Love After Hours

by Radclyffe

  “I won’t.” Carrie slipped inside. The screen banged shut, and Carrie’s silhouette was framed in the door.

  Gina started breathing again, but her legs were still rooted in place. The rest of her was a tangle of nerves and questions and confusion. She should have said something. You didn’t need to ask. Permission granted. God, you can really kiss.

  Her lips were numb. Her head was buzzing. She fell back on habit and jammed her hands into her pockets. Carrie looked out at her, a little worried crease between her eyes.

  “Thanks for the coffee,” Gina called.

  “You’re welcome.”

  The shadows shifted, sunlight slanted across the porch, and Carrie was gone. Gina let out a sharp, pained breath. Her chest hurt, the emptiness she’d gotten used to burning like a flame reborn from embers.

  “Everything okay, boss?” Manny stood at the foot of the stairs frowning up at her.

  “Yeah. Great.” Gina jumped down to join them, glad her legs held her up. She wondered if Manny could tell she was lying—no one ever seemed to be able to except Joe, who always knew when she was faking normal. The day stretched out before her like a prison sentence, timeless and empty. Only the evening and the promise of seeing Carrie again held any hint of reprieve.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carrie walked upstairs into her bedroom, closed the door, and methodically stripped off her clothes. Voices drifted up through her open window, floating on the same breeze that washed across her heated skin. She could pick out Gina’s mellifluous alto offset by the deep rumble of a bass note and a lilting tenor accompaniment, but her perceptions were too stultified to make sense of the words. Her body was the strangest combination of numb and electrified—as if when she stepped off the porch and into her own kitchen she had somehow passed through a charged barrier or an invisible magnetic field that simultaneously stimulated every nerve ending while turning her mind and the tips of her fingers and toes into a state of frozen animation. Not altogether unpleasant, especially the tingling that accompanied every uneven breath. When she reached out to turn on the shower, she wondered for an instant whose hand that was. Taking a step back, she shook her head.

  Okay, time to do a reality check.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a minute she could finally hear herself think, having never realized before she actually could. Thankfully, she was still her. All her limbs were still attached to the appropriate places. She hadn’t suddenly been teleported into an alternate reality. Even if she wasn’t behaving like herself, she was in fact still the woman she’d always been. Even as she comforted herself with her rational thoughts, she wondered if she really knew the woman she’d always been. She’d never thought of herself as lacking in confidence, and she always went after the things that she cared about. Her goals, her pleasures, the things that satisfied her—she didn’t wait for them to come to her, she sought them out, she made them happen. The one area where she was always careful not to rush, though, was women. She knew what she wanted with women and had nurtured the picture for a long time. She didn’t mind waiting until she was certain she’d found it. Gina did not fit the picture at all—she was distant and secretive and broody. She was sexy and seductive, but for all of her confidence, she hadn’t made the first move. Or any move.

  “Really? That’s what’s got you turned around?” Carrie murmured, hoping the sound of her own voice would restore her sense of balance. “You were really waiting for someone else to take the first step? Wow. That doesn’t fit with the picture, either.”

  Time to readjust her picture of her own wants and desires, that was for sure. She stepped into the lukewarm water and adjusted the taps until it was as cool as she could stand without shivering. Time to get honest with herself. She’d kissed Gina Antonelli, and that was definitely off script. But oh, what a kiss. She’d kissed enough women to know what a good kiss was, and this one was off the charts. Gina had the softest, warmest, most demanding mouth she’d ever encountered. Her lips still smoldered from the hot glide of Gina’s mouth and the taunting, teasing, knowing press of her tongue. Carrie swallowed a groan and ran her hands down her sides, lingering on the dip just above her hip bones where Gina’s hands had lightly rested, simply making contact for a fleeting minute or two. And as light as that contact had been, she could still feel the imprint of Gina’s hands on her flesh, never mind she’d been fully clothed at the time.

  And thank goodness both of them had been fully covered and standing out on the porch in the full light of day, or she really might have ended up in uncharted waters. If those two guys hadn’t shown up, she could very clearly see herself dragging Gina up the stairs and into the bedroom. Just thinking about another kiss and the possibility of Gina’s hand skimming under her clothes and over her bare skin stirred a pulse beating pleasantly between her thighs. At least, the insistent thrum of desire would be pleasant if she was the least bit inclined to do anything about it, which she wasn’t. Satisfying her own needs was enjoyable under most circumstances, but this time she had a feeling she’d be left wanting. Sometimes less than everything was worse than nothing at all.

  Sometimes, settling was the same as losing, and one thing she never intended to do was lose before she’d even begun to play.

  Carrie closed her eyes and tilted her head back as water streamed over her face, down her breasts, and along the swell of her thighs. With the memory of Gina’s mouth on hers, she let herself imagine Gina’s fingertips exploring and teasing and pleasing her. When the torture reached a painful pitch, she groaned and opened her eyes. There was only so much she could take. Even as she stood under the icy needles, heat raced beneath her skin. She bet steam was rising from her body, and God, she wanted one more taste of Gina.

  She cut off the water with a frustrated twist of the knob, stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a towel. On autopilot, she dried off and blow-dried her hair for a few perfunctory minutes until her patience withered and died. At least the tangles looked intentional, rather then simply neglected. She’d planned on wearing tailored pants and a semicasual shirt, but opted instead for a straight tan skirt that ended a bit above her knees and a sleeveless silk shirt in a light shade of tangerine. She slipped into low-heeled sandals, headed downstairs for her bag, and stepped out onto the back porch feeling a lot more in control. Not being in her pajamas any longer was a plus. Gina turned at the sound of the screen door banging shut and stopped in her tracks, a hammer dangling from her right hand. Even from twenty feet away, Carrie could see Gina’s stunned gaze travel down her body and back up to her face. She smiled, pleased she’d decided on the change of clothes. She almost imagined she could hear Gina swallow.

  “Need me for anything before I go?” Carrie called.

  Gina’s heart kick-started back into motion, and she managed to get her legs to follow suit. She strode across the yard and stopped at the foot of the steps. The view up into Carrie’s face was better than a summer sunrise—bright and brilliant and breathtaking. “Another speed record. I would’ve sworn it would take you a good two hours to look as good as you do right now.”

  “Thanks. Trade secret,” Carrie said. “So maybe I’ll see you at the game tonight.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  Carrie slipped past her and before she could get too far away, Gina called, “Hey, Carrie.”

  Carrie looked back over her shoulder, raising a brow in question.

  Running on instinct, Gina said, “How about I pick you up after work, we grab something quick to eat and head over to the field together.”

  “Well, that depends.”

  “What are your terms?” Gina said.

  “No pizza, no fast food.”

  “Okay, that’s a challenge. But I accept.”

  Laughing, Carrie shook her head. “That’s okay. Pizza is always good.”

  “Five o’clock at the hospital?”

  Carrie nodded. “Unless there’s an emergency, that will work.”

  “You have my number. If an
ything changes, let me know.”

  “I will. You have a good day.” Carrie strode over to her zippy little car, started the engine, and zoomed away without looking back.

  Gina shoved her hands in her pockets and turned to watch her until she disappeared around a bend in the driveway.

  Manny came around the corner. “Hey, boss? We good to go?”

  “Yeah,” Gina said slowly, despite having no idea where she was headed, only knowing she wanted to go. “We’re good.”

  *****

  At a little after three p.m., Gina unbuckled her tool belt, slung it into the truck, and signaled to Manny and Frankie to finish up. “Let’s call it, guys.”

  Another day of demo upstairs and they’d be able to start framing. Decent progress. She’d have to let Carrie know they’d be pulling the bathroom apart soon. As soon as she thought about Carrie, which she’d avoided doing with superhuman willpower all day, the kiss came roaring back into her consciousness and into every cell in her body. Her heart raced and her stomach did a full revolution with her standing still. She wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. If she was being honest, she liked the feeling.

  “What do you think, boss,” Manny said, mopping his neck with a red bandanna he’d pulled from his back pocket. “Are they going to pull us out of here when the job over at the hospital gets started?”

  “Can’t say for sure,” Gina said, although she’d be willing to bet money the three of them plus a few more would be stuck here for the next few weeks. She didn’t see her father changing his mind. She couldn’t remember him changing his mind in recent history, for that matter.

  Manny scowled. “Yeah, well, I don’t mind doing this kind of thing, and it’s pleasant working out here.” He scanned the yard. “Pretty.” He grinned. “And the owner’s not bad to look at, either.”

  Gina gritted her teeth and let it go. Manny was harmless, and what he thought about Carrie was none of her business anyhow. Still, a twist of irritation and a whole lot of possessiveness hit her in the midsection and gnawed at her. “A job like this is a change from the big stuff, I’ll give you that.” She shrugged. “Once in a while it’s nice to do some custom work.”

  “Can’t argue,” Manny said. “Well, I gotta get home. I promised the wife I’d watch the kids so she could have a girls’ night.” He shook his head. “I still can’t figure out exactly what they do, but if she doesn’t get to go, she’s mighty unhappy.”

  Gina smiled. Manny was the kind of guy who looked rough and unfinished on the outside, but a day didn’t go by he didn’t mention his wife and children with pride. At the end of the day he was all about family. Gina understood that. She’d expected the same for herself, once upon a time. She could name the day when she’d stopped seeing that picture, but she couldn’t recall when she’d finally accepted it.

  “You’d better take off, then,” Gina said, climbing into her truck. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  She had a couple of hours to kill before she picked up Carrie and plenty of time to head home to take a shower. Time enough to take care of the thorn that kept stabbing at her insides all day. She made it to the Rivers in fifteen minutes, and as she’d figured, Joe’s Mustang was still in the ER lot. Whenever she needed to find him, that was always the first place she looked. She rarely called him because if he was busy, she didn’t want to interrupt him.

  The patient part of the ER lot was mostly empty, a good sign. She parked next to Joe’s muscle car and walked inside, pausing by reception to make sure no big crisis was under way. A baby cried somewhere in the depths of the ER, a phone rang at the central station, and muffled voices carried down the corridor. Nothing unusual. She waited by the desk until someone appeared.

  “Hi, Gina.” Pam, the nurse she’d met the last time she’d come looking for Joe, smiled at her. Today she wore skinny jeans, a white polo shirt, and teal running shoes. A stethoscope was looped around her neck, and an ID badge hung on a multicolored lanyard between her breasts. “What can I do for you?”

  “I was looking for Joe. Is he busy?”

  “I think he’s almost finished. You want me to check?”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll just wait.”

  “I was about to take a break. Buy you a cup of coffee?”

  Gina hesitated. She couldn’t just hang around in the hall, and she didn’t have a good reason to say no. “Ah…sure. That would be great.”

  Pam smiled. “Great. I’ll tell Joe to text me when he’s done.”

  “I appreciate it. Thanks.”

  Pam returned a minute later. “He’s putting a cast on a six-year-old. Another monkey bar arm casualty.”

  Gina shook her head as they walked down the hall toward the cafeteria. “That was me when I was a kid. I loved the monkey bars. Broke my collarbone. My big sister broke her arm.”

  Pam laughed. “What about Joe?”

  “Oh, he never got hurt. He always fell on his head.”

  “Well, I’m glad to see that all of you recovered.” Smiling, Pam briefly ran her fingers down Gina’s arm.

  “Yeah, we did,” Gina said, although she wasn’t too sure, thinking about all the broken parts of her, inside and out. Maybe nothing would show up on an X-ray, but something somewhere deep inside felt wrong. Most of the time, she ignored the simmering discontent, just as she did the nagging discomfort in her ruined knee. These days, she was having a harder time convincing herself everything was fine.

  The silence stretched and Pam studied her. “So, Joe happened to mention you’re single.”

  Gina shook her head with a wry grin. “That’s my brother. Mr. Subtle. Sorry if he embarrassed you.”

  “He didn’t. I think working where we do,” Pam said, pouring coffee from the big urn in the cafeteria, “you lose subtle really fast. What’s the point of waiting when you might never get the chance to do what you want? There’s kind of a live-now attitude for most of us, anyhow.”

  Gina poured her own coffee. “I can’t take issue with that. And Joe is right as far as he knows.”

  They sat at a small table by the door and Pam added creamers to her coffee, studying Gina as she stirred them in. “As far as he knows. Okay, let me translate that. There’s someone and you haven’t mentioned her to him, or you’d like there to be someone.”

  “No, to the first. As to the rest, I’m a really bad bet for relationships.”

  Pam nodded. “How about an evening of something we both like—a movie, dinner, or whatever else comes up.”

  “I appreciate the invitation.”

  “But you’re not ready.”

  Gina smiled thinly. Not ready was an understatement. Being ready meant changing everything. She mostly wasn’t ready to think about what she wanted, and what she couldn’t bear to have or lose again. “Something like that.”

  “Good enough. If things change, let me know. I think we might have a good time.”

  “Thanks,” Gina said.

  Pam’s cell phone buzzed and she checked it. “Joe texted—he’s done.”

  “I should head back,” Gina said.

  “Me too.”

  As they walked out to the hall together, Carrie came around the corner, a distant look on her face. She almost passed them by before she blinked and focused on Gina, her brows drawing down. “Gina?”

  “Hey,” Gina said, struck nearly mute as she always seemed to be when she first caught sight of Carrie. She looked even better than she had that morning. A stray lock of red-gold hair curled just in front of her ear and Gina had to fight not to reach out and brush it back with a finger.

  Carrie smiled uncertainly in the silence, glanced at Pam and back to Gina. “Well, it was nice to see you again.”

  “Right.” Gina looked after Carrie as she hurried past, sure she’d missed something and not clear what. Sighing, she muttered, “Perfect.”

  Pam laughed lightly as they started walking again. “Would that be the somebody you’re not sure about exactly?”

  “No
,” Gina said quickly. “She’s actually a client. I’m…well, it doesn’t matter. No problem.”

  “Uh-huh,” Pam said brightly. When they reached the ER, she gave a little wave. “Thanks for the coffee, and remember what I said.”

  “Right. I will. Thanks again.” Gina walked over to the workstation where Joe stood entering data into a tablet.

  “Be right with you,” he mumbled.

  “Take your time.” Gina replayed the brief encounter with Carrie and thought of all the things she should have said. Too late now. Cripes, what bad timing. Not that it mattered what Carrie thought about her and Pam. Not that there was anything to think.

  “I see you and Pam connected,” Joe said, sliding his tablet into a slot at the counter with his name on it. “Nice going.”

  “There’s no connection. We had coffee.” Gina scowled at him.

  “First step,” Joe needled.

  “Just let it go.”

  He must have heard the warning in her voice. His expression sobered. “So what’s up. Problem?”

  Gina shook her head. “Sorry to bug you, it’s just…Have you got a couple of minutes?”

  “Sure. I’m waiting on some tests to come back, and things are quiet right now. You want a cup of coffee?”

  Gina thought of Carrie and the cafeteria. “No, I’m good.”

  “Let’s walk outside, then,” Joe said.

  They ended up leaning against her truck, a position almost as familiar to her as sitting in her own living room.

  “So?” Joe said.

  “It’s about Dad. What do you think is really going on? Do we need to worry?”

  Joe rubbed his face. “I wish to hell I knew. He won’t tell me anything, and I can’t exactly pry into his medical history. It’s just not right.”

  “Yeah, but he’s our father.”

  “Yeah, he is. And he’s got a right to his privacy just like anybody else.”

  Gina dropped her head back against the cab of the truck, folded her arms across her chest, and closed her eyes. “I just have this really bad feeling. I’m being paranoid, right?”