Chapter 4
Evie
Idon’t even know how many orgasms we had last night between us. All I know is, I wake up to the dim winter sunlight coming through the arched glass transoms at the top of the high, linen-covered windows, and Dru is sleeping beside me.
I study her profile: her lush mouth, her angular jaw, her long lashes. The high cheekbones. And even in her sleep, there’s a hint of the dimple in her cheek. I ache to reach out, to press my finger there. I don’t even know why.
Her short brown hair is a bit of a mess, and I take some pleasure in knowing it’s my fault. Even more pleasure in the fact that her long leg is draped over my thigh, and her warm hand is wrapped around mine.
She stirs, and I wait, wondering if they’ll wake up, or if I have a little longer to lay there and watch them.
Admire the clean lines of their face, their androgynous beauty that’s always drawn me in.
She stretches a bit, then her eyes flutter open.
She turns her head to me, and her smile devastates me.
“Hi,” she says, her voice rough with sleep. “You’re really here.”
I smile back. “Yeah. I am.”
She turns onto her side, and her sleepy hazel eyes gleam with bits of gold and green and a touch of silver. My heart thumps in my chest as she brings my hand to her lips and kisses the back of it.
I groan.
“What is it, darlin’?”
“You have no idea what that does to me.”
“What? This?” She kisses my hand again, and a shiver runs through me.
“You’re going to need to stop that if you ever want to get out of this bed.”
“Who says I do?” she answers with a grin. “Except nature calls. And I’m starving. How about you? Let me feed you some breakfast?”
“Oh, yes, please.”
She brushes a kiss across my mouth, and it’s all I can do to let her pull away before she gets out of the bed and stretches, her lean, lanky form silhouetted in the morning light coming through the curtains. Naked, she moves to the bathroom door, then turns to me.
“I’m sorry, pretty girl. I’m being a terrible host. Do you want to go first?”
“No, I can wait.”
She comes back out a minute later. “Okay, teeth are brushed, and now I can kiss you properly,” she says, launching herself onto the bed on top of me.
“But mine aren’t! Dru!” I yelp as she plants her mouth on mine, but I refuse to part my lips.
“Okay, go brush so I can kiss you,” she orders.
“I don’t have a tooth brush with me.”
“There’s a new package of fresh ones under the sink. Second drawer.”
I hate having to get out of bed, but my mouth definitely needs a good cleaning, and I have to pee.
Once everything is taken care of, I walk out and find them wearing a pair of black boxer briefs and a white wife-beater, their dark nipples visible through the thin fabric.
“Mmm, that’s my favorite outfit,” I tell her, my legs going weak simply seeing her like this.
“Is it? Mine is the one you have on,” she says, her gaze roaming my body.
“Uh, I’m not wearing anything.”
“Nope, you sure aren’t. I meant what I said,” she says with a wink. “But I don’t want you to get cold. My robe is on the back of the bathroom door, and I’ve turned the heat up. I’m starting breakfast. Coffee?”
“Oh, yes, coffee, please.”
“Go grab that robe, sweetheart. Those succulent nipples are starting to look like they could cut glass.”
“Hey!”
She grins, and is about to turn away, but I grab her hand.
“What happened to kissing me properly?”
Her grin widens, and she pulls me in close, her mouth coming down on mine.
Her lips are soft and demanding all at the same time, and desire simmers in my body once more, my pussy growing wet as her arms wrap around behind my back, and I love how possessively she holds me.
Her tongue opens my lips, and I take her in, tasting toothpaste and her.
She pulls back just when I start to feel like we need to get back into bed right now.
“If I don’t stop no one is getting coffee,” she says, her tone low and full of smoke.
“Mmm, okay,” I answer reluctantly.
“Robe. Now,” she commands, smacking my bare ass.
I spin around to wiggle it at her and she gives me another playful smack, reminding me that there’s a conversation to be had. She chuckles as I go back to the bathroom to find her robe.
It’s on a hook on the back of the door, made out of gray sweatshirt material with a fleece lining.
I’m sure it’s short on her, but it hangs just below my knees.
I draw the hood up over my hair and pad on bare feet to the kitchen to the sound and rich scent of a coffee grinder, and when I get to the counter she pulls out a French press from the cupboard.
“I’m a little bougie when it comes to my coffee,” she says.
“I can appreciate a good cup of coffee.”
“Excellent. Still a lot of cream and a dash of turbinado sugar?”
“You…how do you remember that?”
“Like I said last night, I remember pretty much everything about you, Evie. Uh, not in a stalker-y way, I promise. Now come sit at the counter while I make you some French toast. We’re going full pseudo-Parisian this morning.”
She sends me another wink, and it might seem cheesy on anyone else, but from her, it’s sexy as hell.
I do as she says, slipping onto a stool at the big island, running my hands over the surface. “I love these poured concrete counters. In fact, I love this whole place.”
“Thanks. I was able to redo the kitchen and the bathroom before I moved in. Did some of the work myself, like painting and refinishing the floors, but I had someone else pour the counters and install the new cabinets and do the tile work. I can lay tile, but I wanted to spend more time converting the outbuildings into kennels.”
“The kennel setup is pretty awesome, too. How many dogs do you have here?”
“Right now we’re at twenty-five, and we have four litters of puppies being fostered.
But after the holidays we’ll have a lot more, I’m sure, even with all the adoptions.
All of those people who get pets as Christmas gifts, then realize how much work they are.
We’ll get dogs adopted from here returned, plus puppies from all over the county. ”
“People sure do suck. The only reason I don’t have a dog myself yet is because I don’t want to leave it alone while I’m at work all day. I feel like if I’m going to take on the responsibility of another life, I need to be sure I’m actually able to be responsible about it.”
“My thoughts exactly. Well, when you’re ready to adopt, you know where to come,” she says.
“What about you, Dru?” I ask with a little bit of hesitance. “I haven’t seen Rocky, so I’m guessing…?”
“Yeah. He passed about two years ago. He was fifteen; old for a pittie. I got this for him last year.”
She holds out her forearm to show me the American-traditional style tattoo of her beloved dog’s sweet face. He’s got a knit beanie and a sailor collar on and is smoking a pipe, and the background is a loop of rope and the ocean. The banner below his face says ‘Rocky’.
I stroke a fingertip over the ink. “It’s beautiful work. And such a lovely way to remember him. I sort of noticed you had some new ink last night, but I was… distracted. But I remember him. He was such a good boy.”
“The love of my life,” she says, shrugging, but I can see the discussion has made her emotional.
“You mean it wasn’t Marcy?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
“Oh, God no,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Marcy was a year-long mistake. Except that’s how I met you.”
Her gaze is on mine, and I feel as if she’s looking right through me, into me, and I shiver. I can’t help it. I feel so incredibly connected to her.
The kettle whistles, and she breaks her hold on me, turning to pour the hot water through the French press.
“It’s true, though,” she says, her back to me as she slowly presses the plunger down. “If it weren’t for Marcy, I would never have known you, so I don’t see that relationship as a loss. I never have. I learned what I don’t want. And who I do.”
Her back is still to me, and it’s probably a good thing, because her words go through me like a warm caress, making my breath catch. Has she really wanted me this whole time? The same way I’ve wanted her?
“It was so hard,” I tell her, “to hang out with you two all the time. When we went to Pride together that year…”
“And Marcy got totally hammered? Yeah, she was kind of a nightmare at Pride.”
“Her partying was one reason why I asked her to move out,” I admit. “It was after you two broke up, and she really went wild for a few months.”
She hands me my coffee mug, sliding it across the counter, then leaning on it, her own mug cupped in her hands.
“Remember those movie nights at your place?” she asks, her gaze on mine once more.
“Yeah, of course.”
“I have to tell you, by the end of the relationship, it was kinda killing me that I was there with her, and not you.”
My heart hammers in my chest. My heart, or a thousand butterflies frantically beating their wings. “It was?”
“Yeah. I’ve thought about you a lot since then. Always hoped I’d run into you somewhere. There aren’t that many lesbian clubs in San Francisco anymore, or in Oakland. But I always kept my fingers crossed. I sort of can’t believe we never did bump into each other.”
“Well, I got my Masters around the time the two of you split up, and then the job up north started right after the night I saw you at that Christmas party.” I pause, the memory of that night hanging in the air between us.
“I didn’t have a chance to tell you I’d gotten a new job and was moving away. ”
“Yeah. And now here we are, six years later.” She bites her lip, then slides her hand across the cool concrete to grab mine. “I am really damn glad you showed up last night.”
“You are?” I’m not being coy on purpose; I just need to hear her confirm it—that she’s feeling the same things I am right now.
“Yeah. Evie, can you stay for a few days? Or do you have to get back to work?”