by Gerri Hill
Erin reached out, touching her fingers to Rosie’s nose, smiling as the young goat’s tail wiggled. “So the twins are not really good for anything, are they?”
“After they were born, I was supposed to continue milking Carly, to keep her lactating. But I don’t really like milk and it was too much trouble to make cheese and yogurt, so I gave it up. So no, they are pets only. They keep the weeds down, that’s about it.”
“And your rosebushes trimmed.”
“True. And they provide manure for the garden.”
Erin wrinkled up her nose. “Yeah—my favorite job, mucking the stall,” she said with a laugh. “That was pretty mean of you.”
“Yeah, it was.”
A loud clap of thunder seemed to rattle the shed and the goats huddled farther away from the door as rain blew inside. The chickens—all twelve of them—were already up on their roost.
“It’s gotten colder.”
She nodded. “These early afternoon storms usually don’t linger long. The sun will be back out and it’ll warm up again.”
Erin sat down beside her on the hay bale. “Is this the beginning?”
“Of the summer rains? Probably. It’s time. We’re into July already.”
“So every afternoon, these storms pop up?”
“Yes, most days. And sometimes it’ll rain all night long. Those are my favorite nights, as long as it’s not a thunderstorm,” she said, smiling at Erin. “The best sleeping. You’ll love it.”
“Hard to believe I’ve been here over a month already.”
“I know.” She crossed her arms and leaned back. “Are you homesick yet?”
“Surprisingly, no. The first few days, I was feeling sort of…well, not homesick, really. Kinda lost, I guess.”
“Out of your element, I believe is what you said.”
“Yes. I was feeling incredibly lonely, like a lost soul…Like I didn’t belong anywhere. Not there, not here. Like I was suspended in time, drifting about, not knowing where to land. Not knowing if I should land at all.” Erin leaned back too, next to her. “I’m comfortable now. Here. With you.” Erin looked at her questioningly. “And you? Are you used to me being around yet?” Then she smiled. “Or ready for me to leave already?”
It was dark and shadowy in the shed, the heavy clouds blocking out the sun. The rain pattered on the roof and thunder rumbled, the kind of thunder that starts deep in the clouds and rolls out slowly, bouncing along the bluff behind the cabin.
Was she ready for Erin to leave? Long weekends were normally her max with guests. When she hosted someone for a week, by the fourth day she was antsy, ready for her peace and quiet to return—ready to resume her solitary life.
Now? This time? She met Erin’s gaze in the shadows, eyes that were familiar to her now. Her presence was familiar too. There were no uncomfortable silences between them. It felt normal, natural for Erin to be here now.
“I’m not ready for you to leave, no.”
She didn’t intend for the words to be spoken so quietly, so intimately, like a secret was being passed between them. The air felt charged suddenly and she drew in a quick breath as Erin’s eyes never wavered. Then she couldn’t breathe at all as those eyes came closer. She should have turned away. She should have stopped her.
But no, her gaze dropped to the lips that were only inches away from her own. The tiny moan was out even before Erin’s mouth touched hers. It was the gentlest of kisses, quiet and soft. Erin pulled back only far enough to look into her eyes again—trying to read them, she supposed. Melanie couldn’t imagine what she saw there. Her own thoughts were nothing but a jumbled mess. Erin moved closer again, her hands cupping her face, pulling her closer, her mouth touching hers once more. Melanie’s eyes closed and her mouth opened, accepting the kiss, moving against Erin’s lips, feeling the barest touch of tongue. The jolt she felt from that hit her directly between her thighs, and she sprang to her feet, pushing away from Erin.
“No,” she said hoarsely. She was breathing hard, far too hard from a simple kiss. She shook her head. “No. I…I don’t need your pity, Erin.”
Erin stood up too. “Pity? Where did that come from?”
Melanie walked away from her. “I…You don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
Erin frowned. “What are you talking about?”
She turned back to her then. “I…I haven’t been kissed—touched—in so long, I hardly remember it.” She shook her head again. “I don’t need your pity.”
“Oh, Mel. It’s not pity.” Erin came closer. “I like you. You’re attractive. I wanted to kiss you.” She held her hands up. “But I’m sorry. You obviously didn’t want that too. But believe me, it had nothing to do with pity.”
Didn’t it? Why else would Erin kiss her? She took a step away, only then realizing that the rain had stopped, that the sun was shining again. The chickens hopped off their roost, going back into their yard. The twins were already out playing. Only Carly remained, standing half in, half out of the stall, as if not knowing if it was safe to go out yet.
Melanie felt the same. Part of her wanted to run. Part of her wanted to stay. But Erin was the one to move, the one to walk away. Melanie stared at the wall of the shed, hearing the door open and then close behind her. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes.
What a sweet kiss it had been.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dinner had been a relatively quiet affair, their conversation guarded, measured…careful. It was her fault, she knew. Erin had simply followed her lead. She leaned against the bar now, arms folded, her gaze on Erin, who was on the sofa watching TV.
She needed to apologize. She needed to explain. But what would she say? That the kiss scared her more than anything? That she wasn’t prepared for it? That she’d forgotten what it felt like to be kissed? That she’d gotten such a rush from that simple kiss, she’d thought…
She closed her eyes then, remembering the jolt that had shook her. Scared her. She opened them again, staring at Erin, wondering what she should say to her. Erin turned then, as if feeling Melanie watching. She took a deep breath, then made herself move, walking slowly into the living room, her eyes still locked with Erin’s.
She stood beside the sofa and Erin touched the remote, muting the TV. Melanie opened her mouth to speak, again not knowing what to say. Not knowing how to explain but knowing she needed to. Erin’s eyes were gentle on her and she wondered if an apology was even necessary. Yes…she decided it was. She stepped in front of her. The whispered words that left her mouth, however, stunned her. They had nothing to do with an apology.
“Will you kiss me again?”
They spilled out before she could stop them, before she even knew that she was thinking them. Her eyes widened, wanting to take them back. But Erin stood, her gaze never leaving hers.
“Is that what you want?”
Melanie felt tears sting her eyes and she blinked them away. “It’s…it’s been so long,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “I’ve been so lonely.” She wiped at a tear that escaped her eyes. “I didn’t really know how lonely I’d been until you kissed me.”
Erin reached out and wiped a tear away. “Please don’t cry.”
Melanie nodded even as she felt more tears escape. “I’m trying not to,” she managed between trembling lips.
Erin’s arms went around her then, pulling her to her. It felt odd to be this close to someone and she nearly stiffened, just as she’d done the first time Erin had hugged her. Having someone touch her, having arms hold her, was so foreign to her now, she felt as if someone else were standing here, not her. But Erin pulled her in, their bodies touching—their breasts, their stomachs, their hips, their thighs. Her arms finally moved, snaking around Erin’s waist. She clung to her then, burying her face against Erin’s neck.
After a few deep breaths, she made herself relax. She became aware of being in someone’s arms, aware of warm breath against her face, aware of soft hands on her back, moving g
ently. She raised her head then, aware of a mouth close to hers. She didn’t dare move, though. She didn’t dare initiate a kiss between them.
She didn’t have to. The lips that touched hers were incredibly soft, and her eyes closed as she let Erin do what she may. She tried to remember the last time someone had kissed her. The woman at the bar? Had they kissed? Surely, they had. But all she remembered were hands touching her—a stranger’s hands. She had so desperately wanted to go through with it, to be able to be intimate with someone without the weight of guilt choking her. That night was no different than the other times she’d tried. She’d been humiliated by her lack of arousal—once again—and had pushed the woman off her.
She felt different now as Erin deepened the kiss. She felt the hitch in her breath, felt her heart hammering away in her chest, felt the tightness between her thighs…and heard the low moan that escaped when Erin’s tongue gently, subtly, touched her lower lip.
Then she heard an answering moan, heard Erin’s breathing change. What were they doing? This was no longer the gentle, placid kiss she’d expected. Their bodies were pressed together impossibly close…and she longed to get closer. Another moan as Erin’s tongue slipped past her lips; without thinking, she felt her hips arch, felt herself push against Erin.
She should stop… She should apologize… She had no right to take such liberties… But she could do none of those things. Erin’s hands moved up her back, then into her hair, holding her close as their kiss deepened further, tongues and lips moving crazily—passionately. Surely the soft whimpers weren’t hers… Were they?
By the time Erin slowed, easing out of the kiss, Melanie felt like she’d run a marathon. She was literally gasping for breath when Erin’s mouth left hers. Embarrassed, she loosened her hold, trying to step away, but Erin held her close.
“Don’t,” Erin whispered.
“Don’t?”
“Don’t run from me. Don’t try to hide.”
“Erin—”
“It’s okay, Mel. There’s nothing wrong with kissing.”
“I…I…”
“Do you want to do it again? Do you want to do more?”
“Oh…God. I…I can’t.”
Erin let her pull out of her arms, but she kept hold of her hands. She looked at her with raised eyebrows, and Melanie wasn’t sure what Erin expected her to say.
“I…I freeze up. I can’t…I can’t ever go through with it. It’s humiliating. I haven’t been able to get aroused like—”
“Maybe it’ll be different this time. I’m not a stranger.”
Melanie searched her eyes. “Why, Erin? Why do you want to be with me? Just to end my drought? Just for—”
“God…Are you still thinking I’m taking pity on you? That kiss—I’m not that good of an actress.” Erin gave her hand a squeeze. “Neither are you,” she whispered.
Melanie held her gaze. No, she wasn’t. And she was pleased to see that there was no pity there either. Desire, yes. That surprised her. She certainly wasn’t used to seeing that in someone’s eyes. But she took a step away and Erin dropped her hands. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. So, she would do what Erin asked her not to.
She would run and hide.
At least for tonight. At least until she could wrap her mind around what was happening…around what Erin was offering her.
Because right now—the fear was too much. But fear of what? What was she really afraid of?
She’d told Erin she’d been lost. And she had. Lost in grief, lost in booze, lost in the many, many pills she swallowed each day. She’d told her she’d moved out here to find herself again. That was the truth. But had she really found herself?
She’d pushed the guilt away…most days. She was clean and sober and healthy. Her mind was sharp, her feelings no longer raw. But who was she? Was she the woman who ambled along on her solitary walks, her mind focused on her surroundings so intently that old memories didn’t dare intrude? Was she the woman who spent hours and hours and hours in her garden, tending steadfastly to the vegetables in the guise of providing food? In reality, she knew it was simply a distraction—a mental and physical diversion—to keep her guilty memories buried deep where they belonged, lying dormant somewhere in that dark place where she hoped they’d stay. She could say her garden was therapy and she supposed it was. She’d healed. On the surface, she’d healed.
Underneath those layers she’d piled on, however, her scars were still inflamed, still painful. Still angry.
So what was she afraid of? Was she afraid that if she let Erin in, let her touch her, kiss her, make love to her…was she afraid those scars would open and bleed again? Or was she afraid that she wouldn’t freeze up this time? Was she afraid that she’d actually be able to be intimate with someone without Adam’s ghost scolding her from the corner of the room?
Was she afraid that if she made love with Erin, those scars might mend and heal? Then what would she have? Erin would leave. What would she have then? Those scars—as painful as they were—were like old friends. If she healed, if Erin took those scars with her…then what would she have?
She’d have her freedom, that’s what she’d have.
Free of guilt, free of pain. Free to live her life again.
But she’d be alone. Still. Nothing would have really changed.
She’d still be alone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Erin stood on the porch, cupping the steaming mug of coffee between her hands. It was barely after four, but she’d given up on sleep. She’d been tossing and turning most of the night, fearing how things would be between them now. She’d changed the dynamics—the kiss in the shed. But she didn’t feel responsible for last night. Not solely, anyway.
She was attracted to Melanie, that was obvious. She was cute, nice, pleasant. She was likeable. She was easy to be around. She was confident, sure of herself… Strong.
Yet she was vulnerable and uncertain. Afraid.
And no matter how much the look in Mel’s eyes made Erin want to wrap her up in her arms and protect her from all those thoughts that brought on her guilt and insecurities, she could do no such thing if Mel wouldn’t allow it. She wanted to do more than hold her and protect her, though. Didn’t she?
The kiss had been nice…out in the shed, it had been nice. It had been a very long time since she’d kissed someone for the simple pleasure of it. Her and Sarah’s first kiss had been heated, frantic, and they’d been naked five seconds after it. Since Sarah left, any kissing she did on dates was done with one thing in mind—getting them into bed.
She smiled a bit wryly as she took a sip of the hot coffee. Jessica had been the last date she’d been on. She stayed around a month or so. How long ago had that been? Like Joyce had suspected, she hadn’t even realized that Jessica was no longer there. What an ass she must have been. Even though she had no feelings for Jessica—truth was, she barely recalled the woman—she probably owed her an apology.
She leaned against the railing of the porch, her gaze going to the east where the sky was still dark. There was no sign of the impending sunrise, no sounds to indicate that a new day would be upon them soon. No sounds of the night either. Had the nighttime creatures already scurried off to their daytime hiding places? Were the owls still out hunting for their last meal of the night?
She tilted her head as she continued to stare out at nothing. It was a nice kiss—out in the shed. And last night? Nice, yes, but something more. More heated, more intimate. She’d sensed they were going too fast and she’d slowed things down. Why had Melanie been afraid of it then?
Well, it could be the fact that she hasn’t kissed anyone in seven or eight years. That timeframe nearly made her head spin. Could someone really go that long without any kind of physical contact? A hug? A pat on the back? Something? Had she had nothing?
It was too sad to think about, really. The person she had come to know was sweet and passionate and affectionate. She sipped from her coffee, thinking of the times Mel had t
ouched her arm, patted her shoulder… The times she’d seen her petting the twins or even a chicken. And the times she’d fondled old Fred’s ears when he happened to come around. Was that how she survived? Making contact with the animals since there was no human around?
“You’re up early.”
Erin nearly dropped her cup and she juggled it, sloshing what was left of the coffee onto her hands.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you out there.”
She heard the smile in Mel’s voice and she turned around, seeing her standing on the other side of the screen door. She was still in her sleep shirt, but her legs were covered by a pair of sweats.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Erin murmured. “You’re up rather early as well.”
“Yes.”
She said nothing else and Erin watched her go into the kitchen, presumably for her own cup of coffee. She let out a quick sigh, then went inside. Melanie was pouring a cup and she raised her eyebrows questioningly at her. Erin nodded and set her cup down beside Mel’s. She rinsed off her hands quickly, watching as Mel took both cups to the bar and sat down.
So, Mel wanted to talk. In this early morning hour, it was still black as night out…and Mel wanted to talk. With another—this time quiet—sigh, she joined her. She didn’t know where to start, though.
“I should…I should apologize.” That was always a good start, she thought. Apologize and get it over with.
“No. You don’t owe me an apology,” Melanie countered. “I owe you one, if anything.” She held the cup between both hands. “I’ve been sending you mixed signals.” Mel turned slightly, meeting her gaze. “I’m feeling a bit…out of sorts, I guess.”
She nodded. “I’ve disrupted your routine. Taken you out of your comfort zone.”
“Definitely.”
“I wish I could take it all back, Mel. I don’t want things to be strained between us. Uncomfortable. It’s my fault and I—”
“Erin, please don’t apologize.” She stared into her cup of coffee for a long moment. “I like you. And…I’m attracted to you.” She looked up then, meeting her gaze fully. “I haven’t been intimate with anyone—truly intimate—since Courtney, since the night Adam caught us.” She looked back into her cup of coffee. “The other attempts were—well, as I said, humiliating.”
