Chapter 6 Rory
RORY
When the performance finished and the curtain calls were over, the families walked back out to the gardens.
The grandmothers and mothers were waxing lyrical about the performance, but it was painfully obvious that neither the fathers nor Gemma and Rory had really been paying attention to the performance.
“I don’t know.” Phyllis complained. “Why do we spend money on you lot just to have you sleep through the performance?”
When she had left home this morning, she had braced herself for a tedious evening of family chit-chat and an inquisition about her broken engagement, even though it had been several months ago.
When her mother let slip that Gemma would be there, she’d tensed at the thought that the other woman would be frosty and argumentative, as she had every right to be after how Rory had treated her.
But this warm and flirty version of Gemma was something her body was not prepared for, and her hands seemed to have a mind of their own.
She would have given anything to have been alone in the box with Gemma, to allow her fingers to fully explore that voluptuous body.
She took herself in check and again offered her arm to Mary to walk her back to the table.
Even though the opera had finished, the gardens would stay open for another hour or so for those who wanted to enjoy the spring evening.
Rory noticed Gemma hugging her arms around herself and was about to offer her jacket to her when Gemma’s dad spoke up.
“Look, rather than open another bottle of wine here, why don’t we head back to the hotel? We could have a few drinks in the bar before turning in?” George winked at Peter, and they shared a conspiratorial smile.
“You mean, we could sit in the bar and you two can slope off and play snooker.” Isabelle chided her husband gently but didn’t dismiss the idea.
“Not for me.” Phyllis addressed everyone in general and no one in particular. “If we are having a pool day tomorrow, then I will need my beauty sleep. I will go straight to bed as soon as we get back.”
Rory’s head snapped up. What pool day were they talking about?
“Umm, pool day?” Gemma spoke before Rory had time to express her own thoughts.
“Yes.” Gemma’s mum, Isabelle replied. “We discussed it while you and Rory were looking at the sculptures. There’s an outdoor pool at the hotel, and it’s going to be glorious weather tomorrow.
We thought we could spend the day by the pool and then have a lovely family dinner tomorrow night before you go back to London on Sunday.
I’m sure you can spend another night here; you said there was nothing on your calendar this weekend. ”
Rory saw a flash of anger cross Gemma's face before it was quickly replaced by one of resignation. She remembered how pushy Gemma’s mum was and sympathised with her friend.
Her sympathies only went so far, however, as she was desperately trying to think of a way to get out of being by a swimming pool all day.
The last thing she needed was to be exposed to her family in swimwear.
She racked her brain to try to get out of it but came up short.
The champagne and red wine causing her synapses to run slower.
Hopefully, by tomorrow she could come up with a reason not to attend.
“But I have to get the train back tomorrow.” Gemma sounded as uneasy about the plan as Rory felt. “I’ll have to leave just after lunch as there are replacement busses.”
“Nonsense,” Phyllis interjected. “You can stay another night, and Aurora will drive you back on Sunday.”
Wait, what? Rory’s mouth dropped open, and her frazzled brain tried to catch up.
“Close your mouth, Aurora.” Her grandmother snapped before moving the conversation on.
Rory quickly snapped her mouth shut and felt a chill wash over her at the use of her full name and her grandmother’s insistence that she do her bidding.
As she usually did, Rory’s grandmother had issued an edict that no one would question.
Rory knew she had no option but to acquiesce.
Her immediate problem was how to get out of this pool-day idea that had sprung up.
Before her grandmother had told her to drive Gemma home, she had briefly thought about inventing some reason to be back in London, but aside from apprehension about what she would wear, she was looking forward to spending more time with Gemma.
She was still thinking about it an hour later as she and her parents pulled up to the hotel.
She helped her mother out of the taxi and nodded at the porter hovering near the door.
Unlike Gemma, she had arrived earlier that afternoon and had checked into the hotel prior to the opera.
She noticed Gemma heading to the reception desk and moved to join her.
“I need to take my case up to my room, could you tell my parents where I’ve gone?” Gemma laid a hand on Rory’s arm, and Rory felt the warmth from it through the fabric of her suit.
“I can, but why don’t you ask the porter to take it up?” Rory nodded at the young man hovering by the door.
“Um, okay, thanks.” Gemma handed over her suitcase, and Rory arranged for the porter to take it up to her room. Rory again offered an arm to Gemma and led her through to the hotel’s cocktail bar. The fathers ordered at the bar, and their mothers sat on a sofa.
It wasn’t too long after they’d settled with their drinks that the fathers, as predicted, sloped off to find the snooker room and the mothers were gossiping about something that had happened at their tennis club.
Since Mary and Phyllis had both gone to bed as soon as they had returned to the hotel, Rory and Gemma were left on their own. All the bravado that had been coursing through Rory’s veins earlier seemed to have abandoned her as she sat awkwardly on the sofa with Gemma next to her.
The silence stretched out between them, and Rory racked her brain for something to say.
Her mind catalogued the noises around them, the sound of the cocktail shaker the bartender was using behind the bar, the tinkling of a piano playing gently in the corner, and the muted conversations of everyone around them.
She looked at the other couples sitting around and winced.
No one looked like her, no one reflected who she wanted to be, and it was stifling.
She clenched her fist quickly. Gemma’s hand on her knee brought her back to the present.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Gemma inclined her head towards their mothers. “They look settled for a bit, and I doubt the fathers will be back anytime soon. Perhaps you could show me around the hotel? You know, we could explore like we always used to.”
Rory smiled at the memory. As kids, they had often roamed around the hotels that the families were staying in and would explore and go on adventures.
At one hotel in Austria, they had formed a group with the other kids staying in the hotel and had spent almost every hour of their holiday swimming and playing together.
As they walked away from their mothers, Rory cleared her throat.
“Do you remember the hotel in Kitzbühel? I was just thinking of the holiday we had there.”
“Oh my God, yes!” Gemma smiled, and the joy was evident in her voice. “It was so much fun — oh God! I remember we all went into the sauna and there were a load of Germans stark naked, and we ran out giggling.”
Rory snorted. “Yes, if I hadn’t already realised I was gay by then, that would have done it!”
They walked along the main corridor of the hotel and looked through the glass doors of the restaurant that was being set up for breakfast.
“Would you like another drink?” Rory smoothed her suit jacket down and tried to think about how a gentleman would behave in this situation.
“I think I’m okay, but if you want one, go for it.” Gemma’s smile was warm. “Do you want another drink?”
“I don’t know, the sensible part of me says I don’t need one, but the part of me that wants to kiss you says brandy.” Rory flashed a smile at Gemma and was rewarded with a blush that spread down over her exposed décolletage.
“Are you saying you need Dutch courage to kiss me?”
“Pretty sure brandy is from France.” Rory smirked and then swallowed nervously as Gemma stalked towards her.
“Don’t be smart, you know it doesn’t work on me.” Gemma stopped in front of Rory and splayed a hand across her chest. She tipped her head up. “You look gorgeous tonight.” Her words were breathy, and her eyes sparkled with desire.
Every moment of the last ten years flashed before Rory’s eyes.
All the lonely evenings spent nursing a drink and thinking of Gemma and the night they had spent together.
The train journeys home from the city where, unbidden, thoughts of Gemma’s lithe and willing body writhing in her arms would torture her.
The other women that she’d kissed and found wanting.
After Gemma, no one had inflamed her senses or got her as turned on as she was now.
What if it was a fluke back then? What if the night of Michelle’s party was a one-off, a perfect moment in time that they were doomed never to repeat?
She searched Gemma’s face. Yes, it was older now, but she was still the stunningly beautiful woman that had haunted Rory’s dreams for the last ten years.
She took a breath and breathed in Gemma’s scent.
Gemma was almost fully pressed to Rory’s front, her hands on Rory’s chest, almost as a barrier from their breasts touching.
Rory reached around her and rested her hands in the small of Gemma’s back, the temptation to cup that perfect ass tingling in her fingertips.
“I’ve missed you.” She murmured, her lips betraying her innermost thoughts.
“I’ve never forgotten how good you felt in my arms, and I’ve missed you.
” She dropped a kiss on the side of Gemma’s mouth.
This was really happening, she thought, those lips that she had been fantasising about kissing all evening, they were finally within reach.
“I’ve missed you too,” Gemma confessed on a breath. She mirrored Rory’s actions and pressed a kiss to the side of Rory’s mouth.
Rory felt her insides light up as if a hundred fireworks had been lit at once.
She knew they were going to kiss. Every minute they had been apart melted away, and for a moment she lost herself in the depths of Gemma’s eyes.
She brought a hand up to Gemma’s face and delicately rested her fingers on her chin as if she were the most exquisite china.
Gently, she tipped Gemma’s head up and brought their lips closer.
For a moment, she could feel their breath mingling, then finally, their lips were together, and everything in the universe coalesced into that one perfect moment.
Gemma’s lips were warm and soft and felt like home.
Their bodies remained still as their lips moved against each other.
Rory’s entire body was on fire, and she felt a yearning deep in her core that shot all the way to her clit.
She pulled Gemma tightly to her chest but let her lips convey all her feelings for now – there would be time for her to explore Gemma’s body after, but for now, she just wanted to reconnect and let Gemma know just how stupid she had been to turn her away.
Rory parted her lips and allowed her tongue to dart out and tease Gemma’s mouth open.
Gemma let Rory in, and a groan rose from between them, although Rory didn’t know who had made the sound and didn’t care.
She felt Gemma’s tongue battle with her own for a moment before they danced together, causing ripples of joy to flutter over Rory’s skin.
Suddenly, her shirt was too tight and her jacket too restrictive.
A part of her brain was screaming at her that despite how wonderful this felt, it wasn’t right, not now.
Her brain battled with the conflicting emotions until her libido won.
She raised a hand from Gemma’s hip to caress the smooth skin of Gemma’s back that was exposed by her dress.
The same skin that she had teased in the opera house was now hers to fully explore.
Suddenly, the realisation that they were in a public room in the hotel quelled her libido.
Reluctantly, she pulled back from Gemma and tried to get her breathing back under control.
Gemma looked at her with a mixture of confusion and hurt.
“We’re, um, in public.” Rory explained. “And I don’t want the parents coming in and putting two and two together.”
“I guess you’re right.” Gemma looked through her lashes at Rory. “Would you like to come up to my room?”
Rory’s body told her to grab Gemma’s hand and drag her up to her room. Her heart was telling her to follow Gemma anywhere she wanted, but her head was sadly sobering up and winning the argument with its sensible suggestions.
“No.” The hurt was back in Gemma’s eyes, and Rory knew she had to explain something of what was in her mind. “I mean, I’d love to, but I don’t want to fall into bed with you again and have another great night followed by years of not talking.”
She took Gemma’s hand and pulled her down the corridor with her. “Let's go find somewhere quiet to talk, and I’ll try to explain.”