by CF Frizzell
“A really good idea.”
The galley below provided the warmth of close quarters and the whisper of rain, an inescapable intimacy Ellis hoped Maggie appreciated as much as she did.
“What’s your pleasure?” she asked, opening the liquor cabinet. “I just stocked up last weekend.”
Maggie stepped closer to peruse the shelves. “Whoa. Did you stock up for the year?” Bending over to read the labels, she gathered dangling strands of wet hair in one hand. “Look at all this. How’s a girl supposed to choose?” She held up bottles of vodka and amaretto. “I can make us Godmothers, if you like. I think you’re officially Retta’s dogmother now.”
Ellis chuckled. “I suppose I am, aren’t I?”
Maggie set the bottles on the table. “Glasses, please—and that first aid kit.”
“No.” Ellis spun to another cabinet and handed Maggie two glasses. “First, I’m checking on my goddog.” She bolted up the steps, hearing Maggie laugh behind her.
First aid. Dry clothes. Dog aboard. Woman below deck. Maybe I’ve redeemed myself.
She stopped in the saloon and took a breath. “Jesus. I do need a drink.”
She opened the door cautiously, not knowing where Retta would be, but was relieved to see her right herself and wag her tail.
“Hey there, pretty girl.” She crouched before her and cupped her head. “Still don’t feel like standing? A flight of stairs might be tough, huh?” She stood and patted her thigh. Pain shot through her leg and she remembered her other wound. “Come.”
Retta rose with effort and followed. Ellis took three steps down, turned, and beckoned, but Retta looked from the steps to her and sat, decidedly opposed.
“That’s fine, too. I get it.” Ellis went back up and pressed her cheek to Retta’s head. “Trust me. Just like earlier, okay?” She wrapped her arms around her and Retta squirmed fearfully. “Steady as she goes, pretty girl. Steady.” She lifted and worked her way down and found Maggie waiting at the bottom.
She had no wiggle room of her own, couldn’t make way when Maggie leaned in very close to kiss the top of Retta’s head. Loose hair swung across Ellis’s face, Maggie’s ear brushed the tip of her nose, and Ellis closed her eyes at the sensations.
The plush, velvety warmth of Maggie’s lips pressed against her mouth, just long enough for Ellis to instantly register shock, pleasure, and arousal, and to initiate a response, before the connection broke.
In the shadow of the tight stairway, all three of them stood close, although Retta tossed her head as a reminder of where she was, and Maggie’s eyes went to Ellis’s lips.
“Retta got one and I-I thought you should, too.”
Her body still humming, Ellis gently set Retta down, and they watched her ruffle her fur with a thorough shake and curl up beneath the table.
Ellis couldn’t find words. Maybe there aren’t any. Maybe I don’t need any. Talk about an emotional night.
“Um…” Obviously uneasy, Maggie went for their drinks on the table and held them aloft. “Godmother for the new dogmother.”
She’s moved on. Just an emotional night, that’s all.
*****
Maggie hoped Ellis would take the glass before it started to shake. Her nerves thrummed so hard, she thought her heart would flutter. Could she have looked any more surprised?
Finally, Ellis accepted her drink and peered into the glass with trepidation.
“Smells powerful.”
Maggie shrugged sheepishly. “It is, but tastes a whole lot better than scotch.” She relaxed a bit when Ellis brought their glasses together.
“Then here’s to dogmothers everywhere.” A suggestive curl formed at the side of her mouth. “Thank you, Maggie. I’m honored.”
They sipped, and when Ellis blinked and blew out a breath, Maggie laughed. Ellis pursed her lips thoughtfully and took another sip.
“Damn, that’s good.” She offered a chair, but Maggie shook her head as she swallowed.
“Not sitting in these wet clothes. I don’t mind standing if you don’t. Besides, we probably should call it a night after this.” She really didn’t care about wet clothes or standing or the late hour. What she cared about was the persistent temptation to kiss her. “First aid now.”
“Ah.” Ellis produced a brown plastic tackle box, its voluminous interior and three trays filled with assorted bandages, gauze, tape rolls, ointments, and surgical implements. Maggie shook her head at how well prepared Ellis seemed to be for everything.
Ellis washed her forearm in the sink and scrubbed away dried blood all the way down to her fingernails. “It’s not as bad as it looks, you know.” She dried the wound with paper towels as Maggie dug a bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the box.
“I don’t care what they say, this is going to hurt.” Maggie handed her the bottle and studied the concerted look on Ellis’s face. The picture of determination. Guts never looked so good on a woman.
Ellis took a hearty mouthful of her drink, sent her a glance, and poured the peroxide. Maggie winced for her as the bloody four-inch slice filled with white foam. Ellis threw back another swallow before disappearing into the next room. In an instant, she was back with towels.
“I should have offered you one of these right away. Standing around soaking wet isn’t good.”
Maggie wiped her face and the back of her neck before running the towel across her hair. It had become a lost cause long ago, but the soft warmth was a comfort. Now these wet clothes are an issue. I really should go.
Ellis dried her own hair, a quick one-handed job that fluffed her short style into a jumbled mess. Maggie delighted in the carefree attitude that left it untamed as Ellis poured more peroxide into her wound.
“Let me,” Maggie said, rushing to wipe spilled liquid off the table. “You’re obviously not left-handed. Would you please sit?” Ellis obeyed. “You can’t get this stuff all over everything.” Maggie laid out paper towels and drew Ellis’s forearm onto them. The flesh chilled her fingers, but the rock-hard musculature felt far more remarkable. She forced her concentration to the first aid box and pawed through its contents until she found ointment and gauze. “And whatever’s bleeding on your leg has to be checked, too.”
“Later.”
Maggie couldn’t help but grin. “You could drop the pants so…”
“Thanks, Doc. It can wait.”
Maggie dabbed at the wound until it was dry and opened a tube of ointment.
Ellis watched closely. “You really don’t have to go to all this trouble. I can wrap it after I shower.”
“I’m doing this now.” She set gauze over the wound and proceeded to wrap it.
“You shouldn’t be hanging out in wet clothes either. We should get you two home.” Bandaging completed, Ellis stood and finished her drink.
Maggie looked under the table, found Retta sound asleep and breathing easily. Ellis looked, too, and Maggie whispered as they turned to each other.
“She’s made herself at home.”
Ellis nodded. “She’s finally calmed down. Hell of a trauma for her.”
“For all of us,” Maggie said as they straightened. “Why don’t you take that shower.” Ellis squared her shoulders, as if ready to argue. “It’s the least I can do, Ellis. And I don’t care about my wet clothes, but you went swimming in yours.”
Say yes. Let me do this for you. Besides, it feels good being here. Does it make you nervous?
Ellis lowered her eyes to the bloodstain around the rip in her pants and disappeared again. She emerged seconds later, carrying a set of light blue surgeon’s scrubs with a pair of white cotton socks on top. “Ladies first.” She pointed to the door with the rose wreath. “The head and shower are right there.” She handed her the folded clothes. “You’re not sitting around in a soggy sweatshirt and jeans. There are plenty of supplies inside and lots of hot water, so take your time.”
Taken aback, Maggie slowly accepted the scrubs. “You know, I’m fine waiting. I don’t mean to intrude, El
lis. God knows, we’ve—”
Ellis pointed to the head again like a parent. “Snap to it.”
Maggie saluted and looked back before stepping into the bathroom. “There’s no limit to your generosity, is there?”
Ellis turned with a frying pan in hand. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup okay with you?” She twirled the pan like a pro. “I’m guessing we’re both hungry.” She opened the refrigerator.
“Well…I-I suppose I am. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Comfort food. I’ll start and you can finish while I shower.” She turned to Maggie and gestured with a butter dish. “Go.”
And in a blur of time, Maggie was back at the table, surrendering to pleasures both inside her stomach and out. Blowing on a spoonful of soup, she gave up trying to analyze the reserved, captivating woman seated opposite her because Ellis Chilton simply was unlike any she’d known. And this, tucked into a boat on a rainy night eating soup and sandwiches with someone whose singular glance made her heart race, just couldn’t be real.
“Amaretto, cheddar, and tomato work well together,” she said, raising her glass to Ellis.
“I’m surprised, too. Think I’ll try it more often.”
“I can’t thank you enough. This is just what we needed.” She pondered how often Ellis prepared even this simple meal for herself. The compact galley certainly was fully stocked, had all the necessities, and she’d easily located everything she needed while Ellis showered and bandaged her thigh, but she couldn’t deny the surreal feel of being in Ellis’s world. “Have you lived on the Rose long?”
Ellis took her time chewing. If the question surprised her, it didn’t show.
“More than ten years, but I didn’t start renovations until about four years ago. Had to save serious money.”
Having lost the house to foreclosure probably meant Ellis literally started this work from scratch. Maggie wondered if Ellis declared bankruptcy, and how much pain it must have wrought to fail at the family business, to lose her home, to renovate the Rose and erase memories. And to have endured it all without her mother or father. God. How does a woman recover from so many losses?
Maggie toyed with her spoon, trying to come up with the right words.
“The Rose certainly is gorgeous today, Ellis. I love it, so perfectly decorated and cleverly economical, efficient. There’s a strength about it that makes you feel sheltered and safe, at peace.” Just like its owner.
“That’s kind of you. I appreciate that. I’m used to roughing it, so I just renovated to be comfortable, bit by bit. It’s hard to know what people think when you don’t have many visitors, but it’s home.”
“I’m very happy to be one of those rare guests,” Maggie said and drew Ellis’s direct attention. She hoped her sincerity, her pleasure were easily read. “Thank you for sharing such a big part of who you are.”
“You make it easy, Maggie.” She stacked their empty dishes, retreated to the sink, and appeared as finished with the topic as she was her meal.
Heavy silence settled between them. They listened to Retta’s steady breathing and the blowing rain needle the rectangular windows on the boat’s unprotected harbor side. Maggie wished Ellis would open up about the past, elaborate about the Rose’s remarkable transformation, say anything in her low, sultry voice to keep this extraordinarily improbable night from ending.
“Maggie?”
Bent to check on Retta, Maggie looked up over the table and saw Ellis quickly turn to the stove.
“Ah, would you like coffee?”
Maggie doubted that had been her original question. Please say what’s on your mind.
“No, thank you. You’ve already done so much tonight.” She brought her glass to the sink. “It’s after two o’clock and we really should go. But first,” she reached for the faucet, “I intend to do these dishes for you.”
Ellis took her hand. “No,” she murmured, so close, her breath warmed Maggie’s ear. “You have no idea what you’ve already done for me.”
“I’ve dug up your past and my dog has dragged you into the ocean. That’s—”
Ellis cupped her face and Maggie’s mind whirled at the tender touch. Her eyes fluttered closed and reality became the silkiness of Ellis’s lips, the firm, possessive draw on her mouth that sent a bolt of fire to her core. Maggie slid an arm around Ellis’s waist and held on, unsteady now, but yearning for more, and Ellis drew her closer with equal urgency.
The sure, expansive hand on her lower back weakened her hips, her knees, and Maggie nearly swooned when Ellis angled her head and deepened the kiss. Dear God, I could do this all night.
Ellis left a trail of kisses across her cheek, along her neck, and whispered into the crook of her shoulder. “I’m so sorry for not calling or…or stopping by.”
“Sh.” Maggie lifted Ellis’s head in both hands. “It’s all right.” She kissed Ellis’s lower lip.
“No, it’s not.” Ellis drew back slightly and scanned Maggie’s face. “I do want to see you—in or out of that house. Or here. It…it feels right, special with you.”
Maggie tugged her into a prolonged kiss, wrapped her arms around her shoulders when Ellis enclosed her fully. Kisses on her throat made Maggie sigh, and she ran a hand through Ellis’s hair, relished its softness. “God, yes, this feels right. And I want to see you, too. Where doesn’t matter.”
Ellis squeezed her tighter, groaned against her collarbone, and slid her palms beneath the back of Maggie’s scrub shirt. But a high-pitched whimper sounded from below, and they edged apart and looked down. Retta sat, watching curiously, tail wagging when they made eye contact.
Ellis scratched between Retta’s ears.
“She doesn’t want to be left out,” she said, sliding her arm back around Maggie.
“She’s feeling more like her old self, I’d say.”
“So, she knows all about jealousy?”
“I beg your pardon. She does not.” Maggie squirmed closer and pretended to bite the tip of Ellis’s nose. “But she’s an expert on hugs and kisses.”
“Oh, really? Let’s see.” Ellis took a broad waltz step to the middle of the floor, dipped Maggie backward with a flourish, and held her there.
“Ellis!”
Retta swooped in and began licking Maggie’s face and ear.
Ellis grinned down at them. “Hey, you were right. She is an expert.”
“Ellis Chilton, let me up!”
“Wow, look at the size of that tongue!”
“Ellis! Retta, stop. Retta, please!” She flailed an arm to urge Retta away. “Jesus. Now I need a bath.”
Ellis laughed as she lifted Maggie to her feet. “Yeah, you do. I’m not kissing all that dog slobber.”
“Oh, you don’t think so?” Maggie grabbed Ellis by the ears, kissed her firmly, and rubbed her wet face across Ellis’s lips. “There, wise guy.”
“Well, since you put it that way…” Ellis leaned in to kiss her, and Maggie pushed at her chest.
“Ew. I’m not kissing dog slobber on you from me.”
Ellis wet a handful of paper towels for their faces. “I’d like to pick up where we left off.”
“Uh-oh. Retta’s nosing around now, Ellis. I’m sorry to tell you what that means.”
“I can guess.” She pretended to sulk. “Parenting can be damn inconvenient. I’ll take her.”
“No, I’ll—”
“She’s my goddog, remember?” She reached for a rain slicker.
“That’s sweet of you, but it’s almost three o’clock, time we—”
Ellis stepped up very close, ran a finger along Maggie’s cheek, and then across and between her lips. She tipped her forehead against Maggie’s and whispered.
“It’s still raining. It’s twelve minutes to three in the morning. Don’t go.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I appreciate your attention to duty, Retta, but I doubt you’ve given much thought to my situation. Have you even been listening?” Wind blew her hood off and Ellis yan
ked it back on.
Retta stopped to reinvestigate the patch of grass she’d “watered” when they began their walk. The rain had dissolved into a heavy mist, but the wind hadn’t abated and it whipped the mist inside Ellis’s hood as she waited. She turned her shoulder to it, while Retta sniffed and snorted, oblivious to the conditions.
“Come on. You’ve done your business and now you’re just being nosy. Your mom’s waiting and we need to get back. I need to get back.” With a little tug of encouragement, Retta finally moved on, and they started down the dock.
“So, was that invitation to stay the night too bold? Has Mom had sleepovers since you guys moved here?” Retta paused to sniff a coil of hose at an empty slip. “You wouldn’t tell me, would you? You’re loyal.” Ellis turned away from another vicious spray, and Retta lifted her head, squinted through the mist at the Tenn-acious, and barked.
“Shh, Retta!” Ellis ran a reassuring hand along her wet back. “People are sleeping. That’s just Hank’s line blowing against a mast. Now, come. And pay attention.” She urged her on. “So, your mom’s not seeing anyone, is she? Do I risk thinking beyond tonight?”
The Rose’s soft light beckoned from the far end of the pier. Are you comfortable there, Maggie? I hope so. Coming home hasn’t felt like this in a long time.
“I’ve never met anyone like her, Retta. Sure, she’s really bright and thoughtful, and that just makes her even sexier, but, Jesus, she has me thinking an awful lot. And it feels good, like it’s okay to be myself again.”
Knowing the neighborhood now, Retta pulled Ellis to the Rose and set her front paws on the first step. She looked over her shoulder, waiting for the assist.
“God, you’re smart.” Ellis unhooked the leash and Retta squirmed in anticipation. A strong gust rocked them, but Retta’s tail continued to swish like a windshield wiper. Ellis bent and scooped her up. “Now, no telling Mom what I said.” She scaled the side and set Retta down. “Shake out here, please.” Retta shimmied hard, fur fluffing from nose to tail.
Ellis laughed lightly and hung up her slicker in the saloon as Retta romped past her, first to reach the stairs. But seeing only darkness at the bottom, she stopped and sat.
