"I called him from my cell as soon as I was sure you were okay," Jamie said. "The whole family was watching the game together. It was on Fox, remember?"
"Oh, right." She was making a sour face as she dialed, and Jamie watched her do so, her stomach clenching with tension as she considered that the incident had taken place a week ago, and was still managing to be just as newsworthy as it had been then. "Thanks, honey," she said, forcing a smile as she waited for someone to pick up.
After Ryan was finished calming her family down, Jamie got on the phone and worked on her side of the family for a while. After she finished talking to her father, grandfather and Mia, she looked at her watch and saw that it was nearly midnight. "It’s early in Italy, but I’m gonna call my mom," she said. "She’ll see this on CNN if she tunes in and I don’t want her to freak."
"I’m gonna go soak in the tub," Ryan said. "Come join me when you’re finished. Oh, and be sure to tell your mom I love her."
"I always do," Jamie said.
Early the next morning, Jamie sat on the edge of the tub and once again dialed her mother’s number. "Buon giorno," she said in greeting.
"Hello, sweetheart," Catherine said. "Did you sleep well?"
"Better, but still not great. Being with Ryan helps a lot. I know you’re worried about her, so I thought I’d let you know that she got a decent nights rest, too."
"I’m worried about both of you," Catherine said. "I’m still not sure I did the right thing coming over here."
"You can be home in a day if we need you, Mom. Being in Italy soothes your soul. I think you need that right now."
"I do," she admitted, "but being away from you is hard."
"It’s hard for me, too, but I’d be worried about you if you were down in Hillsborough. The reporters would really drive you mad."
"Oh, Jamie, surely they’ve given up by now!"
"No, apparently they haven’t. I called Marta last night to tell her that Ryan was okay, and she said that she drove by yesterday. She said they’re all around the front entrance. I told her to not even think about going back until they’re all gone."
"Thank you for that, honey. There’s nothing for her to do, anyway, other than take in the mail."
"The mailman will hold it if there’s too much. Don’t worry about it."
"Oh, I don’t," Catherine said. "The last week has taught me a lesson, Jamie. Those petty concerns of life are truly meaningless. All that matters is the people that you love."
Their flight to Miami was close to the time that the team flight left for San Francisco, so Ryan graciously accepted Coach Hayes’ offer to ride with the group to the airport. Once they were in their seats, Jamie giggled, "I feel like I’ve been let into the inner sanctum."
"Near as I can tell, you’re the first person who’s not affiliated with the team to ever ride on the bus," Ryan said. "I hope you feel appropriately special."
Coach Hayes came ambling down the aisle, and she stretched out in the seat just in front of the pair, giving them a surprisingly warm smile. "Are you feeling okay, Ryan? That was some tumble you took last night."
"Yeah, I’m fine," she said. "Luckily, I had time to curl myself up into a little ball to avoid hitting my head. That would have been nasty."
"Everything okay upstairs?" she asked, tapping her own head.
The coach shot a quick glance at Jamie, and Ryan said, "I told her what happened after the Wake Forest game."
"I’m worried about you," the coach said quietly. "Do you often use alcohol to cope?"
"No, no, I don’t," Ryan said. "The sleeping pills just whacked me out, Coach. I’m very susceptible to things like that. I never should have taken them."
"I uhm … feel like the world’s biggest asshole for even asking this," the coach said, "but I’d really like it if you’d come to the rest of our away games, Jamie. I don’t think Ryan should be alone more than she has to be."
"We’re stuck like glue," the blonde replied. "She’s not getting out of my sight."
Rolling her eyes, Ryan said, "I’ll be fine once the hoopla has died down. With any luck, things will be normal by the time we get home. Once I can focus again, I’m sure I’ll feel just fine."
"I hope you two enjoy yourselves," the coach said. "I can’t think of anyone who needs a vacation more than you do."
"Thanks," Ryan said, smiling as the woman made her way back to her seat.
"Weird," Jamie said. "Who’s the real Mary Hayes? That one’s positively sweet!"
Part 4
"Ryan, if you don’t take your nose away from the window, you’ll break it if we have a bumpy landing." Jamie was peering at her partner from the seat behind Ryan’s, the narrow plane necessitating that they sit single file.
"Don’t you love tiny planes?" the dark-haired woman asked, her voice nearly giddy. "It’s like you’re really flying!"
"We are flying, love," Jamie gently said.
"No, no," Ryan said, trying to make her point understood. "It’s like you’re flying … rather than a plane flying you."
"I guess I can see your point," she said. "You do feel a lot more in one of these little guys."
"This is one thing I’d love to learn how to do," Ryan said, her excitement nearly bubbling over.
"We can’t afford it," Jamie said to the back of her head, uttering that phrase for the first time in their relationship.
"WHOA!" Ryan’s face was plastered against the glass as the plane made a steep, banked turn. But she wasn’t commenting on the turn … she was commenting on the beautiful island that had just come into view. "Oh, baby!"
"Looks pretty nice," Jamie said, peering out the window.
"I can’t see!" Mia said.
"Shoulda picked the right side of the plane," Ryan said. "You got first choice."
"You’ll see plenty when we land," Jordan said. "I won’t let you miss a thing."
"Who am I kidding? You’re the only thing I want to see," Mia turned and smiled at the slight blush that colored Jordan’s pale cheeks. "You’ve been inside so much you lost all of your tan. I hope you don’t burn this weekend."
"Not to worry. I generally don’t burn, but I brought a lot of sun block, just in case. You can put it on me," she said, her voice dropping to send a tingle down Mia’s spine.
After a few good bounces, the small plane finally skidded to a halt, and the excited tourists climbed down the stairs and into a very warm, salt-infused breeze. "Thank you, Jesus!" Ryan cried as soon as the tropical air hit her lungs.
"What are you crying about, Boomer?" Jordan asked. "I’ve been ass-deep in snow for a month!"
"True, but I’ve been ass-deep in reporters. I’ll take the snow any day."
"I think we’re safe here," Jamie said tentatively, looking around the small airport terminal. "I don’t see a news van or a satellite dish anywhere."
"Jamers, I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again … you and your mother have the best ideas in the whole world!" As they walked out to hail a taxi, Ryan could feel some of the tension and stress she had been carrying begin to float away. She conjured up the mental image of letting the stress rise from her body and float up to the ceiling of the terminal, then turned and gave the ceiling a stern look, growling under her breath, "And stay there!"
"For such a short distance, we sure have been in a lot of vehicles!" Ryan said as they got into their third. The first phase of their trip was in a cab from the airport to the ferry. From there, the short ferry ride placed them on Harbor Island, and now they were in their last conveyance – a cab headed for their hotel.
"I haven’t been here before, so this is new to me, too," Jamie said.
"We’re gonna have a blast, aren’t we, Jordy?" Mia declared, smiling at her partner.
"Jordy?" Ryan asked, grinning wickedly. "Did you say Jordy?"
Mia pinched the pale cheek of her lover, beaming a smile at her. "Doesn’t she look like a Jordy?"
"She does indeed," Ryan said, always happy to have another weapon in her teasing arsen
al. "She’s just a little Jordy-Poo."
"Wow." Ryan was on her fourth tour of their two-bedroom cottage, and so far that was the only word that had come out of her mouth.
"Honey, you’ve wowed your way around the whole place. Is that all you’ve got to say?"
"Wow." The dark-haired woman walked out onto their teak deck, the wind off the ocean blowing her hair straight back off her forehead. She stood at the railing, the spa bubbling quietly next to her, and looked across the wide pink sand beach, into the crystal clear waters of the ocean.
When Jamie came up next to her, Ryan’s arm encircled her shoulders. "I have never been so happy to be anywhere in my life," she said, letting out a heavy sigh. As she filled her lungs with salt-air, her eyes grew wide and she hastily amended, "Except for Pebble Beach, of course."
"That’s a given," Jamie said, patting her side.
"I’ve never felt as stressed as I have this past week," Ryan said softly, her voice barely audible as it competed with the snapping of the fabric on the beach umbrellas on their private deck. "I hate to think of what would have happened if we’d had to go back home after that debacle in North Carolina. Knowing we were coming here was the only thing that got me through that last game."
"It’s just bad luck that this all happened during your season. Having to give those vultures the opportunity to get at you is just sickening."
"Yeah. Thank God you’re not playing your golf season now. You’d be shooting scores up in my range!"
"Well, we’re here now, and we’re not moving for three whole nights. And since you’ve had the harder time lately, you get to choose what we do. I’ll go along with anything … surfing, snorkeling, rock climbing, horseback riding, deep sea fishing, sailing, kayaking …"
Ryan placed her fingertips on her lips and said, "You … me … a tropical drink … two beach chairs … that’s it."
"That’s all you want to do for three days?" Jamie was certain that her partner was kidding. Ryan had an insatiable curiosity for places she had never been, and the smaller woman figured she would want to explore every inch of the small island.
"I would prefer to just stay on this deck, but I’m going to extend myself and go all the way down there," Ryan said, pointing to the ocean … not 500 yards away.
"You’re the boss. If you want to lie on a lounge chair for three days, I’m your woman."
They went into the cottage where Jordan and Mia were already lying on their bed, their bodies fully entwined. Ryan reached in to close their door, quietly saying, "We’re going to the beach. Enjoy!"
She smirked at her partner as she headed into their room. "Were we all over each other when we were first together?"
"Some observers would say we’re all over each other now. Is your memory that poor?"
"No. It just seems like we’ve been together forever, you know? Seeing people just starting out reminds me of how much we’ve grown in the last few months."
"Just over six months," Jamie said. "We’re gonna have to have a big celebration for our anniversary."
"Sounds good to me. A celebration with you always includes good food, a lot of kissing and a lot of bare skin. Who’s gonna argue?"
"Speaking of bare skin, here’s a little present I bought for you." Jamie tossed her partner two pieces of fabric, and Ryan caught them defensively when Jamie’s aim was a little high.
"A new suit?"
"Yeah. I thought you’d look cute in that color."
"It’s nice," Ryan said.
"It’s called raspberry. The top covers your tummy," she said. "I know you don’t burn much, but your cute little tummy hasn’t seen the sun since September, and I don’t want you to hurt your precious skin."
Ryan wrestled herself into the new suit and modeled for her partner. The tone on tone print -- in a color very reminiscent of the berry – becomingly flattered Ryan’s body. The camisole-style top sported a deep v-neckline and sturdy spaghetti straps, designed to stay up even while surfing. The bottoms, which the manufacturer called "surf riders," featured square cut legs with a one-inch inseam. The suit was made by a company that specialized in surfing gear for women, and Ryan decided that the ensemble would fill the bill very nicely.
"Those bottoms are for when you’re active, like surfing or snorkeling," Jamie informed her. "They’re long enough so they won’t ride up on you – since I know that’s your pet peeve."
"Indeed it is," Ryan said. "Bottoms that ride up are pure evil."
Jamie stuck her hand back into her suitcase and held out another pair of bottoms and dangled them in front of Ryan. "Can we play little dress-up games on the beach?" she asked tauntingly, a sexy smile affixed to her face.
"I suppose so," Ryan said. She held up the bottoms, her eyes widening when she saw how little fabric there was. "Oh my! Will you protect my virtue when I’m out in public in this?"
"I’ll protect yours if you’ll protect mine," Jamie said. She started to put her own new suit on, but was almost forced to stop by a very interested pair of hands.
"Oh, Jamie," Ryan moaned, "I’ve never seen so much of you put on display … I can’t guarantee that I won’t get into a fight with the first guy who leers at you."
"Do you like it?" the blonde asked. "That’s all that matters."
Ryan started to walk around her slowly, her head swiveling up and down to assess her partner’s look from every angle. The suit was also a print … at least Ryan assumed it was. There was so little of it that the pattern barely had space to repeat, but she assumed that it was, indeed, a pattern. The background was somewhere between melon and peach, and that contrasted beautifully with the second color--a sunny yellow.
Every time Ryan tried to walk around her partner, she had to stop as soon as she saw her from the back. Four thin bands of material were all that covered Jamie’s … assets. One band looped around her neck, and another mid-back, working together to hold up the top. A third came just above the swell of her cheeks, and the fourth bisected the lush mounds, making Ryan’s mouth begin to water. That was the full extent of coverage, and Ryan decided that from that day forward, all other clothing was really superfluous. If Jamie could wear this and not be arrested, why on earth would she ever choose to wear more?
Blinking slowly, Ryan finally made a complete circle, pausing to gaze at her from the front for a long time. The suit consisted of two tiny swatches of the print fabric, just barely covering her perky nipples and a portion of her breast, and another little triangle that made the suit vaguely decent.
"Honey, you honestly look like you’re gonna drool," the blonde said. "Do you like it that much, or have you had a stroke?"
"Both, I think," Ryan murmured, unable to keep her hands to herself. "Are you just trying to cut down on foreplay? ‘Cause ya have," she said. "I’m good to go."
"It’s a little early for that, because I have big plans for you for later tonight. You just slip into those tiny little bottoms, and we’ll have a nice afternoon … simmering in the sun."
"Oh, I’m simmering already," Ryan growled.
"Easy, Tiger," her partner said. "We’ve got a long day, and a longer night, ahead of us."
"Jamie?" Ryan said as she batted her big blue eyes at her partner.
"Yes, love?"
"Will you go get me some more conch chowder?"
"Sure. There’s a waiter right over there. I’ll call him."
"No," she said, "I’d like it better if you went." She was trying to look innocent, but her act always backfired, making her look especially decadent.
"You just want to watch me walk over there, Ryan. I’m on to your tricks." She leaned over and kissed her partner lightly and said, "I love every one of them, too." She got up, giving Ryan an additional hip thrust for good measure, and walked back to the small carry-out restaurant that the hotel maintained right on the beach.
When she returned, Ryan thanked her profusely, her devilish grin unstoppable. The dark-haired woman ate her soup with profound pleasure, having decided that conch
should be one of the four basic food groups. When she finished, she smiled over at Jamie and said, "One more plate of those chicken skewers with mango and ginger, and I’ll be satisfied."
"Ryan," Jamie’s uncharacteristically deep voice asked, "did you know that you wanted the chicken when you sent me for the soup?"
"Uh-huh." Big blue eyes danced merrily, giving the woman the appearance of a mischievous twelve-year-old.
"And you think that’s funny, don’t you?" Jamie asked sternly.
"No, it’s not funny," Ryan said. Now her blue eyes darkened, and she took on the appearance of a woman … a woman who had romance on her mind. Their chairs were touching along their lengths, and as Ryan spoke she leaned over so far that she was more on Jamie’s chaise than her own. "When you walk across that deep sand, you have to sway your hips more than usual. Watching your body move when you walk that way is one of the most erotic things I’ve ever seen. The first time you walked over there, it was all I could do to not slip my fingers into this tiny suit and bring myself off," she growled.
Jamie rolled onto her side, her face just inches from Ryan’s. She traced her features with a finger, smiling when Ryan’s eyes fluttered closed. "What about the second time?" she asked softly.
In response, Ryan grinned rakishly and averred, "I refuse to answer on the grounds that my answer might tend to incriminate me."
Jamie blinked and asked, "Ryan! You didn’t touch yourself in public!"
"No, I didn’t," she said. "But you made me so hot I almost had one of those rare spontaneous combustions."
"You are randy today," the blonde said. "Just the way I like you." She got up again and said, "Luckily, I love you enough to walk back and forth across this sand all afternoon if it pleases you."
"Ooo, it pleases me … Yes, indeed, it pleases me," Ryan said as she rolled onto her stomach and placed her head on her braced arms to watch the show.
When Jamie returned, her partner was just as she had left her, and her dark sunglasses could not hide the decided leer that had settled on her face. "I honestly don’t know if I like you better coming or going."
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