by Radclyffe
Nita’s resolve wavered. Deo was angry, but her eyes were soft. Soft and gentle, and wounded. Nita wanted to believe that Deo wanted more than her body. She wanted to give in to the longing to confess her fears and uncertainty, but she didn’t trust her own needs. She’d lost herself once, and Deo unhinged her in much the same way Sylvia had. She couldn’t deny her physical urges, or even control them when Deo was around, but she could keep from risking her sanity again. She eased out of Deo’s grip. “I’m sorry. I’m not interested in anything more than last night.”
“Last night was already more than just sex.” Deo kicked into Docksiders and headed toward the hall. “You can pretend anything you want.”
Silently, Nita followed her retreating back. It might work. If she could somehow just keep her affair with Deo in the bedroom. And keep Deo out of her mind.
*
An hour later Deo slammed into the real estate office, dripping water in streams onto the floor.
Elana Torres broke off talking with Pia, who sat on the corner of her desk, and regarded Deo with surprise. “Something on fire? Hard to believe with the weather.”
“Joey around?” Deo said, stomping over to her desk to collect her messages.
“He’s got an appointment with me in an hour for therapy,” Pia said. “Considering the weather, he probably just figured he’d show up at the job—”
“We work whether it rains or shines. He knows that.” Deo grabbed her mail and shuffled through it, scarcely able to read the addresses through her fury. When she had dropped Nita off, Nita had kissed her on the cheek and thanked her for a great time before sliding out of the truck and disappearing without a backward glance. Thanked her! Jesus Christ. What was she now, a fucking gigolo?
Pia appeared at her elbow and asked in a low voice, “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, crap, Deo. Don’t pull that with me.”
Deo tossed aside her mail and stabbed the button on her answering machine. Nita’s voice hit her like a hammer. Deo, it’s Nita—
“Fuck,” Deo seethed, punching the stop button.
“Ah ha.” Pia tugged Deo’s sleeve. “Let’s go have coffee.”
“I’ve got to get out to the site.”
“It’s pouring, Deo. There’s not much work going to happen today.”
With a sigh, Deo surrendered and let Pia drag her to a coffee shop around the corner.
“So, what gives?” Pia asked.
“I don’t know. I wish I did.” Deo pushed her coffee aside. Her stomach was queasy.
“Let me guess. Nita.”
Deo nodded.
“You slept with her.”
“Yeah.”
Pia sighed. “Deo, sweetie. Nita is not like your usual…girlfriends. I mean, some of them I’ve really liked, but… they were goodtime girls. Party girls. Nita is, I don’t know, deeper than that.”
“What’s your point,” Deo grumbled.
“I love you, you know that, right?” Pia gently stroked Deo’s hand. “Right?”
“Just say it, Pia.” Deo was tired, and her head hurt, and—worse—her heart hurt.
“I just mean, she probably expected something besides goodbye in the morning.”
Deo laughed bitterly. “Wrong. What she expected was I’d be available next time she wanted a dependable fuck. Other than that, she’s not interested in my company.”
Pia’s jaw dropped. After a second, her eyes narrowed. “She said that? She said that to my cousin! Why that—”
“Whoa. Whoa. Easy.” Deo laughed in spite of herself. “Even you just said that’s about all I’m good for.”
“That’s different. I can say it about you if I want to.” She closed her fingers over Deo’s hand. “What am I not understanding here?”
“Nita and I…we’ve got this thing, this energy between us,” Deo said, feeling helpless. “More than physical. But she doesn’t want it to be about anything except sex.”
“Because she thinks you’re a player and won’t ever change?”
“I don’t know. I think…I think she’s okay having sex with me, because she can control that.”
“She can? That doesn’t sound like you.”
Deo remembered the way it felt when Nita teased her right up to the edge of coming while refusing to let Deo touch her. It was maddening and frustrating and made her come harder than she’d ever come in her life. And if she didn’t stop thinking about it now, she was going to have to drive out to the beach for a little solo action in the truck before she went to work. “It’s different with her.”
“Uh-huh.” Pia rested her chin in her hand. “So her reluctance isn’t necessarily about you and your fucked up ways.”
“Thanks, Cuz.” Deo couldn’t very well say that Nita had been abused by some woman and acted like Deo would treat her the same way. She rubbed her eyes, wishing she was still in bed and Nita was holding her the way she had this morning when she was still half asleep, stroking her and making her feel like she belonged somewhere. “There’s some other stuff going on. I don’t think it’s all about me.”
“Good,” Pia said briskly, sitting back in her seat. “Because if it was just that she didn’t like you for anything other than your talented hands and your hot mou—”
“Jesus, Pia. Cut it out.” Deo blushed. “You’re my cousin. You’re not supposed to say stuff like that.”
“Oh, please. I’ve been listening to girls swoon over your skills for years.” Pia smiled as Deo squirmed. “Does she really mean something to you? It’s not just your ego acting up because you’ve finally run into a woman who doesn’t want any more from you than you’re usually willing to give?”
“No. She makes me…” Deo’s throat tightened and she looked away until the tension in her throat eased. “She makes me feel like I matter.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Pia whispered. “You do.”
“Yeah, well. You’ve always made me feel that way. But this is different.”
“I know.” Pia stroked Deo’s clenched fist where it rested on the table. “If Nita doesn’t trust you or what she’s feeling for you, then prove to her that she can.”
“How,” Deo whispered.
“Don’t give up.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nita stared at the lab report, but she didn’t register the values. Her mind was completely consumed with Deo. Exactly what she feared would happen was happening. She craved her. The way her skin slid under her fingertips, the way her breath wafted over her breast as she slept, the way her eyes gleamed when she was pleased or being pleasured. She ached to hear Deo murmur her name and to feel the tender touch of her fingertips against the small of her back. She longed to share her thoughts, knowing she could tell her anything because she had already confessed her worst secret and her greatest shame, and Deo had not rejected her. She’d only to recall the soft brush of Deo’s hot mouth on her tense and waiting flesh and she was ready to explode.
“God, not again,” she whispered.
“Nita?”
“Oh, sorry,” Nita blurted, feeling herself color when she realized Tory was standing in front of her desk. She hadn’t even heard her come in. “I was just…” She lifted the paperwork in explanation.
“I hate to bother you but Reese is here, and there’s a problem.”
Immediately, Nita stood, her first thought of Deo up on a roof in this gale. Her stomach lurched. “Is someone hurt?”
“Oh,” Tory said quickly. “No. I’m sorry. It’s something else. She’s next door in my office. Come over when you can.”
“I’ll come right now,” Nita said, hurrying to join Tory.
Reese turned from the photographs she had been perusing on the wall and nodded to Nita, her expression grim. “How are you this morning, Nita?”
“I’m fine, Reese,” Nita said, grateful for how much practice she had in allowing her professional performance to hide her emotional chaos. She wondered what people would think if they knew she was so de
sperate to see and touch another woman she was practically coming apart. Knowing that her urgency stemmed from her long relationship with Sylvia and the uncertain, often frantic nature of their interludes, didn’t make the desperate longing any easier to tolerate. But she’d had a lot of practice living with unrequited need too. “Is there some problem with the post on the victim from last night?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Reese gestured to the chairs in front of Tory’s desk and waited until Nita sat beside Tory, then said, “We received a bulletin about an hour ago that seriously bad weather is headed our way. In fact, there’s better than an eighty percent chance we’re going to see hurricane force winds up and down the Cape in about seventy-two hours.”
Nita started. “Here? I’ve never heard of a hurricane this far north.”
“Apparently, it happens every twenty or thirty years or so.” Reese lifted her shoulder. “Depending upon wind patterns and ocean temperatures, hurricanes have tracked up the coast this far or even farther.”
“I’m on the disaster response committee,” Tory explained to Nita, “and all of the emergency personnel—EMTs, fire rescue, the Sheriff’s Department—will be on twenty-four hour alert until this is over. If you’re planning to stay—”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Nita interrupted.
“The Cape is only a mile or so wide at this point,” Reese pointed out. “We’re going to get flooding and the roads will probably go out. We’ll definitely lose power.”
“In other words, things are going to get nasty,” Nita said, “and we’re going to be cut off from the rest of the Cape and the mainland.”
“Very possibly,” Reese replied.
Nita looked at Tory. “There are going to be injuries, not to mention the usual medical emergencies.”
“Yes,” Tory said. “And if it really gets bad, we’re not going to be able to transport people out, possibly for days.”
“I’m staying.” Nita turned to Reese. “I know you’ve already got a plan in place, but can you just run it down for me.”
“You and Tory will oversee all emergency medical management. Make sure the clinic is well stocked, and if you can identify patients who could get into trouble without immediate access to hospital facilities, get a list to me so we can evacuate them now.”
“We’ve got a handful of patients who drive to Hyannis for dialysis or have home units,” Tory informed her lover. “They would be better off on the mainland just in case we’re looking at four or five days without power. Even generator backup might not be enough.”
“I’m following two children with sleep apnea using positive pressure ventilators at night,” Nita pointed out. “We should advise those families.”
“Yes.” Tory grabbed a notepad and started taking notes. “Reese, when you make the general announcement, remind everyone that they should be certain to have enough medication to last ten days along with all the other necessities. Bottled water, batteries, lanterns, packaged foods—the usual disaster items.”
“I’ll call the hardware stores as soon as we’re done to let them know there’s going to be a run.” Reese dropped her hand to Tory’s shoulder as she wrote and caressed her softly. “Gladys and the Chief are working on an announcement right now and we’ll get it out on the radio within the hour.”
“Nelson? Don’t tell me he’s in the office,” Tory said with a frown.
“He’s at home for the time being. He threatened to come in, so I sent Gladys over there to keep him in the loop. That’s as quiet as we’re going to be able to keep him.”
“What about the extended care facility?” Nita glanced at Tory. Between the two of them they did site visits once or twice a week to the elderly residents of Beech Forest Manor. She could think of at least a dozen patients who were bedridden or who required intensive care around the clock.
“Reese?” Tory asked.
“Several of the officers are on their way there now to talk to the facilities director,” Reese informed them. “We’re hoping that most can stay with family members off Cape. As for those who can’t be relocated within the next twenty-four hours or who have nowhere to go, we’ll move them to a more central location if we have to.”
“Town Hall?” Tory asked.
Reese nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, or the church, or both depending on how many people we have without power or whose houses sustain structural damage.”
“Should we evacuate the whole town?” Nita questioned.
“Currently, we’re recommending that people leave voluntarily,” Reese answered. “But even if the state orders an evacuation, you know not everyone is willing or able to leave.”
Tory sighed. “I know.” She covered Reese’s hand with hers as she continued to make notes with the other. “Neither one of us is going to get home much until this is over. Will you call Jean and Kate and ask them to take the baby and the dog.” Tory met Reese’s gaze. “And leave today.”
Reese leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Already done. They’ll stop by here so you can say goodbye to Reggie, and then they’re going to drive to your sister’s.”
“That sounds great. It will make keeping in touch with everyone easier.” Tory rubbed her cheek absently against Reese’s arm. “Thank you, darling.”
Nita averted her gaze, feeling as if she were intruding on a private moment, even though there was nothing inappropriate about anything Reese and Tory said or did. Still, every gesture, every intonation, every unspoken word was so intimate, it left her aching. Totally without volition, she thought of Deo and was struck by an overwhelming urge to call her. She just wanted to connect with her before the world went crazy.
“What should we do about regular patient hours?” Nita asked, trying to maintain her focus. She couldn’t think about Deo now, even though part of her wanted nothing else.
“For today, we’ll keep them as they are,” Tory said. “I’ll have Randy call everyone who’s scheduled for the following week and bring the urgent ones in tomorrow. The rest we can reschedule if we need to.”
“Sounds like we have a plan.” Reese cupped the back of Tory’s neck and kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you. Don’t work too late.”
Tory gripped Reese’s arm and kissed her mouth. “Be careful.”
“Always,” Reese murmured. She straightened, nodded to Nita, and strode out.
Nita watched her go, appreciating why men and women would follow her into battle. She radiated not just confidence and competence, but that supreme certainty that defined command presence. Nita recognized it because her father had it. So did Sylvia, except Sylvia’s confidence was laced with cruelty. Unlike Reese, Sylvia was motivated by power, and sex was her weapon. Nita had been as enthralled by Sylvia’s power as she had been subjugated by it. Now she wondered why.
“Please let me know what I can do,” Nita said, rising. “I’m going to get back to seeing patients.”
“Thanks.” Tory caught Nita’s hand. “And thanks for staying. If this gets as bad as Reese thinks, we’re really going to need you.”
“This is my home now. I’m not leaving.”
“I almost forgot—your house! You’d better call Deo and make sure she knows what’s coming.”
“If we get a break, I’ll run down there and talk to her,” Nita said quickly before she could think about what she was doing and change her mind.
“Go now. We can handle things here. And who knows when you may get another chance.”
“I won’t be long,” Nita said, already starting for the door. Her heart speeded up with anticipation, and she didn’t even try to pretend it wasn’t because she would soon see Deo.
*
“Deo!” Joey yelled up the stairwell. “You got company.”
“In a minute,” Deo called back, bracing the plywood against the new French doors with her shoulder as she rapidly drilled in four screws to hold the wood in place. She scanned Nita’s bedroom. It was as secure as they were going to get it. Putting the drill aside, she
dusted off her hands on her pants and started down the stairs. She slowed as she reached the bottom. Nita was waiting for her.
“Sorry, I know you’re busy,” Nita said uneasily.
“That’s okay.” Seeing Joey’s avid stare, Deo took Nita’s arm and led her into the dining room out of earshot of her cousin and the other guys. “I thought you were at the clinic?”
“I am. I was—I…” she swept her arm to take in the rest of the house. The ground floor windows were already covered with plywood to protect the new glass from the expected winds. “I guess you know about the storm?”
“Contractors live and die by weather bulletins—just like fishermen.” Deo shrugged. “Don’t worry about this place. We’ll get it buttoned up tight.”
“I’m not worried about the house.” Nita realized she had no good reason for running across town and Deo must know that. Oddly, she didn’t care that her motives were transparent. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be standing up on the roof when things got bad.”
“Once we finish here, I’m going into town. There’s a disaster response team—”
“I know about it. Reese was just out to the clinic.”
“I volunteer. Helping the merchants board up their storefronts, getting boats into dry dock, whatever heavy lifting needs to be done,” Deo admitted almost shyly.
“That sounds critical—and difficult. It’s already raining harder, and the wind is coming up.” Nita touched Deo’s hand briefly and just the fleeting contact calmed the wild churning in her stomach. “Don’t worry about this place. Go do what you have to do so you won’t be out there when this gets worse.”
“Worried about me?” Deo grinned, but her eyes held no hint of laughter.
Deo’s searching look was so intense that Nita couldn’t help but lean toward her. The ache of emptiness she had been carrying since they’d parted suddenly filled with heat. She gasped.
“What?” Deo’s voice was low, husky. She caressed the outside of Nita’s arm from her elbow to her shoulder and down again. “What?”
