by Lyn Gardner
Gina was wearing an oversized cream-colored silk blouse that ended at her thighs, and the billowing sleeves were fastened at the wrist by a long line of pearl buttons. The gold chain belt she wore emphasized her slender waist, and instead of trousers, Gina was wearing leggings the color of espresso. Although the fabric was opaque, Devon could easily see the contour of the muscles in Gina’s calves, pulled taut by the three-inch high heels she wore, and as she lifted her eyes, Devon cursed the length of Gina’s shirt. It was far too long.
Gina opened a door and waved Devon inside. “There’s the piece of crap,” she said, pointing toward the desk.
Devon chuckled and tossing her parka on top of some filing cabinets, she went over and sat in the high-backed leather executive chair behind the desk. “So, what’s the problem with it?”
“Everything,” Gina said, and plopping down on a chair opposite the desk, she rested her elbows on her knees. “I can’t get it to print. I keep getting error messages that I don’t understand, and then the bloody thing locks up, and I have to restart it.”
“Okay,” Devon said, and pressing the button on the laptop, she waited while it slowly came to life. “Let me see what’s going on.”
“But Dev, it’s Saturday night. Do you really want to spend it back here trying to fix that stupid thing?”
Devon raised her eyes, and her temperature rose with them. Gina’s shirt had gaped, and Devon now had a view she’d never had before. Between Gina’s cleavage and what Brodie had told her, it was all Devon could do to form a word. Feeling her face begin to heat, she looked back down at the laptop. “I…uh…I didn’t have any plans tonight. Don’t worry about it.”
“I can just buy a new one.”
“Why do that if I can fix this one?” Devon said, glancing at the laptop. “Besides, this model is only a couple of years old.”
“How’d you know that?”
Devon looked up and then right back down again. “Um…because it’s my job to…to know that. So, why don’t you go do yours, and let me do mine?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s cool. I just need your password.”
“Oh, let me write it down. It’s ridiculously long.” Gina sprang up and snatching a notepad from the desk, she bent over to jot down the number, giving Devon another mouthwatering view.
“Here you go,” Gina said, looking up as she handed the paper to Devon. “Anything else?”
“Um…no. I’m good.”
“Okay, see you in a bit.”
As soon as Gina closed the door, Devon deflated as if all the air had been sucked out of her. Fixing the computer was going to be the easy part. Coming out to Gina…not so much.
***
An hour later, Devon was doing her best to concentrate on Gina’s laptop, yet each time she needed to wait for another update to come in, her eyes settled on a photograph sitting on the corner of the desk. It had been taken the day Devon had graduated from college, and to her knowledge, there was only one copy, and it sat on Kate’s mantle.
It was on Devon’s sixteenth birthday when she first laid eyes on Gina Parker. Kate had come home from college for the weekend with her best friend in tow to celebrate the day, and Devon’s infatuation with the nineteen-year-old was instant. She had never met anyone like Gina. Her accent proper and her clothes trendy, she would chatter on about this and that, and Devon would hang on every word. She told herself it was purely curiosity, her interest piqued by someone far more compelling than her own whimsical and rebellious friends, and Devon kept telling herself that until she met, married, and divorced Charlie Cassidy.
Devon never realized how much she talked about Gina until one night, during one of their many arguments, Charlie shouted that Devon should just shag Gina to get it out of her system. The verbal sucker punch sent Devon reeling. Escaping to the spare bedroom, she spent the night alone with her tears, and when they finally dried up, she was left with her thoughts. In the darkness, the pieces began to fall into place. Devon had dreamed about Gina before, a confusing collage of images that had made her mind race and her body pulse, and more than once, Devon had awakened from those dreams and used Charlie to try to satisfy what another had started.
Devon jumped when she heard the door open, and raising her eyes, she saw Gina coming in carrying a bottle of beer.
“Thought you might be thirsty,” Gina said, handing Devon the lager.
“Thanks.”
Gina moved around the desk and looked at the computer screen. “Any luck?”
“A bit,” Devon said, glancing at the laptop. “You know, you really need to install updates and defrag this thing occasionally.”
“Then it shouldn’t give me the option to remind myself later, now should it?” Gina said, squatting down next to Devon. “So, no other surprises then?”
“Just one.” Devon took a slow swig of her beer, and as she set the bottle down, she pointed at the photograph. “I thought Kate had the only copy.”
Gina’s heart began to pound. To the oblivious, the photograph was merely one of a college graduate. Draped in a cap and gown and clutching a diploma, Devon was looking into Kate’s camera, wearing a smile that only comes from accomplishment. Yet, a brief burst of wind accompanied by Devon’s elated mood had turned the photo into something so much more. Devon’s hair was loose and flying in the breeze, making her appear like a model posing for the cover of a magazine. Gaiety danced in her eyes, and two tiny dimples dented her cheeks, and while Gina had already known she had fallen for Kate’s sister, that day had forever sealed the deal. So, unbeknownst to her best friend, when Kate was away on holiday and Gina went over to water the houseplants, she had a copy of the photograph made…and now she had to explain why.
Intent on staring at the picture, it wasn’t until Gina pried her eyes away from it that she realized Devon had leaned in closer, and Gina swallowed hard. “Um…she does have the only copy. I mean…um…I mean, she did.”
Their faces were inches apart, and Devon could feel the warmth of Gina’s breath as it washed over her. Somewhere in the room was a clock, slowly ticking away the seconds and the laptop hummed, downloading yet another update, but the longer she stared, the quieter the room became. Devon had never allowed herself to gaze into those eyes of denim blue before, and now she couldn’t look away. Now…she didn’t have to look away.
“So,” Devon said, captivated by the pools of blue. “Do you want to explain why you made a copy?”
“Um…no reason,” Gina said, pushing herself to her feet. “I should get back to work.”
“Not so fast,” Devon said, and jumping up, she grabbed Gina’s hand. “We need to talk.”
“Seriously, Dev. I have to get back to work,” Gina said, trying to pull out of Devon’s grip. “We’re slammed.”
Devon didn’t say a word as she closed the gap between them. She looked into Gina’s eyes, and when she saw the tears of truth, Devon leaned in and pressed her lips against Gina’s.
The kiss started out as tentative. One was in shock, and the other was still nagged by a modicum of doubt, but it only took a few seconds before both were unable to deny what they felt. Their lips came together again and again, tasting slowly as flavors new and delicious blended. Their breathing quickened as their blood began to heat, and when Devon finally deepened the kiss, they both moaned and lost themselves in the moment.
Gina was trapped in a cyclone, the rush of desire and need pulsing through her veins stronger than anything she could ever imagine. Devon’s lips were like velvet, and her taste was heavenly, and Gina wanted to revel in it forever, yet the strength of the lust-filled storm was no match for the tenacity of reality. This was Kate’s sister. This was not allowed. This could not happen.
Gina pulled out of the kiss and stumbled backward. “We can’t do this,” she said, holding up her hands. “Jesus, Devon. Your sister is my best friend.”
“Kate has nothing to do with this,” Devon said as she walked over and touched Gina’s cheek
. “This is about you and me…and what we want.”
“You…you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do,” Devon said, leaning in for a kiss.
“Devon, come on,” Gina said, trying half-heartedly to push Devon away. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I know exactly what I’m doing.” Devon gazed into Gina’s eyes as she reached down and unclasped the gold belt around Gina’s waist. “Kate may be your best friend…but I’m about to become your lover.”
Chapter Five
With Frank Daggett on holiday, Kate’s week went by without a hitch. Managing to get two cases closed and the mountain of paperwork on her desk reduced by a few inches, she was heading into the weekend with only one thought on her mind. She needed to apologize to Brodie Shaw.
For two weeks, whenever her mind wasn’t on work, it was on the night Brodie left Kate’s house with fire in her eyes. Kate had tried to make excuses for their argument a hundred times, convincing herself she was only trying to protect Devon, but that wasn’t entirely the truth. And the truth wasn’t something Kate entirely wanted to face.
She didn’t want to admit that her stomach had fluttered when she came downstairs that night to find Brodie standing just inside the doorway. She didn’t want to admit that when Brodie had pulled her close during their fight, her heart began to race, and her knees had weakened. Those feelings weren’t normal for Kate. She didn’t do schoolgirl crushes. She didn’t believe in love at first sight, and being attracted to a woman was uncharted territory, and it was territory Kate had no intention of investigating.
Kate had planned her life like a roadmap with each milestone precisely plotted. Her career now fully underway, by mile marker 37, she would be married and have at least one child with another on the way, and by marker 40, she would have climbed the ladder to reach the rung of Detective Chief Inspector. It didn’t matter Kate had no prospects on the horizon. It didn’t matter that no man had ever held her interest for longer than a few months. It didn’t matter that none had made her swoon like the women in the romance novels she used to read, because that was make-believe and Kate preferred real life. Real-life was about decisions. Real-life was about plans, and real-life was about controlling your own destiny. Kate controlled her fate. Kate made the decisions that shaped her life, and she liked the route she had chosen. She had designed it with all the signposts aimed in one direction, and Brodie Shaw wasn’t on any of them. Brodie was a danger sign…and one that had to be avoided.
Be that as it may, when Kate left the station late on Friday, she planned to visit Calabria one last time. She hoped she’d find Brodie at her usual corner booth with the red and white checkered tablecloth, and after apologizing for her rudeness, Kate would walk away, and their paths would never cross again. Kate told herself she could do it. Kate told herself she was resolute. Kate told herself…it was simple.
***
“You know, the more I think about it, I think Gina’s right.”
“About what?” Brodie said, looking up from her worktable.
“I think Kate likes you,” Devon said as she ripped open the packaging of another smart switch.
Brodie’s eyes narrowed. “Did they have a sale on stupid pills recently?”
“I’m serious.”
“You and Gina are both nutters,” Brodie said, returning to her work. “The woman hates me.”
“I don’t think so, and I know you don’t hate her.”
“I never said I did.”
Devon sauntered across the room and looked over Brodie’s shoulder. “You fancy her, don’t you?”
“I am not having this conversation, Devon.”
Devon’s smile pushed her cheeks out of the way. “Oh, wow. It must be serious if you’re calling me Devon again.”
Brodie tossed her pencil on the table, and leaning back in her chair, she huffed out a breath. “Would it help if I asked you politely to drop the subject?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my friend, and I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what exactly?”
“Like totally enamored.”
“Fuck you,” Brodie said through a weak grin.
“But it’s true, isn’t it?” Devon said. “You’re head over heels in like with my sister.”
“Fuck you twice, Cassidy.”
Devon’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “That bad—eh?”
Brodie let out a long breath and ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t fall for straight women, Devon, but I can’t get her out of my bloody head.”
“Well, I think it’s mutual if that helps. I mean, Jesus, she couldn’t keep her eyes off you at dinner.”
“Most likely, due to the fact she didn’t want me there.”
Devon shrugged. “All I know is that I’ve never seen Kate look at any man the way she was looking at you that night.”
“Perhaps that’s because she didn’t want to kill them.”
“I’m telling you,” Devon said, draping her arm across Brodie’s shoulders. “She likes you.”
“You sound just like Gina, and speaking of Gina, how is she?”
Devon felt her cheeks flame. “Gina is fine and stop trying to change the subject.”
Brodie didn’t even try to contain her smile. “So, you and she are—”
“Yes, we are,” Devon said, feeling as if the temperature in the room had risen a thousand degrees. “But we were talking about you and Kate, not Gina and me, so stop trying to avoid the subject.”
“There is no subject,” Brodie said, and jumping to her feet, she strode out of the room with Devon on her heels. When Brodie reached the front door, she whipped around. “And I already admitted I like her. Okay? What more do you want?”
“Have you called her?”
“Are you crazy?”
“Why?”
Brodie scrubbed her hand over her face. “Devon, listen very closely. She—is—not—interested.”
“I can give you her number if you’d like.”
“Jesus, bloody Christ. You’re a fucking pain in the arse,” Brodie said, tugging on her coat. “If there were to be any next moves made, your sister would have to be the one who makes them. And even with global warming, I doubt very seriously that hell is going to freeze over anytime soon, so drop it. I am going to dinner, and then I’m going to find some tall, attractive blonde who has no issues and no slapping reflex, and I’m going to shag her until she can’t remember her name.”
***
“I’m told the antipasto is good.”
When Brodie arrived at Calabria a few minutes before, she had sailed in with her head held high, and her confidence soaring. She didn’t date straight women. She wasn’t a love-struck teenager. There were lots of other women in the world, and after dinner, Brodie had every intention of sampling one or maybe even two. So, when she heard Kate’s voice and her libido awoke instantly, Brodie’s temples pulsed. “Thanks for the suggestion,” she said as she picked up her glass of wine. “But I already ordered dinner.”
Kate stood by the booth, mentally trying to force Brodie to look in her direction, and when she didn’t, Kate sighed. “Look…I just want to say I’m sorry for what I said to you at my house. I didn’t have the right—”
“That’s right. You didn’t,” Brodie snapped, finally meeting Kate’s stare with one of her own. “I may not live by your principles, DI Monroe, but trust me, I do have some of my own.”
“I was wrong.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Will you forgive me?”
“And why in the hell would I want to do that?”
Before Kate could answer, Angie appeared carrying a huge bowl of pasta and an overflowing basket of garlic bread. Watching as the food was placed in front of Brodie, Kate waited until Angie walked away before speaking. “So, I see you’re in the mood to waddle tonight.”
The last thing Brodie wa
nted to do was smile, and she waited long enough to get it under control before gazing up at Kate. “And what, DI Monroe, are you in the mood for?”
The words were filled with innuendo and challenge, and Kate’s body reacted to both. She was being tested, goaded into either another argument or a peace treaty, and the choice was now hers to make. Seconds ticked by as she stood there in silence. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t what she had planned. This was supposed to be simple, except it wasn’t. It wasn’t even close.
“Well,” Kate said, offering Brodie a tentative smile. “I think I’d like to have dinner with you.”
It was the last thing Brodie expected to hear. The chip on her shoulder was suddenly teetering, and it was all Brodie could do not to scream. How could she so easily forget or possibly forgive Kate for the belligerent attitude she had displayed at her house? The woman had been a downright bitch, yet in an instant, the past no longer mattered. The woman she thought she’d never see again was standing right in front of her. Brodie pulled in a breath, taking a few seconds before she found her voice. “Then, by all means, DI Monroe,” she said, gesturing toward the other side of the booth. “Have a seat.”
In record time, Kate took off her coat and slid into the booth. “If you don’t mind, can we drop the formalities? My name is Kate.”
“Then Kate it is,” Brodie said, eyeing the woman.
Angie appeared out of nowhere with another place setting, and a minute later, Brodie was filling the smaller bowls with pasta.
“So, what are we having?” Kate said as Brodie placed a bowl in front of her.
“Cappellini Primavera,” Brodie said as she uncorked the small bottle of Chianti and filled Kate’s glass. “It’s basically just pasta and vegetables in a light garlic sauce.”
“It smells delicious, but isn’t this much garlic going to hamper your evening?”
