Just Like That
Page 20
“I appreciate it. Missy knows all my flaws by now, but she didn’t need to hear about some things.”
“Like the fact that I was responsible for introducing you to grooming? You were such a tough butch—you didn’t need conditioner and moisturizers.”
“You civilized me, and I thank you.” Jane smiled that wide, easy smile of hers, and Syrah felt a pang of pure envy. “Missy likes me civilized.”
“It’s a good thing we didn’t ruin our friendship by sleeping together,” Syrah said seriously.
“We were never drunk enough at the same time.”
Syrah thought about it. “You know, you’re probably right.”
Jane squeezed her tightly as the music ended. “We’re still best friends. You can’t get rid of me.”
Syrah’s ache of loss eased. “I feel just the same way.”
“Good. Because I think I’ll be using this suit again soon.”
Syrah wanted to pretend she didn’t understand what Jane meant, but finally said truthfully, “You could be right. If I don’t screw it up again.”
“And when I toast you and that certain someone,” Jane said, her eyes twinkling, “I am going to remind you that you were dead set against the ‘mania to get married.’”
She thought about Toni’s kiss and the look in her eyes again, and she let herself wonder, for the first time, if there was no reason to envy Jane’s happiness. Could she really trust that the same kind of happiness was within her grasp? “If there is a time and place for you to make that comment,” she said slowly, “I’ll be too happy to care.”
Jane squeezed her. “I think you’re beginning to get the hang of this love thing.”
“So, when are you going to actually date the woman?” Missy leaned back in Toni’s arms.
Toni, watching Syrah dancing with Jane out of the corner of her eye, shrugged. “I don’t think we’re going to date.”
“Toni, don’t be pig—”
“I intend to court her, maybe for the rest of my life. Just wish me luck. I think I can use it, given how things have gone.”
“You don’t need luck,” Missy said firmly. “You need to talk. Communicate. Be afraid of no topic.”
Toni laughed and pulled Missy against her for an affectionate squeeze. “I have to say I do not see you and Jane talking all that much.”
“We do.” Missy’s smile was impish. “We talk after. The best part is that it’s hard to tell when the talking stops and the lovemaking begins again. Talking makes for great afterplay and it leads to more foreplay.”
“I really am happy for you, Missy.”
“I just wish the courts would move faster ruling the sale to Mira invalid. She’d be completely out of your life if they did. It would be a relief.”
“Yes, it would be,” Toni agreed. “But I’m starting to realize that business deals can end neat and tidy, but relationships do not.”
As she twirled Missy one last time Toni let herself wonder if she and Syrah would ever find love so easy. Maybe. Certainly, sitting in the restaurant wanting to dump salad dressing on Mira seemed like a lifetime ago. If Syrah ever says those words to me I won’t walk out. She would listen, talk, try anything to keep Syrah in her life. She didn’t want to play at a relationship with Syrah, she wanted more.
It was crazy to picture a time in the future when she’d introduce Syrah to her father and tell him she was in love with the little girl he’d met long ago. It was positively insane that their fathers would likely be delighted.
She couldn’t help but envision it and she realized that what she felt was amazement. Her feelings about Syrah had no metrics or annual projections. No merger proposal, but instead a desire for inseparable union. There was nothing crazy about it after all. She had never felt more sane in her life.
“That was a wonderful speech, pumpkin. Dance with your poor, old father.”
Syrah happily moved into a precise box step with him, the first and only dance move he’d ever taught her. “I might be figuring out why you and mom were so happy.”
“Not something you can learn from a book.” He regarded her kindly. “I didn’t realize raising a daughter would be so much like tending grapes. It’s been hard to leave you alone to grow.”
“Oh.” Syrah blinked back tears—weddings seemed to bring them out. “How am I doing so far?”
He favored her with one of his slow, charming smiles. “I think the vines were stressed this past while, but there’s no reason to think harvest won’t be just fine.”
For you, Dad, Syrah wanted to say, life was meant to be that simple. “I am hoping for less stormy days.”
“I hope so, too, pumpkin. I really do.”
Chapter 14
“I’ve got birdseed in my bra!” Missy shook the front of her blouse as she scrambled for the limo.
“I’ll help with that in the car,” Jane said, prompting hoots from the well-wishers who continued to pelt them with seed.
With a cheery wave they were gone. Toni watched the limo slowly make its way down Netherfield’s drive and blinked back yet more tears. Their happiness was so palpable that it could turn a person’s stomach—unless that person was just as much in love herself, she thought ruefully.
She turned to find Syrah, who had single-handedly plastered Jane with a couple of pounds of birdseed, right behind her.
“Hi.” It was all she could think to say.
“Hi.” Syrah’s smile and arched brows said she found Toni’s incoherence just a little bit amusing.
“I have to see to the clearing up and pay off the caterer and such. Will you stay?”
Syrah said simply, “Yes.”
Emboldened, but feeling fifteen, Toni was mortified when her voice cracked. “All the houseguests are leaving today.”
“Are they?” Syrah was making no effort to hide her amusement now. “Toni Blanchard, is that an invitation to stay the night?”
“Yes, it is.” And longer, she wanted to add, but she’d made enough of a fool of herself. “I know you have obligations and stuff tomorrow…and things like that.”
Syrah laughed. “Who would have thought you could be nervous?”
“You make me very nervous.”
“Good. I like that.” Those beautiful, wonderful, absolutely fine eyes sparkled. “Don’t worry, I understand the invitation is for tonight only. Oh, my father is ready to go. I’ll just tell him not to expect me.”
The invitation was for more than tonight, but Toni wasn’t sure she could find the words. She watched Syrah make her way through the thinning crowd, remembering, vividly, the way Syrah had felt under her. The rest of her imagination was occupied with visions of their bodies in a great many other positions.
“Roll up your tongue, Toni.” Caroline stepped into Toni’s line of sight. “I don’t think it’ll work. Do you think she’s going to leave her father and the Ardani fields?”
“She doesn’t have to,” Toni said slowly.
Caroline’s smile was like cut diamonds. “As if you’d leave Manhattan. As if you’re home more than a week out of every month. She’s going to want more than that. She’s so…young and idealistic.”
“I’m trying to be worth some idealistic values. Besides,” she added quickly, “compromise is the hallmark of every successful relationship.”
“I’m never giving up, Toni. I think we were meant to be together.”
“What about love?”
“What about it?” Caroline’s laugh was unamused. “I thought we were grownups.”
“I think I’m just now growing up in that department.”
Something flickered in Caroline’s eyes. “Temporary insanity. I forgive you.”
“No forgiveness is needed.” Very seriously, so that Caroline could not claim to have misunderstood, she added, “I don’t know who you love, Caroline, but it’s not the real me.”
“Oh, Toni,” she said with a pretty laugh, “that only makes me want you more.”
Toni didn’t have to look around to kn
ow that Syrah was now in earshot. It was very Caroline, to say something ambiguous but salacious—if one was inclined to take it that way. Caroline loved mischief as much as Mira. In a low voice, she said, “I’m very sorry if I ever misled you.”
“See you back in Manhattan, where you belong,” Caroline said before waving at someone and abruptly leaving Toni’s side.
Toni turned to look for Syrah, but if indeed she had been there, she no longer was.
People were making obvious signs of departure. Syrah agreed with one and all it had been a lovely ceremony. All the while part of her thought about the scene she’d just overheard between Toni and Caroline. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but Caroline had suddenly raised her voice, obviously so that Syrah could hear what she said.
Tired of small talk, she tried to help the caterer repack the wine bottles in crates but was shooed away. She found herself outside, looking at the pattern of sparkling light on the house as it reflected off the pool. She’d point it out to Jane—it was the kind of thing Jane liked to capture in her paintings.
“Syrah, dear, there you are. We were just getting ready to go, and I didn’t want to miss saying good-bye to you.” Caroline had changed into more casual clothes and carried an overnight bag in one hand. “Can I tell you a secret?”
Syrah wanted to say no, couldn’t say yes, but her silence was enough for Caroline.
“I think that today really put Toni in mind of finally doing something public for the two of us. I’ve cared about her for years, even when she and Mira were a walking disaster zone.” She shrugged, looking coy.
Syrah could tell Caroline wanted her to comment, but she didn’t see the point. She very much wanted to believe that Toni only spent time with Caroline because she was Missy’s sister. As for Mira, well, it was to Toni’s credit that she hadn’t been able to believe that Mira was so evil. In that one way, Toni was like her father, and the idea that the two of them were anything alike made Syrah smile to herself.
Caroline gave Syrah a curious look before continuing. “We’ve been so off-again on-again throughout the years, and last night…” Another coy look. “Last night she made it so clear that we need to think about a permanent future.”
Syrah blinked. Slowly, she replayed in her head what Caroline had just said. Then she thought about the kiss and the look in Toni’s eyes when she’d asked her to stay the night. She weighed that look against all of Caroline’s half-truths and innuendoes. She, like Toni, didn’t want to believe someone could lie to her face and look like an angel, but part of her understood wanting Toni enough to be that desperate.
She studied Caroline’s face, thought once more about the kiss, and it was suddenly the easiest thing in the world to say, clearly and firmly, “Caroline, I don’t believe you.”
She glanced past Caroline’s shoulder and saw that Toni had paused in the nearest doorway, looking at them quizzically. Syrah shrugged a “she’ll never change” and Toni spread her hands in a clear “mea culpa but it’s never going to happen again.”
“What?” Caroline looked at Syrah in stunned surprise.
“I don’t believe you. Toni wouldn’t lie to me, so you must be. I’m sorry. Excuse me.”
She saw that Toni was in motion as well and they met in only a few seconds. She tipped her head back and met Toni’s steady, dark gray gaze.
“Do you remember,” she began clearly, forgetting that Caroline existed. “Do you remember the day you told me you loved me?”
“Vividly.” Toni’s eyes were shining with laughter.
“Can we do that over?”
“As many times as you like.”
“How about until we get it right?”
“Even if it takes a thousand tries—you got it.”
Syrah arched her back so she could gaze up into Toni’s face. “That pencils just fine for me.”
From the large picture window in the great room they watched the last rental truck, laden with chairs, disappear into the falling night at the end of the drive.
“No stars tonight.” Syrah swallowed as Toni’s fingertips trailed lightly over the nape of her neck.
“I think I’m glad. I can’t blame anything on the stars.”
“Did you, before?”
“I tried.” Toni’s hands were gentle on Syrah’s shoulders as they shifted to face each other. “I never meant to insult you. I never meant to imply that loving you was bad for me or against anything I believed in. I realize, though,” she added before Syrah could speak, “that you could have taken what I said that way.”
“I listened to lies and part of me wanted to believe them.” Syrah realized she’d have to go slightly up on her toes to kiss Toni.
“I don’t know how this will work out, Syrah. My business is demanding.”
“So is mine. And will be over time as my father gets a little less involved.” Syrah shivered as Toni’s hands feathered over her throat and shoulders.
“Truthfully, I don’t have to work.” Toni was breathing hard, and her words slurred as if forming them was difficult. “You wouldn’t have to either.”
Syrah smiled broadly then bit her lower lip as Toni’s hands drifted over her ribs. “Like either of us would stop at this point in our lives.”
“I’m thinking there are times we could. And that I don’t have to live in New York twenty-four-seven, obviously. But I do want you to see my world. Meet my father.”
Syrah nodded. “Yes, Toni. Yes, I’d like that.”
“I love the way you say yes,” Toni breathed. “Can we agree to a transitional stage of negotiation?”
Syrah could feel her lips trembling. The house had settled into quiet and it felt as if their heartbeats were the only sounds for miles. Alone—they were very alone. “I agree, with one caveat.”
Toni brushed her cheek against Syrah’s forehead as she pulled Syrah firmly into her arms. “And that would be?”
“Our goal isn’t transitional—I don’t want some kind of together until we’re bored thing. I want…” Syrah ached to say “forever” but her voice broke and she feared she would cry. She didn’t want Toni to think she was frightened or sad.
“You want hundred-year vines by the time we’re done?”
“Oh.” A tear spilled over in spite of her efforts. “How did I ever think you had no heart?”
Toni’s eyes sparkled. “There was a time I tried not to have one. I thought a lot of money meant I had to be unsentimental. But your eyes, the moment I saw your eyes I felt like I’d found myself again—”
Syrah could stand it no longer. On her tiptoes she pressed her lips to Toni’s with a decidedly unladylike sound.
Toni crushed Syrah in her arms with a ferocity that sent ripples through Syrah’s stomach. “Tonight I want to leave the lights on. I want to see your face. I want to watch your eyes. I want you naked and mine.”
Syrah couldn’t breathe. She felt a stab of that familiar fear that if she let Toni get all the way inside her heart she’d end up so hurt she wouldn’t survive.
She wanted to hold part of herself aloof, to keep one last escape, just in case. But a frozen moment of panic melted with the revelation that the only way to save her heart was to give it all. She would be breaking it herself, this very moment, if she gave Toni anything less than the whole.
Toni whispered into her ear, “Syrah, please.”
She groaned “Yes” against Toni’s mouth. With that single word she could finally feel Toni’s uncertainties and fear, too. Flooding with tenderness, she said it again. “Yes. Yes, Toni.”
Toni’s hand trembled in Syrah’s when they finally eased apart. “How about a nice mattress instead of the hood of a car?”
Syrah smiled and loved the way Toni’s mouth crinkled into a matching grin. “I’d have already dragged you to bed if I had the slightest idea where your room was.”
“Really?” Toni pulled Syrah against her again. “Does that mean you want me, too?”
“I want the lights on. I want skin.” She kissed T
oni’s collarbone with a little moan. “I want to get out of these shoes.”
Laughing, Toni pulled Syrah toward the staircase. “I have an idea—what about a bubble bath?”
“Oh. That sounds divine,” Syrah conceded. She slipped out of her heels at the foot of the stairs and carried them with one hand while Toni held the other. She could picture doing exactly this on any future night, eager for bed, but relaxed, knowing there really was no hurry.
Toni slipped out of her jacket and hung it on the knob of the closet door. “I’ll start the water running.”
“This is a lovely room,” Syrah said truthfully, loud enough to be heard as Toni disappeared into the bathroom. Drawn to the window, which overlooked the gardens, she enjoyed the sparkle of party lights strung through the hedges. She stretched to undo the hook at the top of her gown’s zipper and shuddered as other fingers joined her own.
“Let me help with that,” Toni murmured.
The slow sound of the zipper, followed by Toni’s warm breath on her spine made Syrah wonderfully dizzy.
“Oh, and with this, too,” Toni added.
Her bra was suddenly loose and Syrah gasped. She grasped the windowsill as Toni’s hands slipped inside her dress, pushing it and her bra off her shoulders. Kisses began at the nape of her neck and moved slowly down her spine. “Toni…oh my.”
“Yes, the lights are lovely, aren’t they?”
Syrah gave a half-laugh. “Lights? What lights?” The window-pane was cool against her forehead.
“The tub takes a long time to fill.”
Toni’s body pressed against the length of Syrah’s back, washing her with warmth and Toni hugged her tightly from behind. “Oh,” Syrah said faintly. “I guess we’ll have to find a way to amuse ourselves.”
Firmly, Toni turned Syrah to face her. Brushing her lips against Syrah’s she said, “I have a thought or two.”
“You can still think?”
Toni’s grin turned wicked. “Yes, I can. For now, let me do all the thinking. I want you to enjoy…everything.”