Wayworn Lovers

by Gun Brooke

  Wrapping her arms around herself, Giselle pressed her forehead against her knees. Had she made a terrible mistake from day one with Tierney? Not to mention bringing her and Stephanie in under her roof? Now Giselle had two people, both virtual strangers, in her house, and she couldn’t just throw them out. Stephanie was depending on them to keep her safe and cared for until she was offered a better place. And Tierney…Groaning, Giselle felt her nipples harden at the thought of Tierney sleeping on the other side of the wall. Her evil mind pictured the often-free-spirited Tierney sleeping in a severely messed-up bed, arms and legs flung in all directions, her hair fanned out over the pillows.

  Giselle tried to take in long, even breaths, but her stomach clenched as the vision of Tierney moving restlessly while stuck in vivid dreams haunted her. Then the vision changed, and Giselle was there with her, her arms and legs wrapped around Tierney, reveling in the feel of her as she kept her from having nightmares. In her mind, Tierney turned toward her and reciprocated the embrace, Giselle free enough to accept the strong arms around her.

  Whimpering, Giselle threw herself back against the pillows. This was insane. Crazy. She would drive herself nuts if she kept entertaining impossible scenarios that would end up breaking her heart.

  Her treacherous body wouldn’t slow down. Pushing her hands in between her thighs, Giselle tried to stave off the burning sensation permeating her lower stomach, radiating throughout her system. She didn’t want to feel like this. It was such a solitary emotion, burning, pining for someone that would, or could, never be there with her. Yes, Tierney was in the next room, but she might as well have been in another star system. Ripping her hands away from her body, Giselle sobbed. Just once, but that was more than she had allowed herself to cry in years. Normally, she kept her equilibrium and remained cool and aloof. She would be damned if she was going to lie here, touching herself while aching for Tierney, only to end up even colder and lonelier than before.

  Giselle shoved at her pillows, pushing them together. She pulled the covers up over her shoulders, which suddenly felt cold to the touch. She would go to sleep, forget about all this, and tomorrow focus on her music and on being a gracious hostess.

  Eventually Tierney and Stephanie would move on, continue their lives elsewhere, and Giselle was fine with that. Burying her face into the soft pillow, she whimpered. She didn’t have any alternative.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tierney entered the house after taking Charley on a quick walk before she started on, well, brunch, she supposed. It was after one p.m., and she had heard Giselle move about in her room when she woke up. After showering and making herself presentable, Tierney checked in on Stephanie, and that was where she’d found Charley, still curled up on Stephanie’s bed.

  Tierney set the breakfast-nook table, humming as she worked. The bright-yellow tablecloth made it look fresh and cozy.

  She heard steps behind her and turned in time to see Giselle sweep into the kitchen and yank a plate from the table. Without saying anything, she passed Tierney, snagged some bacon and scrambled eggs, poured herself a glass of orange juice with her free hand, then left.

  Standing there with her jaw sagging, Tierney heard the door to the music room close with a resounding bang. So, the composer wasn’t in a good mood. Tierney would never pretend to know Giselle inside out, but Giselle’s defense mechanism was obviously in action. If Tierney went after her and tried to ask her what was wrong, her attempt would only backfire.

  Resetting the table for two, Tierney inwardly shook her head. It wasn’t easy to understand Giselle, but this time, Tierney guessed that last night’s ordeal, and her decision to bring Stephanie with them to stay at the main house, was at the core of Giselle’s behavior. No doubt, Giselle was second-guessing herself, and perhaps she didn’t want them to know, least of all Stephanie, most likely.

  “Smells great,” a quiet voice said from the doorway to the kitchen. “Bacon?”

  “Good morning, Steph. And yes, bacon and eggs any way you want them. Scrambled?”

  “Love scrambled eggs.” Stephanie took a plate and added some bacon strips and eggs from the stove. “Giselle not up yet?” Stephanie looked refreshed, as if she hadn’t gone through hell and back yesterday.

  “Listen.” Tierney held up a finger. When they were quiet, barely audible piano music filtered through the soundproofed room. Giselle was playing one of her more intense pieces.

  “That’s her playing?” Stephanie scooped some scrambled eggs into her mouth. Chewing, she blinked several times.

  “Something wrong? Too much salt?” Tierney became concerned.

  “Are these real eggs?” Eagerly, Stephanie took another mouthful.

  “Sure.” Not certain what Stephanie meant at first, Tierney then remembered. “Oh, please, don’t tell me the Brodys still use powdered eggs?” Tierney remembered the bland, strange concoction that her former foster parents had claimed was scrambled eggs.

  “They do. I got kind of used to them after a while. I don’t think the little kids had ever tasted real eggs. Guess what you don’t know, you don’t miss.” Shrugging, Stephanie took a bacon strip between her fingers and bit into it. “Oh, my God. Even this is the good kind. I had it a few times at a friend’s house. When Barbie found out I’d gone to their house when school ended early because a teacher got sick, she grounded me for two weeks. Only time I could go out was when I ran errands for her. I wasn’t even allowed to go to school during those weeks. I hated it.”

  “School?” Tierney poured coffee for herself. She raised the pot inquisitively toward Stephanie, who shook her head and poured herself some orange juice instead.

  “No. I hated not being in school. School was sort of my safe place. I didn’t have many friends, but I had a few, and they made life bearable. Together with the younger kids at the Brodys’.”

  “Those idiots…those…” Tierney didn’t continue with the offensive word she meant to say about the Brodys, not wanting to set a bad example even if she knew Stephanie had heard worse than what Tierney could come up with, from Victor Brody.

  “I know. Those.” Stephanie looked pensively out through the window.

  “As for what you asked earlier, yes, it’s Giselle playing. She’s composing for Chicory Ariose right now.” Tierney was glad to change the subject.

  Turning her head and looking much happier, Stephanie looked impressed. “That is beyond cool. Once they started to record a few songs with Noelle Laurent, a lot of the kids in my school started really getting into them. Some kids thought they were chill by saying they were too old, but even they had to surrender. I mean, they’re from Rhode Island and everything. And Noelle is just the bomb.”

  “She sure is.” Tierney wondered if the world-renowned soul-pop star would make an appearance at the house with Chicory Ariose. If she did, and if Stephanie was still here at that point, it would be an unforgettable experience for her young friend. Laughing inwardly at herself, Tierney confessed she wouldn’t exactly say no to meeting Noelle in the flesh.

  A strange, loud sound from the music room startled her. It sounded as if Giselle had slammed her fists into the piano keys and then slammed the lid. Hesitating, Tierney stood, not knowing what to do.

  “Why don’t you go see if she needs something?” Stephanie looked a little pale. “I can put the dishes away.

  “You’re not here to do chores,” Tierney said absentmindedly. “That’s my job.”

  “Yeah, that may be, but I’m a bit iffy about someone slamming doors and yelling. I don’t know about you, but that may have been a musician’s way of doing just that. Please, check on her?”

  Tierney flinched and scanned Stephanie closely. Tension around the eyes and pale lips spoke of stress. “Okay. Thanks for dealing with the kitchen. Just put things wherever they fit in the dishwasher. I’ll start it later if you can’t figure it out.” She patted Stephanie’s shoulder in passing. Grabbing the coffee pot, to have a less-obvious reason to disturb Giselle, she walked quickly th
rough the house toward the music room. After she knocked on the door, she opened it and peered inside. At first, she didn’t spot Giselle, but then she saw her standing by the window, both palms against the glass.

  “Giselle?” Tierney murmured, hoping she wouldn’t frighten her.

  Pivoting so quickly she had to grab the back of an armchair, Giselle glowered at her. “What do you want? I thought it would be obvious I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Yeah, that. I just wanted to see if you needed a refill.” Tierney wiggled the coffee pot for emphasis.

  Giselle stared at it as if it was a completely alien object. “Coffee?”

  “Yes.” Walking closer, Tierney peered into the mug sitting on the small sideboard next to the grand piano. “This is empty.”

  “All right. If you insist. By all means, pour me some coffee.” Flinging her hands into the air, Giselle turned back to the window.

  “Please, Giselle. Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help?” Mentally ducking, waiting for Giselle’s annoyance or anger, Tierney gripped the now-empty coffee pot harder.

  “Either you are presumptuous or…I don’t know, actually. What are you exactly, Tierney?” If Giselle’s voice hadn’t sounded so hollow, the scathing words would have been hurtful. Now, Tierney could look beyond what Giselle said and instead try to interpret what she meant.

  “I’m not presumptuous. If anything, I feel I’m walking on thin ice.” Tierney put the pot down and took a hesitant step toward Giselle. “We heard you all the way in the kitchen, despite the soundproofed walls. You startled Steph.” It was a cheap trick, but Tierney was ready to say just about anything to get Giselle’s attention.

  “What?” Giselle turned much more slowly this time. “I didn’t mean to. Please let Stephanie know that.” Pressing her right hand to her midsection, she swallowed visibly.

  “She knows. She’s doing the dishes so I could go see you. I think you’re upset because you have regrets. I’m not sure how I can make her understand that, but mainly you’re just at a loss since you aren’t used to this situation.” Tierney stopped speaking, out of breath after rattling off the words.

  “I don’t regret anything, but my entire system is in uproar.” Giselle made a face.

  “And why the hammering on the poor piano?” Tierney asked lightly.

  “It was there.” Giselle growled. “I mean, I really disapprove of such displays, but it was as if I had ants crawling all over me. I couldn’t think, and even worse, I couldn’t hear the music. I hate that.”

  “I’m so sorry. I never meant for anything regarding my past or Steph’s situation to affect you this way.” Really upset now, Tierney wanted to snap her fingers and make herself go invisible, something she’d seen in a rerun of an old sitcom once. It had stuck in her mind, as she would have loved to be able to do that on more occasions than she could recall.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for my actions, or lack thereof.” Annoyance barely hid the pain in Giselle’s voice. She inhaled deeply and slammed her fist against the window. “Fuck.”

  Anger simmered beneath Tierney’s skin now. “Am I supposed to apologize for apologizing now? I’m at a loss here, really.” She was. How was this going to work when Giselle was in full panic mood?

  Slowly turning back to face Tierney, Giselle was now clearly trembling, and her complexion had taken on a pale, grayish hue. “No. This…” She gestured at herself. “This is all on me.” The desperation in her voice proved to Tierney that Giselle was fighting her demons right now.

  Reacting purely on instinct, Tierney strode over to Giselle and wrapped her arms around her. Being the shorter of the two, she hugged the rigid woman tight around her waist. “Please. You’re going to be fine. This is just the first day. Steph and I won’t crowd you or demand stuff of you that you don’t want to give, that you’re not ready for.” Hoping Giselle would take her suggestion the right way, she said, “If you want, I can ask Steph to walk Charley and play with her. That way, we could perhaps work more on the song combined with some lyrics. Perhaps the lyrics will suck, but that might just get you back on track. If not, yelling at me for being a musical moron could do the trick.”

  Giselle stood motionless for a few moments that seemed like minutes, but then relaxed some and lowered her head, pressing her forehead against Tierney’s shoulder. “I hate myself when I get like this. I loathe not being in control. I apologize.”

  “All this apologizing is making me tired.” Tierney had to joke, or the proximity to Giselle, standing in a full-frontal embrace, would make her knees give in.

  “I agree.” Lifting her head, Giselle looked wearily at Tierney. “Do you think Stephanie is all right and feeling secure enough to be on her own so soon?”

  “I think so, but I’ll ask. If she’s uneasy about it, she can sit in the living room with my laptop and surf the net while we’re in here with the door open. That sound okay?”

  Giselle’s expression softened, and color returned to her cheeks. “It does.” She stepped back but slowly raised her hand and cupped Tierney’s cheek. “You are something else.”

  Gasping, Tierney felt as if Giselle’s touch ought to leave a permanent handprint on her cheek…or, rather, her heart. She slowly raised her own trembling hand and placed it on Giselle’s, wanting to prolong the touch. “I’m not sure what you mean by that, exactly.” Tierney smiled, or perhaps the attempt to do so was more like a wobbly stretching of the lips.

  “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known.” Giselle tilted her head, wearing a puzzled expression. “It’s like as soon as I think I have you figured out, you surprise me by doing something completely unexpected.” She removed her hand from Tierney’s face, but turned it inside Tierney’s hand and held it as she lowered it farther.

  So, they were cupping cheeks and holding hands. “Talk about surprises. I didn’t see this coming.” Tierney swung their joined hands lightly. Her heart refused to be cautious as it sang in her chest.

  Giselle blushed faintly but smiled. “Neither did I. And, somehow, you’ve helped pull me back—or reel me in, perhaps. I sometimes feel I’m this runaway freight train that barrels toward disaster and I can’t stop it. Or myself. I’m not quite sure how it happens, even if I can recognize the triggers. And on occasion, I can’t find any explanation for it. At all.” Her smile turned wistful.

  “I’m not sure what I did, but I bet you becoming annoyed at me, rather than panicked about something else, had something to do with it.” Cautiously, Tierney peered at Giselle through her eyelashes.

  “Probably.” Now, Giselle chuckled, which warmed Tierney throughout. Why was it that whenever Giselle could freely smile or laugh, it meant more to Tierney than pretty much anything else in her life? It didn’t happen often, but when it did, the moments were golden. Giselle squeezed Tierney’s hand gently, then let go. “Why don’t we try your suggestion? Go ask Steph if she wants to play with Charley or keep us company.”

  “All right.” Missing Giselle’s touch as if it was connected to the oxygen she required to breathe, Tierney returned to Stephanie in the kitchen. As it turned out, Stephanie wanted very much to play with Charley, but also asked if it was all right to tiptoe into the music room later. After reassurances from Tierney that she was welcome, Stephanie flung her arms around Tierney’s neck and hugged her fiercely.

  “Thank you so much. I know it’s temporary, Tierney, I really do know that, but I’m so glad to be here right now. This is such a dreamy place, and if it takes me forever, this is how I want to live one day.”

  Trying to swallow the lump forming in her throat, Tierney hugged her young friend back, wishing she had a home of her own to offer Stephanie. Chiding herself, she knew that was only half the truth. She wished she belonged here and that she and Giselle could offer Stephanie this home. Stephanie was right. It was a dreamy place—and she couldn’t indulge in dreams. She’d learned that hard fact as a child when the parents she’d hoped would find h
er irresistible and adopt her never came.

  In a way, Tierney wished she would grow itchy feet again and want to move on to the next town soon. That was what she’d done since she was eighteen and out of the system. The nomadic life had suited her fine, but now she was straying far too long from the lessons she’d learned. Don’t get attached, be friendly but don’t make friends, and, most important of all, never let anyone see your heart bleed. Those were her mantras, and she feared they were starting to corrode. Tierney trembled as she thought of Stephanie’s dreams. She was just a kid and still not jaded enough by her experiences. The Tierney pre-East Quay would have taken it upon herself to caution Stephanie against dreaming too big.

  Now, she couldn’t make herself do that. Stephanie had the right to dream, to plan, without someone shooting her down. Tierney rocked Stephanie gently. Stephanie had gone from a close online friend to an even closer friend, and a protégé of sorts, in the physical world.

  Would these emotions be her downfall?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Giselle had to fight not to stare at Tierney as she stood next to the piano, her eyes on the notebook she’d placed on the music stand in front of her. Focusing on playing the new chorus to one of the potential songs Chicory Ariose might choose, she was inspired to help Tierney find the passion the lyrics suggested by aiming for a heart-wrenching crescendo. The song was about profound longing, and Giselle wanted the listener to feel every single note and absorb every one of Tierney’s words.