by Julie Cannon
The creaking of the bathroom door saved Nicole from responding, and a man walked out. He wore a blue shirt with the McMillan logo above the left pocket and a sewn-on name badge that said Stevens above the right and was wiping his hands on a crackling paper towel.
“Bond, you kicked ass today,” he said before realizing Nicole was also in the room.
“Oh, shit, I didn’t know we had company.” A blush filled his face. “Shit, I’m sorry for my language, ma’am.”
Nicole smiled effortlessly at the man’s discomfort in using profanity while apologizing for his profanity.
“Mast, this is Nicole McMillan. Ms. McMillan, this guy with the mouth of a sailor is Mast. He’s our heavy-explosives guy.”
The man in front of her paled but then must have remembered the good manners his mother had probably drilled into him and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“My pleasure, Mast. Good work out there today.” Before she had a chance to say anything else the outer door opened and the noise in the room increased as ten more men stepped in. Each of them grabbed something from the fridge and settled down around the large table.
Nicole shook hands with each man as he introduced himself, her discomfort decreasing with each one. By the time she greeted the last man her nerves had settled and she almost felt normal again.
She glanced around the trailer, and other than a few updates over the years, this one looked like the countless ones she’d spent time in while in the field. The basic elements were still the same: two refrigerators, a microwave, and cases of bottled water. The only thing different was the neat stack of magazines on the corner of the counter.
Nicole thanked them for the job they did, and when the men started in on the good-natured one-upmanship that all the crews shared, she looked at Brady. She wasn’t participating in the banter but looking at her intently, as if to judge how she was holding up. Nicole’s confidence grew as her nerves disappeared. Taking a risk, Nicole looked a little longer, not able to drag her eyes away. She smiled and was rewarded with Brady’s smile, but this time when her pulse started to race it wasn’t because of nerves; it was because of Brady.
Nicole fought down an overwhelming desire to unzip Brady’s coveralls the rest of the way, unbutton Brady’s McMillan shirt, and drag her pants and everything under them to the floor. Instead, she turned her attention back to her crew and chatted easily with them for another twenty or thirty minutes.
“I don’t mean to rush you, Ms. McMillan, but whenever you’re ready to go back, Bond will take you,” Flick said.
She looked at Brady for what, confirmation? Brady nodded. “Sure, no problem. Just give me a chance to clean up.” Brady rose, pushed her chair in, and dashed out the door.
The men remained, an expectant look on their faces.
“You don’t have to stay. I know you all want to shower and get cleaned up.”
The men looked at Flick more out of respect than for permission. Flick nodded slightly, and they all got up and pushed their chairs under the table before leaving.
Nicole turned to Flick. “You’ve trained these guys well,” she said, indicating the neatness of the chairs around the table.
“Yes, ma’am. We may be out in the middle of nowhere doing the dirtiest job in the world, but that’s no excuse to be a slob.”
Nicole’s smile felt genuine and not forced. “You’ve done a wonderful job with this crew, Flick.”
“Thanks, they’re a good group of guys.”
Nicole found it interesting that he didn’t specifically single out Brady on his crew. When she was on a crew she hated it when a foreman did. She didn’t care if she was referred to as one of the guys. In her mind, and especially in this situation, the term was generic, like Kleenex. When they didn’t single her out one way or the other, Nicole knew she’d been accepted as an equal, and Brady had obviously achieved that same status. Nicole was proud of her.
While she waited for Brady, Nicole chatted with Flick about work-related things and noticed that her level of anxiety increased the longer Brady was gone. She forced herself to concentrate on the conversation as she waited for Brady.
It felt like an eternity before the door creaked open and Brady stepped inside. She was breathing fast, as if she’d run all the way from the crew quarters. What Nicole would describe as a joyous expression on Brady’s face quickly sobered when she saw Nicole wasn’t alone.
Flick stood and shook Nicole’s hand again. “Thanks again for coming out. I know the guys appreciated it. Have a safe trip back.”
*
Nicole and Brady followed Flick out the door, and Brady pointed to the truck parked at the end of the trailer. “I’m sorry it’s not clean.” Brady opened the passenger door for her. “It’s the one I had last night so hopefully it’s not too trashed inside.”
“Where to?” Brady asked as she maneuvered the truck onto the hard main road. Conversation had been next to impossible while driving around the site, the potholes and mounds of congealed oil making the trip rough and noisy.
Nicole laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Brady looked at her for the first time since entering the truck.
“I’d ask you to dinner, but I have absolutely no idea where to go.” Nicole felt like a complete idiot.
“I accept,” Brady said quickly. “We could go back to one of the places where we’ve been, or we can live life on the edge and try something different.”
Nicole thought for a minute. “How about the hotel restaurant? It was pretty good, and I think I’ve been on the edge enough for one day.” Nicole hoped her voice sounded as flippant as she wanted it to.
“Sounds good,” Brady said, without acknowledging her comment about what had happened today.
Forty minutes later, seated at the table, Nicole studied Brady over the top of her menu. Brady was quite a remarkable woman. She knew exactly what to say and when to say it. She also knew what not to say. Two very important attributes, in Nicole’s book.
“What are you going to have?” Brady asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“I have no idea. I haven’t even looked.”
“What have you been doing over there? Daydreaming?”
“Looking at you.” She waited for Brady’s reaction.
Brady looked up from her menu. “What are you looking for?”
“Some indication you’re not what you appear to be.”
Brady’s eyebrows rose and she cocked her head. “Have you found anything?”
“Not yet.” Nicole answered honestly.
“Sounds like you’re expecting to.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Brady looked a little disappointed. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
“You deserve at least that.” Actually, Nicole thought, you deserve much more than that.
“I appreciate that,” Brady said, with a hint of sarcasm. “And if you don’t find what you’re looking for? Will that be a bad thing?”
That was the question Nicole had been asking herself since she met Brady. There was something unique about her, and Nicole was trying not to attribute it to the fact that Brady was the first woman she’d felt any attraction to. That could be very dangerous.
But Brady was unlike any woman she’d met before. Her stunningly cute butchness was one thing, but it was her attitude, the way she approached life, the way she smiled, the way she thought, and how smart she was.
“I’m not sure,” Nicole replied. “The more time I spend with you, the more layers that peel back and reveal something new.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the memory of peeling off the layers of Brady’s clothes flashed through her mind. Heat shot through her as she remembered what she’d discovered.
Brady put her menu down on the table. She leaned forward, her forearms resting on the table, her hands around her bottle of beer. Her eyes were piercing and serious. “I don’t think you will and I hope you don’t. But go ahead and keep looking.” Brady leaned back i
n her chair, picked her menu back up, and turned one of the pages, obviously comfortable with ending the topic.
During dinner when there was a lull in the conversation she thought she saw Brady ramp up her nerve to ask something, but she never did. Finally, after her third cup of decaf, Nicole brought it up.
“About what happened today,” she said tentatively. The last thing she wanted to do was rehash how she’d frozen where she stood when she saw Brady at the wellhead. The world had stopped turning and all sound ceased. Her field of view narrowed and centered on Brady, and she could barely breathe as she watched her move in what looked like slow motion.
Watching Brady secure the wellhead had been like watching a well-choreographed ballet. She and her crewmates worked in unison as if they knew what the other would do almost before they did it. Every action was completed flawlessly with no hesitation. Conversation was next to impossible from the noise of the oil shooting out at thousands of pounds of pressure.
Nicole saw herself, then Brady, then herself maneuvering the big head over the bolts that would secure it to the well piping. She watched Brady guide the head in and herself move the heavy piece slightly to her left. She didn’t know where memories of herself stopped and Brady actually began in the scene unfolding in front of her.
She was in a daze, a spectator at a movie about her own life. Everything Brady did she had done that fateful day. Every signal, every move, every tool pulled from the pouch. Nicole waited for it to happen. She knew it would come. It always did. That one day when her life had burned up in front of her.
“Hey,” Brady said in a soft voice. Nicole didn’t look at her but Brady continued anyway. “Nobody knows what happened. Nobody saw anything.”
“You did.” Nicole’s voice cracked.
“No,” Brady countered easily. “I saw my boss watching over her crew. I saw a fabulous woman standing tall in the face of danger. I saw only you.”
Nicole swung her eyes up from her hands and into Brady’s. This could not be happening like this. She expected platitudes, expressions of empathy, or a dozen other empty, meaningless words uttered by meaningful people. Brady’s face was serious, and Nicole couldn’t detect a hint of pity or sympathy. On the contrary, she saw compassion, kindness, and concern reflected in Brady’s eyes.
“Thank you.” It was all Nicole could manage.
Several minutes passed before Nicole realized they were practically the only ones left in the restaurant. “Good grief. What time is it?” she asked, glancing at her watch. “It’s late,” she said, picking up her credit card from the small silver tray. “I better let you go.”
Nicole stood, knowing she was rambling but for some reason couldn’t stop herself. “How did you manage to get so much time off?” When on a fire the crew usually never left the site, spending their time either on shift, in the chow hall, or sleeping.
“Flick seems to have a sixth sense about when we need a break. It’s dangerous if we’re distracted, and we’re lucky we’re so close to town and can completely get away for a few hours.”
“You’re lucky to have a chief that thinks like that. Not many do.” Nicole wished she could hire a dozen more Flicks.
“I know. I’ve worked for most of them and refuse to work for them again.”
They arrived at a natural fork leading from the restaurant and branching to the left to the elevators and the right to the lobby. Nicole stopped, fully intent on saying good-bye to Brady. She saw a different intent on Brady’s face.
“You don’t need to walk me to my door.”
“Don’t argue with me, Nicole.” Brady took her arm and led her to the left. “We’ve been through this before and I won. I’ll win again, so save your breath and effort for something that matters.”
Nicole started to argue but stopped when she realized she would have a few more minutes with Brady. But that was all it would be. They would not repeat what had happened last night. She could not and would not do that again.
The hall was empty and the thick carpet muffled any sounds of their feet hitting the ground. In far too short a time, they were at her door. This time she managed to open her own door and turned to say good night to Brady. Her voice stuck somewhere in her throat. Her brain forgot to think but her body instinctively knew how to communicate. And it was telling her what she didn’t want to hear.
Brady didn’t move but stood there, her eyes glued to hers. Nicole wanted to reach out, pull her into her room, and kiss her. She wanted to strip Brady naked and take her again and again. She wanted to feel Brady under her hands, her mouth, her tongue. She wanted to hear her cry out in the dark, feel her body convulse, and hold her when she climaxed. She wanted her, plain and simple. But there was nothing simple about this. And there never would be.
“Good night, Brady.”
Brady’s expression didn’t change. She didn’t blink, frown, or look surprised. She simply smiled, stepped forward, and kissed her lightly on the mouth.
“Good night. Travel safe.”
Nicole watched as Brady retraced their steps to the elevator. With each step her body screamed at her to stop Brady, to call her back. But her brain was telling her something different, and Nicole knew which one would win. It always did. It had to.
Closing the door behind her sounded like the slamming of a cell door in an empty prison. It echoed in the overwhelming silence of her room and ripped her breath away. Nicole took a few steps into the room, and before she could think about what she was doing she turned around, opened the door, and ran down the hall.
Chapter Twenty-three
Brady needed a drink. No, she needed several. This entire day had been bizarre, unsettling, and one of the most thrilling of her life. She had killed the fire, capped the head, and helped Nicole down from the ledge. She’d been examined, scrutinized, and peeled by Nicole over dinner and dismissed at her door. Brady wasn’t about to go away without one more kiss, and she risked being pushed away and took it.
It was sweet, Nicole’s lips tasting like coffee and peppermint, and she wanted it to go on forever. But Nicole had other ideas and Brady wasn’t going to push. Sure, she wanted to be with Nicole again, feel her weight on top of her, her hands on her, in her. But she didn’t want the complications it would bring. More than one or two nights was a potential complication, and getting involved with Nicole would be a big one.
After stopping at what seemed like every floor, the elevator arrived at the lobby. Brady stepped out and started for the exit but made a detour to the bar area first, her three cups of coffee needing a release.
Drying her hands on a pristine white towel, she examined herself in the mirror. She had circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and weeks of hard work. She needed a massage and about three days of nonstop sleep. As soon as she got home she’d take care of both.
Tossing the towel in the basket by the door, she stepped out and headed toward the lobby doors. They’d just opened in front of her with a swish when she heard her name called from behind her. When she turned Nicole was practically running toward her. Her heart jumped. Was something wrong? She was on full alert by the time Nicole slid to a stop in front of her.
“Nicole, what is it? Did something happen?” Nicole silenced her with a finger on her lips.
“Will you come upstairs with me?”
Of course she would, but what was going on? Was Nicole afraid to be alone again? “Of course.”
“No,” Nicole said quietly, scrutinizing her. “I mean will you come upstairs with me?”
It took a few moments for Nicole’s words to take effect and for Brady’s mind to shift from danger to…what…pleasure? Was Nicole saying what she thought she was saying, or was she just reading something into the situation? God, what a mess this woman makes of my mind, Brady thought.
“I’d like for you to come upstairs with me.” Nicole’s voice didn’t waver.
Suddenly it was clear. Nicole was offering her the opportunity to be with her again. Would it be a repeat of last night
? Would Nicole do everything while she was forced to lie back and take it? It sounded great, but she’d wanted to touch Nicole so bad it hurt. Wanted to feel her naked body against hers, their breasts touching, their legs wet with desire. She didn’t know how it would turn out, but she did know that she wanted to find out.
The sexual tension in the elevator was thick. Nicole was studying something interesting on the floor, and no matter how hard Brady willed her to look at her she didn’t. Brady couldn’t stand it anymore. She wanted to be with a woman who wanted a joint experience, two people connecting and not just physically. Nicole had to want this as much as she did.
“You don’t have to do this,” Brady finally said.
“I know.” Nicole’s voice was more resigned than eager. She still hadn’t looked up.
“Then why are you?” That got her attention and Nicole looked at her.
“Because I do want to.”
“Why?”
“Why? Isn’t it obvious? We’re attracted to each other. This is the last time we’ll see each other. Why not?”
Brady didn’t comment on Nicole’s statement that they’d never see each other again. Instead she said, “So this is a good-bye fuck?” Nicole squirmed, and as much as Brady wanted to be with her again, she refused to let her off the hook this easily.
“No, yes,” Nicole said, exasperated, and leaned against the back of the elevator. She looked up at the ceiling this time and sighed. “I don’t know what it is, Brady. All I know is that I want it to happen again.”
Brady didn’t push it any further, sensing how much it cost Nicole to admit that one little bit.
*
“Please, Nicole,” Brady begged, and not for the first or second time. She was in the middle of Nicole’s bed, Nicole nibbling and kissing her way down her body. So far Nicole hadn’t touched her where she needed it the most, preferring to spend at least the first half of eternity kissing almost every inch of her.
Nicole was driving her crazy. Her mouth licked her breast everywhere but her nipples. They were rock hard and she ached for Nicole’s lips around them again. She tickled her belly with light, butterfly kisses that continued across her hips and the top of her thighs, and when Nicole spread her legs Brady knew when she kissed her in that perfect spot she would immediately explode. But Nicole had her own agenda. She licked the spot between her outer lips and the crook of her thigh. She kissed her lips but didn’t venture any farther. Nicole’s teasing was agony and ecstasy at the same time. She resumed her trail down her legs to her feet, then back up again.
