Crossroads

Chapter Twenty-two

Hollis didn’t believe Annie was really going to kiss her, but at the last second, she did. Hollis’s mind went completely blank. She’d been raised to think on her feet—indoctrinated by a family of alpha males and one iron-willed matriarch to bounce back no matter what came her way, to keep a clear head, to fear nothing. She’d chosen a career that tested her a hundred times a day. She didn’t falter when faced with unexpected situations, never panicked at critical junctures where her wrong decision could mean the difference between success and unimaginable disaster. And now she couldn’t think. Couldn’t move—all because the warmest, softest, sweetest lips she’d ever known whispered over hers.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, at least it felt as if her heart stopped for that long, but when Annie drew back it had probably only been a second or two. Hollis blinked and the sun was still in the same position hanging low over the horizon. Her hearing returned and she was surrounded by the sounds of children laughing, dogs barking, the murmur of conversation floating across the pond. Callie still crouched at the water’s edge, carefully tossing food to the ducks. Everything was exactly as it had been, only everything had changed.

Annie’s face was inches away, so close the amber flecks in her deep green irises glowed with reflected sunlight. Her lips were still parted, moist and full. Hollis held her breath, absorbing the roaring in her head into every cell. Imprinting the memory.

“Well,” Annie said with merest hint of breathlessness, “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I,” Hollis said, and her voice sounded rusty and unused. She glanced down and saw Annie’s fingers curled around her wrist. She didn’t remember Annie’s hand moving from her neck. The press of Annie’s fingertips to her nape still radiated in warm currents down her spine. She quivered inside and her hips tensed in anticipation. She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through Annie’s. The kiss had ended, but something else had begun—something she was afraid to examine and terrified of losing. “I don’t even have a next move.”

“Well,” Annie said again, color rising into her face. Her neck flushed a delicate rose as far down as the pale skin in the open collar of her white shirt. “Should I apologize?”

“I can’t imagine what for.” Hollis pictured the silky skin of Annie’s throat under her lips, imagined kissing her way down to that soft, pink expanse framed by the snow-white triangle of Annie’s shirt. Her fingers trembled to caress flesh. Her thighs tensed with sudden pressure. Her nipples peaked, hard and aching. Such a delicate kiss and she was burning.

“I didn’t think if you wanted—”

“I wanted,” Hollis said quickly. “Oh yeah, I most definitely wanted.”

“That’s good, then.” Annie smiled crookedly.

“Yeah. Good. Excellent.” Hollis ached to kiss her back. She didn’t. She’d never be able to kiss her for just a brief second, and they were outside surrounded by kids and dogs and ducks and Callie was fifteen feet away. She wanted Annie naked, she wanted her undone. No, she definitely couldn’t kiss her out here. Maybe not anywhere until she found her sanity. “Why?”

“Why what?”

Annie still hadn’t moved away and her body swayed toward Hollis. If Hollis leaned just a little, Annie’s breasts would…

Hollis sucked in a breath and edged away a fraction. “What made you…you know…just now.”

“Oh.” Annie laughed and pursed her lips. “You looked like you needed a kiss. A little tired, a little sad. You’re usually so indomitable.”

“Wow. That’s…it wasn’t a pity kiss or anything, was it?”

Annie’s eyes widened. “I’m not doing this right at all. I needed to kiss you—I couldn’t help it. You…make me feel all sorts of things I don’t usually feel.”

Relief and pleasure stirred in Hollis’s belly. “Is that right.”

“That’s very right.” Annie laughed.

The husky, sexy sound went straight to Hollis’s groin. At this rate she was going to burst into flames. “Jesus, Annie, have a heart here.”

“What?” Annie asked in a tone that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing.

“You have a really sexy laugh.”

Annie caught her lower lip between her teeth, an altogether innocent move that had Hollis’s thighs twitching.

“About the kiss. One more thing,” Annie said.

“What?” Hollis managed to get out.

“I really like your ass.”

Hollis felt her mouth drop open. “Okay. You took me by surprise before, but now I’m speechless.”

Annie’s smile grew into a look of playful satisfaction. “What? You’ve never had a woman tell you you’ve got a great ass before?”

“Uh…” Hollis shook her head. “Actually, no.”

“Well, you’ve been wasting your time on women who don’t deserve you, then.”

Hollis grinned. “Maybe so. Whatever the reason, thanks.”

“Thanks?”

“For the kiss.”

“I wasn’t kidding about wanting to kiss you.” Annie shook her head. “I’m tired of not admitting what I feel. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for days.”

Hollis kissed Annie’s knuckles. “I’m not tired or sad now. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

“You know,” Annie said, looking suddenly serious, “I was thinking while you were telling me about your patient today, that it’s not fair to put those kinds of decisions on you. It’s not fair that you have to accept the anger and pain and displaced blame from patients like me.”

“It’s not about being fair. I signed up for it,” Hollis said.

Annie smiled wistfully. “I doubt very much you signed up for guilt by proxy.”

Hollis brushed her thumb over the corner of Annie’s mouth. “Annie, you have every right to be hurt and angry and disappointed about what happened to you. None of what you went through was fair, and I’m part of that. I know when you look at me, you think about that night.” She blew out a breath. “I wish we could go back—”

“No.” Annie pressed her fingers to Hollis’s mouth. “No. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want the past crowding into the present any longer, but I don’t know how to change it.”

“That kiss was a nice start.”

Annie glanced down the slope. Callie was still engrossed with the gaggle of ducks that paddled back and forth in the shallow water a few feet in front of her, plucking seeds and corn from the surface of the water. “I guess my timing could have been better.”

“Your timing is great.” Hollis shrugged. “Well, almost perfect.”

“Oh?”

“I could’ve done with an hour or so more of that kiss.”

Annie’s face flooded with heat and she swallowed. So could she. She wanted more right now. She wanted her hands in Hollis’s hair again, she wanted to see that dazed look in Hollis’s eyes and know she put it there. That idea was so far from anything she’d ever desired, she couldn’t even find a context for it. “I’m not sure I have a worthy follow-up.”

“After a kiss like that, I find that hard to believe.”

“The kiss was barely a kiss.”

“Oh no, it was definitely a kiss.” Hollis inched closer until her thigh brushed Annie’s, her face inches away, her eyes dark and intense. “And I’d like more.”

“Should we talk about work? Is this a problem?” Annie half hated herself for asking, but she had to. She had to find her footing in a landscape she no longer recognized.

“Work is work. This doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Neither one of us can leave work at the office,” Annie said. “That’s not what we do. It’s not who we are.”

“This doesn’t have to interfere.”

“I don’t even know what this is.”

“Then let’s find out.”

“We should have a date. Shouldn’t we?” Annie asked.

Hollis grinned and she looked younger, and impossibly beautiful.

“What? What did I say?” Annie desperately wanted to kiss her again. Why did they have to be outside surrounded by people? And Callie?

“I like you taking charge,” Hollis murmured.

“I’m hardly doing that,” Annie said, growing more self-conscious every second. She really didn’t know what she was doing. Her infrequent dates were more group things with friends, where she was unofficially paired off with someone and could keep her distance, not a one-on-one evening out. Keeping Hollis at a distance had been impossible from the start. And she didn’t want to. “I could probably get a sitter Saturday night. We could go—”

“Damn,” Hollis said. “I already—”

“That’s all right,” Annie said hastily. Saturday night, of course Hollis would have plans. Just because she was free every night didn’t mean someone as desirable as Hollis would be. “I’m being presumptuous. I—”

“Annie,” Hollis said firmly, “I’m having dinner with Honor Blake and her family. Come with me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? They’re neighbors. You know Honor.” Hollis rubbed her palm over Annie’s arm. “It’s just dinner with friends. Please. I want to see you.”

“Hollis, there’s something you should know.”

Hollis regarded her steadily, calmly. “Okay.”

“I…” Annie sighed, not even sure what she wanted to say. “I’m not at all sure this is a good idea.”

“I know. Neither am I. We’ll take it nice and slow.” Hollis glanced quickly at Callie and kissed Annie before Annie knew what was happening.

Hollis’s mouth was soft but sure, her lips moving with silky pressure over Annie’s. She tasted of sunlight and spice, and Annie was suddenly famished. She nodded, her mouth still against Hollis’s.

“Okay?” Hollis drew back reluctantly, wondering how she was ever going to be able to take it slow.

“Okay,” Annie breathed. Tonight, for just this moment, she didn’t have to know what she was doing. She glanced toward the water and Callie. “I ought to get her home.” She smiled. “You look like you could use a bit of a nap too.”

“I haven’t been tired since the second I saw you pull up. What do you say we go bicycle shopping Saturday sometime.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

Annie nodded, ridiculously pleased to be seeing Hollis again so soon. “You relax right now. I’ll clean this up.”

“Actually,” Hollis said, rising, “I think I’ll feed some ducks.”

The sound of Callie’s laughter and the deep, sensuous tone of Hollis’s voice kept distracting Annie while she wrapped leftovers and collected trash. She paused to watch Hollis point something out to Callie in the water, saw Hollis cradle the back of Callie’s neck in a casually protective gesture, felt her heart twist. When she had everything together, she joined them.

“Look, Mommy. Tadpoles.” Callie pointed at dozens of tiny torpedo shapes darting furiously in the shallow waters by the edge of the pond. “Baby frogs.”

“Wow, look at them all,” Annie said, smiling at Hollis.

“By the end of the summer they’ll be as big as Kermit.” Callie looked at Hollis. “Right?”

“Some of them,” Hollis said. “Yep.”

“We’ll have to watch them and see,” Annie said. She took Callie’s hand and they walked back to Hollis’s. After she buckled Callie in and stowed away the food bags, she turned to Hollis, who stood by the side of the car waiting. “Well, why don’t you call if you’re free—”

Hollis mouth covered hers with possessive insistence, hot and just short of bruising. This kiss was nothing like the first time Hollis had kissed her—that had been tender and gently searching. This was sure and claiming. Annie swayed and gripped Hollis’s scrub shirt in both hands. Arms came around her waist, dragged her close. Hollis’s chest was firm, her thighs lean and tight.

Annie pulled away. “Can’t breathe.”

“Sorry,” Hollis muttered, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“I’m not. Just—” Annie kissed her, one hand sliding into her hair, the other grasping her shoulder. The world dissolved in color—brilliant reds, sensuous purples, mesmerizing greens. She was falling, floating, swirling. Annie broke the kiss, releasing Hollis’s arm and grabbing the top of the open door to steady herself. “Saturday?”

“Yes.”

Hollis looked as if she was going to kiss her again. If she hadn’t had Callie with her, she might have let her, and that was probably a very bad idea. She needed time to get a hold on reality again. She stroked Hollis’s jaw. “Call me.”

“I will.”

“Good night, Hollis.”

“Good night, Annie.”

Hollis didn’t move, and Annie was careful not to touch her as she closed the door and skirted the front of the car to the driver’s side. She really didn’t trust herself right now—and that was new. New and confusing and thrilling. As she drove away she looked into the rearview mirror.

Hollis was still watching.

*

When Honor walked in, the house was quiet. She smelled dinner but she didn’t hear the kids. She dropped her bag by the sofa on her way through the living room. “Phyllis?”

Quinn was in the kitchen, barefoot in jeans and a faded red T-shirt, putting aluminum foil over casserole dishes that sat on the counter.

“Hi.” Honor slid her arms around Quinn from behind and kissed the side of her neck, snuggling up against her. “I didn’t expect you to be home so early. Where’s Phyllis?”

“She’s next door with Jack.” Quinn turned and leaned back against the counter, pulling Honor into her arms as she moved.

“All night?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Honor threaded her arms around Quinn’s neck and kissed her properly. When she finished, she murmured, “Where’s Arly?”

Quinn grinned. “Sleepover at Angie’s. Spontaneous thing after soccer practice. I said yes.”

“Who’s chaperoning?”

“Missy Frangipani and Donna Brundage.”

“Lord bless them.”

Quinn chuckled. “So that leaves you and me.”

“I notice you just put dinner on hold.” Honor kissed Quinn’s chin. The slow stir of anticipation was familiar, familiar, but ever new.

“It should stay warm for at least an hour.”

“Maybe two.”

Quinn cradled the back of Honor’s head, wrapping a handful of hair around her fingers, tugging gently until Honor’s chin came up. She kissed her throat and worked her way down, opening Honor’s shirt with the other hand. She kissed between her breasts and slipped open her bra. Slowly she moved her mouth over the slope of Honor’s breast and bit lightly at her nipple. Honor’s fingers tightened on her shoulders.

“Quinn,” Honor warned. “Dangerous. Very dangerous.”

“Not so much,” Quinn murmured, and turned Honor until her back was to the counter. Sliding her hand lower, she opened Honor’s narrow leather belt, then the button on her pants, then the zipper.

Honor’s breath came faster, her vision tunneling until the room disappeared and all that remained was the sunlight on the side of Quinn’s face. She ran her fingers through Quinn’s dark hair. “I love you.”

Quinn knelt and looked up, her smile lazy and powerful. “I love you. Hold on.”

Honor gripped the counter and watched Quinn lower her clothes and push them away. She watched Quinn run her hands over her abdomen and down the outsides of her thighs, trailing up her calves and between her legs. She watched Quinn’s mouth skim over her skin, tenderly, possessively, lifting her higher as she kissed ever lower. She watched Quinn take her in, take her home. She watched until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, but she saw Quinn, in her mind, in her heart. She always saw Quinn.

Quinn stood and scooped Honor into her arms, cradling her close and walking back a few steps to a chair at the long kitchen table. She sat and cradled Honor in her lap. “Welcome home, by the way.”

Honor kissed her neck and sighed. “A very nice welcome home too.”

“Think you can make it upstairs?”

“I need thirty seconds until I find my legs again.”

Quinn chuckled. “Take your time. We’ve got all night.”

“I know. A miracle.” She rested her cheek on Quinn’s shoulder. “I invited Hollis Monroe to come over Saturday. Dinner.”

“Okay. I told Robin to come over with Linda and the kids too. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“Don’t see why it should be. We’re all neighbors.”

“Good enough, then.”

“Let me try standing,” Honor said, kissing Quinn’s jaw. “I want you upstairs, naked, so I can have my way with you.”

“If you can’t make it, I’ll carry you,” Quinn said fervently.

Honor laughed and took her hand. “I’m quite sure I can manage.”