Wrong Number, Right Woman

by Jae

“Anytime,” Denny answered.

  One of the craft tenders wandered over, forcing Eliza to tear her gaze away from Denny’s hands. “How is it going?” he asked. “Do you need any help?”

  Denny glanced up from the bracelet. “No, thanks.” She rested a hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “She’s a crafting pro. She’s got me.”

  He gave Eliza a respectful nod, but her attention was on Denny and the warm hand on her shoulder. She’s got me. The words echoed through her mind. Do I?

  “Great.” He looked at Eliza’s project—which hadn’t gotten past the first two steps since she’d been busy watching Denny—but said nothing. “Have fun, then.”

  Oops. Maybe she should shift the ratio of watching Denny versus working on her own project, or she would end up with a half-finished wallet. Eliza folded the piece of leather, dampened the crease with a splash of water, and clamped it into place. “And you called me distracting,” she muttered.

  Denny threaded another turquoise bead. “Pardon me?”

  “Um, I said the sangria is really distracting. I’d better limit myself to one glass while I’m working with sharp tools. I don’t want to lose a finger.”

  Denny’s gaze went to her fingers and lingered there. “No. We definitely don’t want that.”

  The rasp in her voice sent a shiver down Eliza’s body. She flicked a bit of water from the bowl on the table at her.

  “Hey!” A few drops beaded on Denny’s black-framed glasses.

  Eliza grinned. “Just providing some help with cooling you off.”

  “Oh yeah?” Denny dipped her fingers into the bowl and shot a spray of water at her. “You look as if you could use some help with that too.”

  They flicked water back and forth until one of the craft tenders looked in their direction.

  Like two kids caught misbehaving in school, they immediately pretended to be focused on their projects.

  “You’re getting me into trouble,” Denny whispered out of the corner of her mouth. But she didn’t look as if she minded at all. A glint of mischief sparked in her eyes.

  Eliza loved seeing her so relaxed and unselfconscious. She had a feeling Denny had never been like this on any other date—and, truth be told, neither had she. After kissing a lot of frogs, she might just have found her prince…who was actually a princess.

  Denny had to park two blocks from Eliza’s building, but she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she wouldn’t have minded walking all the way from North Portland if she got to spend more time with Eliza.

  At the front door, they paused and turned to face each other.

  “So,” Denny said, “how does this date compare to last week’s?”

  Eliza tapped her bottom lip in a thoughtful gesture, drawing Denny’s gaze to her mouth. “Hmm. Hard to tell.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “I loved the DIY Bar, and I love my bracelet,” Eliza trailed her fingertips over the leather bracelet with the turquoise beads wrapped around her wrist, “but I can’t give this date a final score until I’ve had my good-night kiss.”

  A smile broke across Denny’s face. It was wonderful to know Eliza was just as much looking forward to a kiss as she was. “Well, in the interest of getting a final score, I guess we’d better check off the kiss requirement.”

  Eliza hummed her approval.

  They both leaned forward, and their lips came together in a kiss that was soft and tender. But then Denny angled her head and deepened the kiss, igniting the passion between them.

  Eliza’s low moan was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. Her hands found Denny’s hips and pulled her closer until their bodies touched from thighs to chest.

  Oh sweet mother of… Now Denny was the one moaning. God, she couldn’t believe how good Eliza’s body felt against her own. She allowed one of her hands to caress the small of Eliza’s back while she moved the other upward to play with her hair and trail along her neck.

  Eliza gasped into her mouth and broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “A ten.”

  “Huh?” Numbers were beyond the capacity of Denny’s brain right now. Every cell in her body was still focused on the sensations the kiss had sparked.

  “The date,” Eliza said. “It’s definitely a ten.”

  Denny kissed the corner of her mouth because she couldn’t help herself. “Yeah. It was a ten for me too. Or more like a twelve out of ten.”

  They stood close, their bodies touching for several moments longer, then Denny took a step back on shaky legs. She really should get going before they ended up making a spectacle of themselves in public. But tearing herself away from Eliza was getting harder and harder every time they got together.

  “Do you want to come up?” Eliza’s gaze was still hazy as she pointed at the front door.

  Denny’s mouth went dry. “Um…” A part of her wanted to say “hell, yes,” but were they ready for that? Was Eliza ready, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too?

  Eliza’s passionate response had been a surprise—a very welcome surprise—but Denny knew as much as she wanted to, she shouldn’t move too quickly. She was starting to hope that their relationship could work out after all, and she didn’t want her overeager libido to ruin it. She gave Eliza a regretful look. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  A giggle burst from Eliza’s chest. “Just to see my apartment and talk a little. Coming up is not code for anything. I’m just not ready for our date to end, especially since I’ll be in San Francisco on a business trip with my bosses for most of next week.”

  “Oh.” Denny’s cheeks burned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to assume—”

  “Trust me; you’ve got nothing to apologize for. My libido thinks coming up should be code for something—preferably for coming.”

  A heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment surged through Denny’s body. Jesus. Eliza’s suggestive comment wasn’t exactly helping her to hold back.

  Eliza reached for her hand. “Come on. It might be a bit too soon to sate one of our desires, but it’s the perfect time to satisfy another. I didn’t notice while we were busy crafting, but now I’m really getting hungry. Let’s order a pizza.”

  “All right. But it’s still my turn to pay. I need to break in my new wallet after all.” Denny let herself be pulled inside the building and followed Eliza up the stairs.

  Eliza unlocked a door on the second floor, flicked on the light, and then stepped aside to let Denny enter first.

  Denny walked in and looked around.

  Admittedly, Eliza’s apartment was small, but Denny liked it instantly. With its high ceilings and a three-sided bay window, it didn’t appear claustrophobic at all. A big, cream-colored easy chair and a reading lamp stood in front of the window, where Eliza had a great view of the park, and Denny could imagine her curled up with the afternoon sun lighting her face.

  The worn, plum-colored couch didn’t match the easy chair, but that only added to the charm of her place. A wooden coffee table was pulled close to it, as if Eliza sometimes put her feet up after a long day at work. Eliza’s craftwork was everywhere: an unfinished project was strewn over the small desk in the corner, and the bookshelves sitting to both sides of the TV were crowded with cute animals on rocks and other figurines.

  Comfort and warmth permeated the studio apartment.

  But there was one thing missing—and in her current state, maybe that was a good thing. She turned toward Eliza and gave her a questioning look. “Bed?”

  Eliza laughed, a throaty sound that moved over Denny’s skin like a sensual tickle. “Didn’t we just agree that ‘coming up’ isn’t code for anything?”

  “Um, what?” Still distracted by the effect of Eliza’s laugh on her senses, Denny needed a few seconds to catch up with her train of thought. “No, no. I wasn’t… It’s just… There’s no bed, and this doesn’t look like a sleeper couch.”

  “It’s not.” Eliza crossed the room toward the built-in cabinet with amber panes and pulled out a huge drawer at the bottom
. “I’ve got a pull-out bed.”

  “How cool is that?”

  Eliza nodded and smiled. “So, do you like it?” She swept her arm in a gesture that included the entire apartment.

  “I like it a lot. It’s very…you.”

  “I like it too. If I ever win the lottery, I’d have a separate room with a big worktable, like the DIY Bar had. But for now, this suits me just fine.”

  Eliza’s contentment with life and the sense of feeling at ease with herself, shortcomings and all, were part of what Denny liked so much about her.

  “Make yourself comfortable while I call the pizza place,” Eliza said. “You like artichoke hearts and spinach too, right?”

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Great. We’ve achieved pizza topping compatibility, then.”

  Denny sat on the couch and watched Eliza move around the kitchenette to pull out glasses while she ordered their pizza. Seeing her in her home, totally relaxed, felt special.

  After placing the order, Eliza put the phone down, carried the glasses over, and sat on the couch next to Denny. “Water okay? I think I have some Coke too if you’d rather—”

  “No, water is fine.” Denny already felt a bit buzzed with Eliza’s closeness; she didn’t need any caffeine on top of that. She looked around again. “How long have you lived here?”

  “About five years. I moved in on one of the rare snowy days. And when I say ‘snowy,’ I mean more than the few flurries that usually give our fellow Portlanders heart palpitations.” Eliza chuckled. “That’s how I met Heather. My dad backed the moving truck into her car.”

  “That’s a memorable first meeting; I have to give you that.”

  “Luckily, it was only a dent, and she was a good sport about it. Even helped me move in.”

  Denny was glad Eliza had a friend like that in her life. “So you’ve been friends ever since?”

  “Pretty much. She’s been really good for me, encouraging me to go out and socialize more, when I would have stayed home alone. She even dragged me to a gay bar a couple of times.”

  “Would you believe I’ve never been to one?” Denny said.

  Eliza opened her eyes comically wide, the way Denny had earlier when Eliza had revealed that she didn’t like beer. “You’ve never, ever been to a gay bar? Don’t they take away your lesbian card?”

  “Now that you mention it, I did get a letter from headquarters, warning me my membership might be revoked.”

  “Oh no.” Eliza clutched her chest in such an exaggerated fashion that Denny struggled to keep her grave expression. “Is there nothing that can be done?”

  “Well, they did say that they could waive the gay-bar requirement under certain conditions.”

  “Which are?”

  Denny raised her index finger, ticking off the first point. “Going on at least three successful dates with a woman in a three-month period.”

  “Hmm, since even the first time we met somehow felt like a date, I think we can consider that requirement fulfilled.”

  Denny stared. “It felt like that to you too?”

  “I didn’t consciously think so at the time, but I knew it didn’t feel like making a new friend.”

  “For me neither. I had to remind myself every ten seconds that it wasn’t a date.”

  Eliza painted a check mark in the air with her finger. “That’s a check, then. Is there another condition?”

  “Sharing at least three hot kisses with an equally hot woman within a twenty-four-hour window.”

  “Hmm.” Eliza playfully tapped her chin. “Did they say who gets to judge the required hotness of the woman?”

  “Me,” Denny said in a decisive tone. “Only me.”

  “So in your expert opinion, would I qualify?” Eliza spread her arms wide as if to invite an inspection.

  Denny made a show of running her gaze over Eliza, but even if she tried, she wouldn’t have been able to pretend she was an objective judge. “You’re way overqualified.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  Their gazes caught in an intense tangle.

  Denny wasn’t sure who moved first, but the distance between them shrank to a few inches.

  Eliza slid her hand up Denny’s shoulder and around to the back of her neck.

  The way her fingers played with the short hair there made Denny’s temperature skyrocket. A tug in her belly made her move even closer, and all she could think about was kissing Eliza, drinking her in with all her senses.

  Just as she dipped her head to meet her lips, the doorbell rang, startling them apart.

  “Jesus!” Denny’s heart thumped against her ribs. “Whoever that is, can we kill them?”

  “Well, it’s probably the pizza, and they frown on killing the delivery person.” Eliza got up and smoothed her hands down her jeans in a way that looked incredibly sexy.

  Admittedly, Denny thought everything about her was sexy, including the way she breathed. “All right.” She followed Eliza to the door and pulled out her new wallet. Earlier, she had swapped the contents of her old wallet into the new one, and now she smoothed her fingers over the soft, chocolate-brown leather. “They can stay alive—but only if I get a kiss later.”

  “Well, if it saves a life…” Eliza brushed her lips against Denny’s in a promise of more to come, then swung open the door.

  As the scent of melted cheese wafted up through the cardboard in Eliza’s hands, her stomach gave an enthusiastic growl, but the rest of her body wasn’t as happy with the interruption. Kissing Denny could quickly become addictive, and she loved their playful back-and-forth just as much.

  “Did I lose all track of time, or were they extra fast?” Denny asked as Eliza carried the pizza to the coffee table.

  “Maybe a little of both. They’re just down the street. The pizza is from the Italian place where I had the date with that guy whose dog had appendicitis.” That had been only two months ago, yet it felt like a lifetime. So much had changed since then.

  Denny slid their glasses to the side so she could place the pizza on the table. “Ugh. I still don’t get why he faked an emergency to get out of your date. I’ve never had as much fun with anyone else I’ve dated before. It’s so wonderful how we can laugh but also talk about deep, emotional stuff, without fear of being judged.”

  Hearing Denny say that made Eliza go all gooey inside. She got plates and served them each a big slice of steaming pizza. “Same here. But to be fair, I’m not sure I was like that with him. That date felt so stilted, he probably thought I was the most boring person in all of Oregon.”

  Denny paused with the pizza halfway to her mouth. “I still think he’s a fool, but you know what? I kinda love hearing that this,” she used the pizza to point back and forth between them, “is different for you. Well, beyond the obvious.”

  “Which is?”

  “Um, me being a woman.”

  Eliza couldn’t help chuckling at herself. “Oh, that.” She took a bite of the pizza. Yum. Melted cheese, spinach, and the lemony aftertaste of the artichoke hearts were the perfect combination.

  “Yeah, that.” Denny laughed too, but the expression in her eyes was serious. “Is that really not a big deal for you?”

  Wasn’t it? Eliza licked tomato sauce off her lip and considered it for a moment. “It kind of is and isn’t at the same time.”

  Denny twirled her finger, indicating for her to go on as she listened attentively. Her gaze clung to Eliza’s lips in the most distracting way.

  “Being with you is surprisingly easy and comfortable,” Eliza said.

  “Comfortable?” Denny smacked her lips as if the word left a weird taste in her mouth. “That sounds like you’re comparing me to an old pair of sneakers.”

  Eliza elbowed her. “Hey, I happen to love this old pair of sneakers.” She wiggled her sneaker-covered feet.

  Denny glanced at them with a fond smile and tapped Eliza’s foot with her own. “Me too. But sometimes, you want to have sexy heels or g
ood-looking Italian loafers instead of a comfy pair of sneakers.”

  “I didn’t say comfortable is the only thing you’re making me feel.” Eliza’s voice dipped lower. “You’re like an entire closet full of shoes, ranging from flip-flops to heels.”

  Denny chuckled. “Leave it to a femme to come up with a shoe metaphor to describe her emotions.”

  “Femme?” Eliza had never thought to apply that term to herself. But then again, she had also never thought she could be anything but straight. “Is that what you think I am?”

  “Well, you’re not butch.”

  “Do I have to be one or the other?”

  Denny smiled and took her hand. “No. Just be yourself.”

  “I am when I’m with you.” God, they were really getting mushy. Eliza gave Denny’s knee a playful nudge with her own. “Besides, you were the one who started the shoe metaphors, not me.”

  “Oops.” Denny reached for another slice of pizza with her free hand but never let go of Eliza’s. “So, what’s the part of being with a woman that is a big deal for you?”

  “Maybe not a big deal, but there are some things that’ll take some getting used to. Like how people are reacting. Or how I think people will react.” Eliza dabbed at a spot of tomato sauce on her plate. “I admit I still feel a little self-conscious about holding your hand or kissing you in public.”

  “We don’t have to—”

  “No.” Eliza held on as Denny tried to withdraw her hand. “We have the same right to be affectionate as any other couple. I’m training myself to ignore people’s reactions.”

  A crooked grin tugged up one corner of Denny’s mouth. “Training, hmm? Well, any time you need a practice session, let me know. But seriously, thank you for being honest. I never want you to pretend you’re okay with something when you’re not.”

  Eliza sighed happily. God, she couldn’t have asked for a better person to go through not-quite-straight puberty with. “I won’t. Stop worrying so much.”

  “I can’t. It matters too much.” More quietly, Denny added, “You matter too much.”

  They looked into each other’s eyes. Emotions Eliza couldn’t yet name tightened her throat. “You matter to me too,” she managed to get out.