by Radclyffe
“Starting a new life, I suppose,” Sarah said. “I ended a bad relationship in Texas.” She paused a moment and took in a deep breath. “And then I threw some things in my car and left.”
“Wow. Just like that, huh? With nothing at the other end and you just showed up here? That’s brave.”
“Not that brave, I’m afraid. I already had a job lined up.”
Caitlin laughed. “Well, still, it must have been difficult to leave everything behind.”
Sarah took in Caitlin’s face. The glow of the lights that lit the nearby palm trees illuminated her skin. A genuine warmth permeated Caitlin’s words and Sarah felt it in her chest.
“It was hard, yes. But I’m glad I’m here.”
“I’m glad you’re here, too.” Caitlin lifted her can to Sarah’s and they clinked them together. “You’ll like these apartments. Everyone here is pretty cool.”
She’s glad I’m here, too! Sarah savored the unexpected rush of pleasure for a second before asking, “How long have you lived here?”
“Almost five years. I work in Hollywood, just over the hill. I’m a financial advisor for a bank.”
“So you’re good with money?”
“Luckily, I take my own advice. I’m saving to purchase my first house in two more years.”
“That’s great, Caitlin.”
“Well, the work is easy and I’m home by five o’clock every day, so I can’t complain.” Caitlin liked Sarah’s energy. She was charming and personable and very easy to talk to. So many of the women she’d dated were caught up in themselves or their careers or who they knew. And Sarah was refreshingly not like that at all.
They easily fell into discussions of family and work, and Caitlin shared what she knew about the best places to eat in North Hollywood.
Their beer cans long empty, Caitlin motioned to the party. “I’ve been dominating your time tonight. I don’t want to hog the newest guest.”
“No.” Sarah knew she’d responded a little too quickly. “This is nice. Right here.”
Caitlin grinned and then scanned the crowd. “You’ll eventually meet most of these women at some point. They either live here or are always visiting.”
“I’m in no hurry. Besides, I’m batting a thousand right now.”
“Batting a thousand?”
“My friends back home warned me about California. They said that as soon as I got here I needed to be careful because”—she counted on her fingers—“I’d be forced to smoke pot, I’d be called Tex, and I’d be teased about my accent.” She smiled. “But so far with you, none of those have come true.”
“I imagine that must have been nerve-wracking to think that those things could happen. I must say that I don’t smoke pot, you certainly don’t look like a Tex to me, and I think your accent’s pretty cute, actually.”
Sarah relaxed, feeling her tension drain away, owing it all to Caitlin. “Maybe it’s the two beers I’ve had or maybe it’s the great company. But you’re easy to talk to.”
“Thanks. So are you.”
Well past midnight the party had dwindled down, and Sarah and Caitlin were helping Judy and Shayna gather up the discarded paper plates and empty cans. The last of the partygoers were jingling car keys and waving good-bye.
“We can handle the rest of the cleanup,” Shayna told Caitlin and Sarah. “You two go relax somewhere.”
“Come on,” Caitlin said. “There’s a patio table with our name on it.”
*
“…so there I was, carrying my fifth crate of CDs out to my car,” Sarah recounted as she and Caitlin sat close enough that their knees touched. “Those CDs filled up more of my car than the rest of my belongings combined! But I was thinking to hell with her. And then I thought, ah crap! My ex has the CD player.”
“Well, look at it this way,” Caitlin said, “maybe you don’t have anything to play them on yet, but those CDs come in handy as a substitute for a lot of household items. They can serve as mouse pads, drink coasters, soap holders, Frisbees…”
“You must think I’m nuts.”
Caitlin placed her hand lightly on Sarah’s knee. “You were in the middle of a bad breakup. Those CDs were important to you. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
Sarah was growing more attracted to Caitlin and her sincere compassion by the minute.
“Plus,” Caitlin added, “I’ve taken stranger things.”
“Oh really? Tell me.”
Caitlin looked enchanting as she stared out over the deep end of the pool. “Once, I took six boxes of vacuum bags without taking the vacuum.”
“You did?” Sarah said, fascinated.
“But the strangest…”
When Caitlin paused, Sarah urged her on. “Go ahead, say it. I won’t laugh.”
“Once I was so pissed, I took a bicycle built for two.”
Sarah’s eyes grew wide and Caitlin started to laugh.
“Go ahead,” Caitlin said. “I laugh every time I think of it!”
And they did as Sarah added, “I don’t know what’s more amazing, that you took the bicycle built for two or that you actually bought one!”
Caitlin wiped the tears from her eyes as the laughter died down. “Aren’t divorces a pain?”
“I could live without them.”
In the silence that followed, Sarah could tell that Caitlin was studying her. And it felt remarkably comfortable.
Then Caitlin spoke in a hushed but serious tone. “Those CDs are important to you.”
“It was the principle.”
“And the hurt.”
“That, too.” Looking down, Sarah said quietly, “They’re great CDs. I’d painstakingly collected and catalogued them. It’s good music. Romantic music. I suppose they were my pride and joy. My ex told me to leave the collection as I’d have no use for it without the stereo. And without a girlfriend to play them with.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, that hurt.”
Caitlin rocked her knees back and forth, nudging Sarah’s. “Don’t ever let her or anyone else ever convince you what is or isn’t valuable to you. She didn’t appreciate you or what mattered to you. But you know what matters.”
Suddenly, Sarah wanted to hug her. She was overwhelmed that this beautiful woman understood her, understood what she needed, so quickly and so easily. Caitlin was so close now, Sarah caught wisps of the sweetness from the beer she’d been drinking. The rippling reflections cast by the underwater pool light danced across Caitlin’s face.
For a few seconds while they looked into each other’s eyes, there seemed no need for words. Sarah smiled at Caitlin, who smiled back.
When Sarah eventually looked away, she scanned the garden and announced, “Geez! Everyone’s gone.”
“It’s Sunday night. There’s work to go to tomorrow.”
Sarah glanced at her watch. “Or today, actually.”
“Wow, it’s pretty dark.” Caitlin’s voice hummed low and sexy. “I can barely see you.”
Taking a chance, Sarah hesitated slightly before moving closer to Caitlin. “Is that better?”
“Yes.” Caitlin paused a moment. “You know, you may be scared about this whole new life you’ve started, but it doesn’t show.”
Sarah looked down, swirling the last of her beer in its can. “Spending time with you has helped a lot. You’ve helped me to feel less nervous.”
Caitlin’s voice grew soft and gentle. “Nervous about what?”
“This big bad city they call L.A.” Sarah looked back up to the warmth of Caitlin’s eyes. Her heart faltered an instant.
“Believe it or not, you help me to feel less nervous, too,” Caitlin said.
“How so?”
“It isn’t often I meet an attractive and delightful woman. So tonight, I should be pretty nervous sitting here with that incredible combination.”
“Not that incredible…”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Caitlin said, covering Sarah’s hand in hers.
&n
bsp; The touch happened so quickly, Sarah couldn’t tell whether the jolt she felt was the excitement of Caitlin reaching out to her or the disappointment that it didn’t last.
Unsettled and unsure, Sarah finally said, “I’d better get upstairs.”
Caitlin nodded and stood when Sarah did. “Thank you for this evening.”
*
Sarah stomped around her living room, frustrated with herself. She should have stayed and talked to Caitlin more. Unlike her ex, there were people who were actually nice. And more than that. Caitlin had sparked attraction in Sarah that had her buzzing like a downed electrical line in a thunderstorm. Every part of her body tingled as she recalled the evening and every one of Caitlin’s words, her smiles, and her laugh. She paced the floor, full of pent-up energy that had nowhere to go.
Why had she ended the evening as she did? She and Caitlin were connecting! Caitlin was so beautiful and nice. She wasn’t pushy or intimidating. She was funny and genuinely cared about what Sarah was saying. Caitlin looked so comfortable, as if she could have stayed there talking with Sarah the rest of the night!
But then Sarah would be a wreck the next morning on her first day at her new job.
Her new job. Oh, Lord! A new job, a new apartment, a new life. She looked around the apartment at the few meager things lying around—all the possessions she had in the whole world. What was she doing here in California? Was she so sure that she’d done the right thing? Would Monday prove to be a colossal calamity? Maybe she shouldn’t have moved. She could have stayed in Texas and just moved across town. But running into her ex would be a disaster. On the other hand, her friends would have her back. Her friends! Anxious at being so far from everyone she cared about, she picked up the phone but realized it was too late in Texas to call anyone. How would she get through the night and the next few terrifying days?
Cursing her hasty move, she paced the room until a subdued knock at the door penetrated the gloom. Sarah opened it to find Caitlin in the doorway with two small bookshelf speakers, a tuner, and a CD player piled in her arms, cords dangling everywhere.
Caitlin chewed slightly on her lower lip. “I know it’s late, but I didn’t want the night to end.” Then she grinned. “Wanna listen to some CDs?”
Sarah’s heart suddenly danced in her chest and tomorrow didn’t seem as frightening. Yes, her move had been a good decision. Toluca number nine was exactly where she wanted to be. And holding the door open wide, she realized something else.
“There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing right now.”
Paradise Found- Kim Baldwin
KIM BALDWIN is a former journalist who has published six books with Bold Strokes Books: Hunter’s Pursuit and Whitewater Rendezvous, both finalists for Golden Crown Literary Society Awards, Force of Nature, Flight Risk, Focus of Desire, and her latest release: Lethal Affairs, the first book in the Elite Operatives Series, co-authored with Xenia Alexiou. The second book in the series, Thief of Always, will be released in early 2009. She has also contributed short stories to four previous BSB anthologies: Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments, Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love, Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions, and Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games. She lives in Michigan.
Contact her at [email protected] or visit her Web sites at
www.kimbaldwin.com and www.myspace.com/authorkimbaldwin for more information.
Paradise Found
Kim Baldwin
I generally hate traveling for business, though I have to do it at least a couple of times a month. All that living out of a suitcase and tedious waits at airports. But there are far worse destinations than Palm Springs in February when your home base is buried under five feet of snow, so I was in a much more upbeat mood than usual this trip, and Southern California didn’t disappoint. Temperatures were in the eighties when I arrived, the sky was a brilliant blue, and the mountains overlooking the city were breathtaking in their awesome purplish brown majesty.
What I wasn’t prepared for was the accommodations my assistant had booked for me. Meg usually opts for one of the upscale chain hotels, but she was apparently determined to make sure I had ample opportunities this trip to really relax, so she’d booked me at Casitas Laquita, a lesbian resort with a walled-in, palm tree–bordered courtyard and pool. The minute I passed through the big wooden gate and into the inner sanctum, I knew I was in heaven.
It’d been nearly a year since I’d come to grips with my growing attraction for women and realized I’d been driving on the wrong side of the road the whole of my adult life. But I hadn’t yet had the perfect opportunity or irresistible inclination to indulge in any of my fantasies. I was too busy becoming the first woman division head of Flights of Fancy.
If Meg was determined to do whatever she could to change all that, who was I to argue?
Fifteen minutes after my arrival, I was happily ensconced in a plush lawn chair in my emerald green two-piece, bathed in sunscreen and relaxing to Mozart on my MP3 player. Other guests passed by en route to their rooms, but for much of the afternoon, I had the poolside paradise to myself.
I was so relaxed I actually dozed for a while, and when I awoke, I had company. A stunning blonde, in a very brief black bikini, was lounging on a chair directly across the pool. Her expression was serene, her face relaxed, but her sunglasses made it impossible to tell whether her eyes were open. I wanted to think she was watching me, as I was surreptitiously watching her.
The quiet was broken by a feminine voice, hailing the object of my scrutiny. “Ansley! Hey, girlfriend!”
Ansley. The name suited her. Different, unusual. She sat up as a petite redhead in shorts and a tank greeted her with a brief kiss and embrace before sitting on an adjacent chair. They talked in low voices, and something Ansley said made the other woman laugh. After a couple of minutes, they both got up and headed toward one of the rooms.
Just as I was thinking what a shame it was that the ones I liked were always taken, Ansley stopped, turned, took off her sunglasses, and looked right at me, smiling.
I was instantly smitten. Something about her was different from all the other women who had caught my eye. She stirred that sweet inner ache in me, that longing to touch and be touched by gentle hands and soft breasts and ample lips. Her hair was the color of honey, her lips rosy and full.
Unfortunately, as much as I’d have loved to linger there, awaiting her reemergence, I had a business dinner with a client, so I reluctantly returned to my own room to shower and change. An hour later, as I headed toward my rental car, I got the first hint that my resort was hosting some kind of special gathering. Thirty or forty women—I glimpsed Ansley and her friend among them—were about to sit down to a private dinner at a cluster of tables set up at one end of the courtyard.
At the risk of being late for my meeting, I paused to study her. There was a sort of cocky arrogance in the way she stood, like the star athlete in an interview after the big game, not really flaunting that trim, toned body, but standing in a way that showed it off. She was about my height, five-five or five-six, but leaner than I was, and her jeans and yellow tank top were skin tight. She was talking to a trio of women, but as though she could feel my eyes on her, she pivoted to face me and shot me that melt-me smile again before returning to her conversation. I forced myself on to my appointment, wishing like anything I was part of her group.
The next morning I awoke at the ungodly hour of four a.m., my body steadfastly refusing to budge from Eastern Time. I showered and dressed, made a pot of coffee, and took a mug outside to watch the sun rise over the mountains.
I didn’t see her there at first. The only lights were the soft blue spots in the pool, and she was sitting on a bench in the shadow of a palm some distance away. It was only when she spoke that I was aware I had company.
“I don’t suppose you have more of that coffee?”
“Sure,” I managed, before hurrying back to my room like the devil himself was after me and pouring another mug with shaking hands. I didn�
�t stop to wonder why she was asking me for coffee—she had to have a coffeemaker in her room as well—I just accepted my good fortune. She smiled when I offered the steaming mug to her, and invited me to sit with a nod of her head. I settled onto the bench beside her.
This close to her, my infatuation flared from an ember of interest to a conflagration of heat. The dawn was starting to break, so I could just make out her expressive hazel eyes and see the tiny little indention in her cheek when she smiled. Damn. She was hot as hell. One look at her and I was ready, anxious, and eager to finally become a full-fledged lesbian myself, if I could be one with her. But her next words doused my enthusiasm.
“Thanks. I didn’t want to wake my roomie, but I was about to die for a hit of caffeine.”
Oh, how I wanted to believe the redhead was only her roomie. A friend she liked to vacation with. “I know the feeling,” was the only brilliant remark my befuddled brain could manage, sitting this close to her. She smelled of jasmine, and I wondered whether it was her shampoo or perfume. I forced myself not to sniff her hair, though the temptation was maddening.
“Beautiful here, isn’t it? Almost worth being an insomniac.”
Her comment turned my attention to the glorious pink and orange hues painting the sky above the mountains.
“Indeed.” I’m normally much more profound than this, but the combination of the awesome surroundings and proximity to her just took my breath away.
“How long are you staying?”
I could feel her eyes on me, but I remained pointed toward the sunrise, hoping she might mistake the pink on my cheeks for a reflection off the colored sky.
“Just five days,” I answered somberly. “My work consumes far too much of my life.”
“Me, too,” she said with equal sadness, clearly as distressed as I at the prospect of ever leaving.
The answer gave me strength. More likely then, perhaps, that the woman with her was just a business associate. My mind was desperately searching for that witty or insightful phrase that would make an indelible impression on her, when redheadus interruptus struck again. “Hey, Ansley!” she called from the doorway of their room, fifteen feet away. She was wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe, her legs were bare, and her red hair was tousled. “Please come make the coffee. You know I can never get it right.”
