“I will.”

“Good night, Hollis.”

“Good night, Annie.”

Hollis didn’t move, and Annie was careful not to touch her as she closed the door and skirted the front of the car to the driver’s side. She really didn’t trust herself right now—and that was new. New and confusing and thrilling. As she drove away she looked into the rearview mirror.

Hollis was still watching.

*

When Honor walked in, the house was quiet. She smelled dinner but she didn’t hear the kids. She dropped her bag by the sofa on her way through the living room. “Phyllis?”

Quinn was in the kitchen, barefoot in jeans and a faded red T-shirt, putting aluminum foil over casserole dishes that sat on the counter.

“Hi.” Honor slid her arms around Quinn from behind and kissed the side of her neck, snuggling up against her. “I didn’t expect you to be home so early. Where’s Phyllis?”

“She’s next door with Jack.” Quinn turned and leaned back against the counter, pulling Honor into her arms as she moved.

“All night?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Honor threaded her arms around Quinn’s neck and kissed her properly. When she finished, she murmured, “Where’s Arly?”

Quinn grinned. “Sleepover at Angie’s. Spontaneous thing after soccer practice. I said yes.”

“Who’s chaperoning?”

“Missy Frangipani and Donna Brundage.”

“Lord bless them.”

Quinn chuckled. “So that leaves you and me.”

“I notice you just put dinner on hold.” Honor kissed Quinn’s chin. The slow stir of anticipation was familiar, familiar, but ever new.

“It should stay warm for at least an hour.”

“Maybe two.”

Quinn cradled the back of Honor’s head, wrapping a handful of hair around her fingers, tugging gently until Honor’s chin came up. She kissed her throat and worked her way down, opening Honor’s shirt with the other hand. She kissed between her breasts and slipped open her bra. Slowly she moved her mouth over the slope of Honor’s breast and bit lightly at her nipple. Honor’s fingers tightened on her shoulders.

“Quinn,” Honor warned. “Dangerous. Very dangerous.”

“Not so much,” Quinn murmured, and turned Honor until her back was to the counter. Sliding her hand lower, she opened Honor’s narrow leather belt, then the button on her pants, then the zipper.

Honor’s breath came faster, her vision tunneling until the room disappeared and all that remained was the sunlight on the side of Quinn’s face. She ran her fingers through Quinn’s dark hair. “I love you.”

Quinn knelt and looked up, her smile lazy and powerful. “I love you. Hold on.”

Honor gripped the counter and watched Quinn lower her clothes and push them away. She watched Quinn run her hands over her abdomen and down the outsides of her thighs, trailing up her calves and between her legs. She watched Quinn’s mouth skim over her skin, tenderly, possessively, lifting her higher as she kissed ever lower. She watched Quinn take her in, take her home. She watched until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, but she saw Quinn, in her mind, in her heart. She always saw Quinn.

Quinn stood and scooped Honor into her arms, cradling her close and walking back a few steps to a chair at the long kitchen table. She sat and cradled Honor in her lap. “Welcome home, by the way.”

Honor kissed her neck and sighed. “A very nice welcome home too.”

“Think you can make it upstairs?”

“I need thirty seconds until I find my legs again.”

Quinn chuckled. “Take your time. We’ve got all night.”

“I know. A miracle.” She rested her cheek on Quinn’s shoulder. “I invited Hollis Monroe to come over Saturday. Dinner.”

“Okay. I told Robin to come over with Linda and the kids too. That’s not a problem, is it?”

“Don’t see why it should be. We’re all neighbors.”

“Good enough, then.”

“Let me try standing,” Honor said, kissing Quinn’s jaw. “I want you upstairs, naked, so I can have my way with you.”

“If you can’t make it, I’ll carry you,” Quinn said fervently.

Honor laughed and took her hand. “I’m quite sure I can manage.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Hollis worked on the house while the light lasted, sweating in the warm evening air as she nailed up trim, replaced floorboards on the porch, and scraped siding in preparation for repainting. She wasn’t working to fill the time or exhaust herself enough to sleep as she often did. She was sawing and hammering and carrying stacks of lumber to keep her mind off the way her body hummed with the aftereffects of Annie’s kiss. The rhythmic hum of the saw and steady cadence of hammer hitting nails crowded out her thoughts for moments at a time, but always when the physical exertion waned, the fire ignited by that kiss came surging back. Under the surface of her skin the stirrings of desire persisted like the bass line pulsing beneath the melody of a familiar song.

She stepped back, squinted at the 45° angle joining the two pieces of trim she’d just set around a porch column. Looked good. She rubbed her hand over her chest, massaging an ache she couldn’t touch. Even as she struggled for balance, for a little distance, she replayed the exhilaration of the moment she’d pulled Annie into her arms. Annie. She wanted her. No denying it, not when her body was strung tight, clamoring for more of the heady sensation. Going slow would be a challenge. She hadn’t craved like this since she’d first discovered sex, and those unschooled urges were only pale imitations of this consuming hunger.

She understood lust, but this wasn’t that. She wasn’t a hermit, or a monk. She dated a few women who enjoyed sex after a pleasant evening and who didn’t expect anything more beyond that, and that suited everyone just fine. But Annie wasn’t one of those women. Annie wasn’t someone she could touch casually, wasn’t a woman with whom she could share a few hours of physical pleasure and then leave with a quick kiss and an I’ll see you later. No, Annie was far more special than that.

Hollis put her hammer aside and sat on the top step of her back porch. Her yard bordered the street, separated from the sidewalk by a hedgerow and at the end farthest from the neighbor’s yard by a wooden fence. Even though she caught glimpses of cars passing and people walking by through the gaps in the hedge, she was invisible to them, alone in the slowly diminishing twilight. She rubbed the back of her neck. Her skin still tingled from where Annie’s hand had rested. The whole front of her body vibrated from the sensation of Annie pressed against her when they’d kissed—when she’d held Annie close. She hadn’t known she was going to do that, which was pretty damn surprising all by itself. She didn’t do things spontaneously. Not where women were concerned, not anywhere in her life. But Annie had been about to get into her car—about to disappear—and she hadn’t wanted her to go. She’d had more she’d wanted to say. Thank you for bringing me dinner, thank you for remembering what I like to eat, thank you for letting me share your daughter. Thank you for making me feel my heart beat for the first time in so long.

She hadn’t had the words, and the hunger had been riding her hard. She’d wanted the softness of Annie’s mouth against hers again, wanted to taste her again, wanted to hear the soft sound Annie made in her throat that she wasn’t even aware she made when they kissed. That little murmur of pleasure shot through Hollis like an arrow, and she wanted nothing more than to coax Annie into making it again and again. She wanted it now like an ache in her soul. Hollis propped her elbows on her knees, laced her fingers behind her head, and closed her eyes, torturing herself with sweet memories. A hurricane raged inside her as she recalled every second of their too-short kisses, every inch of flesh where their bodies had too briefly touched. What was she going to do about this need she had for Annie?

This need gnawing at her wasn’t going to be fixed by a few kisses or a night or two of hot sweaty sex. She wanted Annie fiercely. She wanted to be over her, she wanted to be inside her, she wanted Annie to open for her, to wrap her arms around her, to pull her deep, deep inside.

Hollis shot to her feet. The sun was gone, twilight had drifted away, and night had fallen. The kitchen light behind her glowed pale gold, casting molten shadows on the porch. She thought she might be looking at another sleepless night, but one far different than those that usually plagued her. She was restless and agitated, but not from some vague discontent. She willed the night to be over so she could wake up and go to Annie. Annie, a woman who had the power to leave her defenseless. Helpless. Vulnerable. She didn’t care—and that scared the hell out of her.

*

“When is Hollis coming?” Callie asked at nine on Saturday.

Annie placed a glass of orange juice in front of Callie. “I don’t know, baby. We have to wait until she calls. She might have to go to the hospital first, remember I told you that?”

“I know, but I’ve been awake for a long time already.”

“You woke up extra early, so it makes it seem like you’ve been awake even longer than usual.”

Callie pushed her glass around on the tabletop, her expression contemplative. “If I sleep longer, I have to wait less?”

“Sometimes.” Annie kissed the top of Callie’s head. Her hair smelled as sweet and delicate as freshly opened rose blossoms. “She’ll be here soon, baby.”

She hoped. She was as anxious as Callie. She’d been keyed up ever since leaving Hollis, and a good part of her agitation had been physical. She recognized it, despite how long it had been since she’d experienced anything even close to unrequited desire. The sensations tormenting her had been that and so much more. Pure physical longing was a new experience—she’d been dependent on Jeff, although at the time she hadn’t recognized her attraction for what it was. He’d been her guide in a strange and unsettling new world, and she’d mistaken need for something deeper. This fire in her blood was altogether different. She couldn’t stop thinking about Hollis’s mouth, her hands, the hard length of her body. Just the woodsy-citrus scent of Hollis’s skin made her twist inside.

She hadn’t gotten much sleep and had awakened at the first trill of birdsong outside her window. She generally rose with the sun, enjoying being up and about as the world awakened, but today the instant she’d opened her eyes expectation rushed through her, so intense she’d gasped out loud. Her thighs had tightened and her nipples had throbbed. The flush of instant arousal was so unexpected, so unusual, she’d clutched the sheet in both hands, afraid the slightest movement might make her explode. She’d gone to sleep imagining Hollis stretched out above her, and she’d awakened wanting her everywhere. She was a wreck.

“Mommy?”

Annie jumped, aware of the spatula in her hand and the pancakes browning on the griddle. She steadied her voice. “Yes, baby?”

“I think Hollis is here.”

“What?” Annie spun toward the screen door leading to their small back porch and postage-stamp yard.

“I guess I’m too early,” Hollis said through the screen. She leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb, one hand in the pocket of black jeans, a white shirt open at the neck, the sleeves rolled up her forearms. She looked sexy and a little dangerous. She looked gorgeous. “I’ll wait—”

“No,” Annie said quickly. Too quickly. How uncool could she be? “You’re not early. Come in.”

Hollis grinned, liking the way Annie flushed, liking her a little off guard and flustered. Guess she wasn’t the only one who was nervous. “I went to the front door first—didn’t see any signs of life. I don’t want to interrupt—”

“We’re having pancakes and bacon.” Annie gestured to the table and the plate of bacon she’d just placed there. “What did you have?”

“Um. Half a slice of cold pizza?”

Laughing, Annie pointed to the table. “Get in here. Sit.”

“Well, if you put it that way.” Hollis hurried inside and stopped a few inches from Annie. “Hi.”

Annie tumbled right into her eyes, went in over her head in an instant, and wasn’t sure she’d ever surface. When she came back to her senses, she brushed her lips over Hollis’s cheek, needing the tiniest taste to ease the urgency filling her chest. “Hi.”

Hollis’s eyes darkened and she stroked lightly down Annie’s side, her fingertips coming to rest just above Annie’s hipbone. “You sure this is okay?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“You look great.”

“Sit, Hollis,” Annie murmured, wishing like hell she’d put on something sexier than a plain old green tee. “Breakfast.”

“Right.” Hollis glanced at Callie, knelt by her chair, and said, “Hi, Callie. You ready to go bicycle shopping with Mommy and me?”