No Ocean Deep

by Cate Swannell

  “I know,” she answered. “I’m heading home now anyway, so it can wait till then. Thanks, Roy.”

  “No worries. I’ll run you over to the marina.”

  Five minutes later Jo was walking back along the Cheswick Marine pier, heading for her car. She had deliberately avoided going in to the company’s office, knowing Doris, the office manager, would have a million little things for her to do before she disappeared for a few weeks.

  Not the most responsible attitude, Jo-Jo, she admitted. But her mood was foul enough to make her willing to be a little irresponsible.

  “Jo!” The tall skipper came to a halt, growling under her breath. “Jo, I need your signature on a few things before you go,” said Doris, leaning out of the small demountable that was Cheswick’s office. “Don’t you dare leave yet.”

  Jo’s head dropped.

  “All I want is shower, a beer and a cuddle. And not necessarily in that order,” she muttered, as she spun on her heel and headed back. “Is that too much to ask?”

  Cadie slammed the phone down. It had been Naomi, she knew. Not that her ex-partner ever said anything, but the cold, heavy silence on the other end of the line was very, very familiar. Several times a day since Monday’s conversation with the senator Cadie had answered the phone only to find a chilling presence and not much else.

  How the hell did she get the number here, Cadie thought, not for the first time. So far, the blonde hadn’t told Jo about the calls, preferring to have that conversation face to face. And changing the number isn’t going to help. She found this one, she’ll find the new one. Damn her.

  Cadie’s head lifted at the sound of car tires on gravel. Finally, she thought, a faint smile crossing her lips. Even the impending arrival of her lover wasn’t doing much to penetrate the headache now bordering on titanic, however. As the front door opened, revealing a tall, dark and very welcome figure, the phone rang again. Damn it, Naomi, not now.

  Cadie snatched the phone of the cradle, her temper finally snapping.

  “What the hell is it you want, Naomi?” she yelled into the mouthpiece.

  “Uh, Miss Jones, it’s John Jacobs,” came the hesitant reply.

  Cadie slapped her hand over her mouth in consternation.

  “God, I’m sorry John,” she said quickly. “I thought you were someone else.” She felt herself flush with embarrassment as she looked up at and caught stormy blue eyes looking at her. “Jo’s just walked in. Hang on; I’ll get her for you.”

  Naomi’s been calling here? Why the hell didn’t she tell me? Jo took the phone from Cadie, trying not to let her irritation show. “Hello, John,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  Cadie covered her eyes with her palms, feeling the heat from her blush. Damn it. Damn you Naomi. She rubbed her face distractedly and moved into the kitchen, deciding to make a start on dinner while Jo talked with her attorney. The blonde started to put a salad together, forcefully dicing a couple of tomatoes, taking out some of her frustration.

  It wasn’t long before she heard Jo saying goodbye to John. The tall skipper walked towards her and placed her hands on top of the counter casually.

  “Naomi’s been calling, huh?” she asked gruffly.

  “And hello to you too,” Cadie said testily. She tossed the quartered tomatoes into the salad bowl and reached for the small lettuce she’d pulled out of the fridge. “I don’t know for sure if it’s her,” she conceded. “A few times a day since Monday I’ve picked it up but there’s just been silence.”

  “And you think it’s been her?” Jo asked, her frayed temper just about worn through. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Well, who else would it be, Jo?” Cadie retorted, chopping the lettuce viciously, an action not lost on her partner.

  “Given my history? I can think of about 20 people off-hand,” said Jo sarcastically.

  “And I didn’t tell you because you were in the middle of the ocean and could do precisely nothing about it. Believe it or not, I thought you might appreciate not being bugged by something like that.” Slice, dice, hack.

  Jo watched the massacre of the salad continue. What’s got her so fired up? she wondered. She looks like she’s had as bad a week as I have.

  “Um, I was thinking we might go out for dinner,” she suggested tentatively.

  Cadie groaned and dropped the knife onto the chopping board. More money she’d be spending on me. Part of her knew she was making more of it than she should, but her foul mood was in full swing now.

  “I’d really rather not,” she replied.

  Jo rubbed her eyes tiredly.

  “I just don’t have the energy to cook tonight,” she muttered, wishing Cadie would quit arguing so they could just get on with it.

  “I’ll cook, all right?” Cadie retorted, exasperated with the conversation. “Believe it or not I think I probably can throw together one meal.”

  Jo put her hands on her hips and glared at her partner.

  “I never suggested you couldn’t, Cadie,” she said. “I just thought it might be easier for both of us if we went out.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be easier for me.”

  “Fine.” I’ve had enough of this conversation, the skipper thought. She backed away, hands up palm outwards in a surrendering gesture. “You do what you like, okay? I’m going to get a shower.”

  For the first time Cadie noticed the grimy blue bandanna wrapped around Jo’s knuckles.

  “What did you do to your hand?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” Jo replied bluntly. She turned away and stalked into the main bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Cadie picked the knife up again, jamming the point into the wooden chopping board and resting her hand on the hilt.

  “Well, that’s just great, Arcadia. Well done,” she muttered to herself. “She’s your one ally on this side of the planet, you love her to death, and you just treated her like a kicking post.” She sighed.

  Jo stood under the hot water. She leaned forward, forearm against the shower wall, forehead resting on her arm, eyes closed. She hadn’t even bothered to strip off the makeshift bandage on her hand and now the deep graze was stinging like a son of a bitch.

  What the hell are you doing? she berated herself. Don’t you dare take out your bad mood on her, damn it. She doesn’t deserve that. No matter how foul her mood may be. She pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose. And you can just take that half-insecure, half-jealous thought about Naomi and shove it somewhere deep and dark, Jossandra. Clearly she doesn’t want to hear from the senator. That’s got to be part of her bad mood. So just can it, will ya?

  The water felt so good against her skin. Jo let the heat begin to bleed away her tension, feeling the muscles in her back unwind. She started when she heard the bathroom door ease open. A glance over revealed a blonde head and a pair of sheepish green eyes.

  “Can I come in?” Cadie asked quietly.

  Jo nodded.

  “Of course,” she replied. “You don’t have to ask.”

  “Well, you don’t usually shut the door, so I figured you wanted some privacy. And I don’t blame you frankly,” Cadie said as she eased inside and sat down on the toilet lid.

  For a while they were both silent. Cadie stared at her feet miserably and Jo started to soap herself up.

  “I’m sorry Jo-Jo,” Cadie said finally. She breathed in the steamy atmosphere of the bathroom. She wished she could rewind the last half hour or so and start again.

  “I’m sorry too, sweetheart,” Jo replied. She finished rinsing the shampoo from her long hair and stepped out of the glass cubicle. Without waiting for her to dry off, Cadie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the tall, wet woman. Grinning, Jo reciprocated, pulling the blonde close. “You’re gonna be soaked, darling.”

  “Don’t care,” Cadie muttered, relishing the solid, damp warmth she pressed against. “Can we start again please?” She lifted her head and looked up into watery blue eyes.

  “T
hat would be wonderful,” Jo agreed, placing a kiss on her lover’s forehead.

  “Let me look at that hand?” Cadie asked, pulling Jo towards the sink. The taller woman sat down on the edge of the bathtub and held out the offended appendage. Cadie eased the wet bandana off and winced at the sight of the ugly gouges on the backs of Jo’s knuckles. “You’ve been battling engine parts again, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah. Damn wrench slipped,” Jo mumbled. She watched as Cadie opened the bathroom’s medicine cabinet behind the mirror and extracted a bottle of mercurochrome and some cotton buds. “This is gonna hurt, huh?”

  “It’s probably gonna sting some, yeah. Sorry love,” Cadie said quietly, dipping a cotton bud into the bottle. Carefully she began dabbing the yellow antiseptic onto each wound, making sure she got every piece of dirt and grease out. Typically Jo sat stoically still, not even the glimmer of a wince touching her face. Cadie glanced up at her. “You’re being very brave.”

  “Weellllllllll,” Jo drawled. “I wouldn’t want to go against my image as a big, bad, tough girl, now would I?” At that moment Cadie hit a particularly raw spot and she flinched. “Ow.”

  Cadie chuckled.

  “Tough girl, huh?" she teased. “Well, hold still just a bit longer, Tough Girl, and we’ll have you all fixed up.”

  Jo looked at the blonde affectionately, knowing they still had some talking to do.

  “Can I ask you something?” she asked quietly. A blonde eyebrow lifted in affirmation. “Are you really too tired to go out to dinner tonight, or is there some other reason you don’t want to go.”

  Cadie’s hands stilled momentarily before resuming their cleaning task. She sighed.

  “I’m having a bit of trouble with the whole money situation,” she said quietly, not meeting Jo’s somewhat surprised gaze.

  “Tell me.”

  Cadie dropped the cotton bud into the small rubbish bin under the sink and sat back down on the toilet lid. She clasped her hands in front of her as she leaned her elbows on her thighs. Jo watched a range of emotions cross the face she loved. She reached for a towel and began drying herself while Cadie thought about her response.

  “Before I started the agency I never thought about money and the power it has,” the blonde mused. “I had a trust fund that I could access once I’d graduated college and Naomi was in much the same boat. Plus she was earning good money. While I was working as part of her campaign team, we just lived on what she was making. If there was anything else I wanted, I used the trust fund.”

  Jo listened as she finished toweling off. She walked to the door and unhooked the bathrobe hanging on the hook, sliding into its warm softness. Then she crouched down in front of Cadie and cupped her hands around the blonde’s.

  “I used the rest of the trust to start the agency,” Cadie continued. “And then, when the business started to bring in money, I discovered something really neat.” She looked up into inquisitive blue eyes. “I liked having my own financial independence.” Jo nodded and smiled. “And not just because of the extra cash either. For the first time I felt like I could look Naomi in the eye. As an equal.” She focused on Jo’s long fingers which were chafing against hers gently. “That sounds pretty pathetic doesn’t it?” she whispered. “Needing money to feel like an equal.”

  Jo bent down and kissed Cadie’s thumbs softly.

  “We all have our crutches, sweetheart,” she answered. “That certain something that gives us self-confidence, or at least the appearance of self-confidence, until we can find it in ourselves.” She lowered her eyes. “With me it was a gun.” She swallowed then found Cadie’s eyes again. “Took me a long time to figure out I could be just who I wanted to be without that little friend strapped to my hip.”

  Cadie looked at her soberly.

  “Talk about perspective,” she said wryly. “Here am I worried about a few dollars.”

  Jo shook her head and squeezed the blonde’s hands.

  “No. Don’t do that. Don’t minimize what you’re feeling, okay? You can’t access your money and having me pay for everything is pushing your buttons, right?”

  Cadie nodded.

  “I keep telling myself it’s only temporary. I keep telling myself you can afford it and that you don’t mind.” She met Jo’s grin with one of her own. “Okay, that you actually quite enjoy it,” she conceded. “But even when I tell myself those things, somehow the whole concept just puts me back in a place I don’t want to be. And it scares me.”

  Jo thought about that for a bit.

  “Okay. I understand that. But the bottom line is there’s not too much we can do about it now except do our best to get through the next few weeks.”

  Cadie nodded.

  “I know. I’ll figure my way around it, honest.” She smiled softly at her lover. “And talking about it has helped.”

  “Good.” Jo patted her knee and pushed herself upright, pulling Cadie up with her. “So, apart from money, troublesome authors and Senator Stalker, is there anything else I can actually help with?”

  Cadie stood on tiptoe and kissed Jo lightly.

  “You helped sweetheart. You help just by being here. Now, tell me about your bad mood.”

  Jo shrugged.

  “Seasick Germans, noisy engine, sore knuckles,” she said succinctly. “And I hate being away from you.” Cadie burrowed against her, her face buried in the warmth of the robe.

  “I do know that feeling,” came the muffled reply from somewhere between her breasts. Then a pair of sparkling green eyes looked up at her. “I’m glad you’re home, Jo-Jo.”

  “I’m glad to be home,” Jo whispered. She dropped a gentle kiss into the blonde hair. “I’ve got an idea,” she said a few moments later. “How about we cook dinner together?”

  A brilliant grin greeted that suggestion.

  “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all week,” Cadie said.

  Jo leaned back against the soft leather of the sofa and sipped at her glass of red wine. The evening, thankfully, had been delightfully peaceful. They had talked a lot more, smoothing over the rough edges of what had essentially been their first argument. Dinner had segued into a warmly sensual session of cuddling and kissing interspersed with a lot of gentle laughter. Jo swept her long, black hair back from her face and lifted her feet up onto the coffee table. Cadie had disappeared into the bedroom momentarily, leaving the skipper to her own thoughts.

  Mmmmmm. I’m so glad we worked our way through that. She took another sip, swirling the warm, fruity liquid around in her mouth before swallowing. I was worried. I don’t like not being on the same wavelength with her.

  Cadie walked back into the room, carrying something behind her back. Jo stifled a grin.

  “Jo?” The blonde came to a halt on the other side of the coffee table.

  “Yeeeeeeeessss?”

  “You know how Wednesday was your birthday, but because we were both having such busy, crappy weeks, you decided we’d just forget about it?”

  “Mhmmmm.”

  “And you know how I agreed with you?”

  “Mhmmmm.”

  Cadie stepped around the table and sat down next to her lover. Slowly she brought her hands around and handed Jo a long, thin package.

  “I lied.”

  Jo’s face was a picture. Cadie smiled at the childlike glee that shone out of the older woman as she gingerly took the package from her.

  “Y’know, you weren’t supposed to do this,” Jo admonished.

  Cadie shrugged.

  “I know. And I know we’ve just had a whole argument based around money, but, um …” She was disconcerted to find herself blushing. “Well, I still had a little of the prize money that we won during Hamilton Island Race Week, so I thought I would spend it on my favorite girl.”

  Jo raised an elegant brow at that, even as she started plucking at the corners of the wrapping paper. She could count the number of birthdays she had celebrated after she left home on the fingers of one hand. Most of her friends here
in the islands didn’t even know when it was. And apart from a few phone calls from her parents over the last five years, she really had never marked the day. Somehow, this is a lot different. Jo carefully lifted the corners of the paper, painstakingly peeling back the scotch tape.

  “You haven’t done a lot of this, have you?” Cadie asked quietly, suddenly putting together what she knew about Jo’s past and the grin of delight on her partner’s face.

  Jo looked up as she slid a finger along the longest edge of the paper.

  “No,” she said quietly. “Not since I was pretty small.” Finally, she slid the grey velvet jewelry case out of the paper and eased it open. “Oh, Cadie,” she breathed. Delicately she picked up the fine gold chain. Hanging from it was a small filigreed locket. “Sweetheart, it’s beautiful.”

  Cadie beamed.

  “I didn’t put anything in it,” she said, showing Jo how to open it. “I thought you could choose the photo you wanted.”

  Jo leaned across and placed a gentle kiss on the blonde’s cheek.

  “Thank you, darling,” she whispered. “I know just which picture I’m going to put in there.” She nuzzled Cadie’s neck.

  “Mmmmmm.” Cadie tilted her head, giving her lover more access, totally unable to say no to the languid sensuality washing over her. “Which one?” she murmured.

  “Which one what?” Jo replied as she nibbled the soft skin so close.

  Cadie giggled.

  “Photograph, Jo-Jo, photograph.” She grinned as Jo pulled back.

  “The one Frank took of you at the wedding,” the dark-haired woman said softly.

  “Ah. You liked that one.”

  “Mhmmmm.” For long seconds they gazed at each other, blue eyes and green sparking off each other. Jo held the locket up. “Help me put this on?”

  Cadie took the chain and reached behind Jo’s neck, manipulating the clasp until it closed securely. The locket hung perfectly, nestled at the base of Jo’s throat. She nodded in satisfaction.

  “It suits your coloring,” she said.

  “It’s gorgeous, Arcadia. Just like you.”

  Cadie quirked an eyebrow at the singular expression on Jo’s face. I think I like what’s on her mind, she thought, tingling at the prospect.