by Kim Baldwin
Erin was blessedly merciful. Her mouth continued to suck Gable’s nipple while her hand descended to bring her to fulfillment. Gable spread her legs and held her breath as Erin’s palm stole down her abdomen and across the triangle of hair—the caress firm, the intent clear.
Erin’s teeth nipped at Gable’s nipple roughly as her fingers slid across her clit and into the wet folds beyond. Gable cried out and pressed against Erin’s hand, feeling three fingers slide inside, filling her, turning her body into molten lava. An unrelenting pressure was building inside her, a yearning so intense it brought tears to her eyes.
Erin pumped into her with slow strokes, bringing her higher and higher, and then Erin’s thumb pressed hard against her clit and sent her reeling over the edge into oblivion. Her whole body spasmed and shook and her mind went hazy, and she collapsed back against the mattress, breathing hard.
“Golly,” she sighed, after a very long moment, and Erin laughed—a throaty chuckle of satisfaction.
“Guess I did okay for my first time, eh?” Erin settled against Gable’s side, resting her head in the crook of her shoulder and sliding her arm possessively across her stomach.
“Any better and you might have killed me.”
“I never imagined it could be like this. Never.” Erin’s fingers played along Gable’s hip, thigh, stomach. “I can’t stop touching you.”
A contented smile played across Gable’s lips. “I like the sound of that. But it might be a problem when we’re out in public. People might stare.”
Erin chuckled, and the sound vibrated against Gable’s chest. “If this is what it’s like with us…I’m beginning to wish I’d figured everything out a lot sooner.” Erin’s hand began to move with more deliberation, skimming over Gable’s breasts and down to the edge of her tangle of curls.
“You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?” Gable groaned as the heat began to build again between her thighs.
“I certainly do,” Erin said, pinching one of Gable’s nipples back to rigid attention. “You came over for dinner, and I’m helping you work up an appetite.”
*
Gable stifled yet another yawn and tried to focus on the paperwork in front of her. It was an impossible task. Her body bore the complete exhaustion of a weekend of nonstop lovemaking, and her mind could think of nothing but Erin.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Eleven thirty. They’d been apart less than four hours—she’d left Erin’s about eight so she could detour by her house to change clothes. It felt like an eternity. You are in such serious trouble here. But she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.
June Dunsmore, the sixtysomething cashier who tended to mother Gable, had noticed immediately that something was different.
“Someone had a nice weekend,” she commented when Gable showed up an uncharacteristic fifteen minutes late, with bags under her eyes and a jumbo Styrofoam cup of coffee from the gas station across the street.
Gable blushed a deep scarlet and took off past June toward the pharmacy counter in the rear.
“Aha! I knew it!” June’s voice trailed after her. “I want details!”
Fortunately, the place stayed busy all morning, keeping her from further interrogation. But Gable had been largely unable to focus on her work during the brief lulls between prescriptions.
She stretched and stood and stepped to the counter, intending to restock a display of informational brochures. But she had hardly begun the task when her hands stilled and her mind drifted, revisiting the myriad of times she and Erin had come together in the big sleigh bed. Her body warmed at the memories.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Erin’s voice, enticing and amused, from four feet away, abruptly brought her back to the present.
Gable blushed, but grinned broadly as she gazed into Erin’s eyes. She saw the same hungry look of desire she’d seen there all weekend. “This is torture.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Erin nodded her head with enthusiasm, grinning back at Gable.
“I thought you had training until five.”
“The chief had to end the morning session early to take care of some personal business. I’ve got almost an hour. Can you break for lunch?”
“Oh yeah.”
They walked two blocks to the Slice of Heaven café, a popular hangout known for its pie menu—thirty-five varieties baked fresh daily by the quartet of elderly sisters who owned the place.
Meriwether wasn’t very big, but the café was always crowded at lunchtime. People came from neighboring counties for one of the specialty pies they could get nowhere else…pies with names like Pennsylvania Dutch shoofly, and mocha java chocolate, and brandied peach custard.
Every table was occupied, and it looked as though everyone was either waiting for their food or had just gotten it. They wouldn’t be sitting down any time soon and there were no real alternatives within a short drive. They looked at other with resigned frowns.
“We might be able to get pie and coffee,” Gable apologized.
“I’m not really that hungry,” Erin said. “I just couldn’t wait until tonight to see you.”
“Gable? Want to sit with us?”
Gable and Erin both turned toward the voice. Two women in their thirties waved at them from a table in the near corner. One was an attractive blonde, the other a striking brunette with a vaguely familiar face.
Gable looked at Erin. “Well, we won’t be alone, but…what do you think? The one on the left—the blonde—is Emily Fairfield. She’s the librarian in town.”
Erin shrugged. “Sure. Fine with me.”
They headed over to the table.
“Thanks, Emily,” Gable said as she reached for one empty chair, while Erin took the other, across from her. “Erin Richards, meet Emily Fairfield.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Emily said.
“And you as well,” Erin responded. “Thanks for sharing your table.”
“This is Lindsey Carter,” Emily introduced her tall, attractive friend.
“Have we met?” Gable inquired.
“I thought you looked familiar too,” Erin said.
“I’m on TV,” Lindsey explained. “I’m a reporter with Channel 6 News in Traverse City.”
“Oh! Okay, right,” Gable said. “I’ve seen you. Nice to meet you.”
“Same here.”
The four women chatted amiably over lunch. Gable was a regular in the Meriwether library, and both she and Emily ate at the café at least three or four days a week, so they had chatted on occasion about their jobs, and gossip in town, and the latest novel that caught their interest.
Gable tried hard not to stare at Erin throughout the meal, but her eyes kept wandering over to her, lingering on her lips, drifting to her breasts. She caught Erin several times doing the same to her, and wondered how obvious they were being to their lunch companions.
“So…how do you two know each other?” Gable asked Emily and Lindsey as they dug into dessert.
Each of them had ordered a different type of pie. Emily chose mile-high lemon meringue, Lindsey went with rosy red rhubarb, Erin selected Grandma’s chocolate pecan and Gable opted for Montmorency cherry.
Both Lindsey and Emily froze at Gable’s question, their forks halfway to their mouths. The two women looked at each other; Emily smiled and Lindsey’s cheeks colored slightly.
“Well, Lindsey detoured into town last spring for pie." Emily said. "Remember the day we got that big rain and the bridge washed out?”
“I do!” Gable said. “I had to stay with June for a couple of days, I couldn’t get home.”
“Well, Lindsey got stranded here too. She stayed with me.” Emily turned toward Erin. “The library is that big white house down the street,” she explained. “I live upstairs.”
“We…uh…found we had a lot in common,” Lindsey stuttered, her blush deepening.
The light dawned, and for the first time, Gable began to think she just might have this gaydar thing, after all. “A lot in common, you s
ay?” she asked mischievously. “Erin and I have a lot in common too. I bet we all have something in common.”
The table was silent for a moment as her words sunk in.
“Really?” Lindsey looked much more comfortable all of a sudden.
“You don’t say,” Emily said.
“We do?” Erin asked with a puzzled expression, clearly not understanding.
“Mmm-hmm.” Gable nodded, looking at Erin. “You just joined the club a few days ago.”
“Oh!” Erin’s hand flew up to her cover her mouth. Now she blushed. She looked at Emily, then Lindsey, then back to Emily. “Well, whattya know. Small world.”
The others all laughed, and as they finished their pie, the four women made tentative plans to get together one night for poker, or a movie, or some other outing.
Gable and Erin had to hurry back to the pharmacy if Erin was to make it back to the fire hall in time.
“Well that was sure an eye-opening lunch. You know, I’ve chatted on and off with Emily for months now, and I never had a clue,” Gable said. “And I’ve even seen her sitting with Lindsey a few times.”
“How did you figure it out?” Erin asked.
“It was just something about the way they were looking at each other. Kind of like how you and I couldn’t keep our eyes off each other.”
“Do you know how much I want to reach out and take you, right here and right now?” Erin asked as they neared her pickup, parked at the curb in front of the drugstore.
“Hold that thought until tonight,” Gable answered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I miss you already,” Erin said, getting into her truck. She rolled down the window. “I’ve got it bad for you, Gable.”
Gable put her hand on the sill and Erin covered it with her own. “I’m glad to hear that. Me too, Erin. See you later.”
*
She thought about the evening the rest of the afternoon. And by the time she got to Erin’s place at 6:40, she could feel the moisture between her legs from her fevered anticipation.
Erin flung open the door as soon as she drove up, and bounded down the stairs and into her arms.
They kissed long and hard, pressing their bodies together, the heat between them scorching Gable, obliterating everything else. Erin’s body fit perfectly against hers.
“Oh God, you feel so good,” she murmured into Erin’s ear.
“Inside,” Erin answered breathlessly, tugging at her.
They stumbled into the house and to the bedroom, removing clothes as they went, kisses punctuating every other step.
The first time that night was frenzied and fast. After dinner they took their time.
*
Around midnight, Gable awoke, spooning Erin from behind, her hand cupped protectively over Erin’s breast. She didn’t move for a long minute, relishing the feel of her skin, the press of her body, the soft, reassuring sigh of her exhalations. How can I ever sleep alone again?
They had not discussed the future or their feelings for each other. It was too soon for that—Gable accepted that fact intellectually, and refrained from bringing it up. Erin had made it clear she had relationship and commitment issues, and Gable didn’t want to pressure her or scare her off.
But she already knew in her heart that there would be no one for her but Erin. She was so head-over-heels in love she couldn’t think straight, and she could no longer imagine living the solitary life she’d been content with for most of her adult life.
They certainly had passion and chemistry between them, there was no doubt of that. Erin had made it abundantly clear she couldn’t keep her hands off Gable any more than Gable could resist touching her when they were alone. But as wonderful as the sex was, Gable prayed that it was more than that with Erin. Much, much more.
Plagued by her insecurities about the future, she found it difficult to fall back asleep and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Erin. She put on Erin’s terrycloth bathrobe. It was a little small for her, but it smelled vaguely of Erin’s soap and shampoo, and Gable found it reassuring somehow. She went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea, then sat staring out the window at the stars.
Her life felt more out of her control than she’d ever imagined it could be. Just a few months ago, she had a clear and certain future, or so she thought. She’d reconciled herself to the notion that the soulmate thing was a fairy tale, and that she was meant to be alone. So she found satisfaction and meaning in her life by helping others.
But now Gable knew what profound joy there could be to every single day, when it was shared with someone you truly loved. She could never go back to her old life, her life without Erin.
Thank you for this gift, she prayed. May I be long worthy of it.
She returned to bed, but remained by the bedside for a moment, studying her lover’s face in the moonlight streaming in through the window.
I love you, Erin. With all my heart. Please love me too.
Chapter Fourteen
Sweat poured off Gable as she labored to widen the firebreak, turning over dirt at a furious pace. Her back ached and her hands were blistered despite her gloves, but it looked like they might succeed in containing the fire if the wind held off a while longer.
It was a cool October day and the twelve volunteer firefighters on Crew 23 had gravity on their side. They were below the fire on a steep hill in the Manistee National Forest. Although it was a densely wooded area, the trees were mostly virgin white pines, tall and straight, the nearest branches ten to twenty feet off the ground. With no wind to blow it up into the high canopy, the fire was confined to the forest floor and it advanced at a walk, feasting on pine needles and dry bracken ferns.
But the weather service was predicting that brisk winds would move in off Lake Michigan, so the firefighters kept a close watch on the treetops as they moved up the hill, cutting a five foot breach with shovels, pickaxes and chainsaws.
Gable also kept one eye on Erin, positioned twenty feet to her right. Despite her diminutive figure, she had proven to be a very capable firefighter in the weeks since her training, but today was pushing the limits of all of them. Gable could see that her lover was just as bone-tired as she was, and also as equally determined to continue on.
The fire had already consumed nearly 260 acres, and crews were working on all sides to bring it under control. It was the highest priority callout; Gable and Erin had both missed work to respond, and they were still at it seven hours later.
Crew 23 was the only thing standing between the blaze and a half dozen homes. They were cutting a firebreak from the creek at the bottom of the hill to the rocky ridge at the top, and were more than three quarters of the way up when the wind began to rise. It wasn’t much at first. The crew kept working.
The intermittent breeze quickly became a steady twenty-mile-an-hour blow, with gusts strong enough to send sparks and embers across the breach. The firefighters had their hands full trying to douse the spot fires springing up all around them. Their upward momentum ground to a halt.
Gable felt the heat of the fire increase as the wind sent the flames swirling up into the higher tree branches. She glanced to her right. A back draft sent a plume of smoke over Erin, momentarily obscuring her. Gable held her breath and gripped her shovel more tightly until she reappeared.
Their radios crackled to life. The voice, a shout, was Carl Buckman’s, who was working at the tail of the line, farther down the hill. “23 off the hill! Move! Move! Another fire below!”
Gable spun around. Three hundred feet down the slope, thick smoke was rising in a column from the forest. They were in deep trouble, trapped between two fires. She hesitated only until Erin reached her. They were already breathing hard as they sprinted diagonally up the hill toward safety.
The fire below them was everything the one above them was not. It sprang to life with a burst of hot energy, fanned by the wind into a blast furnace train that howled toward them with frightening acceleration.
“Dro
p your tools!” Carl yelled, and as Gable tossed her shovel she heard the clatter of several others directly behind her.
She didn’t turn around. She had to watch every step as they raced upward over the rocky, uneven terrain. Erin kept pace beside her, but was clearly struggling to match Gable’s long strides. No one spoke. The world turned red around them, reflecting the firestorm. Everything shimmered in the heat, miragelike. It was difficult to breathe.
The heat was so intense the grass beneath their feet burst into flames. Erin stumbled and fell. Gable paused to help her, and Carl was suddenly there too. They hauled Erin to her feet, one on either side of her, as several of the others sprinted by.
They were running for their lives.
The two fires came together behind them, joining up into a wall of flame that extended from the forest floor to the top of the trees. It was a blowout—every firefighter’s worst nightmare. The crackling roar of the inferno was deafening and embers rained down all around them, pelting their hard hats. The stench of burning hair assaulted Gable’s nostrils as the trio finally reached the crest of the hill and crossed into the sanctuary of a wide rocky ridge where the fire could not follow.
Like the others ahead of them, Gable and Erin collapsed once they were safely out of harm’s way on the other side. Erin lay on her back, her face a grimace of pain, her chest rising and falling in exaggerated gasps for air. Gable was likewise panting, on her hands and knees, struggling to calm the pounding of her heart.
“Are you all right?” she rasped.
Erin nodded, unable to speak.
They had made it, all of them, but with only feet to spare. Erin and Gable looked at each other with the shared realization of their narrow escape. Gable crawled the few feet that separated them and they embraced, both shaking in the rush of fear and adrenaline.
“Too close, that one,” Gable whispered. Her arms and legs felt leaden.
