by Radclyffe
The four friends laughed, and reluctantly, Honor rose. She extended her hand and tugged Quinn to her feet. While Robin and Linda roused their children, Honor walked Quinn to the back door. Outside on the porch, in the shadows, she wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck and pressed close to her. Just before her lips found Quinn’s, she whispered throatily, “I love the way you feel.”
Quinn circled her arms about Honor’s waist and lost herself in the swirling kiss—aware only of Honor’s breasts against hers, Honor’s hands stroking her neck and back, Honor’s thigh edging firmly between hers.
“Uh...my advice would be to take this upstairs,” Linda remarked dryly from a few feet away.
Honor leaned back in Quinn’s arms and regarded her friend lazily. “Why, thank you so much. I never would have thought of that.”
Grinning, Quinn slowly eased away from Honor. “Night, Linda.” Then she kissed Honor gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Be careful going home,” Honor murmured, lightly stroking Quinn’s cheek. She watched as Quinn descended the stairs and disappeared into the night, then turned back to Linda. “Great timing.”
“You should thank me.” Linda laughed and threaded her arm around Honor’s waist as they walked back into the living room. “Think how embarrassed you would have been to find yourself stark naked on the floor of your back porch when you finally came to your senses.”
Honor had the briefest flash of herself and Terry, nearly naked and in a similar position, when Phyllis had discovered them what seemed like a lifetime ago. She gave Linda an affectionate squeeze. “I’ll let you know when I’m in need of rescuing.”
As Linda hefted one of her children and Robin the other, Linda smirked. “I think it’s too late for that.”
Honor kissed both of her friends at the door, then carried her own sleeping child off to bed. She tucked Arly in, switched on the action hero night-light, and leaned in the doorway regarding her child. She thought of all the nights she had stood there wishing that Terry could share the incredible wonder of watching Arly grow up. Of all the nights that she had lain down to sleep alone wondering how she could face the rest of her life while feeling so empty inside.
As she walked back to her solitary bed, she realized that what she felt now, where there had once been only loneliness and pain, was excitement and, distantly, hope. She turned on the bedside lamp and crossed to the dresser that stood against one wall. The detritus of her ordinary days lay scattered across the top—keys, spare change, a fountain pen, a few scraps of paper with unrecognizable telephone numbers scrawled on them. There was also a jewelry box and a framed photo of Terry that had been taken at a softball game a few months before she had been killed. She looked incredibly young and vital in gym shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt, her glove tucked under one arm, a broad grin on her wildly attractive face.
Honor picked up the photo and held it in both hands, turning it in the light and watching the reflections in the glass sparkle from Terry’s eyes. Briefly, she touched her fingertips to Terry’s face. “I love you. You know that, right? Forever and always.”
Tenderly, she placed the photo back in the center of her dresser. Then she very carefully removed her wedding ring and placed it in the jewelry box. She stared at it, a dusty gold against the black velvet, before she gently closed the lid.
Chapter Twenty-One
Honor opened the refrigerator and removed a container of orange juice. She carried it to the counter by the sink, lifted a glass from the dish drainer, and filled it. Phyllis sat behind her at the kitchen table, her coffee and morning paper at hand.
“I asked Quinn to go to the Annenberg with me on Friday night,” Honor said quietly, turning to face her mother-in-law. “Can you watch Arly?”
“I’m free,” Phyllis said. “I’ll take her to see that new animated movie she’s been talking about.”
“That would be great. Thanks.” Honor hesitated, reaching unconsciously to the ring on her left hand. The shock of its absence was momentarily distracting.
Phyllis watched the familiar movement, saw what had caused the odd expression on Honor’s face, and then slowly raised her eyes to the uncertain brown ones that waited as if for judgment. “I like Quinn.”
“So do I.” Honor’s voice was husky. “It’s...a date...Friday night.”
“You know,” Phyllis said, rising to cross to Honor’s side, “I don’t just love you because you loved my daughter. I love you because I think you’re a wonderful, warm, loving woman. I have only ever wanted you to be happy.”
Honor bit her lip, her eyes brimming. It had been a very long time since she’d sought comfort in anyone’s arms, but it felt right to rest her head on Phyllis’s shoulder and shed the last of the tears for a past she could not change.
“I don’t know what Arly or I would ever do without you.”
“Well, I never intend to get very far away, so you don’t have to worry.” Phyllis leaned back and brushed the moisture from Honor’s cheeks. “There’s something special about Quinn—I could see it right away. And I approve of the way she looks at you.”
Honor blushed, hoping that Phyllis couldn’t see too clearly what had been transpiring between her and Quinn. “We’re not...I mean, we haven’t...”
Phyllis laughed and patted Honor’s cheek. “I’ll see if Kim and Dennis want to go to the movies with us, and afterward the kids can have a sleepover at my place. I’ll even bring Pooch over for the night. You’ll have the house here to yourself.”
“Thanks,” Honor said, still coloring. She was trying not to think too much about what might happen after the show Friday evening. The only thing she knew for certain was that she couldn’t spend too many more nights dreaming of Quinn in her bed. Rather than finding the increasingly erotic fantasies satisfying, even when physically they ought to have been, she awoke with a craving that verged on pain.
As unsettling as the idea of opening herself to Quinn—to anyone—after all this time might be, the thought of remaining alone was far worse.
Friday evening, fresh from a shower and still in her favorite shapeless cotton robe, Honor knocked on Arly’s partially open door and leaned her head into her daughter’s room. “Do you need any help packing your overnight bag?”
“I can’t find my pajamas.” A scattering of toys, favorite books, and clothes lay over Arly’s bed. Her Harry Potter duffel bag lay open on the floor.
“Which ones?”
Arly looked at Honor in amazement. “My dinosaur ones.”
“Ah.” Honor nodded seriously. “They’re downstairs on top of the laundry basket.”
“’Kay. I’ll go get them.”
“Are you excited about going to the movies tonight?”
“Yes! And Kim and Denny are coming, too, and then we’re going to have ice cream at Grandmom’s.”
“Sounds like a lot of fun.”
Arly nodded vigorously. “You and Quinn could come with us.”
“Maybe some night, we will. Tonight, though, we’re going to do something else. Just us.”
Arly sat on the edge of her bed and regarded her mother. “Is it like...a date?”
Honor’s brows rose, and she crossed the room to join her daughter. She cleared a space for herself on the bed and curled up on her side, her head propped on her elbow, her other hand resting lightly on Arly’s leg. “Do you know what a date is?”
“Not really.”
“A date is when two people who like each other spend time together. So yes, this is kind of like a date.”
“Do you like Quinn a lot?”
“Yes, I do.”
Arly bounced lightly on the bed. “So do I.”
“That’s good.”
“Do you like Quinn the way you liked Terry?”
The question was so innocent, and so casually put, that Honor failed to feel the usual ache at the mention of Terry’s name. When Arly had asked about the photo of Terry in Honor’s room, Honor had explained that the three of them had once been
a family, just like Robin and Linda and Denny and Kim. Arly’d seen pictures of herself as a baby with both Terry and Honor, but she had no specific memories of Terry.
“Everybody we care about is very special to us, right?” Honor asked with just a hint of unsteadiness in her voice.
“Uh-huh.”
“But we care about each person a little bit differently, too. Does that make sense?”
Arly considered the idea seriously, then nodded. “Like I love you and Grandmom the same, only different.”
“Exactly.” Honor smiled. “So I can care about both of them a lot.”
“Okay.” Arly jumped down from the bed. “I’m going to go get my pajamas.”
Alone, Honor lay on her back amidst her daughter’s favorite objects, staring at the ceiling and contemplating her date with Quinn in just a few hours. Mixed with the thrill of anticipation was a healthy dose of nerves and misgivings. She vacillated between the certainty that she wasn’t ready for any kind of emotional involvement and the equally clear knowledge of her compelling attraction to Quinn Maguire. When she couldn’t reason her way forward, she simply decided to follow her heart.
At 6:30, the phone rang. Honor’s heart sank. She’s canceling.
She let the phone ring, reluctant to answer it. A second later, she snatched it up, berating herself for her cowardice. With a calmness she didn’t feel, she said quietly, “Hello?”
“So what are you wearing?”
Honor’s breath left her on a rush of exasperation and relief. “God, Linda! You scared me.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
“So? Let’s hear it.”
Smiling despite her nerves, Honor leaned back against the corner of the sofa, keeping one eye on the front door. “We’re going to the Annenberg, Linda. It’s hardly a formal event.”
“It’s your first date. I want the details.”
“Black brushed-silk slacks and a royal blue blouse.”
“The one where the top button is just about at nipple level and shows a nice bit of your cleavage?”
Honor burst out laughing. “I never thought you noticed that sort of thing.”
“You might be my best friend, but I still notice.” Linda gave a hum of approval. “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me if you’re wearing a bra?”
“Noo, I don’t think so.”
Linda’s pout was nearly audible over the phone. “What a spoilsport.” Her voice suddenly serious, she asked softly, “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” Honor confessed. “I like Quinn, but I’m not totally certain this is a good idea. I have to work with her every day, and things could be awkward if this turns into a disaster.”
“Quinn seems solid. I can’t imagine her giving you a hard time, no matter what happens.” Truly sympathetic and hoping to defuse her friend’s nerves, Linda added, “I can tell that you like her, and I know that she likes you. Just try to have fun tonight.”
At that moment, the front doorbell rang, and Honor jumped, her heart racing as she peered at the shadow-shape visible through the curtains. “I have to go. She’s here.”
“Have fun, sweetie. And call me in the morning prepared to tell all.”
Another laugh eased some of the tension as Honor said goodbye and replaced the receiver. Then she hurried to the door and pulled it open. She hesitated before speaking just long enough to enjoy the sight of the woman at her door. Quinn wore a light gray linen blazer with matching trousers and a dark silk shirt that hugged her torso. Highly polished dress shoes and a thin black belt completed the urban-chic look. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Quinn said softly, extending an arrangement of freesia, baby’s breath, and a single white rose. She smiled as her gaze traveled from Honor’s face briefly over her body, and then back to Honor’s eyes. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Honor said, reaching for the flowers to cover her charmed embarrassment. Flowers. I can’t believe she brought me flowers. Does anyone do that anymore? Honor swallowed around a sudden surge of pleasure. “They’re wonderful. Come inside so I can take care of them.”
As she walked through the house, Honor was exquisitely sensitive to Quinn’s presence just behind her. The air surrounding them felt heavy, like the electrified atmosphere just before a summer storm. Her skin tingled and the fine hairs on her arms stood up as she shivered lightly.
Once in the kitchen, she said casually, “I’ll just put these in some water, and then we can go.”
Quinn waited, watching Honor’s quick, efficient movements. She enjoyed watching Honor do anything, but her anticipation of the evening had been building all week, and at that moment, all she really wanted to do was touch her. Afraid that she might, and afraid that it would be too much far too soon, Quinn slid her hands into the pockets of her trousers. “Arly get off to the movies okay?”
“Couldn’t wait.” Honor turned from the counter with the beginnings of a smile that faltered as she looked into Quinn’s eyes. The deep blue she was used to had edged to purple, and the focus, always intense, was so sharp now that her body quickened instantly. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and willed herself not to reach out, certain that if she touched Quinn now, she wouldn’t stop touching her until sunrise. Voice thick, she added, “She asked me tonight if we were going on a date.”
Blinking, Quinn pulled herself back from the fantasy of sliding her palms under the rich silk of Honor’s blouse and over the smooth expanse of her back. “Is that okay?”
“She thinks it’s neat.” Honor took a step closer, tilted her head, and brushed her lips over Quinn’s. Before she succumbed to the temptation to slip her fingers into Quinn’s hair and press even closer, she backed away, catching Quinn’s hand in hers. “So do I. Come on, let’s go.”
Because she had no choice, and wouldn’t have done otherwise even if she had, Quinn allowed Honor to lead her away. Away from everything she had known or even imagined, toward a place that she had scarcely dared dream of.
In the darkened theater, a series of overlapping spotlights highlighted the nearly naked men and women who reclined on the stage floor, enormous drums clasped between their thighs, tautly muscled arms beating a rhythm that pounded through the air, through the floor, through the bodies of the spellbound audience. Sweat glistened on smooth skin, nostrils flared with the rush of hot breath, and blood boiled close to the surface in a flush of heat. The beat was so primitive, so primal, that the collective consciousness of performers and audience alike pulsed as one—hearts and loins and desires joined in an ancient rite.
At one point, when it seemed that the intensity, the furor, could climb no higher, with a tremendous show of passion and will, the drummers arched their backs and pounded the huge mallets even faster until their limbs were a blur. Quinn, riding the waves of exuberant abandon, glanced at Honor, whose eyes, shining with excitement, were riveted on the stage. Her slightly parted lips were full and sensuous, and Quinn was certain she had never seen a more glorious woman.
At that instant, Honor turned her head, thrilling to the ardor in Quinn’s expression. When Quinn wordlessly turned her left hand palm up on the armrest between them, Honor laced her fingers through Quinn’s. At the jolt of electricity, her eyes widened in concern, and she leaned close, her mouth against Quinn’s ear. “Was that you?”
Swiftly, Quinn lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of Honor’s, then shook her head. Raising her voice against the thunder that reverberated through the very walls, she shouted, “No. That was us.”
Wild with relief and the glory of the moment, Honor pulled Quinn’s hand into her lap and held it there with both of hers as the drummers, along with her very soul, raged on.
Honor maneuvered through the late Friday evening traffic, her eyes on the road but her mind on the woman next to her. She hadn’t really thought about the nature of the performance when she’d invited Quinn. She’d seen the Japanese drummers before and loved the energy and passion of their art. Self-consc
iously, she wondered if Quinn had felt any of the arousal that she had experienced as the pulsating rhythm had inundated them. She couldn’t remember it having been quite so sexual an experience before and hoped that Quinn did not think it had been intentional on her part to orchestrate such a suggestive first date. It concerned her that Quinn had been quiet since they left the theater.
“Everything okay?” Honor finally ventured to ask.
Quinn reached across the distance and slid her fingers into Honor’s hair, lifting it away from her neck. Leaning over as far as her seat belt would allow, she ran her lips over the rim of Honor’s ear. “Everything is perfect.”
“Quinn,” Honor breathed thickly, her stomach doing a slow roll, “you can’t do that while I’m driving.”
“Must be why I can’t get car insurance,” Quinn mused, moving her lips to a spot just below Honor’s ear. “Judgment problems.”
Honor gripped the wheel with both hands and ignored the tantalizing fluttering in her depths. “Get yourself back into your own seat.”
Laughing softly, Quinn settled back, but she kept her hand on Honor’s thigh. “That was the first date to end all first dates.”
“I hope so,” Honor said without thinking. Then she blushed and stammered, “I mean...hell... I just...”
“I had a great time,” Quinn said genuinely. “They were unbelievable.”
“I know.” Breathing a bit easier as her blood pressure came down out of the stratosphere, Honor turned off Lincoln Drive, the torturous narrow road that led from Center City into their residential neighborhood, and onto her street. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it.”
“Honor,” Quinn said tenderly. “It’s all right if you take me home.”
Honor slowed and glanced at Quinn. “Is that what you want?”
Quinn shook her head. “No.”
Nodding, Honor accelerated for half a block and then coasted into her driveway. She turned off the engine and shifted on the seat until she faced Quinn. In the semidarkness, she found Quinn’s hands and clasped them tightly. “I thought about tonight for days. I can’t tell you that I understand everything that I feel, or even that I’m totally comfortable with it, but I want you to come inside with me.” Her voice was shaking, but she had to finish. In fairness to Quinn and herself. “Tonight. But tomorrow...I don’t know.”
