Love After Hours

by Radclyffe

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so. Right now I don’t think there’s much we can do except wait and make it really clear to him he’s got to tell us what’s going on.”

  She cracked an eye and gave him a look. “And how well do you think that’s going to work?”

  He sighed. “I guess we’re gonna have to talk to Mom.”

  “Man, if we do that before he tells her, he’s gonna order us out to the garage for the rest of our lives.”

  Joe laughed. When they were kids and in trouble, their punishment was they had to move into the garage for however long he deemed appropriate for their crime. Sleeping on old sleeping bags with the mice wasn’t so bad, but they weren’t allowed to eat with the family, which basically meant foraging in the kitchen for things to eat after meals were over. It wasn’t really much of a punishment, except the part where they missed dinner. “I hope that’s as bad as we can expect.”

  “I know,” Gina finally said. “I think we’re going to have to wait. Hopefully he’ll talk to Mom and the rest of us, and it won’t turn out to be anything serious.”

  “Yeah. Waiting sucks.” Joe sighed. “So what’s really up with you and Pam?”

  “Not a thing,” Gina snapped. “We were having coffee, okay?”

  Joe’s brows shot up. “Whoa. Okay. Just wondering.”

  Gina pushed away from the truck. “Nothing to wonder about.”

  “You’ll be at the game tonight?” Joe said, obviously making an effort to change the subject and make peace.

  “Where else?”

  “I’ll be done at four. You want to get some pizza before you head over to the field? I don’t have anything on tonight, so I’m going to go to the game.”

  Damn it, she could feel herself blushing. “Uh, no thanks.” She huffed out a breath. “I sorta have plans to…you know, meet somebody for dinner.”

  Joe’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

  Gina clenched her jaw. “Can we not talk about this?”

  “Hell no. We are so going to talk about it. What does sorta have plans for dinner mean?”

  “Just what I said.”

  “With who?”

  “Carrie Longmire.”

  Joe whistled. “Wow. Really.”

  “Yes,” Gina said through her teeth, “really.”

  He grinned. “Okay, I’m impressed.”

  “There’s nothing to be impressed about. We’re just going to have something to eat before the game, okay? So let it go.”

  He held his hands up as if surrendering. “Okay. Absolutely. Just a little friendly sorta date.” He started laughing and she punched him in the arm. He muttered an epithet their mother would scold him for and just laughed harder.

  “I gotta go.” Gina turned around and stalked to her truck, her brother’s laughter following her. She needed to shower and figure out exactly what she was going to do for a casual dinner that had somehow become a date.

  Chapter Eighteen

  At four forty-five, Carrie texted Presley. Leaving at five. All quiet. Text if you need me.

  She’d skipped lunch to get caught up and had spent the afternoon hoping no emergencies would arise. The planets must’ve been aligned. Other than a few routine problems, easily handled, nothing had come up that she’d had to put through to Presley. The only potential disturbance on the horizon was her dinner with Gina, branded as a disturbance only because she had no idea what to expect or exactly what to make of it. The invitation had come out of nowhere and her acceptance had been just as spontaneous, not that she would’ve said no under any circumstances.

  The idea of a casual meetup with Gina was…nice. Very nice. Exciting even. Carrie laughed to herself. Okay, so she was a little bit nervous and a lot intrigued. Not that all that much could happen in an hour, after all, and that’s about all they’d have time for before Gina had to get to the field for the pregame warm-ups. A quick sandwich somewhere and on to the game. They could easily fill an hour talking softball if nothing else. Considering how little Gina talked about herself, that was all they might have to fall back on.

  Of course, there was one other little matter she had to clear up, and considering the kiss she wasn’t thinking about—at all—she’d have to get to it sooner rather than later. The matter being the status of Gina and the ER nurse she was with earlier. Carrie recognized the brunette from seeing her around the hospital and at some of the staff events, but she didn’t know her other than to say hello. She was attractive, very, and it sure looked as if she and Gina were sharing a personal moment.

  Her timing was usually a lot better than this—she didn’t go around kissing women who had other involvements. Not that she went around kissing women out of the blue. Oh no. She only did that with Gina. She was usually a whole lot clearer too—she asked specifically about other relationships and got specific answers before venturing past the conversation stage. Obviously, she’d missed a few steps with Gina. Totally unlike her.

  “Not smart, Longmire,” Carrie muttered.

  Presley’s door opened and she stuck her head out. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Sorry?” Carrie flushed. “Could you hear me?”

  “Only metaphorically. So? What’s up?”

  “Oh. Nothing.”

  “Uh-uh. Exhibit A.” Presley held up one finger. “It’s not quite five o’clock and you never leave before six.” She held up a second finger. “Exhibit B. You never tell me when you’re leaving because you know I don’t care what hours you keep. Therefore, your leaving must have some significance.” She came all the way out and closed her office door, holding up a third finger. “Exhibit C. You look guilty.”

  Carrie bristled. “I do not.”

  Presley grinned. “You do a little bit. More like you’re keeping a secret, actually. Ergo, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Absolutely nothing. I swear. I’m going to scout out the Hammers tonight. Just a little pre-tournament preparation.”

  “Okay. I’ll buy that. The game is at what? Seven?”

  “Six forty-five,” Carrie said cautiously, sensing a trap.

  Presley nodded. “And it’s about ten minutes from the hospital. And you’re leaving early.”

  “You know,” Carrie said, “it’s very annoying when someone knows your schedule as well as you know mine. Especially when that someone is your boss.”

  “What about when that someone is your best friend-slash-boss?”

  “Even worse.”

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Presley looked contrite. “And I’m sorry if I’m being nosy.”

  “Oh, stop—you’re not being nosy—at least not any more than I’d be given the same circumstances.” Carrie pushed a hand through her hair. “Besides, it’s hard to criticize when you’re totally right on all counts. I’m acting like I’ve been body-snatched. I feel like it too.”

  Presley laughed. “Well, tell me quick, before the pod swallows you up.”

  “You’re going to be disappointed. I’m just having dinner with Gina.”

  Presley pressed her lips together and nodded sagely. “That would explain the behavior. And I’m not going to even ask you for the details…beforehand. Only for a full report after.”

  Carrie gave up on getting any more work done, closed her programs, and logged out of her computer. She rose and grabbed her bag. “See, what you really should be asking me about is the kiss.”

  “There was a kiss?” Presley’s arm shot out and grabbed her before she could step away. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “Yes, I am,” Carrie protested. “I need to be downstairs in six minutes.”

  “Then talk fast.”

  “Actually, I can tell you everything in under thirty seconds.” Carrie looked over her shoulder just to be certain no one lurked in the hall beyond the reception area. She lowered her voice as extra protection. “I was overcome by a moment of insanity, possibly inspired by a blueberry corn muffin and Gina’s tool belt. And I kissed her th
is morning.”

  Presley narrowed her eyes. “This morning. You kissed her. When and where and for how long?”

  “Perhaps it was the unnatural hour that led to my temporary irrationality,” Carrie said. “I would put it at somewhere between six forty and six fifty. I can’t be entirely certain, as I seem to have had some mental dysfunction at the time.”

  “Wow. What were you doing up before six forty-five?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. And Gina was early. And there was coffee and this urge…” Carrie held up her hands. “And then it happened.”

  “You do realize this is a significant occurrence.”

  Carrie vehemently disagreed, shaking her head to demonstrate. “It doesn’t have to be. It was a kiss. People do that all the time and it doesn’t have any particular significance attached to it. To say good night. Or thank you after a date. Or…or hello after having been apart for a while. And since we haven’t even had a date—”

  “Exactly.” Presley pounced. “That’s what makes it significant. None of the usual reasons apply. What did she do?”

  “Picked up her metaphorical hammer and went back to work.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  “I have to get back to work.”

  “No, you don’t, you’re done for the day.”

  Carrie smiled wryly. “No, that’s what Gina said. I have to get to work.”

  “Oh boy.” Presley laughed. “Knocked her off the rails, didn’t you?”

  “That’s what I would’ve thought, but she asked me to dinner just a few minutes later.”

  “So she recovers fast,” Presley said lightly.

  Carrie blushed. Great—how about advertising she had sex on the brain.

  “She seems really nice,” Presley said, pretending to ignore Carrie’s hormone spike. “In addition to the hotness factor. I hope you have a great time.”

  “I’m sure it will be just a simple dinner,” Carrie said. “No reason to make too much of it.”

  “Why don’t you just try to have fun and not think it to death. I promise I won’t harangue you too much, but you should probably call me later.”

  Laughing, Carrie shouldered her bag. “I really shouldn’t kiss and tell.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Talk to you later.”

  Carrie took the stairs down to the lobby, not wanting to wait for the elevator. She’d probably be early, but she didn’t mind a few extra minutes of anticipation. Like Presley said, no reason she couldn’t enjoy a simple dinner with an interesting woman.

  *****

  Gina leaned against the fluted two-story marble column in the spacious hospital lobby, watching the clock set high at the junction with the arched ceiling, its ornate gilded hands moving at a snail’s pace toward five p.m. She knew from experience just how long five minutes could feel, especially when filled with helpless terror. She’d forgotten just how pleasurable those same minutes could be when her heart was thudding and her stomach churned with nervous excitement. The clock-watching helped keep her from twitching out of her skin.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the alcove where the elevators opened. Thirty seconds to go. She had a bet with herself that Carrie would materialize on the dot of five.

  “You’re early.”

  Gina jumped and spun around. Her heart made a bid for freedom, pounding against the back of her ribs. “Whoa.”

  “Scare you?”

  “Nope,” Gina said, recovering her cool as quickly as she could. “You’re early too, by the way. Twenty-two seconds, to be exact.”

  Carrie laughed. “You’re timing me?”

  “Just a little bet with myself. Where’d you come from?”

  “Oh!” Carrie pointed behind her. “I came down the staircase. The hall behind the columns turns left into the admin wing. It seems silly to walk all the way around to the elevators. I don’t even know why they added one, way on the other side of the lobby.”

  “You see that a lot in old buildings like this,” Gina said as they walked out through the main hospital doors, down the marble steps, and along the flagstone walkways between flower beds and stone benches shaded by maple trees. “The administration wing was added after the main body of the hospital—about eighty years ago, I think.” She shrugged. “You always have to break through a wall somewhere with an addition, and a lot of times the easiest way to do that is to connect where it works structurally, but not necessarily for flow…” She trailed off and glanced at Carrie. “And you probably didn’t need to know that, did you.”

  Carrie shook her head. “I love learning the history of this place. I’ve never worked anywhere like it before. The hospital itself is like…” She caught her lip between her teeth, sighed. “I know it sounds a little crazy, but it feels alive. Like an important member of the community.”

  “Hey, it doesn’t sound strange to me. And besides, you’re right. The history of this whole town lives in this place. Almost everyone was born here, almost everyone has someone who’s died here. If the community has a heart, this is it.”

  “It must feel special to think about adding to it,” Carrie said. “In a hundred years, someone will probably be talking about the addition you put on.”

  “Let’s hope they’re not cursing it. But yeah, it feels like a responsibility and an honor both.” Gina slipped her palm under Carrie’s elbow, guiding her onto a gravel walkway. “My truck’s over here.”

  “I can follow you in my car,” Carrie said. “Then you won’t have to drive me back after the game.”

  Gina shook her head and opened the passenger side of her truck. “I don’t mind. Besides, I don’t think you’ll want to take that pretty little car where we’re going.”

  “Oh? Where are we going?”

  Gina grinned. “Field trip.”

  Carrie stopped dead. “Ah, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing a skirt and sandals with heels. I’m not equipped to go hiking.”

  “Oh, I noticed the skirt. And I like the sandals, even if they seem impractical.” Gina held out her hand and Carrie took it, automatically climbing up into the truck.

  “Impractical? Oh my God. What a heathen.”

  “Guilty.” Gina leaned against the door, her grin widening. “Don’t worry, though. I promise you won’t have to walk very far, and if the going gets too rough, I’ll carry you.”

  Carrie threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, right. That’s so not happening.”

  “Offer stands.” Gina closed the door, sprinted around to the other side, and climbed behind the wheel. She headed down the winding road to town, turned left, and in five minutes, they were driving through the countryside.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Carrie asked.

  Gina shook her head. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did that.”

  “I don’t remember you saying that it was going to be a surprise dinner.”

  “It was kind of a spur-of-the moment thing.”

  “Dinner, or the surprise part?”

  Gina glanced over at her. Carrie had rolled the window down, and the wind blew her hair into long gleaming golden red tangles. “How come you’re not complaining about your hair?”

  Carrie frowned. “My hair? Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

  Gina reached over and caught some of the flyaway strands in her fingers, the back of her hand lightly brushing Carrie’s neck. “Not a thing. It’s just you’re not fussing about the wind messing it up.”

  Carrie shifted to face her, and Gina’s fingers rested against the side of her jaw for a fleeting instant. Carrie tensed, and Gina slowly pulled her hand back and settled it on the wheel.

  “Do women usually complain about that when you’re driving?”

  “It doesn’t come up very often,” Gina said, her voice dropping.

  “I don’t mind it. I’m in love with the air around here,” Carrie said. “I’ve never smelled air so good, and I love the way it feels on my skin. So if you don’t mind a few tangles, nei
ther do I.”

  Gina steadfastly stared straight ahead. The churning in her stomach had moved on to a full burn. Carrie had no idea how sensual she looked with a faint flush to her cheeks, a bright gleam in her eyes, and a mane of red hair framing her face. The sexy shirt and skirt were a nice addition, but she would have looked just as heart-stopping in a faded T and jeans. “I like your hair a lot. I especially like it when it’s a little messed up.”

  “I’m really afraid that you’re referring to bedhead. Did I have bedhead this morning?”

  Gina shot her a quick look, remembering how hot she’d looked in that tank top and boxer shorts and no shoes. “You looked gorgeous this morning. Made it kinda hard to breathe, to tell you the truth.”

  “Well,” Carrie said, instantly breathless herself. “I won’t take issue with that.”

  If Gina kept saying things like that to her while looking at her as if she wanted to peel her clothes off, she was going to combust. Thankfully, Gina put her blinker on and turned down a narrow dirt lane that rapidly deteriorated into an overgrown tractor path. The rough excuse for a road demanded all her attention and gave Carrie a chance to corral her runaway libido.

  “I’m very glad we’re not walking,” Carrie said. “And you were right about my car. I can’t believe your truck actually fits down here.”

  “We’re almost there. Doing all right?”

  “I’m good.” Carrie glanced behind her as Gina turned into a stand of pines. She could no longer see the road. The air was noticeably cooler as dappled sunlight streamed through the dense branches overhead. She heard birds and nothing else. “Where are we?”

  “On the back border of my grandmother’s farm.”

  “So you are from around here,” Carrie said, feeling as if she’d won the lottery with that little tidbit. “Where does your grandmother live?”

  “She doesn’t. She passed on five years ago. I live in her house, and this is my land now.”

  “Oh.” Carrie craned her neck and couldn’t see anything that looked like pastures or a farmhouse. “Do you live here?”