Amor and More

by Radclyffe

  “What makes you tick?” she asked.

  “You, you sexy time bomb. You’re always ready to go off.” Jefferson laughed as she bundled Dawn in one of her grandmother’s afghans.

  It was still warm on the porch, or maybe she was still warm with bliss. The pine trees gave off the heated aroma of real balsam. She said, “You’d make a good poker player, J.”

  “I’m not too shabby at poker.”

  “I can see why. Your face never shows what’s going on inside.”

  “You’re the only thing that goes inside me,” Jefferson said with a glance at Dawn’s hand.

  Ignoring Jefferson’s joke, she went on. “You’re also very good at deflecting my questions.”

  Jefferson hung her head. “I’m sorry. That’s left over from my drinking days. Honesty is hard.”

  Living on the lake hadn’t done much to bring Jefferson peace, she thought. She was like a child who puts her fingers in her ears and makes noise so she can’t hear. In Jefferson’s case, so she couldn’t hear what was going on inside herself.

  “Do you have to swim today?” She heard the whine in her voice and could have kicked herself.

  Jefferson was plainly all revved up and ready to go. “What’s wrong with swimming?”

  “It’s not the swimming, it’s these impossible challenges you set for yourself.” At times like this, Jefferson’s heedless distancing made her so angry she could just stalk off and never return. Let her drown in the lake the way she almost drowned in alcohol. Let her find some other dancer type like the one who turned her life upside down. Didn’t Jefferson understand that Dawn wanted to help right her? A surge of love quelled her anger and frustration. She stroked Jefferson’s hair. “I worry about you.”

  Jefferson kissed her hand. “I like that.”

  She’d never known a lover so courtly.

  Dawn got dressed, still vibrating, and stood on the porch steps in time to see Jefferson, in her neon orange racer’s swimsuit and cap, dive into the lake. Today she was headed to a promontory with an oversized new house and an acre of new lawn. The swim, round-trip, was about a half mile, Jefferson said, and added, “No sweat.”

  Jefferson, in the water, rolled on her back and waved like a playful otter. Dawn waved back from the porch, watching in case anything went wrong. Jefferson became an increasingly distant orange dot bobbing in the lake. She didn’t seem to understand that her body was a piece of aging equipment, or maybe she did, and this was her way of refusing the loss of her powers.

  Jefferson wasn’t a deep thinker and just now, Dawn tried to shut her mind down too. She’d learned that there were times in life when you just had to go for it. The air before you becomes robust, as if it’s taking a shape, your shape, and you must step into it.

  She was still on the porch when two stand-up Jet Skis roared away from the promontory.

  Kids, she thought, it must be kids because one of those one-person skis held two people.

  “That’s nuts,” she said aloud to no one. And then, yelling, she ran across the lawn, down the stone steps, and out on the dock. She waved her arms, frantic with the thought that she’d called for this drowning not ten minutes ago. The Jet Skis were loud, crazy loud, even from this distance.

  Jefferson heard them too, she was sure, but could she evade them? How many times had she told Jefferson it was crazy to be that far out in the lake without a spotter boat? She mimed swimming and gestured for the kids to veer west, but she was so far away. Would they see Jefferson in time?

  The skiers were laughing and yelling as they circled and jumped over each other’s waves. Jefferson was doing the backstroke now. Was she trying to make herself more visible or was she pretending invincibility, ignoring the danger? Why, Dawn wondered, did I have to fall for such a daredevil dope? She yelled again.

  Bob and Bonnie, the straight couple in the next house toward town, called from their dock, asking if she was all right. She pointed.

  “Is that little Amelia swimming out there?” Bob yelled.

  She gave a vigorous nod. They’d watched Jefferson grow up.

  “You’d better go get her!” Bonnie said.

  Dawn glanced at the boathouse. Her family had cows, not boats. Jefferson kept saying she would teach Dawn to run the launch, but hadn’t.

  Then it happened. She heard Bonnie scream and looked back at the lake in time to see the Jet Ski that carried two people barrel over into the water, throwing the passenger and taking the driver down with it.

  Where was Jefferson?

  Bob cast off in his small motorboat. His engine was smaller than Jefferson’s, but it was obvious he was running full throttle.

  She saw the orange bathing cap then. Jefferson was treading water. Had something hit her? She ran to the porch for binoculars and focused from the front steps. Jefferson was holding someone up. The lone skier dove again and again, searching for the third person.

  Jefferson helped put her charge, who appeared to be eight or nine, in the neighbor’s boat. The missing skier surfaced. He floated on the surface and his friend towed him in.

  Bonnie arrived carrying binoculars too.

  “What’s Amelia doing way out there?” she asked.

  Bob was cruising toward the new house. Jefferson swam beside him.

  Bonnie said, “She must be exhausted.”

  Dawn was surprised to hear herself speak with pride. “She’ll see it through.”

  “My Bob is the same way. Has been since the day we met. When he’s set on something, nothing and no one will stop him. He scares me sometimes, but I wouldn’t have him any other way. That’s the guy I fell for forty-odd years ago.”

  Dawn wanted to ask how long it took. How many of those forty years did Bonnie worry herself sick over Bob’s stubborn risks?

  Bob must have given his cell phone to one of the kids, as the parents were waiting on their brand-new dock. The mother held a hand over her mouth, the father smacked the eldest kid in the head and yanked the wailing youngest across the lawn by his scrawny arm. Jefferson hoisted herself into Bob’s boat. He handed her what looked like a moth-eaten army blanket. Dawn breathed her deep relief, the clean lake air soothing her throat, scratchy from yelling.

  When the two adventurers tied up, she helped Jefferson into her blue terry robe with the sense she was wrapping herself around her. Bonnie invited them for barbecue, but Jefferson looked wan, her shivers interrupted by shudders. Dawn asked for a rain check.

  Her anger was gone. She could no more accuse Jefferson of foolhardiness at that moment than she could have stalked off earlier. This wasn’t her folks’ marriage, how could it be? She’d chosen the excitement that was Jefferson.

  Dawn led her home to shower. She tested the water’s warmth and stepped into the shower to lather Jefferson’s strong swimmer’s shoulders. Forty years. The thought made her light-headed with happiness.

  Ali Vali is the author of The Devil Inside, The Devil Unleashed, Deal with the Devil, The Devil Be Damned, and The Devil’s Orchard. Her Forces Series includes Balance of Forces: Toujours Ici and Battle of Forces: Sera Toujours. Her stand-alone novels are Carly’s Sound, Second Season, Blue Skies, the two Lambda Literary Award finalists Calling the Dead and Love Match, and The Dragon Tree Legacy.

  This story features characters from her long-running Devil Series.

  The Devil You Know

  Ali Vali

  “Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” Emma Casey asked as she sat in the bathroom putting on her makeup.

  “Is this pregnancy making you lose your mind or something?” Mob boss Cain Casey toweled off after a long shower. Emma had her head cocked back slightly as she applied mascara, but she stuck her tongue out at her in the mirror anyway.

  They were getting ready for the costume party Marianna Jatibon hosted every year at the Piquant for her husband Ramon’s birthday. With encouragement from the Piquant’s owner and old family friend Poppy Valente, it had become an annual event that kicked off the fall social season in New
Orleans. Poppy had lost her first partner, Carly, to breast cancer, so along with a few events she hosted throughout the year, Ramon’s party raised a tremendous amount of money for breast cancer research in Carly Valente’s name.

  “I don’t know why I’m bothering with all this stuff.” Emma finished with her eyelashes. “We’ll have masks on the entire time.”

  “First,” Cain said, kneeling next to Emma and running her fingers from her knee up her thigh, “it’ll always be a privilege to escort you anywhere, and I don’t take that lightly.” She continued touching along Emma’s stomach to the underside of her breast. “And you bother because you’ll take your mask off at midnight, and the thought of being in public without makeup on will make you nuts, though I’m not sure why. My prediction is you’ll be the sexiest and most beautiful woman there, war paint or not.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re so loyal. You lie so well.” Emma grabbed her hand. “But we don’t have enough time for me to put all this stuff back on, so behave, mobster.”

  Emma balanced herself when she stood by putting her hands on Cain’s shoulders. They were close enough that Emma’s midsection pressed against Cain’s lips, so she kissed the surface, hoping the baby somehow knew how much it was loved and wanted. “You’ve got a few months to go, so don’t wear out your welcome, buddy. And take it easy on your mama.”

  “Casey babies seem to only come in extra-large.” Emma groaned when Cain licked her nipple. “I should be over the crazed sex phase of this pregnancy, but I’m not, so keep your tongue and those grabby hands to yourself until we get home.”

  “I could relax you without going anywhere near your makeup, scout’s honor.”

  “You were never a scout, honey, though you’re always prepared. You might’ve shaken up the ranks if your mom had signed you up, and your cookie sale numbers would’ve been legendary.”

  “So how about some R-and-R before the party?”

  “Remi and Dallas will be here in a little while to pick us up, so you’re going to have to exhibit some of that patience you’re known for.” Emma leaned her bottom against the marble counter and smiled up at Cain as she stood. “Tonight I want to have fun,” she said, putting her hand between Cain’s legs. “I want to dance and have you whisper in detail what you’re going to do to me when we’re alone again.”

  Emma’s fingers stroked through her growing wetness and got her instantly hard. Cain spread her feet slightly. “Eloquent words to get me to behave, but your hand isn’t in agreement, lass.” Emma squeezed her clit between her index and middle finger, and the pressure almost made Cain come.

  “Sometimes I can’t look at you without wanting you,” Emma said and let up a little. “Do we risk my makeup or can you wait?”

  Cain lifted Emma a little more on the counter and covered her sex with the palm of her hand, only dipping one finger down to see how wet she was. “I can wait if you can.” Emma’s hips jerked and she came close to changing her mind. “It can be like our dating days when you worked me into a lather, then sent me home in a desperate state.”

  “Good things and waiting, baby, you know the old saying.” Emma circled Cain’s diamond-hard clit with a feather touch. Cain was about to beg for her to finish what she’d started when they’d gotten in the shower together. “We can pretend it’s like those old wonderful days, but when we get home, I promise to teach you a whole new meaning for desperate.”

  “Fuck,” Cain said as Emma got wetter and she got harder.

  “I promise you it’ll come to that,” Emma teased as she pushed her back a step.

  *

  “Mama!” Hannah slammed her hands against their bedroom door. “Can I see you?”

  “Aren’t you glad we decided to wait,” Emma said, stepping into her panties and slipping on her robe as Cain headed into the walk-in closet.

  “You know I work well under pressure.”

  “Go put something on, troublemaker.” Emma opened the door to their daughter and their son Hayden.

  “Can we say hello to the baby?” Hannah asked.

  Emma opened her robe a little and Hannah and Hayden went through their ritual of whispering something and kissing her big tummy, as Hannah called it. This daily exercise had started when the children had seen Cain doing it.

  “Let me.” Cain took Emma’s stockings from her and knelt to put them on for her. “You’re going to be good, right?” she asked the children as she got the first leg done, her fingers resting on Emma’s thigh longer than necessary before she started on the other leg.

  “I should ask you the same thing.” Emma tapped the end of Cain’s nose.

  “Did you tell the baby something special?” Hayden asked as he sat with Hannah on his lap.

  “I told them I saved some toys so we could play in the bathroom when they get here.” Hannah stood on his lap and leaned back as far as Hayden’s reach would go. “What did you say?”

  “I let them know how great it is to be the big brother, and what a wonderful big sister they’re lucky to have.” Hayden slowly stood as Hannah walked her feet up his chest and fearlessly flipped over and landed on her feet. “Are you going to help Mama get dressed and I’ll take Mom?”

  Dallas Montgomery walked in without knocking and pointed at Hayden and Cain. “I volunteered for that job too, so clear out, you two.”

  “Who are you, Aunt Dallas?” Hannah asked.

  “Tonight I’m the reformed Genevieve.”

  “Reformed?” Cain asked.

  “My Arthur’s downstairs, and she looks so hot in that armor, Lancelot doesn’t have a chance.” Dallas made them all laugh, playing with Hannah as Emma tied Cain’s bow tie.

  “We’ll be down in a few. Try not to forget the list of stuff you have to do later,” Emma said to Cain.

  “It’s going to be an eventful night, and not just for us.”

  “Those are the best kind.”

  “I doubt everyone agrees with you.” Cain kissed Emma’s cheek, followed by Hayden.

  “That’s because they haven’t seen you naked.”

  “A little work, a lot of fun, and then naked. I promise a memorable night,” Cain whispered.

  “You always deliver those in stunning fashion, so I’m glad the fun and naked part will be all I’m involved in,” Emma murmured as Cain gathered the rest of her costume and left.

  *

  The Piquant’s main ballroom was packed and everyone in attendance seemed happy to have an excuse to leave their Katrina-related repairs behind for the night. Most of Cain and Emma’s friends had come through the storm okay except for Vinny, whose house had been severely flooded. Katrina had only cost them part of the roof over the sunroom and kitchen, some trees, and all of Hannah’s playground equipment. That Cain had replaced before the roofers even showed up.

  “You picked a costume that makes it hard to kiss you in,” Emma said as they danced to the old Spanish love song Ramon requested every year. The one he said had been played at his wedding.

  “I thought my choice was perfect since I’m sure our surveillance team and your mother believe I seduced you to a dark underworld.” The Phantom mask was making her hot and itchy, but it was important to keep it on until Ramon blew out his candles. “You’re my young impressionable Christine tonight, and I intend to seduce you.”

  “You know I can’t sing worth a damn, right…much less opera?”

  “No, but you will scream when I put my tongue—”

  “Have mercy on me, mobster.” Emma bit her chin softly. “I’m already at the breaking point, and we’ve got a few hours to go.”

  “I thought you wanted a detailed description of how your night will end?”

  “Right now I want you to walk me to the restroom again.” Emma leaned on Cain when Cain put an arm around her waist to make sure no tipsy dancers ran into them. “While we’re in there, maybe you can convince baby Casey into swimming clear of my bladder for a little while.”

  “I’ll see what I can do about all the promises I ma
de to you.”

  *

  “Someone’s getting lucky tonight,” Special Agent Joe Simmons said into the mike at his wrist. “But don’t let the lovebirds fool you. Casey loves nights like this to cover up some plan or another, so maybe we’ll get lucky in return.”

  Claire Lansing sat in the small conference room next to the one where the party was raging. “So far I’m thrilled with the new equipment.” Earlier they’d mounted the new high-powered, electronically easy-to-aim microphones. “The new stuff does a fantastic job of dropping out the background noise, so of course, the only thing on Cain’s mind is getting her partner to go home early. Actually hearing her voice and not some hideous song her evil mind comes up with is a blessing.”

  Shelby Phillips had to agree with that. They weren’t sure how she did it, but songs like the theme from Bonanza could drive you insane after a few hours and would stay lodged in your brain for weeks. “At least we know this all works and so far haven’t been jammed,” she said, standing up so the bathrooms were in sight. “It was a good time to test it.”

  “Shut up and pay attention,” Special Agent Brent Cehan said when the door opened and the Caseys came out. “I hope she does try some shit tonight before I go.”

  “Back off and bring it down a notch,” Shelby warned as Brent paced close to where Cain and Emma were walking. “After tonight this won’t be your problem anymore, and the only reason you’re here is some of the agents assigned to the other families are out sick. I’m sure the good citizens of Anchorage will love you, but I’ve had enough of your mouth for a lifetime.” Shelby smiled when Brent made a rude gesture in her direction, but after he’d gotten it out of his system, it seemed that he’d do as he was told.

  She scanned the room again for anything out of the ordinary, but so far this was what it seemed—a party and nothing more. The music stayed slow and the dance floor full, including the Caseys, but she had them in sight as Cain kept up her flirting with Emma.