“So you’re Þ lling in at the lodge?” Natalie asked, eyeing Dev curiously. She

pulled into the station lot and parked close to the boat docks.

“A bit.”

“Nice of you.” Natalie climbed out and pointed to a cooler on the backseat of

her car. “Can you grab that?”

“Sure.”

Dev wondered at Natalie’s sudden silence while they checked gear and cast off,

but once they were underway, Natalie seemed herself again—chatting casually

about events at the station and pointing out her favorite spots on the lake.

Twenty minutes later, they dropped anchor in a small cove on the far side of a

smaller island in the Glen Island Group. Other than boats passing by within sight

—but not shouting distance—they were alone.

“This is some boat,” Dev said. Natalie’s twenty-three-foot Þ berglass SeaCraft

had a cuddy cabin, an enclosed area in the front of the boat with sleeping and

lavatory facilities, and a spacious rear deck for Þ shing or recreational activities.

“Do you sleep out on her much?”

“Now and then.” Natalie grinned. “It comes in handy for impromptu getaways.”

“I’ll bet.” Dev spread her arms out along the back of the built-in bench and tilted

her face up to the sky. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually

relaxed.

“You’re going to roast in jeans and a T-shirt out here. I can probably Þ nd a suit

for you in the locker,” Natalie said as she pulled two St. Pauli Girls from the

cooler. “Beer?”

Dev turned her head and smiled lazily. “Sure. Do you have any objection to

underwear?”

Natalie froze with her arm extended, the beer in her hand. “I guess it depends.

Are we talking on or off? And just what kind of underwear?”

“The utilitarian kind, I’m afraid.” Dev stood, unzipped her jeans, and pushed

them down. She wore navy stretch boxers underneath that

• 114 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

reached to mid-thigh. She unlaced her boots, shucked her pants, and stripped

off her T-shirt to reveal a black sports bra.

“I guess you meant on,” Natalie said, swallowing hard. Dev’s body looked

exactly as she’d anticipated from the glimpse she’d had in Dev’s cabin a few

days before. Her shoulders and chest were nicely muscled, her breasts neither

small nor large, her abdomen smooth and strong looking. The scars on her leg

were more prominent in the sunlight. She handed Dev her beer and sat down

next to her, their thighs separated by a few inches of air that seemed to undulate

with heat. “Good thing you’re keeping your assets covered.”

Dev raised a brow.

“Too much water trafÞ c to risk going au naturel.”

“It’s great out here,” Dev said as she took the beer. “Thanks.”

“Believe me, it’s my pleasure.”

Dev grinned. When she noticed Natalie glance at her leg for the second time,

she said, “Motorcycle accident. Youthful misadventure.”

Natalie regarded her seriously. “It must have been a hell of an accident. I’m

sorry if it’s a sensitive topic.”

“That’s okay.” Dev rested the beer bottle on her hip and regarded the scars

pensively. Sunlight Þ ltered through the green glass and created slashes of color

across her thigh. Until the last week, she’d rarely thought about those times.

Now she seemed to be practically immersed in the memories. “I learned several

very important lessons and fortunately lived to appreciate them.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

Natalie caught her breath. “God, that’s tough when you’re that age.”

“I was lucky. I shattered my femur and had a pretty serious concussion, but I

didn’t break my neck or my back. I didn’t lose my leg.” Dev shrugged and

pulled on her beer. “Christ, it could’ve been a mess. I got off easy.”

Somehow, Natalie didn’t think so, but she wasn’t sure how deeply to probe.

She stroked Dev’s forearm, feeling as if her comfort was woefully inadequate.

“You make it sound like you were being punished.”

“Do I? I guess so. I guess I was—being punished in a way. I was drinking.”

• 115 •

RADCLY fFE

“Ah, God. That’s hard.”

“I was a hothead and a bit of a fuck-off,” Dev said, smiling ruefully.

“Fortunately, I wasn’t so thickheaded not to appreciate the fact that I didn’t

wake up in a wheelchair. Or worse.”

“Sometimes I wonder how any of us survived adolescence.”

“You too?” Dev asked.

Natalie shrugged. “I went through a period where I tried really hard to Þ t in,

even though I knew I didn’t. I slept my way through my senior year in high

school and part of my Þ rst year in college with any guy that came along. Then I

got pregnant. And I had an abortion. Then I decided it was time to stop lying to

myself about how I felt about girls.”

“Did that solve your problems?”

“Most of them.” Natalie laughed. “Of course, then I had to deal with getting my

heart broken by the Þ rst few girls I fell for.”

Dev turned her palm up and Natalie slipped hers into it. “I wonder if it would

have been any easier if someone had told us it was okay to be gay? It’s always

hard to be different.”

“Well,” Natalie said, sliding closer to Dev until she was nestled against her side,

“I think if you’d been around in high school I might have risked it.”

“Don’t be so sure. I was so far outside the popular circle, just being seen with

me invited talk.”

Natalie rested her cheek against Dev’s arm and drew her legs up onto the seat.

“No friends?”

“Just Leslie,” Dev said quietly, wondering now what it had cost Leslie to

befriend her.

“Leslie Harris?” Natalie said, stiffening slightly.

Dev looked down into Natalie’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Were you an item?”

“Christ, no,” Dev said, laughing with a tinge of bitterness. “Leslie was so

different than me. Probably a lot like you—pretty, popular, the girl every other

girl wanted to be best friends with, and the one every boy wanted to date.”

“But not you.” Natalie spoke gently, understanding.

“Not me what?”

“You didn’t want to be best friends with her.”

“No,” Dev said roughly. “That’s not what I wanted.”

• 116 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“Is it hard, seeing her now?”

“Not really.” Dev sighed. “Not when I remind myself that we’re adults now.

Different people.”

“I wonder how much any of us really changes,” Natalie mused.

“I’m not the crazy, mixed-up kid I was ten years ago, but I don’t know how

different I really am either.”

“If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would’ve said I’d changed a lot.” Dev

drained her beer. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

Natalie shifted until she straddled Dev’s lap, her hands on Dev’s shoulders and

their foreheads nearly touching. “Oh yeah? You don’t look like such a bad girl

now,” she whispered. “But I bet you could be, under the right circumstances.

Wanna Þ nd out?”

Dev rested her hands lightly on Natalie’s waist. Natalie looked good. She

smelled good. She felt even better. Dev’s body tightened and throbbed. Her

breathing ratcheted up. “If we’d just met, I’d be all over you right now.”

Natalie’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t stop you. I’m not stopping you. God, Dev,

I’m so crazy hot for you.”

“Ditto,” Dev gasped, willing her hips to stay nailed to the seat.

What she wanted to do was pull Natalie down and grind against her.

She wanted to press her face between Natalie’s breasts and lick the sweat from

every inch of her skin. She wanted to fuck her. And that was the problem.

Gently, she guided Natalie off her lap and back to the bench. “Somehow things

sort of slipped past the point where I can have a casual fuck with you, Nat. I’m

sorry.”

“You bastard,” Natalie said, half angry, half laughing. “How am I supposed to

complain when you say something like that?” She groaned and ran her hands

through her hair. “What if I told you I just wanted a nice friendly affair?”

“I’d say I had to think about it.” Dev got up and pulled two more beers from the

cooler. She popped the caps and handed one to Natalie.

“When you weren’t sitting in my lap and I wasn’t turned on so bad I couldn’t

put two sentences together.”

“You really are a pain in the ass, Dev,” Natalie chided, sipping her beer.

“So I’ve been told.”

Natalie patted the bench. “Sit down. I’m not mad, just horny.”

“Sorry.” Dev sat.

• 117 •

RADCLY fFE

With a sigh, Natalie turned on the seat so her back was against Dev’s shoulder

and her legs stretched out in front of her. “Do me a favor, okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m a big girl, and I know what I’m doing. So just think about it.”

“Okay,” Dev said softly. “I can do that.”

v

Dev pulled into the Lakeview parking lot right behind a big, shiny black Jeep

Cherokee. When she saw Leslie get out, she walked over to her.

“Nice ride.”

Leslie grinned. “Wait’ll my father sees it.”

“How is he?”

“So far, things look really promising. They Þ nished just after eleven this morning

and the orthopedic surgeon thought the nerves were just traumatized—not

permanently damaged.”

“That’s terriÞ c.”

“Yes. We’ll know more in a few days.” Leslie locked the truck and started

toward the lodge with Dev. “I called you once he was in recovery, but I got

voicemail. Did you get the message?”

“Sorry, I was out on the lake when you called and didn’t get in until just a few

minutes ago.”

Leslie cocked her head. “You look like you got some sun.

Working?”

Dev shook her head. “No. Natalie came by the lab and we took her boat out

for a couple of hours.”

“Oh,” Leslie said. “That’s nice.” She stopped on the porch. “I can handle things

here tonight, Dev. You’ve done enough already. Thank you.” She turned her

back and opened the door.

Dev caught the edge of the door with her hand and followed her inside. “I

checked in four more guests this morning before I went to the lab. There’s a

pretty full house tonight.”

“My mother has always been able to handle it. I should be able to.”

Leslie pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen and turned,

exasperated, when Dev followed. “Let me see if I can be clearer. Go away.”

• 118 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

“I won’t help. I’ll just watch.” Dev folded her arms and leaned against the wall.

Leslie stared at her, resisting the urge to grind her teeth. Then she stalked to the

refrigerator and pulled down the menu marked for that day. She groaned. She

hated making salad. “Fine.” She wrenched open the refrigerator door and

reached inside. “Here.”

Dev caught the Þ rst head of lettuce effortlessly. The second was a bit more of a

challenge with one hand already full. The third and fourth left bits of green

hanging from the collar of her shirt as she scooped them against her chest. “No,”

she shouted as Leslie drew back to pitch the Þ fth.

Laughing, Leslie stopped in mid-throw. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m

throwing lettuce in my mother’s kitchen like I’m Þ fteen.

What is it about this place?”

“Something in the air,” Dev said, understanding perfectly.

“It must be.” Leslie set the lettuce gently on the table, then went to Dev to

relieve her of the others. “I’m sorry. Let me take those.”

“I’ve got them. You go ahead and deal with the rest of dinner. I’ll take care of

these.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” As Dev checked the cabinets for a colander, she said, “So tell me

about the truck. When the hell did you have time to do that?”

“It’s amazing how quickly things go when you walk onto the lot knowing what

you want. Once you eliminate the barter, the process is surprisingly simple.”

Leslie shrugged. “When you don’t entertain alternatives, it’s easy to close a