Desire By Starlight

“Jenna?” Alice grasped Jenna’s hand and drew it into her lap, squeezing gently. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“What? Oh, I’m fine. Really.”

“How’s the headache?”

“Gone.”

“Really? You’re sleeping all right?”

“Well enough. Stop worrying.” She’d learned to half-sleep while listening for Darlene’s late night party guests and she was still a restless sleeper. At Gard’s she’d slept soundly despite her injury, feeling safe with Gard across the hall, but last night her dreams—fractured bits of a long-ago life and frustrating fragments of a kiss that almost was—had left her uneasy and tired in the morning.

“And your knee?” Alice tilted her head and peered at the object in question as if she might see through Jenna’s pants. “How bad is it?”

“Seventy-five percent better already. I think getting off it right away made all the difference. Gard was right about that.”

“I take it you’re completely moved out of her house?”

“Let’s have lunch.” Jenna didn’t want to talk about Gard, and Alice’s warning tone was hard to miss. “Then we can draw up a game plan if you really want to stay a while. You really don’t need to, you know.”

“I told you,” Alice said, “I’m looking forward to a mini-vacation. I saw all sorts of bumper stickers on the way here with delightful places to visit. Caves and caverns and other exotic places. Pottery barns. I assume those come without livestock.”

Jenna couldn’t help but laugh. Alice was the epitome of a city girl. An elegant and sophisticated woman who always knew the right wine to choose, the best restaurant, the finest hotel. She had guided Jenna into a world that had been completely foreign to her, and had never once pushed Jenna to be anyone other than who she was. Jenna had taken what she needed from Alice’s repertoire, and kept, she hoped, the core of herself—even if she had hidden it away.

“Lunch first,” Jenna said. “Head straight through town and I’ll take you to Oscar’s.”

“Italian food?” Alice asked hopefully.

“Ah, well, just about any kind of food you might want.”

Once out of town, Alice unleashed the Audi and took the curving roads at breakneck speed. Surrounding fields blurred into ribbons of green, lush streamers cast on the currents of ocean sky. Alice laughed joyfully and Jenna joined her, feeling seventeen again. Freedom was suddenly as simple as the wind on her face. They’d gone five miles over empty roads when a white cruiser pulled out behind them, followed an instant later by the sound of a siren. Jenna looked behind them and saw the revolving red light on top of the sheriff’s car.

“Crap,” Jenna shouted.

“Well hell,” Alice called back, flipping her turn signal and pulling onto the gravel shoulder of the narrow two-lane road. The cruiser pulled in behind them. Alice leaned over the seat for her purse. By the time the officer approached the side of the car, she had her license and car rental papers already out.

“License and registration please.” Rina Gold removed her sunglasses and hooked them onto the flap of her shirt pocket as her gaze slid from Alice to Jenna, one dark brow lifting. “Good afternoon, Ms. Hardy.”

“Sheriff Gold.” Jenna knew her face was flaming.

Alice turned in her seat, putting her back partially to Jenna and tilting her face up to Rina. The sun caught the silver highlights in her hair and she seemed to glow. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I’m afraid I was too busy admiring this gorgeous countryside to pay attention to my speed.”

For half a heartbeat, a smile threatened to break Rina’s tight-lipped grimace. “Yes. I hear that a lot. One moment, please.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Alice rounded on Jenna, her eyes sparkling. “Who is that? She is drop-dead gorgeous.”

“The county sheriff. I met her out at Gard’s.”

“Is she—” Alice waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“I don’t know. It’s not the first thing I usually ask a stranger.” Jenna sounded testy and she knew it. Did everyone think that Rina Gold was gorgeous? Just because she was. Damn her.

“You don’t know, or you don’t think so?”

“I don’t know,” Jenna said, keeping her voice low because the sheriff was on her way back.

Rina handed back Alice’s papers. Then she braced both hands on the edge of the car door. “I’m going to give you a warning this time, Ms. Smith, because I see that you’ve just arrived in Vermont. Those little signs that you see along the side of the road with numbers on them? They denote the speed limit. On this road that’s fifty-five.”

“I’m sorry. I really was having a wonderful time driving through your county, Sheriff. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Jenna could hear Alice’s eyelashes flutter and choked back a groan.

The sheriff studied Alice a long moment and said, “It would be nice if you lived long enough to see more of it. These roads are treacherous. Be careful.”

“I will,” Alice said seriously. “Thank you.”

Rina touched the brim of her hat with one finger, glanced over at Jenna, then turned away. “You ladies have a nice day.”

When the crunch of the sheriff’s boots on the gravel faded, Alice said under her breath, “I want her. Is it too soon to ask for her number?”

“Just try to behave for a few more minutes. She’s going to wait until you drive away. For God’s sake, don’t peel out.”

“What’s going on between you two?” Alice eased the convertible onto the road and kept well below the speed limit until the cruiser sped past in the left hand lane a few minutes later and disappeared over a rise in the road.

“Nothing. I hardly know her.”

“I could feel the tension between you. Oh no. Wait. Don’t tell me. She asked you out?”

Jenna snorted. “Not likely.”

“Then wha—the vet? You’re both chasing her?”

“No. I already told you there’s nothing going on—”

“Oh, please. So is she worried about you and the good doctor?”

“You know, I forgot why I wanted you to come up here. But I think I want you to go home now.”

Alice shook her head, her usual playful smile having gone suddenly grim. “You and I need to have a talk about Gardner Davis.”

Gard squeezed her truck between Rina’s cruiser and a rusted-out Chevy pickup with two mud-splattered ATVs strapped into the open rear bed. Oscar’s was jammed, and once inside she stopped next to the register to scan for Rina. She spotted her perched on a stool at the end of the counter, her hat claiming the adjacent stool, and at the same instant, she saw Jenna. Jenna, looking gorgeous with her hair windblown and her color high, sat in a booth halfway down with another woman whose back was to her. When her gaze met Jenna’s for a second, Jenna quickly looked away. The brief connect followed by the obvious dismissal jarred her. She’d made a big mistake putting her hands on Jenna, but damn it, Jenna had been upset. And she’d needed to comfort her. That need had caught her by surprise, and now she was paying for giving in to it. She could still feel the press of Jenna’s breasts against her chest and the whisper of warm lips against her neck. Fortunately, she had only to remind herself that Jenna would soon be returning to a world she wanted no part of to squelch the temptation to repeat the folly.

Gard headed for Rina but was forced to stop next to Jenna’s booth to let Trish, one of the day waitresses, sidle by her with a full tray of burgers and fries.

“Hi, Gard,” Trish said in passing.

“How’s it going, Trish.”

“It’s going.”

“Afternoon, Jenna,” Gard said. Only an inch of space separated her hip from Jenna’s shoulder but the chill in Jenna’s eyes made it feel like a long, cold mile.

“Hello,” Jenna said, her smile fleeting and forced.

“Sherm called. All the arrangements have been made.”

“Thank you.” Jenna hesitated, then added, “Gard, this is my friend Alice Smith.”

Gard held out her hand to a woman she pegged instantly as another big-city sophisticate. Poised, polished, and perfectly turned out in faux-casual clothes that probably cost more than half the trucks parked out front. “Nice to meet you. Gard Davis.”

“A pleasure,” Alice replied. “Jenna’s been telling me how helpful you’ve been.”

“Not at all. Just being neighborly.”

Gard watched Jenna as she spoke, searching for some sign that what had almost happened hadn’t been all in her imagination. Jenna looked up at her then, and the heat in her eyes was a kick in her gut. Jenna might act like they were strangers, but her eyes said otherwise. Some of the knots in Gard’s insides unraveled a little and she barely resisted the urge to brush a loose strand of hair off Jenna’s cheek.

“More than neighborly,” Jenna murmured. “Busy day?”

“About average. I’ve still got a few calls to make.”

“Well, I know you’re busy. Don’t let us keep you.”

“Enjoy your lunch.” Gard continued on and settled onto the stool next to Rina. “Did you order already?”

“Uh-huh. I hope you’re in the mood for your usual.” Rina cocked her head, giving Gard a quizzical look. “Rough day?”

“Not particularly,” Gard said, trying to shrug off the taste of lingering desire.

“I see you’ve met our newest visitor,” Rina said.

“Who?”

“The lovely blonde with Jenna.”

“I just had the pleasure.”

“They brighten up the place, don’t they?”

Gard tried to decipher what was behind the tension in Rina’s voice. “What happened?”

Rina slid her fork back and forth on the counter. “Nothing, really. I pulled them over for speeding.”

“Wait. Let me guess. The red Audi in the lot out front?”

Rina smiled. “That would be the one. Alice likes speed, it seems.”

“Does she?” Gard wondered what the relationship was between Jenna and Alice. Jenna had said Alice was her agent and good friend. Maybe that meant good friend with benefits. That seemed to be popular among busy professionals these days. Why complicate matters having a relationship when you could just have sex with one of your friends. Maybe she should consider it with Rina. She pegged that idea as bullshit as soon as she thought it. Rina deserved better.

“They’ve been turning quite a few heads in here,” Rina noted.

Before she could stop herself, Gard swiveled on her seat in Jenna’s direction to check out who was nearby. Wanting to know which men—or women—might’ve taken an interest in her. Wanting to warn them off. As if it was any of her business. Which it wasn’t. She turned back. “It’s not like we don’t have plenty of beautiful women in town.”

“Oh, I agree with you.” Rina laughed. “I can think of any number of hot women, but they all seem to be clueless.”

“Present company excepted, of course.” Gard grinned.

Rina laid her hand on Gard’s forearm. “Of course.”

“It seems your friend and the sheriff are a little more than friends,” Alice murmured.

“What are you talking about?”

“The sheriff looks like she wants to take a bite out of the good Dr. Davis’s neck. And she can’t keep her hands off her.”

“You sound envious.” Jenna was glad she couldn’t see Gard and Rina together. Imagining Rina leaning into Gard, touching her… She shook the picture out of her mind before Alice picked up on her irritation.

“I confess,” Alice leaned on her hand, her expression pensive, “I wouldn’t mind being in the vet’s place right now.”

Jenna fell silent as a waitress slid enormous platters of French fries, coleslaw, and triple-decker turkey sandwiches in front of them. Somewhere between now and the time Gard had walked away to join Rina, her appetite had waned. She picked at a French fry halfheartedly. She hadn’t expected to run into Gard again so soon, and she definitely hadn’t expected her heart to do a cartwheel the instant she laid eyes on her. Women didn’t affect her this way. They just didn’t.

“You’re muttering to yourself,” Alice whispered.

“I am not.”

“You don’t know who she is, do you?” Alice said, all levity gone from her voice.

Jenna looked up from her plate, surprised by the solemn note in Alice’s voice. “No, should I?”

Alice lifted her shoulder infinitesimally. “Probably not. You don’t pay attention to society news, and this was quite a while ago. Not that long after you arrived in New York City.”

“I don’t really want to hear gossip about—”

“It’s not gossip, it’s fact. If you don’t believe me, we can have someone in the office pull the newspaper archives. It’s all documented.”

Jenna schooled her expression to reveal nothing, but what was left of her appetite fled and her headache made a reappearance. “We all have pasts.”

“We do. That’s absolutely true,” Alice said. “But most of us haven’t been—”

“I don’t want to hear this,” Jenna said sharply.

“Damn it, Jenna. Your friend over there has a criminal past. Along with all the rest of her family.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Alice’s eyes widened. “Why not? You don’t know anything about her.”

“Yes, I do.” Jenna knew Gard had cared for her when she’d been hurt. She’d tended to Elizabeth even in death. She’d been nothing but sensitive. Jenna knew people and what they tried to hide, and she couldn’t believe Gard was dangerous or evil.

Alice shook her head. “Sweetie, just because she’s kind to animals and too good-looking to live doesn’t mean she can’t also be trouble. Especially for you.”

“We just met,” Jenna protested.

“Tell me you aren’t contemplating a little up close and personal.”

“I’m not.” She wasn’t lying—her runaway libido where Gard was concerned was not voluntary. Splitting hairs, maybe, but she didn’t need to give Alice any further ammunition.

“Listen,” Alice went on as if Jenna hadn’t said a word, “I’m all for you having a break. I know how hard you’ve been working. I heard what the doctor said. And if spending a few weeks in the mountains and having a fling is going to help you feel better, go for it. But not with her. The last thing your career needs is word getting around that you’re consorting with someone like her. Your image is too important and you’ve worked too hard to—”

“You can’t be serious,” Jenna said. “My personal life has nothing to do—”

“You don’t think so? Don’t be naïve. The economy has been in the toilet for two years, and publishers are suffering. Bad publicity will hurt you. The last thing publishers want is to invest money in a risky author. Believe me, at the first sign of negative press Edith Reynolds will dump the deal we have in progress and find someone else to make into a best seller. Is your career worth a couple of nights with a hot body and a gorgeous face?”

“No,” Jenna whispered, unable to lie about something so essential. Her career wasn’t just a job. Her career was her life. She couldn’t risk losing it. If she lost all she’d built as Cassandra Hart, she would lose herself.

Chapter Thirteen

Gard turned down the long lane to Birch Hill, planning to make a quick stop to check that Elizabeth’s—now Jenna’s—stock were doing okay before she went home. She hadn’t gotten by the previous night what with one call after another, and today had been just as bad. An emergency case of postpartum hypocalcemia had taken longer than she’d expected, and she’d just gotten the milk fever treated when two more calls had come in. The afternoon had slipped into evening and finally night while she’d finished up. Now it was close to ten p.m. As she rounded the last bend and emerged from beneath the dark canopy of maples into a night nearly bright as day under a full moon, she saw lights blazing from the Hardy homestead. The red Audi sat in front of the house. Of course Jenna and Alice would be together. Alice had flown up to support Jenna and was probably inside doing that right now. The thought of Jenna leaning on Alice shouldn’t bother her, but it did.

Disgusted with herself for begrudging Jenna the comfort, Gard pulled the truck in behind the Audi, turned off the lights, and cut the engine. What the hell was she doing here? And why should she care who comforted Jenna? She ought to turn around and leave. Get back to her life. She was reaching for the keys when a rap on the window stopped her. Jenna peered in at her through the driver’s window. She rolled it down. “Hi. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not,” Jenna said. “I…I didn’t expect to see you.”

Beam tried to climb over the seat from the extended cargo space behind Gard to get to Jenna. A wet nose raked across her neck.

“Beam,” Gard complained. “Stay in the back.”

The lab settled down with a mournful expression. Gard grabbed the hand towel she kept in the front seat to dry her hands after cleaning them with antibacterial gel, which she did frequently during the day, and swabbed her neck. “I thought I’d be sure the stock were secure for the night.”

“I checked them after dinner and they had food and water.”

Jenna’s face was luminous in the starlight, and when she smiled, something shifted in Gard’s chest. The shields cracked just a little and heat seeped into the cold core of her.

“You don’t need me, then.” Gard reached for the ignition key. She should have known her excuse to stop by was pathetic. She just couldn’t get rid of the tight ache in her chest that had been there since she’d almost kissed Jenna, since she’d had her hands on her. She thought maybe if she saw her, she might be able to break the crazy hold Jenna had on her. That sure wasn’t working—she was more twisted up than ever. Her insides seethed like a nest of hornets. “I’ll get out of here—”

Jenna grasped her arm through the open window. “It’s awfully nice of you to check.”

“I wasn’t sure if the neighbors were still coming by. After all, if any of the animals wander away in the dark and get hurt, I’ll just have to take care of them. Plus the chickens are a temptation to the coyotes. I want to make sure they’re in the coop.”

“Coyotes?” Jenna sucked in a breath. “As in…coyotes?”

Jenna tugged on her arm and Gard half leaned out the window. Hell, she felt like Beam, just wanting to breathe the same air as Jenna. Could she be any more pitiful? “We’ve got a lot of them.”

“Okay. Out of the truck.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going down to the barn, and I’m not going by myself.”

Gard laughed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I didn’t say I was afraid. I’m just…cautious.”

“All right.”

“And I still say it’s very thoughtful of you.” Jenna stepped back and before Gard could climb down, Beam shot out, ran twice around Jenna, then threw herself down in front of her, panting to be petted. Laughing, Jenna scratched behind her ears while Gard got her flashlight from a box behind the seat.

Gard held out her hand. “The track to the barn is pretty rutted. Watch your footing.”

Jenna hesitated for a second, then took Gard’s hand. Their fingers fit easily together. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing here so late?” Gard played the light over the worn dirt path that ran around the side of the house, past the back porch, and down toward the barns. The grass in the front yard needed cutting and her pants legs were quickly soaked with night dew.

“I wanted to get another look at the paintings before contacting an appraiser. Alice suggested I take some photographs to send along by e-mail.” Jenna hugged Gard’s arm to her side, leaning into her as they walked.

“Your leg okay?” Gard asked. Jenna wasn’t limping, but she wouldn’t—even if the knee was killing her. Jenna didn’t court sympathy or help. Thinking of her in pain made Gard’s stomach knot, and she wanted to slide her arm around her. Another excuse to touch her, and if she did, she’d just want more. Hell, she was like a horse in a grain bucket, unable to stop even though it was going to hurt later. She needed a dose of reality. “Where is Alice?”

“She’s on her computer back at the Peeper, taking care of some urgent business. I’m not her only client and she pretty much dropped everything to come up here.” Jenna laughed. “That motel is growing on me, which definitely means it’s time to get out of there.”

“She’s staying with you?” Gard tried to sound casual, but the picture of Jenna and Alice sharing intimate quarters sent the hornets buzzing out of her belly and into her blood. Christ, she needed some sleep or a drink. Something to calm the hell down.

“She cancelled her reservation at the inn.” Jenna laughed. “Said it was too far to drive, but I think she just wanted to share my pain.”

“That was nice of her.”

“Yes, it was.”

An eerie howl rose, followed by another, then another, finally culminating in a chorus of song. The piercing notes rang sharply on the still night air and Jenna pressed closer.

“Is that them?”

“Mmm-hmm. Pretty, isn’t it.” Gard slid her arm around Jenna’s shoulder and the embrace felt…right. “They’re harmless, you know. They won’t approach people.”

“What about the animals? The cows? Fred and Myrtle?”

Gard squeezed her gently. “Coyotes won’t fool with the large stock. The chickens are a different story, but they’ll usually head into their coop at night.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Stay here.” Gard quickly checked the barn and attached shelters. The cows and donkeys were settled for the night. When she shined her light into the row of coops off to one side, she was rewarded for her concern by disgruntled cackles. Rejoining Jenna she said, “Everybody’s tucked in.”

“I really appreciate this,” Jenna said as they turned back up the path. “I’ll have to add finding some part-time help to my to-do list.”

“I know some of the teenagers in the local 4-H. Any of them would be glad to pitch in for a few bucks. I’ll get you their numbers tomorrow.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

Gard grimaced. “Not so you’d notice.”

“Are you just finishing work?”

“Yes.”

“That’s an awfully long day for you.”

“Longer than I expected.”

“Have you had dinner?”

“No.”

“I’ve been getting things organized over here today.” Jenna grasped Gard’s hand. “The refrigerator and freezer are stocked with food. Let me make you something to eat. It’s the least I can do after you came all the way out here.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t, but I want to. Let me repay your kindness.”

“I thought you said you didn’t cook?”

Jenna shrugged. “I’m no match for Oscar’s but I can do simple. Come in. Please.”

Gard knew she should say no. Leave. The more time she spent with Jenna, the more things she found to enjoy. She liked the way Jenna’s hand fit in hers. The softness of her skin, the firm certainty of her grip. She liked the way her stomach tightened as their shoulders brushed with each step. Even when she’d thought she’d been in love, she hadn’t felt the same combination of excitement, contentment, and desire. She ought to back away but heard herself say, “That would be great. Thanks.”

“Good.” Jenna squeezed Gard’s hand, pleased to finally be able to take care of Gard in a small way. She’d hardly believed it when she’d heard the truck pull in and had looked up to see Gard parked in the drive. She’d just been walking through the house, recalling her sadness during the first visit, thinking how comforting Gard had been. She hadn’t expected to grieve for a woman she didn’t know, and she certainly hadn’t expected to be consoled by a stranger. Gard didn’t feel like a stranger now, even though she knew very little about her, really.

“You never did tell me where you’re from,” Jenna said as they climbed the back porch steps.

“Does it matter?” Gard said, and the wariness was back in her voice.

“No.” Jenna had told Alice the past was the past, even though she knew the past never completely disappeared. Hers was like a living presence in the back of her mind, whispering reminders of what she’d escaped and warnings of how tenuous the present might be. She wondered if Gard’s past haunted her as hers did. “Are you happy here?”

Gard reached the screen door and held it open for Jenna to pass into the kitchen. “Yes. I like my job.”

“Grab a chair and relax.” Jenna flicked on a wall switch and the round globe in the kitchen ceiling bathed the room in a pale yellow light. If anyone had asked her if she was happy, she would have instantly said yes. She loved her work, thrived on the demands of her busy schedule and the pleasure and security she got from making her own way in the world. Evidently Gard was the same way. Neither of them was attached, apparently by choice. Gard could surely have any number of women if the admiring glances of the ones in the diner—and Rina Gold—were any indication. Neither of them wanted anything serious, neither wanted complications. What could be better? If she was going to be here for a few weeks, she could do much worse than Gard for company. Once she returned to New York, this would just be another piece of the past that had nothing to do with Cassandra Hart’s life.

Humming lightly, Jenna opened the refrigerator and took out all the vegetables, then removed a package of chicken from the freezer. “Stir-fry okay?”

“Sounds pretty perfect. Want help?”

“No. There’s not much to do.”

“Probably safer.”

Jenna laughed. “I take it you don’t cook?”

“Not much reason to, really. Beam is happy with whatever I give her, and I’m not home enough to spend time fixing a meal.”

When Gard turned her chair around from the table to face her, Jenna paused, a half-peeled carrot in one hand. Gard’s long legs stretched out in front of her and she’d draped one arm over the back of her chair. With her dark hair tousled and her rangy body so utterly untamed, she was about the sexiest woman Jenna had ever seen. A knot formed in her throat and she had to swallow before she could speak without a tremor in her voice.

“I forgot, you’re not big on entertaining, so you probably don’t have any reason to do much cooking.” She went back to peeling the carrot and hoped Gard couldn’t read her thoughts. She was usually much better at this game.

“I’m afraid culinary arts are not in my skill set,” Gard murmured.

“I’m sure you have others.” Jenna gave her a slow smile, aware she was flirting. Enjoying herself. She was usually the one being pursued, and even then the seductions often bordered on transactions. This reversal was unexpectedly exciting, and her slowly building arousal even more acute. Gard’s expression seemed to have sharpened, her gaze darker and heavier by the moment. Hoping for casual, Jenna rinsed the package of chicken neatly labeled and frozen in a clear plastic bag under lukewarm water until it began to defrost. “I’ve been thinking I might stay here while I make arrangements for the estate.”

“Here?” Gard straightened. “By yourself?”

“Yes.” Jenna looked over her shoulder. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t? Isn’t it safe?”

“Oh, it’s perfectly safe,” Gard said quickly. “It’s kind of out in the middle of nowhere. I guess I didn’t picture you wanting to be that far from civilization.”

Jenna laughed. “Do you really think I’m some kind of spoiled city girl?”

“Ah, I didn’t say that.” Gard shrugged. “Rina tells me you’re a celebrity, though. You didn’t mention you were an award-winning author.”

“Why would I? Those awards don’t mean anything to anyone outside the industry. The only thing that really matters is how popular your books are with your readers.” Jenna turned and pointed her wooden spoon at Gard. “And you don’t read romances, remember? So I have no chance at impressing you.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Grad stood quickly and strode toward her, so graceful and powerful Jenna’s pulse tripled. “I would imagine being a New York Times bestselling writer is pretty damn amazing for anyone.”

“I’m always happy about having my work recognized, of course,” Jenna drizzled olive oil in the pan and set the burner on medium, “but it’s not something I chase after.”

“No?” Gard stepped close to Jenna to peer into the skillet, so close Jenna caught a whiff of hay and clover. “What do you chase after?”

A night without dreams. A life without fear. Maybe, for a few weeks, you. “The next great story,” Jenna said lightly.

“I imagine you spend a lot of time in the limelight.”

“I suppose.” Jenna grimaced. “Occupational hazard. I’m selling a product, and I’m only as popular as my last book. If I’m not out there reminding people of who I am and what I write, there are plenty of other authors who will step up to fill the gap.”

“You make yourself sound ordinary, and I know that can’t be true.” Gard rested her hand on Jenna’s back and leaned closer to the stove. “That smells great.”

“You’re very good for my ego.” Jenna scooped a mushroom from the pan and held it out to Gard. “Here. Try.”

Gard cradled Jenna’s wrist and held her gaze while she softly blew on the morsel and then slowly closed her mouth around it. Jenna couldn’t look away from her mouth. Oh God, she had a beautiful mouth. Her insides went liquid. If she didn’t step away, she was going to embarrass herself and chase after that mushroom.

“So you think it’s all right if I just move in?” Jenna scooted out from under Gard’s hand and searched the cabinets for plates. “I feel a little presumptuous even cooking in here.”

“Elizabeth left this place to you—I’d think she’d like knowing you were here.” Gard took the plates from Jenna and set them on the table. “In fact, it will be a lot easier to inventory the house. And it’s got to be better than the motor court.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Oh, you have no idea. At least here I won’t be tempted to carry a gun to shoot the cockroaches.”

“What about Alice?” Gard asked, her voice carefully neutral.

“She’ll stay here too while she’s visiting.” Jenna laughed as she filled the plates. “I give her three days before the quiet gets to her.”

“What about you? How long do you think you might stay?”

Jenna turned from the table. Gard was inches away. “I haven’t decided. I have a really hectic schedule starting in a few months and I need to get a lot of writing done before I take to the road again. This looks like it will be a great place to work.”

“You don’t think you’ll miss all that big-city excitement?”

Jenna couldn’t miss the bitterness in Gard’s tone and wanted to put the smile back on her sinfully sexy mouth. “I think I’ll be able to find something around here to keep me entertained.”

A second passed, and Gard grinned wryly. “At least for a few weeks.”

“At the very least,” Jenna said.

Chapter Fourteen

Gard was pretty certain she was reading the signals right. Jenna was flirting with her. All through dinner, while they talked about Gard’s job and Jenna’s next book and Elizabeth’s paintings, the conversation drifted easily, like so many leaves on a slow-moving stream. Every now and then, she had to force herself to focus, having gotten sidetracked by the way Jenna tilted her head when she was concentrating, the way her lips parted when she was amused, the way she leaned forward intently when she was excited by an idea, her breasts peaking the cotton fabric of her short-sleeved shirt. Jenna’s eyes flashed and glowed with emotion. Her body, her voice, her movements were a beautiful symphony playing along Gard’s nerve endings, exciting her, intriguing her, enticing her. By the time they finished the meal and Gard stood up to help clear the table, she was vibrating with the urge to run, or to touch her. She backed up, out of arm’s reach.

Jenna turned, a question in her eyes. “What?”

Gard shook her head, mesmerized as Jenna carefully set the plate she’d just rinsed down on the counter and dried her hands. Behind Jenna, through the window above the sink, the moon rode on silver clouds, dark lakes swirling indolently across its surface. She’d seen a similar moon a thousand times, seen the trees shimmer and the pastures radiant with starlight, but she’d never been pierced by the beauty until all that splendor framed Jenna’s face. She should thank Jenna for the dinner, turn around, and walk out the door.

Jenna took a step closer, then another.

“Jenna,” Gard warned.

“I’m listening.” Jenna was inches away, her mouth so close their lips would meet if Gard bent her head an inch. Carefully, ever so carefully, Gard rested both hands on Jenna’s bare arms, lightly clasping her soft, warm flesh.

“Why?” Gard asked.

The corner of Jenna’s mouth tilted upward. Her pupils, black lakes rimmed by forest green, expanded and contracted. Jenna rested both hands on Gard’s chest and rubbed her palms back and forth, her fingertips tracing the arch of Gard’s collarbones through her T-shirt. “Beyond the obvious?”

Gard’s breath kicked up and she stood absolutely still, letting Jenna explore her. She shivered and thought of the way the horses shied away, knowing they were prey, fearing their defenselessness but still wanting to be close, wanting to be touched. She wasn’t nearly as brave—she’d stopped inviting touch, stopped desiring connection, knowing the deadly vulnerability that followed. Knowing the soul-crushing pain of betrayal. Against her will, she leaned into Jenna’s caresses, inviting, seeking, needing more as Jenna’s fingers traced the outer contours of her breasts, coming close to but never touching her nipples. She shuddered as her nipples tightened into hard, tingling knots.

“The obvious escapes me right now,” Gard said hoarsely.

“Number one,” Jenna murmured, bowing forward until her pelvis snugged neatly into the curve of Gard’s crotch, “you’re gorgeous.”

Gard clenched her teeth as their thighs and bellies cleaved. From Jenna’s pleased smile, it seemed she hadn’t been very successful in hiding her response. Jenna played her fingertips up and down the center of Gard’s torso, as if painting her with sensation.

“But I don’t just love the way you look. I love the way you feel.”

Gard sucked in a breath, her stomach tensing as Jenna’s light strokes became firmer and their hips started a slow thrust and retreat all on their own. Jenna looked up, her gaze hot on Gard’s. “I love turning you on. Am I turning you on?”

“Mission more than accomplished.”

“Oh good.”

Laughing softly, Gard wrapped her arms around Jenna’s waist and tugged her sharply forward until their gentle melding transformed into a hard fusion.

Jenna pressed the flats of her fingers against Gard’s mouth. “I like to see you laugh.”

Gard teased the tip of her tongue between Jenna’s fingertips. Jenna tasted a little bit sweet, a little bit tangy. Gard wanted more, and the wanting was what worried her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe the whys don’t matter.”

“Maybe only this moment matters,” Jenna said, her breath coming fast, the green of her irises darkening almost to black. “I want you to make love to me.”

Gard cupped Jenna’s hips, her hands closing possessively over firm muscles. Need flared as swiftly as a summer storm. She wanted hot, bare flesh beneath her fingers and the heady musk of desire in her mouth. The wild pulse in her belly made it impossible to think. “Jenna, God…”

“Don’t think,” Jenna whispered, her mouth an inferno on Gard’s neck. “Just feel me, right now.”

Jenna’s teeth closed on her skin and Gard threw her head back, her vision tunneling into darkness. What were they doing? What was she doing? Her hunger, so sharp after being so long denied, was a beast she feared would turn and ravage them both. “I don’t…I can’t.”

“All right,” Jenna said quickly, curling her fingers inside the waistband of Gard’s jeans. Her light grasp might as well have been iron, for all Gard’s ability to deny her. “Something safe then.”

Gard snorted, her skin so hot she feared it would melt from her bones. “I don’t think there is such a thing with you.”

“Just kiss me. Just a kiss.” Jenna traced her fingertips over Gard’s mouth. “Safe enough, for now.”

“I doubt it,” Gard muttered, but the need rode her hard and she took a chance. Gripping Jenna’s hips, she lifted her onto the counter. Jenna’s arms automatically came around her neck, and Gard caged her with her hands pressed flat beside Jenna’s hips, stifling Jenna’s cry of surprise with her mouth. She wanted to devour her. She wanted to plunge into the heat and promise of Jenna’s body. She wanted to lose herself in the sanctity of flesh and blissful oblivion of passion. For an instant she remembered how it had been with Susannah, the blind race to annihilation, the desperate quest for ultimate escape. Making love with Susannah had been a battle, a struggle to find union when they’d never quite been able to connect in any other way. For those few brief seconds when the world exploded with sensation, when thought was obliterated by white fire, she’d believed herself to be satisfied. She’d believed she’d been connected. She’d believed she’d not been alone.

She’d believed a lie. So many, many lies.

Gard pulled her mouth away, panting. “I don’t want to do this. Not with you.”

Jenna laughed shakily, her fingers closing convulsively on Gard’s shirt. “You have a way of insulting me more often than any woman I’ve ever met.”

Gard closed her eyes and rested her forehead against Jenna’s. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

“I’ll cut you some slack this time.” Still in control—but barely—Jenna forced her fingers to relax and stroked Gard’s back. She was horribly aroused, more than she had ever expected to be from an almost-kiss. For a few seconds, she’d felt the power of Gard’s passion on the verge of exploding, and she’d wanted to be caught in the blast. She’d wanted the detonation to carry her over the edge into the maelstrom, tumbling her into a whirlwind of pleasure. They’d barely begun, and Gard had jerked away from her. If she hadn’t registered fear in that single jolt, she might have been angry, or at the very least insulted. Instead, she was anything but. She was captivated. And she was furious at the woman who had wounded Gard so deeply.

“It’s all right.” Jenna stroked Gard’s cheek and skimmed her fingers through her hair. “Really, it’s all right.”

“No, it really isn’t.” Gard straightened, her eyes stormy now, cloud-filled and impenetrable. “You’re a beautiful woman. Anyone in their right mind would be lucky to be standing where I am right now.”

“You don’t really know that, but thank you.” Jenna continued tracing light patterns down Gard’s neck and over her tense shoulders. The muscles beneath her fingertips tightened until she feared something might snap. “But this doesn’t have to be hard. It doesn’t even have to be complicated. And it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

Gard stepped away. “Dinner was great. I…Just in case you’re wondering, I didn’t stop because—”

“Oh no,” Jenna said abruptly, holding up one hand. “We’re not going down that road.”

Gard frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We’re not doing the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine. There is no fault here, no blame.” Jenna jumped down from the counter. “Maybe another time.”

“Sure. Maybe.”

Gard quickly strode to the door and pulled it open. She paused, her eyes bleak. “What I was going to say is that I stopped because I wouldn’t have stopped with just a kiss.”

Jenna pulled into the Leaf Peeper parking lot just after midnight. The only light came from the unit she now shared with Alice. The single-pane glass windows in the adjoining units looked like the flat dead eyes of mourners at a funeral.

“Hi,” she said when she let herself into the room. Alice, in sweats and a New York Yankees T-shirt, sat on one of the two double beds, pillows propped up behind her back, her computer balanced on her knees. Jenna didn’t think she’d ever seen her look so casual. When they traveled, they had separate rooms and she’d never seen Alice in anything less formal than pants and polo shirts. Usually she was in full business uniform. Tonight, with her hair loose, dressed in baggy sportswear, she looked a decade younger. Softer. Even more desirable than usual.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Jenna muttered, stalking across the room to the dresser where she’d left her electronics. What was wrong with her? Hormone storm?

“Have a good night?” Alice asked.

“Marvelous. Are you really sure you want to stay here?” Jenna grabbed her laptop and carried it over to the other double bed. The space between her bed and Alice’s was just wide enough to accommodate a nightstand with an alarm clock and a lamp. “It’s pretty cramped.”

“You worry me.” Alice clicked a few keys, then set her laptop on the mattress by her side. “You really can’t be serious about staying up here, so what does another day or two matter?”

Jenna opened her mail program and scanned it as she answered. “Actually, I’m going to move into Elizabeth’s house. The farmhouse. It’s silly to pay to stay somewhere when the house is mine. You’re welcome to come.”

Alice’s brows drew down. “You’re really going to stay long enough to make the move worthwhile?”

“Since you canceled my tour, I’m free—travel-wise at least—for the rest of the summer. I’ve got to get a jump on the new books, and I feel like it’s going to come easily here.” She played the work card without the slightest twinge of guilt. Alice would never argue with anything that helped her work, and in this case, it was true. “It’s perfect, really. What better way to stay motivated than to be immersed in the environment? I’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Handling Elizabeth’s estate, which is going to be a little more complicated than I anticipated, and cranking out the first book.”

“Three birds. You’ll be resting too.” Alice stretched and wiggled her bare toes, flashing the bright red polish on her pedicured nails. “Because God knows, you’re not going to be busy with much of a social life around here.”

“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t about to tell Alice the social life around here was a lot more exciting than anything she’d experienced in the big city, or that she didn’t have any trouble at all thinking of just who she’d chose for company. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Gard since the moment Gard had walked out on her. She didn’t make a habit of casual encounters, but intimate company wasn’t all that difficult to come by when she needed it. And damn it, she really needed it now.

No sexual foray in memory, not even the great marathon sex with Brin, came close to the intensity of the interrupted kiss with Gard. The woman turned her on like no one she’d ever been with. She bet she could come right now with barely a stroke, a theory she would have loved to test if Alice hadn’t been three feet away. She couldn’t remember the last time a woman had gotten her so excited she’d had to take matters into her own hands. She usually had far better control than that.

Of course, maybe Gard affected her so strongly because Gard pulled back first, catching her when she’d already let down her defenses. When she’d ached to have Gard take her. Gard had wanted her, she’d seen the desire in her eyes. But something held her back, and that something nagged at Jenna like a splinter just under the surface of her skin. She could see it, could feel the constant little stabs of pain, could hear the constant taunts of do it, do it, do it. She wanted to dig beneath the surface and find out what caused a woman like Gard—handsome, smart, accomplished—to resist something as simple as a kiss. What was that all about?

“Where did you just go?” Alice sat up, her expression moving from curious to suspicious. “What’s going on?”

Jenna considered making something up. She wasn’t in the mood for an argument with Alice. She was still too unsettled after the near miss with Gard. But lying wasn’t her style. And this was Alice, after all. “The social opportunities around here are just fine.”

“You’re stalling.”

Jenna laughed. “I am. I, uh, kind of made a move on Gard tonight.”

“Jenna!” Alice looked like she was going to take flight. “I told you not her. Why, why, why can’t you ever do anything I say?”

“You’re kidding, right? You’ve got to be kidding. I always listen to you.” Jenna was laughing so hard at the absurdity of Alice’s statement she could hardly catch her breath. “I’m like a good little soldier. You give me my schedule, I follow it to a T. You tell me you want a manuscript yesterday, I deliver the day before yesterday. I’m sorry my love life isn’t quite as easy to arrange as my writing schedule.”

“What did you do? Please God, tell me you didn’t sleep with her.”

Suddenly serious, Jenna said, “And if I had?”

“Just tell me. Did you?”

“No, but I wanted to.”

“Okay. Clearly, compromise is needed.”

Jenna shook her head, but before she could say that her personal life was not something she was going to let Alice manage, Alice interrupted.

“Here’s the deal. Go ahead and sleep with her, because I have a feeling you’re going to no matter what I say. But it stays here. Kind of like Vegas. What happens in” —she frowned— “Bumfuck, Vermont, stays in Bumfuck, Vermont.”

“Agreed,” Jenna said, because that was her plan as well. “If we sleep together, it ends when I leave.”

“You mean it?”

“Absolutely,” Jenna said with certainty. After all, what other alternative was there?

“A beer—Dogfish Head if you’ve got it,” Gard said to the bartender in the roadhouse one county over. She didn’t drink where she worked, unless she was meeting Rina for a quick beer and burger in the evening. If she showed up at one of the taverns in Little Falls at one in the morning, everyone would know about it by breakfast. One of the simple realities of small-town living. So she’d driven close to an hour for a little anonymity. She needed to burn off some energy or she’d be up pacing around half the night again. All she could see was the hazy want in Jenna’s eyes. Her clit still pounded with frustrated arousal. Maybe a beer would dull the desire.

“Here you go.” The bartender slid a sweating bottle across the counter to her. Two wet trails like fat snail tracks followed the bottle’s path. She pushed a five back. “Thanks.”

The bar was one big room divided into a small seating section with tables and chairs at one end, a couple of booths across from the bar where she sat, and a pool table tucked into an alcove just to the left of the door. She and three men in long-sleeved green work shirts and canvas pants occupied the bar, each with an empty stool between them, defining their territory and their isolation. She drained her beer and asked for another. This one she sipped, knowing it had to be her last.

Lust curled inside her, gnawing at her flesh while the memory of Jenna’s mouth seared the surface of her brain. She had sworn off women because of Susannah, but she hadn’t wallowed with a broken heart. She hadn’t been interested in getting to know anyone beyond the casual conversation that would lead to a night or two of sex, and she hadn’t even had that in a couple of years. She knew more about Jenna Hardy than she’d known about the women she’d slept with, and the disruption of the pattern she’d grown comfortable with disturbed her. Jenna disturbed her. She was beautiful and sexy and smart. Who wouldn’t want to sleep with her? Hell, she did want to sleep with her, was practically sick with wanting her. But Jenna pulled up her shields and retreated from intimacy just as she did, and that was damn scary. She knew a little bit about why people put up barriers, and if Jenna had unhealed wounds, she didn’t want to expose them. She didn’t want to know about them or care about them or risk making them worse. She didn’t want the responsibility, and she sure as hell didn’t want the pain.

She looked down and saw that her bottle was empty and now she had no excuse to stay. She reached for her keys on the bartop and stopped when a feminine hand settled on her wrist. A young blonde, maybe twenty-five, slid onto the stool next to her and leaned against Gard’s shoulder.

“Get you another one?”

“No, thanks. I’ve hit my limit,” Gard said.

“Not a big drinker.”

“No. Can I get you something?”

“Coke?”

“Two Cokes,” Gard called to the bartender. She didn’t know the young woman, and she didn’t look or sound like a local. She was wearing tapered blood-red pants that ended mid-calf, a skimpy white spandex top, and low-heeled sandals. The men at the bar paid them no attention. “Are you staying around here?”

“I’m organizing summer conferences at Bennington College. I was just on my way back from a weekend in Boston. That’s where I live.”

“How did you end up in here?”

“I was starting to get a little sleepy so I thought I better stop.” She lowered her voice. “You were the safest-looking one in here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Gard laughed. “I think they’re all pretty safe, but I definitely don’t mind. I’m Gard Davis.”

“Madison Elliott. My friends call me Madison.”

Gard laughed again. “Nice to meet you, Madison.”

Madison looked pointedly at Gard’s left hand when Gard handed some bills to the bartender. Madison’s thigh pressed a little more firmly against hers.

“If you’re too tired to drive,” Gard said, “I can take you to Bennington. You can have someone drive you back here tomorrow to pick up your car. It should be safe enough in the parking lot, and I know the county sheriff. She can have someone check on it. If you like.”

“You’d do that? Drive me to Bennington tonight?”

“Sure. I’m used to being up at all hours. And we wouldn’t want you to get in an accident.”

“You could stay with me—I’ve got my own room—and drive me back here tomorrow.” Madison drank some Coke and pushed the glass away. She caught Gard’s gaze, held it unblinking. “If you like.”

Gard collected her change. “Let me drive you home.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Oh my God,” Alice moaned, staring at her breakfast plate as if it might leap off the table and bite her in the neck. “If I keep eating like this, I’m going to have to hire a moving van to get me back to Manhattan.”

“I told you not to order the Trucker’s Special.” Jenna started in on her own more modest plate of eggs and ham.

The diner was full at shortly after seven a.m. She and Alice weren’t the only women, but they were the only ones among the long-distance truckers, contractors, and farmers who didn’t look like they were about to put in a very hard day of physical labor. She tried not to search for Gard each time the door opened, but she couldn’t help herself. She’d gone to sleep with the memory of Gard’s mouth on hers and the sensation of the hard muscles in Gard’s shoulders flexing under her fingers. Gard’s strength was exciting, but it was the look on her face—barely restrained hunger—that had her tossing and turning half the night. Now every time the door whooshed open and someone who wasn’t Gard walked in, a wave of disappointment rippled through her. Foolish, probably, but the anticipation itself, a kind of sweet agony, was new and different. She’d never longed for a woman, not like this.

Alice leaned across the table conspiratorially. “It’s not safe for you to stay up here alone. You’re supposed to be taking a sabbatical for your health. This place is going to kill you.”

“Dramatic much?” Jenna smiled.

“You say that now. Give it a couple of weeks.” Alice narrowed her eyes in warning, but didn’t seem deterred from attacking the mountain of food on her plate.

Eating absently, Jenna checked e-mail on her iPhone. Just as she was about to fire off a response to a query from one of her readers asking when her next book was due out, she heard a female voice whisper, “So did you hear the latest about Gard Davis?”

Jenna almost turned her head toward the two waitresses leaning on the breakfast counter directly across from her booth, but managed to keep her eyes on her phone while she eavesdropped shamelessly.

“No, what?” the other waitress said.

“I heard from Shirley that Jerry Benson said that Gard was out to Ramiro’s way over in West Dover last night.”

“Well hell, a body ought to be able to drink wherever they want. What of it?”

“Seems odd she’d go almost an hour away when we have a perfectly good tavern right down the street, don’t you think?” the first cigarette-roughened voice shot back.

“I guess maybe she wanted a little privacy, which sure is hard to get around here.”

“Well, I’d say you’re right, considering she left the place with some young girl.”

The second woman scoffed. “What do you mean left?”

Jenna’s stomach took a wild dive.

“I mean left, as in drove off with her in her truck. Left the girl’s car right there in the parking lot.”

“Left the car, huh?” The second woman sounded curious now. “Who was the girl?”

“Jerry didn’t know her. Said she looked like a city girl.” The waitress made city girl seem unsavory. “Maybe Gard’s got a girlfriend she keeps someplace else. You know you never see her with anyone.”

“Maybe unlike some people, she doesn’t care to parade her private life all over the streets.”

“Oh, are you ever gonna let me forget that time Jimmy Williams and I got a little frisky in the back of his pickup truck?”

“Frisky?” the second woman exclaimed. “You two were buck naked and half the town saw you.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” The cigarette smoker laughed, her tone suddenly years lighter. “And I’d do it again too. He had the biggest damn—”

“Shh,” the other woman chided. “Not in front of the customers.”

Chuckling, the two women disappeared into the kitchen, reemerging a few seconds later with trays laden with enough food per plate for a family of four. Jenna wasn’t hungry any longer and pushed her plate aside. She reached for her coffee, pleased her hand was steady because the rest of her wasn’t.

“I gather you heard that,” Alice said with unusual nonchalance.

“Rather hard not to.” Jenna hated the annoyance in her voice, and of course Alice would pick up on it and know she was bothered. Damn it. So what if Gard blew her off because she had a date waiting somewhere else? They hadn’t planned anything. Dinner had been a spur-of-the-moment thing. The kiss had been completely unexpected, and she had been the one to start it, after all. Even if Gard had been interested, she wasn’t the type to stand someone up. Oh, hell, none of that mattered. Gard was a completely free agent. Just like she was.

Jenna carefully lined her fork and knife up on either side of the plate, drank her coffee, and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. She met Alice’s appraising stare with what she hoped was unconcerned cool. “You should be pleased.”

“Not if it hurts your feelings.”

Jenna sighed. “I told you if anything should happen between us, it won’t go anywhere. And I’m fine.”

“All right then.” Alice took another bite of pancakes and pushed her plate away with a groan. “At least it didn’t sound like it was the sheriff.”

“Huh. So you do have designs on the local constable.”

“If the circumstances were different, I certainly might. I don’t know how one goes about getting a date around here, though.”

“I imagine it’s the same as any other place,” Jenna said dryly. “People still eat, so why not ask her out to dinner?”

Alice snorted. “Out where? Oscar’s? With the whole town watching?”

“There are lots of upscale bed-and-breakfast places around here. Some of them have got to have nice restaurants. You ought to be able to find a swanky place to take her.”

“You’re pushing the sheriff pretty hard, aren’t you? Trying to eliminate the competition for the vet?”

Jenna thought back to the conversation she’d just heard about Gard and her date. “If I were out to squash the competition, I’d have quite a big job.”

Gard spotted the red Audi parked in front of Oscar’s and told herself to drive on by. Jenna might not even be inside. Alice could be in there alone, having breakfast by herself. Even if Jenna was there, she’d be with Alice and Gard would be interrupting. Besides, she couldn’t think of a single plausible excuse to stop, other than she just wanted to see her. And hell, that crazy impulse was reason enough to keep on going. She had a dozen calls to make.

None of them were urgent, though.

Just the same, her schedule might be light but she had mountains of paperwork to plow through after rounds. While she catalogued reasons to keep driving, her truck seemed to be navigating all by itself. Her Ford bumped off the road into Oscar’s and parked, completely on its own. She sat with the engine idling, her hands on the wheel, wondering what she would say when she saw Jenna again. The kiss was amazing, but not nearly enough? I want to sit and watch the sun go down with you beside me. I want to see the sunrise with you in my arms and make love to you before the world wakes up. I’m sorry I left—I wanted to stay.

Jesus Christ—she’d sound like a lunatic.

The dilemma was solved for her when Alice and Jenna came through the revolving door and headed for her. She’d parked next to the Audi. Not wanting to appear like some kind of stalker, just sitting in the lot, she shut off the engine and jumped out of the truck. Jenna made her way between the two vehicles toward the passenger door of the Audi. Gard had to jam her ass against her truck to make enough room for Jenna to get by because Jenna acted as if she weren’t even standing there.

“Morning.” Gard sucked in a breath as Jenna pulled open the car door. Jenna looked great in tight faded jeans and a navy top that was just clingy enough to show the curve of her breasts. Gard’s mouth went dry.

“Good morning,” Jenna said with a decided chill. She slid into the convertible and closed the door. Loudly.

Gard frowned. Where had the woman with the hot eyes gone? The freeze in Jenna’s gaze this morning was so icy she felt cold to the bone. Maybe Jenna regretted the kiss. Or more likely she was insulted by Gard putting her hands all over her and then walking out. She couldn’t blame her. She’d been sending mixed signals, and wasn’t proud of it.

Placing both hands on the open window ledge of the convertible, Gard leaned over as Jenna jerked her seat belt across her body and shoved it into the clasp. Alice, behind the wheel, started the engine, stared straight ahead, and did a pretty good job of pretending that she didn’t see Gard.

“I don’t blame you for being mad,” Gard murmured. “But—”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Jenna said tightly. “And I’m not mad. I don’t do mad where women are concerned.”

“Okay, but—”

“I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position last night. My mistake.”

“You didn’t—I—”

“Let’s just forget it happened. We got our signals crossed, no harm done.” Jenna gave her an empty smile that was worse than a slap. “I’ve got a lot to do this morning, and I need to be going.”

“Of course.” Gard took her hands from the door and glanced at Alice, who had swiveled in her seat and was regarding Gard with what might have been pity. “I’ll let you go.”

She backed up another inch as the Audi shot backwards, rocketed across the gravel lot, and bounced out onto the road. She watched for a few seconds until it disappeared. She was about to get back into her truck when the sheriff’s cruiser came from the opposite direction, angled off the highway, and pulled into the spot Alice had just vacated. Rina climbed out, glanced once back up the highway in the direction Alice had disappeared, and shook her head. “You’d think if she was gonna drive like that, she’d get a car that wasn’t quite so obvious.”

“Do they ever?”

“Nope.” Rina laughed. “Red convertibles are always a gimme when I need to fill my ticket quota. Not that I have a quota, mind you. Buy you a cup of coffee or are you just leaving?”

Gard wasn’t sure if she was coming or going. She was still trying to figure out the disjointed conversation with Jenna.

“Coffee sounds good.”

They walked in together and scored a booth. After the waitress poured coffee and disappeared, Gard said, “Thanks again for having your deputy check on Madison’s car.”

“Not a problem.” Rina turned the heavy white ceramic mug in a slow circle on the scarred wooden tabletop. “Did you take her back out to Dover this morning?”

“No. She was going to get someone in the dorm where she’s staying to give her a lift. I have calls and none of them are in that direction.” Gard paused, wondering about Rina’s cautious tone. “Are you trying to ask me if I spent the night with her?”

Rina raised her eyes. “None of my business.”

Gard waited.

“But, yes. I guess I am.” Rina glanced around the diner and lowered her voice. “Quite a few people are curious about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know how it is around here. Not much to talk about except your neighbor’s business. Jerry Bensen was coming in to Ramiro’s when you were leaving last night. Saw you pull out with her in the truck and was naturally curious. Then he told someone else, who told someone else, who told Shirley Palmer when she served early breakfast this morning.”

Gard groaned. “I guess I didn’t drive far enough for that beer after all.”

Rina laughed. “You’re a good-looking single woman and you don’t make any secret of the kind of company you like. You don’t think everyone around here is curious about who you’re seeing and what you’re doing with her? You’d have to go to another state, and I’m not even sure that would be enough.”

“I’m not running,” Gard bit out. She’d run enough.

Rina’s eyes widened. “Whoa, I’m just giving you a hard time. All the gossip was good-natured and most of it was pretty vague. You’ve got every right to see whoever you want and nobody ever said otherwise.”

“Sorry.” She was being way too sensitive. She knew the score, had known it when she’d moved here. She had opted to trade the false anonymity of elite society for the open scrutiny of a small, close-knit community. Despite the generally good-natured gossip, most people around here really did live and let live. “For what it’s worth, I dropped her off about two and went home to bed. Alone.”

“Well, that certainly isn’t what I’d call juicy gossip.”

Gard laughed. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I didn’t say I was disappointed.”

Gard thought back to the encounter with Jenna in the parking lot. If Jenna’d heard the same rumors that Rina had, her cold shoulder made sense. Jenna probably thought she had gone directly from groping her to sleeping with someone else. Jenna was almost right too. She’d still been so wound up from being with Jenna, that when Madison had slid across the front seat while she was driving and started playing with the hair at the back of her neck, she’d gotten hot again even though she hadn’t wanted to. She’d tried to hide it but Madison must have noticed, because when she pulled into the parking lot where Madison directed her to stop, Madison had kissed her and she’d kissed her back. She was horny and Madison promised to douse the flames that simmered deep down inside her. She’d let the kiss go on for almost a minute before she’d picked up on the change in Madison’s breathing. When she registered the urgent way Madison moved against her, she called a halt before things really went too far. She wasn’t about to say no twice in one night to a woman she’d led on.

“Nothing happened,” Gard said.

“You don’t sound all that happy about it.”

“No. I’m perfectly happy with it. I’m not looking for any kind of entanglement. Even casual.”

“That’s nice—that you’re not looking for anything, I mean.” Rina sipped her coffee. “But you know, sometimes life comes calling all the same.”

Chapter Sixteen

Jenna didn’t want to think about Gard, and she knew exactly how to put the irritating vet out of her mind. The same way she had always handled disappointment, anger, or fear. She’d settle into her Cassandra-mindset and work. When she was writing, she disengaged her conscious mind from all the stress and obligations of her daily life, and she lost herself—no, that wasn’t quite right—she immersed herself in the lives of her characters. She couldn’t write her best while straddling two worlds. She needed to be in one or the other, and for most of her life, the world she preferred was the one she created. The joy, the heartache, the passion were just as real as any emotion she had ever experienced. Growing up, when her life had been drab and bleak and dangerous, she’d always found refuge in other worlds, other lives. Becoming Cassandra had taken hard work and a lot of luck, but she could count on the life she’d made not to let her down. Once she got lost in the new book, Gard would cease to haunt her thoughts.

After breakfast, she checked out of the motel, and she and Alice drove to Birch Hill. They started upstairs and spent the morning carefully packing away Elizabeth’s keepsakes. Jenna wasn’t certain what she was going to do with them, but at least in the short term she would store them. They put fresh linens, pillowcases, and covers on the beds in two of the bedrooms, emptied drawers, folded away clothes—working in silence, reverently, careful with what Elizabeth had left to Jenna. When they stopped for lunch, Alice wanted to look through the studio while Jenna put sandwiches together. When Alice came down to the kitchen, she pulled out a chair at the table, her expression pensive.

“I know a gallery owner in Manhattan,” Alice said. “I think we should have her come up here and look at those paintings.” She drummed her fingers on the table, the clear polish flashing in the sunlight. “What do you think about some kind of event playing off the family art connection? An Elizabeth Hardy and Cassandra Hart joint show—we could display her art in combination with you doing a reading. There are dozens of independent bookstores in this state alone, and I bet we could get a lot of them interested in this.”

Jenna picked up the paring knife she’d used to peel cucumbers and wiped the blade with a wet cloth. “You want me to do a book event up here? Why? You’ve always wanted me to stick to the big cities before.”

“I know, because that’s where the sales are concentrated. But,” Alice held up a finger and waved it back and forth in the air, “with the new direction you’re taking for this series, and this new development in your life, it’s a perfect opportunity to pull in a different kind of reader. The grassroots, lifelong romance reader. You know we have them—being gay doesn’t change the profile. And it’s good promotion to show we’re interested in the small bookstores too.”

“Since when? You’re always harping at me to conserve my energy for the big—”

“You won’t have to travel—that’s my whole point. I’m not talking about the gay bookstores. Just about every town has an indie bookstore.” Alice made a face. “Well, any town that’s bigger than a blink, which lets out Little Falls.”

“I’m more than happy to do any book event, you know that,” Jenna said. “If you want to set something up, go ahead. And as far as the gallery owner goes—if you trust her judgment, that’s enough for me. It’s one less thing I have to worry about.”

“Perfect. I’ll make some calls.” Alice stood up and rubbed her hands together, never happier than when she was planning and promoting.

“I’m going to spend the rest of the day in my office.” Jenna really liked the sound of that, even though at the moment her office was actually a sitting room off the parlor. She thought the room that jutted out from the house, giving it three walls of windows, was meant to be a sewing room, but it was perfect for her to write in. Situated at the back of the house, the view was of the barns and the fields and the mountains beyond. Whenever she looked up, she’d be surrounded by nothing but nature. She knew some of her colleagues liked to work in rooms without windows because they were never distracted, but she found changing her focus actually helped her sometimes, especially when she wasn’t quite sure where the next scene was going. “Will you be able to entertain yourself?”

“I’ve got plenty to do,” Alice said. “And I really am planning to do some sightseeing. I haven’t had a vacation in…since before you became a star.”

“Good,” Jenna said absently, her mind already on the next scene she intended to write. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Does that mean Oscar’s again?” Alice put on a brave face.

“Why don’t we live a little and explore the countryside. Maybe find an inn with a restaurant.”

“It’s a date.”

A date. Could it be? Jenna watched Alice as she gathered her keys and briefcase from the sideboard in the kitchen. She’d changed into khaki shorts and a sleeveless white blouse, and she looked fresh and toned and quite beautiful. Jenna had always found Alice attractive in an objective kind of way. They’d been friends for a long time. She trusted Alice in a way that she didn’t trust anyone else. And spending time with her up here, relaxed and companionable, was easy. Comfortable. Maybe that was enough to build a relationship on.

Alice turned as if to say something and stopped with a quizzical expression on her face. “What?”

Jenna shook her head, feeling the color rise to her cheeks. “Nothing. I was…nothing.”

Alice raised her brows, a playful expression in her eyes. “You were cruising me.”

“Oh God,” Jenna said. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends?” Jenna wrapped her arms around her middle. The sudden awkwardness turned Alice into a stranger, and the space between them seemed to shrink even though neither one of them had moved.

“And friends can’t be attracted to each other?” Alice’s voice had gotten husky and warm. “I’ve always been attracted to you, but I felt it would be inappropriate. Not because of the business, but because…”

“Because why?” Jenna asked gently and Alice swallowed, the movement causing her throat to shimmer. She was so very lovely. Why had she never noticed, and why now? “How could anything that happened between us be wrong?”

“Not wrong, no. Just…” Alice sighed. “I know you can take care of yourself. God, you proved that by surviving on your own when you were only a teenager. But I guess I’ve always felt a little responsible for you.”

“I’d be lost without you,” Jenna said honestly, “but not because I need you to take care of me. You’re the only constant in my life. You’re the one I trust.”

They stared at one another and the air thickened with summer heat and possibility.

“I think I should go for a drive,” Alice said quietly, “and let you work. And maybe we should both think about what we’re saying. Because I don’t think it would be casual, Jenna.”

“I know,” Jenna said softly. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Alice smiled a little wistfully, and then she was gone. Jenna listened to the sound of the Audi roaring down the drive, imagining herself kissing Alice, holding her. Every time she tried, she remembered the demanding press of Gard’s mouth and her lean, hard body and the picture dissolved.

Gard knelt in the dirt next to the anesthetized pig. She inserted the oral speculum and checked the boar’s canines. All four were extruded, but one was close to four inches long and about to pierce his lip.

“We’ll have to take that one down,” she told Mike Burns, pointing to the longest of the four teeth. “The others don’t really look like they’re a problem, but I can saw them off if you want.”

“I think just the one for now.”

“No problem.” She grabbed the Gigli saw from her kit and hooked the eighteen-inch-long strand of woven wire, fitted out with a rod-like handle at each end, around the left mandibular canine. “You want to stabilize his head? This will just take a minute.”

Mike held the pig’s snout as she positioned the wire blade a few millimeters above the gum line. She thought she saw the pig twitch, but when she waited a few seconds, watching, he didn’t move again. She’d given him a hefty dose of ketamine and Telazol, so he should be out for a few more minutes. He was a big animal and she didn’t want him waking up while she was working. Just as she began to cut, a sharp crack reverberated through the air. This time she was certain the pig twitched.

“Gunshot,” Mike muttered. “Somebody jumping the gun on hunting season.”

“Great,” Gard muttered, sawing through the tooth with as much speed as she dared. She didn’t want to violate the pulp space. The pig would bleed and be in pain, and the open tooth root would be a setup for infection. Two more sharp cracks, followed by a volley, thundered overhead just as she completed the cut through the tooth. The pig jerked, reared his head up, and slashed her forearm with the canine of his upper jaw.

“God damn it!” Gard jerked back and fell on her ass. Mike let go of the snout rope, and the boar staggered to his feet. He took a few steps and went down again, still heavily anesthetized. Gard rolled to her knees, made sure he was breathing, and got to her feet. Blood ran down her forearm and trickled between her fingers.

“Shit! Did he get you bad?” Mike asked.

“I don’t think so.” Gard grabbed a handful of gauze pads from her kit and wiped the blood from her arm. A five-inch gash gaped across her forearm midway between her elbow and the top of her hand. She could extend her fingers, so none of the tendons were damaged. She’d be sore, but once it was sutured, it ought to be okay. “Nothing too serious.”

“You want to come up to the house and get cleaned up?”

“I’d better wash it out,” Gard said. “Then if you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand bandaging it up, that ought to do it.”

Mike looked at the pig, then at Gard. His face clouded. “I’m really sorry, Gard. If you want to send me a bill for the doctor—”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike. It was an accident. Not your fault. We’ll send you a bill for the tooth trim. The rest is on me.” Gard tilted her chin at her med box. “Can you get that?”

“If you’re sure,” Mike said, hurrying to gather up her kit.

“Hey. He’ll need those other teeth done sooner or later, right? I’ll be back for those and charge you double.”

Mike laughed.

After she got the wound irrigated out and a clean bandage wrapped around it, she stowed her gear with Mike’s help and drove slowly down the narrow lane that wound between his cornfields. Once she reached the dirt road that fronted his property, out of sight of the house, she stopped and called Rina.

“Sheriff Gold,” Rina said.

“Hey, it’s Gard. Are you working?”

“Got the night shift. Lucky me. What can I do for you?”

“I’m out at the Burns place, off Route Seven. I could use a ride to Bennington.”

“Got another date?” Rina asked.

“Not so you’d notice. I just got gored by Mike’s stud boar. My arm’s bleeding pretty good and I—”

“Jesus, Gard! Why didn’t you just say so. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Can you hold on that long?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just a little bit worried about driving all that way. Once I get stitched up—”

“Just sit still. I’ll be there.”

Rina’s ten minutes was more like seven. She must have torn up the highway to get there. The cruiser pulled in sharply behind Gard’s truck, and Rina jumped out, leaving the motor running. Gard pushed her door open and climbed down.

“I’m okay,” Gard said. “I just didn’t want to take any chances driving.”

“Let me see.”

Gard held out her left arm. “It’s into the muscle but not as bad as it looks.”

“Uh-huh.” Rina gently cradled Gard’s hand, assessing the blood-soaked bandage. “Come on, let’s get you in the cruiser.”

Gard didn’t argue. Now that she was standing, she felt a little dizzy. She doubted it was from blood loss, more likely just from the aftereffects of adrenaline surge, but she was just as glad she wasn’t going to drive the thirty miles to the hospital. She patted her leg. “Come on, Beam.” The dog jumped down and trotted along beside her. When Rina looped an arm around her waist, she didn’t resist. “I appreciate this.”

“You thank me for something like this and I’m going to kick your ass.”

Gard slid into the front seat of the cruiser after Rina opened the door for her. Beam crowded in at her feet. She let her head fall back on the seat and laughed. “Love you too.”

Four hours later, Rina pulled in behind Gard’s truck and stopped with the engine idling.

“I can take you all the way home,” Rina said.

“I should be fine now,” Gard said. “I don’t want to leave my truck out here any longer. It’ll be dark in another hour or so, and I’ve got equipment and medications onboard. Besides, don’t you need to get to work?”

“I’m the sheriff, remember? I can be late if I want.”

“It’s not that far, and I didn’t let them give me any narcotics. The arm feels good now. I’ve got probably an hour before the local wears off. I’ll be home and tucked up by then.”

“I’ll follow you all the same.”

Gard opened the truck and motioned for Beam to hop in, got behind the wheel, and opened her window. “You don’t have to follow me, but I suppose I can’t talk you out of it.”

“Humor me,” Rina said.

“Don’t I always?”

Rina grinned wryly. “Not so’s you’d notice.”

Gard waited for Rina to get back to the cruiser and then she headed for home, driving carefully with Rina behind her. She was about a mile from her own driveway when a red convertible came zooming around a curve and passed her going a healthy eighty or ninety miles per hour. She glanced in her rearview mirror, caught the flash of Rina’s headlights signaling to her, and then the sheriff’s car made a fast, tight U-turn and screeched off after the convertible. Gard smiled as she pictured Rina locking horns with Alice Smith.

“What do you mean, she chased you down?” Jenna took one last look at the paragraph she had just finished, decided it was adequate, and closed the document. Turning in her chair, she gave Alice her full attention. She’d only been half listening the last few minutes until she registered the words sheriff, speeding, and fine. “How fast were you going?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a little over the speed limit—whatever that is—certainly not too fast for the roads around here. There’s never any traffic!” Alice threw up her hands, the picture of innocence. Jenna narrowed her eyes. She didn’t look contrite, she looked exhilarated.

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

“Which part? The part where she kept me sitting on the side of the road for thirty minutes while she did a crossword puzzle in the front seat of her cruiser? Or the part where every single car, truck, hay wagon, and tractor that went by slowed to approximately a quarter of a mile an hour so everyone could peer into my car? I thought some of them were going to fish out cameras and take my picture.”

Jenna smothered a smile. Not just exhilarated, completely thrilled. “I bet you were hoping she’d get out her handcuffs.”

“You don’t know me well enough to suggest that.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“Believe me, the only thing she wanted to slap on me was a great big juicy fine. Which she did.” Alice folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked thoroughly put out.

“How much?”

“Two-fifty.”

“Wow. You must’ve really been going fast.”

Alice shrugged and looked sheepish before she managed to don her outraged expression again. But that little break had been enough to tell the story.

“What else did you do?” Jenna rose. “Come on. Let’s make some iced tea and sit outside and you can tell me all about it. The sunsets are gorgeous here.”

A few minutes later, they occupied matching rocking chairs on the broad back porch. Below them in the fields, the cows clustered in a patchwork quilt of brown and white. Broken shards of sunlight cascaded over the mountaintops, the golden light fracturing into reds and oranges, bleeding down the mountains. A breeze cooled the perspiration on her neck, and Jenna felt very close to peaceful.

“So. You were going to tell me exactly what you did to get such a whopping fine.”

“Nothing,” Alice said far too quickly.

“Come clean.” Jenna sipped her tea.

“I suppose I irritated her a little bit when I accused her of lying in wait behind Gard’s truck. And I might have suggested that speed traps were illegal or something. Maybe the word attorney slipped out.”

“Wait, back up. Gard was there too?”

“Well, sort of. They were coming back from the hospital, apparently, because the sheriff got very snarky when she said that she was actually doing something important when she had to stop to deal with an irresponsible, arrogant city girl who didn’t—”

Jenna’s breath caught. “Hospital. What does that mean, hospital?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t exactly give me the details.”

“Think,” Jenna said sternly.

“I was a little bit preoccupied at the time,” Alice protested. “It’s not like the world stopped for me when she mentioned Gard’s name, you know.” Alice must have figured out from Jenna’s glare that Jenna was serious, because she sighed and looked thoughtful. “All right, she said…she shouldn’t have to leave a responsible citizen like Gard, who’d just been released from the hospital, to deal with—” Alice waved her hand in the air. “And then that was the part about the irresponsible, arrogant city girl.”

“Gard was hurt?” Jenna said quietly.

“Well, she couldn’t have been hurt very badly, she was driving her truck.”

“But the sheriff was following her. And she said that Gard had just come from the hospital.” Jenna stood. “Why didn’t you tell me that right away?”

Alice looked confused. “Which part? The part where I was humiliated, or the part where I got the fine, or the part where I was insulted by—”

“Never mind.”

“Where are you going?” Alice called as Jenna hurried into the house.

“To be a good neighbor,” she called back.

Chapter Seventeen

Gard closed the refrigerator door with her knee, juggled the jar of mayonnaise and packet of lunch meat in the crook of her right arm, and fumbled them onto the table just as the doorbell rang for the second time.

“Coming,” she shouted as she made her way down the hall. Clicking on the porch light, she peered through the vertical windows beside the heavy oak door, jolting in surprise when she saw Jenna peering back. Hastily, she pulled open the door. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Jenna said quietly, her attention shifting to Gard’s forearm. “How are you doing?”

Frowning, Gard followed her gaze, then shrugged. “It’s nothing. How did you know?”

“Alice said the sheriff said something about you being at the hospital—” Jenna’s eyes widened and even in the waning daylight, her blush was vivid. “Oh my God! I’m starting to sound like the people in the diner. I am so sorry. You must think I’m completely invading your privacy—I am completely invading your privacy. I’m leaving right no—”

“No, don’t.” Gard pulled the door open wide. “Come on in. I was just making dinner.” She grimaced. “Except it’s baloney and cheese sandwiches and somehow I don’t think that’s quite what I ought to be offering you for your first meal here. Not after what you made for me.”

“I didn’t come over to be entertained.” Jenna walked in and Gard closed the door. “I was worried. How bad is it?”

“It’s really nothing.” Gard led Jenna back to the kitchen. “A few stitches.”

Jenna regarded her suspiciously. “How many stitches?”

Gard put her good hand into the pocket of her pants, but she didn’t have any coins to jiggle and pulled her hand back out. Glancing sideways at Jenna, she said, “Twenty, if you count the ones inside, but—”

“Sit down,” Jenna said, pointing to a chair. “I’ll fix you something to eat. Only it’s not going to be baloney and cheese. If you don’t mind me knocking around your kitchen, I’ll cook.”

“No way.” Gard got between Jenna and the refrigerator. “You sit. You’re my guest tonight.”

“You’re hurt.” Jenna’s eyes flashed with a little bit of anger, a little bit of worry.

Gard had never noticed the tiny flecks of black diamond swirling through the green, but now, so close to her, she was mesmerized. “You’ve got beautiful eyes.”

“Shut up.” Jenna caught her lower lip between her teeth, the flush creeping down her neck. “Don’t say anything else, and whatever you do, don’t touch me.”

“Why is that?” Gard stepped closer until they were only a few inches apart. Jenna was breathing noticeably faster, the tip of her tongue peeking out to moisten her lower lip when she released it from between her teeth. “You look so damn kissable right now.”

“I don’t know why it is,” Jenna said, her voice breathy and low, “but you make me want to be kissed like no one I’ve ever known.”

Gard traced a finger along the edge of Jenna’s jaw. “I don’t think I want to know how many women that’s been.”

“Jealous?” Jenna knew she was teasing, wanted to tease her. She’d rushed over to Gard’s to be sure she wasn’t hurt badly, but just one look at her had rekindled the wanting. The wanting had quickly caught flame and by the time they’d reached the kitchen, she was fully involved. All she could think about now was Gard touching her, kissing her, holding her. She snapped herself back to the present. Gard was hurt. “We are not doing this tonight.”

Gard brushed her thumb over Jenna’s lower lip, then pushed in just a little farther until the pad grazed over the moist inner surface of Jenna’s lip. “What are we doing? Huh?”

Jenna licked the tip of Gard’s thumb, aching to suck it. Aching to taste her. And where in Hell had her brains gone. She jerked her head back but Gard’s hand on her jaw blocked her escape.

“What are we doing?” Gard stroked Jenna’s lip, sending sparks showering straight to Jenna’s core. “Jen?”

Jenna planted her hands on Gard’s chest and pushed her backwards, one slow step at a time. “What we’re not doing is fooling around.”

The muscles in Gard’s chest and shoulders tightened beneath Jenna’s hands. God, she had a gorgeous body. Jenna couldn’t help but imagine what all that strength would feel like moving on top of her, moving inside her, and she felt herself go liquid. Go ready. Gard’s eyes flared, and Jenna knew she knew.

“I never heard how you got hurt,” Jenna said hoarsely, maneuvering Gard back the last inch until her legs hit the kitchen chair and she sat. “Tell me while I make your sandwich. But I’m not eating one of those things.”

“There’s some leftover pizza in the refrigerator.”

“I’m not really hungry.” Jenna set about assembling the sandwich, aware of Gard watching her. She concentrated on the mindless activity to keep her mind off the way Gard always made her feel like the absolute center of her attention. She’d been ignored as a child, and as Cassandra was used to being on stage, but rarely had anyone looked at her with such intensity. Having Gard’s gaze on her was as exciting as being touched. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Want to join me for a beer? There’re a couple of Long Trails in the refrigerator.”

“I will, thanks.” Jenna pushed the plate with the sandwich on it over to Gard, got out two bottles of ale, found the bottle opener where Gard directed her, popped the tops, and set a bottle in front of Gard. She sat down next to Gard and sipped from hers.

Gard took a big bite of the sandwich, then another. “Good.”

“It’s baloney. How could it be?”

Grinning, Gard finished chewing, tilted the beer bottle, and took three long swallows, her eyes never leaving Jenna. “How’s your writing coming along?”

“My new book?” Jenna was surprised that Gard would care.

“Can you tell me what it’s about so far, or is that a trade secret?”

“You really can’t be interested.”

“Wrong,” Gard said softly. “I am.”

“I’ve really just started.” Jenna laughed, hoped she wasn’t blushing. “Something a little bit different for me. I’m writing a love story, of course, that’s what I write, but this one is set in a little town a lot like this one.”

Gard’s brows rose. “Really? And who’s the hero?”

Looking at her, Jenna realized immediately who she’d written that day. “You. I mean, a character a lot like you. I’m going to make her a vet—I just decided that right this minute.”

“Not biographical, I hope.”

“Only insofar as she’s devastatingly handsome, effortlessly charming, and drop-dead sexy.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Oh, that’s exactly what I think.” Jenna recognized she was flirting again, and the feeling was a little bit intoxicating. “Of course, I don’t really know what it is that you do, but that’s what the Internet is for.”

“Why get it secondhand, when you could experience it yourself?”

Jenna wondered if they were talking about her book anymore. “What did you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you come out with me on some of my calls? That would be better, right? Give you more of the details that you need?”

“That would be amazing.” Jenna sat forward, excited. “You wouldn’t mind? Believe me, the character wouldn’t be recognizable, even if anyone in Little Falls did read my books.”

“You think they don’t? Rina knows who you are.”

“She might be the only one in Vermont, then.”

“I doubt it. Cassandra Hart sounds a lot more famous than you like to let on.”

Jenna waved that away with a flick of her hand. “Never mind that. You’re sure I can come out with you?”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t be working tomorrow.” Jenna brushed the bandage on Gard’s arm. “You need to recover.”

Gard laughed. “Sweetheart, I can’t stop working because I’ve got a little scratch.”

“I can’t believe that’s a little scratch. And you’ve very neatly distracted me so that you didn’t have to tell me what happened.” She stood up and pointed a finger at Gard. “I’m going to clean up and you are going to tell me what happened.”

“Oh yeah?” Gard grabbed Jenna’s hand with her uninjured arm and pulled Jenna onto her lap. She looped an arm around Jenna’s waist, holding her. “You sure?”

“Talk,” Jenna said. Being this close to Gard was dangerous, but she didn’t care. She laced both arms around Gard’s neck and leaned back so she could watch her face. “No touching.”

“It was a boar.” Gard stroked the outside of Jenna’s thigh below her shorts. Each gentle caress was a streak of fire. “I was doing some dental work and—”

“Wait a minute. A pig?”

“A very big pig,” Gard said with some heat.

Jenna almost smiled. “All right. A very big, mean pig, I gather.”

“All pigs are mean,” Gard said. “This one is especially nasty when he’s awake.”

“Wasn’t he?”

“He was supposed to be anesthetized,” Gard said. “He was getting a little light and some idiots were firing rounds in the woods out behind the farm. The unusual stimulation was enough to wake him up. I was almost done when he got me.”

Jenna cradled Gard’s injured arm in her lap, carefully stroking the white gauze wrapped around Gard’s forearm. “I’m sorry. Will it be all right?”

“Yes. It’ll be sore for a few days, and I’ll need to take it easy with the heavy work for another week or so. But it’ll be fine.”

Gard’s voice had dropped and the slow strokes on Jenna’s leg had become firmer, trailing over the top of her thigh and lightly down the inside, just above her knee.

“I need to get off your lap,” Jenna whispered.

“Why?” Gard nuzzled the side of Jenna’s neck.

“I’m going to forget you’re injured in another few seconds.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Gard slowly, deliberately, kissed her way up Jenna’s neck and tugged gently on the gold stud in her pierced earlobe.

Jenna arched, unable to stifle a faint whimper. The little pinpoint of pleasure streaked down the center of her body and struck her clitoris. She realized she was grinding her butt into Gard’s lap, an invitation she hadn’t meant to make and was afraid she couldn’t stop. With more strength than she thought she had, she pushed herself up and away from Gard.

“Sorry,” Jenna muttered. “Sorry.”

“My fault.” Gard didn’t want to let her go and barely restrained herself from yanking Jenna back into her arms. Her stomach was rigid, a hard hot plank of desire. She hadn’t meant to touch her in the first place, but watching her move around the kitchen, bantering with her a little, just being with her had been so damn easy. So damn good. “Sorry.”

“No, you didn’t do anything.” Jenna shook her head and backed up another step. “I can’t seem to think straight around you.”

“I don’t believe what we were doing had anything to do with thinking.”

“My point exactly.”

“The other night you wanted me to kiss you. You wanted me to do more than that,” Gard said.

“The other night you didn’t want me.”

Gard’s jaw clenched. “That’s where you’re wrong. I wanted you. I haven’t stopped thinking about wanting you.”

“Even when you were with your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend.” Gard blew out a breath. “So you did hear the rumor. Look—”

“Never mind. God damn it. It’s none of my business and I know it.” Jenna turned to leave. “We’re not having this conversation. It’s completely unnecessary. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

Gard stood up. “That’s bullshit. You came over here for something else.”

“You don’t know me well enough to read my mind.”

“Can anyone?”

Jenna shook her head. “No.”

“What about Alice?”

“What about Alice?” Jenna asked.

“She knows you, doesn’t she? I got the feeling Alice didn’t think too much of me.”

“Alice is a good friend. She cares about me. That’s all.”

“You’re not lovers?”

Jenna paused. “No.”

“Do you want to be?”

“It would make sense.” Jenna glanced at Gard. “We’re compatible. We have the same passion—we work too much and we both get more satisfaction from work than anything else. It would be easy and comfortable.”

“Convenient.”

“Yes. Would that be so bad?”

“Probably not.” Gard lifted her shoulder. “If more relationships were like that, they might last.”

“What about you and the girl last night?”

“I just met her.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Her name is Madison. We bumped into each other at a bar. She’d been driving all night and was pretty played out. I took her home. That’s all.”

“Rescuing the damsel in distress.” Jenna nodded. “That seems to be your thing—taking care of people.”

“You’re reading that all wrong.” Gard wanted her to know the truth—that she wasn’t anyone to look up to. “One thing I’m not is a hero.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

“I don’t want you laboring under any misconceptions about me.” Gard saw a shadow flicker in Jenna’s eyes, saw Jenna swallow a question, and she knew. She couldn’t escape her past, even here. “What have you heard?”

“Nothing,” Jenna said.

“Jenna,” Gard said, shaking her head.

Jenna knelt in front of Gard’s chair and put both hands on her thighs. Her eyes were fiery. “Listen to me. Alice recognized your name and said there’d been some kind of trouble. She didn’t know the details.”

Gard snorted. “I find that very hard to believe. Alice doesn’t look like anything gets by her. She told you I’d been in trouble with the law, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I don’t care.”

“You would, sooner or later.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know me.”

“I know you took care of me when I was hurt. You consoled me when I was sad. You make me laugh. You turn me on.”

“How long are you going to be here?”

“A few weeks,” Jenna said, but even as she did, she wondered if that was true. She had no obligations for the rest of the summer. She liked being at Birch Hill, and she liked being around Gard.

“Then we don’t really need to know anything more about each other, do we,” Gard said.

“Not really.”

“So why don’t we leave things at that.”

“That’s fine with me.” Jenna pushed upright. “I should go. Let you rest if you aren’t going to take time off.”

“One more thing.” Gard stood, caught Jenna by the shoulder, and kissed her. She slipped her tongue into Jenna’s mouth and Jenna’s arms came hard around her neck. Jenna was electric in her arms, pressing into her, molding to every curve and hollow of her body, hips circling demandingly. When she caressed the rise of Jenna’s hip and squeezed her small tight butt, Jenna moaned and sucked on her tongue. The sound of her pleasure, the bite of her teeth, was a shot to the gut. Gard gasped and murmured against her mouth, “You came here because you wanted to kiss me.”

“Cocky, aren’t you.” Jenna nipped at Gard’s lip, hard enough to make her wince. She tugged Gard’s shirt out of her pants and ran her nails over Gard’s stomach, just above the waistband of her pants.

Gard flinched, her breath coming fast. “And you like to tease, don’t you?”

Jenna’s mouth curved, luscious and ripe. “You have no idea.” She circled Gard’s navel with her fingertips, then pressed her palm hard against the tight muscles. “I want to make you work for your reward.”

Gard jerked Jenna closer and pushed her thigh between Jenna’s legs. Jenna’s small gasp of surprise made her clit twitch. “I want to make you beg for yours.”

“Never happen.”

“Oh yeah?” Gard scraped her teeth along the underside of Jenna’s jaw, then sucked lightly at the delicate skin in the hollow at the base of her throat.

“You’re slick but hardly irresistible.” Jenna shivered and knew from Gard’s satisfied chuckle her body had betrayed her. She couldn’t resist, didn’t even want to try. She threaded her fingers through Gard’s thick dark hair and forced Gard’s mouth harder against her throat. Gard sucked until her skin burned and she wanted Gard inside her right then, right there. She wanted it so much, she was about to fly apart into a thousand pieces. If she did, she’d never be able to glue the bits of herself back together again. She’d never be able to find the safe solid place where she controlled all her feelings.

“Oh God, wait,” Jenna whispered.

Gard stilled instantly, her open mouth pressed to the soft skin high between Jenna’s breasts. She trembled and Jenna stroked her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Jenna said. “You get me so excited. Just…just let me settle a minute.”

“Why?” Gard skated her good hand up Jenna’s side and cradled her breast. Jenna’s head fell back.

“Because I think you could make me come just from kissing me.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Jenna laughed shakily. “God, you’re arrogant.”

“If I had two good arms I’d pick you up right now, take you to bed, and shut you up.”

“Would you?” Jenna pushed her hand up under Gard’s shirt, found the small, firm mound of her breast, and squeezed the tight nipple. Gard jerked, groaning deep in her chest, and the sound vibrated against Jenna’s palm. “Would you really?”

“We need to take this out of the kitchen.”

“Not tonight.” Jenna brushed Gard’s nipple lightly and trailed her fingertips down the center of Gard’s belly and out from beneath her shirt. “When we make love, I don’t want to think about anything except how hard you’re making me come. I’m not going to be able to do that until your arm is better.”

“I’m not going to wait that long.” Gard eased away but kept her hand on Jenna’s hip. “I know you don’t want me to.”

“You have no idea what I want you to do.” Jenna took a breath. Steadied herself. Got control. “Are we still on for five?”

“Do women always do what you want?”

“I never ask for anything they’re not willing to give.”

“Is that the deal?”

Jenna nodded. “Clean and simple.”

“No strings.”

“No strings.”

Gard’s gaze bored into Jenna’s, the gray shimmering to midnight. “Five it is.”

Chapter Eighteen

When Jenna got home, she wasn’t in the mood to recap the evening, but Alice was sitting on the front porch in the semidark, barefoot in striped boxers and a short-sleeved white T-shirt. Even though the table lamp in the parlor behind her threw a crescent of pale yellow light onto the porch, Alice was mostly in shadow. Each time she rocked forward into the moonlight her face appeared, ghostly and beautiful.

Jenna dropped into a rocker next to her and plucked at the bottom of the boxers. “Going native?”

“Ha ha.” Alice rocked slowly and rattled the ice cubes in the rock glass she cradled in her right hand. “It’s so quiet here. Sometimes I think it’s wonderful, and the rest of the time terrifying. I’m not used to being so alone with myself.”

“I know what you mean. It’s easy to feel lost, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think I could be happy here for very long.”

“Not enough happening?” Jenna had spent the first seventeen years of her life desperate to escape a place very much like this, on the surface at least. She’d been convinced if she could make her way to the city, opportunity would abound and anonymity would be her protection. Now she knew that safety wasn’t a place, or even a person, but a state of mind. She’d carved her safety out of nothing, and guarded it with all her will.

“I don’t miss the action,” Alice said, “at least not the way you think. Oh sure, I miss the easy access to the theater and good restaurants and first-run shopping. But it’s more personal than that. I’d slow down too much if I didn’t have all the competition around, pushing me just a little harder, just a little faster.” She laughed. “Maybe I’m not as much of a self-starter as I thought.”

“Afraid you might lose your edge?”

“Exactly. I guess my energy tends to synchronize with my environment.” She rocked a little faster. “Isn’t there a name for that?”

“Yes, a very big one, and I don’t think you’d really like the analogy.” Jenna laughed. “You know—the cold-blooded creatures that stop moving below a certain temperature?”

“Are you calling me a snake?”

“Absolutely not. And I do know what you mean.”

“But it’s not that way for you, is it?”

Jenna hesitated, thinking over her day. “I can write anywhere. As for the rest of it—I haven’t made up my mind. I feel like I’ve lost a layer of skin up here, as if I’m closer to the air and the earth and—well, everything. And I’m not really sure I want to be.”

“You mean you feel vulnerable.”

Just the word made Jenna anxious. “Maybe.”

“I take it you went over to Gard’s tonight.” Alice drained her glass and set it on the floor next to the rocker. “How is she?”

“I think her injury is a little worse than she wants to let on, but she’ll be all right.”

“I was wondering if you’d be back tonight.”

“I almost wasn’t. If she hadn’t been hurt, I might’ve stayed.”

“Moving a little fast, aren’t you?”

“Hardly.” Jenna didn’t share every detail of her private life with Alice, but Alice knew her pattern. She most often slept with women she’d met at an industry meeting or business event. After an evening of conversation, enough to establish the unspoken agreement that one night was all she was available for, she’d have an enjoyable few hours of physical satisfaction. She hadn’t been with a woman she’d spent more than a superficial hour or two getting to know in months. Now that she thought about it, in years. Without consciously deciding, she’d limited her personal interactions to the wholly impersonal.

“She’s not your usual type,” Alice said.

“I don’t know about that. She’s intelligent, good-looking, sexy as sin.”

“Uh-huh. No argument there.” Alice propped her bare feet up on the railing. Her legs were smooth and sleek, a fine ridge of muscle etched along the length of her thigh. “But that’s not what does it for you with her, is it? She’s under your skin. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone able to do that before.”

Alice was right. Gard was under her skin. Suddenly restless, Jenna strode to the edge of the porch and wrapped her arm around a column, trying to see through the dense night beyond the faint circle of light. Everything she’d said to Alice was true. Gard was interesting, bright, good-looking, sexy. But that wasn’t it. That wasn’t what made Gard so hard to get out of her mind. What was it that made Gard so different? Not just one thing—big things and little things. The way Gard had caught her when she’d fallen that very first night—so steady and sure, her insistence on taking her home and caring for her when she had no reason to care at all, asking—really asking—about her work. Gard made her feel special. And the way she touched her—God, the way she touched her. Jenna closed her eyes. Her lips tingled with the memory of Gard’s mouth traveling over her throat, pressed between her breasts. Her nipples tightened and her clitoris ached. And underneath the arousal, she yearned for the connection she had been so certain she didn’t need.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“Serious, isn’t it,” Alice murmured.

“No. No, no it isn’t.” Jenna felt panicked in a way she hadn’t since she’d run away from home. Her life wasn’t out of control, she wouldn’t let it be. She wasn’t falling in love with Gard Davis. She wouldn’t let herself. They’d already discussed it, they’d already agreed. A few weeks. Neat and simple and no strings.

Gard couldn’t sleep. Her arm throbbed, but the pain wasn’t keeping her awake. After Jenna left, she’d rattled around the house for a while, walked down to the barn and checked on her animals, and ended up sitting astride a pasture fence listening to the night. The cool air helped dampen some of the fire from kissing Jenna, but nothing could douse the simmering coals deep inside. Back at the house, she lay naked on top of the sheets, staring at the ceiling or out the window at the waning moon, trying to figure out what was happening to her. When she’d been young, she’d desperately longed for a woman and thought her craving was love. Looking back, she recognized it as loneliness. The wealth and privilege she’d grown up with had been poor substitutes for intimacy, and she’d never quite fit in with her father and her brothers, and never known why.

Then Susannah had blown into her life with the force of a hurricane, whipping through the empty rooms of her heart and blinding her to what really lay between them. Had she known the devastation that was coming, she doubted she could have walked away. The elation of having Susannah, of believing they shared desire, passion, need—the exhilaration was too addicting. The union she’d thought they’d had was everything she’d ever wanted. But what she’d thought was love proved to be only her own need, and she’d been left battered and bitterly alone. Abandoned at heart, renounced by her family and peers, she’d turned her back on wealth and status and empty dreams. She’d rebuilt a life where the storms of passion would not seduce her. And she’d been, if not happy, satisfied. Until Jenna came along and woke the sleeping dragon. Now she wanted again. God damn it. God damn it.

Close to four she gave up trying to sleep. After a quick shower, she dressed methodically in jeans, a blue cotton shirt, and her work boots. She fed Beam, double-checked her appointment list to be sure she had the necessary equipment in the truck, and drove to the Hardy place. The house was dark when she pulled in front and cut her lights and engine. She sat listening to the engine tick and watched the front door, wondering if Jenna had changed her mind. Wondering if that might not be a good thing.

She wasn’t sure why she’d invited Jenna to come with her, to spend time with her. To be part of her daily life. None of that would really matter when Jenna finally heard the whole story, from Alice or someone else. As much as Jenna said her past didn’t matter, she didn’t believe it. Right now, Jenna was on sabbatical from her life, but she was Cassandra Hart every bit as much as she was Jenna Hardy, and Cassandra Hart did not belong in Little Falls, Vermont. Cassandra Hart did not belong with her.

Gard draped her arms over the steering wheel and watched the sun rise.

“Sorry. Did I keep you waiting?” Jenna said through the open passenger side window.

“No problem. I’m early. I didn’t see you come out.”

“I was down at the barn. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Must be contagious.”

“Do you still want me to come with you?”

Just at that moment the first ray of sunshine struck the yard, painting Jenna in a swath of gold. The red highlights in her hair shimmered like flame and the sky reflected in her eyes. Framed in the truck window, she might have been an image painted by an Old Master. Gard stretched across the seat, popped the handle on the door, and pushed it open with her fingertips. “Climb in. We’re going to have a busy morning.”

Jenna smiled and eclipsed the sun.

“You look great,” Gard said. “Gorgeous.”

“You’ll need to refrain from any compliments if you expect me to pay attention to work this morning,” Jenna said quietly as she got in and closed the door. “I’m serious about this research, you know.”

Gard turned the ignition key. “I know.”

Jenna slid over to the edge of the seat, wrapped her hand around Gard’s arm, and kissed the corner of her mouth. “But I had to do that first. You look pretty good yourself.”

“You ready to go to work now that we’ve taken care of the important business?” Gard said it teasingly but her heart was racing like a rabbit with a fox hard on its trail.

“Taken care of it?” Jenna laughed and settled back into her seat. “Oh, I don’t think so. Not by a long shot.”

Five hours later, Jenna climbed into the truck and moaned. “Oh my God. How far did we just walk? Ten miles?”

Grinning, Gard backed down the narrow path between the pasture fences on Warren Jones’s back ninety. “I told you to sit this one out. You didn’t need to go all the way up the hill with me.”

“I wanted to see the baby lambs.” Jenna peered down at her sneakers. What was left of her sneakers. “I need new shoes.”

“If you’re going to do any more of this kind of activity, you do.” Gard waved to Warren’s wife and kids, who were clustered on the porch, all waving vigorously.

“I’d forgotten how everyone waves,” Jenna murmured.

Gard pulled out onto the road and headed away from Little Falls toward Route 7 West into New York. “You grew up a country girl, didn’t you? It doesn’t show any longer.”

Jenna stiffened. “No, I don’t imagine it would.”

“Cassandra Hart didn’t grow up in the country, though, did she?”

“Cassandra Hart is me.”

Gard nodded. “What about Jenna Hardy? Is she you too?”

Jenna smiled wryly. “You do realize that anyone listening to this conversation would think we were crazy.”

“Probably.”

“Where are we going?”

“I thought I’d take you someplace other than Oscar’s for lunch.”

“Oh no, I can’t go to lunch. Look at me.”

“Not while I’m driving.”

“You know what I’m talking about. I’ve got dirt and…other things, all over me. I can’t—”

“You look beautiful.” Gard reached between the seats and grasped Jenna’s hand. “We aren’t going anywhere that you need to be dressed up. You look fine.”

“What about your work?”

“What about yours?” Gard shrugged. “We need to eat, right? I’m not due in the clinic until late this afternoon. And you’re trying to change the subject.”

Jenna cradled Gard’s hand in both of hers, tracing the nicks and scrapes on the back of her knuckles. She wanted to kiss each tiny cut. She wanted to kiss her, had wanted to for hours. “Your work is harder than I imagined. How is your arm?”

“Stiff. No problem, though.”

“Good.” When Gard moved her hand to the stick shift, Jenna held onto Gard’s wrist, liking the way the tendons tightened and the muscles flexed and relaxed when Gard shifted. She’d never taken such pleasure in another woman’s body before. They weren’t doing anything remotely sexual and she was becoming so aroused she was having trouble concentrating on the conversation. That was dangerous. Gard had a way of getting her to talk about things, admit things, she didn’t want to reveal. She released Gard’s arm as if that would break some deeper hold, and Gard somehow plucked her hand out of the air without ever looking away from the road. She let Gard lace their fingers together. Her stomach trembled at Gard’s silent refusal to let her go, at the way they effortlessly connected. Oh God. She was in terrible trouble.

“What are you trying to forget?” Gard asked softly.

“I thought we agreed neat and simple. Let’s not go there, all right?”

A muscle jumped at the edge of Gard’s jaw. She finally looked away from the road, her dark eyes searching Jenna’s face. “Did someone hurt you?”

The force of Gard’s question, the anger that leapt into her eyes, made Jenna’s heart stutter. For one insane instant, she wanted to tell her everything. As if somehow Gard could change it all. Take away the hurt and the fear and the disappointment. But that was foolish. No one could do that for her. She knew that. What was it she wanted, then? Just for another person to know? No. Not any person. This person. Gard.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Jenna said, nearly breathless. “It was a long time ago. You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Gard drew Jenna’s hand onto her thigh, anchoring Jenna to her. “Didn’t mean to push you.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Jenna pressed her fingertips into Gard’s leg. She was so solid. So strong. The knot that had formed in her stomach when she’d thought of Lancaster and Darlene melted away. “I had a great time this morning. Thank you.”

“Even when you stepped in the cow shit?”

“Maybe not then so much. But I loved watching you work.”

Gard laughed.

“No, really. I mean it. It’s obvious you’re good at what you do, and the farmers trust you. That must mean a lot to you.”

Gard’s shoulders tightened. “What do you mean?”

“I just meant it’s got to feel good when people appreciate what you’re doing.”

“Is that what you meant.” Gard let go of Jenna’s hand and gripped the wheel, the skin over her knuckles tightening until the scratches stood out like angry red welts.

“I don’t know what you think I was getting at, but you’re wrong,” Jenna said softly. Something had hurt Gard, and she hated not knowing what it was. She’d just told Gard they should leave the past out of their relationship, but she’d only meant they should leave her own past in the dark. She wanted to know everything about Gard. About where she grew up. About what she dreamed. About who had hurt her and why. She wanted to erase the angry pain that poured from her in waves, filling the truck’s cab with past sorrows. Cautiously, the way she’d seen Gard gentle a frightened horse just that morning, she rested her fingertips on Gard’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Gard’s voice was so tight it sounded like a branch cracking under the weight of winter ice.

“I’m sorry for whatever hurt you. And for reminding you of it.”

Gard exhaled in a rush. “My history is not your problem.”

“Fair enough.” Jenna rubbed Gard’s shoulder, then leaned closer so she could massage the back of her neck. The muscles quivered beneath her fingers. “Do you think we could stop—”

“You want to cancel lunch?”

Jenna spread her fingers through Gard’s hair, then tugged a little. “No. I want to buy a new pair of shoes. I’m not eating when my feet are this muddy.”

Gard glanced at her, her lips pressed down on a smile that finally erupted as she laughed. “Shoes. Where are we going to get you shoes out here?”

“I’m sure there must be somewhere people buy shoes.”

“There is. Hold on.” Gard put her blinker on and swerved into a gravel parking lot in front of a long metal-sided building that looked like a gas station on steroids. A big white sign with green letters announced Agway.

“Oh no,” Jenna said. “I’m not buying farmer boots.”

“They’ll be better for you the next time you’re out on a call with me.”

The next time. Would there be a next time? She hoped so. She looked at Gard and, foolish as it was, hoped for a lot more than that.

Chapter Nineteen

“Don’t look,” Jenna said, crouching with her back to the truck in the rear corner of the Agway parking lot, the passenger side door open to block her from view of anyone driving in. “Am I clear?”

Gard swiveled behind the wheel and checked out the back to make sure no one was watching them. “You’re good to go.”

Jenna unzipped her pants. “I can feel you looking.”

“I have my eyes closed, but the cows up on the hill probably have a terrific view.”

“Liar. Get my new jeans out of that bag and hand them to me, would you?”

Gard rustled through the shopping bags on the floor, pulled out the new Levi’s, and quickly removed the labels. “Here you go.”

Jenna half turned and her eyes met Gard’s. “I knew you were looking.”

“You’ve got a really cute ass.” Gard’s throat went dry as Jenna’s smile flickered between amused and inviting. She did have a great ass, round and tight and just the right shape to fit into her hands. She remembered cradling Jenna’s butt while they were kissing in the kitchen and imagined Jenna naked on top of her, smooth muscles flexing under her fingers, hot slick skin sliding over hers. “Put your pants on.”

“That’s not what you were thinking.”

Jenna’s eyes had gotten hazy and her lips seemed to swell, as if readying for Gard’s mouth. Gard twitched as if someone had poked her with a cattle prod. When she groaned softly, Jenna laughed a satisfied laugh.

“Cut it out,” Gard said through gritted teeth.

“Or what?” Jenna stepped into the pants and took her time pulling them up, her brazen expression daring Gard to look, to touch, to take.

“If you don’t cut it out, you’re going to get a lot more than a new set of clothes at the Agway.”

“Is that right?” Jenna laughed and hopped up onto the seat, her feet clad only in her socks, and dug around in the bags. She came out with the new boots. “And what would that be, exactly?”

While Jenna was busy with the laces on the new shitkickers, Gard took advantage of her distraction and slipped an arm behind her shoulders. She leaned over the gearshift and kissed Jenna on the neck.

Jenna jumped. “Gard!”

Gard caught Jenna’s head with a hand on her neck and took her mouth in a hard kiss. Jenna’s lips parted, warm and welcoming, and Gard deepened the kiss. Then Jenna’s fingers were in her hair and Jenna’s breasts were pressed to her chest and their tongues were searching, delving, demanding. Jenna hadn’t zipped her jeans and when Gard reached around her to hold her more tightly, her fingers grazed bare skin and the top of silk panties and Jenna jerked away.

“We’ll get arrested,” Jenna gasped, her pupils huge and deep as night. “One more second of kissing you like that and I’m going to have to have you inside me.”

Gard’s chest exploded as if she’d been shot. “Jesus Christ, Jenna.”

“Don’t tell me you can’t tell.”

“I can’t even think when all my blood and half my brains are headed between my legs.” Gard heaved herself back into her seat and scanned out the window. No one around. She rubbed both hands over her face. Her mind was mush and all she wanted was to touch her again—good sense, consequences, and lookie-loos be damned. “You’re making me nuts.”

“Stay over there while I put these damn boots on.” Jenna jammed her feet into the ankle-high work boots, quickly laced them up, and jumped out of the truck. She pushed the tails of her pale yellow cotton shirt into her jeans, zipped and buttoned them. “Safe now.”

Gard rolled her head on the seat and studied her. Her cheeks and neck were flushed, her eyes bright, her lips swollen. She let her gaze drop lower. The faint outline of Jenna’s nipples, hard and round, pressed outward beneath her shirt. Jenna’s breathing grew faster the longer Gard looked. “You’re a long way from safe. You like teasing me, don’t you?”

Jenna rested her arms on the roof of the truck cab and leaned in, her crotch riding against the seat, her breasts pushing forward. She rocked her hips back and forth. “I haven’t even started to tease you yet.”

“Get in the truck.”

“In a hurry for lunch?”

“If you keep it up, we’re gonna have to get takeout.” Gard gripped the steering wheel in both hands. “There’s no way I can sit across from you in a restaurant without everybody knowing exactly what I’m thinking. And what I’m thinking is private.”

“Is that right.” Jenna got in, closed the door, and put her hand on Gard’s thigh. She dragged her nails along the seam inside Gard’s thigh, up and down, up and down, until Gard’s hips lifted off the seat. “Then let’s have a picnic.”

“Where are we exactly?” Jenna peered out at the small turnaround where Gard parked. The road ended in a rutted trail narrowed by creeping undergrowth at the base of a mountainside thick with evergreens.

“Right on the Vermont–New York border.” Gard cut the engine and came around to Jenna’s door. “Go ahead and pass me the food. There’s a blanket behind your seat too.”

Jenna handed out two bags filled with sandwiches, takeout containers of coleslaw and rice pudding, a nice bottle of white wine, and a faded olive-green blanket. They’d stopped at a little place in a strip mall incongruously called the Epicurean Café, and it had lived up to its name. According to the newspaper reviews tacked up inside, the owner, a well-known French chef, had wanted out of the rat race of competitive big-city restaurants and had retired to the countryside, where he still cooked as if he were in a five-star establishment.

“I don’t see any tables.” Jenna made a three-sixty. Nothing but more trees.

“This way.” Gard held out her hand and Jenna took it as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to do. The calluses on Gard’s palm rubbed lightly against hers, and the little bit of friction was as exciting as a kiss. She wasn’t certain how she was going to get through a picnic when she couldn’t think of anything except Gard touching her, caressing her, filling her.

“Jenna,” Gard said in a dangerous tone.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Gard led her to a second trail that hadn’t been immediately visible—a rocky, pine-needle-covered path just wide enough for two people to walk abreast. Almost immediately they started to climb, and she was happy for the purchase of her new boots. Sneakers would not have been sturdy enough. “How can you tell the second I get turned on?”

“Your mouth gets soft,” Gard murmured. “Your lips darken a shade and you swallow a little bit, as if waiting for me to slip inside.”

Jenna caught her breath. “You can’t know what you do to me.”

“Oh, I know.” Gard’s voice was rough, frustrated. “Because you do the same to me. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“Good. I hate to suffer alone.”

Gard laughed. “You have nothing to worry about, then.”

After ten minutes of vigorous uphill hiking, the trail dwindled into a twisting, brush-encroached path. Jenna was about to ask if Gard really knew where she was going when all of a sudden the forest opened up into a small grassy clearing on the edge of the mountain. The deep green carpet of grass was dotted with granite boulders that resembled blocks tossed down by a bored child. Below them stretched a valley completely untouched by human habitation. Mist swirled from its depths and floated on the air like the breath of lovers on a cool fall night.

“God, it’s so beautiful.” Jenna glanced at Gard who was looking at her, her eyes dark storm clouds. “What?”

“It’s all I can do to keep my hands off you.”

“Then let’s distract you for a while.”

“Why?” Gard’s voice was gravelly, her mouth a tight line.

Jenna smiled. “Because I like waiting. I like feeling you want me.”

“Jesus.”

“Come on.” Jenna spread out the blanket and stretched out on her side, propping her head up in the palm of her hand. “Bring the food down here.”

Gard knelt and put the bags next to the blanket. She found the corkscrew and opened the wine. Handing Jenna the package of plastic cups, she said, “Would you?”

Jenna got out two and held them while Gard poured the white Burgundy. They toasted each other and drank. Jenna loved the way Gard’s eyes never left her face. When she skimmed the tip of her tongue over her lips, catching the last drops of wine, Gard’s gaze followed. Jenna leaned forward and kissed her, but drew away before Gard could hold her in place.

“Sandwiches?”

Gard stared at her for long seconds and Jenna wondered if Gard’s tight reins were finally going to snap. She thrilled at making her lose control. She was still in control, and that was good. Essential.

Gard removed the wax paper from one of the sandwiches and spread it out between them. She picked up half and held it out to Jenna. “Bite.”

Jenna wet her lips again, watching Gard’s eyes narrow dangerously, and, getting to her knees, took a corner of the sandwich into her mouth. She slowly bit down and tugged off a small section. She chewed, murmured her approval. Took another bite. After she swallowed, she said, “Now you.”

Gard ate a little and brushed the back of her hand over her mouth. Her fingers trembled and Jenna throbbed.

“Coleslaw?” Jenna asked. Her voice was husky.

Grinning, Gard found the container and took the top off. She set it down, hunted some more, and came up with a plastic fork. She dug into the slaw and held out the fork. “Open.”

Jenna stuck out her tongue and laughed when a strand of cabbage dropped into her lap. She licked the tart sauce off her lip, took the plastic container, and fed some to Gard.

They took turns feeding each other. When they were done, Jenna grabbed Gard’s wrist and slowly licked her fingers, one after the other, twirling her tongue around the tips, sucking lightly. By the time she got to Gard’s thumb and rolled her tongue over the pad, Gard’s jaw was so tight it looked as if it might shatter.

“More wine?” Jenna asked.

“I’m good. I’m driving.”

Jenna bit lightly and when Gard grunted—her expression flickering between intense arousal and something close to pain—Jenna got terribly wet. She was losing control of her own game and quickly drew back, willing her body to calm.

“Maybe we should get back,” Jenna said. “Your office—”

“I called while you were trying on clothes,” Gard said. “I didn’t have anything critical. My vet tech is handling things.”

“So you’re free.”

Gard nodded. “Completely.”

Jenna edged closer on the blanket until her knees touched Gard’s and draped her arms over Gard’s shoulders. She kissed her, light and quick. Her breasts brushed against Gard’s and she tightened everywhere. “How likely are we to be disturbed?”

“This time of day, middle of the week? Way out here? Not likely.” Gard caressed Jenna’s sides, her thumbs brushing along the outer edges of Jenna’s breasts.

“Getting naked is probably not a good idea, though.”

Gard smiled. “Not recommended.”

“We should probably go, then. Because I want you to get me naked.”

“Is that right?” Gard slid her hand around Jenna’s nape and clasped her firmly, drawing her closer until their mouths met. She kissed her as if she were still hungry, exploring the inside of her mouth with long, probing strokes, cradling Jenna’s breast in her other hand, her thumb sliding back and forth over her nipple.

Jenna’s thighs softened and she leaned into Gard, not caring any longer who led and who followed. All she wanted was more. More of Gard touching her, kissing her, setting her on fire. She moaned and caressed Gard’s shoulders through her shirt, and it wasn’t enough. She yanked up on the shirt and drove a hand underneath, finding her skin, massaging the hard muscles of her back. Gard held her captive with one hand gripping her neck, the other roaming over her body, squeezing her ass, caressing her breasts, stroking her stomach. Still she needed more. She needed to be naked. She needed Gard everywhere, over her and inside her.

Jenna pulled back, gasping. “Oh God. Bad idea. Bad idea.”

“Oh no. Very good idea. Amazing.” Gard slid her mouth down Jenna’s throat and licked the moisture that had pooled in the hollow. She expected salt but got clear cool water. She raised her head and felt raindrops on her face. The sun shone brightly overhead as a summer shower descended on them. “We’re going to get drenched.”

Laughing, Jenna fisted her hands in Gard’s hair. “I don’t care.”

Gard kissed her again, the heat of Jenna’s mouth a searing counterpoint to the rain soaking her. She teased Jenna’s damp shirt free of her jeans, dancing her fingertips over the slick, smooth skin of her lower back. Jenna’s hands roamed under her shirt. Nails etched lines of fire over her skin, teeth nibbled at her lip. She blinked water from her eyes and focused on the blue sky between the mountaintops. “Jenna. Look.”

“Oh God, don’t stop kissing me,” Jenna moaned.

“Wait.” Taking Jenna’s shoulders in both hands, Gard turned her on the blanket until Jenna’s back was against her chest. A huge double rainbow arched over the mountains, sparkling in crystal hues. Jenna’s head fell back against her shoulder, her hands restless on Gard’s thighs.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” Gard held Jenna close with one arm wrapped around her middle and opened the top buttons of Jenna’s shirt. She slipped her hand inside and cradled Jenna’s breast beneath the flimsy, damp material of her bra. Jenna’s nipple was a hard stone against her palm. She squeezed lightly and Jenna rolled her head on her shoulder, whimpering softly. She put her mouth against Jenna’s ear. “You like that.”

“Oh yes, yes.”

Gard fondled Jenna’s breasts beneath her blouse and popped the button on her jeans. “Watch the rainbow, Jenna.”

Jenna gripped her wrist weakly. “If you touch me, I’m afraid I’ll—”

“Shh, I know.” Gard skimmed her fingertips beneath smooth silk, caressing the satiny flesh between Jenna’s legs. Jenna’s clitoris was so hard she’d come very quickly, and Gard had never wanted anything more. She swirled her fingertips over the firm prominence and Jenna trembled in her arms. She kissed Jenna’s temple and sheltered her from the downpour in the curve of her body, afraid to break the spell that held them suspended in the arch of color flaming above them.

Trembling, Jenna pressed her mouth to Gard’s throat. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Let me.” Gard’s chest was so tight she couldn’t get enough air. Her head spun but she struggled to go slow, wanting to please Jenna more than she wanted her next breath. She dipped lower, slipped inside, cradled Jenna in her palm as she cradled her against her body. Jenna tightened around her. “You’re so close, baby. Let me.”

“Yes.” Jenna whimpered, her lip between her teeth, her lids almost closed. Her voice thinned to a whisper. “Please. You feel so good. I have to.”

Gard kissed her softly, filling her mouth, filling her body, holding her gently and stroking her over and over and over until the rainbow shattered with her cries.

Chapter Twenty

Jenna was torn between opening her eyes, needing to see Gard’s face, and never opening her eyes again, wanting to drift forever in the incredible haven of Gard’s arms. Still cradled against Gard’s chest, she couldn’t move, but she felt wonderful. Intensely satisfied. Incredibly pleasured. Inexplicably cherished. Terrifyingly vulnerable. She’d always considered an orgasm just an orgasm—never bad, always enjoyable—and she’d just experienced the most fabulous one of her life. But the amazing climax wasn’t what had shattered her into a million pieces. No. That was Gard. All Gard. The way she touched her, held her, knew her. Knew what she needed, what she wanted, what she longed for even when she had refused to admit it. Gard made her feel treasured, and realizing just how much that mattered scared her down to her toes.

“Are you all right?” Gard’s breath was a warm wind teasing over her neck.

“Anything I say is going to sound ridiculous.” Jenna forced her eyes open, willing her spaghetti-limp arms and legs into action. Bracing her hands on Gard’s thighs, she pushed herself upright and swiveled to face her. Oh God. Her heart couldn’t take much more. Gard’s hair lay in dark wet strands over her forehead and clung to her neck in curling tendrils. Rain ran in rivulets over her cheeks and dripped from the edge of her jaw. Her lips were parted, her breath coming fast, her eyes wild as the midnight hunt. Jenna framed her face, brushing away the clear crystal drops clinging to her lashes with her thumbs. “You’re so beautiful my heart hurts.”

Gard clasped Jenna’s waist. Her throat rippled but no sound came out. Naked need rode hard in her eyes.

“Oh,” Jenna whispered, kissing her softly. “No more teasing. I want to take care of you, gorgeous. Right now.” She kissed her again and fumbled for the button on Gard’s fly, her fingers still clumsy in the aftermath of her off-the-Richter-scale orgasm.

“We can wait,” Gard said hoarsely. “I’m—”

“Oh, don’t even try that line on me.” Jenna caressed Gard’s cheek. “I can’t tell you how much I want you—you probably wouldn’t believe me. But I can show you, and I know you need it.”

Jenna got Gard’s fly open, worked her hand inside, and clasped her gently, one fingertip gliding firmly down over her clitoris and almost into her. Gard stiffened and her eyes rolled before she seemed to focus on Jenna’s face.

“Jenna, I—” She choked, her hips jerking when Jenna squeezed slowly.

“The next time,” Jenna nipped Gard’s lip and pushed a little deeper, “I’m going to make you wait for a long, long time. But not today. You can’t wait today, can you?”

Jenna stroked and Gard shuddered, gripping Jenna’s shoulders, fingers digging in as if she were trying to hold herself up.

“Oh no, you can’t wait,” Jenna whispered, enthralled by the sight of Gard slowly coming apart right in front of her. She teased her a little, then stroked harder, fingers gliding out and then dipping back inside, each pass making her clitoris jump. “You’re going to come all over me in about two seconds, aren’t you?”

Gard panted, her hands opening and closing convulsively. “Jen… You’ll make me… Oh fu—”

Jenna kissed her, filled her, massaged her in her palm until her clitoris grew impossibly hard, pulsed rapidly, and exploded. Gard jerked and tried to pull away but Jenna held her fast with a fist in her hair, kissing her as Gard groaned into her mouth. When Gard finally sagged forward, Jenna clasped her tightly, one arm around her shoulders, her fingers still inside her. She kissed her damp forehead, her eyelids, her mouth. Gard—normally so contained, so defended—looked so exposed Jenna would have killed to protect her at that moment. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Gard pressed her forehead to Jenna’s shoulder, her breath coming hard. She contracted around Jenna’s fingers and, with a helpless whine, pushed down hard into Jenna’s hand. “Oh, no… Jenna, God…”

“Oh yes, sweetheart.” Jenna watched, rapt, as the pleasure rained down Gard’s face. “Yes.”

Gard struggled to keep her eyes open, Jenna’s fierce expression making her come even harder. She came so fast and so hard it was almost painful. Almost. When the climax finally relented, she was lying on her side, her head pillowed between Jenna’s breasts. She didn’t remember falling or being caught. Totally wasted, stunned by how easily Jenna had taken her, she rubbed her cheek against the soft skin exposed by Jenna’s open blouse. She wanted to laugh and cry and do it again.

“Better?” Jenna whispered.

“Am I still alive?”

Jenna played her fingers through Gard’s hair. “I certainly hope so. That was just an appetizer.”

Gard chuckled and kissed Jenna’s throat. “I’m not sure whether that’s a threat or a promise.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we.”

Jenna sounded pensive, a little distant. Gard tensed, wondering if what she heard was regret. “I’m sorry I was a little quick off the mark. I’m not usually—”

“Oh, shut up,” Jenna said lightly. “You ought to know how sexy it is to get a woman so excited she comes the second you touch her. Considering that’s what you did to me.”

“That’s different.”

Jenna tugged on Gard’s hair, forcing her to tilt her head back until their eyes met. “Don’t even think of going there with me. I like to be in charge in bed—which means everything goes both ways.”

“In charge, huh?” Gard grinned. “Those sound like fighting words.”

“You can always try.”

Gard kissed her. The flirtatious note in Jenna’s voice didn’t bother her. After the intensity of what they’d just shared, she understood needing to back off a little. Hell, part of her wanted to run for the hills. What bothered her was the worry Jenna was trying, and failing, to hide. “Challenge accepted. In fact—”

A sharp ring fractured the steamy stillness of the glade and they both jerked. When the sound came again, Gard grabbed the phone off her belt, sat up, and stared at the readout.

“Damn it. Sorry. It’s Rob—my tech. He wouldn’t call me unless—”

“It’s okay.” Jenna stood and arranged her clothes, her expression suddenly remote. “We ought to be getting back anyhow.”

“Hello? Hold on for a second, Rob.” Gard grasped Jenna’s hand. “Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not.”

Jenna hurriedly gathered up the remains of the picnic, rushing as if she couldn’t wait to leave. Gard knelt on the blanket, her shirt out, her pants open, her body and soul even more naked. What the hell had just happened?

Jenna edged over to the far side of her seat as Gard headed down the mountain into Vermont, hating the distance she had put between them every bit as much as she needed it. Up there, in that secret, beautiful, out-of-time place she had ventured far from her safety zone. She hadn’t just lost control, she’d surrendered every protective instinct she’d ever had, physically and emotionally. She had wanted Gard so damn much. She hadn’t been able to feel her enough, couldn’t get her close enough. If she’d had a way to pull Gard inside her skin, she would have done it. She’d never in her life wanted to be that connected to another soul, to be joined. To be one. Now, when some small bit of rationality had returned, she couldn’t absorb wanting her that way, not when all she’d ever wanted, all she’d fought for, was to stand alone and never to be dependent on anyone. Never to rely on someone who might leave her, betray her, use her. She knew somewhere deep inside that Gard was not that kind of person, but knowing and feeling were two different things. Right at this moment she was just plain scared.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Gard said quietly.

“Nothing,” Jenna said quickly. “I’m just a little—” She laughed, hearing the tremor in her voice. “I’m a little done in. You’re pretty powerful, Dr. Davis.”

Gard looked away from the road, giving Jenna a searching glance. “You’re flattering me. Don’t insult me, not after what just happened.”

“You’re wrong about the flattery part. I know what happened up there. How…it was.”

Gard nodded slowly. “Intense.” A grin flashed across her face and quickly disappeared. “Pretty damn amazing.”

She reached across the seat to take Jenna’s hand, but Jenna folded her hands in her lap, pretending not to notice. She couldn’t touch her, not without losing her mind. Maybe losing herself. “I don’t want you to think it was anything less than spectacular for me. You were—you are—wonderful.”

“I hear a but coming.”

“No. No buts.” Jenna struggled to get everything back on solid, safe ground. Back to where they were before. “Not at all. I love being with you. The company is splendid. The sex outstanding. What more could anyone want?”

“Not a thing.”

Gard sounded agreeable, but when Jenna sneaked a look at her out of the corner of her eye, Gard’s hand was clenched on her thigh, the knuckles white, and the edge of her jaw so sharp Jenna could have bled on it.

“Good,” Jenna said, ignoring the stab of guilt and disappointment. Damn it, she was doing this all wrong and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out where she’d gotten so off track. She had to keep going, though, no matter how much of a mess she was making. If she didn’t, they would both end up getting hurt. “Then we’re still on the same page about what this is. Right?”

“Absolutely. After all, we both know how this is going to end. In another couple of weeks, you’ll be back in New York.”

“Yes,” Jenna said softly. “I will.”

Gard turned onto the drive at Jenna’s a little before five in the afternoon. The thirty-mile return trip was a blur. They’d made casual conversation, light and easy and totally meaningless. As if nothing had happened an hour before under the cover of sunshine and rain. Jenna had said all the right things, and probably meant them too. The sex had been great. Hell, a whole lot better than great. Her heart still hadn’t settled after the crazy, mind-blowing orgasm. No wait, two orgasms. That never happened to her. Jenna was right. The sex was spectacular. If she could just get the incredible scent of Jenna off her skin, out of her mind, she might be able to get her head back on straight. And now she was lying to herself.

She wasn’t turned around about great sex. She was turned around about Jenna. The way Jenna opened for her, yielded for her, let herself be touched. Just thinking about it made her head swim and her belly tighten. God damn it. She wanted her again, right now.

“Sorry I had to cut things short,” Gard said. “Katie said Windstorm isn’t looking so good. I need to check him.”

Jenna opened the door but didn’t get out. “Katie. She’s the blonde with the big black stallion. We saw him this morning, right? That testicular torsion?”

“That’s right. I thought he was mending, but she told Rob he’s off his feed now. Chronic pain and anxiety can disrupt the intestinal function and horses can colic. When that happens, they can go quickly. I don’t want to lose him.”

“Of course. I hope he’s going to be all right.” Jenna smiled faintly at Gard. “You do realize she has a thing for you.”

Gard frowned. “A thing. Katie? No, I don’t think so.”

Jenna’s brows rose.

“Okay, maybe a little interest, but it’s nothing serious.”

Jenna climbed out and leaned her forearm against the cab roof, gazing in at Gard. “Nothing serious. Like us, you mean.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Jenna,” Gard said. “There’s nothing casual about what happened up there on that mountainside.”

Jenna sighed. “I know. And I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.”

“Do you want to do field calls with me again tomorrow? I start at five.”

Jenna shook her head. “I don’t think so, thanks. I’ve got a lot of writing to do and with everything I’ve seen today, I’m anxious to get at it. I usually write at least six hours a day, sometimes more. A whole day away and I’m off my schedule.”

“I understand. I’m glad it was helpful.”

“Gard…”

“It’s okay.” Gard tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Saying good-bye felt so final. She had to go—Katie and Windstorm were waiting. But she had a sick feeling that if she drove out of the driveway, she was never going to see Jenna again. “I don’t want to say thanks for today, because that’s not what I mean. But…” Gard took a deep breath. “I want to thank you for what you made me feel. I haven’t felt anything like that in a long time. And I’m not talking about the sex.”

Jenna closed her eyes. “I know. Me too.”

“I’ll see you, then.”

“Yes,” Jenna said.

Gard pulled away, knowing they were both pretending everything was all right. When she looked back, Jenna stood on the porch, watching her go. Leaving her made her want to howl in protest. She wanted to slam the truck around, gun it back there, and take her right where she stood. Driving away hurt so much, she was surprised she wasn’t leaving a trail of blood on the road.

Chapter Twenty-one

Jenna ignored the insistent tapping as long as she dared. Finally she couldn’t pretend she didn’t hear the knocking any longer and swiveled in the desk chair, squinting in the murky half-light cast by her computer screen at Alice, standing in the doorway of her new office. Dressed in casual stone gray pants, a pale blue boatneck sweater, and docksiders, with her hair caught back in a loose ponytail, she looked for all the world like a New England native.

“Hi,” Jenna said. “You look terrific.”

“I discovered the true lifeblood of the economy in these parts.” Alice came in and sat on the end of the sofa facing Jenna. “Outlet malls. I may have lost a little control in J.Crew. Or maybe it was Calvin Klein. I had to buy another suitcase.”

“That look on you works.” She checked the time on her monitor. After midnight. The last time she’d noticed had been shortly before seven. “Been out on a date?”

“Hardly. I did have a serious case of cabin fever, though, and visited Ye Olde Tavern on the other side of town.”

Jenna laughed despite the ache in her heart. “Is it really called that?”

“No. I think it’s called something ingenious, like Joe’s or Charlie’s or Bill’s Beer Joint.”

“God, Alice. You probably shouldn’t be wandering around by yourself out in the wilds.”

Alice snorted and pulled the tie from her hair. When she shook her head to loosen the waves, her breasts swayed beneath the almost-tight cotton sweater. The motion was wholly unconscious and completely sensual. Her full lips, luscious body, and earthy magnetism promised passionate pleasures.

“I’m serious. A woman like you, without an escort? Dangerous.” Jenna smiled, conscious of Alice’s charms and just as aware she didn’t feel the slightest spark. Whatever attraction she’d entertained before… before Gard had evaporated.

“Dangerous? For whom?” Alice grinned. “Really, everyone was completely civilized. I was, however, the only unattached woman there who didn’t seem to be angling for someone to take her home. And I have to tell you, the pickings were slim.”

“Were you the only lesbian?”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Probably within a thousand miles.”

“Well, we know that isn’t true. There’s the lovely sheriff, don’t forget. And I’m here.”

“Yes.” Alice’s expression grew solemn. “And that’s what I’m here about. You’ve been holed up in this office for three days. Have you even been to bed?”

“Yes. Every night.”

“When?”

Jenna looked sideways, wondering how far she could stretch the truth. “I’m getting enough sleep.”

“And that’s avoidance. Which generally means the opposite of what you’re saying.” Alice propped her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin in her hands. “What’s going on?”

Jenna gestured to the computer in self-defense. “You can see what I’m doing. I’m twenty-five thousand words in and about getting to the end of the first act. This is always the hardest part for me, you know that.”

“I know you think it’s always the hardest part. You always lay a perfect foundation for everything that comes later on in the book, you just don’t believe it until you’re done.”

“Well, none of that helps me when I’m in the middle of it.” Jenna probably sounded petulant but she couldn’t help it. She was tired, her nerves were a wreck, and the only time she had any peace was when she was actively working. The second her concentration lapsed and she surfaced from the fictional world she was creating, she hurt all over. She couldn’t stop thinking about the interlude on the mountainside with Gard. How wonderful she’d felt and how hard it was not to see her. Gard hadn’t called and she hadn’t called her. She didn’t blame Gard for staying away. She’d driven her away, knowingly, intentionally. All the same, she hurt.

“What?” Jenna asked, drifting again.

“I said, this sabbatical thing isn’t going to work if all you’re going to do is behave exactly the same way here as you do in the city.” Alice pointed a finger at her. “You can’t work twenty hours a day.”

“Writing is not work for me.”

“Tell that to your body. Remember why you’re here?” Alice’s frown softened. “I think you should come back to Manhattan as soon as you can. What more do you have to do here, anyhow?”

“I haven’t made any real provisions for Elizabeth’s property,” Jenna pointed out. She’d intentionally been stalling and hadn’t contacted the realtor. Elizabeth had been buried in the family plot per her instructions. Also according to her wishes, friends and neighbors had been asked to make a donation to the local farm preservation association in lieu of flowers or a service. All that remained was for Jenna to secure the paintings and put the house on the market. She hadn’t done anything about either, because when she did, she’d have to decide whether to go or stay. And she didn’t want to make the obvious choice. Her life awaited her in New York City. Little Falls was a detour, a pleasant side road, and she had no reason to linger. The pain lodged deep in her breast throbbed.

“I know you’ve got the book on your mind and don’t want to be bothered with details, so I talked to my friend Diane,” Alice said. “She’s the gallery owner I told you about. She’s going to drive up Friday night and look at the paintings Saturday morning. She’ll give us an appraisal and then you can decide if you want to sell them, store them, or donate them to a local museum.”

Friday—the day after tomorrow. By early next week she could have all the arrangements made and be gone. Five or six more days of torturing herself, wanting to call Gard but resisting. Once she was back in New York, her life would be all Cassandra again. She’d be too busy to think about any kind of serious romantic involvement. If she wanted company, she knew how to get it. Another week and all of her problems would be gone, because she would be gone.

“All right, I’ll call the attorney tomorrow and have him set up an appointment for me to meet with a realtor. After the appraisal, I’ll decide about the art, and then I’ll come home.”

Alice nodded briskly. “Good. Whatever’s happening up here is making you unhappy. That’s reason enough to leave.”

Jenna didn’t argue. She saw no point in explaining to Alice that what had happened up here made her happy, and that’s what she didn’t know how to handle.

With a sigh, she turned back to her computer. This was what she knew. This was what she was good at. This was where she and Cassandra became one. Her world righted itself.

Jenna jerked awake, searching the darkened room in confusion. The computer glowed on the desk in front of her, the cursor jumping at the end of the last words she’d typed. The house was silent, the night outside dark. Something had awakened her, perhaps the dream that still flirted at the edges of her consciousness. The simmering tension in her middle told her the fragmented images of a dark-haired woman ghosting through her mind were surely Gard. God, she couldn’t stop thinking of her while awake, and now she was dreaming about her too. She hadn’t been this derailed by a woman since her first crush, when she’d thought herself madly in love the way only a sixteen-year-old could be. She was certain she’d outgrown those tumultuous hormonal upheavals, but apparently not. Her nerves were shattered, she couldn’t eat, and a dull persistent throbbing in her depths hounded her for relief. She hadn’t even tried. No self-induced orgasm was going to give her a tenth of the pleasure as those few insane moments wrapped in Gard’s arms. She wondered if another woman could drive out the memories. Maybe, if she could manage to keep Gard out of her mind. That didn’t seem likely, and the idea of trying, of being with another woman held less than no appeal. Time to stop kidding herself on that score. No one was going to do for her, to her, what Gard had done. No one could touch her that way, down deep, beneath everything.

Rising, she stretched her back and winced at the kinks along her spine from the long hours in the chair. Of course, falling asleep over her keyboard hadn’t helped her sore muscles. She loved working in the sewing room she’d converted into her office, but sleeping in it wasn’t a great idea.

A knock sounded from the direction of the front door and she leaned down to squint at the digital readout on the screen. 3:15 a.m. The knocking must have awakened her. Spinning around, she hurried to the front door. She twitched the lace curtain aside and stared out, able only to see a silhouette backlit by starlight. She didn’t need to turn on the porch light. The shape was unmistakable. Her heart literally fluttered, which she hadn’t thought possible anywhere outside of her novels. She grasped the cut-glass doorknob and pulled open the heavy oak door.

“Gard?”

“There’s something you need to see,” Gard said.

“Is everything all right?” Jenna asked.

“Yes, but we need to hurry.”

Jenna looked down at herself. She’d worked all day in threadbare jeans ripped out at the knees from years of wear and not fashion, a black T-shirt with FLETC stenciled across the chest—a gift from a reader in federal law enforcement, and sneakers without socks. Her writing uniform. She was a mess. “I’m not really dressed—”

“You’re great. You’re always great.”

Ordinarily, she would never rush out into the night without knowing who, where, why, what for…and maybe not even then. But this was Gard. She’d been able to stay away from her when only Gard’s image haunted her every moment—awake or asleep—but she couldn’t turn away from her in the flesh. She grabbed her denim jacket off a peg next to the door and bolted outside.

“Come on.” Gard palmed Jenna’s elbow and hurried her down the stairs and across the yard to her truck. Jenna climbed in while Gard shot around and got behind the wheel. Gard gunned the truck around the circular drive and down the lane.

Jenna didn’t ask where they were going and Gard didn’t volunteer. In another time, another life, she would have questioned her. Tonight, she didn’t care where they were going. She was with Gard and the night, the dark, the uncertain destination did not frighten her.

She breathed easily for the first time in days. Wherever they were headed, she trusted Gard to lead her there.

Jenna estimated they’d driven ten miles in under ten minutes when Gard turned off the paved road onto a bumpy gravel lane only a little bit wider than her truck. Gard was driving fast and Jenna could barely make out cornfields encroaching on either side. She’d forgotten how dark it could be when there were no streetlights. The only illumination came from the hazy swath of the Milky Way and their headlights casting ghostly shadows as the truck bumped along.

They rounded a curve and the silhouettes of a jumble of buildings appeared. Windows on the first floor of a rambling farmhouse were aglow, but no one seemed to be moving inside. Weak yellow light spilled out through the open doors of an enormous three-story barn.

“This is Dan Carmichael’s place,” Gard said.

“What’s happening?” Jenna asked.

“Dan called me forty-five minutes ago. He’s got a mare about to foal. She had trouble the first time and we lost the foal. He wanted me to be here, and I wasn’t sure you’d get another chance to see this.”

“Oh!” Jenna squeezed Gard’s arm. She wasn’t sure what was more exciting—seeing a foal born or just seeing Gard again. It didn’t really matter. She was sharing part of Gard’s life and the night was suddenly perfect. “Thank you.”

Gard stopped the truck in front of the barn. “I would’ve called, but I didn’t have much time and I thought—”

“No. You did exactly right. Exactly.”

“Okay. Good.” Gard nodded briskly. “I won’t be able to talk very much until I see how things are going, and I’ll need you to stay back in case the mare gets twitchy.”

“Whatever you say. You just put me where you want me and I won’t move.”

Gard grinned and pushed open her door. “I’ll remember you told me that.”

“Smart-ass,” Jenna muttered. She caught up to Gard on the way to the barn and was about to take her hand when a man dressed in tan canvas pants and a sweat-stained T-shirt appeared in the open doorway. He had a three-day growth of beard and a thatch of brown hair in need of a trim. He looked to be about forty, big and rough-boned. When he called to them, his voice was surprisingly gentle. “Thanks for getting here so quickly. She’s moving right along. Her water just broke.”

“Stage two,” Gard murmured. “Dan, this is Jenna.”

“Hello. She’s down here.” He turned and led the way into the barn as if it were the most natural thing in the world for a stranger to show up at his place in the middle of the night. Jenna stayed a little bit behind Gard, not wanting to get underfoot. The huge barn held stalls on either side of a wide central passageway. Stacks of hay filled an overhead loft and pieces of tack hung from posts and draped stall doors. Most of the stalls contained horses, who stuck their heads over the doors and whinnied as they passed. Light from a hanging bulb shone at the far end of the building and when they drew near, she saw a tan mare with hugely swollen sides pacing restlessly inside an enclosure. Her flanks were sweat soaked and her nostrils flared with every breath.

“God, she looks so uncomfortable,” Jenna said, feeling a little bit of sympathetic nausea just looking at the laboring mare. “Why doesn’t she lie down?”

“She might when she gets closer to delivering,” Gard said quietly. “Although some horses deliver standing. In the wild, it all happens fast so the mother and baby can keep pace with the herd, where they’re safe.”

“What do you need to do?”

“Nothing right now. The best thing is just to let her do what she was born to do naturally. I’m only the backup.” Gard stripped off her shirt, revealing a tight black T-shirt underneath, and strode to a utility sink opposite the enclosure. After soaking her arms, she lathered up to her elbows with a bar of industrial soap. She shook her arms to get most of the water off and, turning to Jenna, dried off with a cloth she grabbed from a stack on a shelf over the sink. “If she gets into trouble, then we may need to give her a little help.”

Dan leaned against the stall, turning a faded John Deere cap around and around in his big hands. “Last time the foal got backed around and we couldn’t get him out fast enough.”

Jenna moved up next to him and rested her forearms on top of the chest-high gated door. The mare snorted and paced. “Is there any way to tell about this one?”

“We’ll know soon enough. She doesn’t seem to be in any trouble, but I didn’t want to take any chances. That’s why I called Gard.”

Jenna swelled with pride, thinking of the vital role Gard played in the lives of the people in this small town. Gard was important to their livelihood, to their lives. She belonged here.

The mare lay down and almost immediately got up again. She circled around some more. Then she lay down, sides heaving, and she did not get up.

“Here we go.” Gard eased close to Jenna. Faint traces of water still glistened on her skin, and she smelled of soap. She looked steady and strong and confident. She was the most beautiful woman Jenna’d ever seen.

“There’s a foot,” Dan said.

“Good,” Gard said softly. “And there’s foot number two.”

“That’s good, right?” Jenna couldn’t keep quiet. She was too captivated, too thrilled. The night closed in around her, the only sounds the gentle whinnies of the rest of the horses and the grunts of the mare who worked so hard to give life to the creature inside her. They might have been anywhere in the world, at any time—or no time at all. All that mattered was right here in this moment, no past and no future. Just the exquisite beauty of what was happening right before her very eyes. She hadn’t realized she’d grasped Gard’s hand until she felt warm, strong fingers squeeze her own. Gard leaned close.

“It’s okay. See the nose peeking out between the feet? Mama’s doing fine.” Gard rubbed Jenna’s back. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Oh, yes.” Jenna blinked back tears. Just like you.

Chapter Twenty-two

Thirty-five minutes later, the foal staggered to her feet and stood on wobbly legs, wet and scrawny and the most incredible creature Jenna had ever seen. Gard eased into the stall and knelt in the straw next to the baby, slowly and gently examining her. They were both gorgeous—woman and horse—unique and special and breathtaking. Jenna wished she was a photographer or a painter instead of a writer, because she couldn’t think of any words perfect enough to describe the picture. After a few minutes, Gard checked the mother, then turned to Jenna.

“You want to come see her?”

“Is it all right?”

“Mama won’t want us in here for long, but a minute or two should be okay. Just approach slowly and don’t make any sudden noises.”

Jenna tiptoed into the stall and halted next to Gard, a few feet from the foal. The baby, a darker brown than her mother with a white blaze on her chest and white socks on her forelegs, endured a tongue washing from her mother, barely able to stay upright under the maternal onslaught. “When will she nurse?”

“Soon. We’ll stay until she does. Once that happens, we’re home free.”

Just at that moment, the foal stumbled over to Jenna and nudged her hand. Her nose was wet and warm and soft beyond description. Velvet came to mind, but that wasn’t quite right. Even velvet had some texture, but this baby’s nose was far smoother. Jenna caught her breath and stood absolutely still as the inquisitive little being explored her fingertips. Gard slid her arm around Jenna’s waist and squeezed lightly.

“Worth getting up for in the middle of the night?” Gard whispered.

“Oh yes,” Jenna said as they backed out of the stall and the foal, encouraged with a few nudges from her mother, finally found the appropriate target and began to nurse.

Jenna caught a hint of sweet hay and soap, the scents she associated with Gard, and knew the odors would forever be associated with this woman and this exquisite, perfect moment. She leaned her head against Gard’s shoulder. “Worth getting up for every night.”

Gard chuckled and stroked her hair. “You say that now. After fifty or so, you might change your mind. About eighty percent of the births occur in the middle of the night.”

“Have you gotten used to it?” Jenna already knew the answer—it was written in the soft, peaceful contours of Gard’s face and the slow easy timbre of her voice. She was at home here. Content. Jenna had never strived for contentment, never even thought she wanted it. Success yes, satisfaction in her work. Yes. Satisfaction in bed now and then. Sure. But contentment? That peace of the heart that comes only from being exactly where you belong, doing exactly what you were meant to do, living the life that completely suited you—no. She hadn’t wanted that. Until now.

Dan cleared his throat beside them. “I guess I dragged you out here for nothing, Gard. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Gard said. “I wish every call ended this way. Glad to do it.”

“Besides,” Jenna added. “This is my first time.”

Dan laughed and tugged his John Deere cap down over his unruly hair. “It never gets old.”

“No,” she said softly. “I don’t suppose it does. What are you going to name her?”

Dan looked puzzled. “Hadn’t thought on it.”

“Jenna’s a writer,” Gard called from the sink where she had gone to wash up. “She might have an idea.”

“Go ahead,” Dan said. “Do the honors.”

“You’re sure?” Jenna glanced from Dan to Gard, who grinned at her. When Dan nodded she watched the foal nurse, its wide brown eyes soft with contentment. Calmness, warmth, and an astonishing sense of peace coursed through her. “Harmony.”

“Pretty,” Dan said.

“Perfect,” Gard murmured.

Gard’s gaze was so warm, so intimate, Jenna’s eyes filled. Everything was perfect. She turned quickly away—hormones, that’s all. Totally out-of-control hormones.

“Thank you,” she told Dan and once outside, hooked her arm through Gard’s. “That was amazing. I can’t thank you enou—”

“No thanks needed.” Gard’s voice was raspy and when they’d settled in the cab, she sat for a moment in silence as if making a decision. “I don’t suppose you’re hungry?”

Jenna laughed. “Somehow, I think we’ve been here before.”

Gard grinned and reached for the keys. “Yeah. My repertoire is a little thin, I guess.”

Jenna rested her hand on Gard’s wrist. “I’m famished. Oscar’s?”

“You sure?”

“Very sure.”

Gard glanced over at her. “Why did you come tonight? I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I knew when I saw you at the door something important was happening.” Jenna didn’t add she would have gone with her for any reason, needing to be careful that the beauty of the night and all that had happened didn’t carry her away. She’d never felt anything as right as sitting in the front seat of Gard’s truck in the middle of the silent countryside, watching starlight flicker over Gard’s face and waiting for dawn. She could so easily lose herself here, and yet, despite the risks, she couldn’t bring herself to deny her feelings. “And…I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Gard heaved a sigh and turned on the truck. “I kept thinking you might leave.”

“Alice has arranged for an art dealer to come up this weekend. Once the paintings are taken care of, I can show the house. I’ll probably meet with the realtor next week.”

Gard’s shoulders tightened. “Then you won’t have any reason to stay, will you?”

“I never intended to stay very long.”

“It must be nice to have life go according to plan.”

Jenna laughed humorlessly. “Oh, it must be. But I wouldn’t know.”

Gard pulled into the parking lot at Oscar’s. It might’ve been noon judging from the jammed lot, although on closer inspection almost all the vehicles were eighteen-wheelers. The farmers in their pickups wouldn’t show up for another couple of hours. Gard turned off the engine and jiggled the keys between her fingers. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not quite the country girl you think.” Jenna shifted around until her back was against the door. “I grew up in the country, but not on a farm—at a truck stop just off the turnpike. My father died in a motorcycle crash when I was three. My birth mother was never in the picture and his second wife, Darlene, kept me. She was a diner waitress, and later so was I. That’s what I was raised to be. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but unfortunately, Darlene tended to supplement her tips with some after-hours work. Work that she brought home with her. A trailer is a small place, and when I got older, it started to look like I might be on the menu soon.”

“Jesus, Jenna.” Gard’s eyes flashed darkly in the light from the diner’s glowing white neon sign.

“Oh, things never progressed that far, but Darlene definitely considered me bait for the kind of game she was hunting. That’s when I got out.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You were on your own?”

“Yes. For the first few years. I managed to get some education, got into the city college, and turned what had always been my passion into something I could make a living at. I got lucky and met Alice when I was just getting started. She gave me a chance. She gave me a lot.”

“You love her.”

“Yes, I do,” Jenna said. “We’re not lovers. We never have been. It’s not right for us. I don’t love her that way.”

Gard’s brows drew down. “What way?”

“Desperately. Passionately. All-consumingly.”

“That’s how you see love?”

“Don’t you?”

Gard shook her head. “Once. Not anymore.”

“Are you ever going to tell me about her?”

“It’s an old story. I thought she loved me. She didn’t.” Gard yanked open her door and jumped down. “Let’s get breakfast.”

Jenna followed, absurdly pleased that Gard hadn’t said I loved her when she spoke about the woman who had obviously hurt her. Silly to be jealous. She’d never been jealous over a woman in her life. Of course, she hardly recognized half of what she was feeling these days. When had she become a stranger to herself? She nearly stumbled when she considered that the stranger might be the woman she’d been before arriving in Little Falls.

“Jen, you okay?” Gard grasped her hand.

“Yes,” Jenna said, instantly centered by Gard’s warm strength. “Yes. I’m just glad to be here.”

Gard rested her fingertips on Jenna’s cheek and lightly kissed her. “So am I.”

Jenna swayed toward her as naturally as the tide surging to the moon’s pull. She wanted another minute alone with her, under the stars, She wanted another kiss. “We should go inside.”

“I know.”

Gard slid an arm around Jenna’s waist and when they walked into Oscar’s, someone called, “Whoo-ee!” Jenna smiled.

Gard demolished her eggs, biscuits, and sausage automatically, much more interested in drinking Jenna in than what was on her plate. Making easy small talk—catching up on Jenna’s progress with her book, answering her excited questions about the foal’s future, telling her about the farmers market set up outside of town every Saturday morning—made the stone she’d been carrying around in the pit of her stomach disappear. Beneath the pleasure, though, she was always aware of time passing.

“Sun’s coming up,” Gard said as she and Jenna strolled back to the truck. “Tired?”

“Pleasantly.” Jenna flopped into the seat and dropped her head back against the seat. She looked relaxed, happy.

Gard had a hard time believing she was sitting across from Jenna at five o’clock in the morning when twenty-four hours before she’d pretty much convinced herself she was never going to see her again. Not the way they’d been together up on the mountainside. Not when Jenna had pulled back the minute she’d had a chance to think about what they’d done.

She was certain Jenna hadn’t been running from the sex—the sex had been incredible and they’d both pretty much said so. But Jenna had been clear about wanting simple and no strings. Maybe to her that meant one-time sex. Or hell, maybe she just wanted to spend her last few weeks in the country writing without the distraction of an affair. Whatever had put that wall up between them, she’d resigned herself to it. Or tried to.

The idea of never seeing Jenna again had been eating holes in her insides.

Then Dan had called and she knew, she just knew, that Jenna had to see the birth. All she’d been able to show her when she’d taken her around on field calls had been the dirty end of the job—hard work and sweat and suffering animals. She’d wanted to show her the beauty of her work too. And she just plain had to see her. It was crazy. Sure. But if she was going to hurt, why not hurt because of what she wanted, instead of what she wouldn’t let herself have? A few more hours with Jenna was all she was likely to get. So yeah, the hollow ache in the center of her chest when Jenna left for good was coming. But worth it all the same.

Gard started up the truck and headed out. “It sounds like you’ll have things squared away out at Birch Hill pretty soon. I guess you’ll be happy to go home.”

“Wait.” Jenna suddenly straightened.

Gard braked at the edge of the parking lot, her left blinker on, ready to head in the direction of Jenna’s house. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything. I’m not really sure.” Jenna slid over and stroked Gard’s jaw with the backs of her fingers. “I should’ve stayed away from you in the first place, but I didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have gone out with you last night, either, but the minute I saw you on the porch, the only place I wanted to be was with you.”

Gard caught Jenna’s hand and kissed her palm. “Then we both wanted the same thing. Maybe we should just leave it at that for now.”

“And next week? Next month—whenever I go?”

“Won’t be any worse than the way things have been. I couldn’t get you off my mind.” Gard pushed a hand through her hair. “I was glad for the night work because I couldn’t sleep anyways. We’re both adults. We both know the score.”

“What are you saying?”

“I feel good when I’m with you.”

“Oh God,” Jenna whispered. “So do I.”

Gard relaxed and pressed Jenna’s hand to her thigh. “So what do you say to a date Friday night?”

“A date.” Jenna laughed. “That sounds so old-fashioned. In a really nice way.”

“I guess it is. The Simpsons are having a barn-raising on Friday afternoon, followed by a barbecue and a barn dance. I got roped into going because Ida Simpson is my tech’s sister, and I promised Rob I’d go if he covered my hours this morning.”

“A barn dance. Is there actual dancing?”

Gard laughed. “There might be.”

Jenna stroked Gard’s leg, enjoying the way she laughed, the pleasure in her eyes. “And if we danced? Would there be a riot?”

“They survived us at Oscar’s just now. You’ll just need to behave.”

“Me? What about you?”

Gard gave her an innocent look. “I’m always the picture of decorum.”

“I don’t remember that being the case up on the mountain.”

“I had to have you or die.” Gard’s gaze raked down Jenna’s body.

Instantly breathless, Jenna quickened. “And now that you’ve had me, you’re not hungry anymore?”

“No,” Gard said, her voice low and rough. “Now I’m starving.”

“Are you.” Jenna refused to think about what she was doing. She always thought about what she was doing—about what she would wear, what she would read, how she would answer questions, what she would write and why. Her life had never been spontaneous, because uncertainty equaled danger. Her only comfort had been knowing exactly what each hour would bring. Whenever she was with Gard, she was never certain what she would say or do or feel. A terrifying feeling, but strangely freeing too. Gard pushed her to say more, do more, feel more than she wanted to, but she also made her feel safe, even when she was so exposed. “What should we do about that?”

“You know what I want,” Gard muttered, her teeth clenched. “What do you want?”

Jenna rubbed her thumb in the palm of Gard’s hand, pressing into the firm flesh, running her nail over the calluses. “I really don’t want you to take me home right now.”

Gard flicked her blinker up to signal a right turn and rocketed the truck out onto the highway. “Then I won’t.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Jenna was content to let the drive pass in silence, watching the countryside awaken as Gard drove through the dawn. A herd of deer raised their heads in the midst of a field of belly-high corn, ears flickering with curiosity as they passed. A spotted fawn nestled close to its mother, heartbreakingly beautiful in its fragile innocence. The green fields glistened with dew under the bright yellow sun, so fresh and untarnished Jenna was reminded of a time long ago when she had imagined her life as a similar sea of endless possibility. When had those possibilities become defined by the next deadline, the next book launch, the next award? She’d replaced personal happiness with professional success, and wondered if they really were mutually exclusive. As the melancholy stole in around the edges of her consciousness, she concentrated on the hard heat of Gard’s thigh under her palm and rubbed her hand along the seam of Gard’s pants until Gard grasped her wrist.

“Take it easy,” Gard said, her voice deep and mellow. “I’m driving here.”

“Am I bothering you?”

Gard shot her a look, her eyes smoky. “Oh yeah.”

Jenna smiled. “Sorry.”

“Bull.”

“Okay. Not sorry.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, why?”

“You look a little sad.”

“No,” Jenna said quickly, “far from it.” She hesitated, knowing she was on dangerous ground. She’d been the one wanting their pasts to stay in the past, but the more time she spent with Gard, the more she wanted to know her. Even more terrifying, the more she wanted to be known. “Have you ever wanted to go back? Back before everything changed, back before you stopped believing in happy endings?”

“Jenna,” Gard said softly, fitting their fingers together and rubbing the back of Jenna’s hand against her middle. “Until just a little while ago, happy didn’t figure into anything I ever thought I was going to be.”

“And now?”

Gard lifted their hands and kissed Jenna’s knuckles. “Right this minute I’m very happy.”

“So am I.” Happier than she dared think about. She’d loved sitting with Gard in the diner, sharing a private moment in the midst of all the activity. She never would’ve imagined that a simple meal could be so intimate. By the time they’d left the diner she was wet.

Jenna went back to stroking Gard’s thigh.

“You’re doing the distracting thing again,” Gard said.

“I think you’re tough enough to handle it.”

Gard laughed and slowed for a tractor pulling a hay wagon across the road. A mile or two farther on, Gard turned off the highway onto the dirt lane leading to her house. An ocean of corn seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere and extended as far as Jenna could see on either side.

“Do you farm this?” Jenna asked.

“I’d like to, but I don’t have the time. I lease it.” Gard pulled up in front of the house, put the truck in neutral, and turned in her seat. Beam raced around the side of the house, barking ecstatically. “Are you sure about this?”

“Quite sure.” Jenna turned off the ignition, pulled out the keys, and dropped them in Gard’s lap. Without waiting for Gard, she jumped out of the truck, scratched Beam’s ears, and ambled up the walkway to the house. Gard caught up to her and together they climbed onto the porch. She remembered talking to Rina out here, thinking at the time she’d only be passing through. So much had changed for her since then, more than she could ever have imagined. Gard watched her with a worried expression and she took her hand. “Remember last night when you wanted me to promise that I would stand exactly where you wanted me and not move?”

“I remember,” Gard said with a note of caution.

“Turnabout is fair play. Now you promise.”

Gard’s eyebrows went up. “All right.”

“Come inside then.”

Jenna opened the screen door, turned the brass knob on the heavy walnut door, and found it unlocked. She tugged Gard’s arm and they went inside. She didn’t hesitate but headed down the hall and directly up the stairs, only pausing when she reached the top. To the left was Gard’s bedroom, to the right the guest room where she had stayed. “Right or left?”

“Left,” Gard said instantly.

Jenna continued on, pleased with Gard’s choice. She wanted to be in Gard’s bedroom. In her bed. She didn’t want casual, she didn’t want quick or easy. She wanted to get inside Gard’s skin the way Gard was inside hers. Gard had seduced her on the mountainside, intentionally or not. She’d surrendered completely up there, and as much as she’d loved not being in charge, she regretted not showing Gard just exactly how much she’d wanted her. Now she intended to make that message very clear.

Gard’s bedroom was like the rest of the house, spacious and elegant. High beaten-tin ceilings, a huge four-poster bed, Craftsman dressers and armoire, floor-to-ceiling windows with sheer white curtains. The covers were pulled down on the bed, but there was no dent in the pillow, no wrinkles in the sheets. No one had slept in it and Jenna liked that too. She pulled Gard over to the side of the bed and then backed away from her.

“Watch,” she whispered. Reaching down, she grasped the hem of her T-shirt and slowly pulled it up and over her head. She let it drop behind her, smiling as Gard’s eyes widened, feeling her color rise as Gard’s gaze dropped from her face down her body. Her nipples rose and tightened. She unbuttoned her jeans, pushed down the zipper, and stepped out of them, getting rid of her shoes at the same time. She hadn’t worn any underwear while she’d been working at home and now she was naked. Gard sucked in a breath and Jenna’s belly quivered. At the touch of Gard’s hands on her waist, she nearly relented and gave up her plan of command. The slightest brush of Gard’s fingers made her wetter, and she wanted to collapse onto her back and pull Gard down on top of her. She wanted Gard over her, Gard’s fingers inside her, Gard’s mouth tormenting her nipples. She wanted to come for her. For her.

“No touching,” Jenna said.

“Jesus Christ.” Gard slid both hands up Jenna’s sides and tried to cradle her breasts, but Jenna pushed her arms away.

“I mean it.”

“You let me see you naked for the first time and I can’t touch?”

Gard made a very uncivilized sound and Jenna laughed. “You promised to stay where I put you and not move.”

“You tricked me.”

“You’ll live.” Jenna unbuttoned Gard’s shirt, one slow button at a time, and worked it down her shoulders. She bunched the cotton T-shirt underneath in her hands, jerked it free of Gard’s pants, and pulled it up and off. “Boots.”

Gard obeyed, toeing off her work boots and leaning down to yank off her socks. When she straightened, naked except for her jeans, Jenna clenched inside. “I get so wet just looking at you.”

“Let me have you,” Gard demanded.

“Be patient.” Jenna ran her hands over Gard’s chest and cupped her small breasts. She lightly rubbed the pale tan nipples, her breath hitching when Gard’s stomach tightened, the squares of taut muscle popping between the etched furrows. Oh God, she wasn’t going to be able to wait. Had to taste her. Had to be in her heat. She pressed her breasts to Gard’s and kissed her.

The instant their tongues touched, Gard groaned and jerked Jenna close. Their bodies fused from breast to thigh and the rough cotton of Gard’s pants rubbed against the soft skin of Jenna’s belly. Jenna spread her legs to let Gard slide one thigh between her legs. She rolled her sex against Gard’s hard muscle until her clitoris pulsed on the edge of explosion. Dragging herself away from Gard’s mouth, she knelt on the thick Persian rug and gripped Gard’s ass to hold her in place. She’d left a wet spot on Gard’s pants. She liked that. She wanted to rub herself against Gard’s stomach and leave her scent everywhere. She brushed her mouth over Gard’s stomach instead, circling Gard’s navel with the tip of her tongue. Gard tried to open her fly, but Jenna quickly caught her hands.

“No.” She tugged the rim of Gard’s belly button with her teeth and licked downward until she reached the waistband of her jeans. She opened the top button, slid the zipper down partway, and worked her tongue lower.

“Come on, Jenna,” Gard whispered.

Smiling, Jenna shook her head. She sucked lightly on the satin-soft skin exposed by the vee of Gard’s open fly until Gard’s ass tightened and her hips jerked against Jenna’s mouth. Jenna’s thighs grew damp and her clitoris twitched and she was seconds away from begging Gard to slide her fingers inside her. Mustering her willpower, she stood and pressed her palms against Gard’s chest. Gard backed up, hit the bed, and fell backwards.

Instantly, Jenna straddled her, pinning her to the bed with both hands on her shoulders. “You weren’t supposed to move.”

“You pushed me.” Gard bucked her hips, forcing her crotch into Jenna’s swollen center. The pressure was exquisite and Jenna had to bite her lip not to cry out. She squeezed Gard’s shoulders harder.

“Stop that.”

“You can’t expect me not to—”

Jenna silenced her with a kiss, sliding her tongue inside, taking her in a deep, deep kiss that had Gard arching off the bed. While she played in Gard’s mouth, she rocked in the cradle of Gard’s pelvis, teasing herself as her tender clitoris rubbed back and forth on the cotton fabric of Gard’s half-open pants. Gard clasped her hips, increasing the pressure between them, and she moaned, rubbing her breasts over Gard’s. She wanted to come. She really, really wanted to come. If she could just come, she could get control again. Make things last, make Gard wait. Make it good for her—

“Oh.” Jenna trembled, the orgasm coiling between her thighs. Almost there now, and so so good. No, no, not yet. With a sharp cry, she pushed upward, easing the exquisite tension in her pelvis.

“What are you doing?” Gard’s grip on Jenna’s hips tightened. “You want to come.” She tried to pull Jenna up the bed. “Let me make you come in my mouth.”

Jenna planted her hand between Gard’s breasts, preventing her from dragging her up. She’d come in a second if Gard took her that way. “Get your pants off.”

“Damn it, Jenna.”

Jenna leaned away from Gard and caressed her own breasts with both hands, catching her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, tugging them. The shock made her clitoris jump. “Do it or I’ll make myself come.”

Gard cursed and half sat up, pushing at the waistband of her pants. The rippling muscles in her chest and abdomen bore stark witness to her need and Jenna had to fight not to just give in and fall on her. She skimmed her fingers down the center of her abdomen and pressed the base of her clitoris with two fingers. Her hips lifted and she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Oh God, she was close.

“Go ahead,” Gard said, her attention focused on Jenna’s fingers. “Make yourself come.”

“I might.” Jenna gasped as pleasure filled her throat. She fondled herself until she knew she had to stop or surrender. “In a little while.”

Gard reached for her but she pushed away, sliding down the bed until she was lying between Gard’s spread thighs. She kissed the base of Gard’s belly and rubbed her cheek over the soft skein of hair at the apex of her thighs. “But I’ve got something else in mind first.”

Gard drove her fingers into Jenna’s hair, trapping her head between her hands. “Go slow.”

“I’ll go any way I want to.” Still, she did take her slowly, wanting to savor each heartbeat against her lips, each thrust and shivered breath as she kissed and licked and sucked. She knew how to keep Gard on the edge and she did, slowing her strokes, softening the suction when Gard tried to press harder into her mouth. She toyed with her, teasing and rubbing and dipping inside with her fingertips.

“I need to come.” Gard sounded so matter-of-fact, her voice so flat and hollow, Jenna knew she was right on the brink.

Jenna pulled back and covered her with swift, light kisses.

Gard’s legs shook. “I need to come.”

Jenna trapped Gard’s clitoris between her fingers and watched it pulse, licking with a rhythm too uneven to bring her over.