Prescription For Love

“What if I said I wanted more than kisses,” Abby said, feeling reckless and not caring. She wanted kisses and more, and wondered why Flann had stopped.

“I’d say that could definitely be dangerous.” Flann smiled. “And there’s no rush.”

Abby frowned. When had she become the one who wanted more, right now? Since when did Flann want slow? “I—”

The front gate banged open and Margie and Blake ambled up the walk, talking in animated tones about something someone had said about a concert. Abby steadied her breath, tried to still the pounding of her heart.

Flann rose. “Thanks for inviting me to dinner. I enjoyed it more than I can say.”

Abby stood too, conscious of Blake and Margie on the walk a few feet away. “It was wonderful. Thank you for the day.”

“Good night,” Flann murmured.

“Good night.”

Flann was already down the steps and slung an arm around Margie’s shoulders. “Come on, we’ll get your bike in the back of the Jeep, and I’ll take you home.”

Margie called, “See you at the barn raising.”

“I’ll call you,” Blake said.

Abby waited until Flann drove away, leaning on the porch post and thinking about all the things she hadn’t realized she wanted until now. She picked up the empty wine bottle and Flann’s empty glass, found hers, and swallowed the last few drops.

“I saw the two of you kissing, out by the grill,” Blake said quietly.

“Did it bother you?” Abby laughed softly. “More than the usual embarrassment when you come face-to-face with the fact that your parent has a romantic life?”

Blake snorted. “I think that was more than romance.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

“No, it didn’t bother me. I like Flann a lot. I guess you do too.”

“I do like her. I’m glad you feel the same.” Abby hesitated. “What about you and Margie? Are you…romantically interested too?”

Even in the dim moonlight, Blake’s chagrin was clear. “No, Mom. Jeez. We’re friends.”

“Well, okay. I was just wondering. I can tell you’re really close friends, and I’m glad about that. I just wasn’t sure if it was…more.”

“I’m not ready to have a girlfriend,” Blake said. “Or a boyfriend, or whatever.”

“Right,” Abby said, “or whatever.” She slid her arm around his shoulders and hugged him. “Whenever you want to talk about it, let me know.”

“Same goes,” Blake said.

Abby gave him a little push toward the house. “Smart-ass.”

But she was very glad that Blake liked Flann. Very, very glad.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The homestead was dark when Flann pulled down the drive a little before ten thirty to drop Margie home. She smiled to herself. Early to bed, early to rise…et cetera, et cetera. Her mother would be up at four as she had been Flann’s whole life, even though she didn’t have a houseful to get off to school with only Margie living at home now. The kitchen would still smell like fresh coffee, bacon, and hot biscuits, and the table would still be set and waiting for whoever showed up. Sometimes she or Harper would roll in with the sun after a late-night call. Her father would be up shortly after her mother if he hadn’t been out all night working, and then they’d all be out of the house again by six for early morning rounds.

The routine was a constant she’d come to think would never change, but as she looked back over the last few years, she realized life had been slowly changing for a long time. Carson was the first to leave when she’d married Bill while still in college. Harper moved into the caretaker’s house when she and Flann returned from residency to start practice at the Rivers, but that had seemed almost like she still lived at home. Harper was gone now, having pretty much vacated the little house to live with Presley in their new home.

Flann hadn’t spent a night sitting on the back porch with Harper and her father, talking about cases, in weeks. Margie was getting ready to drive soon, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be off to college. While Flann had been focused on avoiding any kind of personal ties, everyone else had been making their own lives. Oh, she could always come home—they all could and would, she knew that in her heart. But her life wasn’t here anymore—it was somewhere else, waiting for her to be brave enough to grab it. The idea no longer seemed impossible.

“I’ll see you at the game tomorrow night,” Flann said as she helped Margie get her bike out of the back of the Jeep.

“You playing?”

“Not a whole game yet,” Flann said. “I’m giving my leg a rest.”

“You’ll be there, though, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Flann ruffled her hair. She wanted to tell her to hold on to these summer nights, to imprint them in her bones, because the time would come when the memories would remind her of what really mattered the most.

“Okay, that’s good.”

Margie looked younger in the moonlight, younger and innocent and maybe just a little worried. Margie rarely if ever looked uncertain, and warning bells went off. “Is everything going okay with you?”

“Oh, sure.”

She didn’t sound so sure, and Flann wasn’t much for subtlety anyhow. “How are things with Blake?”

Margie leaned against the Jeep. “You mean with him and the other kids?”

“Yeah. Or with you.”

“Him being trans, you mean.”

Flann reined herself in to go at Margie’s pace. “If that’s part of it, sure.”

“Pretty much okay.”

Margie wasn’t one for noncommittal statements either. Flann leaned next to her and slid her hands into her pockets. This could take some time, and she had nowhere else to be that mattered more. “Does that mean sometimes yes but sometimes no?”

“Everybody I’ve introduced him to has been cool. But you know, all my friends are cool.”

Flann laughed and bumped her shoulder. “Of course.”

“Richie West is an ass,” Margie said emphatically.

Richie West. Flann snorted. Richie West was one of those aimless guys a few years out of high school with no particular ambition who never really wanted to grow up—longing for the glory days of adolescence and resenting anyone who broke away from the pack. Flann saw him now and then, hanging around with a bunch of similar going-nowhere guys tinkering with motorcycles, drinking too much, and basically waiting for their big break to come along unaided by anything they might do. “He’s giving you trouble?”

“Not really,” Margie said. “Just the usual bullshit.”

“What kind of bullshit do you mean?” Flann tried to keep her temper out of her voice so Margie would keep talking. If an older guy was after Margie, she was going to put a stop to that right quick. “He’s been bothering you?”

Margie hunched a shoulder. “He’s tried to get me to go for a ride with him a couple of times.”

“A ride.” Flann gritted her teeth. God, she wanted to kill him. “And what did you say?”

Margie grinned, her straight white teeth gleaming in the moonlight. She was a young lioness, and one day, she would rule her own pride. “I told him I wasn’t interested.”

“And he let it drop?”

“Sort of. Yeah, I guess.”

“Come on, Margie. Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“Because I didn’t want you to hunt him down and kick his ass.” She was laughing, knowing Flann didn’t choose physical violence as a first resort.

“What’s the rest of it?”

“He just makes comments when he sees me sometimes, and then Blake and I were walking home tonight and…” She shrugged again. “I told you, he’s an ass.”

“What did he say?”

“He just followed us awhile on his motorcycle, saying how Blake was a freak and if I wanted a dick he had one for me.” Margie huffed. “He is a dick, but I didn’t say it.”

“Smart move,” Flann said, a cold wave of fury rolling through her. “What did the two of you do?”

“Nothing. It’s better not to engage.”

Flann stroked her hair. “You’re pretty damn smart, you know that?”

“Yeah.” Margie leaned against her, and Flann slid an arm around her shoulders. “Blake is really brave, you know?”

Flann kissed the top of her head. “Yep. And so are you. If West bothers you again, you let me or Harper know.”

“Okay.”

Margie made no move to move away and Flann kept her close. They might not have too many moments like this.

“So, you and Dr. Remy have a thing?” Margie said finally.

“Margie,” Flann groaned. “Personal. Remember?”

“Well, how come you can ask me about my personal stuff, then?”

“That’s different.”

“Why, because you’re older?”

“Partly.” Margie snorted, and Flann laughed. “I like her, okay?”

“Me too. Blake says she’s been really cool with everything.”

“They’re both pretty awesome.”

“Yeah, I think so too. So,” Margie said, “you do have a thing?”

Flann sighed. “Maybe.”

“Good. So—”

“That’s all you get. Go to bed.” Flann gave her a little shove toward the house. “Good night!”

Margie loped off, calling, “You too.”

Flann started the Jeep. She was ready for bed, and she’d probably even be able to sleep now. Talking about Abby and Blake, thinking about them, settled her in a way she hadn’t imagined possible. They mattered, and she hadn’t known she’d wanted that, but she did. She wanted a life where love mattered.

*

Flann kept watching the parking lot as game time drew closer. Blake and Margie sat with Presley in the stands, but Abby hadn’t come. The disappointment was a sharp pain in Flann’s chest. She hadn’t seen Abby all day, but every second when she wasn’t busy, she thought of her. She replayed the kisses, how could she not? But mostly she came back to the moments they’d shared strolling through the market and sharing a bottle of wine while the sun went down. Moments far more intimate than anything she’d experienced naked in bed with near strangers. She wanted Abby naked in bed—she’d awakened with a craving for her that left her out of sorts and aching all day—but she wanted the quiet connections too. She wanted it all.

She tried to distract herself by watching the warm-ups. Carrie was loosening up, pitching to Harper. Usually Glenn would be hitting fly balls to the outfielders, but Glenn was missing in action too. Glenn never missed a game and was never late unless she and Flann were held up in the OR. A sliver of heat raced down Flann’s spine. Glenn and Abby were missing. Together.

No, that was just coincidence. Abby wasn’t a player, and Abby wouldn’t have kissed her the way she’d kissed her if she was interested in anyone else. Still, a little niggle of doubt ate at her. She didn’t want Abby kissing anyone else. But then how was Abby supposed to know that?

“God damn it.”

“You’re talking to yourself. You don’t want to scare the horses.”

Flann frowned at Harper, belatedly noticing Carrie had left the field to get some water. “There are no horses.”

“All the same.” Harper scanned the stands and grinned in Presley’s direction. “You’re not playing tonight, are you?”

“I thought maybe I could DH,” Flann said, “if things get tight later on.”

“Probably better if you give that leg a little more time to heal.”

“Geez, when did you start channeling Mama?”

“Abby’s admitting a patient with a rule-out MI, in case you were wondering,” Harper said casually.

Flann crossed her arms and pretended not to be relieved. “One of yours?”

“No, Lorraine Peterson’s. But I was seeing one of my patients in the ER when Lorraine’s patient came in. Abby’ll probably be along soon.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I just thought you might want to know that. Seeing as how you’ve been glued to the stands for the last half hour.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh, okay.” Harper shrugged. “’Cause, you know, I thought the two of you had a thing.”

“Jesus, is everybody interested in my love life now?”

“Is there one?”

Flann stomped over to the bench and sorted through the equipment bag to find her glove. “I’m gonna catch fly balls for a while.”

“Don’t do much running.” Harper looked around as if to check who was nearby. They were alone. “Hold on.”

“What?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t do any running at all, Flann.”

Flann tucked her glove under her arm. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Abby is special. So is Blake.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I think what you don’t know is that you are too. Always have been.”

“For fuck sake,” Flann muttered. “Falling in love has really made you go soft.”

“And it’s just made you harder to live with,” Harper shot back.

“I’m not falling in love.”

“Aren’t you?” Harper’s brow raised. “Then you probably don’t care that Hank Anderson asked me if Abby was available. And he’s not the only one. Marsha—”

Flann growled. “Abby’s not available.”

“I didn’t think so. Maybe you should tell her that.” Harper grinned. “Don’t push that leg tonight. We’ve got a barn to raise tomorrow.”

Flann dropped onto the bench and scanned the bleachers one more time. No Abby. Hank Anderson was an ass, and Marsha Fitzroy was a player. She wondered how many other people were going to come sniffing around. God damn it. Abby was hers. Hers.

Glenn and Abby showed up together a few minutes before game time. Flann watched Abby climb into the stands and settle next to Presley. She looked at home, she looked perfect. The pain in Flann’s chest eased.

Glenn hustled over and grabbed the equipment bag, nodding to Flann. “Hey.”

“I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Glenn grabbed her glove and sat to lace up her spikes. “Abby and I were looking at a patient with a diabetic foot ulcer. I cleaned it up a little bit but didn’t think he needed to be admitted.”

“I didn’t get a consult.”

“Oh, I stopped by on my way out. Just to check.”

“You always stop in the ER before you leave at the end of the day?”

“Usually,” Glenn said, tying her shoe. “That way I can catch anything that might need to be seen later at night.” She straightened and glanced at Flann. “Cuts down on the calls for the night person.”

“Right,” Flann said, blowing out a breath. “I appreciate that. We all do.”

Glenn grinned. “Besides, I’m trying to get Abby to go out to dinner with me—”

“You might want to back off there.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Glenn said, a grin sliding free. “Just wanted to be sure, though.”

“You set me up for that,” Flann said in wonderment.

“Couldn’t help myself.” A rare spark of amusement flared in Glenn’s usually unreadable eyes.

“Damn,” Flann muttered. “You are a woman of hidden depths.”

“Not so much,” Glenn said. “You ready to play some ball?”

Flann grinned, checked the stands, and caught Abby’s eye. She waved, and Abby waved back. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Abby waved to Blake a few rows below her and settled next to Presley.

“Hi,” she said, opening a bottle of water, her attention riveted to the field. The game was about to start and Flann was pacing by her team’s bench, alternately watching the field and glancing over at Abby. “Not playing is driving her crazy.”

“Who?” Presley’s attention was riveted on Harper at second base.

“Flann. The other gorgeous Rivers sister. Hello, Presley.”

“Oh hey, Abby.” Presley smiled, sounding as if awakening from a daydream. “Oh!” Presley grabbed Abby’s hand and pointed to the woman beside her who sat with a toddler in her lap. “This is Carson—Flann’s sister.”

Abby straightened and leaned around Presley. Of course Carson was a Rivers sister. She was striking, just like the rest of them. With her ivory skin, clear green eyes, and lightly feathered auburn hair, she didn’t look much older than Margie. The toddler was probably a little over a year, his toothy smile and blue eyes filled with joy. She held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Abby Remy.”

Carson smiled. “Great to meet you. I’m sorry I missed you until now. It’s been so crazy lately, with the storm and everything.”

“I know. I hope you didn’t get much damage.”

“Just a little on the roof and a lot of yard damage. We’ve been in cleanup mode, but nothing serious.” The baby chortled and Carson bounced him. “This would be Davey.”

“He’s gorgeous.”

Carson’s smile widened. “Thanks.”

Abby pointed to Blake. “The one next to Margie would be mine.”

“Margie introduced us. He’s gorgeous too.”

“Thanks.”

A cheer rose and Abby glanced over to watch the players take the field. Flann’s team was up to bat. Abby slowly relaxed in the early evening sun, the tension in her shoulders easing as she let the constant demands of the ER fade away. Flann had finally settled onto the bench, but it was clear being a spectator did not agree with her. She alternately yelled advice and silently muttered to herself. Every now and then she glanced Abby’s way and grinned, a grin Abby was certain anyone watching could read. Flann’s heated gaze spoke of sinful things, of dark kisses and secret caresses, and more. The more was becoming a disturbingly constant distraction, physically and mentally.

She’d slept fitfully the night before, and she couldn’t really blame it on the heat. Her windows had been open and a breeze had cooled her bare skin, but still she’d twisted and turned, her body blazing not from the summer air, but from the memory of Flann’s hands, her mouth, and the way Flann’s caresses made her ache. The arousal pulsing in her depths had kept her just on the brink of awakening, and when she’d finally given up on sleep and opened her eyes, she’d been swollen and heavy with urgency. Even her breasts had been tender and full. When she’d cupped her breast and caught her nipple between her thumb and fingers, the answering beat between her thighs had grown more insistent.

She could have come quickly if she’d wanted, but perversely, she hadn’t wanted to rush. She’d wanted to tease herself the way Flann’s kisses had teased her. Lying naked atop the sheets, she’d slowly stroked while recalling the heat in Flann’s eyes and the way Flann’s mouth had claimed hers and the possessive grip of her hands. She’d finally let herself orgasm when she couldn’t stand the pressure anymore, and Flann’s face had flickered before her eyes as her back arched and she bit down on a cry.

She smiled to herself now, imagining how much more potent the reality would be. When her gaze turned outward from the memory, she found Flann staring at her across the field, the look on her face one that suggested she knew exactly what Abby was thinking.

Abby pointedly looked away. Anyone watching them would see the desire. She’d already exposed her need to Flann, she could at least keep some dignity in public.

“They’re hard to resist, aren’t they,” Presley said.

“Is it that obvious?” Abby murmured.

“Only to someone who knows both of you,” Presley said with laughter in her voice. “Is it serious or just serious lust?”

“I’m not sure.” Abby pushed her hair off her neck in hopes the breeze would cool some of the heat in her face. “I’m serious about the lust, I mean. That’s very serious. Possibly terminal.”

Presley choked on her laugh.

“But the rest of it, I’m a little afraid to think about. Sometimes it feels too—”

“Big?” Presley finished.

“Yes.”

Presley nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. Wonderful and absolutely terrifying at the same time.”

“Yes.” Some of Abby’s uncertainty dissipated, knowing Presley understood. “Is that normal, do you think? Because I’m not usually reduced to words of one syllable just from looking at a woman.”

“I think so, when you love all the way.”

Love. Abby wasn’t sure. She understood love. She loved Blake with every atom of her being. She loved her mother. She loved her work. None of those things kept her awake at night or had her second-guessing every action. Only the fear of failing Blake frightened her, but not of loving him. Whatever she felt for Flann was different from all of those feelings. The want, the desire, the need left her open and vulnerable and raw. As if she might break. “I don’t know if I even want to know.”

Presley squeezed her knee. “You’ll know when the time is right, and you’ll know what to do.”

Abby hoped so.

*

At the beginning of the fifth inning, the right fielder, a nurse Abby recognized from the ICU, motioned to Flann, spoke to her for a minute, and then slumped on the bench. Flann grabbed her glove and ran out to right field.

“Looks like Flann is going to sub for Mary Ellen,” Presley said.

“Damn it,” Abby said. “She wasn’t going to play tonight.”

Carson must have heard her. “You didn’t really think so, did you? I gave her until the fourth inning.”

“If she breaks open that incision—”

“She’ll be careful,” Carson said. “She’s not nearly as wild as she looks.”

Abby wasn’t sure she agreed. She watched Flann field a ball on the run, her stomach a twisting mess. She couldn’t bear to see her hurt again.

When the team came up to bat, Flann of course took her turn. She laid a solid line drive to left field, and Harper scored. Flann made it to first, and Abby let out a breath. Flann signaled to her bench and a pinch runner came in to take her place. Flann threw Abby a cocky smile back to the sidelines as if to say, What, were you worried?

Abby just shook her head and Flann laughed. Oh, she was wild, all right. Wild and sexy and driving Abby crazy. When the game ended with a win for their team, Abby was a little disappointed the evening was almost over. She wasn’t usually a spectator, but she’d enjoyed the camaraderie of the cheering section, and she’d definitely loved watching Flann.

As Abby stood to make her way down the bleachers, Presley said, “Don’t forget Carrie’s planning a wedding summit tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll be there,” Abby said.

“Carson?” Presley asked.

“Absolutely.” Carson hiked Davey onto her hip. “Bill is planning on helping with the barn raising too.”

“Good, I’ll see you both then.” Presley headed in the direction of the team and Harper.

Abby waved to Carson and met Blake and Margie on the field. “You two need a ride?”

“Yeah, but we’re gonna get hot dogs from the stand first,” Blake said. “You want one?”

“None for me. I’ll meet you at the car. I’m parked in the middle of the second row.”

“Okay. See you,” Blake called. He grabbed Margie’s hand and they disappeared into the crowd.

Abby walked behind the bleachers toward the parking lot. A hand snaked out, caught her wrist, and pulled her into the shade beneath the bleachers.

“Flann!” Abby laughed. “What are you doing?”

“Collecting my kiss.” Flann pulled her close with an arm around her waist and kissed her, a kiss that blanked her mind and flooded her body with fire. Flann’s kiss wasn’t the gentle brush of lips like the last time—more a promise then than a joining. Now her mouth was hot and hard and demanding.

Abby opened to her, taking her in, drinking her in. She drove her fingers into Flann’s hair and held her in place. She wanted more than a promise—she wanted an answer for the tension and wanting that had kept her awake all night. Flann slipped into her mouth and Abby moaned softly. Deeper—she wanted her deeper everywhere.

Flann tugged Abby’s shirt from her shorts and slid her hand onto her lower back, fingers spread, molding their bodies even closer together. “I missed you.”

Abby’s mind was a whirl of sensation, the scent of summer grass, the heat of summer sun, the taste of lust. “Oh God, Flann. We can’t do this under the bleachers.”

“No one’s looking,” Flann growled.

“Not right this minute,” she gasped. “Mmm, you feel so good. I can’t stand it.”

“Good. I’ve been going crazy thinking about this.” Flann kissed her way down Abby’s throat. Her hand closed on Abby’s breast, and she moaned again. “You’re going to have to stand it for a while longer, because I want you. Abby, I want you.”

Gathering every shred of her tattered willpower, Abby pushed away. The wild hunger on Flann’s face almost made her not care where they were or who might see them. But she wanted more than a kiss. More than almost. She wanted all.

“Blake and Margie are waiting,” Abby said. “And one more kiss like that, and I’m going to want a lot more than kisses.”

“You’re right,” Flann said, breathing hard. “What I want to do I can’t do here. When—”

The roar of motorcycles drowned out Flann’s words, and a strange look passed over Flann’s face.

“What?” Abby asked, recognizing Flann’s focus shift to risk assessment.

“Where are Blake and Margie?”

“They were getting something to eat and heading for the parking lot to meet me. Why?”

Flann took her hand. “Probably nothing. Come on. Let’s go find them.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Some guy’s been bothering Margie,” Flann muttered. “It’s probably nothing, I just want to—”

Blake and Margie stood next to Abby’s car. Four young men on motorcycles ringed them, the engines rumbling like threatening predators. Abby’s pulse raced and her mind sharpened. The threat had materialized.

“Stay here.” Flann strode quickly toward the group. Abby followed on her heels and edged over toward Blake and Margie.

Flann halted inches from a scruffy bearded boy in a nondescript T-shirt and grimy jeans. About twenty, he was hollow-cheeked, his eyes narrow and small. He looked like an angry rodent of some kind, the type that bit when cornered. Abby’s chest tightened.

“You’re gonna want to stay away from my sister and her friends, Richie,” Flann said.

“No law says I can’t talk to her,” Richie said.

“When you’re fifteen, you can get away with being a bully unless somebody puts a stop to it. Somebody should have set you to rights then.” Richie smirked. Flann’s stony expression never changed. “Now what you’re doing is called stalking. If I see you around Margie again, or she tells me you’re following her, or verbally accosting her, you’ll get a visit from the sheriff.”

Richie snorted, but his gaze shifted away from Flann’s solid one.

Harper eased up beside Abby. “What’s going on?”

“Not sure, something about Margie and that boy on the motorcycle. He’s been following her, it sounds like.”

Harper stepped up next to Flann. “Hey, sis. Need help swatting flies?”

“Not just yet.”

“Fucking dykes,” Richie said, but his voice was thin and shaky. He glanced at Blake. “Freaks. Figures.”

“You’re gonna want to back off now, Richie,” Flann said softly, but loud enough for everyone who had gathered around to hear. “And you’ll want to stay away from my sister and her friend Blake.”

“You see, Richie,” Harper added, “Blake’s family.”

“Yeah. Whole family’s freaks,” Richie muttered, but he was pushing his motorcycle back away from Flann and Harper. His friends silently followed suit and the crowd parted, disdainful glances following the group as they turned and rode away.

Abby wanted to grab Blake but knew he would be embarrassed. Instead, she said as casually as she could manage, “Everybody doing okay?”

Blake nodded. “Yeah. They’re just jerks.”

“I agree. Not a particularly scientific assessment,” Abby said lightly, “but accurate.”

Presley cut through the crowd to Harper and took her hand. “Everything all right?”

Harper kissed her. “Fine.” She slid an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go home.”

Presley wrapped an arm around her waist. “Good idea.”

The crowd broke up, and Flann watched until Richie West and his friends pulled onto the highway and roared away. “Morons.”

She turned, took in Margie and Blake. “They come near you again, you call me. Or Abby or Harper. Day or night. Right there on the spot. If you can’t get us, you call 9-1-1.”

“They won’t bother us again.” Margie glanced at Blake. “They’re cowards.”

“Bullies usually are,” he said quietly.

“Just remember,” Flann said, “you don’t ever have to take it. Either of you. That’s why we’re here. All of us.”

Blake looked at Flann, then his mother. “We know.”

“I’ll be with you two in a minute.” Abby took Flann’s hand and drew her away. “Thank you.”

Flann cupped her cheek and kissed her. “No thanks necessary. I really wanted to tear his mean little head off, but I didn’t want you to think I was uncivilized.”

“You can be as uncivilized as you want when we’re alone.”

Flann grinned. “Be careful, I might take you at your word.”

Abby walked toward the car. After a few steps, she glanced over her shoulder, liking that Flann was watching her. “I expect you to.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“I knew we should’ve gotten here earlier,” Blake said, practically vibrating in the front seat.

Abby pulled in behind a long line of pickups, Subarus, and an occasional minivan in the drive leading up to Presley’s farmhouse. Construction equipment in vivid yellow, green, and orange crowded the slope behind the house. She thought the big prehistoric-looking things were backhoes, but she hadn’t quite gotten the nomenclature straight yet. “It’s seven o’clock in the morning. I don’t think it’s polite to show up before people actually get out of bed.”

“Mom,” Blake said in an aggrieved voice, “this is the country,” as if she didn’t know that, “and everyone gets up at sunrise.”

Abby gave him a look. “This coming from the guy who used to complain about getting up before nine.”

He jumped out of the car as soon as she put it in park, peered in at her, and grinned. “That was before. Margie and Flann and everybody are probably already here. I don’t want to miss anything.”

Laughing, Abby climbed out and waved him on. “Go, then. And be careful with the tools.”

Blake gave her the aggrieved expression reserved for parents who clearly didn’t get it, and jogged off down the drive. Abby took her time following, wending her way between cornfields, basking in the cool air that would give way in a few hours to heat and humidity. It was July, after all, but she found she didn’t mind the weather. How could she mind when surrounded by clear skies and the smell of growing things everywhere? No, she definitely didn’t miss summer in the city. No wonder so many city dwellers had historically escaped north into the mountains and countryside every summer.

She smiled. She’d never have to escape again. She was already home. She was as sure of that now as Blake had been almost from the beginning. All she needed was to be sure the job worked out and Blake adjusted to his new school. No small tasks for either of them, but they’d both made great progress so far. Thanks to Margie, Blake had a growing circle of friends who would help him when school started, and she had made solid inroads to getting the ER residency program up and running. And then there was Flann.

Flann was a very definite reason to want to stay right where she was.

As if reading Abby’s thoughts, Flann appeared at the top of the drive. “Hey! You made it.”

“According to Blake, we’re already late.”

“Not to worry. People will be drifting in and out all day.” Flann wore her usual nonhospital attire of work boots, jeans, and a T-shirt, this time with her sleeves cut off and a raggedy V slashed at the neck. The shirt was tight enough to show the curves of her breasts if you were looking, and Abby was looking. She shaded her eyes, the better to take in every inch of her, and Flann slowed as if knowing exactly what she was doing. The easy grin Abby was coming to love spread across her face.

“Sleep okay?” Flann slid her hands into her pockets and rocked a little on her heels, waiting for Abby to draw next to her.

Abby wanted to say How could I, considering the state you left me in, but she decided to be more subtle for the moment. “Great. How about you?”

Flann leaned close, her breath warm against Abby’s cheek. “Had a hard time getting to sleep, thinking about all the things I wanted to do with you and didn’t get a chance.”

Abby drew a long breath, savoring the earthy freshness of her. She’d know Flann’s scent anywhere. “Really? I fell asleep the second I lay down.”

“And here I thought you never exaggerated.” Flann chuckled and slipped an arm around her waist. “Didn’t you think about me just a little?”

Abby slid her hand onto Flann’s back, tracing the edge of muscle running from her shoulder down her spine, hungry for the touch of her solid, sexy body. She pressed into her just a little, not caring they were standing in the middle of the drive. “I’m still waiting for the wild part.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Abby was about to invite her to get as wild as she wanted when Harper yelled down, “Hey, Flann, you gonna work today or what?”

Flann sighed. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

“No,” Abby said, meaning it. “I’m second call, so as long as it stays quiet, I’ll be here.”

“Good. I’ll find you.” Flann turned as if to go, turned quickly back, and kissed her. “I’m feeling a lot more than a little wild.”

Abby laughed and gave her a push. “Don’t be thinking about anything except what you’re doing out there.”

“Promise.”

“Thank you.” Abby grabbed her hand. “Would you keep an eye on Blake for me?”

“Of course. You never have to worry about that.” Flann ran a finger along the angle of Abby’s jaw. “I want to kiss you but if I do, I’ll never get to work.”

“Go,” Abby said, already so aroused she ached. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

Flann jogged away and Abby slowly followed, giving her body a chance to calm down while enjoying the view of Flann from the back. She had a great ass. Finally she rounded the corner to the back porch, which, along with the kitchen, she’d quickly come to realize was the center of all activity.

Carson occupied one of the rocking chairs with a cup of coffee and an amazing-looking biscuit balanced on a plate on her knee. The scent of something marvelous—yeasty and sweet—emanated from the kitchen on a wave of strong coffee fumes.

Abby’s mouth instantly watered. “What is it?”

“Buttermilk biscuits with fresh blueberries. Lila and Mama are making breakfast.”

Abby tried not to moan on her way inside. Carrie and Presley were filling their coffee cups from an industrial-sized coffee urn. The table was laden with baskets of biscuits, slabs of butter, syrup, and fruit. A few dozen plates and piles of silverware filled one end.

“Oh my God, this is heaven,” Abby murmured.

Ida Rivers ladled mountains of scrambled eggs from a cast-iron skillet the size of a satellite dish onto a platter. She smiled at Abby over her shoulder. “I hope you came hungry.”

Abby blushed, instantly shy, a sensation she wasn’t usually prone to experiencing. But this was Flann’s mother, and a woman she greatly admired. And she’d just been hungering for her daughter. “Famished. Anything I can do?”

“Lila and I have the food situation under control. I understand Carrie is handling the important business of the morning.” Ida shook her head. “We could have used her when Carson got married. Harper and Flann were about as useful as tits on a bull as far as the planning end of things went.”

Abby’s mouth dropped and she couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Oh my God. I’m going to have a hard time getting that image out of my mind anytime I look at either of them.”

Ida smiled, set the eggs aside, and forked slices of ham onto another platter. “Well, we all have our strengths.”

“Flannery certainly does,” Abby said quietly.

Ida nodded and continued spearing ham with a practiced flip of her wrist. “She does, but she’s never been willing to see it.”

“She just needs to slow down long enough to notice.”

“You seem to have noticed, though,” Ida said.

“It’s not hard to see, when you look. She’s wonderful.” Abby paused. “She’s kind and brave and tender.”

Ida handed her the platter of eggs. “I’m glad you know that. Put this on the table for me?”

“Of course.”

“And don’t let her fool you,” Ida said conversationally as she deposited the ham beside the biscuits. “She’s just been waiting for someone to catch her. Even if she doesn’t know it.”

“This looks delicious,” Abby said. “And I’ll remember that.”

Ida hummed and went back to laying out bacon into a skillet.

Flann wasn’t the only one who’d been running. Abby’d been running from her own needs in the race to take care of everyone else’s for fifteen years. But she’d stopped running now, and the thought wasn’t the least bit scary.

Now she had all the time in the world. She grabbed her coffee, piled more food than she usually ate in three meals onto a white porcelain plate, and traipsed out to the porch to join the others. She took the last rocker. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

Carrie flipped open a loose-leaf binder that was sectioned with colored tabs and turned to the first section. “Okay—location and setup.” She pointed a matching colored pencil at Carson. “Since you know the homestead and the local vendors, you’re in charge of that. Tents, tables, chair rental, all that kind of thing. Okay?”

“Got it,” Carson said. “We can just use the same people we did for my wedding. In fact, I still have the old lists.” She rummaged in a voluminous bag at her side and pulled out a stack of spreadsheets. “It’s been a few years, but it’s a starting place.”

Carrie waggled her fingers. “Gimme.”

For the next two hours, they divided up phone calls to vendors, discussed floral arrangements, menus, musicians, guest lists, childcare facilities, and the need for Porta-Potties versus comfort vans, all the time accompanied by a cacophony of power tools, pounding, shouts, and laughter coming from the direction of the barn. Men, women, girls, and boys drifted in and out of the kitchen, filling plates, and discussing weather, crops, sports, and opinions on the latest books and movies. Blake and Margie rushed in with a scrum of teens who acted as if they hadn’t seen food in a millennium. Abby noted Blake’s jubilant expression and avoided embarrassing him by calling out hello.

By midday, the skeleton of the damaged portion of the barn had been erected and people swarmed over the roof, laying down new slate and tin. Abby kept an eye out for Flann but couldn’t find her until almost one when Flann walked over to an outdoor hose across the yard, turned it on, and doused her head and shoulders with water. Her wet T-shirt clung to her torso as she shook her head vigorously like a dog coming out of the lake after a particularly wonderful swim. When she brushed both hands through her soaked hair, she glanced at the back porch, caught Abby watching, and sent her an if-you-like-it-come-and-get-it smirk. Abby’s mouth went dry.

She was about to take Flann up on her obvious invitation when a woman cut across Abby’s line of sight, moving like an arrow with Flann as her target. The svelte blonde sauntered as if on a New York runway and looked distinctly out of place among the cotton and denim crowd. Her jade capri pants and sleeveless raw silk shirt clung to her in a way that accentuated the curve of her shapely hips and full breasts. Her high-heeled sandals were definitely not meant for tramping around the barnyard.

“Who’s that?” Abby said, hearing the edge in her voice and not caring.

“Oh,” Carson said, “that’s Dr. Love.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sydney Valentine. She’s a local vet. She got the nickname in high school, because—well, because all the boys and quite a few of the girls wanted to sleep with her, and the rest of us just wanted to be her.” Carson smiled wryly. “You know the type? Top of the class, captain of the tennis team, homecoming queen—everything every girl wanted to be. She broke the hearts of half the football team when she wouldn’t sleep with any of them and ran through most of the interested girls like a threshing machine too.”

“I’m assuming Flannery was one of them,” Abby said, the desire to grab the blonde by her elegant neck and drag her away from Flann making her palms itch. She’d never had a physically violent thought in her life but decided she’d worry about what it meant later. When the vet put her hand on Flann’s upper arm, Abby rose. “Excuse me.”

She strode across the yard, dodging children playing a pickup game of catch, and stepped up to Flann. “Are you ready for a break?”

“Pretty quick,” Flann said. “Abby, this is Sydney Valentine. She runs the big vet clinic in Battenkill.”

Up close, Sydney’s eyes were a chocolate brown, intelligent and appraising. She was stunning. Abby held out her hand and resisted the urge to pluck Sydney’s fingers from Flann’s arm. She did, however, make a point of staring at the offending appendage. “Abigail Remy. Nice to meet you.”

Sydney laughed lightly and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you too. I was just telling Flann I would’ve been here earlier, but one of my clients had a mare who was having trouble foaling.” She smiled at Flann. “Thanks for calling and letting me know about today. I would have hated to miss the party.”

“No problem,” Flann said easily.

“It’s so nice to see everyone again.” Sydney looked pointedly at Flann. “It’s been too long.”

Abby gritted her teeth and took Flann’s hand. “Your mother was looking for you.”

“Sure,” Flann said, her brows quirked quizzically. “I’ll see you later, Syd.”

“Of course.”

Abby pulled Flann through the gaggle of kids toward the front of the house and away from the center of activity.

“Really,” Flann said, laughing. “My mother?”

“Never mind.” Abby strode across the porch and inside to the deserted foyer. The hallway beyond was dim and cool. They were alone. Abby, Flann in tow, marched toward the staircase.

“Abs?” Flann asked.

“You invited her?”

Flann took the stairs two at a time to keep up with Abby’s rapid pace. “Yeah, I thought—”

Abby stopped at the bedroom she’d stayed in the first time Flann had kissed her, pulled her inside, and shut the door. She turned and pressed Flann back against it. “Be careful what you say right now.”

Flann’s eyes widened. “I thought I could introduce her to the kids. Help them get an in at the clinic.”

Abby caught Flann’s chin in her hand and kissed her until Flann groaned and gripped her hips. She pulled back, breathless. “Good answer.”

“Abby,” Flann said hoarsely. “What are you doing?”

Abby smiled. “I’m staking my claim.”

“I—”

Abby pressed her fingers to Flann’s mouth. “I think you’ll get my meaning in a minute.”

“You do realize where we are?”

Abby laughed. “Do you think anyone’s paying any attention? In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t hear yourself think around this place for all the hammering and whatnot.” She skimmed her mouth down Flann’s neck and licked the hollow at the base of her throat. “Unless, of course, you’d rather leave.”

“Hell no,” Flann whispered, tilting her head back against the door. She’d never been claimed before, never been taken, and suddenly she wanted that more than she’d ever wanted anything. She wanted to belong to Abby. “I don’t want to go anywhere at all.”

“Good,” Abby whispered, tugging Flann’s T-shirt from her jeans. “Because you’re not going to.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“The door,” Flann said hoarsely, words deserting her.

“I’ll take care of that.” Abby reached back and turned the old-fashioned brass key in the lock. A clunk signaled the outside world was shut away.

Nothing mattered now except the desire that bound them.

Flann pressed her hands flat against the door. Abby wanted to be in charge. She couldn’t remember a time when a woman had made demands of her, other than that she satisfy her. She’d never minded, but this…this was something completely different. Something she hadn’t realized she wanted until just this moment, and now she wanted Abby’s hands on her more than she wanted her heart to keep beating.

Abby grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and yanked it up over her breasts. Flann automatically raised her arms and Abby stripped it off, dropping it behind them.

Abby smiled. “I’ve been wanting to see you without your shirt on since the first moment I saw you.”

“You could have asked and I would—”

Abby pressed her fingers to Flann’s mouth. “I don’t want you to say anything. I don’t want you to think about anything. The only thing I want is for you to feel what I’m doing to you.”

Silently, Flann nodded. Her heart pounded so hard it had to be visible through her skin. Abby pressed both hands to her chest, splaying her fingers over Flann’s muscles, moving slowly back and forth as if taking her measure. Flann was never so happy in her life that she spent her spare time working around the farm. She had trouble catching her breath. She had trouble focusing. She blinked, searched for some place to hold on, and met Abby’s eyes. They weren’t hazy the way they got when they kissed. They were sharp and intent, glittering with hunger. Hunger for her. She couldn’t keep quiet. “Okay?”

“Oh, honey. More than okay,” Abby murmured. “I love the way you look.” She slid her hands down Flann’s chest and cupped her breasts, lifting slightly so their weight fell into her palms. She brushed her thumbs over the tight tan nipples. “Look at you. So damn sexy.”

“God,” Flann choked out. Everything was too slow, too soft, too perfect. Already blood was pounding between her legs, the beat like a frantic creature racing from a soaring hawk. She’d embarrass herself if she got much more excited. “Abby—”

“I know,” Abby said gently, lowering her head and closing her lips around Flann’s nipple.

The shock arrowed straight down her spine. Flann’s legs trembled and she locked her knees to keep upright. Her breasts tingled. Lightning coiled in her belly, a storm brewing, about to explode. Flann cupped Abby’s head, pressed her mouth harder to her breast. “Feels so good.”

Lips curving in a triumphant smile, Abby took her time. She had all the time in the world now. This was where she belonged—this place, this world, this woman. She’d been searching and hadn’t even known it. She moved from one breast to the other, kissing the firm curves, nipping at the tender nipples, reveling in the rasp of Flann’s breath and the soft whimpers she doubted Flann even knew she was making. She brushed her mouth over the soft skin, a pirate claiming her treasure. Flann was hers and she intended to mark her in some deep, indelible place, in her body and her heart. “You’re mine.”

“Yes,” Flann gasped.

Abby kissed her way back to Flann’s mouth, delved inside, and slid a hand between their bodies. She flicked open the button on Flann’s pants.

Flann muttered softly, “Need you, Abby. Please.”

“I’m here.” But Abby had no intention of releasing her just yet. She dropped to her knees, gripped Flann’s waistband, and pulled her jeans down her legs. Of course she’d gone commando. Nothing ever reined Flann in, not clothes or convention. Only her. Only here, where all their secrets were exposed, where every need was celebrated, and every want satisfied. “Kick off those boots.”

“I don’t think I can move. I want to come so bad.”

“Mmm, I like that.” Abby kissed the base of Flann’s belly and reached down until she found the laces on Flann’s boots. She pulled them free. “Now, off.”

Flann managed to kick free of her boots, and Abby pushed the jeans after them. Abby’s vision hazed. Flann was naked, arms spread against the door, waiting, ready. Her arms and legs were bronzed and sculpted, her breasts proudly lifting, her abdomen a tight plain of smooth skin and muscle. She was glorious.

The sight of her, the taste of her, the scent of her desire stirred a madness Abby embraced with joy. Never in her life had she felt so powerful, or so blessed. She skimmed her fingers up the inside of Flann’s thighs, urging her to open. Flann’s body followed her commands, and Abby dipped her head and kissed her.

“Damn!” Flann’s hips thrust forward, and she drove her fingers into Abby’s hair.

Abby pressed her cheek to Flann’s thigh, struggling for enough control to continue. Flann’s need enflamed hers. She wanted to take her in, swallow her, drive her over the edge. But not yet. Not this first time. She raised her head, met Flann’s hooded gaze. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Take what you want.” Flann’s face was stark with need and something more. Trust.

Abby’s heart filled. “I want you. You, Flann. All of you.”

Flann’s fingers trembled in Abby’s hair. “I’m yours. All of me.”

“Here?” Abby stroked one finger between Flann’s thighs.

“Yes. Yes, please.”

“Mmm. Wait.” Abby followed the path of her finger with her mouth, traced the folds and valleys, closed her lips around Flann’s clitoris, circled her feather-light.

Flann groaned. “Close, close.”

Abby slid her arms around Flann’s hips and caressed her ass, held her firmly against her mouth, and sucked.

Flann’s head banged back against the door. A hoarse cry wrenched from her throat, and her fingers convulsed on Abby’s neck. She came hard in Abby’s mouth, pumping once, twice, a third frantic thrust of her hips. Abby kept up the long easy strokes until Flann sagged with a tortured groan.

Abby rose quickly, cinched an arm around Flann’s waist, and kissed her. Not done yet. She wanted more. She cupped her, eased inside. “Again.”

Flann moaned and tightened around her. Abby stroked, slowly at first until she felt Flann tense and grip her harder. She kissed her, increasing her tempo and swallowing her moans. Flann grabbed her shoulders so tightly she’d probably leave marks. Abby didn’t care. She reveled in the feel of Flann coming apart in her arms. When Flann came again, Abby pressed her mouth to the wild pulse in Flann’s neck. Mine.

“Done,” Flann finally gasped. “I think you fucking killed me.”

Abby laughed, the triumphant sound of a warrior trumpeting her victory. “I certainly hope not. I’m not done with you.”

“I don’t ever want you to be done,” Flann said fervently.

Abby leaned back, cupped Flann’s face in both hands. “I never will be. I love you, Flann.”

“I need you Abby.” Flann kissed her. “I love you, if you’ll have me. I swear—”

“You’re already mine, Flann,” Abby whispered and kissed her back.

Flann caught her second wind midway through the kiss. Abby loved her. Abby wanted her. Abby was hers, as she was Abby’s. She slipped an arm behind Abby’s shoulders, the other under her knees, and picked her up.

“Flann! What—”

Laughing, Flann strode four paces to the bed and dumped Abby in the center. Abby shrieked and Flann straddled her hips, already unbuttoning the sexy shirt she was wearing.

Abby raised up so Flann could get it off and her underwear followed. Then the shorts and Abby was naked, spread out before her and so beautiful Flann forgot to breathe.

“You’ll forgive me,” Flann muttered, sliding between Abby’s legs, “if I don’t go slow the first time.”

Abby laughed, wild and reckless. “Who wants slow? Hurry.”

Flann’s mouth came to Abby’s breast at the same time as her hand slid between her legs. The fire that had been burning in Abby’s depths for days roared to life and she arched, pushing against Flann’s fingers. She grabbed her wrist, pushed her deeper. “I want you to make me come. Right now.”

Flann’s teeth closed on Abby’s nipple just hard enough to send a jolt burning through her clitoris. She arched her hips, rode Flann’s hand, and closed her eyes as everything inside her unraveled. She lost count of how many times she crested, lost awareness, lost everything except the sensation of Flann above her, inside her, owning her. At last she lay boneless with Flann stretched out on top of her. She had just enough energy to kiss her neck.

“That is unequivocally the best sex I’ve ever had,” Abby murmured in a voice she didn’t recognize. Throaty and obscenely satisfied.

Flann chuckled against her throat. “Wait till the next time.”

Abby stroked her hair. “Will that be soon?”

“I sincerely hope so.”

“You do realize it’s a package deal?” Abby wasn’t so far gone not to know she couldn’t be so exposed without being sure. For once in her life, she wanted to be selfish. She wanted it all.

Flann marshaled her strength and pushed herself up on her elbow. Her face was loose and relaxed and she looked years younger. And supremely satisfied. Such an arrogant, gorgeous woman. Abby’s heart clenched. Please.

“If you mean Blake, of course I know that. If you’d let me be part of his life, I would be honored.”

“You know you already are part of his life. And mine.” Abby caught her lip between her teeth and waited until her voice was steady. “I’m going to want the whole deal, you know. That means you and only you for me. And same for you. The three of us, together.”

Flann’s brows drew together. “That works for me, for now.”

Abby’s throat closed. “For now?”

Flann kissed her throat, the valley between her breasts, the place where her heart beat. “I know it’s asking a lot of you, but I was thinking we might work on a sister or brother for Blake.”

“I’m almost thirty-five years old.” Abby stroked Flann’s face. “So I suppose we should get started fairly soon.”

Flann grinned. “Let’s find a house and get Blake settled at school. Then you say when.”

“We should probably tell Blake about us first. He’ll be so happy.”

“Then that makes three of us.”

Abby pulled Flann down beside her and curled up with her head on Flann’s shoulder. “I’m afraid he’ll want a farm.”

“Plenty of those around. Maybe we can compromise and get a reasonable-sized spread closer to town.” Flann stroked her arm, her talented surgeon’s fingers tracing light patterns on her skin that set Abby ablaze again. “A barn, some pastureland, but not so big we can’t handle it ourselves.”

Abby nuzzled her neck. “I want to see the river. I love the sound of the water at night.”

“Anything.” Flann tilted her chin and kissed her. “Anything you want.”

Abby smiled. “You’re what I want.”

“Done,” Flann murmured. “And if we stay here much longer I’m going to want you again. Sooner or later we’ll be missed.”

“I know.” Abby sighed. “We should get back.” She laughed. “But I’m showering first.”

“Good idea. I’ll help.”

Abby sat up, pressed her palm to Flann’s belly. Muscles jumped, and her blood heated. “Not the recommended course of action, Dr. Rivers.”

“Do you have a better treatment plan in mind, Dr. Remy?” Flann stretched under Abby’s caresses, indolent and satisfied.

“Mmm, I do.” Abby leaned down, kissed her, and quickly rose before her willpower deserted her. “Much more of that as often as possible.”

Flann grinned. “Sounds like the perfect prescription.”

EPILOGUE

Three Weeks Later

Thunder pulled Flann from a deep sleep. Rain pelted the tin roof of the old schoolhouse, filling the bedroom with a melody as familiar as her own heartbeat. Beyond the window, the faint gray light heralded the dawn. She listened to the sounds of the world awakening—a tree frog’s rumbling croak, the first trill of birdsong, the distant whistle of a freight train chugging along the river. Nature’s symphony washed over her like a soothing caress, but what warmed her most of all was Abby’s slow, steady breathing—her presence still new and already achingly central to Flann’s life. Abby slept on her side with her back to Flann, her hips pressed into the curve of Flann’s body as if they had been sculpted to fit together. Flann slid her hand around Abby’s middle and gently brushed her palm over the curve of her belly. Abby murmured, arched under her touch, and edged closer. Flann rested her cheek in the curve of Abby’s neck, breathing in the pure, clean scent of her hair and skin. The night was warm and they’d gone to sleep naked beneath the sheet. The sensation of Abby’s soft, warm skin against her nipples made her loins tighten.

“Mmm.” Flann kissed her neck.

“Again?” Abby murmured sleepily.

Flann chuckled. “What’s the matter, are you worn out already?”

“Three hundred times in three weeks? Not a chance.”

“That’s good. As I think we’ve got a few thousand more times to go.” Smiling, Flann cupped Abby’s breast and swept her thumb lightly over her nipple, inflamed as always by the quick indrawn breath, the tightening surge of Abby’s hips.

Abby turned onto her back, curved one arm around Flann’s neck, and drew her down for a kiss. “At least, but who’s counting.”

Flann kissed her again slowly, savoring the softness of her mouth, exulting in starting another day beside her. “I love you.”

Abby purred. “I love you too.” Another wave of thunder rolled through and Abby frowned. “Do you think they’re all right out in this?”

“Sure. Part of the fun of these weekend camping trips is getting caught in a rainstorm. They’ll be muddy and wet, but fine.” Flann rubbed her cheek on Abby’s breast and circled a tight nipple with her tongue. “He’ll love it.”

“It’s his first time with kids he doesn’t know. Who don’t know him.”

“Margie’s there, and Bill runs these outdoor work weekends like boot camp—everybody works, everybody contributes, no favorites. Bill will keep an eye on them, and they’ll have the pond cleared and be canoeing by noon.” Flann looked up, smoothed her thumb over the crease in Abby’s forehead. “And I asked Bill to keep an eye on him. He would anyhow, but I just wanted to be sure. It was Blake’s idea to go with the mountain club—we have to be as brave as he is.”

“I love you for loving him,” Abby said quietly, “but I fell in love with you for myself. I need you.”

Flann’s heart swelled. How had she gotten so lucky? “We need to do this every day.”

“Which part?” Abby teased, running her fingertips down Flann’s spine, caressing her ass. “Waking up together, having sex before the sun comes up, or sharing the joys and terror of raising a teen?”

“All of the above. I want to come home to you every night, wake up to you every morning, plan every day of my life with you and Blake.”

Abby’s eyes gleamed as she caressed Flann’s face. “Is that a proposal?”

“Damn right. I don’t just want us to live together. I want us to get married.”

“Married married, like married?” Abby’s voice trembled.

Flann laughed. “Dr. Remy, words seem to fail you this morning.”

“Oh no, I got that word just right. The whole deal, you mean.”

“I’ve never meant it more.” For just a second, Flann panicked. Hadn’t she been clear before that she wanted Abby to be hers, Abby and Blake? Granted, they’d spent just about every spare second since the barn raising in bed or figuring out how to get there, what with the way their schedules sometimes rarely lined up, but she’d thought she’d said everything she was feeling out loud. How could Abby not know? “I love you. I don’t want a life without you and Blake in it. Yes, hell yes, I want the whole deal. You said you wanted—”

“I know what I said. I want exactly the same thing. You are the one I want. Today, tomorrow, every day.” Abby kissed her, a firm, fiery, undeniable kiss of ownership. “The answer is yes, Flann. Always, yes.”

The tension in Flann’s chest eased, and she rested her forehead on Abby’s. “We’ve still got Harper and Presley’s wedding to get through, and—”

Abby laughed. “The wedding planning is not exactly a chore, but it is going to take everyone’s free time for the next little while. And then there’s Blake…”

“We should probably let him get settled in school first,” Flann said, “but I want to house hunt, okay?”

“Absolutely. If the three of us are going to be cohabitating, which it looks as if we are, we need a little more room.”

“Good. I saw a place just at the edge of town that looks perfect. Close enough so Blake can easily see his friends, but there’s good land, Abby. The house needs a little work, but—”

“Let’s go see it.”

“Until I met you,” Flann murmured, easing on top of Abby and framing her face so their eyes met, “I didn’t want to be needed. I was afraid I would fail somehow. That I might not be enough. You make me strong, Abby.”

Abby slid her leg behind Flann’s and pulled her into the cradle of her hips. “You have always been strong. And you’re everything I need.”

“God, Abby,” Flann whispered, feeling the hunger flare to life along with the joy. “You’re everything. I’ll never get enough of you.”

Abby smiled. “I’m glad to hear it, but I don’t mind if you try.”

About the Author

Radclyffe has written over forty-five romance and romantic intrigue novels, dozens of short stories, and, writing as L.L. Raand, has authored a paranormal romance series, The Midnight Hunters.

She is an eight-time Lambda Literary Award finalist in romance, mystery, and erotica—winning in both romance (Distant Shores, Silent Thunder) and erotica (Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments edited with Stacia Seaman and In Deep Waters 2: Cruising the Strip written with Karin Kallmaker). A member of the Saints and Sinners Literary Hall of Fame, she is also an RWA/FF&P Prism Award winner for Secrets in the Stone, an RWA FTHRW Lories and RWA HODRW winner for Firestorm, an RWA Bean Pot winner for Crossroads, and an RWA Laurel Wreath winner for Blood Hunt. In 2014 she was awarded the Dr. James Duggins Outstanding Mid-Career Novelist Award by the Lambda Literary Foundation.

She is also the president of Bold Strokes Books, one of the world’s largest independent LGBTQ publishing companies.

Find her at facebook.com/Radclyffe.BSB, follow her on Twitter @RadclyffeBSB, and visit her website at Radfic.com.

Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

Illicit Artifacts by Stevie Mikayne. Her foster mother’s death cracked open a secret world Jil never wanted to see...and now she has to pick up the stolen pieces. (978-1-62639-472-8)

Pathfinder by Gun Brooke. Heading for their new homeworld, Exodus’s chief engineer Adina Vantressa and nurse Briar Lindemay carry game-changing secrets that may well cause them to lose everything when disaster strikes. (978-1-62639-444-5)

Prescription for Love by Radclyffe. Dr. Flannery Rivers finds herself attracted to the new ER chief, city girl Abigail Remy, and the incendiary mix of city and country, fire and ice, tradition and change is combustible. (978-1-62639-570-1)

Ready or Not by Melissa Brayden. Uptight Mallory Spencer finds relinquishing control to bartender Hope Sanders too tall an order in fast-paced New York City. (978-1-62639-443-8)

Summer Passion by MJ Williamz. Women loving women is forbidden in 1946 Hollywood, yet Jean and Maggie strive to keep their love alive and away from prying eyes. (978-1-62639-540-4)

The Princess and the Prix by Nell Stark. “Ugly duckling” Princess Alix of Monaco was resigned to loneliness until she met racecar driver Thalia d’Angelis. (978-1-62639-474-2)

Winter’s Harbor by Aurora Rey. Lia Brooks isn’t looking for love in Provincetown, but when she discovers chocolate croissants and pastry chef Alex McKinnon, her winter retreat quickly starts heating up. (978-1-62639-498-8)

The Time Before Now by Missouri Vaun. Vivian flees a disastrous affair, embarking on an epic, transformative journey to escape her past, until destiny introduces her to Ida, who helps her rediscover trust, love, and hope. (978-1-62639-446-9)

Twisted Whispers by Sheri Lewis Wohl. Betrayal, lies, and secrets—whispers of a friend lost to darkness. Can a reluctant psychic set things right or will an evil soul destroy those she loves? (978-1-62639-439-1)

The Courage to Try by C.A. Popovich. Finding love is worth getting past the fear of trying. (978-1-62639-528-2)

Break Point by Yolanda Wallace. In a world readying for war, can love find a way? (978-1-62639-568-8)

Countdown by Julie Cannon. Can two strong-willed, powerful women overcome their differences to save the lives of seven others and begin a life they never imagined together? (978-1-62639-471-1)

Keep Hold by Michelle Grubb. Claire knew some things should be left alone and some rules should never be broken, but the most forbidden, well, they are the most tempting. (978-1-62639-502-2)

Deadly Medicine by Jaime Maddox. Dr. Ward Thrasher’s life is in turmoil. Her partner Jess left her, and her job puts her in the path of a murderous physician who has Jess in his sights. (978-1-62639-424-7)

New Beginnings by KC Richardson. Can the connection and attraction between Jordan Roberts and Kirsten Murphy be enough for Jordan to trust Kirsten with her heart? (978-1-62639-450-6)

Officer Down by Erin Dutton. Can two women who’ve made careers out of being there for others in crisis find the strength to need each other? (978-1-62639-423-0)

Reasonable Doubt by Carsen Taite. Just when Sarah and Ellery think they’ve left dangerous careers behind, a new case sets them—and their hearts—on a collision course. (978-1-62639-442-1)

Tarnished Gold by Ann Aptaker. Cantor Gold must outsmart the Law, outrun New York’s dockside gangsters, outplay a shady art dealer, his lover, and a beautiful curator, and stay out of a killer’s gun sights. (978-1-62639-426-1)

White Horse in Winter by Franci McMahon. Love between two women collides with the inner poison of a closeted horse trainer in the green hills of Vermont. (978-1-62639-429-2)

Autumn Spring by Shelley Thrasher. Can Bree and Linda, two women in the autumn of their lives, put their hearts first and find the love they’ve never dared seize? (978-1-62639-365-3)

The Renegade by Amy Dunne. Post-apocalyptic survivors Alex and Evelyn secretly find love while held captive by a deranged cult, but when their relationship is discovered, they must fight for their freedom—or die trying. (978-1-62639-427-8)

Thrall by Barbara Ann Wright. Four women in a warrior society must work together to lift an insidious curse while caught between their own desires, the will of their peoples, and an ancient evil. (978-1-62639-437-7)

The Chameleon’s Tale by Andrea Bramhall. Two old friends must work through a web of lies and deceit to find themselves again, but in the search they discover far more than they ever went looking for. (978-1-62639-363-9)

Side Effects by VK Powell. Detective Jordan Bishop and Dr. Neela Sahjani must decide if it’s easier to trust someone with your heart or your life as they face threatening protestors, corrupt politicians, and their increasing attraction. (978-1-62639-364-6)

Warm November by Kathleen Knowles. What do you do if the one woman you want is the only one you can’t have? (978-1-62639-366-0)

In Every Cloud by Tina Michele. When Bree finally leaves her shattered life behind, is she strong enough to salvage the remaining pieces of her heart and find the place where it truly fits? (978-1-62639-413-1)

Rise of the Gorgon by Tanai Walker. When independent Internet journalist Elle Pharell goes to Kuwait to investigate a veteran’s mysterious suicide, she hires Cassandra Hunt, an interpreter with a covert agenda. (978-1-62639-367-7)

Crossed by Meredith Doench. Agent Luce Hansen returns home to catch a killer and risks everything to revisit the unsolved murder of her first girlfriend and confront the demons of her youth. (978-1-62639-361-5)

Making a Comeback by Julie Blair. Music and love take center stage when jazz pianist Liz Randall tries to make a comeback with the help of her reclusive, blind neighbor, Jac Winters. (978-1-62639-357-8)

Soul Unique by Gun Brooke. Self-proclaimed cynic Greer Landon falls for Hayden Rowe’s paintings and the young woman shortly after, but will Hayden, who lives with Asperger syndrome, trust her and reciprocate her feelings? (978-1-62639-358-5)

The Price of Honor by Radclyffe. Honor and duty are not always black and white—and when self-styled patriots take up arms against the government, the price of honor may be a life. (978-1-62639-359-2)

Mounting Evidence by Karis Walsh. Lieutenant Abigail Hargrove and her mounted police unit need to solve a murder and protect wetland biologist Kira Lovell during the Washington State Fair. (978-1-62639-343-1)

Threads of the Heart by Jeannie Levig. Maggie and Addison Rae-McInnis share a love and a life, but are the threads that bind them together strong enough to withstand Addison’s restlessness and the seductive Victoria Fontaine? (978-1-62639-410-0)

Sheltered Love by MJ Williamz. Boone Fairway and Grey Dawson—two women touched by abuse—overcome their pasts to find happiness in each other. (978-1-62639-362-2)

Death’s Doorway by Crin Claxton. Helping the dead can be deadly: Tony may be listening to the dead, but she needs to learn to listen to the living. (978-1-62639-354-7)

Searching for Celia by Elizabeth Ridley. As American spy novelist Dayle Salvesen investigates the mysterious disappearance of her ex-lover, Celia, in London, she begins questioning how well she knew Celia—and how well she knows herself. (978-1-62639-356-1).

Hardwired by C.P. Rowlands. Award-winning teacher Clary Stone and Leefe Ellis, manager of the homeless shelter for small children, stand together in a part of Clary’s hometown that she never knew existed. (978-1-62639-351-6)

The Muse by Meghan O’Brien. Erotica author Kate McMannis struggles with writer’s block until a gorgeous muse entices her into a world of fantasy sex and inadvertent romance. (978-1-62639-223-6)