by Jove Belle
“How’s your drink?” Emma lifted the glass, and KC’s hand, to her mouth and took a long sip. She held KC’s gaze as she swallowed, then licked her lips. “Mmm, good.”
Maria joined them and Emma released KC’s hand.
“It was great seeing you, Emma.” Maria kissed Emma’s cheek. “Keep in touch, okay?”
Emma nodded in agreement and then Maria was gone. KC breathed easier.
“We should dance.” Emma grinned at KC. This was their ritual at Rusty’s. Emma insisted until KC eventually gave in and followed Emma onto the floor, at which point KC immediately felt like an uncoordinated oaf with no rhythm, and Emma flowed around her like music was hard-wired into her soul.
“I just got this.” KC tipped the glass and took another sip. It would only stall Emma for so long.
“Let me help you with it.” Emma downed half the glass, licked her lips, and then smiled Cheshire big and cheesy. “Yum.”
KC held firm to her glass the next time Emma reached for it. She took a slow drink herself, then said, “So, you and Maria?”
Emma sighed. “That was a long time ago.”
“Looked pretty current to me.” KC pictured Maria’s hands cupped around Emma’s ass and saw a flare of red. Emma was too good to be groped in public.
“What you saw was crossed signals.” Emma straightened KC’s collar, then smoothed her palms over the fabric of KC’s lapels. “She was trying to help.”
“I swear to God, Emma…” KC took a calming breath. “If she…did she…did you want her to touch you?” KC was five seconds from finding Maria and punching her in the throat. It wasn’t cool to touch a woman, especially Emma, without permission.
Emma kissed KC high on her cheek, then left her lips close to KC’s ear. “You’re so sweet. My knight in shining denim.”
Emma’s warm breath caressed KC’s neck, bringing her to full attention. She felt vividly alive and yet like she might be dreaming all at once. Her heart pounded hard in her chest and she was sure Emma could feel it beneath her touch. Emma’s breath slowed, then hitched as she leaned in closer to KC. She whispered KC’s name and it burned across KC’s skin like a branding iron.
They stayed like that, immobile yet with their whole lives racing around them, for several moments. They were in a still pocket, protected from the chaos of bar activity. KC pulled Emma to her, tightening their embrace. She paused, reveling in the moment, the beauty of Emma’s touch, and the clarity of thought she found only with her.
A rambunctious cowgirl bumped into KC, and KC’s drink sloshed over the rim and trickled onto her hand. The cowgirl apologized with a drunken laugh and KC released Emma. She offered the rest of her drink to Emma, who took it and quickly drank the remainder. She regarded KC, her gaze soft with the effects of alcohol. Whiskey dripped from KC’s fingertips, and she brought her hand to her mouth and licked off the residue. Emma’s gaze followed the movement of KC’s tongue.
The energy between them was far too tight, and KC was afraid of what they’d do if it snapped. If it were any other woman, she’d know exactly what was happening. Their actions constituted foreplay, and that thought made KC’s head spin even faster. This wasn’t just any woman. It was Emma.
KC took her by the hand. “How ’bout that dance?”
Emma dropped the empty drink glass on the nearest table and followed. They made their way to the middle of the floor, where Emma pulled KC tight to her in complete contradiction to the fast song the DJ was playing.
KC settled into Emma’s embrace and let her set the pace. If Emma wanted a slow dance, that was fine by her. Emma guided her, inviting her into her rhythm, and she surrendered to it.
“So, you and the bartender?” Emma asked the mirror to KC’s earlier question, and KC almost laughed. She’d forgotten all about Deena. The woman didn’t register even a blip on her landscape of the night.
“She offered. I turned her down.” KC said it like it was no big deal. She hoped Emma would drop it.
“Why?”
“She’s not my type,” KC lied. Deena was everybody’s type.
“Oh?” Emma played with the back of KC’s collar, her fingers teasing through KC’s hair at the same time. “What is?”
KC thought of Lonnie and her patented Texas beauty; then she thought of the way Emma felt in her arms at that moment. Her head spun faster and she realized she had no hope of catching up with her thoughts any time tonight. She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not answering that.” She couldn’t. Her “type” seemed to be shifting by the second.
Emma teased her. “I’ll get it out of you.” She pressed a kiss to the side of KC’s head. Most of it got lost in KC’s hair, but it still tingled against her scalp.
“You probably will.” She spoke softly and nuzzled her head into the nook where Emma’s neck met her shoulder. Emma wore heels to KC’s polished boots. That gave her an inch or two over KC.
KC inhaled Emma’s hair and let the sweet smell of apple blossoms infuse her, seeping in at a cellular level. It left her heady and confused. Emma was clearly in reach, ripe for seduction. The lines between best friend and lover blurred, and KC couldn’t focus on which side she was meant to land on.
Emma moved her hands until they rested low on KC’s back. She splayed her fingers wide and played with the top edge of KC’s belt. A shiver worked its way up her spine, and KC pulled back to put a small amount of space between them. She needed room to remember Lonnie, to remember her fractured commitment. If her relationship with Emma was going to shift, KC wouldn’t let it happen like this. They both needed to be clear-headed and sober. And unquestionably single.
“You okay?” Emma asked sweetly, and brought one hand around to touch KC’s face. She held her fingers there for a moment, rubbing her thumb gently over the apple of KC’s cheek.
KC took a steadying breath. “Yeah, I think so.”
Emma’s mouth curved into a smile and she played with the loose tendrils of KC’s hair. “Remember when we were kids and you cut your hair short to match your dad’s?”
KC laughed. Emma read her so well. The memory gave KC the emotional reprieve she needed.
“My mama was so mad.” Right after her tenth birthday, KC took the scissors to her long hair, tired of the morning ritual that involved her mama yanking her head around just to get her hair settled into two braids. Her mama had been fit to be tied when she found KC in front of the bathroom mirror with a pair of scissors in her hand and all her hair in the sink. They had a family portrait scheduled a few weeks later. That year’s Christmas card featured KC with a stylish pixie cut provided by her mama’s hairdresser. She’d barely been able to salvage the mess KC’d made. KC loved that haircut, but her mama had refused to let her do it again. As she got older, she just got used to having long hair.
“That haircut gave me my first girl crush.” Emma pulled KC closer, closing the gap between them. Her fingers flowed in a slow, torturous path through KC’s hair, trailing through the ends, then starting over again. The rhythmic pull filled her scalp with electric energy.
“Yeah?” KC hated Emma’s new ability to render her dumbfounded and speechless. She was accustomed to being charming. Monosyllabic grunts, à la yeah, weren’t charming in the least.
“Yeah.” Emma threaded her hand into the hair at the base of KC’s skull and firmly cupped the back of KC’s head. “I was really bummed when you let it grow out.”
“I can cut it again,” KC offered. Surely she could find an all-night barber in Austin. She’d go right now.
“If you want.” Emma shrugged and her fingers pulled tighter on KC’s hair. “I like it like this, too.”
KC subconsciously leaned closer to Emma, her lips parted and eyes half closed. She looked desperate and needy and she didn’t care. Emma’s hand slipped into the gap between the bottom hem of her shirt and the waist of her jeans. She spread her fingers wide and held KC tight as they swayed slowly on the dance floor. Her touch melted into KC’s skin, whose resistance to Emma fa
ded to a dull buzz, barely audible in the back of her mind.
KC groaned. “Emma.”
“Yes.” Emma moved even closer, their lips almost touching. When she spoke, the word entered KC’s mouth on an inhale.
KC searched Emma’s eyes. They were clouded with so much desire. They also held fear and uncertainty. KC pressed her lips gently to Emma’s, not more than a barely there brush of skin, then pulled away completely. She stepped out of the haven of Emma’s arms and into the confusion of reality. “I love you.”
KC had said those words to Emma more times than she could count during the course of their friendship, and they’d never seemed so important. Emma deserved so much more than KC could give her in this moment, and that bothered her. She’d never spent much time evaluating herself, her motivations. Usually if it felt good, she went with it and didn’t think much about what it all meant.
Emma was sure and steady. She had a plan, weighed the impact of her decisions, and made sacrifices for those she loved. Emma loved completely and generously. Somewhere along the line, while KC was being selfish, Emma had grown up beautifully. KC was ashamed that she fell so short of the mark set by Emma. She wanted to be worthy of love and to be able to return it in kind.
Chapter Nine
It was well past last call when they finally left Rusty’s. By the time they made it back to the La Quinta, the alcohol had worked its way clear of KC’s system, but her head still felt heavy and full. She suspected her buzz had more to do with Emma than the residual effects of too many whiskey sours.
Emma locked herself in the bathroom to change, leaving KC alone with her thoughts in a hotel room with a king-sized bed that seemed to grow smaller by the second.
KC pulled on her nightclothes. The oversized T-shirt and boxer briefs weren’t very appealing, but they were comfortable. Emma was the only woman she could share a bed with and not worry about dressing right for the occasion. Tonight she wished she’d put more thought into her pajamas.
KC’s phone played “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” Just as she pressed the button to say hello, she heard a crashing noise in the bathroom coupled with a very loud, “Fuck!”
“You okay?” KC held the phone far enough away from her mouth that she wouldn’t be yelling in Lonnie’s ear. She might not have been quite ready to play nice with Lonnie again, but that didn’t mean she wanted to deafen her either.
“I’m good. Just dropped my makeup case.” Emma’s reply was muffled through the door, but it still sounded like a lie. A makeup case accidentally dropped on the floor didn’t sound like something being thrown at the wall.
KC let it go. “Okay, so long as you’re not hurt.” She pulled the phone to her ear.
Lonnie was saying her name over and over, trying to get her attention. “KC? KC? Dammit, KC! Listen to me.”
“I’m here. Sorry.” KC wondered if she’d ever reach a point where her chest didn’t flutter at the sound of Lonnie’s voice. She tried to separate her visceral reaction to Lonnie from the emotional and mental. Lust did not equal love did not equal logic. Logically this was a very bad idea. Emotionally, when she stripped away the lust, she felt she was being used, and she didn’t like that. Close behind that, she felt sadness and regret. As always, though, the lust remained clear and focused and threatened to overpower all else.
“Oh, sugar, there you are. I’ve been worried about you.” Lonnie didn’t sound worried. She sounded horny. Dollars to donuts, this was a late-night booty call, not just a friend checking in.
KC hadn’t talked to Lonnie since breakfast Tuesday morning. She knew what she had to say, but didn’t trust herself to get the words out properly yet. Her relationship with Lonnie had to end, but that didn’t mean she was ready to cut ties. Lonnie, for all the wrong in their getting together, made her feel wanted.
“I’ve just been busy, Lonnie. Nothing to worry about.” KC inwardly cursed. She’d tried to sound aloof, but she sounded eager and turned on just like every other time Lonnie called her. She shouldn’t have waited to tell Lonnie it was over. Every day that passed since talking to Kendall left her more clouded and confused.
“I miss you, KC. Can’t you come over?” Lonnie never invited KC over. She was too afraid that Glen or Leann would come home. She must be feeling desperate.
“Not tonight.” She thought about telling Lonnie she was in Austin for the weekend but decided she sounded stronger if she left that part out. Let Lonnie think she was able to resist. “Besides, isn’t Glen home by now?”
“He had to work late. Inventory or some such. I swear, that man loves to count his toys.”
“Inventory? What about Leann?”
“She’s spending the night at her grandma’s.” Lonnie lowered the pitch of her voice. “It’s just me, all alone here, sugar. Can’t you please come help me?”
KC shifted and squeezed her thighs together. Lonnie’s voice had the most amazing effect on her body. With just a few words, she could shift all the moisture to between her legs and chase all the thoughts clean out of her head. She’d spent the evening feeling guilty and turned on by Emma. Lonnie shifted her attention. Their relationship might not be healthy, but at least it was clearly defined. Until KC said the words it’s over aloud to Lonnie, Lonnie was her lover. Being excited by Lonnie was comforting in its familiarity.
“God, Lonnie.” KC groaned. So much for sounding strong. She took a breath and tried again. “I can’t.”
“Well, maybe you can help me from there. I can’t stop thinking about Monday.” Lonnie paused and KC leaned forward, listening carefully to the change in Lonnie’s breathing. “About the way you bent me over my desk and took me from behind. You’ve never been like that before.”
“I know.” KC still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. The sex had set her on fire, but the emotional aftermath had left her shaken. For a moment, she let herself go to the memory. The thought of Lonnie’s ass, bared and ready, with her dress pushed around her waist, left her light-headed, and the tactile image had her hands palming the air and her hips moving in rhythm with the memory. She forced herself to stop, to focus on calming her body. She thought of Lonnie in her choir robe, standing next to her mama. It helped a lot. She thought about Lonnie secure in Glen’s embrace on the sidewalk after the encounter Lonnie claimed she couldn’t stop thinking about. She’d looked the picture of a devoted wife and mother.
It hit KC like a flash. She couldn’t trust Lonnie. Lonnie was using her. She’d always known it, in the back of her mind. The knowledge was ever-present but easily dismissed. Even Kendall saying the words aloud less than a week ago hadn’t been enough to truly penetrate. Now it was all she could think. Does Lonnie even like me? She didn’t know the answer.
“Are you sure you can’t come over?” Lonnie’s voice melted KC from the inside out, but the liquid state hardened in her stomach as she thought of the damage their affair would cause if her family found out. She heard the muffled sound of fabric rustling in the background. “It’s just me here alone in this big ol’ bed.” Lonnie let the image settle for a moment then added, “Naked.”
If she let her imagination run, she’d be done for. Even with her newfound understanding of their relationship, she still had years of practice lusting after Lonnie. Lonnie was her bad habit and she needed to find a way to break it.
She’d be okay if she schooled her imagination, reminded herself of the look on Leann’s face when she spit the words my mother’s lover. If she thought only about the core foundation of her family and how much rested on her ability to just say no, to keep it in her pants. If she thought about the sense of unease building in her gut after every encounter with Lonnie. If she did all that, she would be able to get off the phone with only a minor hit to her personal pride. She’d be able to regroup. She might even begin to piece together her battered integrity.
She just needed to trust herself enough to do it. Right now her honorable intentions were winning the battle with her libido, but she worried about what would happen ne
xt time she saw Lonnie face to face. It was one thing to say no over the phone, where the temptation seemed far away. It was entirely another to say no to a live flesh-and-blood woman who wanted her.
“Lonnie, I can’t do this.” KC was proud of herself. Those words were empowering.
“Are you really going to leave me here to take care of myself alone?” KC could hear her pout through the phone.
KC clenched and unclenched her hands. She didn’t want to leave Lonnie hanging, but she needed to. If she gave in now, she’d hate herself. “This isn’t going to happen.” She left off the not now, not ever again from the end of the sentence. That was a conversation she needed to have in person.
The sound of the toilet flushing and the water running in the sink registered peripherally, but it didn’t fully click until the door opened and Emma emerged. The light from the bathroom haloed her body and she looked like an angel, like some ethereal being sent from on high to save her from her own lack of willpower.
KC jumped out of bed and dropped the phone. She could hear Lonnie yelling “What the hell” as she scrambled to pick it up.
She stared at Emma and held the phone to her ear. “I gotta go.” She fumbled with the END button and realized she’d held the phone upside down. She disconnected the call and sat on the side of the bed.
“You look…different.”
Emma wore a gray camisole and matching satin briefs. KC was caught up in Emma’s soft femininity. When Emma slept over at KC’s, she invariably forgot to bring nightclothes and ended up wearing one of KC’s old T-shirts and a pair of sweats. At home, it was easy to forget that Emma was even a girl. Here, wearing that, KC felt like a fool for ever overlooking that fact. KC realized her mouth was still hanging open and she clamped it shut. Idiot.
Emma’s lips curved into a half smile. “Thanks. I think.”
KC’s phone rang and Emma stopped smiling. “Are you going to answer that?”
“Huh? What?” KC looked at her phone, looked at Emma, then back at her phone. She pressed the button to send Lonnie to voice mail. Talking to her was a bad idea, made worse by the expression on Emma’s face when she heard Lonnie’s ring tone. “No, I’m not.” She set the phone to silent and laid it on the bedside table.
