Chapter 9
Stephanie’s sandals slapped softly against the cracked sidewalk. Each step released the faint scent of warm coral dust and the day’s leftover heat. The Mexican place had left her pleasantly full, cilantro and lime still bright on her tongue, mixing with the sticky humidity that clung to her skin.
Several days had passed since that night in Casey’s pool, the one interrupted by Melissa’s sharp voice cutting through the water. The memory still sat low in her stomach, warm and unresolved. She hadn’t gone back over to Casey’s since.
Casey had been working most days, and Stephanie had let the distance grow. She spent her time browsing Duval Street galleries and taking long walks in the salt air until the tension left her shoulders.
She turned the corner onto their narrow street. The bougainvillea spilled purple over the fence ahead, and her stomach gave a small, helpless flip.
Casey stood at her own gate, keys in hand.
Sun-streaked hair hung loose and slightly tangled from the ocean.
The thin tank top clung to the strong curve of her shoulders, the fabric damp in places where it touched skin still carrying the day’s heat.
Stephanie’s gaze caught on the way Casey’s fingers worked the lock, capable, unhurried, before she forced it down to the pavement.
Her pulse had already answered. The air felt suddenly thicker in her lungs.
Casey glanced up. The smile that broke across her face was easy, immediate, and it landed like warm fingers pressed lightly between Stephanie’s shoulder blades.
“Hey.”
Stephanie’s throat clicked. “Hi.” She stopped a few feet away. The space between them already felt alive. “Just home from work?”
“Yeah.” Casey pushed the gate open with her hip, the motion fluid. “Gonna throw together something quick. You want to join me? No pressure.”
The invitation tugged at something loose behind Stephanie’s ribs. Her mouth curved before she could stop it. “Thanks, but I just came from this great little Mexican place. I’m stuffed.”
Casey nodded, but her expression shifted, something sheepish slipping into the corner of her mouth. She rubbed the back of her neck, exposing the delicate skin beneath her ear that Stephanie noticed against her will. “Listen… about the other night. I’m really sorry Melissa showed up like that.”
Stephanie waved a hand, the gesture feeling too big for how hard her heart was knocking. “It’s fine.” The words came out softer than she meant them. She studied the faint crease between Casey’s brows. “Are you okay though? I should have asked you that night.”
Casey opened her mouth, then closed it. Her shoulders rose and fell. The hesitation pulled at Stephanie low in the belly, a warm pressure she tried to blame on the heavy meal. She wanted, for one confused second, to step closer and smooth that crease with her thumb. The impulse made no sense.
“It’s okay,” Stephanie said instead, gentler than she expected. “Go eat. You must be starving.”
Casey’s gaze held hers a moment too long. The air between them thickened with everything neither of them said. Stephanie felt the silence press against her skin like warm water. She was about to turn away when the smaller, quieter smile returned to Casey’s face.
“Actually, I’ve got a bottle of that sauvignon blanc you like already chilling in the fridge. Come over later. Use the pool. We can share it. No exes this time, I promise.”
The offer settled warm against Stephanie’s sternum and spread outward until her fingertips tingled. She should say no. Instead her mouth answered for her.
“Yeah. Sure, I’d like that.”
* * *
Inside her own cottage the cool air wrapped around her like a hush.
She kicked off her sandals, toes flexing against the smooth tile.
The neutral furniture passed in a blur as she climbed the stairs, legs still loose from the long day.
In the bedroom she peeled off her sundress.
The fabric had stuck slightly to the small of her back.
She pulled on the navy one-piece, the material cool and smooth against her skin, hugging her hips and the subtle curve of her waist without complaint.
Good enough. She ran her fingers through her hair, leaving the dark waves loose.
The salt air had given them a soft, beachy texture she did not entirely dislike.
The thought of the pool next door sent a quiet spark through her chest. She told herself it was only a swim. A glass of wine.
She settled on the couch with her book, giving Casey time to cook and eat, but the pages refused to hold her attention.
An hour later she stood on Casey’s porch, the night air thick against her bare shoulders. The thin cover-up whispered against her thighs with every small shift of weight.
She knocked, and the door opened a few seconds later.
Casey filled the frame. Black bikini straps peeked from beneath a faded green tank top that clung to the damp curve of her breasts.
Jean shorts sat low on her hips, exposing a strip of tanned skin that drew Stephanie’s eyes before she yanked them upward.
Casey’s hair hung loose, still carrying the faint scent of chlorine and salt.
“Hey,” Casey said, voice warm. “Come on in.”
Stephanie stepped past her. The mismatched comfort of the cottage wrapped around her again, herbs on the windowsill and the ghost of something savory from dinner.
Her pulse beat too hard at the base of her throat.
Casey moved to the counter, the sway of her hips visible even in peripheral vision, and poured two glasses of wine. The pale liquid glugged softly.
They carried the glasses through the house and out into the courtyard. The strangler fig cast deep shadows across the terracotta tiles. The pool reflected the low lights like scattered stars.
They settled on the loungers, knees angled toward each other. Stephanie took a sip. The wine tasted crisp, cold enough to make her teeth ache pleasantly.
“You asked if I was okay after the other night,” Casey said. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass in small restless circles. “I am. I was just surprised Melissa showed up like that, but it’s just confirmation that I did done the right thing ending it.”
Stephanie’s chest tightened at the thread of vulnerability beneath the words. She wanted to reach across the small space and press her palm to Casey’s wrist, to feel the steady beat there. Instead she asked the question that had been bothering her ever since. “Was she possessive?”
Casey exhaled. “No. But then again, she never really got the chance. We were never in public together.”
The admission landed heavy in Stephanie’s stomach.
She sipped again, buying time while her thoughts spiraled.
Her gaze kept drifting to the black straps against Casey’s shoulders, to the strong line of her collarbones.
The wine cooled her tongue but did nothing for the heat building under her skin.
She pushed further, the words slipping out before she could weigh them.
“And do you always date women who are older than you?”
Casey inhaled slowly. Her chest rose visibly beneath the tank top. “Yes.”
The single word left Stephanie’s lungs empty. Warmth flooded her face. She searched Casey’s expression, noting the steady blue of her eyes, the faint salt-roughened strands clinging to her neck. “Why?”
Casey met her stare directly. The eye contact pinned her in place. “Because they’re beautiful. They usually know what they want. They’re mature. I can’t even imagine dating someone my own age. It would be exhausting.”
The words settled in Stephanie’s chest. Her throat went dry. Beautiful. Mature. The compliments landed far too close to her own forty-six years, stirring a confusing blend of flattery and disbelief that made her stomach clench.
She opened her mouth. Nothing came.
Casey’s expression softened. A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth as she read the stunned silence written across Stephanie’s face. “I feel like I’m shocking you with my honesty.”
“Well, yes,” Stephanie managed. Her voice sounded tight even to her own ears.
Casey laughed softly, the sound rolling out warm and unselfconscious.
It loosened something in Stephanie’s chest even as it made her stomach flutter harder.
“Look, I don’t mind if you’re judging me for my taste in women.
I’d rather that than pretend. I’m brutally honest and sometimes it gets me in trouble, but I hate bullshit. ”
“I’m not judging your taste in women,” she said, quicker than she meant to. Heat rose in her face. “And I like how honest you are. I’d actually flip that and say I don’t mind if you’re judging me for my extremely boring love life.”
Casey’s laugh lines softened around her eyes. Her strong shoulders eased back against the lounger. The small movement sent another ripple through Stephanie.
Casey tilted her head, understanding plain in the gentle curve of her mouth.
“You’ve been through a tough time. I wouldn’t judge you for any of it.
Hell, I’ve found myself envious of my friends who’ve settled down.
I know how much I want that now. Something real.
So, boring isn’t anything to be ashamed of. ”
The words sank into Stephanie’s chest, stirring a quiet ache that mixed with the persistent warmth low in her stomach.
She pictured Casey wanting something steady, something public, and the image made her throat tighten with unexpected tenderness.
This woman who moved through the world with such complete ease still carried her own quiet longings.
Stephanie wanted to reach across and cover Casey’s hand with her own.
“The right woman is out there for you,” she said, meaning it completely. Her voice came out softer than she planned. “Someone who sees how special you are.”
Casey’s gaze dropped to her glass for a moment, then lifted again, carrying a new question that made Stephanie’s pulse spike. “What about you? Are you going to start dating again?”
The question hit like an unexpected wave.
Stephanie’s breath caught. Her chest rose unevenly.
Dating. The word felt foreign on this warm Key West night, tangled up with the confusing pull she felt toward the woman sitting across from her.
Her mind spun through memories of Gary, the quiet compatibility that had slowly emptied her.
She couldn’t picture starting over again.
The certainty surprised her, a quiet shift she was not ready to examine too closely.
She met Casey’s eyes. The blue of them reflected the pool lights. Her fingers trembled slightly against the cool glass.
“I don’t even know where to begin,” she said. The words tumbled out before she could weigh them. Her voice sounded thinner than she liked. “I can’t picture it. Any of it.”
Casey watched her with that steady gaze. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”