A Shot at Love

by T. B. Markinson

  “I don’t know how to describe it. There just is. And I’m pretty sure I haven’t even scratched the surface of how wonderful you are.” Josie squeezed Harriet’s fingers tighter.

  “What if you scratch the surface and discover what Alice found out?”

  “No offence, and I know I haven’t met her, so this assessment is completely biased, but I think your ex-wife is a bitch. Or should I say the c-word since I’m in Britain?”

  “It’s a divisive word.”

  “I’m in a divisive mood.” Josie ground a fist into her left hand.

  They entered Harriet’s cottage. “We can’t have that. Not after your evening. Tell you what, why don’t you go out into the garden? I’ll pour us some wine, and we can sit back and bash our exes to our hearts’ content.”

  Josie laughed. “That sounds delightful. The wine in the garden bit. Not sure I need to bash my exes, though. I’d rather get to know you better.”

  “I have it on good authority—”

  Josie silenced Harry with a kiss. Quick and sweet. “Wine, please. I’m going to freshen up. And this time, when I come back into the kitchen, I promise to be as quiet as a mouse so you don’t drop the wine. The chicken incident was a travesty. Ruining an entire bottle of wine would be the end of the world.”

  “Truly.” Harriet wanted to sweep some hair off Josie’s face, but refrained. Her need to touch Josie grew with each breath.

  When Josie left Harriet in the kitchen, Harriet rubbed the top of her head, trying to get her nerves under control. It’d been a long time since she’d been this interested in, not to mention attracted to, someone. Actually, her wanting may not have ever reached this level. It was as if Harriet couldn’t survive being away from Josie.

  “Geez, which one of us is more dramatic this evening?” Harriet glanced over her shoulder to ensure she was indeed alone.

  She uncorked the wine and started to pour. While pouring the second glass, Josie reentered the kitchen.

  “Nice job with being quiet. It must be hard to control your Americanness.”

  “Ha! Even my own mum bad-mouths Americans, and she married one and has a daughter who’s half American. It’s a black mark against me as soon as I step into a different country.”

  “Well, as you know, most here think of me as the London snob.”

  “Are you?” Josie’s smile was teasing.

  “Most definitely. You ready for the garden?” Harriet swept both glasses into her hands.

  “More than ready.”

  They made their way to the small garden, where there were two wicker seats and a tiny table on a flagstone patio.

  “This is perfect. If I had a place like this, I’d spend all my time out here no matter the season.”

  “I’d love that. Too bad the British weather is so British-y.”

  “Not tonight, though. Just look at the clear sky.” Josie peered up. “And I love how it gets so purplish at the end of the day. It’s like nature is saving up the best color for the last gasp of daylight.”

  Harriet handed Josie a glass and took a seat. “Does that mean purple is your favorite color?”

  “It is. What’s yours?”

  “Yellow.”

  “Really?” Josie squinted at the sky.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I’ve never known someone who’s favorite color is yellow. It’s usually blue, red, or purple.”

  Harriet pulled out her phone. “Let’s see.” She entered the question into the search bar and then started laughing. “According to the first result that popped up, the most popular color is blue. Followed by red, green, and purple. Then black, orange, yellow, and gold. Aren’t the last two the same? And”—Harriet counted—“black comes in fifth. It’s the absence of color, so I object to it being higher than yellow.”

  Josie laughed.

  “You see, more proof you shouldn’t scratch below the surface. You’ll keep finding out things like this. My favorite color is one of the last. Surely that says something about me.”

  “That you aren’t afraid to be yourself. If you ask me, that’s a good thing. I admire people who are themselves, no matter what. Not ones trying to please others. Maybe that’s what actually upset Alice and why she said what she said. An attempt to tear you down. So many are terrified of people who know who they are.”

  Harriet mulled that over. “Okay. Going on that, wouldn’t that mean I’d be the worst person to get involved with since I don’t try to please others?”

  “Maybe I wasn’t lumping myself into the others category.”

  “Is that right?” Harriet held her wineglass in both hands. Staring into the glass, she asked, “What category do you lump yourself into?”

  “Not sure there’s a definition yet, but I have a good feeling about it.”

  Harriet met Josie’s eyes. “You may be changing my mind about my color preference.”

  “How am I doing that?”

  “You have the most stunning emerald eyes.”

  Josie smiled, not saying anything for several seconds. “I know I said I didn’t want to bash exes, but I really do have to question Alice’s mental state. How did she not realize how wonderful you are?”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I only said you have beautiful eyes.”

  “I know, but it’s also how you said it and how it made me feel.”

  “How’d I say it?”

  “Like you meant it.” Josie leaned over in her chair to rest her hand briefly on Harriet’s cheek.

  “I do.”

  “I know. I can see it in your stunning blue eyes.”

  Harriet wanted Josie’s hand back on her skin, her cheek feeling the absence of Josie’s heat. “How did it make you feel?”

  “So very good. I’m sure there’s a better way to put that, but words are failing me right now.”

  “Says the speechwriter.”

  “You love that line.” Josie sipped her wine, her eyes sparkling more by the minute. “I like the way I feel when I’m around you.”

  “That’s good to hear. I like being around you.”

  “To a brilliant beginning.” Josie raised her glass.

  Harriet hoisted hers before taking a teensy sip. “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Will you judge me if I say Notting Hill?”

  “Is that the truth?”

  “It is.” Josie dipped her head with the admission.

  “No, I won’t judge you.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Will you judge me if I say Citizen Kane?”

  Josie’s smile widened. “I should have guessed that. It’s so you.”

  “Is that a good or bad thing?”

  “Good. I wasn’t lying earlier when I said I like you because you are you.”

  “You’ll have to give me some time to get used to that.”

  Josie relaxed into her seat, resting her head against the chair. “It’s getting dark.”

  Harriet looked up into the darkness. “It is. Are you cold?”

  “Nope. I can sit here for a bit more.”

  “I have no objection to that.”

  Their eyes met, and each took a lustful sip of their wine.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Of course, these chairs don’t allow for snuggling.” Josie took another sip of wine, wondering how obvious she would have to be to crash completely through Harry’s reserve. While this evening was different from the previous time Josie was at Harry’s, Josie wasn’t going to kid herself. Harry was still reserved and polite to an almost annoying degree.

  “They do limit us on that front.” Harry’s eyes were on her wineglass, not Josie.

  “Is this a limitation we’re wanting to live with at the moment?”

  “Depends.” Harry’s chin lifted to meet Josie’s gaze.

  Josie laughed. “Does that mean you’d rather not be the one to say it?”

  “Say what?” Harry’s smile was an indication she was being playful, which Josie had to admit was a turn-on. />
  “I’ll have another glass of wine.” Josie decided to give Harry a taste of her own medicine.

  Harry rose. “By all means. I’m not one to deny a beautiful woman.”

  “Ha! Nicely played.”

  Harry clutched the front of her shirt. “What game are you accusing me of playing?”

  “None whatsoever.” Josie handed off her empty wineglass.

  Harry finished her wine. “I’ll fill both of these and be right back.”

  “No rush, Harry. The stars will keep me company.”

  Harry looked toward the heavens. “I’ve always been a fan of Ursa Minor, also known as Little Bear.”

  “I never studied astronomy,” Josie confessed.

  “Let me fill these, and I’ll give you your first lesson.”

  Josie liked the sound of first lesson, implying there’d be more opportunities to stargaze with the stunning blonde. “Looking forward to it.”

  While Harry was inside, Josie rested her head on the chair, glancing into the blackness, trying to make rhyme or reason of the dots of light slowly coming to life.

  “Here you go.” Harry returned Josie’s glass.

  “I’m ready for my lesson.”

  “I’ll do my best. There are some wonderful hills in the area that offer superb views, given the low light pollution in the Cotswolds. Even here, on a clear night like this evening, you can make out some of the constellations.”

  “Do you stargaze often?”

  “Not as often as I should,” Harry said with regret.

  Curious by Harry’s slumped shoulders, Josie pressed, “What do you mean?”

  “Like most, I take them for granted.”

  What other laments did Harry have? “Unless on the road, I’ve always lived in cities. The night lights I’m used to seeing consist of skyscrapers. Which are beautiful in a different way.”

  “True.” Harry set her glass down on the table. “Okay, what do you know about Ursa Minor?”

  “Nothing, although I’m guessing there’s an Ursa Major.”

  “Good guess. Ursa Minor, as I said earlier is also known as Little Bear. Has been for eons. Ptolemy, in the second century, listed forty-eight constellations, including Ursa Minor.”

  “How many do we know about today?” Josie looked at the heavens again.

  “Eighty-eight.”

  She met Harry’s gaze. “Not bad for Ptolemy. He got more than half.”

  Harry glanced up, pointing. “You see that star? It’s the brightest one in the constellation. You probably know it. Polaris, or the North Star. Mariners have been using it for navigation over the centuries.”

  Josie got to her feet, standing close to Harry. “Which one?”

  Harry repositioned behind Josie. Taking Josie’s right hand into hers, Harry guided them to the star in the north. “Follow our arms with your eyes to find it.”

  Josie’s heartbeat sped, while her breathing slowed. Harry pressed against Josie’s backside. After a glance over her shoulder at the concentration on Harry’s face, Josie allowed her eyes to follow their conjoined arms and fingers to the bright yellow star. “I see it.”

  “If you ever lose your way, you can locate the star and know where north is.” Harry’s breath tickled the back of Josie’s neck, causing her to close her eyes momentarily to focus on the sensation of her skin.

  “Have you ever needed it?” Josie asked, opening her eyes.

  “Can’t say that I have, but I know it’s there if I do.”

  They both still had their arms in the air as if afraid to break apart.

  Harry moved them a bit. “The North Star is the tip of the bear’s tail. The constellation is sometimes called the Little Dipper, since the stars make up a smaller version of the Big Dipper.” Harry traced the pattern of the stars.

  “Is the Big Dipper part of Ursa Major?”

  “It is.” Harry’s voice indicated she was impressed by Josie’s deduction.

  “It’s ringing a faint bell.”

  Their arms lowered, but Harry still stood behind Josie.

  “Here’s another part of the story. Ursa Minor is named after Ida. She was one of Zeus’s nurses when he was a baby on Crete.”

  Josie wheeled about, her arms now on each of Harry’s shoulders. “Why is she a bear?”

  With her arms around Josie’s waist, Harry pulled them closer together. “Unfortunately, that bit is unclear.”

  “I guess only so much of the past can be known.”

  “That’s very true.”

  “I’m kinda glad we stayed out here, even if you were playing a mind game.”

  “I would never.” Harry’s aw shucks smile and delivery made it clear she knew she was busted. “Okay, fine, but why are you glad?”

  “Because I want Little Bear to witness this.”

  “What?”

  Josie leaned in to kiss Harry, who met her halfway.

  “Why did you want Ida to see that?”

  “In case I lose my way, she’ll lead me back to you.”

  Their lips met again, neither willing to break apart.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Harriet stared at the patio light flickering in Josie’s green eyes, making them more emerald-like and intoxicating. “You have the most amazing eyes. I can stare into them for hours.”

  “Aw. Is that a line you use on all the redheads?”

  “I’ve never dated a redhead.”

  “Are you prejudiced against them?” Josie’s smile was teasing.

  “You know what they say.”

  “No. What?”

  “I have no idea, but I did buy a book about the history of redheads.”

  Josie tilted her head back, laughing. “That seems so like something you’d do.” She tapped her chin with a finger. “Wait, when did you purchase this book?”

  “Not that long ago.”

  Josie motioned she needed more details. “Out with it.”

  “The book hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “That recently, huh? May I ask what prompted the sudden interest in redheads?”

  “A clue I was working on for the crossword, led to some googling, which led to the acquisition.”

  “What was the clue?”

  “I wanted someone who was a redhead that many might not know about, and I discovered Oliver Cromwell, in all likelihood, was a ginger. Does that word offend you?”

  Josie shook her head. “Nope. I remember getting onto a subway in New York last year, and this man gave me a pound while he said, Keep it real, sister ginger.”

  “Why’d he give you a quid?”

  Josie’s confused expression slowly dissipated. “Oh, not a pound as in British money. A fist bump.” Josie made a fist for Harriet to bump. “Don’t leave a girl hanging.”

  “Oh, right.” Harriet lightly tapped her fist against Josie’s.

  “You’re a gentle pounder.”

  Harriet felt heat prickle her cheeks.

  Josie cupped the side of Harriet’s face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. That one wasn’t intentional.”

  “Have the others been?”

  “In all likelihood, yes.”

  “Just to let you know, any type of innuendo makes me turn three shades of red.” Harriet felt the heat inside intensify, but it wasn’t solely due to Josie’s comment.

  “Does an outright dirty joke take you to the fourth dimension?”

  “Time will tell.”

  Josie burst into laughter. “Nicely played.”

  “I think that’s the only thing I remember from physics, that the fourth dimension is time.”

  Josie scrunched her nose. “I only remember: more time, less force.”

  “Yes, it’s why dashboards are padded. To reduce the impact in car accidents.”

  Josie’s hand snaked to the back of Harriet’s head, pulling her closer.

  Before their lips met, Harriet asked, “I never knew physics could be hot.”

  “The hottest.” Josie kissed Harriet again.
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br />   Harriet stroked Josie’s cheek with a fingertip and hopscotched from one tiny freckle to the next, leading down Josie’s face, past her neck, to the top of her shirt. Harriet’s fingers slowly undid the second button from the top, allowing Harriet to place a soft kiss on the hollow of her throat.

  Josie’s chest hitched slightly. “I need to order more books on the fourth dimension if this is how it’ll keep playing out.”

  Harriet traced Josie’s collarbone with a thumb. “Any type of random facts really gets me going. I’m determined to win pub quiz night at least once before I die.”

  “I’ll see if I can plant some redhead questions for you.”

  “Will Helen let you suggest questions? She seems to like being in control.”

  “A woman after my own heart.” Josie’s tongue was back inside Harriet’s mouth. Warm and inviting. Josie attempted to lift Harriet’s shirt but was stopped.

  “I think we should move inside.”

  Josie nodded and let Harriet lead her by the hand upstairs to the bedroom. Standing at the foot of the bed, Josie once again tried to undress Harriet but was rebuffed.

  “All good things come to those who wait.” Harriet’s breathing increased as she undid another one of Josie’s buttons.

  “Is it weird how turned on I am about you undressing me?”

  Harriet eyed the way Josie’s breasts heaved up and down as the level of excitement jacked up. “It’s working for both of us.”

  Another button was popped open, revealing a hint of pink lace. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting pink.”

  “It’s my second favorite color.”

  “Is that a thing? Second color choice?” Harriet kissed the swell of Josie’s right breast.

  “It is for me,” Josie panted.

  “You can have all the colors, as long as you leave me green.”

  “I thought yellow was your fave.”

  “Like I said, your eyes are swaying me.”

  “Not my ginger hair?”

  “Excellent point. I’m claiming red and green.”

  “Christmas colors. Bold choice.”

  “It’s the best time of year.” Harriet freed another button to discover tiny black polka dots on the cups of the silky bra. “Now, this is you.”

  “What?”

  “The dots. Very playful.” Harriet placed a finger on Josie’s lips.