“And they didn’t take it well?”

Mari laughed, feeling the tears pool on her lashes. She blinked angrily. “My father is still not speaking to me except through my mother. My mother is waiting for me to outgrow this crazy phase. The worst, though, is Selena. She hasn’t talked to me since I told her.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Well,” Mari said with a long sigh, “like I said, familiar story.” She glanced over at Blake and Margie, who were sharing pizza and talking with their heads bent close. “I know it has to be a lot harder for him in a lot of ways, adding all the physical changes to the emotional ones, but I envy him his mother’s support.” She glanced at Glenn. “And that of his friends.”

“He’s got plenty of people on his side, and he’s a really strong kid.” Glenn reached across the table and squeezed Mari’s hand. “Like you.”

“I don’t feel so strong sometimes.”

“Hey, you must have suspected how your family’d react,” Glenn said. “But you did it just the same, and that took guts.”

“I’d do it again,” Mari said finally, and knowing that helped. “I just wish they could love the person I’ve always been.”

“Maybe they will one day,” Glenn said.

“Maybe. Anyhow, thanks for listening.”

“Anytime,” Glenn said. There was more to the story, but she knew all too well some things couldn’t be uncovered all at once.

Mari pushed away the melancholy. Whatever her family did or didn’t do, she had a life to build. “What about you? Is your family around here?”

Glenn grimaced. “I don’t have much family to speak of. My mom died when I was about thirteen, and my old man is a drunk. I got out of Texas as soon as I could, and we don’t keep in touch.”

“I’m sorry,” Mari said. “I must sound like a whiner. At least my family was always there for me through everything, even when they couldn’t accept who I really was.” She shook her head. “Love the sinner and not the sin, and all that.”

“You’ll be in good company around here, with the sinners and all,” Glenn said with a grin. When Mari laughed, the sadness leaving her eyes, she was so beautiful, Glenn vowed to find a way to make her laugh again.

*

“Shh,” Abby said, half laughing, half groaning. “The windows are open.”

“I’m not the one calling on the deities,” Flann murmured, her mouth against the pounding pulse in Abby’s throat. A trickle of a breeze drifted through the open windows, stirring the sultry air that settled on her naked back like an unwanted quilt. Sweat pooled at the base of her spine, and Abby’s skin was an inferno against hers. Still, she wouldn’t move away, wouldn’t relinquish the heady feel of Abby’s body under hers.

Flann skimmed a hand down Abby’s flank, over her hip and around to the back of her thigh, hitching Abby’s leg a little higher.

Abby gasped when Flann’s taut thigh pressed harder between her legs. “I’d really, really like it if you put your hand where your leg is.”

“Is that right.” Flann nipped at the underside of Abby’s jaw, loving the way Abby tensed beneath her. Whenever they were in bed together, she had this all-consuming urge to make Abby come, to feel her body tighten, winding higher and higher, until she exploded. No matter how many times she vowed to draw things out, to keep Abby on the brink, she had to force herself to go slow, to tease and torture, especially when Abby demanded instant satisfaction. Flann groaned just thinking about how sexy Abby was when she wanted to come. “God, you make me crazy, you’re so hot.”

“Then go crazy,” Abby whispered in Flann’s ear, catching her earlobe between her teeth. “Get as crazy as you want, just make me come. Now, damn it.”

Laughing softly, Flann shifted her hips and slid her hand between them, cupping Abby in her palm. She slid one finger lower, drawing the tip along the petal-soft channel until she circled her clit.

“God, that’s exactly right. You have the best hands.” Abby dug her fingers into Flann’s shoulders.

“All yours, baby.” Flann stroked and circled and teased until Abby’s breath shuddered and broke on a cry, then slid inside her to ride the orgasm from the first crest to another, even deeper orgasm.

Finally Abby grasped Flann’s wrist, stilling her motion. “Stay right there. Don’t move.”

“You sure you want me to stop?”

“Positive. Perfect.”

Flann relaxed, working to catch her breath. Somehow she never remembered to breathe when Abby was about to come. In another minute, Abby drew Flann’s hand away, nudged her over, and leaned up on her elbow.

“I’ll be happy when we have our own fifty acres and I don’t have to worry about who might be listening.” Abby kissed Flann and sighed.

“Who’s worrying?” Flann asked.

Abby laughed. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not advertise our carnal ecstasies.”

“Ecstasies, huh?” Flann grinned. “We might need more than fifty acres, because I think there’s a lot of ecstasies, carnal and otherwise, in our future.”

“You’re right. Starting now.” Abby kissed her way down Flann’s throat, between her breasts, and lower. Flann’s hands came into her hair, playing ever so softly over her scalp. She loved the way Flann caressed her, as if she was everything precious in the world. When she reached the base of Flann’s belly, she stroked up the inside of Flann’s thigh with the tips of her fingers until Flann groaned. Flann liked to tease, but Abby liked to take.

She pressed Flann’s legs apart and made room for herself, slowly kissing her way from Flann’s belly downward. When she took her in, Flann arched, a strangled cry caught in her throat. Abby’s heart lifted and every single thought left her mind except one—pleasing the one woman in the world who held the key to everything in her life.

“Damn it, Abby,” Flann said through gritted teeth. “You’ll make me come right now doing that.”

Abby grasped Flann’s hand as she pushed her and pushed her, until Flann broke with a long, low groan, her body bowstring tight for an endless moment. Flann sagged back, and Abby pressed her cheek to Flann’s thigh, listening to the sound of Flann’s ragged breathing and her own runaway heart. She’d never been so content or so satisfied in her life.

“Have I mentioned I love your mouth?” Flann muttered, her words slurred.

“Now and then.”

“And your hands.”

Laughing, Abby kissed her thigh. “You might’ve a time or two.”

“And everything about you?”

Abby roused herself and curled into the curve of Flann’s body. Flann barely stirred. “I love reducing you to a quivering mass of jelly.”

Flann chuckled. “Consider me quivering.”

Abby tucked her cheek into Flann’s shoulder, drew her leg over the top of Flann’s thighs, and wrapped an arm around her middle. She couldn’t get any closer, and never wanted to be any farther away. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s get married before we move into the new place.”

Abby stilled. “You still mean married as in church, minister, wedding ceremony?”

“Yeah, all of that.”

“When were you thinking of doing this?” Abby willed her sex-addled brain to catch up to the conversation. Her heart started pounding again.

“No reason to wait.”

“Flann, honey…Harper and Presley are getting married this summer.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’m Harper’s best man.”

“So don’t you think we should let the dust settle before we spring this on everyone?”

“Okay, so how about right after them?”

Abby laughed. “Do you know how long it takes to plan a wedding?”

“Are you kidding? With all the brainpower you and Presley and Carrie and my mother and sister have at your disposal?” Flann tugged Abby’s hair. “Come on, you adore me, don’t you?”

“Endlessly.”

“And I am yours forever.” Flann cupped Abby’s cheek, her expression suddenly deep and intoxicatingly intense. “At least say you’ll marry me now—soon—soonest. Please.”

“Of course I will. Yes, a thousand times yes.”

Chapter Eight

“I hate to say this, but if I’m going to get that talk ready for tomorrow, I have to head home.” Mari would have been happy to sit at the rickety table with the empty paper plates and the intriguing dinner companion for another hour if she weren’t so damned tired. She hadn’t had such a good time in forever. Their conversation had turned from the unexpectedly personal to easier topics—work, mostly, along with books they’d read or wanted to and how they’d each ended up running to relax. While they’d talked, the pizza place had cleared out and the night outside the big plate-glass windows had drifted to full dark. Someone had propped the front door open with a chair and the street was quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle and rare echo of conversation floating from open windows.

“Listen,” Glenn said. “Why don’t I take that talk tomorrow. It’s been a long first day, and it will be late by the time you get it together.”

“No,” Mari said, reflexively refusing help, although at this point if she had a million dollars she would happily give it up to not have to go home and spend time preparing a talk. But she needed to pull her weight, for her own self-esteem and especially for the respect of people who depended on her to do her part. More than anything, she needed to feel whole again. “I appreciate it, really, but it’s okay. I can handle it.”

Glenn shook her head, a small smile on her face. “I don’t doubt you can handle pretty much anything, but I don’t think switching off lecture slots really warrants much of a firefight. It just makes good sense. You’ll get some rest and be fresher tomorrow, and you’ll put in a better day’s work.”

“Ha! Appealing to my sense of duty, are you?”

“Could be.”

“You’re pretty good at subtle maneuvering,” Mari complained with a smile.

“Lots of practice. Well, what do you say?”

Mari was tired. She hadn’t worked a full day since before she’d gotten sick. “Switching off talks—when’s the next one?”

“You can take mine next week.” Glenn leaned forward. “It’s no big deal, Mari.”

Mari liked the way Glenn said her name, or maybe she just liked the way her name sounded in Glenn’s lazy drawl, but she flushed with pleasure and hurried to cover her reaction. “All right, I see the logic. I’ll take you up on it. And thanks.”

Glenn stood. “We’re a unit, remember. That means we pull together and we get the job done.”

“It’s been a while,” Mari said as she and Glenn walked out, “since I’ve been part of something that mattered. This matters a lot to me.”

“I can tell.” Glenn paused. “Listen, I was going to head out for a run. If you don’t mind waiting about three minutes, I’ll change into my running clothes and walk you home.”

“Oh, you don’t need to—”

“Hey,” Glenn said, “time to get something straight. I know I don’t need to, but I want to. You don’t owe me anything in return.”

Mari was glad for the darkness, feeling the heat in her face. “It shows?”

“That you don’t want to owe anything? Yeah, and there’s nothing wrong with that at all. But sometimes it’s about the other person.”

“I’d like the company,” Mari said cautiously. Glenn drew her effortlessly into unfamiliar territory, every step new and unexpectedly exciting. Not a single thing had happened between them that was extraordinary, nothing that people didn’t do every single day—have a conversation with a colleague, share pizza after work, even keep each other company on the walk to the bus or subway. On the surface, the time she’d spent with Glenn was unremarkable, except every second with her was like delving farther and farther into uncharted depths, where every breath counted. She ought to be cautious, or at least a little on guard, but she was not. She hadn’t really risked anything, hadn’t revealed too much, though. And she didn’t want to say good night—not just yet.

“Where’s your apartment?” Mari said.

Glenn pointed a finger up and slightly to the right. “Right there.”

Mari laughed, breaking through the still waters of her uncertainty and taking a deep breath of cool, clean air. Glenn’s apartment was next door to the pizza place, above what looked like an antique store, closed and shuttered now. “You weren’t kidding about the pizza place being close to home.”

“So you coming up?”

“Yes,” Mari said before she thought herself into a problem that didn’t exist. She was allowed to make friends, after all.

“Watch your step on the bricks,” Glenn said, leading her down an unevenly paved alley between the two buildings that opened into a small gravel parking lot lit by lights above several of the rear doors of the first-floor businesses. A wooden staircase leading to an upper floor snaked upward along the middle of the building, and Mari climbed up behind Glenn to a wood deck. A small black wrought-iron table and two chairs sat in the corner of the otherwise empty space.