Chapter 25 Jenga Queen
Jenga Queen
Heidi returned to the couch. “We should eat pie. All delicious looking. Cover it with whipped cream.” She stared at the flickering fire. “And us all cozy in front of the fire, under a throw, if we want to get the whole winter experience.”
An image of the two of them cuddled like a pair of sleeping puppies under the throw flashed through Morgan’s mind.
Heidi’s softness against her more angular body.
Complementary. Hard and soft. Angles and curves.
Secrets and sunshine. She swallowed hard.
There were reasons her attraction to Heidi was not a good thing.
Yet, Heidi had been there for her when Morgan had confided about Linda. How hard would it be to tell her the truth about her work?
She slammed that door shut. Too hard. That wasn’t what the Favolas did. The veneer of perfection remained in place, despite the turmoil that churned beneath.
Heidi’s question still hung in the air. Yes to the pie. With whipped cream. But no to the throw and snuggling. She pushed herself off the couch. “Let’s do pie.”
“Let’s.” Heidi, too, got up, and together they went to the kitchen.
Morgan took the pumpkin pie from the fridge, found a knife and two plates.
Heidi watched with rapt attention as Morgan sliced two medium pieces and heaped whipped cream on both. She handed one plate and a fork to Heidi.
“I’ve never had pumpkin pie,” she said. “Before I came here, I thought the pumpkin would be sliced, like apple slices in pie, not pureed. She took a mouthful, hesitated. “It’s kinda weird. It doesn’t taste of pumpkin, that’s for sure.”
“This from the person who considers Vegemite an actual food group? I’m not sure your vote is valid.”
Heidi ate another bite. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.
And weird doesn’t mean something is no good.
People think I’m weird. And if you want something natural-weird, look at kangaroos.
Cute and furry, birth live young that are an inch long, carry their young around in a pouch like a shopping bag until they can be persuaded to leave home.
Kick like a mule. Hop like they’re on springs.
No, weird is good in my books.” She ate another mouthful. “I like that it’s not too sweet.”
“That’s me,” Morgan said. “I always get ones that are lower in sugar.”
“Well, I like it. So, bad luck, Favola. You don’t get to eat my half.”
They took their pie back to the couch.
Morgan looked at the wine glasses, the bottle, and Heidi’s discarded layers that were scattered around. Her fingers twitched to clean up, but with a sigh, she relaxed into the couch. There was a time for housework, and this wasn’t it.
Darkness was falling, but still the snowflakes whirled through the glow from the streetlights outside.
She should close the drapes, but it was mesmerizing to watch them.
A ritual she’d done since she’d been a kid.
She’d pressed her nose to the glass and tried to count them.
Then her mom would scold her for leaving a nose print on the window.
Morgan looked again at the discarded glasses.
Her mom would have kittens at the mess. And, to be fair, even a couple of weeks ago, so would she.
Heidi finished her pie and put the plate on the floor. “Thank you. That was an amazing meal. My best Thanksgiving dinner ever!”
“One out of one isn’t bad.”
“Seriously, I don’t think we can top that. Even though I burned the brussels sprouts.”
“I still think you did that deliberately.” A beat. “And I’m not sorry. They’re not my favorite vegetable, but I couldn’t get beans.”
“Are they anyone’s favorite? But it wasn’t deliberate. Fiona gave me the recipe to pan-fry and glaze them. I just left them on the heat too long. I hope the pan cleans up okay. I’ll replace it if it doesn’t.”
Morgan nodded. That was fair. She ate a piece of her untouched pie. How could Heidi have finished hers already?
Then Heidi groaned and stretched, and the zipper on her jeans parted another inch. “I need pants with an elastic waistband.”
“Don’t worry on my account. I quite like looking at—” Where had that come from?
Heat crawled up Morgan’s neck. Yes, she was enjoying looking at the curve of Heidi’s belly.
And now, with that extra inch of undone zipper, a strip of magenta panties showed in the vee of the jeans.
Just ordinary panties, nothing fancy. A glimpse of a wide elastic band with the manufacturer’s name printed in silver.
Chain store panties, made for comfort, not for seduction.
But still.
Heidi froze. “You’re looking at my underwear? That’s okay. We’re all friends here, aren’t we.”
She rested a hand on Morgan’s leg, just above the knee, and squeezed, then released, leaving her hand on Morgan’s thigh.
It was like a heat pad resting on her leg.
She was instantly aware of the weight of Heidi’s palm, how it curved around her inner thigh, the imprint of each finger.
But this didn’t mean anything. It was just a casual thing, wasn’t it?
Heidi called them friends, and Morgan supposed that they were.
And in Heidi’s world, it seemed friends were physical.
It didn’t mean Heidi wanted to kiss her again, wanted to take up where they’d left off in Oscar’s Tavern, half tipsy from happy hour wine, common sense blurred like melting snowflakes down a window.
No. It certainly wasn’t that.
She looked away, over to the fire crackling in the grate. Anywhere except at Heidi’s hand on her leg.
“So, a walk is off the cards. What else do you do on Thanksgiving?”
“Play board games.”
“So do our family at Christmas. Oh! I know. Don’t go away.”
Heidi lifted her hand from Morgan’s leg and scurried over to the bookcase where Morgan kept her small collection of board games. A minute later, she was back.
“Jenga? After a bottle of wine? Really?”
“That’s the fun of it. Trying to remove a block when you’re laughing, the tower is wobbling, and you’ve had way too much wine to make it work. But, then again, some of our family’s greatest Jenga towers have been after Christmas dinner, port, and chocolate teddy-bear biscuits.”
Morgan wasn’t going to ask what the latter was. The Jenga game still sounded like a disaster waiting to happen, but, if it made Heidi happy... “We can give it a go. Better be on the table, though.”
Heidi took the game across and tipped out the blocks, then built the tower. “You go first.”
Morgan inclined her head and removed an end block from the middle of the tower before placing it on top.
Heidi rested the heel of her hand on the table and eased a center block from the very base of the tower.
With a grin and a steady push, Morgan removed the middle block from the level above the bottom.
The game flowed easily for several more turns until the more obvious blocks had gone. Heidi took her time on the next move, tapping a couple of blocks to see if they’d move before pushing out an edge block from the middle.
Morgan kept her eye on a block on the other edge. If she managed that one, it would destabilize the tower, making it harder for Heidi to win. “Double or nothing on the result of the snow-shoveling race?”
“You’d better explain.” Heidi folded her arms. “I can’t clean up after two Thanksgiving dinners. What happens if I lose?”
“You think you will?” Morgan tutted. “Where’s your self-confidence?”
“It’s high. I’m a Jenga queen. Name the stakes.”
“If you lose, you cook breakfast tomorrow for both of us. If you win, we’ll both do the meal cleanup tonight.”
“Fair enough.”
Morgan suppressed a smirk. She was pretty sure she had this.
She sucked on her lower lip as she worked out the block on the opposing side from Heidi’s last one.
It took a while, there was a wobble, but the tower steadied and held.
The block came free, and she held it up triumphantly before placing it on top. The tower now had a definite lean.
“Ooh, sneaky.” Heidi got up from her chair and circled the table. Then she sat again and splayed her fingers, pushing one of the lower blocks out an infinitesimal distance at a time. Her concentration never wavered.
Morgan sat back in the chair, her gaze fixed on Heidi. The green streak shone next to her normal chestnut-brown, falling over her forehead, but her eyes were steady, almost unblinking, as she worked the block.
The tower wobbled, and Morgan held her breath. There was no way Heidi would get this out. Any second, the tower would crash down, and—
“Got it!” Heidi held up a block, triumphant.
“How did you do that?”
“Take a close look.”
Morgan got low and eyed the tower. Heidi had also managed to nudge one of the outside blocks to the center, and it was enough to stabilize that level—for now. “You haven’t left me with much.”
“Isn’t that the idea? Besides, I have great motivation. It’s a big cleanup for one person in that kitchen.”
“It still might be.” Morgan picked her block and gave it a gentle push with a finger.
It slid forward a tiny amount. The tower wobbled.
She froze, waiting for it to stabilize, then tried another push.
In slow motion, the tower tilted. Morgan held her breath, waiting for it to recover, but it fell and wooden blocks rained down on the table, some skidding onto the floor.
Heidi threw her arms in the air. “Yay! I win!” She jumped up and ran around the table, high-fiving an imaginary audience. “Now you have to help with cleanup.”
Morgan’s lips twitched. To be honest, that was only fair. They had both cooked; they both should clean.
Heidi stopped in front of her and held her hand up for a high five.
Morgan stood, slapped palms. “Well played.” Her hand tingled from Heidi’s enthusiastic slap.
Heidi stood in front of her, and her face fell into serious lines. No smile, no sparkling eyes, just Heidi studying Morgan as if she were meeting her for the first time.
“Is everything okay?” Morgan asked.
A tiny smile flickered. “Yes. Very okay. I was just thinking how much I enjoyed today. Your company. The food. Being home.”
“Don’t forget the wine.”
“The wine.” Heidi waved an arm around the living area. “Thank you for taking a chance on me moving in. I know I wasn’t—am not—your ideal roommate. But I like living here. With you. I’m trying to be tidier. I hope I’m getting better.”
Morgan suppressed a smile. One of Heidi’s sweaters was draped over the back of the couch, one of her Nikes was in the tray for shoes, the other was a foot away on the floor, and her napkin lay discarded on the chair.
And Morgan was seriously thinking about requesting FEMA’s assistance for the kitchen, but somehow, all of that was okay.
Mostly okay, anyway. “I’m getting used to you.
How you live. And, this is your home as well as mine. We both have to compromise.”
“Thank you.” Heidi took a step and slid her arms around Morgan’s waist, bringing them close together.
Morgan’s pulse took a wild leap, and her breath caught.
Was this going to be another kiss? Did she want it to be?
But Heidi drew her into a hug, and for a long moment, they stayed in the tight embrace.
Morgan sighed, and her body softened, relaxed into the moment.
Heidi made her feel safe. As if her mental torments—Linda, her job, finances—drained away, as if Heidi had that power.
Then Heidi drew back. She stared Morgan in the eyes, and then slowly, and oh-so deliberately, her face came closer. She was giving her an easy way to refuse. But that would not happen.
Morgan met her halfway, her lips seeking Heidi’s, her hands grasping the loose shirt at Heidi’s waist. Their lips sought each other’s and landed.
This was no accidental kiss. Morgan could have smiled, stepped out of their embrace, and said something about cleaning the kitchen.
Instead, she was here, her breasts pressed to Heidi’s, their arms tight around each other, and Morgan didn’t want it to end.
The kiss deepened, lips parting, tongues seeking. When Heidi ran her tongue along Morgan’s lower lip, tiny jolts of pleasure lanced deep into her body.
With a groan, she deepened the kiss, until the only thing in her mind was the white noise of pleasure and how Heidi felt in her arms.
Heidi eased back, then kissed a pathway along Morgan’s jaw before breaking away. She stared at Morgan, and there was a slumbering pleasure in her gaze, like a big cat. Heavy lidded, a quiet satisfaction.
“You say thank you very nicely,” Morgan said.
“Wow,” Heidi said. “Who would have thought Jenga would be such intense foreplay?”
Morgan huffed a laugh, and the moment lightened. Her fingers gripped Heidi’s waist. “You should be the one thanking me for losing.”
This was the moment when they could move forward or draw back. Kiss more or clean the kitchen. She twitched, her feet tensing, preparing to take that one small step. Her nerves buzzed, and already she could taste Heidi’s kiss and Heidi’s skin, feel Heidi’s lovemaking.
No. Not like this. Not when there was so much turmoil in her life. And not while she was still being less than truthful with Heidi.
The tiny step forward became a larger step back. “We should start cleaning up.”
Heidi’s lips twitched. “That’s okay, Morgan.
We don’t have to talk about me kissing you.
You kissing me. Or what happens next, if you don’t want to.
We can clean greasy pans and run the dishwasher.
” She came closer and pressed a quick kiss to Morgan’s cheek.
“Seriously, that’s okay. We both have a lot in our lives right now. ”
She couldn’t answer. Didn’t know what to say. Instead, she picked up the discarded plates and started rinsing them under the tap.
Heidi came closer. She took each rinsed plate and started stacking the dishwasher.
Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan saw she was doing it the way she did, with the larger plates at the back, not the Heidi-haphazard way.
Their fingers brushed as Heidi took a dinner plate, and the accidental touch sent sparks up Morgan’s fingers.
As long as they could manage their attraction, this would work.