Chapter 14 #2
“Like what you see at least?” Sarah asked, her fingers tucking flyaway strands of hair behind her ear.
“Very much so,” Nell purred, and she spotted the faint blush that rose in Sarah’s cheeks as she turned toward the fire, concealing her pleased smile in a sip of hot chocolate.
Their hands were close enough that Nell could have easily brushed her fingers against Sarah’s. Now would have been the right moment. It’s probably what she expects you to do. Her fingers twitched before stilling as Nell decided not to make the move, instead pulling her hand away from Sarah.
They sipped their drinks as their bodies thawed, the roar of the fire crackling beside them. Heavy snow began to fall beyond the towering lodge windows.
Sarah turned toward her suddenly, guilt mixed with the reflection of the fire flickering in her eyes. “I’m sorry for being so checked-out yesterday. That wasn’t fair to you.”
“It’s fine,” Nell said, trying to convince herself that it had been. “Really. Your work is important. I, more than anyone, understand the importance of needing to work odd hours.”
Sarah shook her head. “But this was your weekend. You put effort into planning all of this, and I ate up so much of our time last night on the computer, away from you.”
“To be honest . . .” Nell shifted, crossing one long leg over the other. “I’m kind of glad you had work yesterday. It distracted you from the terrible mood I was in.”
Sarah cocked her head, looking at her with curiosity. Maybe her bad mood hadn’t been as apparent as it felt to her.
“I spent most of yesterday thoroughly annoyed at everything because it wasn’t going exactly to plan. First, there was the plane, followed by the traffic, and then missing our dinner reservation. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
“How about this?” Sarah picked up her hot chocolate, encouraging her to do the same. “Let’s cheers to our respective shitty days yesterday and put it behind us. We still have the rest of the weekend to look forward to and enjoy together.”
Nell smiled, almost laughing. It was absurd, the idea of cheers-ing to a bad day. But when Sarah said it, it didn’t sound silly. It sounded like exactly what she needed.
“Cheers, I guess,” she said, bumping her cup against Sarah’s.
“Cheers to an amazing weekend, with amazing company.”
Nell felt her cheeks go red under the weight of Sarah’s compliment.
“Did you get everything sorted out, then, with work?” Nell stammered, trying to nudge the conversation away from dangerous territory.
Sarah’s smile faded slightly, in a way only noticeable to Nell.
She watched as Sarah swirled the remaining liquid in her cup.
“Kind of. Technically, yes, but . . . I don’t know.
I’m not sure I care anymore,” Sarah let out in one long breath, “about the firm or the work or any of it. I’m not sure I’ve cared for a while now. ”
Sarah’s dissatisfaction with work was new information to Nell, and not what she had been anticipating.
“I’ve been thinking about taking some time off,” Sarah continued. “Not too long. Just long enough to figure some things out.”
She leaned back, eyeing Sarah for signs of uncertainty but finding none. “That’s a big deal.”
“I know. But I need to do something different for a while. Something that makes me feel like I’m making a positive impact on the world, not contributing to the early downfall of humanity, you know?” Sarah looked at her with those questioning eyes.
Nell stilled. “Do you want advice,” she asked, after a moment, “or to be heard?”
Sarah glanced at her, surprised by the question. “Advice, please.”
Nell smiled, a little, partly because she liked that Sarah wanted advice from her and trusted her in that way, and partly because she had been right from the very beginning about Sarah and her having ambitions that extended beyond the courtroom. Nell could work with that.
“Take the time off to figure out what’s next, guilt-free. Give yourself permission to want something more.”
Sarah made to respond as two women brushed past them, the clunk of their ski boots heavy on the slate floors. One was complaining loudly to the other: “Can you believe the lifts are closing early? All because a little storm is rolling in.”
She followed Sarah’s gaze to the window, where the sky had darkened to a heavy gray.
“There goes the rest of our ski day,” Nell muttered, her optimism from earlier quickly disappearing.
Sarah looked back at her with bright eyes and a smile so soft that Nell couldn’t help but reciprocate. “I can’t think of anyone I’d want to be snowed in with more than you.”
Nell’s heart did a traitorous little dance in her chest, and she stiffened, unfamiliar with the feeling, which she was currently masking in an unrushed sip of hot chocolate.
Back at the chalet that evening, the storm raged on beyond the windows, having turned into a full-blown whiteout by the time Sarah had found a cribbage board tucked away in one of the upstairs bedroom drawers.
Nell laughed as Sarah descended the stairs triumphantly, game held over her head like she’d found buried treasure.
“Cribbage?” she asked, two glasses of bourbon in hand as she joined Sarah on the massive faux-fur throw she had laid out on the floor in front of the fire.
“Yeah. Don’t knock it,” Sarah said, plopping herself down on the floor across from Nell and crossing her legs. “I’ll go easy on you for your first time playing me.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d need a competitive advantage.” Nell smirked as she shifted to face Sarah. “Did you ever consider that I might have to go easy on you?”
“Only one way to find out.” Sarah shook the box in her hands gingerly.
So they played. And played. And played. Somehow, one drink turned into two, and every so often, one of them would get up and add another log to the fire crackling next to them. They eventually abandoned the game as the two of them meandered their way through thought after thought, talking.
It was nonsensical and illogical, but it worked, and Nell found herself craving more. This comfort between them wasn’t new, but tonight, it felt different to her. Tonight, it was tender and exposed in a way that completely disarmed her.
Sarah was sitting up now, leaning back on her hands, face glowing in the golden light from the fire.
“I know you were feeling like this weekend hasn’t been perfect.
” Her voice was soft, so soft, making her lean in closer.
“But it has been. It’s been absolutely perfect, and I really needed this. This time with just . . . you.”
Caught off guard, Nell tore her eyes from where they had been lingering on Sarah’s lips to meet her gaze. “Why are you always saying things like that?” she asked quietly.
Sarah didn’t flinch. “Because I always mean them.”
Nell dropped her gaze to the cribbage board still set up between them, and then to Sarah’s hand, where it rested so close to her own.
It would take minimal effort on her part to reach out and take her hand and tell Sarah what she so clearly wanted to hear from her.
But, frozen to the spot, Nell didn’t move.
“I don’t know what this is,” Nell admitted, her voice lost beneath the crackling of the fire. “Our arrangement . . .” Sarah shifted, leaning closer to her, making her heart beat faster.
“It doesn’t have to be anything more than this. Right now, we’re just us.”
Nell let out a slow breath, her chest dropping with the weight of her exhale. “I was right about you,” she whispered, while Sarah inched closer to her still. “I knew you were going to be dangerous.”
“I’m not dangerous. I’m just honest.”
Nell reached forward and brushed honey-brown hair from Sarah’s face, letting her fingers linger a moment to memorize the exact slope of Sarah’s cheekbone and the way it felt cradled in her hand before she pulled Sarah’s lips to hers.
This kiss was unlike all their others. It was delicate.
Gentle. Unhurried. It asked questions she didn’t have answers for—questions Sarah answered by leaning in and kissing her again, deeper this time, running her tongue along the inside of her lip as her hands found Nell’s waist, sliding under the hem of her sweater.
She hadn’t given Sarah permission to touch her.
Sarah knew the rules.
But Nell didn’t care.
She wanted to feel as much of Sarah as she could as she melted into her touch. The fire popped beside them, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. It was only the two of them now.
Something hard cut into her knee—the cribbage board. She quickly nudged it out of the way, sending pieces scattering across the rug. Nell pulled away, her whispered demand dripping with need. “Tell me what you want.”
Sarah looked at her with rosy cheeks and eyes so dark with a type of desire Nell had never encountered before.
“You,” Sarah said simply, reaching out for a fistful of Nell’s sweater, pulling her down on top of her until their bodies pressed together.
She used her knee to part Sarah’s legs, pressing her thigh against her, groaning at the heat radiating from Sarah. Her fingers found Sarah’s hair as she placed kisses along her perfect jawline, taking her bottom lip between her teeth, biting softly, drowning in the noise Sarah made.
Sarah moaned into her ear, sending a shiver through her as she cupped her ass, pulling her closer.
But something stopped Nell. She rocked back onto her knees, extracting herself from Sarah, looking down at her—sprawled across the blanket in front of the fire, breathing heavily as she looked back at her with inquisitive eyes—and it was like she was seeing Sarah for the first time again.
The quiet power she always carried that she never quite seemed to be aware of.
The intensity of her mind and the pure goodness of her heart all on full display.
It was enough to make Nell second-guess the rules she had so carefully crafted for herself to live by.