by Advocate
"Ow!" RJ rubbed the back of her head, glancing up sheepishly at Leigh, who didn’t even try to smother her chuckles. "Very funny. And my would no doubt try to wash my mouth out with soap, if you have a burning need to know." The brunette grinned as she continued to rub the back of her head. Now this was a lovely surprise. Despite the near-continuous teasing she’d endured after coming back to the picnic covered in mud, she found herself thinking of Leigh often. Maybe even missing her. But still, it was due to Leigh that she was putting up with two and a half tons of shit. She wanted a little revenge. "But hello to you, sexy. What brings you back this way?" RJ took a few steps into the corner of the room and bent down to retrieve the spring.
"Shower." Leigh jiggled the backpack that contained her shower supplies and a clean change of clothes. "Pete said I could use it again. I had dinner at the diner." She took a step closer to RJ. Stepping in out of the shadows, she smiled. "I was hoping you’d be there."
"My night off." She gestured to her truck. "I thought I’d give Carol a tune up. Her carburetor needed to be adjusted. She’s not purring just right."
"Carol?" Leigh peered at the charcoal-black bucket of rust. Typhoid Mary would be a better name.
RJ fetched the screwdriver and quickly attached the spring. "Yeah, Carol." She spoke with her head in the engine. "My grandmother named her Carol after the actress Carol Lombard. Me grandmother had a thing for short blondes too." She glanced up at Leigh and winked, surprised that in the dim light she could see a faint blush working its way up Leigh’s neck.
"So this was your grandmother’s truck?" Interested, Leigh joined RJ under the hood to see what she was doing. "And I’m not that short."
RJ snorted as she made the adjustment to the carburetor. "Five foot three and no more, or I’m not RJ Fitzgerald." Her eyes dared Leigh to disagree. But by the narrowing of Leigh’s baby blues, RJ knew she couldn’t. "And this was my Grandmother’s truck. Saved for three long years and bought it brand-spanking new before she went overseas in ’42." She wiped her hands on a rag. "And you are short, but you’re cute too. So that’s bound to count for something."
"Thanks." Leigh smiled wryly. "I think." Leigh retrieved a wrench RJ was eyeing. "So why keep something so ..." She gestured vaguely. "So–"
RJ glared at her.
"– antique?" Leigh finished quickly.
RJ was quiet for so long that Leigh worried she’d hit another sore spot. She was about to change the subject when RJ’s quiet voice breached the silence in the garage. "Because," the tall woman paused, "it’s all I have ... of hers anyway. It’s … well, it’s sort of sad story, lass." RJ glanced at Leigh, feeling unsure of what to say, but more in the mood to talk than she’d been in quite some time. "It’s probably nothing you’d want to hear about."
Leigh laid her hand on RJ’s forearm and gently squeezed. "You’re wrong," she said solemnly. She could feel the warmth of RJ’s skin through the gray overalls she wore and was momentarily distracted. She licked her lips. "I’d like to hear."
RJ nodded slowly as she finished removing the last spark plug. "All right." Another few moments and the plugs were replaced.
Leigh let her backpack slide to the floor as RJ clicked off the light above the workbench, casting it in gentle shadows.
RJ straightened to her full height and used her arms to hoist herself onto the bench, her long legs dangling freely over its edge. She patted the spot next to her so Leigh could join her.
With a boldness that surprised even Leigh, she didn’t join RJ on the workbench. Instead, she moved in front of RJ, standing so close that RJ had to spread her legs to accommodate Leigh’s body. The blonde woman’s hips brushed against RJ’s calves, then inner thighs as she came to rest nearly flush against the bench. She placed both palms flat against RJ’s thighs and looked up into her eyes.
The unexpected closeness seemed so intimate, so intense, that it was arousing and disconcerting at the same time. RJ sucked in a surprised breath.
A slow smile edged its way onto Leigh’s face, and she patted one of the thighs beneath her hand. "Go ahead."
RJ tentatively returned Leigh’s smile. "My Grandmother, for whom I’m named, by the way," she paused, "she delivered planes from base to base in the South Pacific. Where she was killed." Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Nothing like starting at the end of a tale! RJ looked away from Leigh.
With one hand, Leigh cupped RJ’s chin and gently guided the brunette’s attention back to her. For reasons Leigh didn’t understand, what was supposed to be an interesting story about RJ’s truck now seemed very important. To both women. "I never knew any of my grandparents," Leigh uttered quietly, hoping to put RJ at ease. She ran her thumb along RJ’s jaw before removing her hand. "So it’s nice that you at least have something from her. I didn’t know women actually flew. I figured back then they were all nurses and secretaries and stuff like that."
"Well, most were. But there were a few who flew. They didn’t fly fighter planes in combat, but they were how many of the planes got to their final destination. Especially near the end of the war, when every available male pilot was attached to a fighter squadron in some way. Women also flew cargo planes, even in the most dangerous fronts. My grandmother was shot down by the Japanese during a mission to deliver a bomber."
"I’m sorry."
RJ’s smile was bittersweet. "Well, it’s not hardly your fault, now is it? Besides, it was a lifetime ago and certainly nothing to be brooding over now. At least not by me."
"So I guess you don’t know what happened exactly. Just that she was shot down?"
"No. I know more of the tale from me mother. Two Japanese fighter planes took off one of her wings when she was about a minute away from her landing point." RJ made a twirling motion with her finger. "The plane spun in circles and dropped like a stone into the Pacific Ocean. She broke both her arms and cracked open her head on impact, but was alive."
Leigh’s eyes went a little wide.
"‘Course she was trapped in the plane, which instantly filled with water." RJ cocked her head to the side, green eyes luminous in the dim light fluttering closed. "It’s not hard to imagine the burn of the salty water if you try."
"I …" Leigh wasn’t sure what to say. Her heart began to beat a little bit faster. "I don’t think I want to imagine that."
RJ opened her eyes. "Me neither." Oddly, she smiled. "Anyway Grandmother’s co-pilot and navigator, a chubby, red-haired crop duster from Iowa, fished her out from under the water when she was already about twenty feet down."
Leigh tried not to think about what it would be like to be buckled into a sinking plane, unable to move your arms to free yourself.
"The co-pilot got them both out and held onto my grandmother until they were rescued about an hour later." RJ shrugged. "I never knew her, of course. I just inherited the truck. My mother has always told me the stories, which were told to her by her grandmother, who looked after her after her mother was killed."
"Sounds like you’ve got something to be proud of, though."
RJ frowned. "Didn’t you hear the story? She didn’t deliver the plane. She was shot down."
Leigh blinked. "I heard the story. She died serving her country."
"I suppose," RJ allowed. "Folks say she was a brave women. Some of the folks in Glory knew her back then." She looked away again. "But I’m not so convinced she was all that brave. She wasn’t much older than I am now. And I think that maybe, just maybe, there was a big part of her that was scared, especially when she knew her plane was going to crash and there was nothing she could do to stop it." RJ’s eyes seemed to glaze. She’d told the story so many times she knew it by heart, could feel what it was really like. "Crashing into the ocean. Knowing you can’t get out. Being trapped, feeling the water dragging you under. Breathing it in and choking. Knowing you failed in your mission and watching the world go black all around you."
RJ stopped and realized she had gotten completely away from Leigh. "I’m sorry." She smiled weakly. "Yeah, I’ve
got something to be proud of."
Leigh had paled a little at RJ’s vivid description. "You’re quite a storyteller, RJ Fitzgerald."
RJ snorted a little. "So I’ve been told. Maybe I’m a wasting my time in Glory and ought to head out to Hollywood, eh?"
"Maybe," Leigh whispered, feeling slightly ill.
"So what did you have for dinner? Shrimp?" RJ grinned, trying to lighten the mood. She certainly hadn’t meant to cast such a dour mood over Leigh’s visit.
"Umm ..." Leigh blinked in confusion. Is the story over? I guess so. Leigh vowed she’d never say another word about RJ’s truck again. She couldn’t believe RJ was even talking to her now. "Soup," she said absently, completely missing the darker woman’s barb. "That’s what I had for dinner."
"Hmm, yeah, Mavis makes the soup here. It’s some of the best." RJ clicked on the light above her head, causing Leigh to shield her eyes and squint. Leigh backed away and RJ pushed herself off the tabletop. She reached under the hood and clicked off that light. "How long can you stay?"
Leigh shook her head a little, pushing RJ’s gloomy story far from her mind. "The truck’s parked alongside the garage. I’m here until morning."
"I’m finished here." RJ lowered the hood, letting it slam shut." She scratched her face, then wiped her hands on a rag. "Can I buy you a beer?" RJ gestured to a beat-up old fridge in the corner with her chin. "Then maybe we can take a walk." She wiggled her eyebrows. "I know how much you like to take walks with me and it’s a beautiful night tonight. Stars all twinkling and happy." Like me with you.
"Absolutely." Leigh grinned, then began to laugh softly. "Here." She took the rag out of RJ’s hands and folded it in half. "You have a grease mustache." Without waiting for permission, she gently wiped RJ’s lip and cheek.
RJ patiently allowed the fussing. "If you don’t stop that, Leigh Matthews, you just might get kissed."
"In that case …" Leigh leaned over and wiped the other side of RJ’s mouth, raising her eyebrows she waited.
RJ shook her head. What the hell was she getting into? She lifted her palms to Leigh’s face and drew her close, kissing her soundly. It was gentle, but passionate and went on for several minutes before RJ finally pulled back and whispered through labored breaths, "I warned you."
"Warn me again." Leigh whispered, a warm sensation starting in her belly and radiating outward.
"Count on it." RJ stepped back and unzipped the front of her overalls, exposing her street clothes. "Ready for that walk?"
Leigh nodded. "Sure." She grasped RJ’s hand and dropped her backpack in front of the bathroom as they walked past it.
RJ opened the door, and the sweet evening breeze instantly enveloped her. Gone was the scent of oil and car grease, replaced instead with the scent of the prairie and french fries from Fitz’s. RJ drew in a deep breath. "Heavenly, don’t you think?"
Leigh laughed, and tucked a stray strand of pale hair behind her ear. "Yeah," she breathed quietly, glancing around. "It’s not bad."
Flea trotted up to the woman as they began a slow walk.
Leigh’s grip on RJ’s hand tightened.
RJ’s eyes slid sideways. "What’s wrong?"
"That cat is weird."
RJ burst out laughing. "I couldn’t agree more. Flea is one of a kind."
Flea narrowed her eyes. Humans were a real pain in her ass sometimes. In one jump she was up on RJ’s shoulder, where she gave RJ a playful smack to the head. Well, sort of playful.
Leigh let go of RJ’s hand and backed away further. The thought of a cat on her shoulder named ‘Flea’ made her itch all over.
As if reading her thoughts, Flea hissed at the shorter woman.
"Be nice," RJ scolded mildly. "For all she knows it’s true." She addressed Leigh honestly. "It’s just a name. Flea doesn’t really have fleas. I promise."
A single slender blonde eyebrow inched upward. "You’re sure?"
"Would I hold her if she did?"
"If you would, that’s as close as you’re getting to me." She pointedly gazed at the distance between them.
Flea began nibbling RJ’s hair as though there was something in there.
Leigh’s jaw dropped.
"Thanks a lot, cat!" RJ pushed the feline from her shoulders. "Leigh –"
The trucker held up both her palms and tried her best not to smile. "Stay right where you are."
Ignoring her, RJ stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Leigh."
Leigh’s eyebrows sprang up at the deep timbre of RJ’s voice. Instinctively, she began to move forward toward the voice. Oooo… Wait. Fleas. She stopped. "Sorry, RJ. But that sexy voice won’t work on me." Okay, it will. But you don’t get to know that.
Sexy? RJ smirked inwardly and took another step forward. "Leigh." In the same voice.
Leigh closed her eyes for a second, then shook her head quickly. "Nope." She turned on her heels and bolted across the park area behind the diner, disappearing into the waning light.
"Shit." RJ shot Flea a dirty look before chasing after her.
Flea watched the women in amusement as two voices raised in laughter drifted back to her on the gentle spring wind. They were playing cat and mouse.
And humans wondered why cats acted superior.
* * *
They had walked and talked, trading slow kisses in the moonlight for what had to be close to two hours. Leigh was having a wonderful time and not a single fiber of her being wanted it to be over yet.
By the time they made their way back to the garage, the diner parking lot only had a few cars in it and Leigh could see Mavis serving coffee to one or two stragglers who, apparently, weren’t anxious to get back on the road. Been there, done that, she thought sympathetically.
RJ pushed open the garage door but didn’t turn on a light. Their eyes had adjusted to the starlight outside and the shadowy interior of the garage posed no problems. The windows allowed a good dose of moonlight to spill into the large room.
Leigh took the lead, wordlessly tugging RJ’s hand, pulling the woman toward the bathroom that held the shower.
The tall woman smiled and the smoldering burn that had been driving her to distraction all night burst into flame with the realization of where she was being invited.
"Are you taking me someplace where naughty things happen, Leigh Matthews?" RJ asked, her face split into a huge grin.
Leigh stopped walking and turned around to face RJ, allowing their gazes to lock and the look on her face to speak for itself.
RJ’s heart began to beat double time. She had never seen a look of such pure, unashamed lust shining in a woman’s eyes.
Leigh began walking again. "Depends on what you mean by ‘naughty,’ RJ," she whispered softly. "I mean, it’s not like I’ve got enough whipped cream to cover you in it and lick it off or anything."
Sweet Jesus. RJ felt her knees go weak. She vowed at that very moment to check her jacket and make sure she had her keys for the diner, because when Pete and Mavis left she would be visiting the icebox to find the stuff Pete put on the top of the pies. RJ figured there was only one thing sweeter, and it was already leading her to the shower.
Leigh turned around and began walking backwards through the garage so quiet she could hear every breath RJ took. The tip of her tongue appeared, and she wet her lips very slowly.
RJ groaned out loud. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Leigh’s mouth. "Ohhhh, yeah …" rumbled from her chest. "You and naughty … intimately acquainted, I remember."
The smaller woman simply hooked her pinky around RJ’s and continued to tug her into the small room. "Would you like me to show you just how intimately?" Leigh asked as they came to a halt just inside the bathroom. Her right hand worked its way slowly up the front of RJ’s shirt, while her left hand closed the bathroom door and threw the bolt. As the metal bar slid into place, Leigh’s thumb barely passed over RJ’s painfully hard nipple.
RJ bit her lower lip and whimpered. She leaned toward the touch that disappeared all
too quickly. She wanted — needed — this so badly that she felt tears well in her eyes. Her lips were dry from her breathing, now coming in short pants. She quickly wet them.
A warm, firm body pressed up against RJ, pinning her to the cool tile wall. Her chin was nudged upward as soft lips began a gentle exploration of throat. "I want you so bad, I can barely stand it," Leigh whispered roughly, as her tongue and lips continued to caress and brand.
RJ’s eyes fluttered shut when Leigh’s hot tongue found, then slid over her jugular vein, applying pressure in a sensitive spot that earned the trucker a long, languid moan. She could feel the tickle of Leigh’s breath along the hypersensitive damp skin just claimed by the questing tongue. It sent shivers up and down RJ’s spine, and she fought the urge to turn the tables and push Leigh up against the wall. To take her where she stood. But the thought was whisked away by Leigh’s insistent movement.
Small but determined hands unbuttoned RJ’s shirt, and before she knew it they pushing it off broad shoulders, allowing the night air to brush against heated skin. Leigh grazed RJ’s muscular bare back with her nails, driving the auburn-haired woman to distraction. "You’re so damn beautiful," Leigh growled into RJ’s ear, continuing to nip and kiss, unable to stop her hips from moving forward and making solid contact with the body she was enjoying.
Leigh moaned long and low as she felt RJ’s hands slide under her shirt and brush across her belly and ribs.
"You’re not so bad yourself," the tall woman offered, lowering her head to drop a trail of tiny kisses from Leigh’s chin to her ear and down her neck.
The blonde woman drew in a ragged breath, content to let RJ take the lead for the moment. In fact, her body insisted. "We," a deep breath, "are really," a low moan, "bad for each other." Her last words were slightly muffled as her shirt was pulled over her head. How the hell did that happen? Do I care?
"Uh huh," RJ whispered, giving her head a tiny nod. "I barely know you."
"And I barely know you."
"Does that bother you?" RJ cupped Leigh’s breasts, smiling at the gasp that rewarded her.
Intense, sky blue eyes shone like liquid silver in the near darkness. "Do I look bothered?" Leigh growled. Threading the fingers of one hand into RJ’s thick hair, she pulled her into a heart-stopping kiss, the trucker’s tongue plunging deeply into RJ’s mouth. Both women moaned out their approval at the move as they feasted on each other’s mouths.
