by Karis Walsh
Brooke appeared out of the kitchen, smiling shyly at Andy, who couldn’t hide her own welcoming grin. “Something smells great,” she said.
“It’s paella,” Brooke answered. “Vegetarian, of course.”
Andy went into her music room to put away her teaching supplies and to take a moment to catch her breath. Don’t get used to it, she warned herself. Don’t get used to coming home to warmth and thoughtfulness and her. The sight of Brooke stirred her insides more than the appetizing smell stirred her empty stomach. But Andy knew the familiarity and comfort of Brooke’s old life would soon call her back, and she needed to keep her distance so she could survive being alone again.
“Whoa,” Andy said when she entered the small kitchen.
Brooke followed Andy’s eyes as they swept over the counters. “Okay, I know I made a bit of a mess, but don’t worry. I’ll clean up after dinner.”
Brooke’s bit of a mess apparently included every pot and pan that Andy owned. “No,” she said, swallowing her desire to immediately start cleaning. “You cooked, so I’ll do the dishes.” She peered into a pan that was coated with cooked rice. “Although it may take me all night.”
Brooke swatted her with a towel. “It’s not that bad. Now come eat.”
They sat at the small dining room table, and Andy dished up the paella while Brooke opened the Spanish wine she had bought to go with the meal.
“God, that’s amazing,” Andy sighed, closing her eyes in rapture as she chewed her first bite. “Where’d you get the recipe?”
“I just tried to copy a dish that we...that I had in a restaurant once. I added tarragon, which is different from what I had there, but I like it.”
“Well, it’s worth every hour I’ll be in there scrubbing pans.”
Brooke rolled her eyes and took a sip of her red wine. “Now ask me what else I did today,” she said.
“What else did you do today?” Andy asked obediently.
Brooke pulled up the leg of her jeans and showed Andy her ankle. It was slightly puffy and red, but the small tattoo was clearly visible.
“A tiger,” Andy said, lifting Brooke’s bare foot onto her lap so she could see it better. “I love it. What made you pick this design?”
“It was my nickname when I was little,” Brooke confessed. “My dad used to call me his little tiger because I was strong willed and used to fight to get my way.” Her voice softened and she dropped her gaze. “I don’t really know when I changed, but I want to be that person again.”
Andy brushed her thumb gently over the tattoo, still holding Brooke’s foot in her lap. “I’ve seen plenty of tiger in you,” she said.
“Really?” asked Brooke with a smile.
“Yes,” Andy laughed, finally letting Brooke’s foot go. “And I’m glad you think that’s a compliment.”
“Do you have one? A tattoo?” Brooke asked, taking another gulp of wine to hide the shiver that ran over her when Andy touched her sensitive skin. She fought the urge to crawl into Andy’s lap where her foot had been cradled just moments ago.
“You don’t remember?” Andy asked with a suggestive grin. Brooke swept her gaze over Andy as she tried to picture a tattoo somewhere on her body. Her mind easily conjured up clear images of Andy naked, and she hoped Andy would attribute her sudden flush to wine and spicy food.
Andy let her off the hook and turned in her chair, pulling her T-shirt up enough to reveal her lower back.
“Ooh,” Brooke gasped a little. “How sexy!”
She ran her hands across the small viola that was etched along Andy’s lower spine, flanked by two ribbons of music. Brooke was more mesmerized by the heat of Andy’s skin than the tattoo itself, and she pulled her hands away abruptly. This physical attraction she felt would only make it harder for her to resist Andy’s influence, her strength. She struggled to keep her voice steady. “Are the notes from a real song?”
“Mozart,” Andy said, dropping her shirt and turning back to her food. “The first measures of ‘Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.’ I’m sad you forgot it so quickly.”
“Stop teasing. I didn’t see the back of you that night, and you know it,” Brooke said, her thoughts turning to her one night in Andy’s arms. Andy cleared her throat, letting Brooke know her thoughts were there as well. “I’m not ready for anything that elaborate yet,” she said, twisting her ankle so she could admire it. “But I love my tiny tiger.”
Andy reached out a hand and covered Brooke’s. “It’s meaningful and subtle. It’s exactly right for you.”
“By the way, do you realize you’ve broken rules three and five? You touched me, and you brought up sex.”
Andy glanced behind her at the dirty kitchen. “Well, I know what my punishment is going to be. And by the time I’m finished I won’t have the strength left to break rule number one.”
Chapter Ten
Andy came out of the shower the next morning to find Brooke huddled on the sofa bed with her cell phone cradled to her ear. Jake, Andy thought. Damn.
They had ended up doing dishes together the evening before, talking about how much Brooke disliked her job at the firm and laughing about her childhood ambitions of driving an ice cream truck or being a ballerina. They had been careful to avoid any physical contact with each other. Andy knew she wanted to protect her own feelings in case Brooke left, and to give Brooke time to adjust to this new life. She could only guess at the reasons behind Brooke’s reluctance to touch her. Maybe she didn’t want to encourage a relationship? Or had she realized her attraction to Andy had only been a way to escape a life of dependence? Andy preferred to think Brooke might be feeling the same way she was, and that any touch between them could ignite a passion they weren’t yet ready for.
But the thought of Brooke leaving made her realize that although she wasn’t ready now, she wanted the option to stay open. She wanted Brooke around, whether they were having sex or just becoming friends. Andy went into her music room, but she didn’t immediately take out her viola, hoping Brooke would come talk to her after the phone call.
She had been learning a lot about this woman who had been a stranger, a client, to her only a week ago. Andy was starting to recognize that the cool, unemotional exterior that Brooke usually maintained was just a thin, protective shell around a warm, funny, perceptive woman. Most people only saw a distant, unreadable woman, like Andy had at first. But the occasional glimpses of sadness, humor, and stubborn determination were becoming more frequent as Brooke became more comfortable just being herself. And Andy had a growing desire to help Brooke. Not to dictate her life like others had, but to help her find work that filled her eyes with passion, to be there as she confronted the deep sadness that she carefully hid from the world, and to be in her arms as she explored the sexuality she had been denying so long. Careful, Andy cautioned herself, someone might get the mistaken impression that you’re falling in love.
Brooke tapped lightly on the open door, startling Andy out of her reverie. “That was Jake,” she said with all the emotion of someone announcing the couch was lumpy or it was time for dinner. Andy wasn’t fooled by her apparent lack of emotion, but she was too afraid to ask if Brooke was leaving, so she remained silent.
“He’s staying with a friend in Oregon since he already had the week off,” Brooke continued. “I need to go to our place for more clothes, and I wanted to let him know. And to make sure he’s okay.”
Brooke’s voice shook slightly, and she didn’t resist when Andy pulled her into her arms. Brooke leaned into the hug, needing this woman’s strength more than she cared to admit. The call had left her devastated. Jake had every reason to be furious with her, and she had been prepared for yelling and recriminations. Instead he had just sounded so sad and confused that she felt racked with guilt. She had strung him along for years, and she hated herself for hurting him in the search for her own happiness. But Jan had been right. She had wounded Jake by leaving, but how much worse if she subjected him to a lifetime in an unhappy marriage?
“Will you come with me?” Brooke asked, her voice muffled against Andy’s shoulder. “I know it’s your practice time…”
“That can wait,” Andy assured her. “Of course I’ll come.”
*
Brooke directed Andy to the high-rise apartment she shared with Jake. She hesitated by the open door as if reluctant to enter, so Andy gave her a slight push and closed the door behind them.
“How about a tour?” she asked, hoping to give Brooke a little time to reorient herself before they started packing. Brooke led her into the apartment that was easily twice the size of Andy’s, and took her first to the large picture window in the living room. The view of Lake Union was spectacular, and Andy watched a seaplane land on the choppy water before she turned and slowly surveyed the room again.
“You live here?” she asked.
“Of course,” Brooke said. “I thought you knew Jake and I were living together.”
“I did,” Andy hesitated before she tried to explain. “It just doesn’t look like your place.”
Brooke studied the living room. “Jake lived here before I moved in, so he had already decorated. I guess I didn’t really add much.”
Andy nodded, but she had meant more than simple home décor. In just a few days, Brooke had filled her apartment with a presence that invaded every room, not just the ones that were covered with her clutter. There were photos of Brooke and Jake scattered around this room but no feeling that she belonged here.
Brooke moved on to the kitchen. It was decorated with black granite and fixtures, and had a modern, unused feel to it. She looked around, as if seeing everything for the first time. “We don’t cook much here,” she said, running a hand along the bare countertop. “We mostly use the microwave, or we eat out with clients or other lawyers from the firm. Jake likes to socialize, and he thinks it’s good for his career.”
“But you like to cook,” Andy said, remembering her delicious dinner from the night before.
Brooke shrugged. “I haven’t done much since I was a child. Jan and I would bake cookies and things in the common room of our dorm, but my family has always eaten out a lot. Last night was for you.”
Andy met her gaze and was about to move toward her when Brooke’s attention was caught by something behind her. “That,” she pointed, “is coming with us.”
Andy laughed when she saw the fancy espresso machine tucked in the corner, under a cabinet. “I knew you didn’t like my coffee.”
“I was trying to be polite, but it’s horrible.”
“So you’re being polite when you drink it and make that face?” Andy laughed.
“That’s the best I can do in the morning. I’ll start making you soy lattes with this baby, and you’ll never go back.” Brooke walked past her, bumping her with a shoulder and giving the espresso machine a pat as she left the kitchen. Andy smiled and followed, happy to feel Brooke’s tension easing.
“This is one of the bathrooms, here’s the guest bedroom, and Jake’s den.” Brooke moved down the hall, pointing out the rooms while Andy continued to look for any sign of her touch.
“And this is the master bedroom and bathroom,” Brooke said when they entered the large room that was decorated in shades of gold and brown. It was beautiful, torn from the pages of a magazine, but not what Andy had expected from Brooke’s home. She realized it was because everything matched. She could picture Brooke dragging home a flea-market lamp or an ugly, but comfy, sofa, but not this elegant furniture that had obviously come as a set. She peered in the bathroom and finally saw some signs of Brooke’s existence. She shut the door and stood in front of it with her arms crossed.
Brooke laughed at her expression. “I only have my vacation things at your place,” she said, gesturing at the door behind Andy. “I’m going to bring most of that with me today, so deal with it.”
“You can’t fit any more crap into my bathroom,” Andy growled, refusing to move as a laughing Brooke tried to push her out of the way. She grabbed Brooke’s arms and spun them both around so she had Brooke pinned against the bathroom door. “So deal with that.”
Brooke made a soft sound in her throat and snaked her arms around Andy’s neck. Andy dropped her head and nuzzled Brooke’s shoulder and hair. “You smell so good as it is,” she murmured. “You couldn’t possibly need more stuff to wash with.”
Brooke threaded her hands through Andy’s hair and pulled her face up so their lips met. Their kiss held all of the emotions from the stressful past week, and it deepened quickly. Brooke pushed against Andy again, and this time she let herself be moved backward until they collapsed together on the king-sized bed. Andy’s hands slid under Brooke’s T-shirt to touch her breasts, rubbing the lace of her bra over sensitive nipples and making her gasp in pleasure.
“Do you have good memories in this bed?” Andy asked, her breath hot against Brooke’s ear.
Brooke shook her head, blond hair trailing over Andy’s face. “Not really,” she admitted. “But I wouldn’t mind making a few right now.”
Andy flipped Brooke onto her back and slid her hand down between Brooke’s thighs. She groaned when she felt a surge of warmth, knowing how wet Brooke would be to her touch. She was eagerly undoing the top button on her jeans, all of her resolutions to take things slow fading away, when they heard the front door open.
“Brooke? Are you here?” a male voice called.
“Shit!” Brooke hissed as they jumped off the bed. She tucked her shirt in and buttoned her jeans while Andy hastily straightened the bed covers.
“Is it Jake?” Andy asked, raking a hand through Brooke’s tousled hair. Brooke shook her head.
“My parents were going to water the plants while we were gone. Damn, Jake must have called them,” she whispered then raised her voice. “I’m in the bedroom, Daddy. Be right out.”
“Maybe I should just tell them?” she asked, throwing an agonized look at Andy. They had started for the living room when Evelyn and Bill Stanton appeared in the bedroom doorway.
“Jake told us you’d be at the apartment, Brooke darling,” her mother said, her eyes sliding over Andy and dismissing her. “He wanted us to come over and make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, Mom. I just needed to get a few things.”
Andy watched as Brooke’s dad took in their untidy state and the lack of any sign of packing going on in the bedroom. His eyes locked with hers, and she knew not to underestimate him and his ability to interpret the situation. Every ounce of her wanted to move in front of Brooke like a shield and protect her, but she worried any indication of a relationship between her and his daughter would only make him angrier. She had to find a way to get Brooke out of this apartment.
“Let’s take this into the living room,” Bill growled. Evelyn seemed surprised at her husband’s controlled anger as he glared at Andy.
“You’re the woman from the quartet,” she said slowly, finally placing Andy. “You came to the dressing room before the rehearsal, and…”
Her voice trailed away as she looked from Andy to her daughter. “Oh, Brooke, not this again!”
Brooke opened her mouth to speak, but Andy held up a hand to stop her. Just get her out of here, her mind yelled. Don’t let her say things she’ll regret, things that will make her father even angrier. “Brooke and I are just friends, Mrs. Stanton. She’s staying with me while she figures things out.”
Brooke’s eyes met hers, her hurt expression quickly changing to a neutral one. “She’s right, Mom. There’s nothing between us.” She turned back to face her parents, leaving Andy reeling as she felt Brooke’s withdrawal from her like a physical thing. “Nothing.”
Bill looked unconvinced, but Evelyn seemed all too happy to accept Brooke’s statement. “Then there’s no reason to stay away from Jake any longer, is there? We can drive you down to Oregon to see him. A little vacation will do you both good.”
“No, Mom,” Brooke said firmly. “I need time to think. Jake and I decided to separate until Christmas, an
d I’m taking that time.”
“This is ridiculous,” Bill said dismissively. “You’re acting like a spoiled brat. If he did something to make you mad, you deal with it at home, not with some…stranger.”
“I need my space,” Brooke frowned.
“Then we’ll get you a place,” Evelyn offered. “Maybe in Bellevue or Tacoma. You and Jake can date while you work things out. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
“No,” Brooke shouted, startling all of them. “I don’t want you supporting me, and I do not want to date Jake. I just need time to think.”
“But it’s fine for her to support you,” Bill said in a clipped voice, waving his hand toward Andy, who winced slightly at the gesture.
“Andy’s neutral,” Brooke said, stepping forward and putting her hand on her dad’s arm. “So I can be more objective at her place and figure out what I really want. I know you understand that since it’s how you deal with difficult clients.”
Andy didn’t see how she was in any way neutral in this situation, but Brooke’s words had their desired effect on her dad, and he covered her hand briefly with his own. Andy felt the tension in the room ease. “I didn’t think you ever listened when I talked about business strategies,” he said with a flicker of a smile. “It’s not fair to throw that back at me.”
Brooke shrugged, a small answering smile playing over her face. “I have to talk so you’ll understand me.”
Evelyn looked at her husband and daughter with some confusion. “So you’re not going to make her come home?”
“She’s an adult,” he said to his wife with a resigned sigh. “I can’t make her do anything.”
“But we can’t just leave her with…her,” Evelyn looked at Andy with obvious distaste. Andy wasn’t insulted by that. The potential danger of Bill Stanton’s anger seemed to be gone, and all she felt was a sagging sense of relief.
