Too Close to Touch

by Georgia Beers

  Kylie squinted at her. “Why’s she calling now?”

  “She probably just wants to see how things are going. She might have heard through the grapevine that upper management was happy with our budget revisions. She might just want to say hi.” Gretchen’s eyes glinted and a light bulb went on in Kylie’s head.

  “She’s your ex!”

  “Not exactly.”

  “You’ve slept with her, though.”

  “There was a time or two. We’ve…kept in touch.” Kylie felt the unfamiliar tingle of jealousy well up in her gut and didn’t like it. Deciding another subject change was in order, she asked, “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

  “Greece.”

  “Wow. You answered that fast.”

  Gretchen smiled. “I’ve just always wanted to go there.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “Who has time?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You work twenty-four hours a day. I forgot.” Kylie grinned. “That’s why God made vacations, Gretch.”

  “I know. I know. You’re right.” Gretchen dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “One of these days.”

  “Why Greece?”

  “I’ve always been fascinated by Greek mythology. I’d love to see all the places that show up in the stories, you know? Everything there is so old, so mystical.”

  “Plus, the food is great.”

  “You like Greek food?”

  “Love it.”

  “There’s a new little place near my apartment. I hear the baklava is to die for. We’ll have to try that next time.” Kylie sipped her wine. “I’d like that.”

  They were silent for several long seconds. Kylie wondered if Gretchen was thinking the same thing she was: had they just made a date? Gretchen finally spoke, asking, “So, what do you think of this place?”

  “I thought my opinion didn’t matter to you,” Kylie responded wryly.

  Gretchen’s cheeks colored a light pink. She bit her lower lip, as if accepting this fate. “You know what? I was a little harsh when I said that to you. Unnecessarily so. I’m sorry about that.” Kylie was genuinely taken aback. She’d been teasing, yes, but she hadn’t expected an apology. “Hey, you were doing your job. You felt I was out of line. I get that.”

  “Still. I apologize for hurting your feelings.”

  “Then I accept your apology,” Kylie said, touched. “Thank you.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin and sat back in her chair. “Wow. That was good.”

  Gretchen sat forward, her forearms on the table. She looked more at ease than Kylie had seen her since they’d met. “I’m having a terrific time.” She said it quietly, as though letting Kylie in on a secret.

  Kylie was inordinately pleased with the remark. “Me, too.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to be my date for the evening.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for asking me.”

  They eyed each other. Without letting go of Kylie’s gaze, Gretchen waved for the waiter and said, “I’m going to order dessert. Want to share?”

  For some reason the invitation sounded deliciously intimate. Kylie blamed the wine. “The chocolate raspberry torte looked good.” A few minutes later, the waiter dropped off an elegant-looking plate and two forks, setting the dessert knowingly right in the center of the table. He poured two cups of coffee and left them to their chocolate.

  “Holy crap,” Kylie said, eyeing the dessert. It was a thick triangle of rich, dark chocolate drizzled with a deep red raspberry sauce, and just looking at it made her feel guilty. “It’s too pretty to eat.”

  “Nonsense.” Gretchen picked up a fork, sliced off the tip, rubbed it through the raspberry sauce, and held it up over the table. “You first.”

  Kylie’s heart skipped a beat before she leaned forward and took the forkful of decadence into her mouth. Gretchen’s lips parted slightly in tandem with hers and she watched closely as the fork came out clean.

  It was an alarmingly sexy gesture that caused a spark low in Kylie’s belly.

  “Oh, my God.” She snatched up the other fork as the chocolate melted on her tongue. “Oh, my God, that’s good. Sinful. Christ.” She chewed slowly, wanting to enjoy the taste for as long as possible.

  Hardly daring to believe they were complicit in this sensuous eating experience, she sank the fork into the torte, then held a mouthful up.

  “Your turn.”

  Gretchen’s eyes grew impossibly darker, and the pangs Kylie kept feeling merged to a constant ache as Gretchen took the bite of dessert. Eyes closed, moaning softly, she held the fork in her mouth as if she couldn’t bear to release it. Kylie watched in aroused fascination, worried she might choke on her own excitement as she slowly eased the fork from between Gretchen’s lips. She could not believe how much of a turn-on it was to feed her.

  “You’re right.” Gretchen opened her eyes and refocused on Kylie.

  “Absolutely sinful. Good Lord.”

  “Told you.”

  “Good choice.” Gretchen used her fork to cut herself another bite.

  Kylie was relieved they were now using their own forks, not certain she could survive another minute of feeding Gretchen without bursting into flames. Convinced her arousal had to be written all over her face, she dragged her eyes away from her date and lowered her head a little, trying to concentrate on the food. She didn’t have a lot of luck.

  * * *

  The night air was wonderfully pleasant—not too warm, not too cool, as they sat in Gretchen’s car in Kylie’s driveway, both reluctant to say good night.

  “I had a really nice time tonight, Gretchen.” Kylie smiled warmly, and Gretchen noted how the twilight cast a bluish shadow across her face, highlighting her exquisite cheekbones.

  “Me, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure.”

  Their eyes held and it would have been the most natural thing in the world for Gretchen to lean over and kiss Kylie softly on those full lips. It had taken every ounce of strength she could find to keep from doing just that and she was pretty sure Kylie had known it, that Kylie felt it. When the moment had passed, when it was obvious that Gretchen wasn’t going to kiss her, Kylie’s sweet, open face held an expression that was the perfect blend of disappointment and relief.

  Letting herself out of the car, she bent to make eye contact with Gretchen once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sleep well, Kylie.”

  Gretchen watched until she was sure Kylie was safely into her house before releasing the breath she’d been holding. Then she drove home like a bat out of hell. Once she reached the lot of her building, she slammed the car into park and stared off into space for a long time, reliving the evening in her head and wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now.

  “Fuck,” she muttered as she slowly dropped her forehead against the steering wheel over and over and over.

  * * *

  Back in her little house, Kylie shot the door bolt with more force than usual and marched into her living room. She flopped down onto her couch, flat on her back. She was almost used to the feeling of missing Rip, who would have jumped up to be near her. Kicking her flats onto the floor, she blew out a frustrated breath, took one of the striped throw pillows and held it over her face, then screamed as loudly as she could.

  “I cannot have a thing for her,” she said to the ceiling fan. “I can’t. She’s my boss. God damn it.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It was after ten when Kylie heard the garage door open and her sister pull in. She stuck the bookmark into the Lisa Gardner novel she’d been reading and stretched her arms over her head, kicking the remaining throw pillow off the couch as she did so.

  The side door opened just as she was clicking off the Law & Order rerun she’d had on for company.

  “Hey, Ky.” Erin breezed in and set her purse down on the kitchen table. She was a taller, thinner version of Kylie. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “No probl
em.” Kylie didn’t mind at all. She was happy to give her big sister a much-deserved break.

  With three children and a full-time job, Erin didn’t get much time to herself. True, her choice of outing was just a Tupperware party, but it was probably populated with women just like her who desperately needed a night away from their houses and families. With both Erin’s teenagers away at friends’ houses and her husband out of town on business for the week, she had just needed somebody to take care of four-year-old Becky, and Kylie was more than willing.

  “She was good?”

  “Always.” Kylie loved spending time with her youngest niece.

  “Uh-huh. For you, maybe.” Erin’s voice was skeptical, but she softened it with a smile. “What did you do?” She plopped down on the chair, her reddish blond hair escaping its clip little by little in rebellious wisps.

  Kylie sat up. “Oh, let’s see. We had lots of fun. First, we painted with the watercolors. Then we made ice cream out of Play-Doh. Then we played hide-and-seek. Then we played that memory board game — she kicked my ass, by the way.” Erin chuckled and nodded knowingly.

  “Then came the male strippers.”

  “And a female one for Aunt Kylie?”

  “Three, as a matter of fact. I taught Becky how to put dollar bills in their g-strings in the proper manner.”

  “I’m sure that’s a skill she’ll find useful.”

  “You know it.”

  “And she went to bed okay?”

  “We read Goodnight, Moon four times, but that’s all. She was tucked in and snoozing by eight thirty.”

  “Excellent. Thanks a bunch.”

  “How was the party? Did you actually find any Tupperware that you don’t already have?” Erin’s extensive collection of Tupperware was a source of humor for the entire family.

  “Surprisingly, yes. A spatula. So there.” Erin faked a pout before heading back into the kitchen. “I know it’s late, but can you hang a little longer? Have a Coke with me or something? It’s caffeine-free. I feel like I didn’t get to visit with you much at the Memorial Day thing.” It was late and Kylie was tired, but she felt the same way. She and Erin hadn’t always been close; with only three years between them, they used to shriek at one another when they were teenagers—pull hair, scratch, and bite. But as they grew up, and especially after Erin had had children, they’d become the best of friends and loved to spend time together. Erin was the first family member to whom Kylie had come out.

  “Sure,” Kylie said. “I can stay for a little while longer.” Erin poured the soda into two glasses with ice and brought one to Kylie in the living room. Dropping back into the recliner, she folded her long legs beneath her and sighed. “So, what’s new, baby sis?”

  “Not a lot, really. I’ve got to get my butt moving on my flowers. I’m a little behind in my planting. The front of my house looks bare. Otherwise, just working.”

  “Yeah, how’s that going? The new boss must be working out. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet her at Mom and Dad’s.”

  “Gretchen. She’s terrific.”

  “Mom said she was very nice.”

  “She’s amazing.” Kylie felt pleased that her mother had mentioned Gretchen. “She’s whipping the salespeople into shape and really cleaning things up around the office. Upper management loves her.”

  “How ’bout you? Is she easy to work for?”

  “Very. We had a little bit of a heated conversation early on, but we got past it. She even took me to dinner last night to thank me for all my hard work, which was so cool. I mean, Jim was great, but he never treated me like Gretchen does. She’s funny and smart and strong and attractive. I like her. I really like her.” Kylie stopped abruptly and sipped her Coke, aware that her eyes were darting around the room instead of meeting Erin’s.

  “Ky?” Erin cocked her head. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s going on.” Kylie squirmed. Hiding anything from Erin was next to impossible.

  “You do like her, don’t you?”

  “What? No. No, of course not. Don’t be silly. She’s my boss.” Kylie sounded much less convincing than she’d hoped, and she knew Erin had busted her. “Damn it.”

  “I may not have talked with her, but I did see her. She’s beautiful.”

  “And gay.”

  “You’re kidding.” Erin blinked in disbelief. “Shit, Kylie.”

  “Can you believe my luck? I finally meet somebody that I think could have potential and I can’t date her.” It was the first time she’d spoken the words out loud since realizing them after their playful dinner the previous night. She wanted to date Gretchen. It was a simple fact. She admitted it to herself, and despite the futility of the situation, she felt the tiniest bit better. The workday had been great. She and Gretchen had talked about having dinner again.

  They’d been happy, smiling, even bordering on flirty. Gretchen would invariably reel it in and return to being professional long before Kylie ever thought about doing so.

  Not surprisingly, there was no mention of chocolate raspberry torte, though Kylie was sure she’d never look at the dessert the same way again. The truth was, they’d both had quite a bit of wine. Kylie liked to fall back on that reasoning when she recalled sitting in Gretchen’s car with her…the night quiet and darkening, the undeniable arousal permeating the air. She was still somewhat shocked that Gretchen hadn’t kissed her, but it was probably for the best. After all, she was Gretchen’s subordinate. Gretchen was her boss. Their pairing would be frowned upon strongly at Emerson and they both knew it. If only… Kylie didn’t want to think ahead, think about what could be if the situation was different.

  “Does she feel the same way?” Erin asked.

  Kylie colored with embarrassment. “I don’t know. We have fun. She’s kind of hard to read and she isn’t exactly…warm and fuzzy. At least not at work.”

  “So…this is just a physical thing for you, then?”

  “No. No, I don’t think so. I mean, she’s warmer and fuzzier with me than with anybody else. Other people think she’s cold. I don’t see her like that.”

  “What does Mick have to say about all this?” Kylie pursed her lips. “I can’t talk to her about Gretchen. Mick hates her.”

  “Why?”

  “Long story.”

  “So, Mick thinks she’s cold, too.”

  No, Mick thinks she’s a lying, conniving bitch. She almost said it aloud, but caught herself. “Yeah.”

  “Well, baby sis, it seems to me that you don’t have a lot of options here. A, you don’t even know that Gretchen is interested in you that way, and B, she’s your boss. Unless you plan on looking for a new job—which I sincerely hope you don’t because you’ve got a lot of time into Emerson—you need to just keep it in your pants, so to speak, and go on with your life. Right?”

  Kylie sighed. “Yeah.” She knew Erin was right, had expected Erin to say exactly what she’d said. She just didn’t want to hear it and she certainly didn’t want to accept it.

  “Come on, Kylie.” Erin sat forward, her voice and eyes gentle.

  “You know yourself as well as I do and you tend to jump in with both feet. Without testing the water first. You fall hard and fast and you always have. You need to put a stop to this train of thought now, before you end up getting yourself hurt. Okay?”

  Kylie nodded, feeling disheartened. “Okay.”

  * * *

  The phone call from Sarah Stevenson was exactly the kind of thing Gretchen needed to get her mind back on work. She was not the kind of person who normally let anything, let alone a sexual fantasy, sidetrack her, but one look at Kylie in that royal blue dress that fell just above her knees and she’d been on a fast train to Smutville. She’d spent all day Wednesday and much of Thursday morning recalling her dinner with Kylie, how much she’d enjoyed their time together, and remembering how much she’d wanted to kiss her that night. She wasn’t used to such distraction and it was starting to irritate her.

&n
bsp; Hanging up from her conversation with Sarah, she buzzed Kylie at her desk. “Call every one of our local sales reps and see if the guys in Buffalo and Syracuse can be here late this afternoon. If they can’t, it’s okay. I know it’s last minute and they may be busy, but Sarah just closed her deal. We’re having a celebration.” Out the office window, she could see Kylie’s head snap around.

  In seconds, she was in the doorway, an enormous grin plastered across her face. “She did it?”

  “She did it.”

  “God, Gretchen, that’s…that’s huge.”

  “It is. She’s on her way here. Would you book her a room at the Marriott? She’ll need to stay over so we can go through her paperwork thoroughly before the weekend.” Gretchen sat back in her leather chair, hands clasped behind her head, enjoying the view in the doorway. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to tell Wheeler.” Kylie folded her arms and leaned against the door frame, basking in the scrutiny. “Rumor has it she’s actually in her office this morning. I’d say in person is best.”

  “I think you’re right.” Gretchen sprang up and crossed the office.

  As Kylie moved to let her by, their bodies brushed.

  “Gretchen.” Kylie stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  Gretchen tried not to notice the heat burning through her sleeve, but her skin seemed unreasonably sensitive.

  “Congratulations. You’re really making a difference around here.” Kylie’s voice was soft and genuine, but her gaze was steady and penetrating.

  Gretchen swallowed as she felt consumed by blue. Murmuring vague thanks, she escaped to the elevator and rode up to the sixth floor, lost in her own thoughts, her hand absently rubbing her arm where Kylie had grasped her. As the elevator door dinged its arrival at her destination, she shook herself out of her reverie and forced her focus to the office at the end of the hall.

  Margo Wheeler was the vice president of sales for all of Emerson, nationwide. She was a smart, tough woman who hadn’t made it this high up without a lot of effort and a lot of sacrifice. Her third marriage was dissolving rapidly. She had no children, much to her sometimes obvious dismay, and at fifty-five, never would. She did, however, have three West Highland White Terriers that she loved with all her heart.