“I find it very hard to believe a woman as beautiful and as sexy as you has never…” Meg’s incredulity showed on her face. “God, I’m being an asshole. It’s just, well… you know what I mean, right?”
Sexy and beautiful? A flock of birds took flight in her stomach, but she shrugged her shoulders. “Like I said, I shut down.”
“Surely you’ve dated?”
Fiona shook her head. “Not much. I wasn’t into it.”
“Even if you weren’t into it, other people must have asked you out.” Meg tried again. “How did you keep them away?”
Fiona was flattered at Meg’s disbelief.
“Contrary to what you may think, I haven’t been swarmed by interested parties. And the few who did ask, I wasn’t interested in.” Fiona shrugged.
“I can’t believe I’m going to even ask this.” Meg rolled her eyes and paused as if she wondered if she should continue. “But, if you haven’t been attracted to any women, and besides those mostly innocent occasions with Tammy… are you sure you’re a lesbian?” Meg quickly rushed on. “I know my question is unevolved and offensive. And judging by the look on your face, you do too. But I find it so completely beyond any kind of reasonable understanding that someone as remarkable, beautiful, sexy, and smart as you hasn’t had a parade of people knocking at her door. At least one woman should have made it through!”
Meg looked so adorable in her earnestness, and she’d called her sexy again. A surge of excitement flared through her entire body. “I’m absolutely, one hundred percent sure I’m a lesbian. And while I find it flattering you think women would flock to me, they don’t.”
“Wow. They are so missing out.” Meg looked astonished, which was flattering.
Fiona pushed Meg’s shoulder. “Now you’re projecting.”
Meg looked amused. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’ve probably been with scads of people.” Meg’s eyebrows rose.
Shit. That sounded bad. “Yikes! Let me try again. You’re such a wonderful, smart, beautiful, sexy, outgoing, beautiful… did I say beautiful already? It doesn’t matter... but, you’re everything I said, and so much more. I know you have your pick of women, and I am positive several of those women—but not too many,” she added, holding out her hands, “must have been successful in talking you into their beds.”
Meg blushed. “Not really. I went a bit wild when I first started college. At least for me, but not like most of my friends.”
“I’m surprised.” Fiona was enthralled, even as a small wisp of jealousy snuck in.
“The lesbian dating pool was relatively small in college. Larger than my high school, but a little too incestuous for me. It didn’t take long for everyone to have dated someone I knew. I had a few relationships, but I didn’t get around as much as some of my friends.” Meg hesitated before she added, “I think once I got the sex-for-sex’s-sake thing out of my system, I decided it should be about love, or at least on the road to potential love. At least for me.”
Fiona wondered what it would be like to make love to Meg and her entire body responded, some places more than others. “How many times have you been in love?”
Meg blew out some air, but she was smiling. “This conversation has run the gamut on deepness, hasn’t it?”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” She hoped she would, though.
Meg tilted her head. “I thought I was a couple of times, but realized it was wishful thinking. I’m still waiting.”
A faint meow interrupted the conversation, followed by another.
“I’ll feed them, if you poop them.” Fiona offered.
“Is it just me, or have we skipped the whole romance thing and jumped right into the taking-care-of-a-house-full-of-kids part?” Meg asked as they got up.
Fiona didn’t skip a beat. “I have to admit, pooping kittens never factored into any fantasies I’ve ever had about finally getting a beautiful woman into my bed,” she said with a gentle pat on Meg’s back, and then walked into the kitchen to get the formula ready.
46
Meg stood where she was for a moment. Her stomach did a flip, before a flutter rose up in her chest. Had Fiona said she fantasized about her? She forced her legs to move toward the bathroom.
“Hey, can you grab a fresh towel for me while I heat this up?” Fiona called from the kitchen, popping her head out from behind the refrigerator door. “They’re in the bathroom closet.”
“Sure thing, boss lady.” She was surprised her voice sounded normal.
The bathroom was large for such a small apartment, and the linen closet took up half of one wall. There were several doors and drawers for storage, and with her mind on everything they’d just talked about, Meg simply opened the nearest door. It didn’t contain the towels, but it did contain some interesting bottles and jars. Absentmindedly, as she went over their discussion in her head, she lifted a bottle of lotion and squirted some onto her palm. The scent of sage and lavender filled the air. It smelled deliciously like Fiona. In an uncharacteristic display of nosiness, she continued her voyeuristic exploration of the cabinet. A stacked row of decorative tins took up one of the shelves. Curious, she picked one up. The first contained hair clips and bands. Another contained a few cosmetics and nail polish. Yet another had an assortment of loose buttons. The contents were less intriguing than the actual collection of tins, and far less intriguing than their owner. She grabbed the last tin from the stack she’d been snooping in and opened it, glancing toward the empty doorway. In the bottom, nestled on a silk cloth, was a vibrator. A simple, nothing fancy, twist-to-operate, battery-powered vibrator—but it was Fiona’s. Her center tightened as erotic images of Fiona flashed through her mind. She quietly returned the tin to the bottom of the stack in the cabinet and shut the door. Feeling a bit guilty, she was happy to have fodder for fantasies for days now.
Distracted by her thoughts, Meg sidestepped to the cabinet door closest to the shower, where she found a neat stack of towels. She grabbed one and turned to leave, but the entire stack of towels tumbled to the floor. The towel-valanche wasn’t enough to divert Meg’s wandering thoughts from a certain tin, and she was thinking about its contents and the woman in the next room when she knelt down to refold the half-dozen towels scattered at her feet. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Fiona spoke to her from only inches away.
“I wondered what was taking you so long.” Fiona knelt next to Meg and helped her with the towels. “I was going to tease you about snooping.”
“Snoop? Me?” She hoped she didn’t sound guilty.
Fiona grinned. “I know—you aren’t as devious as me.”
She snorted self-consciously. Had Fiona seen her? She hadn’t kept a very good eye on the door.
“If we were at your house, I’d snoop.” Fiona winked at her, stuffing the stack of towels back into the cupboard.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m a total voyeur. You can tell so much about a person from the contents of their medicine cabinet. So, feel free to snoop away if you want. I’ll warn you, though. I’m boring. There’s not much to get worked up about. No exotic pills or unguents. Maybe some hemorrhoid cream, but that’s for the dark circles under my eyes—I swear!”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” Meg teased.
“It’s sad but true. Unless you count my vibrator in a box on the other shelf. Boring stuff.”
Meg nearly dropped the towel. “So boring.” Was her voice a little higher than usual? She refolded the towel.
Fiona put her hands on her hips. “Don’t judge. I have some erotica in my nightstand. You might find some links to some spicy websites on my browser history, too… Although it’s been so long, I’m sure I’ve cleared that history by now.” Fiona dropped her hands and sighed. “Okay, I admit it, I’m not a very interesting snoopee.”
If Meg hadn’t had
a towel tucked under her chin folding it, her jaw would have dropped to the floor.
She cleared her throat. “Thanks for the full disclosure.” God, she was turned on. Boring, her ass! She turned to make sure the cupboard was closed in an effort to restore her composure. “Feel free to browse my drawers anytime.”
They searched each other’s eyes and then burst out in laughter. The double entendre hadn’t even been funny, but it helped to break a little of the tension building between them. Taking a deep breath, Meg walked unsteadily back to the living room.
47
Kitten duty had become a well-mapped out routine. While Fiona got the bottles ready, Meg took the kittens out of the box and got them arranged on her lap where she played with them as Fiona fed them one by one. Meg would clean each of their little mouths off after they’d finished eating and place them back in the box to sleep through their food coma. Once all the kittens had fed, Fiona took the bottles back to the kitchen, while Meg took the kittens into the bathroom to poop them. Finally, Fiona turned off the lights in the living room while Meg tidied up from poop duty.
They hadn’t discussed the night’s sleeping arrangements, and Fiona didn’t want to assume anything just because Meg had slept in her bed the night before. After a moment of indecision, Fiona headed for the bedroom, hoping Meg would come find her. Nervousness danced in the pit of her stomach as she changed into a tank top and boxers.
She sat on the edge of the bed in the muted light of the bedside lamp and rubbed lotion onto her arms. When she looked up, Meg stood outside the door, the box of kittens in her arms.
“Ready for bed, stalker lady?” Fiona’s heart thudded like a jackhammer. She didn’t have any expectations, but she knew what she wanted, even if it wasn’t a good idea.
Meg shifted the box in her arms. “I was just coming to say goodnight.”
“Why are you doing it from out there? Come in here.” She put the lotion bottle back on the nightstand. “I’m not going to demote you to the sofa simply because I’m no longer a basket case. What kind of host do you think I am?”
Meg laughed, but looked undecided, so Fiona got up and took the box from her, putting it on the floor at the foot of the bed. She went back to where she’d been sitting and put some lotion on her legs. Meg walked around the bed to the other side. When Fiona looked over her shoulder, Meg had stripped down to her tank top and panties.
“Do you want some jammies?” she asked.
Meg slid into bed beneath the feather comforter. “I’m good. Unless you’d prefer I wear something else.”
Fiona turned off the light. “I want you to be comfortable.”
“This is fine.” Meg sighed as she settled in under the covers. “Your bed is so comfortable. It makes the bed at Aunt Vi’s feel like a slab of concrete.”
A boom went off outside and Fiona wondered what it was until a flash of red followed by blue outlined the blinds in her bedroom window. Fireworks! She’d almost forgotten.
“They set them off over the Hudson,” Fiona said. The pops and booms sounded like they were right outside her window.
It had taken all of her will to keep her eyes open while she fed the kittens, but now she wasn’t sure she was ready to sleep. She crawled into bed and rolled over to face Meg. As the comforter settled over them, she could smell Meg’s scent, a mix of something herbal and sandalwood.
“I’ve decided to keep the baby.” It just came out, although she hadn’t planned on saying anything yet, wanting to wait to see if the decision stuck. Apparently it had.
Meg rolled onto her side and studied her. “I knew something major had happened. You have a happy, glimmery thing going on.”
Fiona couldn’t hide her smile. “I do?”
Meg nodded with a smile and reached out with both arms. When Fiona settled in her arms, her head lying in the curve of Meg’s arm and chest, Meg rested her cheek against her forehead and stroked her hair. It was a delicious feeling—both the relief of telling Meg she was keeping the baby and being held so affectionately. She couldn’t remember a better feeling.
“Congratulations, Fiona. You’re going to make a great mother,” Meg whispered.
Fiona didn’t think she had any expectations, but she realized she had been worried about Meg’s reaction. A wave of relief flowed through her and she began to cry, but her tears held no trace of the fear or sadness she’d been struggling with the past several days. She had decided to embrace the unexpected and to jump into the unknown with eyes, arms, and heart wide open. And jumping without a net to catch her was the most liberating feeling she had ever experienced. When Meg squeezed her tight, she couldn’t imagine sharing the moment with anyone else.
48
The warm softness of Fiona in her arms was intoxicating. Meg didn’t know how she found the courage to do it when she opened her arms to her. Only seconds before, she’d been tight as a drumskin, with sleep a million miles away, wondering how she was going to get close to Fiona without being weird about it. The night before had been natural. Fiona had been upset and she’d comforted her. Tonight was different. The day of thinking had obviously been good for her; this was the most relaxed Meg had ever seen her. She’d had a softness about her all evening, like she was lit from within. And that was a problem.
She liked Fiona. Like, really liked her. It was bad. So many things stood in the way of anything happening between them, but Meg was feeling things she shouldn’t feel.
When Meg stood outside the bedroom watching her, she thought she was going to ignite. Dressed in nothing but the tank top and boxers, Fiona was a goddess. Knowing her feelings were wrong, Meg had every intention of bunking it on the couch, but Fiona had been firm about her sleeping in the bed with her. How could she say no? She knew she was justifying things, and it was wrong to want someone who was having such a hard time, but Meg couldn’t help it. She’d probably never do anything about it, what with everything stacked against them, but it didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends, right? Friends who maybe cuddled sometimes.
Now, she was holding her and Fiona seemed lighter and happier than she’d ever seen her. For a minute, when Fiona had started to cry, Meg had worried the lightness had faded, but it turned out to be relief, and Meg couldn’t blame her. Her life was going to take a whole new trajectory now, but it was her decision. Meg couldn’t help but feel happy for Fiona. She wished she could be around to see how it all played out for her.
Fiona snuggled in closer, wrapping her arm around her, draping her leg over hers. The closeness was glorious but she wanted to be closer. An ache pulsed through her. What were they becoming to one another? She didn’t know, but her fingers itched to touch her, to feel her. She stroked Fiona’s thick hair and held her, kissing her head, breathing deeply. Fiona’s body relaxed, her breathing growing slower and deeper. Was it possible she was asleep?
Meg adjusted slightly against Fiona and sighed. She could lie there and hold her forever. It was the last thing Meg remembered thinking before she drifted off, too.
49
Soft morning light illuminated the bedroom and Fiona tightened her embrace around the form pressed against her, nestling into the softness. Breathing in the scent of Meg, she drifted contentedly between sleep and awake, erotic warmth swirling around the edges of her consciousness. She pressed her hips closer, seeking pressure against the gentle pulse trembling between her legs. The space between awake and asleep held her captive. A smile played across her lips as she nuzzled into Meg, before she dipped back into the drowsier end of the sea of sleep in which she floated.
When Fiona reluctantly began to surface from her sleepy cocoon, it took several minutes for her to realize she wasn’t next to Meg at all, but rather the pillow Meg had slept upon. Her disappointment was acute. Trying to keep the fantasy alive, she kept her head buried in the Meg-scented pillow and extended a tentative arm, seeking the warmth of the woman who shared her bed and dreams.
Not so much as a warm body-shaped indent met her seeking fingers. She propped herself up on one arm and looked blurrily around the empty bedroom. Her disappointment wrecked her, and Fiona buried herself in the pillow and tried to conjure back her rapidly fading dream. It was no good. The details were little more than vapor, but the sensations surging through her body were real and urgent. Unable to quell her feelings, Fiona groaned and rolled out of bed.
She expected to find Meg sitting on the floor feeding the kittens when she entered the living room, but Meg wasn’t there. And after a brief search of her tiny apartment, Fiona realized Meg was nowhere to be found. The letdown was brutal. She had never yearned for the touch of another person as she had in those moments upon first waking. Loneliness enveloped Fiona like a cold cloak, yet her body still throbbed with desire. She considered going back to bed to attend to the almost painful ache, but she knew that wouldn’t satisfy her longing.
She wanted Meg.
The note left on the table was some consolation, although it did little to dispel her loneliness and frustration. No one liked to wake up without a good-bye from their overnight guest—even if nothing had happened. Meg’s neatly printed message said she wanted to get a run in before work, but that she’d be off work at five and that Fiona should call her. Fiona had the day off and wondered what she was going to do with it.
The minutes slid by at glacial speed. Fiona passed the time tending to the kittens, ignoring more texts from Mike, and shuffling half-heartedly through her caseload. It didn’t take long before she found herself second-guessing whether she should call Meg, even though Meg had specifically asked her to. Was she being nice? Did she want to see her? Or was it just a check-in? She wasn’t anyone’s responsibility.
Without a Net Page 21
