Eve assumed the hall she’d seen off the foyer circled around to the back of the kitchen. She had to admit, she was grateful for Dusty’s departure. Relief washed through her and it must have shown.
“Try not to pay the girl any mind. You’ll get used to her,” Maggie said.
Like the Rottweiler? Eve looked down at Baxter, who watched her closely from the floor beside Maggie’s chair. She doubted it, but she only smiled.
With a clatter, Dusty appeared in the dining room, carrying a second tray. Elbows extended and chin jutting, she crossed with exaggerated strides to where they sat. “Tea for me ladies,” she said in a taut voice as she stepped between them and set the service on the table.
Maggie laughed. “You’ve missed your callin’, girl.”
“Yeah. I should have been an actress.”
“Actually, I was referrin’ to the style with which you serve.”
Eve giggled and reached for a cookie. She brought it to her mouth.
Dusty frowned. “So,” she said directly to Eve, “you gonna take the room?”
Oh, God. Eve halted mid-bite. She’s talking to me again.
Maggie poured hot water into the two cups Dusty had brought, evidently unaware of Eve’s anxiety.
“I, uh…” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t had the opportunity to enumerate the pros and cons yet.”
“Uh-huh.”
Maggie eyed Eve briefly. “We haven’t as yet discussed the room,” she said to Dusty.
“Oh. Okay. Isn’t the rest of the house great?” Dusty lifted the hem of her T-shirt and shoved her hands into the back pockets of her cutoffs. She shifted her weight to one bare leg.
“The view is astounding. Who could have imagined that all this resplendence could be found in the center of a metropolis like LA?” Eve swallowed.
Maggie stared at her with a gentle expression.
“As for the interior, I find the collection of art particularly poignant.” She gestured to the two bronze statues—Mercury and Diana—that decorated either end of the marble surface of the large mahogany buffet in the dining area.
Dusty’s gaze followed the motion. “You mean the guy in the loincloth with the wings on his feet?”
“Yes, Mercury, the Roman messenger of the gods.”
“Oh.”
“Dusty,” Maggie said. “Aren’t you goin’ in to work at noon today?”
“Work? Oh.” Dusty glanced at the clock on the bookshelf. “Jeez, yeah. I gotta get going.” With no further interest in Eve, she raced out the door and up the stairs.
Maggie dipped a tea bag into a cup of steaming water. She considered Eve for a long moment. “Would you care to tell me what on earth that was about?” She eased the mug across the table.
Eve’s cheeks heated. She felt like a fool. It was one thing to play her word games with someone like Dusty, but she’d never fool anyone like Maggie into thinking she was confident and sure of herself. She sighed, allowing her head to fall against the back of the couch. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I do that. I mean, I know why I do it, I just don’t know why…” She lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness.
“Have some tea, darlin’. It’ll help.” Maggie raised her own drink to her lips and settled back in her chair.
After several swallows of the blackberry brew, Eve looked up to meet Maggie’s patient gaze. It held understanding, acceptance. Even though she’d only just met Maggie, Eve somehow knew she could trust her. “I wanted so badly to fit in here. I’m so confused and feel as though I don’t fit even in my own life anymore. I just needed a place where I could figure out who I am.”
“This could be that very place,” Maggie said, her tone soft. “It’s been good for some.”
“That’s what Aunt Carolyn said, and I had hopes. But then Dusty had to answer the door.” She realized she spoke the name with a bite. “I was fairly sure of myself, then there she was with that grin and her snippy remarks.”
Maggie arched her brow. “I surely am aware of Dusty’s shortcomin’s, but she’s hardly the devil incarnate, now is she? What’s really the problem?”
Eve considered the question. “I don’t know. It’s just when I met her and when she came back in just now, I felt so…so…I don’t know what I felt. I’ve never felt it before.”
“Ah, so that’s it.” Maggie smiled, comprehension shaping her features. “Dusty has that effect on people. Whatever you’ve never felt before, she’ll be the one most likely to bring it out in you.”
Afraid of the repercussions the truth of that statement might have, Eve dismissed the thought. “Oh, that’s ridiculous.”
“Is it, now? Well, another possibility is that you’re findin’ yourself attracted to her, and she’s not exactly the type you’re comfortable bein’ attracted to.”
“Oh, no. That’s even more ridiculous. That feeling I do know. I’ve been attracted to people—to women—before, and believe me, they weren’t like Dusty.” She laughed and took another drink. “Besides, it’s the recognition of those feelings that’s brought me to this point already. I know I’m attracted to women. That’s what I have to think through.”
“Think, is it? In my experience it’s been feelin’s that bring me more understandin’, especially in matters of the heart.”
“Not meaning any disrespect, but I approach things from the head. I find it much more productive.”
“It sounds as though you know yourself pretty well,” Maggie said with a smile. “I’m sure since your problem with Dusty is neither of the things I suggested, you’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Above their heads, a door banged shut. Footsteps thudded on the stairs. Eve couldn’t imagine how all those little statues she’d seen from the foyer stayed in place.
Dusty stopped in the doorway wearing blue jeans and a black motorcycle jacket. She carried a helmet under one arm. “Gotta go, Maggie Mae.”
“Will you be home for supper?”
“Dunno. If there’s anything left, save it for me. Otherwise, don’t worry about it.” She finished pulling up the zipper and winked at Eve. “Maybe I’ll see you around.” The next sound was the slam of the front door.
Eve shot a pensive glance toward the point of Dusty’s departure, then turned to see Maggie watching her. Before either of them had a chance to speak, another set of footsteps sounded on the stairs, these much slower, quieter.
A few seconds later, a tall, slender woman sauntered into the room. A pair of white jeans covered her long legs, and a Green Bay Packers football jersey was tucked in at the waist. “Was that Dusty that just left?”
Maggie chuckled. “Could it have been anyone else?”
The woman smiled and crossed to the chair. She took Maggie’s hand.
“Eve, this is my partner, Addison.” Maggie gazed up into Addison’s face then kissed the back of her fingers near the ring that matched her own.
Eve hadn’t been around many female couples, and watching their affectionate interaction gave her a sense of yearning, as if the hope for something long suppressed could actually be kindled.
“Addison,” Maggie continued, “this is Eve Jacobs. She’s lookin’ at the vacant room.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Have you seen it yet?”
“No, we were just talking and getting to know each other a little. And I’ve been enjoying the beauty of your home. It’s lovely.”
“Thanks to Maggie.” Addison combed her fingers through Maggie’s hair. “She’s the one with all the style.”
Eve smiled.
“I have to run down to the office for a while, babe,” Addison said to Maggie. “I should be home for dinner, though.”
“I thought you’d planned to work at home today.”
“I did, but Michael called earlier, and he has a new client who wants to focus some advertising on the community. He asked if I could meet with them and give some suggestions.”
“All right, then,” Maggie said. “I’ll see you when you get home.”
> Addison bent and kissed her before she turned back to Eve. “It was nice meeting you. Even if you don’t take the room, I hope we see you again.”
Her words felt genuine, filled with warmth. “Thank you,” Eve said. “But I’ve already made my decision. I’ll take it.” She knew that the room, sight-unseen, would be just as beautiful and peaceful as everything else about this sanctuary—everything, that is, except Dusty Gardner. And perhaps Maggie was right. Maybe she could get used to Dusty.
Chapter Three
Addison sat at the stoplight at Lankershim and Ventura Boulevard where her lush hillside neighborhood butted up against the southeast boundary of the San Fernando Valley. The ivory leather upholstery of her Explorer felt pliant in the warmth of the mid-day sunshine, molding comfortably beneath the contours of her body. When the signal turned green, she crossed the intersection and pulled into the gas station on the opposite corner.
Bright and airy, the day should have been the kind that lifted her spirits and cleared away darker moods, but the same unsettled feeling that’d been plaguing her for several weeks held her in its tenacious grip. Her gaze traveled to the woman across the way, not exactly the whole woman, but more specifically the tanned, smooth legs that met the frayed edges of snug Levi shorts.
Addison pulled the release lever for the fuel tank and slipped out from the driver’s seat. She rounded the back of the vehicle and swiped her credit card through the automatic payment slot, trying to keep her eyes focused on what she was doing.
“Nice wheels. I love that shade of green,” the woman called from the other side of the pumps. Her broad smile shone in contrast to her sun-darkened flesh, and a tie-dyed bandana that matched her tank top held back her strawberry-blond hair.
“Thanks.” Addison searched for something to say about the dented and primer-splotched MG the woman stood beside. It looked like it might have been yellow in a previous life. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
It seemed to be enough of an invitation for the other woman. “Gorgeous.” She crossed the island and walked toward Addison. “My ex had an Explorer, but it was much older, and, even then, she never could’ve afforded the Eddie Bauer edition.”
Ah, she—the all-important pronoun. Addison sometimes pondered just how many unasked questions could be answered with such a small word. She inserted the nozzle into the tank and locked it into position. “Ever wonder who Eddie Bauer is?” She grinned. “I mean, I know he’s always associated with the luxury version of everything—cars, furniture, clothes. But who the hell is he?”
The redhead laughed. “Somebody very spoiled.” She appeared to consider Addison, then forged ahead. “Do you live around here, or did you just pull off the freeway?”
“I live right up the hill.” Addison motioned across the street. “You?”
“No, I have an apartment in North Hollywood. I started waiting tables at Miceli’s last week.” She pointed down the road in the direction of the Italian restaurant. “I just picked up my schedule.”
“Oh, really? I’ve eaten there a number of times. It’s a pretty good place.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Twelve years.”
The woman nodded as if summing up the information she’d been receiving. “My name’s Brenda, by the way.”
“Addison Rae-McInnis.” Addison extended her hand.
Brenda shook it with a tentative grip. Her attention seemed otherwise occupied, and obvious surprise showed in her raised eyebrows. “Rae-McInnis? Is that hyphenated?” She glanced down at the rainbow sticker on the bumper of the Explorer.
“Yeah, my partner, Maggie’s, last name was McInnis, mine was Rae. We just put them together and both took the same name.”
“Oh,” Brenda said, with a puzzled expression. “Are you still with her?”
“Well, yes.” Addison paused, a little confused. “Why?”
Brenda studied her and smiled. “It’s just that you don’t come off as being unavailable.” A glint of intrigue flashed in her blue eyes. “Are you?”
The gas pump clicked off. Addison stood staring at Brenda. What does she mean I don’t come off as being unavailable? I just told her I’m with someone. Of course I’m unavailable. She laughed more out of politeness than amusement. “I’ve been with Maggie for twelve years. I think that makes me pretty unavailable.”
“Not necessarily. I’ve known a lot of people in long-term relationships who are very available for certain things.” Brenda’s gaze traveled down Addison’s figure and back up to her face. It almost seemed she was more interested now than before. “There’s nothing saying we can’t just have some fun.”
An almost unrecognizable pang wriggled through the pit of her stomach, no, lower. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced in years. It felt dangerous, yet exciting. The mere possibility of an afternoon of casual sex with this woman conjured flashes of images in Addison’s mind, stirred responses in her body. Then she envisioned Maggie.
What was she thinking? She loved Maggie. Their life together meant everything to her. “I, uh…” She forced her focus back to Brenda. “I’m sorry, I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” Brenda tilted her head. Laughter played in her eyes.
“I mean, no. No, thanks. I’m in a committed relationship.”
Brenda’s smile broadened. “If you don’t mind my saying so, I kind of see that commitment slipping. And when it does…” She turned but kept her gaze fixed on Addison. “Come by Miceli’s.”
Addison stared after her. She couldn’t let her think that. “No, really. I’m not interested. And I won’t be later.” Why did it matter to her what this woman thought?
Brenda stopped with her hand on the open driver’s side door. She watched Addison for a long moment. “Well, if that is the case, you might want to work the word we into your conversations.” She slipped in behind the wheel and started the engine. “It’ll avoid misunderstandings,” she called over her shoulder with a grin, then stepped on the gas.
As Addison watched the MG turn onto the busy street and disappear beneath the freeway overpass, her emotions began to calm, but her mind still raced. What was that about? Nobody’s hit on me in ages. Maybe that’s the reason it had caught her so off guard. She had always just assumed it was due to the fact that she was getting older and didn’t look the way she used to. But Dusty had said something a while back, that day Addison and Maggie had argued about fish food…or filters—something to do with the koi pond, something stupid. There’d been that woman in the supply store Addison couldn’t stop sneaking looks at, and she’d ended up feeling unsettled and, somehow, unattractive. And when she was getting down on herself, what had Dusty said? She recalled the conversation.
“Are you kidding?” Dusty’s tone had been incredulous. “Women notice you all the time. You’re the one who doesn’t see anything—or anyone.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure. That’s why I get so many propositions, isn’t it?” Addison laughed at the idea.
“You don’t get offers because you don’t give out those kind of signals.”
Addison chuckled. “What’re you talking about?” For a while now, Dusty had been coming home with some interesting bits of wisdom, usually from her friend Rebecca, but this one sounded more out there. Addison didn’t see herself giving out any signal at all.
“The signals. You know, those little vibes that go out into the room and tap women on the shoulder saying, ‘Hey, look my way. I got something special to show you.’” She lifted an eyebrow in a suggestive arch and leaned back in her chair. “Everything you put out says, ‘I’m in love with Maggie Mae, and I show her all my special stuff.’”
“What’s wrong with that? I am in love with Maggie.”
“Of course you are, and nothing’s wrong with it. But if a woman’s looking for a good time or even something more, she’s not gonna waste her moves on someone who’s not in the market for the same thing. I’m just saying. It’s all in the signals. You get back what you
put out.”
A horn honked, jarring Addison out of the past. “Hey, lady,” a man yelled from the car that’d pulled up behind her. “If you’re making a career out of this, you wanna fill me up?”
With a start, she jerked the nozzle from her tank. “Sorry,” she called. “I’ll be done in a second.” She quickly replaced the gas cap and climbed into the driver’s seat.
Once again at the intersection, she glanced toward the freeway entrance and thought of Brenda. Had she gotten on the 170? Without hesitation, Addison decided to take Ventura Boulevard all the way to the office. The last thing she wanted was to somehow catch up to the MG. But why?
She remembered Brenda’s advice. You might want to work the word we into your conversations. Addison had always talked about herself and Maggie as a couple. She even thought in those terms. Yet today, apparently, she hadn’t.
The signal changed, and she pressed the accelerator. The Explorer eased into motion, and Addison instinctively took control. Her mind was on its own journey, though.
She considered her years with Maggie. They’d had some difficult times, but nothing like many of their friends had experienced. Their biggest hardships had occurred during the addition of the master suite and art studio on the third level of the house and a period of Baxter’s puppyhood during which he’d decided to chew up and bury anything and everything he could find that belonged to Addison, including her leather-bound art kit. They’d survived both, though. They’d never disagreed on the important relationship issues that many couples struggled with, least of all, monogamy and trust. That was Dusty’s arena.
Her thoughts returned to Dusty and her stories of freedom, the excitement of exploring a new lover every time, but Addison didn’t want that. She wanted Maggie. She wanted familiarity, the true intimacy that comes from waking up together each morning and going to bed together each night.
Something dark, something disturbing, snaked through her, coiling in her gut. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She’d had this feeling before but had always pushed it aside, buried it to keep it dormant. Maybe it was time to look at it.
Threads of the Heart Page 3
