Rebecca’s Cove

Chapter 1

“That’s the best line you could come up with?” The blonde tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the linen-covered table.

“Well, on such short notice,” the brunette quipped. She took a healthy swallow of the vodka gimlet at her elbow.

Hobie Allen was beginning to enjoy this. She thought dining in a restaurant alone would be dreadfully boring, but the women at the table next to her were unknowingly providing some first-rate entertainment. It was difficult not to eavesdrop when her table was only a few feet away from the arguing couple.

“You’re a writer and the best excuse you can dream up is that it’s just not working?”

“You have to give me some credit. I am awfully drunk,” the brunette slurred. She grinned at her own wittiness.

“I would have thought I rated better. After all, we’ve been dating for two weeks.”

“No, dear, we’ve been having sex for two weeks. We haven’t gone anywhere...done anything. It’s just been sex in every elevator and motel in Chicago. Technically,” she motioned around her with one hand, “this is our first date.”

“You are the most arrogant, shallow—”

“You’re calling me shallow? You are by far the most self-involved person I’ve ever met, and I should know. Up until now, I was the most self-involved person I’d ever met.”

“Enjoy your dinner, you bitch!” The next act was textbook, and everyone in the restaurant saw it coming—everyone except the inebriated brunette. The blonde stood and with one swift movement tossed her drink into the other woman’s face.

The recipient of the white wine bath jumped up to keep the rest of the drink out of her lap. She grabbed a napkin and wiped her face, relieved that most of the liquid had missed her. Now standing, the woman towered over the waiters who anxiously scurried around her.

Hobie watched out of the corner of her eye. Obviously, this woman was somebody. The staff fell all over themselves trying to help her. Although Hobie was of above-average height at 5’6”, this woman looked well over six feet tall. She had dark hair that fell just to the tops of her ears and was parted on one side. When she looked down to dry off her slacks, Hobie sneaked an eyeful. Long legs, broad shoulders, and soft gray eyes filled out the package. When the woman glanced back up, she looked directly into Hobie’s gaze. A pregnant pause lasted longer than good manners called for, but Hobie felt trapped. The stranger’s short hair dipped seductively over one eye in a way that reminded Hobie of a young Elvis.

Suddenly, she winked at Hobie and shrugged her shoulders as if caught doing something foolish. Hobie felt herself smiling until she realized it felt a lot like flirting. Instantly, her defenses went up and she felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck. She pulled her gaze away from the standing woman and trained her eyes on the work she had brought along to dinner.

Throughout her meal, Hobie couldn’t quite get over the feeling that someone was watching her. She didn’t dare look over at the brunette again. That’s all I need. Remember, Hob, you’re going home tomorrow. Do not get crazy in the big city. Hobie read the journal before her, pausing occasionally to make a note in her Palm hand-held. The five-day conference had been wonderful. Not only had she learned some interesting techniques to take back to her patients, but a week in Chicago had been a much-needed vacation.

Amessage flashed across Hobie’s PDA. She stopped chewing on the end of the stylus. One sentence came up on the small screen.

I’d like to know what it feels like to kiss you.

Immediately, Hobie’s head jerked up. Fully expecting to run headlong into a leering Michigan Avenue businessman’s gaze, she scanned the room. Of course, that was probably what the computer stalker wanted, but she couldn’t help herself. It was rather like having someone tell her not to look at the person seated at the next table. Her first impulse had always been to look. Much later, Hobie realized that it was her next action that changed her life completely.

She didn’t see a leer, but instead met a set of dazzling gray eyes that caused her lungs to forget why they were there. By the time Hobie caught her breath, she realized she was smiling back at the brunette who had slipped a slim PDA into her own coat pocket.

Don’t smile, Hobie Lynn! Are you insane? This is an order. Do not smile! Do not encourage her. The voice in Hobie’s head shouted at her. That voice kept her from doing anything utterly stupid in her life—when she listened to it, that is. She was fond of ignoring the voice. Each time her actions brought about disastrous consequences, she always swore that the next time, she would listen. She rarely did.

This night was no different as Hobie felt a tightening in her abdomen at the beautiful woman’s overture. It had been a very long time since she’d felt that sensation. Hobie hadn’t really said yes or no when she found the stranger seated opposite her and the waiter bringing them fresh drinks.

“I couldn’t possibly let you walk out of this restaurant without telling you that I’d like to make tonight the most exciting night of your life,” the stranger said.

“You’re taking me to Disneyland?” Hobie tossed back. She would have laughed aloud at the opening line if anyone else had delivered it. The brunette’s charming smile never faltered and she appeared entirely confident, as though being turned down was a foreign concept. Even though the stranger’s eyes gave nothing away, Hobie could tell that she had consumed a good deal of alcohol. There was a definite slur to her speech and an unsteadiness to the way she held her body. Unfortunately, those small defects made her even more appealing.

“That’s good. You’re quick. I like that. I’m terribly attracted to you, however.”

“You’re also very drunk, aren’t you?”

“Oh, no, not by any stretch. I don’t allow myself to get very drunk until after midnight. I’m only moderately drunk.”

Hobie had no control of the light laughter that escaped her. Drunk or sober, the woman across from her was damned charming. Hobie suspected she knew it, too. The woman took Hobie’s reaction as acquiescence and slid her chair closer. Hobie noticed the subtle maneuver.

“Tell me, didn’t you just break up with someone over at that table?”

“Who, me? No. She was my secretary. I had to fire her.” She leaned in close and whispered, “She steals. It’s a sad case. I’m afraid it’s compulsive.”

“Steals, eh?” Hobie leaned back and eyed the woman. “What did she steal?”

“What?”

“Steal. What did she steal?” “Um...Wite-Out.”

“Oh, please!” Hobie laughed and folded her arms across her chest.

“Well, I didn’t want to say this...there were Post-it Notes, too. You’d be surprised how that stuff can add up, can take a Fortune 500 company right down the tubes.”

“You sure you’re not on an evening release from some mental health facility?”

“All right, yes.” The brunette chuckled and sat up straight. “Not about the release, but I was seeing her. I’m not anymore. I hate to dwell on the pain, though. So out with the old and in with the new.”

“It certainly didn’t take you long to get over the unending heartache.” Hobie couldn’t help but join in the playful banter.

“I’m a quick healer and, after all,” the woman’s brow furrowed, “it was quite a while ago.”

“Quite a while? You call waiting two hours before hitting on another woman quite a while?”

“Well,” the stranger graced Hobie with that same rakish grin, “I did wait for an hour after eating my dinner before I came over here. An hour’s the right amount of time, isn’t it? Or is that swimming? I always get the two confused.”

Hobie laughed so hard that tears came to her eyes. Wearing a smug expression, the brunette leaned back in her chair.

“You are incorrigible and I’m sure I shouldn’t even be talking to you. I’d say that you’re the kind of woman my mother warned me about.”

The brunette leaned in close again. “I’d say that your mother was a very smart woman. No, really, come on. At least let me take you out on the town. It’s a beautiful night.”

“I don’t even know your name.” “BJ Warren.” She held out her hand.

“Hobie Allen,” the auburn-haired woman responded. She shook the offered hand.

“There, now we’re properly introduced. What do you say?” Hobie could hardly hear herself speak over the screaming

of the voice in the back of her mind. “All right, I’ll go out with you.”

“You won’t be sorry.”

“You do know that I have no intention of sleeping with you, though,” Hobie said.

BJ smiled.

“I have to insist on a verbal acknowledgment of that fact.” BJ paused. “I acknowledge that at this moment, you firmly believe that to be true.”

Hobie shook her head. She couldn’t understand why she was agreeing to this. It was completely opposite to the way she lived her life. “You truly are something else.”

“I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.” The women stood, and BJ had to still herself momentarily to shake the cobwebs from her brain.

“Tell me you’re not driving,” Hobie said. “There are three rules I always adhere to.” “And they are?”

“I always pay my taxes by April fifteenth, I never have unprotected sex with someone I don’t know, and I never drink and drive.”

“You’re a poster child for the American way.”

“One does what one can,” BJ said with a grin.

They walked out of the restaurant and Hobie was surprised that BJ wasn’t tripping all over herself. Either she’d had a great deal of experience functioning while inebriated or the alcohol hadn’t affected her as much as Hobie thought. The air was much chillier than it had been earlier when Hobie walked to the restaurant. She rubbed her hands across the goose bumps on her arms.

“Would you mind if I went back to my hotel room for a jacket?” Hobie asked.

“Not at all, I’m sorry. Where are you staying?”

Hobie pointed to the building they were standing next to. “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?”

“Let me ask you something,” Hobie began as they entered the brightly lit lobby. “You act as though you know I don’t live here.”

BJ shrugged. “You have that tourist look about you. Besides, not many native Chicagoans have that good of a tan in April.”

“Oh. Um, why don’t you wait down here and I’ll be right back?”

“Why don’t I come up with you?” “I’ll just be a sec.”

“And you’re afraid I’m going to accost you in the elevator.” “No, I didn’t say that.”

“Maybe you’re just afraid that you can’t resist me after all.” “I don’t see that happening.”

BJ made a few clucking noises under her breath. It was the proverbial last straw.

“I am not chicken! Oh, okay. Come on.” “What a charming offer.”

Hobie turned to glare at BJ, who quickly raised her hands. “Just kidding,” she said.

To Hobie, the silence in the elevator was deafening. She nervously cleared her throat as she wondered once again why she was doing this. “In the restaurant, how did you know I was gay?” The question had nagged her from the start.

“I didn’t,” BJ said. She leaned against the wall and fixed a gaze on Hobie that she felt all the way to her toes.

Either this woman has all the confidence in the world or she’s really that good, Hobie thought. She let herself become lost in the other woman’s penetrating gaze. It was hypnotizing, and Hobie felt as if she would do just about anything the woman asked while she stared at her like that.

“Oh,” Hobie said softly. The elevator doors opened before she could pursue that line of thought any further.

Once inside the room, Hobie retrieved the white linen jacket that went with her skirt. “Okay, ready to roll.”

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” BJ smiled wearily at Hobie.

“Of course not, it’s right through there. Do you feel okay?” “Sure, I won’t be a minute.”

Hobie stood before the window looking out onto the moonlit landscape of Chicago. She heard the water running in the bathroom and wondered again what she was doing in her hotel room with a drunken stranger. I just want the company, that’s all. I mean, I made it clear that I’m not going any further than having a few drinks. Oh, good Lord, Hobie, don’t lie, especially to yourself. You know damn well that if she looks at you one more time like she did in that elevator, you’re going to forget your resolve. You’re going to forget who you are and where you come from, and you’re going to jump into bed with her. There’s only one answer. I have to call this off and send her on her way, plain and simple.

“Breathtaking view.”

Hobie felt warm breath along the edge of her right ear and she hoped the shiver that ran across her skin wasn’t noticeable. “Um, yes. The city’s beautiful at night.”

“That wasn’t the view I was talking about.”

Fingertips slid along the skin of Hobie’s arms. She closed her eyes to the pleasing sensation and realized just how long it had been since anyone had touched her in that way. Soft lips on the back of her neck snapped her mind back to reality.

She spun around in BJ’s arms and stopped her as she leaned in to claim Hobie’s lips in a kiss. Hobie pushed against her chest with both hands.

“Oh, no, you don’t. This is exactly what I don’t need,” Hobie protested. She escaped to the other side of the room.

“Did that sound as unconvincing to you as it did to me?” BJ’s voice flowed across Hobie’s senses like warm honey. BJ slowly made her way across the room. Hobie looked up with big green eyes that appeared spellbound. “Because, Hobie, I think deep down that you think this is exactly what you need.”

Hobie suspected that was the same phrase BJ used all the time. Afew of the words might change now and again, but she had the feeling that the sentiment always reeled them in. BJ smiled in a way that Hobie suspected no woman resisted for long before she leaned in once more, but this time, Hobie didn’t stop her. Hobie looked like a small frightened rabbit, too afraid to run and too frightened not to.

BJ brushed her lips against Hobie’s, gently at first.

The strangled moan that came from Hobie’s throat was a dead giveaway. She slipped her arms around BJ’s neck and they shared a kiss unlike anything either of them had ever experienced.

Asound like sheer delight escaped BJ’s lips as the two broke apart for air. Seconds later, Hobie tangled her fingers in BJ’s short dark hair and drew her down for another passionate kiss. BJ slipped her hands under Hobie’s jacket and pulled her closer.

“Good God, that was—I mean—where did you learn to kiss like that?” BJ stammered breathlessly when they once again parted for breath.

The sound of BJ’s voice cut directly through Hobie’s libidinous haze. “What in the hell am I doing?” She tried to take a step back, but BJ still held her tightly in her arms.

“Well, if you don’t know, let me be the first to tell you that you’re a natural,” BJ said as her body swayed back and forth.

“God in heaven, what am I doing?”

“Hey, it’s not that bad.” BJ was slurring her words more than before.

“Not that bad?” Hobie nearly shouted. “I’m making out with a complete stranger who’s so drunk she can barely stand!”

BJ furrowed her brow in confusion. “You mean I’m still standing?”

“Oh, God! I don’t believe this is happening!” Hobie freed herself from BJ’s embrace and whirled around. “I do not do this kind of thing. I never let my body think for me. I mean, that’s not me. I’m a hopeless romantic, not the kind of woman who sleeps around. I need time to get to know you, romance...maybe some flowers. I’m so sorry, BJ. You seem like an incredible woman, but I just can’t—”

Hobie turned and the sight caused her to freeze. It took a full five seconds before her brain could slip into gear and impel her body forward. “Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no!”

Hobie rushed to the bed and BJ, who lay sprawled across it. “Don’t you dare! BJ, wake up. Wake up, damn it!” Hobie sat on the bed and lightly slapped the unconscious woman’s cheek. “Oh, God, please don’t do this to me. I swear, I will never, ever do this again. If you help me out of this one, I promise to start going to Mass more, and I promise I will never again act like a slut.”

Hobie looked down at the prone woman and realized that help would not be coming from above, at least not anytime soon. “BJ, please, you cannot stay here.” Hobie shook the woman’s shoulders one more time.

BJ made a small sound and rolled over, hugging the pillow beside her. She wore a pleasant expression, the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile. Hobie gave up in exasperation, her arms falling to her sides and defeat in her eyes. “This is why I don’t do things like this,” she said quietly to the sleeping woman. “This could only happen to me.”

BJ couldn’t understand why there was a maid walking on the ceiling until she realized that her head hung over the end of the bed. The slim brown-skinned woman who approached BJ did so upside down. The sight made BJ dizzy, which caused her stomach to begin its protestation of the previous evening’s alcohol consumption.

“May I clean the room yet, ma’am?” the hotel maid asked. BJ swallowed and cautiously examined the inside of her mouth with her tongue. She had been sure she would find cotton stuffed there. Finding no such substance, she swallowed a few more times. “Time?” she finally rasped.

“Excuse me?” “What time is it?”

“It’s 2:00 p.m., ma’am. The other one said not to wake you until after noon. She said to bring up a meal if you weren’t awake by now. Are you hungry?” She lifted the silver-domed lid covering a white porcelain plate.

The aroma, which under ordinary circumstances would have been tantalizing, struck BJ like an unseen blow to the stomach. She could feel the small rumble begin. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you get that food as far away from this room as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

By the time the maid wheeled the cart to the elevator and had a busboy return it to the kitchen, BJ was sitting up on the side of the bed.

“Bless you,” she mumbled. “Here you go.” She held out a hundred-dollar bill.

“Oh, no, ma’am, you don’t have to do that. Your friend gave me a big enough tip to make my day.”

“I don’t have any friends,” BJ said instinctively. She fought to remember who the woman was she had been with the night before. “Been with” would have to be used loosely since BJ had woken up in bed by herself and fully clothed. Who the hell was she?

“Well, this gal checked out and paid me to do what I done for you so far. She even paid for an extra day ’cause she said you would probably sleep late,” the maid explained.

It isn’t exactly the first time I’ve passed out, but not even remembering what in the hell I did, that’s new. BJ ran her fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp. Her head felt as heavy as a bowling ball. She couldn’t believe that a total stranger had gone to that much trouble, especially after she had passed out on her. She had an odd feeling about the encounter. She couldn’t remember any particulars, but there was something there. It was something unlike anything she had known before. Thinking back, she drew a blank on the evening after breaking up with...what was that girl’s name?

“I don’t believe this shit,” she said aloud. I can’t even remember the girl’s name that I’ve been screwing for the last two weeks. “You’re a case, Warren. This is why I don’t do things like this,” she said to the uncomprehending maid. “This could only happen to me.”