cedar and sandalwood that always made Veronica think of cold winters snuggled in front of warm fireplaces, surrounded her.
They kissed softly at first, their lips and tongues exploring each other, the kiss building into more as they clung to each other. She tastes so good. So much I want with her. But not here. We need to slow down.
Veronica pulled back and looked into Millie’s eyes. “No. Not too long to wait.” She kissed Millie’s throat and the underside of her jaw. “For the saddlery.” Millie trembled under her kisses as she scattered them along her throat. She gave her the edge of her teeth, and Millie’s pulse beat a rapid tattoo under Veronica’s lips. “I’ll wait for you.” A gentle groan rattled Millie’s chest, sending a current of desire whipping through Veronica. She bit back her own moan of want as need raced through her like heat lightning.
Millie’s strong hands stroked her back on either side of her spine before they settled on her hips. She rubbed her thumbs up and down Veronica’s waist. “You would?” She kissed Veronica again, mouth fierce, and Veronica’s body responded with a rush of wet heat soaking her jeans. She wrapped her arms around Veronica and held her close, the intensity of her kiss rendering Veronica senseless. She placed a hand on Millie’s chest and eased back from the kiss, their harsh rapid breathing loud in the loft. She leaned her forehead against Millie’s chest. “As long as you need. Whenever you’re ready.”
Millie’s phone chimed, and they both groaned. Millie stepped away from her and answered the call. “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll have the car around in fifteen minutes. No, Ma’am, not working out. Helping Veronica in the stable.” She ended the call and grinned at Veronica. “What are you doing this evening, after the hay delivery?”
Veronica stepped up on a hay bale to give herself a height advantage. Millie leaned forward and nuzzled her breasts through her shirt. Veronica held her close, her hand on the back of Millie’s head, fingers rubbing the fine short hairs on the back of her neck. She held her there as she arched into her, forcing her breasts against Millie’s face. She shuddered as Millie mouthed a nipple through her shirt.
“Whatever you’re doing,” she murmured against the top of Millie’s head, loving the way her brush cut tickled her cheek.
Millie lifted her head and stared into Veronica’s eyes. “Meet me at my apartment? After supper. Please.”
The earnest plea in her voice and the way her eyes burned with desire had Veronica fighting not to come on the spot. “Yes.”
THAT EVENING’S DINNER was the longest Veronica could ever remember sitting through. Not willing to risk sitting across from Millie, she had chosen to sit next to her. Millie shifted on the bench and the long length of her muscular thigh pressed against Veronica’s leg. She willed herself not to tackle Millie and finish what had begun in the loft that afternoon. I want her so much. I’ve wanted her since she wiped the ink mark off my cheek. She pushed her food around with her fork, her stomach in knots. Thoughts of what she wanted to do with Millie, and replays of their kiss in the loft, made her shift and press her legs together in a futile attempt to stem the flow of wet heat between her legs.
“Hello, Veronica, are you in there? Pass the salt.” Benita’s teas
ing tone cut through Veronica’s haze.
“Oh. Sorry. Sure.” Veronica passed the salt to Benita who fixed her with a raised eyebrow as she took the shaker from Veronica’s hand.
Millie was engaged in conversation with Myfanwy. Welsh. Who knew it was so damn sexy? The melodious tones of her deep voice as she spoke to Myfanwy did things to Veronica, wonderful erotic things. Her voice. This is killing me. Slow. I need to slow my roll. I want more. More than a one-off. I don’t want a friend with benefits. I want more. All of it. What if she’s not into power play? Veronica sipped her water. She’d had women who were vanilla. She seemed to like it in the barn, but what if she isn’t? I wouldn’t be satisfied, not in the long term. Not going to rush into a relationship. No more U-hauls for me. Relationship. Is that what this will be? Talk. We’re going to talk first. Then it’ll be what it will be.
Veronica caught Ashley alternately glaring at her and then at Millie. She returned her hard expression, making sure she used her most fierce what-the-hell-is-your-problem look. Ashley averted her gaze, threw her napkin down, stood and left the table abruptly. Her sharp exit made a few people glance up. Most ignored her.
Benita raised her eyebrow at Veronica and quirked her mouth. “Some people are poor losers.” She shifted her gaze to Millie and then back to Veronica. Benita’s words had been said softly, but in an instant Veronica knew whatever idea she had about keeping her interest in Millie quiet was not about to happen. Not here, where everyone seems to know everything about everyone. Great. Everyone will be in our business. Veronica grimaced as she remembered navigating the ever-shifting sea of alliances during her incarceration, how hard she had to work to keep to herself, and not become embroiled in short term hookups. They had teased her, nicknaming her “the fighting nun”, but she had been tough enough and big enough to defend her choice to remain celibate. I’m free. I’m safe. I’m okay. No one here will try to force themselves on me.
Complex Dimensions Page 7
