The Lone Star Collection

by Renee Mackenzie

  “Dig in. So...is this a silly topic all night long chat or digging into our psyche until it hurts convo?”

  “You've been my best friend for fifteen years now. Be honest with me. Did you see this coming?” Ginny asked.

  “Rightio, we're jumping into the poke til it hurts discussion.” Hillary paused while she opened the other ice cream container and looked at her best friend's pain-filled expression. “Okay, you wanted honest. Yes, I saw it coming nine years ago.”

  “Why didn't you say anything?”

  “You said the magic L-word. I wasn't going to stomp on your rainbow if there was even the slightest chance you could make it.” Hillary stuck her spoon into the creamy treat and dug out a large chunk.

  “Why did you move? God, I missed being able to drive over in the middle of the night. I felt abandoned,” Ginny confessed.

  Hillary raised her eyebrow. “You had Cynthia. I was a third wheel, and it was jarring me to bump along the road with you two and painful to watch how in love you two were. I had to venture out on my own.”

  “Do you know how close I came to begging you to stay? I know it was selfish of me. I was so frickin jealous of Darcy, and then I felt guilty about it. I saw her crushing on you way before the two of you became an item. I only started dating Cynthia because I was pissed at you for attracting Darcy's attention, and because I figured you were the type of friend who would never start dating unless I was involved too. I wanted you to be happy, and if it wasn't with me, I could pull up my big girl panties and let you fall in love with someone...” As Ginny’s words trailed, she picked up the pint of ice cream from the table. Her spoon easily pushed into the now softened ice cream and she lifted the melting treat to her mouth.

  Huh? Is it even possible that Ginny feels the same? Hillary watched the spoon disappear into the beautiful mouth before blurting out, “Oh, good grief, I was never in love with Darcy; she could never hold a candle to you.” She'd gone and done it now. Her true feelings were out there hanging precariously like a single strand of a spider web swaying in the breeze. Hillary decided to move the conversation in a different direction before Ginny's sleepy or addled, alcohol-soaked brain registered the comment. At least she hoped that a fair amount of alcohol was sloshing around inside. “Do you know what her parting comment was? ‘I can't believe you sell any books at all if your furniture sense is any indication of your writing style’,” Hillary added quickly.

  “I shoulda known what a titknob Darcy was. She always had that pretentious air about her,” Ginny declared.

  Whew, the confession had completely sailed over Ginny's head. Although, Hillary was a tiny bit disappointed. If she were honest with herself, she wanted Ginny to finally know how she felt. After all these years, her secret longing begged to be set free. Maybe that's why she unconsciously gently steered Ginny back. “What? That is the most convoluted thing I think I've ever heard you say. Who starts dating someone out of jealousy? Oh, and Titknob?” Hillary jabbed the spoon into the container and set it on the big tongue. Come on, Ginny, take the bait. This dancing around is killing me. Deep down inside, Hillary knew what was really happening; she'd probably known it all along. They were destined to come together tonight. Finally, after all those wasted years.

  “Yeah, the female version of a dickknob. Maybe convoluted but true. You know I used to watch you when you were scribbling in that journal, and I'd wait patiently until you looked up, hoping you would make eye contact with me. Good thing I suck at English, or you never would have given me the time of day.” Ginny set her pint on the table and looked directly at Hillary.

  Thank you, Jesus, I'm not letting that last offhanded comment go unchallenged. I guess it's now or never. “What a load of bullcrap. There was probably drool slipping out the sides of my mouth the first time you looked up at me after tying your shoe on the basketball court. You were the big basketball star with minions hanging onto your every word even though they were total asswipes. I had the biggest crush on you.”

  Ginny turned her head and mimicked a vegetable shoot moving closer to the sunshine as she inched toward Hillary. A slow sure smile blossomed on her face, and she stopped her ascent a mere foot from Hillary. “I'm going to kiss you now because fifteen years is a long damn time to wonder, and it will be worth the slap in the face I might receive.”

  For the briefest moment, Hillary wondered if this was all just another of her dreams. She had multiple versions of the moment when their lips would first meet. Sometimes she would be the aggressor, and at other times Ginny would take the lead. If this was another one of her nighttime fantasies, she'd select the former and be the one to take charge. Before Hillary chickened out, she grabbed the sides of Ginny’s face and pressed her lips to Ginny's. It was barely a peck, but it was a start. “Bout damn time. Sheesh, sometimes you talk too much.”

  “Pfft, aren't you the pot.” Ginny pushed Hillary against the plump vagina at the corner of the L and laid on top of her as she instigated a proper kiss, complete with tongue exploration. Her hands began to roam on Hillary's body, and Hillary's response was a long, low moan.

  She ended the kiss and hovered above Hillary. The look Hillary saw on Ginny’s face made it clear that both of them were complete muttonheads. “Why didn't you ever say anything?”

  Ginny shifted slightly, but still maintained her physical connection with Hillary. “I tried to a million times. Geez, what the hell do you think I've been doing for the last half hour? Every time I told you I loved you, I didn't mean as a friend, but that's the way you took it, so I went with it.”

  “Well, I haven't exactly been coy with you either. Short of banging you on the head with a frying pan and saying snap out of it and listen to what I'm trying to tell you, I don't think my statements have been very coy at all. Frickin' unrequited love. Chinese water torture. That's what it was like for me. Hey, what would you think about getting my friend Salem to make us a vulva bed frame, and then we can put the sailboat in the spare bedroom? I hate that boring bedroom set you have. I wish Darcy would have taken that, but her new girlfriend already had furniture more her style, and she didn't want it.”

  “Only if Salem is really a friend, and there isn't a chance in hell that she could be something more. I can't think of anything more perfect than making love inside a gigantic vulva.” Ginny chuckled. “But, you know, I've always wanted to go sailing.”

  “I love a woman with good taste in furniture. Salem is and will always be just a friend. Besides, she has a wife. Ginny, I love you, always have, always will and not in that friend way, more like in that I want to jump your bones way.”

  “I love you too, and for the record, every single time I've said I love you in the past, I mean it in that, I want to lick you like a lollipop until you come harder than you've ever come before, way.”

  “Rightio, it's time to go sailing.” Hillary grabbed Ginny by the hand and pulled her toward her makeshift sailboat. She couldn't wait for Salem to make that vulva bed.

  About the Author

  Annette Mori

  Annette is an award-winning author, who lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her wife and their five furry kids. She has ten published novels. Her fourth novel, Locked Inside, won a Goldie Award from the Golden Crown Literary Society.

  If someone picks up one of her books and it touches them, Annette believes that she has achieved her goal as an author. To see her other publications visit the Affinity Rainbow Publications website at www.affinityebooks.com

  Annette loves to hear from readers. Contact her at annettemori0859@gmail.com or visit her blog at https://annettemori0859.wordpress.com/

  Weather or Not

  Jaycie Morrison

  Every Texan knows there’re things about this place that don’t change and there’re things that do. One of the things that can change very quickly is the weather. Imagine throwing a tennis ball as high as you can, and by the time gravity has brought it back, the thermometer has dropped thirty degrees. That’s what we call a blue north
er. My fondness for this unusual meteorological phenomenon started with a camping trip the fall I’d turned seventeen, a year that altered my life even more spectacularly than that kind of temperature change.

  I’d earned lots of skill pins during my years with Scouting Girls, but I knew such fun activities would have to be set aside as I focused on my future. My college plans required I keep my grades up and prepare for admissions tests. Still, I needed just one more pin to complete my outdoor set. To qualify for Wilderness Subsistence meant surviving two days and nights of tent camping, alone—something I knew I’d enjoy.

  When I blew into our monthly SG meeting, a little late as usual, I found two surprises. The first was notice of a campout Mrs. Rush had on her flip chart. The timing was perfect to get that last pin, and I couldn’t help smiling. The other surprise was sitting next to Mrs. Rush. “Now that everyone is here, let me introduce Katie Everson. Katie’s family is new in town. Why don’t you tell us a little bit about yourself, Katie?”

  Looking around, Katie rose gracefully with a confident smile. When her gaze found my face, it caressed me like the soft warmth of an early summer day. She started talking, but I zoned out after she said, “Los Angeles,” because she fit the California girl image to a T. Blond and tanned with blue eyes, she was a few inches taller than me with a more mature and shapely body, too. Always self-conscious around pretty girls, I pushed my hands through my short, dark hair, catching a hint of amusement in her closing words. “So I think becoming a Texas Scouting Girl will be a fun change for me.”

  Above the scattered applause, I heard Mrs. Rush’s voice saying, “Jules, please introduce Katie around and get her some refreshments before we start.” Our advisor never missed a chance to help me be more sociable. Suppressing my nerves, I pasted on a smile and held out my hand. “Hi. I’m Julia Willis, but everyone calls me Jules.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jules,” she said, her voice softening around my name. Up close, Katie wasn’t just attractive—she was movie-star striking. When I realized I was still shaking her hand, I cleared my throat and escorted her toward the rest of the group. Once a dozen or so names were exchanged, I was able to get away to the punch bowl and settle myself with a cookie as Amber Lintz bragged about her progress on the diamond star pin. As I observed Katie’s reaction, she seemed to sense my gaze. Turning slightly in my direction, her expression pleaded for rescue. I stifled a laugh as I joined them, cutting into the one-sided conversation. “Hey, Amber. Let’s let our new Scouting Girl meet the rest of the outfit, too.”

  Shooting me an irritated glance, Amber concluded, “So talk to me when you’re starting on your diamond star, Katie. I’m more than willing to help.”

  I handed Katie her snacks, and we started toward another group. “I’ll bet diamonds are the only thing that will ever make Amber willing,” Katie murmured, and the astute double-entendre almost made me blow punch out of my nose. Patting my back while I recovered, she asked, “Did you get stuck doing hostess duties because you were late?”

  I coughed once more. “No. Mrs. Rush knows I’ll always be a bit late.” When she raised an eyebrow, I added, “I’m in after-school tutoring.”

  “Giving or receiving?” she asked with a half-smile.

  “Both,” I mumbled, readying myself for the usual geek or nerd comments.

  Instead, Katie looked me over. “Smart and cute. That’s my favorite combination.”

  Heat rose up my neck, but before I could reply—not that I could have said anything intelligent—the meeting was called to order. When Katie squeezed in alongside me so another girl could stand between her and Amber, I became aware of her scent. Spicy but with a hint of vanilla. She smelled good enough to eat, and I closed my eyes, wondering how she would taste. What the hell, Jules? I rebuked myself for the inappropriate thoughts and then added a second scolding for the cuss word, dropping a pretend quarter into my mind’s swear jar. Scouting Girls weren’t supposed to curse.

  “We’re taking a cancellation at Rocky Landing just three weeks from now,” Mrs. Rush announced, referring to an SG camp about three hours away. “Those attempting the Wilderness Subsistence pin will be set up one mile apart and two miles from our main camp. Return your parent permission slips next Thursday.” Mrs. Rush waved a sheaf of papers.

  Katie turned to me, her face so close I could see a few scattered freckles across her cheeks and little flecks of silver in her blue eyes. Her nearness rekindled my earlier blush into a warm front that drifted somewhere south of my navel. “Are you doing that wilderness thing?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I managed. “Are you?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” she said, her eyes searching mine. Something she saw caused a slight smile to play across her mouth, and I was enchanted. Even void of makeup, her lips were a beautiful Texas sunset pink. Sweet.

  “Jules, I know you want this.” Mrs. Rush’s words were so accurate I almost gasped before realizing she meant the permission slip. Katie took one, too, and Mrs. Rush handed me remainders. “Would you please give these out?”

  Katie was gone when I finished, and I persuaded myself whatever spark I’d sensed was just wishful thinking. But at the next SG meeting, as I struggled to dig the permission slip from the back pocket of my tight, faded jeans, a voice close to my ear asked, “Do you need some help?” The touch was so light I might have imagined it, or maybe Katie Everson actually had just fondled my ass.

  “Are you really offering?” I was almost holding my breath at the question.

  “Duh,” she whispered. “Maybe you’re not so smart, Tex.”

  I stiffened slightly. Not even teen model look-alikes got away with insulting a resident of the Lone Star State. “Or maybe I’m just not interested in your granola, Left Coast.”

  She burst out laughing, earning us both a stern glance from Mrs. Rush. Amber collected our forms, and the five of us who were going for the Subsistence pin gathered around the kitchen table to discuss how much water we would need and the best brands of freeze-dried meals.

  When the meeting was over, Katie tugged on my backpack. “Let’s get some coffee. I’ll drive.”

  Plans to study for my chemistry test vanished like ice in August. “You have a car? Of your own?”

  “Uh huh, along with a valid license and insurance. Have I tempted you yet?”

  Actually...yeah. I mustered my best drawl. “Why, yes ma’am, I believe you have.” I really liked the way she laughed.

  Over coffee, she proved to be quick witted without being a showoff and funny without being cutting. We shifted easily from the silly mannerisms of her adored younger sister to favorite movies we’d seen. I was interested in her experience with online classes, and she giggled when I told a tall tale about our town’s history in my Texas persona. Rising to get us a refill, she said, “Y’all wait right there,” in such a terribly replicated twang that I snorted with amusement. But when she came back with sandwiches and chips, I was embarrassed she’d heard my growling stomach and reached into my pocket. “I could pay—”

  Putting the food in front of me, she leaned so close her breasts were just inches from my face. “You know Jules, you’ll never get what you want if you don’t ask for it.” I heated up like someone getting into a car that had been left in the summer sun with the windows up. After eating quietly for a few minutes, she asked about Texas politics, and we were off again. I was having such a good time that it wasn’t until we hit the topic of college plans that I thought to glance at the clock. Quickly I drained my second cup. “I gotta hit the books, missy. Can you drop me off at the library?”

  “Sure.”

  She was strangely quiet until we parked. Confused, I waited a few seconds before reaching for the handle. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  Her hand on my arm stopped me. “Uh, Jules? I’m really not ready for this wilderness thing. Do you think you could help me shop for some gear this weekend?”

  Did granola girls not go camping? Could Katie endure Wilderness Subsistence?
When I looked over, she whined a little with the most perfect hopeful puppy expression I’d ever seen. I couldn’t help laughing. “Why, it would be my pleasure, little lady.” Her smile validated that the drawl would be my go-to with her. “Let’s meet at Pete’s Sporting Goods on Saturday.” I frowned, trying to work out a plan. “But I have a school thing so I’m not sure what time...”

  “Give me your phone and I’ll put in my number, so you can let me know.”

  “Uh, it’s been dead since lunch.” Damn snake game, I thought as I paid the swear jar again.

  An eye roll. “Then give me your hand.”

  “What?”

  She emphasized her waiting palm with each word. “Give...me…your…hand.”

  I did. She scribbled something starting at my middle finger and going almost to my wrist. A tingle went up my arm, but I managed to hold still. “That’s my cell. Call when you’re available.”

  She smiled, and the tingling moved several floors lower. I smiled back. “Yeah, okay. Thanks again for dinner. And for the ride.”

  “Study hard.” She gave my hand a little shake before letting go. “Make me proud.”

  I memorized that number before even cracking open my chemistry notes.