Leslie couldn’t see Dev’s face in the dark, but she thought she heard amusement

in her tone. Tightly, she said, “Top.”

“Works for me.” Dev curved one arm behind Leslie’s neck and shoulders,

settled onto her back, and pulled Leslie down into the curve of her body.

Leslie’s head nestled on her shoulder, with Leslie’s torso

• 155 •

RADCLY fFE

and one leg partially on top of her body. Dev took a minute to adjust to the

unfamiliar and yet completely natural feel of Leslie lying in her arms. Then she

whispered, “Okay?”

“Perfect,” Leslie said sarcastically. She was fairly certain that Dev didn’t realize

just how much she meant exactly what she said.

• 156 •

WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Are you sleeping?” Leslie whispered.

“No.” Dev shifted carefully and resettled Leslie’s head against her shoulder. She

didn’t feel tired, and even if she were, she doubted she would sleep. Being

cocooned with Leslie had ramped her every sense to high alert. The smell of

Leslie’s hair, the tickle of Leslie’s breath against her neck, the soft weight of

Leslie’s breasts molded to her side—Dev felt as if she were underwater again,

only this time she was immersed in Leslie, and drowning was a welcome

pleasure. Her body was vibrating, and she wondered why Leslie couldn’t feel it.

“Cold?” Leslie unconsciously pressed closer, wrapping an arm around Dev’s

middle.

“No. You?”

“Uh-uh. Toasty.” Leslie lay angled onto Dev’s left side, her cheek against Dev’s

chest, above her heart. Dev’s heartbeat, slow and steady, was a soothing

counterpoint to the ß urry of rain on the tent. Leslie had never been this intimate

with a friend, and rarely with a lover. She and Rachel barely had time to have

sex. They weren’t into lounging in bed.

Dev’s body was solid, heavier than Rachel’s; her hand where it rested lightly on

Leslie’s back was larger, her legs thicker with muscle. Leslie ß ushed with a

body memory of Dev kissing her on the bench by the lake, the weight of her

pinning her down, Dev’s mouth on her bare stomach, moving lower. Oh, God,

don’t go there. Not with her so close.

Leslie focused on something safer—the storm. “It’s still coming down out

there.”

“We’re probably in for another twelve hou—”

• 157 •

RADCLY fFE

Somewhere close, very close, a crack like a riß e shot was followed by a thud

that shook the ground beneath them. Leslie ß inched and, unconsciously trying

to shield Dev, ß ung her arm over Dev’s face at the same time as Dev pulled

Leslie’s head into the protective curve of her neck. After long tense seconds,

Leslie started to breathe again.

“I guess if you hear it, it didn’t fall on you,” Leslie murmured.

Her heart was pounding, but she sensed none of the rapid irregularity that

usually preceded one of her light-headed episodes. She was just plain damn

scared. “I should’ve gotten to you sooner. We’re like sitting ducks out here.”

Dev laughed. “The ducks are doing a lot better than we are right now. Besides,

when we talked this morning everything was calm and clear.” She rested her

cheek against the top of Leslie’s head. “You came as soon as you could, and

you shouldn’t have come at all.”

Leslie poked Dev in the stomach. “Don’t start that again. I didn’t do anything

you wouldn’t have done.”

“Actually, you did,” Dev said. “I couldn’t have gotten that boat this far. I’m not

that good.”

Pleased, Leslie traced her Þ ngertips along the open collar of Dev’s shirt, just

skimming the warm skin beneath. “I practically grew up around boats. I’ve been

piloting one since I was tall enough to see over the steering wheel. When I was

younger, I loved the speed.”

“Yeah, I seem to recall that while you were tearing up the water, I was tearing

up the road on my bike.”

Leslie heard a wistful note in her voice. “Do you ride anymore?”

“No, the road shock really plays hell with my hip.”

“I didn’t realize it was a problem now,” Leslie said quietly. She knew Dev had

been badly injured, but she didn’t know the precise extent. How could she?

She’d never tried to Þ nd out back then, and hadn’t asked recently. Still

blocking it out, still running. God, what a coward. “You don’t limp. I never

realized it still bothered you.”

“It doesn’t, most of the time. Sometimes when I’m cold or stiff, my leg aches

but—”

“God, this must be killing you! Lying on the ground with me on top of you?”

Immediately guilty, angry with herself for not thinking of Dev—again—Leslie

tried to lift herself off Dev. “Why didn’t you say something? Damn it, Dev—”

Dev tightened her grip on Leslie’s shoulder, and since there was very little room

to maneuver in the bag, it wasn’t difÞ cult to keep Leslie

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WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

in place. “It’s plenty warm in here and my leg feels Þ ne. Stop fussing before

one of us gets an elbow in the eye.”

Still grumbling, Leslie settled back down, but their positions had altered just

enough that her leg came to rest between Dev’s. She heard Dev gasp and knew

that her own breath had caught audibly.

“Sorry,” Leslie said, trying unsuccessfully to disentangle her leg.

She needed to get away from Dev, immediately. The place where her thigh

rested high up between Dev’s legs was hot, and she imagined the warmth of

Dev’s sex cupped in her palm. The ridge of Dev’s hipbone snugged into her

mons, and she barely resisted the urge to rub against her. She was full and

throbbing and Dev’s Þ rm body felt so good. So terribly good. When she

clenched inside, instantly wet, she pushed at Dev’s chest. “I need to get out.

Can you reach the zipper?”

“What’s wrong? Where are you going?” Dev asked thickly.

Somehow her hands had ended up nestled in the curve of Leslie’s lower back.

Another inch and Leslie would be completely on top of her, and Dev would be

lost. Most of her wanted to be lost, because somehow she knew it would feel

like being found. But the little part of her that was still able to stand apart and

look down at them in the sleeping bag, with the world a screaming, swirling

chaos outside, told her it was not the time. She groaned softly. “When will it

ever be the time?”

“What?” Leslie whispered when Dev murmured something into her hair that she

couldn’t make out. When Dev merely shook her head, Leslie stroked her

cheek. Dev’s cheek was damp, and she was shaking.

Leslie wasn’t sure why, but Dev was hurting, and knowing that was breaking

her heart. Could the truth be so terrible? “I want to make love with you.”

“I want to too,” Dev said, lying absolutely still, her hands barely making contact.

She was afraid of losing it again, like she had the Þ rst time and then again last

week. But the wanting was a huge void begging to be Þ lled, a pain more

profound than any broken bone or mangled muscle had ever been. “I’ve wanted

you for so long.”

The tent Þ lled with silence louder than the storm.

Truth, Leslie thought. The one thing she still owed Dev, what she would always

owe her, was truth. The words tore at Leslie’s throat. “I want you so much, but

I’m afraid it’s a mistake.”

“I know it is.” Dev ran her Þ ngers through Leslie’s hair, then cupped the back

of her neck. Leslie’s breasts were cleaved to hers, their stomachs moving

together as they breathed, their intertwined

• 159 •

RADCLY fFE

legs trembling. Leslie lifted her head as if to speak and Dev kissed her tenderly,

just the barest touch of lips. An ache of wonder Þ lled her chest and her words

came out on a sob. “I know it’s a mistake, Les, but I don’t feel it. When I touch

you, when I’m anywhere near you, places open up inside of me that are Þ lled

with sunlight. Places that have been dark for so long.”

“Oh God, Dev,” Leslie whispered, wanting to kiss her so badly.

She hungered for Dev’s passion to ß ood over her the way it had every time

they’d kissed, and the force of her wanting terriÞ ed her. “I can’t tell anymore

what’s real and what isn’t. Up until a few weeks ago I knew exactly who I was,

what I was doing, where I was going. Now I…I hardly recognize myself.”

“Do you love her?”

The question pierced Leslie’s heart, because she had never asked it herself. Of

herself. Even though she couldn’t see Dev clearly in the pitch-black tent, Leslie

closed her eyes. She didn’t need to see Dev’s face to hear the pain, and knew

what the asking had cost her. She kept her eyes closed while she searched for

an answer, because she couldn’t bear to see ever again what her words did to

Dev. Truth. God, what was truth? Were there gradations of truth? Was

something true only if she didn’t know any other way to be, any other way to

feel? When had truth become relative for her? When had love?

Did she love Rachel? Two years. She’d been a willing partner in making the

relationship whatever it was or wasn’t. Rachel was not at fault for never giving

Leslie what she hadn’t demanded, and Leslie would not negate her as she had

once negated Dev. She took a deep breath and refused to qualify or excuse—

as much as her heart screamed out for her to. “Yes.”

With trembling Þ ngers, Dev traced Leslie’s face in the dark—her forehead, her

cheeks, her mouth. Then she unzipped the bag. “I’m going to get out. Keep the

bag closed so you don’t lose all the heat.”

“What are you going to do?” Leslie forced herself to release her hold on Dev

and rolled over onto her side as the bag opened and Dev extricated herself.

Dev sat up and rummaged for the lantern and turned it on, then checked her

watch. “It’s midnight. If the rain doesn’t let up enough for us to chance taking

the boat out on the lake in the morning, we’ll have to try starting a Þ re to dry

out some of our gear. The tent’s holding, but the ß oor’s damp.”

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WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE

Leslie caught Dev’s arm. “What are you going to do for the rest of the night,

Dev?”

“I’m going to hunt out whatever dryish wood I can and get it under a tarp.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Leslie threw back the top of the sleeping bag, sat

up next to Dev, and clamped a hand on her arm.

“Besides the rain, it’s not safe out there. In case you’ve forgotten, trees are

falling like matchsticks. If one comes down on you, I’d never Þ nd you.”

“Les, I’ll be okay.”

“No.”

Dev looked away. On Leslie, anger looked a lot like arousal. And Dev was still

very close to boiling, and the pressure of Leslie’s Þ ngers digging into her arm

was as potent as a caress. If they struggled in the small space, she’d lose the last

frayed rein on the desire that was choking her. She’d be all over Leslie, and

there were only so many times she could stop. “Okay. We should both try to

get some sleep, then. I’ll put on some extra clothes and sleep on top of the bag.

I’ll be okay.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” Leslie barked. “We ought to be capable of

sleeping next to one another fully clothed. We’re not teenagers, for God’s

sake.”

Dev laughed harshly. “No, we’re not. That part, I do understand.”

“Then get back into the sleeping bag.” Leslie Þ sted the front of Dev’s shirt and

pulled her down. Her expression softened as she barely resisted caressing Dev’s

stony face. “Get in, zip it back up, and turn on your side with your back to me.”

Since it made as much sense as both of them sitting up for the rest of the night,

freezing, Dev complied. It took some doing, but Þ nally she lay with Leslie

curved along her back and Leslie’s hand resting on her shoulder. As much as