by Julie Cannon
“That’s your job dear. Mine is being a mother and I can ask whatever I want. So are you going to answer my question?”
Kyle shook her head as she poked her fork into the hot lasagna, releasing a funnel of steam from the soft pasta. “Yes, Mom, I’m going to dinner with Lane.”
“That’s wonderful Kyle. You need to get out more.”
Kyle didn’t argue on this point. “You’re right.”
“Why don’t we keep Hollie for the night,” her mother suggested happily. “That way you won’t have to disturb her to take her home.”
“You sure you don’t mind?” Kyle wondered why she even asked that question. Her parents jumped at every opportunity to spend time with their grandchild.
“You should know better than that. We love spending time with Hollie. Why do you think we didn’t move to Florida when we retired?”
Moving to Florida was a running joke in their family even though Kyle knew her parents were not the type to sit around and play canasta and bingo three times a week. “Thanks Mom. Hollie loves being with you and Dad, too.” They chatted for a few more minutes and by the time her mother hung up, Kyle’s dinner was cool enough to eat.
*
The week dragged like molasses in winter for Lane. Her thoughts kept drifting to Kyle and their date on Saturday. She expected the dance would be as enjoyable as their dinner together, but she was nervous about what would come after. She had no idea why she’d asked Kyle to go dancing. She hadn’t danced in years. Her ex, Maria had been self conscious about her dancing ability and would not set foot on the dance floor until she’d had at least four cocktails. Maria’s coordination then disappeared along with her inhibitions, making the entire effort pointless.
Every morning that week Lane waited expectantly for Kyle to make her usual appearance on the patio of the The SandPiper. By Friday she was on pins and needles, afraid that Kyle was going to cancel their date, and when she called to confirm later in the day, Lane finally relaxed. She was thrilled at the excitement in Kyle’s voice and the long awaited knock on her front door could not come soon enough.
This evening Kyle was wearing impeccably cut tan trousers, a tan print silk shirt, and a dark brown double breasted blazer. “Stunning” was the only word that came to Lane’s mind. There was an equally descriptive word that came to mind when she felt the rhythm of her blood pound between her legs and that word was “lust.” Lane realized that she was staring, and Kyle was still standing on her porch.
“I’m sorry, come in,” she stammered, embarrassed by her reaction and lack of manners.
“Thanks. These are for you.” No shit, Sherlock.
“They’re lovely.” Lane accepted the bouquet of daisies and stepped away from the door as Kyle crossed the threshold. “I can’t remember the last time a woman brought me flowers.” Other than on my death bed. And then she left. Thanks, Maria. Very classy.
“That’s a shame. A beautiful woman should always receive flowers.”
“Thanks.” Lane knew she was blushing slightly and turned away to conceal the fact. “Come in the kitchen while I put these in some water.”
Lane’s reaction to the flowers washed away the uncertainty Kyle had experienced standing in the flower shop on her way over. She must have been there fifteen minutes trying to decide if she should even bring flowers. In her mind bringing flowers to a woman you were dating was expected. What troubled her was whether she was ready to cross that line from dinner to dating. The line was more like the Grand Canyon as far as Kyle was concerned, and she could only imagine what it would feel like if she made it to the other side.
“Wow.” Kyle made a slow circle impressed by the kitchen that was almost as large as her living room. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, you do own a restaurant so it’s probably safe to assume that you’re a pretty good cook.”
Lane laughed as she took the flowers out of the paper and laid them on the counter. “I can see now why you’re a detective.”
Kyle smiled. “Touché.” Kyle liked Lane’s sense of humor.
“Do you bring flowers to all your dates?” Lane froze not believing what she just asked.
“Not recently.” Kyle answered tentatively. This certainly was not a question she expected.
To Lane there was no turning back so she jumped in with both feet. “And why is that?”
Kyle wondered where this conversation was heading. “I haven’t gone out much.”
Lane was surprised at the admission. Kyle was very attractive and almost certainly had women falling all over her. “I can’t imagine you spending many evenings alone.” Kyle’s eyebrows raised in tandem. “I mean, look at you. You’re, you’re…” Lane gestured with her hands palms up struggling with the right phrase. “Hot,” she finally blurted out. It was the only word that adequately described Kyle.
Lane’s description of her was more appropriate to the way she was feeling than the way she thought she looked. She was glad that Lane found her attractive, but if she didn’t stop looking at her like she was right now, Kyle was afraid she would spontaneously combust.
“Let’s just say I’ve had other priorities occupying my time.” Kyle glanced at the clock on the wall confident the priority she referred to was fast asleep in her parent’s house.
Kyle wasn’t quite ready to answer personal questions but knew she would have to sooner or later if she continued to see Lane. Lane reached to pull a vase down from above the stove, and Kyle caught a glimpse of bare thigh, her mouth suddenly very dry. She tilted her head just a bit to get a better view and it was at that moment, Lane turned around and caught her looking.
“You’re busted, Detective.” Lane teased.
Kyle laughed, her gaze returning to the slit in the soft skirt Lane was wearing. “Guilty as charged ma’am. However I have the right to remain silent because anything I say you might hold against me. And let me tell you, the way you look tonight you can hold any part of you, I, uh, mean anything against me you’d like.”
Kyle’s slip of the tongue was intentional. She was not usually this bold in conveying her appraisal of women, but she had never seen a woman as striking as Lane was tonight.
The look in Kyle’s eyes could not be mistaken for anything other than passion, and it took Lane’s breath away. She was simultaneously thrilled and frightened and didn’t know which one to follow. She took the safe way and chose both.
“I’ll remember that.” She winked at Kyle and touched her arm as she walked to the chair that held her jacket. “Ready?”
Several different scenarios flashed through Kyle’s mind as she helped Lane with her jacket. She let her hands linger on her shoulders after the garment was in place. She leaned in close to her ear. “Whenever you are.”
*
Dinner was at a new Chinese restaurant that Lane recommended. As they sipped their tea, Kyle could not keep her eyes off Lane sitting across the table. She was ravishingly beautiful, and if she wasn’t careful, that might be how the evening would end, with Kyle ravishing her. If I make it that long. The candle light flickered on Lane’s face, revealing only a hint of makeup. She had pulled her hair back into a French knot accentuating her long throat. Kyle almost choked when she saw Lane swallow.
“Kyle?”
“Yes.”
“Your dinner’s here.” Lane was amused that her date didn’t appear to have noticed the waiter hovering by her right arm delicately balancing the numerous plates and bowls.
Kyle jerked as Lane’s words permeated her head that was thick with desire. “Sorry,” she apologized to the waiter. She gathered herself as he arranged the plates and handed her chopsticks. “Thank you.”
After a few moments Kyle realized that Lane was frowning and not eating. “Is there something wrong with dinner?”
“No, I’m sure it’s very good.” Lane felt foolish. “I never mastered the use of chopsticks.” She looked around the table for any sign of a fork.
Kyle laughed. “You own a restaurant and you don’t know
how to use chopsticks? Isn’t that kind of like not knowing how to boil water?” She knew Lane would not be offended by her teasing.
“You’re not as good of a detective as I thought. I don’t own a Chinese restaurant. The closest thing I have to Chinese food is hot tea.” Lane tried her best to keep from smiling but failed miserably.
“Here, let me show you.” Kyle spent the next few minutes showing Lane how to maneuver the ancient eating utensils, all to no avail. Lane had more food fall back in her plate than in her mouth.
Frustrated at her inability to use the utensils, Lane muttered, “I’m going to starve to death.”
“Here.” Kyle reached over the small table with a juicy piece of chicken clasped tightly in her chopsticks. “Open.”
Lane complied and Kyle unerringly placed the meat in her mouth.
“Mmm, either that’s delicious or I’m so hungry from the effort to try to eat anything is good.” Lane mimicked Kyle’s fingers working the chopsticks once again and failed.
“I admire your persistence. Open.” This time there was a mixture of rice and vegetables with the meat. “You’ll get the hang of it. It took me weeks to figure it out.”
“That’s comforting,” Lane replied with her mouth full of food. “I’d rather have a fork.”
Kyle laughed as she took a bite for herself. She gathered up more food. “But this is much more fun, don’t you think?”
Mischief danced in her eyes, and Lane decided to play along in a slightly different way. She slowly opened her mouth and sensuously extended her tongue to lightly sample the flavor of the chicken dumpling Kyle offered her. Her stomach flipped when Kyle’s eyes darkened and slightly glazed over. Bingo! When Kyle offered another piece, Lane seductively took the dripping meat from the chopsticks.
Holy Christ! Kyle stopped breathing when Lane’s tongue peeked out and slowly licked the remaining juice off her lips. Her blood roared in her ears and her crotch throbbed as she imagined that tongue in a much different place. Her body flushed with desire.
“Kyle? Are you all right?”
Are you kidding? Fuck no! Kyle blinked several times to clear the erotic vision. “Yes, I’m fine.”
Liar. Lane waited expectantly for another bite and this time noticed a slight trembling of Kyle’s outstretched hand. Lane locked eyes with the detective who was valiantly attempting to disguise her arousal. The eyes. Your eyes give you away. She didn’t break contact until she had swallowed the entire delicious morsel.
“You’re right, this is much more fun than a boring fork.”
A small twitch registered under Kyle’s right eye, the only physical indication that she’d heard her sultry response. Lane didn’t pick her chopsticks up again for the remainder of the meal. If Kyle’s response to her teasing was any indication of what was to come, Lane couldn’t wait to get her on the dance floor.
Chapter Six
Kyle felt the pulse of the music before she opened the door to the exclusive Bay Club. Her trained eye detected several professional security guards discretely stationed around the parking lot, and she relaxed a little. She reached for her wallet to pay the cover charge.
Lane placed her hand over Kyle’s. “No, it was my invitation, I’ll pay.” The expression on her face clearly said that there would be no further discussion.
They stepped inside and Kyle felt all eyes turn their way. The familiar feeling of being on display when she entered a bar, any bar, returned. The Bay Club was no exception. Lane must have felt the overt scrutiny too because she stepped closer and slipped her hand into Kyle’s.
“Something to drink?” Kyle asked, leading them toward one of many bars strategically placed around the large room.
Lane noticed more than a few women casually watching her date cross the crowded room. Kyle appeared to be oblivious of the appreciative stares, but Kyle’s fingers clasped her hand tighter. She didn’t know if Kyle intended to signal to the women in the room that she was with Lane, but her possessive body language just felt right. When Kyle released her hand to pay for their drinks, Lane felt like she had lost her lifeline.
Kyle handed Lane her beer and spotted an empty table far from the stage where the speakers towered over the dancers. She reclaimed Lane’s hand and confidently headed to the table. Kyle moved the only stool so it faced the dance floor and indicated for Lane to sit. She stepped beside her so that she too could see the door. She scanned the room and took note of several prominent women from the area. The dance floor filled up as the band played a variety of music.
“See anything interesting?” Lane asked.
Kyle’s eyes never stopped moving as she continually surveyed her surroundings and for some reason, her vigilance made Lane feel safe. The only exception was when Kyle dropped her gaze to meet Lane’s. Those long, hot stares made Lane feel like she was the only woman in the room, and the one Kyle desired.
“I see a spot on the dance floor that has our name on it.” Kyle put her beer on the table and held out her hand. “Shall we?”
Lane’s pulse jumped to a rapid tempo, and her mouth was suddenly dry with anticipation. Her hand trembled slightly as she placed it in Kyle’s. “Yes, definitely.”
Kyle was a fabulous dancer, a few inches taller than Lane, and their bodies fit together perfectly. The band switched to a country song and they straddled each other’s legs allowing them to glide. Lane’s eyes were in direct line with Kyle’s mouth. Trouble, she thought as Kyle’s arm tightened around her and they moved effortlessly across the dance floor. Kyle’s steps were so sure that Lane didn’t have to concentrate on her own. Losing herself in the music and the warm strength of Kyle’s body, she allowed her mind to drift.
She hadn’t realized how much she missed human contact, intimate human contact until Kyle held her in her arms. Her friends and family hugged her when they got together, but those were perfunctory, simple, platonic hugs. She thought hard to remember the last time Maria held her tenderly. It had to have been months before she became ill, and a fleeting moment of emptiness washed over her because at the time Lane hadn’t even realized it was happening.
Lane focused on Kyle and how sexy she felt in her arms. Could it have only been a little more than a week since Kyle came back into her life? It seemed like much longer, like she had always been part of her life. Lane often thought she actually had two lives. Her first life was before she fell ill, in which she took everything for granted and in which she and Maria would grow old together. Her second life began the day she woke up after her transplant. She realized that she had been given a second chance and had vowed to embrace every day.
Lane remembered that she always hated those first few dates with someone new. The small talk and getting to know each other, each woman on her best behavior. It was always such an effort, and most of the time she remembered it was a waste of time. But she didn’t feel that way about Kyle. It was as if they had done all of that and knew enough about each other to simply just be comfortable with each other. Lane knew that wasn’t true, she hardly knew anything about Kyle, but it felt as if she did. There was a connection that had sprung to the surface in her new life, and being with Kyle just felt right. And being in her arms was more than just right. It was perfect.
“You’re an excellent dancer.”
“Thank you, I’ll pass the compliment on to my mother. She insisted that I take lessons when I was in the seventh grade. It was the most humiliating time in my life.” Kyle smiled at the memory of her awkward adolescence. Her attraction to girls was still a mass of confusion, and all she could do during dance lessons was fight the boys who partnered her for the lead and step on their toes.
“I never would have imagined anything humiliating happening to you. You’re always so calm and self assured.”
Kyle laughed. When it came to Lane she was anything but. “I was thirteen years old, taller than everyone in the school and had stringy hair and big feet. And I had just discovered I liked girls and not boys. Needless to say it was a time in my life
that I am very glad is over.”
Lane put some distance between them running her eyes over her dance partner, liking what she saw. “Well, I must say you certainly outgrew all of that.”
Kyle laughed, slightly uncomfortable at the compliment. Missing the feeling of Lane’s body against hers, Kyle pulled her back into her embrace.
Four songs later, Kyle led Lane back to the table. Lane settled on the stool and crossed her legs affording Kyle a view of a dozen inches of tanned skin. Kyle almost reached out to touch the tantalizing expanse but stopped herself and instead signaled the waitress for another round of drinks.
They danced together throughout the evening. Holding Lane in her arms was both a tortuous experience and the most exhilarating Kyle had experienced in a long time. Her pulse beat in direct contrast to the speed of the songs they danced to. The slower the song, the faster her blood raced through her veins, fanning the flame smoldering inside her. She was a master at controlling her outward emotions, but the desire raging inside was another matter altogether. She was acutely aware of the smell of Lane’s shampoo and the way their bodies fit as if they were made for each other. During one particular ballad, Kyle caught their reflection in the mirrors that adorned the south wall and missed a step. They both stumbled, and she pulled Lane closer to keep her from falling. “Sorry.”
Lane didn’t reply.The breath was sucked out of her lungs by a jolt of desire that exploded in her groin. Her legs trembled and she could feel her panties soaking. Acutely aware of Kyle’s body against hers, she tried to use the dance steps to disguise her physical reactions. She thought about making some excuse and going back to their table, but her mouth refused to form the words. She was in no position to fight the nearness even if she wanted to.
A little after midnight, Lane was light-headed but didn’t know if it was from the physical exertion of dancing or simply from being held in Kyle’s arms. They stepped back from one another in a break between songs. Lane’s chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. “One final dance?” Kyle’s green eyes bored into her own all the way to her soul.
