Going on Red

by Lyn Gardner

  Brodie returned to the bed and unzipping her jacket, she pulled out the bag containing the candles. Placing it on the nightstand, she looked across the hall to see Kate standing in the other room. “Hey, if you’re going to be okay, I think I’m going to get out of these wet clothes.”

  Lost in her thoughts, it took a moment for Kate to answer. “I’ll be fine, Brodie. Thanks.”

  Kate closed the door and rested against it. She wasn’t fine. Kate wasn’t even close. Since the kiss, she’d been unable to get the flavor of that memory off her lips or out of her head. She had reprimanded Brodie and accused her of taking advantage, yet Kate knew she was as much to blame, if not more. The dress she wore, she wore for Brodie. When hands were held, she was the one who had made the first move, and when Brodie rested her hand on Kate’s bare shoulder, it was Kate who had remained motionless, praying Brodie wouldn’t remove it.

  Brodie had only managed to hang her jacket on a hook in the bathroom before a brilliant flash lit up the room. Within seconds, a booming crash of thunder rattled the window, and then the room lit up again. Impressed by Mother Nature’s show of power, Brodie went to the window and pushed aside the drapes. There wasn’t much to see other than the alley and the rain slashing against the glass until the black sky was splintered by tentacles of lightning branching out in all directions. Brodie’s eyes lit up as she watched the spectacle, and she was about to drag the upholstered chair over to the window and get comfortable when the lights in her room flickered, and then everything went dark. “Well, shit.”

  Brodie did an excellent imitation of a gauze-wrapped mummy as she made her way across the room, feeling for the bag of candles on the nightstand. She uttered a few expletives when her shin met the metal frame of the bed before she managed to find the bag, and feeling her way to the bathroom, Brodie fumbled for the lighter in her jacket pocket. A minute later, her room now aglow with candlelight, she set one jarred candle on her nightstand and carried the other across the hall to Kate.

  Brodie lightly tapped on Kate’s door, chuckling when she heard Kate rattle off her fair share of curse words before the door finally opened. “I thought you might need one of these,” Brodie said, holding up the candle.

  As Kate reached for the jar, another resounding crash of thunder rattled the hostel and cringing at the racket, she stepped aside so Brodie could come into the room. “Do you have any idea when this shit is going to stop?”

  “Um…I told you,” Brodie said, placing the candle on the dresser. “It’s not expected to let up until morning.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Kate said, aimlessly looking around. “I forgot.”

  A blinding flash suddenly lit up the room, and as soon as Brodie saw Kate’s eyes double in size, she was at her side. No longer concerned with their argument, Brodie pulled Kate into her arms. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said, rubbing Kate’s back. “It’s just a storm.”

  Kate listened to the rain beating against the window, but it didn’t compare to the pounding of her heart. Brodie was only doing what friends do, trying to offer comfort and soothe her nerves. Kate knew it was innocent, yet with each gentle caress, Brodie was unraveling everything Kate was trying to keep hidden.

  The next crash of thunder seemed to rock the hostel, and feeling Kate trembling in her arms, Brodie gathered her tightly against her chest. “Kate, there’s no need to be afraid,” she said, her tone hushed and calm. “It’ll be over before you know it.”

  “I’m not afraid of the storm.”

  “No?”

  “No,” Kate said, tipping her head to look at Brodie. “I’m afraid of this.”

  Brodie didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She didn’t even breathe. She merely swallowed hard as Kate reached up and touched her face. Mesmerized, she watched as Kate’s eyes darted from her lips to her eyes and back again, and when Kate slipped her hand behind Brodie’s neck and gently pulled her downward, Brodie offered not one ounce of resistance.

  With the memories of what happened a few hours before still in her mind, Brodie allowed Kate to take the lead, and her kiss was tender, almost timid. Lips parted and then met again, heads slowly tilting to allow for new areas to be tasted, and when Brodie could no longer hold back and lightly drew her tongue across Kate’s lips, this time Kate didn’t pull away.

  Kate moaned as Brodie’s tongue slipped inside, and as she slowly explored the recesses of Kate’s mouth, Kate could do nothing but offer her more. Opening her lips, she deepened the kiss, and as their tongues danced…their hearts began to race.

  Brodie’s body throbbed with desire, and a wildfire spread outward from her core, igniting everything in its path. Her body tingled. Her heart pounded, and her breathing grew shallow, and it took all the strength she had to pull out of the kiss. “Are you sure?” she said, gazing at Kate. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Their eyes met, and it only took Brodie a few moments before she found her answer. Swirling amidst the passion in Kate’s eyes was an infinitesimal hint of doubt, and when Kate lowered her gaze, Brodie knew the evening was over. She held Kate in her arms for a few seconds longer before placing a light kiss on her brow, and pulling out of the embrace, Brodie walked to the door. “Good night, Kate. See you in the morning.”

  ***

  Brodie sat in the thread-bare upholstered chair wearing nothing but an oversized Oxford and a pair of knickers. After she had left Kate’s room, she ran a bath and sitting in the tub until the water grew cold, she hoped it would extinguish the fire in her heart as quickly as it had the one between her legs.

  As she had done for the past two hours, Brodie stared off into space, scolding her heart for not listening to her head. She had become a dog chasing its tail, and she was never going to catch it. Brodie rocked back in the chair, letting out a long breath before reaching for another cigarette. They were a crutch, and she knew it, but at that particular moment, Brodie didn’t give a good goddamn. Tomorrow she’d quit smoking, and tomorrow she would, once and for all, quit Kate.

  Brodie had barely managed to take a drag when she heard a noise, a noise that had nothing to do with the storm. She waited, praying she wouldn’t hear it again, but when someone rapped lightly on her door for the second time, Brodie rolled her eyes. “Fuck me,” she said under her breath, and pushing herself out of the chair, Brodie reached the door in four long strides. Yanking it open, she hesitated when she noticed Kate was still wearing the clothes dampened by the rain. “I’m not sure why I need to tell you this because you are an adult, but you should get out of those wet clothes,” Brodie said, staring down her nose at Kate. “And if you’re looking for towels, I don’t have any extras, so you’ll just have to make do.”

  As if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, Kate slogged into Brodie’s room without waiting for an invitation.

  Brodie gritted her teeth, and silently counted to ten before slamming the door. “What do you want from me, Kate? Can I ask you that?” she said, turning to Kate. “One minute you’re hot, and the next, you’re cold, and then you have the audacity to make it all my fault when I misread signals that I didn’t misread. Well, it isn’t all my fault, Kate, and I’m done with your games. Go back to your room. You don’t belong in here.”

  Without saying a word, Kate walked to the dresser. She stubbed out the cigarette burning in the ashtray, and while she extinguished one fire, she fanned the flames of another.

  “Kate, what in the hell are you doing?” When she didn’t answer, Brodie marched across the room until she was inches from Kate. “Kate, answer the bloody question. What are you doing? Why are you here?”

  “Yes.”

  “What?” Brodie said, staring blankly back at Kate.

  “Yes.”

  Brodie tilted her head, rewinding their previous conversation in her mind until she came to the only question Kate could possibly be answering. Her mouth dropped open, and everything she had condemned herself for doing, Brodie was about to do again. Deliberating for only a sec
ond, Brodie came up behind Kate until she was standing a hairsbreadth away from the woman. “Yes?”

  For the past two hours, Kate had argued, debated, and rationalized herself in and out of Brodie’s bed. Turn one direction, and her life returned to normal, turn another, and it would be anything but, yet denying what she wanted was futile. With her heart beating so fast she dared not move, Kate could only nod, and when she felt Brodie’s hands on her shoulders, pushing aside the damp sweater to expose bare skin, Kate closed her eyes as her lungs emptied.

  Brodie lowered her lips to skin, ivory and soft. There was no need to rush, no need not to cherish every kiss she bestowed as she deliberately moved toward the pulse beating in Kate’s neck. Kate leaned her head, silently giving Brodie permission to continue, and wrapping her arm around Kate’s middle, Brodie gently urged her closer. As their bodies spooned, Brodie nuzzled against the hollow of Kate’s neck as her hands found the hem of Kate’s sweater, and a heartbeat later, Kate raised her arms, and her cardigan was lifted off and dropped to the floor.

  After the party, they had both changed into traveling clothes, but Kate hadn’t bothered with her undergarments. Her bra was the color of blood. Strapless and underwire, it exposed and presented beyond Brodie’s wildest of dreams, and as she ran a trail of kisses across Kate’s shoulder, Brodie’s eyes remained riveted on the valley between the ivory swells. Her fingers danced lightly down Kate’s arms and across her belly, leaving goosebumps in their path, and when she unfastened the snap on Kate’s jeans, Brodie heard Kate draw in a hissing breath. The denim, still wet from the rain, was heavy, and it took almost a minute for Kate to free herself from the damp fabric. She kicked them to the side, but as she went to turn around, Brodie held her firm.

  “No, not yet,” Brodie whispered. “Not yet.”

  Kate melted into Brodie’s body, and the sensual assault continued. Brodie seared Kate’s skin with a pleasurable path of delicate kisses, and when she reached Kate’s ear, Brodie ran her tongue around its edge before gently nibbling on the lobe. Kate’s core throbbed. She was being pushed to a place she had never been. A place where thoughts disappear and instincts take over, yet when Kate tried to turn to face Brodie, she found herself stopped again. “Please, Brodie,” Kate said in a breath. “I want to see you.”

  Brodie smiled into the creaminess of Kate’s neck. Weighed down by arousal and need, Kate’s voice was breathy and low, and every word had made Brodie’s body pulse with desire. No longer able to resist, Brodie raised her hands and cupped Kate’s breasts.

  “Oh, my God,” Kate said. “Oh…God.”

  Kate felt passion seep from her body as Brodie fondled her through the red spandex edged in lace. Her nipples were hard and erect, and Brodie was tweaking them so flawlessly Kate couldn’t help but squirm. She turned her head and found Brodie gazing back at her. Her eyes now appeared almost black, and blazing in the inkiness was a hunger that took Kate’s breath away. For a split-second, she felt Brodie’s grip loosen, and Kate quickly spun in her arms. Grabbing Brodie by the hair, she pulled her down until their lips met.

  It was a devouring, open-mouthed kiss with not one hint of shyness or doubt, and filled with the ferocity of unrestrained emotions, once the kiss started neither wanted it to end. Fingers laced through hair, and heads leaned this way and that and until finally, with lips swollen from passion, and gasping for air, they parted.

  Through heavy-lidded eyes, Kate watched as Brodie began unbuttoning her Oxford. One by one, the fasteners were freed, and as the shirt gaped, a hint of Brodie’s breasts came into view.

  The image should have been provocative. It should have heated Kate’s blood to the point of boiling, but instead, Kate felt as if she’d been doused in icy water, and the cold, hard reality of what she was about to do punched her in the stomach. This wasn’t something she could take back. This wasn’t something she could ever explain away. This was a craving that, once tasted, would foul the rest of what she wanted in her life. Kate knew she was in love with Brodie, but this moment—this act—would forever pollute Kate’s plans. It would contaminate her thoughts. It would poison future lovers. It would corrupt every minute of the rest of her life.

  Kate took a half-step backward, and when Brodie followed her, Kate put up her hands. “No, don’t.”

  “What’s wrong?” Brodie said with a slight shake of her head.

  “I can’t do this,” Kate said, shrinking further away from Brodie as her eyes remained glued on Brodie’s partially unbuttoned shirt. “I can’t do this.”

  It was Brodie’s turn to step back, and as tears welled in her eyes, she struggled to take a breath. “Kate, please…not again.”

  “No, I can’t do this,” Kate said, snatching up her clothes. “This isn’t what I want.”

  “You’re just scared. It’s new.”

  “It’s wrong,” Kate yelled, clutching her sweater to her chest to cover what Brodie had already seen. “This isn’t who I am. This isn’t who I want to be. I’m sorry, Brodie, but I cannot do this.”

  Brodie didn’t move a muscle as Kate pushed past by her. She listened as one door slammed and then another, and in a room musty and quiet, Brodie slowly buttoned her shirt. Just under the surface simmered an emotion, and taking a ragged breath, Brodie went over and sank into the cushion of the old, shabby chair. She stared at the flame of the candle across the room, and as it drifted to and fro, she lit a cigarette. Brodie wondered if this was how it felt to be dead. She was so empty, so hollowed out that the universe no longer existed outside of this room. There was no tomorrow. There was no future. It was all black and dark, and resting her cigarette in the ashtray, Brodie bowed her head and cried for the loss of a love she would never have.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Someone’s busy,” Devon said as she strolled into the bedroom.

  “If people could make up their bloody minds, it would make my job a hell of a lot easier,” Brodie muttered as she sat bent over the drafting table in the corner of the room.

  “Problems?” Devon said, looking past Brodie to the papers covering the slanted surface.

  “No, not really,” Brodie said, letting out a long breath. “I’m just working on something for the Hirshfelds.”

  “I thought we finished that job.”

  Brodie looked up. “We?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said we.”

  Over the past few months, Devon had become well-versed in walking on eggshells around Brodie, and she held up her hands. “My bad. A slip of the tongue.”

  Brodie spun in her chair, shuffling through the papers in front of her before turning back around. “It needn’t be,” she said, handing Devon an envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “I have a feeling if you open it, you’ll find out.”

  Devon didn’t have to be told twice. Ripping open the flap, she pulled out a piece of a paper, and after reading what was written, she looked at Brodie. “I don’t understand.”

  “Ethan and I have been talking. We both believe, especially in this day and age, it makes sense to branch out a bit. He can build, and I can design, but smart homes are all the rage, and they are not going to fall out of grace. Between home theaters, home technology, automation, and security systems, there’s a huge part of the market we’ve yet to tap, and we’d like your assistance in doing just that.”

  “Security systems? I thought you always used Basham and Sons.”

  “Have you seen Basham or his sons? Not only are they never on time and never clean up after themselves, if I have to see one more of their butt cracks, I’ll be forever mentally scarred. Besides, I can’t imagine security systems fall that far outside your high-tech wizardry.”

  “They don’t. It’s really just a bunch of ones and zeros.”

  Brodie peered at Devon. “I’ll pretend to understand what that means.”

  “Speaking of understanding,” Devon said, glancing at the paper again. “I’m really not sure I understand this.”

&
nbsp; “Ethan and I would like you to become a partner in Spaces by Shaw. By signing that document, you’d give up your independent contractor status and join with us. We haven’t figured out all the details, but the amount of money shown there would cover your stake in the company, and once it’s all said and done, you’d be almost an equal partner with Ethan and me.”

  “Almost?”

  “Well, we did start the company, but that doesn’t mean we can’t even up the split down the road. Baby steps.”

  A weak smile appeared on Devon’s face as she scanned the contract again. “Brodie, I really appreciate what you’re offering, but…but this would wipe out my savings. I’m not sure—”

  “You don’t have to pay it all at once, Devon. We’d work out something where a bit of your pay would go against what you owe us, and if you want to pay more toward the balance, you can. Totally up to you.”

  “But I’d still get paid?”

  “No, I want my new, techno-brilliant business partner to live on the streets,” Brodie said with a laugh. “Of course, you’ll get paid. Actually, even with paying against this, you’ll probably…no…you’ll definitely make more than you’re making now.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” Brodie said. “We have some things in the works, and if they come to fruition, you, Ethan, and I are not only going to be working our arses off, we’re also going to be bringing in quite a bit of cash. No more living in that tiny flat of yours in that not-so-good area, Devon. No more taking the Tube because if you want a car, you’ll be able to afford one, and when you want to treat that lady of yours to a special night or a special holiday, you’ll easily be able to do just that…with proper scheduling, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “So?”

  “You’re not going to give a girl a minute to think?”