“I need to come.” Gard groaned, seeming to turn to stone, every muscle so tight Jenna feared she might splinter. She wasn’t sure Gard was breathing anymore, and she had to give her what she needed now. She sucked her gently and swirled her tongue and Gard’s breath shot out and she came in a series of hard thrusts.

Jenna smiled around Gard’s throbbing flesh. Her lips would be bruised—the idea pleased her very much.

“Now.” Gard reared up before she was even done coming, catching Jenna by surprise.

“What—” Jenna gasped.

“Damn it, Jen, come here.” Gard pulled Jenna upward, unable to wait any longer to sink into her. She kissed her, the last of her orgasm roiling in her belly. Racing a hand over Jenna’s breasts, down her body, and between her legs, she cupped her and squeezed. Jenna cried out and Gard slid her fingers inside her, her thumb working Jenna’s clitoris back and forth.

Jenna jerked, her eyes wide and stunned. “Oh my God.”

“You coming, baby?”

Nodding helplessly, Jenna fell into Gard’s arms, flooding Gard’s hand with hot release. Holding her breath, Gard rolled onto her side, keeping Jenna securely in her arms. She kissed her, needing to be inside her everywhere. Needing, in that infinite moment, nothing more.

Chapter Twenty-four

Jenna kissed Gard’s throat. Salty sweet, fragrant as fresh-cut hay. The sun streamed through the window onto her bare back. With her cheek pillowed against Gard’s shoulder, she might have been lying on a grassy slope on a lazy summer afternoon with nothing on her mind except the clouds flickering by overhead. She burrowed a little closer, absorbing all that was Gard. The bold, steady beat of her heart. Slow breaths flowing in and out, as soothing as the wind in the trees. The oh-so-seductive rasp of Gard’s slightly rough fingertips up and down her spine. The wondrous panorama of Gard’s body—tanned shoulders, pale breasts and belly. Hard muscle. Soft skin. Sweet, sweet taste.

She hadn’t realized she was rocking her hips until Gard gave a satisfied rumble and cupped her ass, drawing her center hard against Gard’s thigh. She caught her breath at the sudden swell of desire.

Gard murmured, “Whatever you’re thinking, I like it.”

“You do wonderful things to me.”

Gard’s chuckle was a deep powerful vibration beneath Jenna’s ear. A breeze brushed the hair at her temple. Gard’s mouth skimmed over her ear.

“I want to do all kinds of things to you,” Gard said.

Jenna teased herself, rolling her pelvis in slow circles on Gard’s leg. She was wet, and certain Gard could tell. Her clitoris tingled and very soon she would want to come. “Don’t you think you should give me time to catch my breath?”

“You sound plenty rested to me. Feel that way too.”

Laughing, Jenna pulled Gard’s nipple into her mouth. Instantly, Gard arched, a soft moan quivering in her throat. Jenna wanted to purr with satisfaction. Turning Gard on was more exciting than her own excitement. “And I can’t get enough of you.”

Gard rolled onto her back and pulled Jenna over her, scissoring their legs together. “I can’t get enough of what you do to me. Just waking up next to you makes me want to come.”

“Oh God.” Jenna tented her lip between her teeth. Gard’s eyes were so dark, her need so undisguised, Jenna’s heart ached. How could anyone be so trusting, how could anyone be so damn brave? She wanted so much to cherish that trust, to take away the last lingering shadows of pain in her eyes, she could barely swallow around the lump in her throat. And then Gard kissed her, so tenderly, so gently, that every single bit of control she’d ever had crumbled. She wasn’t sure she could hold off her own climax long enough to bring Gard to orgasm, but she was damn well going to try. She pushed up on both arms and settled her hips between Gard’s legs.

“Jen,” Gard groaned.

“Want to come, do you? Let’s see what we can do about that.” Jenna kissed her and thrust with the rhythm she knew Gard liked. Gard moaned and she bore down harder, ignoring the ache between her thighs. Her breath was short, her words a whisper. “You like that?”

“Just…like that.”

Gard was so hard and so wet, her eyes so hot—black swirling wildly through the gray, a volcano boiling over. Jenna wanted her so much. So much, too much…too much to hold. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” Jenna gasped. “I’m going to come.”

“Please,” Gard whispered, her leg tensing between Jenna’s, giving her just the extra pressure she needed. “I want to feel you.”

Jenna exploded. The orgasm shook her so hard she fell into Gard’s arms, moaning open-mouthed against Gard’s shoulder. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“You’re beautiful, Jenna.” Gard brushed the moisture away and kissed her.

“Damn, damn, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Jenna said weakly.

“I love when you come for me. Makes me so hot I just want you all over again.”

“I want you to have me.” Jenna closed her eyes, her strength draining away with the last tremors. She couldn’t move, which was fine, since she never intended to move. The night had been perfect, the morning exquisite. She’d never been so connected to another human being. Gard touched her, inside and out. Being known, being united so intimately, was terrifying and exhilarating and wonderful. Gard was the most incredible woman she’d ever met.

And oh, what was she thinking? What was she saying?

Jenna pushed herself up on her arms and looked down the length of their bodies tangled together on the bed. They fit perfectly, breast to breast, belly to belly, center to center. Oh God. She was in love with her, wasn’t she? That couldn’t be. She couldn’t let that be. What would she do? She’d never made space for that in her life. She’d never planned on needing anyone, counting on anyone. Wanting anyone this much. Her chest tightened and she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Hey. Hey.” Gard caressed Jenna’s cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Baby, what is it? Did something hurt you?”

“No,” Jenna said. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“You sure? For a second there, you looked scared.”

Jenna forced a smile. “How could I be? I’m here with you and you make me feel wonderful.”

Gard wasn’t convinced, but she wouldn’t press Jenna to talk about something she wasn’t ready to share. She rubbed her cheek over Jenna’s breasts and kissed each one, letting her lips skate over Jenna’s erect nipples. She wanted to make her come again, wanted to feel her lose control, wanted to feel her open the gates and let her in. “I want you again.”

“No way.” Jenna feebly slapped Gard’s shoulder. “I might not even be able to walk after this.”

“Did I hurt you?” Gard sat up quickly, shifting around so Jenna was lying in her arms. “Did I?”

“No, no.” Jenna kissed her, stroked her hair, kissed her again. “God, no. You just make me come so hard I’m totally exhausted.”

“That good, huh?”

Jenna rolled her eyes. “Oh my God. I’ve forgotten who I was talking to. Yes, it was quite satisfactory, thank you.”

Laughing, Gard settled back, wrapped Jenna in her arms, and pulled the sheet up over them. “Get some sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“What about you?” Jenna skimmed her hand down Gard’s stomach and between her legs. She was hot, her clitoris swollen and throbbing. “I’m not going to go to sleep with you like this.”

“I’m okay. When you come, I feel satisfied. Better than that. You’re…there’s never been anyone like you.”

Jenna pressed her fingers to Gard’s mouth. “Shut up. Shut up, shut up. Don’t say things like that.”

“Even if they’re true?”

Jenna wished she knew some way to make the truth less painful. “Especially if they’re true. I’m sor—”

Gard kissed her. “Go to sleep, Jenna. We’ll figure it all out.”


Gard didn’t sleep. Holding Jenna was all she needed, except for wanting desperately to imprint every memory so she’d never forget a single sensation. She’d slept with women before, but never like this. Never as if her very life depended on being with Jenna, holding her, protecting her, being hers. Most of all, being hers.

We’ll figure it out.

The words kept playing through Gard’s head. What was there to figure out, really? Before long, Jenna would go back to New York, and their affair would be over. Maybe that’s why she’d let herself feel so much with Jenna—she’d known any connection would end before her past surfaced and destroyed what was between them. Because sooner or later, the past would catch up to her.

There’s never been anyone like you.

She’d thought she’d been in love, been loved, only to have it all come apart when she’d made a devil’s bargain. She’d walked away from her life, but Jenna couldn’t—Cassandra Hart couldn’t. Cassandra was a public figure. Cassandra wasn’t invisible, couldn’t be a ghost, as Gard had become. She might have constructed a life where nothing mattered before her arrival in Little Falls, but Jenna had created a very different life. If Jenna didn’t just turn around and walk out on her when she learned the truth, she’d ultimately be hurt by a relationship with her. Gard couldn’t let that happen.

I want you to have me, Jenna had said. But would she, if she knew the truth? Would she ever trust her?

Gard held Jenna closer, stroking her hair, the curve of her shoulder, the hollow above her hips. So beautiful. So incredibly warm and giving. Jenna was far braver than her. She’d shared the story of her life. How calmly she had spoken of what she’d been through, as if it were an everyday occurrence for a teenager to strike out on her own and find a way not only to survive, but to be incredibly successful. Jenna was special. Far, far too special for her. She couldn’t contaminate Jenna’s life, and thankfully, she wouldn’t have the opportunity.

Closing her eyes, she kissed Jenna’s forehead, her temple, her mouth. She wanted her again so much, she forced herself to be nothing but gentle.

Jenna stirred and caressed Gard’s breast. “You’re all tense. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

Gard shook her head. “Nothing, go back to sleep.”

“I can’t. If I sleep, I’ll miss something, and I don’t want to miss a second of being with you.”

“I don’t suppose anyone’s ever mentioned how stubborn you are.”

“Never once.” Jenna lightly bit Gard’s shoulder then soothed the spot with a kiss. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Gard brushed stray strands of sun-kissed hair from Jenna’s cheek. “I’m gonna have to go to work soon.”

Jenna groaned. “What time is it?”

“About noon.”

“I need to get back too,” Jenna said, although she wasn’t ready to get up. Something was bothering Gard and she wanted to know what. She didn’t believe Gard regretted their lovemaking. Gard wouldn’t have given herself so completely, so openly, if there hadn’t been something special between them. If Gard hadn’t felt something for her. She blamed herself for insisting they leave the past in the past. At the time, she’d thought she’d been protecting herself and sparing Gard the pain and embarrassment of reliving something she obviously did not want to talk about. Now she wondered if she hadn’t been a coward, and Gard was suffering for her decision. She sat up and draped the sheet around her waist. “There’s nothing you can tell me that will change anything between us.”

Gard’s face instantly shuttered closed. Her withdrawal hurt more than Jenna had believed possible. What was she doing? Jenna pleated the sheet between her fingers, searching for words. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you. I’m not even sure why I’m trying to get you to talk about it.”

Abruptly, Gard rose and searched around on the floor for her pants. She pulled her jeans on and zipped them partway, not bothering to close the top button. She stalked to the other side of the room and braced an arm on either side of the window. From where Jenna sat, all she could see was the sunlight splintering around Gard’s head and dusting her shoulders, leaving the stark planes of her back in shadow. She was so beautiful.

Jenna threw the sheet aside and went after her. She wrapped her arms around Gard’s middle and rested her cheek between her shoulder blades. “Gard?”

When Gard didn’t answer, Jenna caressed the tight muscles in Gard’s stomach and kissed her back. “I don’t care, Gard. What matters to me is this moment with you. The moments that we’ve shared. I’m sorry I asked for more.”

Gard covered Jenna’s hand and held it hard against her stomach. “You didn’t ask for anything unreasonable. I just…I’m not used to talking about things.”

“And you don’t have to.” Jenna held her more tightly. This was better, to leave the secrets where they belonged. They had the now, they had this.

“Are you still going to come to the barn dance tomorrow night?” Gard asked.

“Of course I’m going to come.” Jenna gave Gard a little shake. “First of all, we have a date, and I don’t take kindly to being stood up.”

Gard chuckled and Jenna’s heart eased.

“Furthermore,” Jenna said, “you promised me a dance.”

“I’ll dance with you.” Gard turned and cupped Jenna’s face in her hands. “I’ll do anything you want.”

Jenna brushed her fingers through Gard’s hair and caressed her until the shadows left her her eyes. “What I want is this.” She kissed her. “And I’d like very much to see you smile.”

“Jenna,” Gard murmured, kissing her back. When she drew away, she smiled.

Jenna nodded, satisfied. Enough. Enough for now.

Chapter Twenty-five

“You want to explain to me again exactly why you’re going to spend the night in a non-air-conditioned barn filled with scratchy hay and smelling like horse poop?” Alice stood with hands on hips in the middle of Jenna’s bedroom.

“I already told you—twice.” Jenna turned slowly in front of the full-length, wood-framed mirror hanging on the inside of the cedar closet door, trying to get a view of her ass in the new jeans she’d picked up that morning. “It’s a community thing. People get together and help put up a barn, and then they party. The barn’s brand new, so it’s not likely to be filled with hay or poop.”

“Just sweating people. And your ass looks fine.” Alice plopped onto the end of the bed and leaned back on her elbows. “Remember, Diane is coming tonight.”

“Bring her to the dance. You don’t have a date.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Alice snorted. “First of all, she’s completely not my type. Second of all, she owns an art gallery in Soho and a condo off Central Park. A barn dance?”

Jenna pulled a sleeveless white shirt from the closet and turned to Alice. “You can’t really be this much of a snob. You are kidding, right?”

“Mostly. Although, really. You know how hot it’s going to be in there tonight?” Alice grinned. “Do you think the sheriff will be there?”

Jenna buttoned the cotton shirt and tucked it in. “Undoubtedly.”

“In that case, I suppose I could live with the heat. Your nipples show through that shirt.”

Jenna looked down at herself. “A lot or just enough?”

Alice pursed her lips. “Just enough to drive a certain someone crazy if she happens to be looking. Is that what you want?”

“Of course that’s what I want. I’m sleeping with her, aren’t I?”

“About that.” Alice plucked at the pink chenille bedspread as if the small cotton nubs peppering the surface were the most fascinating items she’d ever seen. “Where are you going with it?”

“Why do I have to be going somewhere?” Jenna eyed the cowboy boots she’d purchased on a whim. Maybe her feet would get sore if she tried to dance in them all night, but damn, they were sharp. Glossy black, slightly pointed toes, chunky heels. She felt a little wild and sexy wearing them. What the hell, a few blisters were a small price to pay for looking, and feeling, hot. She sat on the window bench to pull them on.

“I’m just not used to seeing you so…into someone,” Alice said.

“Meaning you think I’m loose?”

“No, I just don’t think of you as getting attached.”

Attached. Jenna considered that word. Attached was what you got to a close friend, maybe even a fuck buddy. Attached was not the word for what she felt about Gard. “I’m not attached.”

“Then what are you?”

Jenna paused, one boot on, the other in her hands. Confession time. “I’m in love with her.”

Alice threw up her hands. “That’s completely impossible. That plotline is not going to fly. You’ll have to rework the entire sentence and whatever paragraph came before it. Possibly the entire chapter.”

Jenna smiled. “I’m afraid this is one story I can’t massage into anything else.”

“For God’s sake, Jenna! She lives in Vermont. She’s a vet. You live in Manhattan. You’re something of a star, and you spend half your life traveling. Not to mention the rest of your time working. And God damn it, she’s got a sordid past.”

“You don’t know what that’s about. And what does that matter anyhow? I never heard of her before. Probably no one else has either.”

“I Googled her the other day,” Alice said. “About five hundred hits came up, and some of them are recent. It’s pretty easy to find the story.”

“You…” Jenna’s whole body flared hot. “You Googled her? Do you want to look through her underwear drawer too? Jesus, Alice. Whatever happened to privacy?”

“There is no such thing as privacy anymore, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Do you think your readers won’t be curious about your lover? That they won’t do the same thing I did and find the same stories? Do you really want to field questions at book readings about your lover’s illicit past? And don’t even get me started on the publicity department.” Alice waved an arm dramatically. “We are not talking about a traffic ticket here, she—”

“No! You do not tell me anything.” Jenna tried to sit on her temper, but she hated Gard being attacked, even by someone trying to protect her. “Do you think I don’t know how to do an Internet search? If I’d wanted to look her up, I would have.”

Alice stared. “You’re just going to pretend this is a non-issue?”

“When Gard is ready, she’ll tell me. I know what I need to know. She’s a wonderful woman. People around here like and respect her. She’s…she’s gorgeous and funny and strong and…” Jenna closed her eyes. “And oh God, when she touches me I feel like the most precious thing in her life. Do you know what that feels like?”

The silence grew so heavy, Jenna half expected to open her eyes and find Alice gone. Instead, she was shocked by Alice’s stricken expression. “Oh, damn, Alice. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off—”

“Hell, no, don’t apologize. I didn’t realize you didn’t know how special you are. How precious you are to me. You’re an amazing woman with incredible talent. And I’m probably going to kick myself for the rest of my life for not trying to seduce you before you ran into James Dean of the Cornfields.”

Jenna laughed. “She’s not like that.”

“I bet you five hundred dollars she picks you up tonight in her big ole truck, wearing dusty boots and faded jeans and a tight white T-shirt.”

“Oh God, I hope so.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t have any idea. But I don’t think I’ll be leaving right away. I just want to be with her right now. Can’t that be enough?”

“I don’t know, Jenna. How long can you put the rest of your life on hold?”

Jenna ducked her head, pretending to be busy pulling on the second shiny black boot. How long indeed.


Gard swung her truck up the drive to Jenna’s a little before eight. She hopped out and hurried onto the porch, but before she could knock, the screen door opened and Jenna was there, framed in the soft yellow light from inside. The day and a half since she’d last seen her felt like years. The second Jenna’d left the house she’d started missing her, and the missing wasn’t just from wondering if she’d ever see her again. She missed the way Jenna’s gaze made her feel centered and focused and a million other things she never thought she wanted or needed. Hell, when Jenna smiled at her she was instantly taller than tall, brave and bold, and so swamped with tenderness she wanted to cry. Jenna turned her inside out and she liked it. Liked it an awful lot. In the hours they’d been apart, she’d half convinced herself Jenna was only a wonderful dream. She traced her fingertips over Jenna’s face. Jenna was solid and real and smiling at her right now—and the churning in her stomach settled. She kissed her.

“Hi.”

“Hi, you.” Jenna slid her arms around Gard’s waist and kissed her back, long and slow and deep.

Awash with peace and excitement, Gard never wanted the kiss to end. She pulled Jenna onto the porch and walked her backwards into the shadows until Jenna bumped into the wall. Bracing her forearms on the clapboards, Gard spread her legs and boxed Jenna in between her thighs. She pinned her with her body and kissed her, hot and hungry.

Jenna gasped and clutched Gard’s shoulders, suddenly famished, her cool resolve of the last two days burning away at the first taste of Gard’s heat. She’d been so pleased with herself since she’d left Gard’s bed—keeping her head on straight, not letting the constant memories of being with Gard derail her. Oh, she got wet every time she thought about her, which was about a hundred times a day, so she walked around half turned on pretty much all the time, but that was all about good sex. Sex with Gard was great. So the horniness was a given. Normal. And she dreamt about her, or at least woke up with Gard on her mind, and started to call her cell twice for no reason at all, but she’d been cool. Really cool. Until right now, when she was incinerating. She yanked Gard’s tight white T-shirt out of her jeans. A second later she drove her hand down the back of Gard’s pants and palmed her tight, firm ass. Gard rewarded her with a low growl. Jenna feasted on her for a few more seconds, until she edged way too close to the cliff. She dragged her mouth away. “Stop. Stop it right now.”

“Fuck no,” Gard muttered and tried to kiss her again.

Jenna got a hand between them and pushed on Gard’s chest. “We’re going to the dance. You promised. No more kissing.”

“Jenna,” Gard said dangerously.

“Really, sweetheart, I can’t. I’ve wanted you to make me come since yesterday, and I really won’t be responsible if you kiss me again.”

“God damn it.” Gard’s throat worked convulsively and the muscles stood out like iron bands beneath the taut skin.

“Mmm,” she murmured, caressing Gard’s neck. She loved knowing she made Gard want her this much. She’d never enjoyed turning on a woman this way before. She kissed Gard’s throat. “Please? Dance?”

“You’re killing me, you know that, right?”

Jenna nipped Gard’s chin. “Oh, I certainly hope so.”

“I surrender.” Gard had to put some space between them or she was going to drag Jenna off into some dark corner and take her. She was so damned stoked her clit was jumping in her jeans.

Stepping back, Gard grabbed Jenna’s hands and pulled her into the light that shone down on the porch steps. Moths as big as silver dollars fluttered around the uncovered bulb. At the edge of the yard, fireflies flickered in the gathering dusk. Diamonds danced in Jenna’s eyes. “You look great.”

“So do you. Thank God Alice was right.” Jenna smoothed a hand over the tight white T-shirt clinging to Gard’s chest.

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” Jenna smoothed both hands over Gard’s shoulders and down her bare arms, her thumbs tracing the swell of her biceps.

Gard’s nipples hardened and her throat went dry. Her stomach tightened painfully. “Jesus, Jen, have a heart. I don’t know how much I can take.”

“Don’t be a baby.” Jenna smiled, the smile of a woman who knew her lover wanted her. “Besides, I like it when you want me.”

“Then you ought to be happy pretty much all the time.”

Jenna’s expression became suddenly solemn. “You know? I am.”

“Good.” Gard lifted Jenna’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Hot boots, by the way.”

Jenna looked down and made a pleased sound. “You think?”

“I do. If I knew you were getting duded up, I would’ve changed mine. I’ve got some pretty fancy tooled leather boots.”

“Next time.”

Gard feathered her fingertips through Jenna’s hair, wondering how many next times they would have. She tried not to think about the future, just as she never thought about the past, at least not before Jenna came into her life. And she wasn’t going to think about lies, and betrayal, and broken trust now either. Tonight was about Jenna, and tonight they would dance.

“Let’s go to a party.” Gard scooped Jenna into her arms, turning in a wide circle before kissing her. Jenna’s arms came naturally around her neck.

“What was that for?” Jenna asked quietly, resting her head on Gard’s shoulder.

“That was for happy.” Gard sucked in a hard breath when Jenna licked her neck.

“Mmm, you taste nice.” Jenna tilted her head back. “Are you? Are you happy?”

Gard buried her face in Jenna’s hair. Sweet dahlias and spice. “Whenever I’m with you.”

“Gard, I…”

“What?” Gard steeled herself. So soon? She couldn’t be saying good-bye so soon. “What, Jenna?”

Jenna’s answer was interrupted by the sound of an approaching car. Gard carefully let Jenna down to the porch and peered down the drive. A silver Jag sports coupe cut through the twilight, pulled in behind Gard’s truck, and a blonde climbed out.

“Hi. Is Alice Smith here?” the woman called. “Or am I completely lost?”

Behind them, the screen banged open and Alice bounded out. “Diane! You’re in the right place. Come up.”

The svelte blonde with elegant, sculpted features joined them on the porch. Even dressed in plain navy pants, flats, and a loose silk tee, she screamed New York society. Gard’s jaws clenched so hard her teeth ached.

The newcomer waved to Alice before holding out her hand to Jenna. “Hello. I recognize you from your book jackets, Cassandra. Wonderful to meet you. I’m Diane Bleeker.”

“Call me Jenna,” Jenna said.

Alice threw her arms around Diane. “God, you look amazing. Tell me her name.”

Even in the near dark, Diane’s blush was evident. Gard found the woman’s undisguised pleasure disarming. She’d never seen Susannah light up like that at the mention of her.

“Valerie.”

“Well,” Alice said, “she’s doing something right.”

“Yes,” Diane said softly.

Jenna wrapped her arm around Gard’s waist. “Thank you so much for coming up on such short notice, Diane. This is—”

“Gard,” Gard interrupted. “Nice to meet you.”

“You also,” Diane said.

Alice grabbed Diane’s hand. “Come inside and catch me up with all the news. We’ll get your bags later.”

Diane nodded to Jenna and Gard. “It was nice meeting you both. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Cass—Jenna.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

When Alice and Diane disappeared inside, Gard took Jenna’s hand. “Still want to go?”

“Absolutely.” As they crossed the yard to Gard’s truck, Jenna said, “Diane is an art dealer and gallery owner. She’s here to look at Elizabeth’s paintings.”

“I remember you telling me someone was coming. That’s great.”

Jenna stopped, leaned against the front fender, and pulled Gard over to her by the waistband of Gard’s jeans. “Are you all right?”

“I’m great.” Gard wanted Jenna to have a good time. She wanted every minute they had left to them to be lived free of past regrets or future fears. “No stalling. You owe me a dance.”

“I think you have that backwards.” Jenna brushed her mouth over Gard’s. “Just the same, I intend to give you a dance like you’ve never had before.”

Chapter Twenty-six

“Looks like the whole county is here,” Jenna said as Gard parked atop a grassy slope at the end of a long line of pickup trucks, station wagons, and the occasional motorcycle.

“Might be before the night is over.” Gard pocketed her keys and jumped out.

Jenna hopped down and met her in front of the truck. Below them, an enormous blood red barn with a gambrel roof, three cupolas, and an iron weather vane loomed over a cluster of ramshackle out-buildings. Light spilled out through the wide-open double doors, illuminating people milling about with bottles of beer and plastic cups. The low roar of voices and the strains of a band playing country western tunes floated on a breeze fragrant with honeysuckle.

“Ready for this?” Gard clasped Jenna’s hand.

“Oh yes.” Jenna swung their joined hands in a long easy arc, astonished at her own excitement. Nothing could be further from her usual night out—an evening with a woman dressed for success, dinner in a chic restaurant, ending the night in a five-star hotel having urgent sex with someone who was looking for nothing more than she was—a moment’s connection and the physical proof of being alive. She wanted to make love with Gard at the end of this night, too, but not to prove anything. To celebrate something. And that difference changed everything. When she was with Gard, she was more than just happy. More even than just whole. When she was with Gard, she was more herself than she had been since the night she’d left home. Somewhere in the process of falling in love, she had found herself.

She tugged Gard’s hand until Gard slowed, a question in her eyes. A crescent moon rode the clouds overhead, silvering the sharp planes of Gard’s face with haunting beauty.

“Second thoughts?” Gard asked.

“No, none,” Jenna said. Walking beneath a summer sky ablaze with starlight, her fingers entwined with those of a woman who knew her and a lover she trusted, she was completely certain of everything that mattered. “I love you.”

“Jenna,” Gard whispered, her hand trembling in Jenna’s.

“No response is required.” Jenna cupped Gard’s jaw and trailed her fingers along the bunched muscles beneath the smooth skin. “I just wanted to say it. Now let’s go dance.”

“In a minute. Give me a minute. You can’t just say that and keep walking.” Gard framed Jenna’s face, her thumbs lightly brushing the corners of Jenna’s mouth. “You honor me, and I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. I—”

“Don’t say that.” Jenna kissed Gard’s palm. “It’s not about deserving. It’s about how you make me feel—which is pretty damn wonderful.” Jenna threaded her arm around Gard’s waist, sensing her worry, her fear. Wanting to soothe her, she teased, “I’m going to have a hard time tonight if I can’t touch you pretty much all the time.”

Gard grasped Jenna’s shoulder and held her tightly. “You can touch me anyplace, anytime. I…I pretty much love it when you do that.”

“You’re in trouble now.” Jenna laughed, wondering how she’d never noticed she’d been living half a life before. Now the incredible sensation of being whole lit up her soul. Her past, her present, and hopefully her future were finally connected. The thread of her life ran straight and true, and even the pain was part of her happiness. She rested her cheek against Gard’s shoulder. “Loving you makes me so happy.”

“We’re either going inside now,” Gard muttered, “or we’re going back to the truck so I can take you home and make love to you.”

“Well now, there’s a difficult choice.” Jenna released her grip on Gard’s waist and squeezed her ass. “But you know, I’m in the mood for foreplay, and I don’t think there’s any better kind than dancing. Let’s go inside.”

“Anything you want.” Gard pulled her close. “Anything.”


Anything you want.

Gard only wished she could keep that promise, but if Jenna didn’t come to her senses, she didn’t see how she could. She guided Jenna through the crowd, stopping every few feet to return greetings and introduce Jenna. Her mind was only half on the fragmented conversations—she was still reeling from the words I love you. Nothing she’d ever imagined hearing again, and not from Jenna. Not now, not when every waking moment she’d been preparing herself for Jenna to leave. Waiting for the awful barrenness of heart to swallow her when Jenna went home. She hadn’t expected love. And she knew damn well she couldn’t have it. But for tonight, for these few hours, she’d have Jenna. She never let go of Jenna’s hand and no one seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn’t care.

“There’s Rina,” Jenna said.

Rina, wearing civilian clothes—black jeans, a white shirt, and black motorcycle boots—stood by a long trestle table covered with a bright red and white checkered tablecloth talking to a buxom brunette in a shiny black vinyl skirt. A big aluminum tub of crushed ice with beer bottles standing out like fence posts in a winter field squatted on the table next to platters overflowing with sliced ham, turkey, and roast beef, and baskets of bread.

“Feel like a sandwich?” Gard asked.

“I don’t think so. But I’d love something to drink.” Jenna brushed the sweat off her cheeks with her fingers. “Alice was right. It’s hot in here.”

“Wait until later.”

Gard plucked two dripping longnecks out of the tub, handed one to Jenna, and left a ten in a pile of bills on the table. She twisted off the cap and took a long pull just as Rina skirted the crowd and slipped in next to them.

“Not working tonight?” Gard asked.

Rina’s gaze dropped to Gard and Jenna’s linked hands, then rose back to Gard’s. “Believe it or not, I’m completely off duty. Good to see you both.”

“Hi, Rina,” Jenna said.

“Your houseguest still with you?” Rina asked.

“Alice? Yes. I tried to talk her into coming tonight, but I’m not sure I sold her—”

“Appears that you did.” Rina tilted her chin in the direction of the door. “She just walked in. With a date, it looks like.”

Jenna checked over her shoulder and waved until Alice saw her. “Not a date, a friend and business associate.”

“Huh,” Rina said, tracking Alice through the crowd. “How are things coming along out at the house?”

“Fine,” Jenna said. “I love the place.”

Rina gave her a long look. “It’s a damn fine farm.”

“Yes, it is.” At that moment, Alice and Diane, both in jeans, T-shirts, and boots with heels quite a bit higher than Jenna’s, arrived. Jenna made introductions.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Bleeker,” Rina said, shaking Diane’s hand. She grinned at Alice. “I was hoping you’d make it tonight.”

“Really,” Alice said with a speculative smile. “You’ll have to tell me why, later.”

“I’ll do that.”

Alice grasped Jenna’s elbow. “Diane took a quick look at a few of Elizabeth’s paintings. She thinks my idea for a book signing and art exhibit is a good way to judge local interest. I’ll make some calls in the morning, but I think I can set something up in Bennington almost anytime.”

“Thanks. It’ll be good promo for my new release.” Jenna said to Rina, “Diane is an art dealer. She came up to look at Elizabeth’s paintings.”

“Really? Paintings.” Rina frowned. “I didn’t know she did that.”

“Apparently, no one did.”

“Well, if you do a book signing, be sure to let me know.” Rina grinned. “I’m a fan, remember? I know quite a lot of folks who are.”

“I’ll see to your invitation personally,” Alice cut in.

“Counting on that,” Rina said.

“Save me a dance tonight,” Alice said with a last look at Rina before hooking her arm through Diane’s. “And now, let’s go hunt up something to drink.”

The music provided by two guitar players, a fiddler, and a drummer switched to a slow ballad and couples, young and old, congregated in front of the makeshift stage to dance. Jenna glanced at Gard and lifted her brow. “Well?”

Gard gave a little bow. “Would you care to dance?”

“I most certainly would, thank you.”

Gard made yet another path through the laughing, jostling people to the dance floor and swung Jenna into her arms. Jenna’s arms came around her neck and Gard clasped her waist. Their legs slid together as naturally as their fingers interlocked when they held hands. Gard rested her cheek against Jenna’s temple and led her into a slow, easy waltz.

“You’re a good dancer,” Jenna whispered against Gard’s throat.

“A bit out of practice,” Gard said, stealing a quick kiss. She stroked Jenna’s back as they swayed in the crowded space. Holding Jenna made it practically impossible to think about anything, not when blood rushed through her head and her loins with equal intensity. Just the same, despite the haze of arousal, she kept hearing Rina saying she wanted to go to Jenna’s book signing. A public event. Cassandra Hart in a local appearance. Jenna had said she loved her. Jenna was willing to risk her heart and maybe her career. Jenna had never pressed about her past, hadn’t asked for anything at all, not even if Gard had any feelings for her. Jenna had taken all the chances, and what had Gard given her? Nothing. She’d taken what she shouldn’t have, because like always, she was selfish. She skimmed her hand over the back of Jenna’s neck and into her hair, cradling her head as she kissed her again. The lights were low in the barn, but anyone watching could have seen them.

Jenna moaned softly and pulled away. “Sweetheart, I can’t resist you, and this might not be the place…”

“I know,” Gard said, her throat tight. “I just need you. Jenna, I need you.”

“Oh,” Jenna whispered, brushing away a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Gard’s forehead. Her fingers were trembling. “You need only ask.”

“You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“Don’t I?”

“No, but you should. I’m not who you think I am, Jenna. I can’t tell you what it means to me that you love me. It means…everything. But…” Gard took a breath and wondered if she could make up for the past by doing the right thing now. “My life and yours, they’re worlds apart. And I’ve done things, things I’m not proud of. Things that could hurt you.”

The music ended and dancers dispersed. The overhead lights dimmed further, and Gard welcomed the camouflage of near darkness. Maybe Jenna wouldn’t be able to read the uncertainty in her eyes. She kept her voice steady and sure. “I thought we agreed we’d keep this simple and uncomplicated. Temporary.”

“I haven’t asked for anything else.” Jenna sounded calm but her pulse raced in her throat.

“No, you haven’t. And that’s good, because there can’t be anything else.” Gard let her arms drop away until she was no longer holding Jenna. The loss of the connection was as painful as an amputation, and her stomach cramped so hard she nearly winced. “I think we need to slow things down. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Jenna spoke softly, her eyes unwavering, and unaccusing.

Gard hated herself for what she’d done. Then. Now. “I knew going in I couldn’t give you…”

“I already told you, I’m not asking.”

“But you should be. Just not with me.” Gard saw the hurt Jenna tried to hide and it killed her to know she was hurting her. The self-loathing she usually kept at bay washed through her with such force she felt wrong just standing there. Just being anywhere near Jenna.

“Jenna, I have to go.”

“Gard? Gard, don’t do this.”

Gard swung around so abruptly she nearly stumbled into Alice.

“Hey? Get an emergency call?” Alice asked, lifting her plastic cup of wine out of Gard’s path.

“You should get her to go home, Alice. Away from here. Away from me.”

“What?” Alice looked from Gard to Jenna, her forehead creasing.

“Gard, damn it.” Jenna grabbed for Gard’s hand but Gard slipped away. She lost sight of her almost instantly in the crowd, and pain exploded in her chest.

“Jenna?” Alice asked. “What the hell was that all about? What happened?”

“I might have made a tactical error,” Jenna said softly, the color draining from the room along with the lost joy in her heart.

“Translation?”

“I told her I loved her.” The elation of that moment was bittersweet now.

“Oh. Well. I can see where that might have changed the game a little.”

“Apparently, it ended it.”

Alice squeezed Jenna’s shoulder. “You know, maybe it’s for the bes—”

“Don’t say that.” Jenna didn’t understand what had just happened, but she knew her own heart. “Just don’t say that.”

“Okay, okay.” Alice’s eyes softened. “You really mean it, don’t you? About loving her?”

“I do.”

Alice took her hand. “Then what—”

“I’m not going to let her run away. Not before I know why. Then, if she wants to go—” Jenna fought back the tears. Not now. There would be plenty of time for those later. She drew a breath, steadied herself. “If she doesn’t want me—doesn’t love me, all the way—then none of the rest of it matters.”

“Maybe she just needs a little time. Why don’t we get out of here? You can call her tomorr—”

“No.” Jenna knew she’d never sleep, wondering where Gard was. Knowing she was hurting. “Give me fifteen minutes. If I’m not back by then, don’t wait.”

“Take care of your heart, you hear?” Alice said.

“I don’t think that’s up to me any longer.” Jenna kissed Alice’s cheek, then took the biggest risk of her life.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The crowd outside was even thicker and noisier than when Jenna had arrived. She twisted around clots of laughing people, desperate to reach the road. Finally she broke through onto the dirt lane and ran, chest heaving and lungs burning, up the long slope to the ridge where the truck had been parked. There. There! A dark silhouette up on the knoll, blocking out a patch of sky. Gard’s truck. Still there. Gard was still here.

The vise-like constriction in Jenna’s chest eased and she gulped cool night air. She tasted sweet clover and the tang of fresh-plowed earth, and beneath that, hope. Gard hadn’t left. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had, Jenna would have found her. Followed her home, to the clinic, to the farms—anywhere, everywhere. She wasn’t letting her go until she had answers. If Gard didn’t love her, didn’t want her, she would have no choice but to walk away. She’d hurt, oh God, how she’d hurt, but they would at least have the truth, and not secrets, between them when they parted. She deserved that. Gard deserved that too.

As the truck slowly took form, emerging from the night shadows, Jenna saw Gard leaning with her arms braced against the hood, her head bowed. Alone in the dark, Gard looked broken, defeated. Seeing her in pain pierced her like a knife, tearing at her heart even more than Gard walking away from her. If her love was making Gard this unhappy, she’d find a way to live without her. She’d never be able to deny loving her, never be able to bury her feelings as she had in the past, but she’d live with the loss. Somehow. She’d have to endure the agony of letting her go, if that’s what Gard needed.

Jenna slowly crossed the damp grass and rested her backside against the truck a few inches away from Gard. She stroked Gard’s back, once, and then slipped her hands into her pockets. She couldn’t be this close to her without touching her. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t think so,” Gard said, her voice husky and strained.

“I know you don’t want to, but you need to talk to me. I deserve it,” Jenna said. “We deserve it.”

“I know. I just don’t think I can. If you end up hating me—” Gard touched Jenna’s cheek. “If the light goes out in your eyes when you look at me—that will kill me.”

Jenna’s throat closed with tears. “Oh, sweetheart. What have they done to you?”

Gard turned her face away and was swallowed by the night. “It was me, Jenna. No one is responsible except me.”

“Take me home.” Jenna clasped Gard’s hand. “Take me home and tell me what happened. Please.”

Gard sighed. “All right, Jenna. All right.”


Jenna kept her hand on Gard’s arm all the way back to Gard’s house. Even while Gard shifted gears, she curled her fingers over hers, unable to tolerate any more separation. The heavy silence in the truck was already unbearable, but she didn’t want Gard to start talking until there was no chance she could stop. They walked together, side by side, up the flagstone path and sat in the rockers. Only then did she release Gard’s hand, but she turned her chair so their knees brushed. The moonlight provided just enough light to see Gard’s face.

“I’m here,” Jenna said.

“Do you know, no matter how dark the night is, I can always see the starlight in your eyes,” Gard said. “It’s never dark when I’m with you.”

“And it never will be, I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” Gard said.

“I do. And I need for you to know it too. Please, give me a chance to show you.”

“I love you, Jenna. I love you so much.” Gard’s voice cracked.

“Then trust me.” Jenna caressed Gard’s leg. “I’m here. I love you.”

“I’ve tried not to love you, not to let you love me. Losing you is going to take everything I have left.”

“How can you love me and still believe I could be so weak as to let you go because of something you did before we even met?”

“I don’t think you’re weak, just the opposite. And that’s why you’ll hate me.”

“Damn it, Gard,” Jenna snapped, “if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to get really pissed off at you.”

Gard sighed. “I forgot how tough you can be.”

“Well, I haven’t forgotten what a pain in the ass you can be. Now, Gard. It’s time.”

“I destroyed my family, Jenna. I nearly killed my father. I drove away everyone I ever loved.”

“How?” Jenna asked gently. “How?”

“You said you were going to fashion the hero in your new book after me.” Gard rubbed her face with both hands. “You should have cast me as the villain.”

“What did you do?”

“I grew up privileged. Rich. Very rich. Spoiled, indulged. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but that’s the truth of it.”

Jenna waited, letting Gard start wherever she needed to. She didn’t care how long it took—she’d never hear a more important story.

“I never really thought much about where the money came from,” Gard went on, her voice flat and disconnected. “When it’s always there, you don’t think about it. All my friends came from wealthy families. Their lives were just like mine—private schools, exclusive camps in the summer, trips to Europe. It was just the way things were.”

“Why should you question the life you were born into?” Jenna asked.

“Not at first, maybe. But later. Later, I should have.” Gard rose abruptly and paced to the edge of the porch. “Right after I got to college I met a girl, Susannah. My first real relationship. My first love. I’d known for a long time I was a lesbian, but I hadn’t done much more than steal a few kisses until then. I thought I loved her, I thought she loved me. My parents loved her. Her parents loved me—we were the golden couple. I’d go into the family business, she’d have our children and do whatever made her happy. Life was turning out great. Just the way it should.”

Gard wrapped one arm around the porch column, her back to Jenna. “My family made their money in real estate, mostly. Everyone in the family went into the business. My older brother was already a VP. I didn’t think about my career any more than I really thought about the money. I’d always wanted to be a vet, but I never really considered it a serious possibility. It didn’t fit in with my family’s expectations, or even my own.”

“Somehow,” Jenna said softly when Gard fell silent, “I can’t see you in a three-piece suit and a corner office.”

“No, neither can I now. I think eventually I would’ve realized I wasn’t going to fit in the family mold. I might not have had the guts to break away, but as things turned out, I never had a chance to find out.”

“What happened?”

“One morning I was in a coffee shop in Harvard Square. A woman sat down beside me. Young, attractive. She knew my name. She told me a story, a story I didn’t believe at first.”

Jenna’s heart beat faster. Gard sounded so resigned, as if her guilt were leaching the life out of her. As if she already believed Jenna was gone. Jenna wanted so badly to touch her, to hold her, to reassure her. But she couldn’t do any of those things until Gard finished the story. Until the truth lay bare between them.

“What did she tell you?” Jenna asked.

“It seems that I come from a long line of criminals,” Gard said. “The money came from illegal real estate deals, fraudulent mergers, a laundry list of white-collar crimes going back generations. There are nicer names for it, but crooks kind of sums it up and I was right in line to carry on the family legacy. I even worked summers in the business, so I was already involved.”

“Who was the woman in the coffee shop?”

“A federal agent. They’d been after my family for a long time. I didn’t believe her at first, but after several meetings where she showed me some of the evidence, I couldn’t keep denying it. The federal case was strong, probably strong enough to indict most of my family, including me.”

“But you didn’t know,” Jenna protested. “You were what, twenty years old?”

“Almost twenty-one, and no, I didn’t know. Although maybe if I’d questioned some of the things I’d seen, or even questioned how it was the family was so successful when most of the country was in a decline, I might have known. But I never bothered to ask. I never questioned.”

“You’re awfully hard on yourself.”

“You haven’t heard it all.”

Jenna went to stand beside her and gripped the railing. “All right. Finish the story.”

“They offered me a deal. I took it. I provided the evidence that the feds hadn’t been able to get. No one in my family suspected I was gathering reports, chasing paper trails, uncovering double sets of accounting files. I testified in a closed hearing to the grand jury. I gave the federal prosecutors everything they needed to sew up their case.” Gard shuddered. “I betrayed my family, Jenna, and after I testified, my father tried to kill himself.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Jenna said.

“What makes you think there’s more?” Gard asked, her tone a bitter rain of acid regrets.

“Because I know there is. Because I know you wouldn’t have sacrificed your family, not to save yourself. That’s not who you are Gard, I know it. I’ve seen you work—the way you care. I’ve felt the way you love me. You’re not selfish, and you’re no coward. If you made a deal, it wasn’t to make things easier on yourself.”

“The reasons don’t matter.” Gard caught Jenna’s hands and kissed her fingers, then rested her cheek against Jenna’s palm. “The result is still the same. My family was ruined, my father imprisoned, my brother too. I lost them all.”

“What about Susannah? What about your lover?”

“Oh, she was the first to leave me.” Gard laughed bitterly. “She couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I’d ruined my family’s social standing, as well as my own, and she didn’t want to be tarred with the same brush. She never even asked me why I’d done it. She just told me she never wanted to see me again.”

“I want to know why. Tell me why. What did you get in return for your testimony?”

“They promised they’d reduce the charges against my father and brother and not go after anyone else in the family if I helped them secure the case. If I didn’t help, my father would have been looking at the rest of his life in prison.”

“Does your family know what you did to help them? Does Susannah?”

“No.”

“So you sacrificed everything you had—your reputation, your lover, your family—to make things easier for your father and brother, is that what you’re telling me?”

“That’s a nice way of putting it.”

Jenna shook Gard’s shoulders. “That’s the only way to put it. Because that’s what you’re telling me happened.”

“They hate me, Jen.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jenna murmured. “I love you.”

Gard’s shoulders shook, her tears rending Jenna’s soul. Jenna pressed Gard’s face to her neck and Gard clutched her as if she were the only solid thing in a shifting landscape. “You’re not guilty. You didn’t betray them. You sacrificed everything for them.”

“Please don’t leave me,” Gard whispered.

“Oh, baby, I won’t. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” Jenna kissed Gard’s temple, her tears mingling with Gard’s. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Jenna guided Gard upstairs to the bedroom, undressed her, and quickly shed her own clothes. She climbed into bed and held out her arms. “Come here.”

Gard curled around her, one leg over Jenna’s thighs, her head on Jenna’s shoulder, and sighed wearily. An instant later, she was asleep.

As tired as she was, Jenna couldn’t sleep. She kept hearing Gard’s despair. Gard, strong kind gentle Gard, had sounded so empty and lost and broken. Jenna pulled her closer, cradling Gard’s head against her breast. How could anyone who loved her believe she would betray them? If she could get her hands on any of those people—Gard’s parents, her lover…not that she deserved to be called that…the federal agents—she’d cheerfully strangle them all.

She must have slept because the next thing she knew gray ribbons rippled through the inky black outside the window, announcing the day. She kissed Gard’s forehead and Gard murmured something incoherent and nuzzled her neck. Smiling, she combed her fingers through Gard’s hair. Lying with Gard in her arms as dawn broke and the morning erupted with the chatter of birds and the distant crow of a cock, she felt so alive. Despite the long night and the broken sleep and the tears she’d shed, she was happy. Gard was so strong and so tender. And so in need of being cared for. Holding her, loving her, made Jenna feel stronger than she’d ever felt in her life.

Jenna’s heart hammered and she stirred inside. Turning onto her side, she pressed against Gard and kissed her on the mouth.

Gard’s eyes opened and flickered from puzzlement to desire in a heartbeat. “Mmm. Hi.”

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Jenna murmured. “You just felt so good in my arms. I got excited. I’m sorry.”

Gard cupped Jenna’s breast and stroked her nipple into hardness. “And you’re apologizing, why?”

“You were sleeping so deeply.”

“You think I’d rather be sleeping than doing this?” Gard kissed her, long, slow, deep strokes of her tongue, while she gently squeezed Jenna’s breast. Jenna whimpered and slid her leg over the curve of Gard’s hip, pressing her center against Gard’s thigh. She was wet, open, and Gard’s flesh was so hot. She moaned.

“I love you,” Gard whispered.

The words shot to Jenna’s core and she dug her fingers into the thick muscles along Gard’s spine, her hips rolling up and down Gard’s leg. So damn good. “I love you too. I’m going to come.”

“You do that.” Gard skimmed the tip of her tongue over Jenna’s lower lip, nibbled on her. “You come on me, baby.”

Jenna arched, the glorious pressure building until she overflowed. Just as her orgasm peaked, Gard sucked her nipple and she came again, harder. She cried out, reaching blindly for Gard.

“Here, baby. Right here.” Gard pushed Jenna onto her back and covered her, bearing down hard between her legs. Jenna opened for her and wrapped both legs around the back of Gard’s thighs, lifting to her.

“Now you,” Jenna demanded.

Gard groaned and rocked between Jenna’s legs. Jenna clutched Gard’s ass, rising to meet her downward thrusts, giving her the pressure she needed.

“Oh God, Jenna,” Gard gasped. “You feel so good.”

“I love you. I love you.” Jenna kissed Gard’s throat and bit low on her neck. As she left her mark, Gard’s hips jerked and she came in hard, frantic thrusts. Then, spent, she shuddered in Jenna’s arms.

“That’s right,” Jenna crooned. “I’ve got you.”


Gard awakened with sunlight on her eyelids and squeezed them closed, wanting a few more seconds with Jenna. Her cheek was pillowed on Jenna’s breast and Jenna’s hand cradled her neck. Jenna breathed rhythmically, deeply asleep. Gard smiled to herself, thinking that she had put Jenna to sleep. She’d loved her. Satisfied her. Carefully, she kissed Jenna’s breast.

“Don’t start,” Jenna murmured.

Gard laughed. “Why not?”

“You already wore me out.”

“I hope not. What will we do for the next fifty years, then?”

Jenna went completely still and Gard’s heart plummeted.

“I’m sorry,” Gard said quickly. “I’m getting a little ahead of things, aren’t I?” She started to move away and Jenna’s hand clamped onto the back of her neck, keeping her from escaping.

“No,” Jenna said, “you’re not getting ahead of anything. Except I don’t remember hearing a proposal of any kind from you.”

“Proposal, as in—uh—offering a plan?”

“Not exactly.”

“A proposition?”

Jenna laughed. “Not exactly.”

Gard propped herself up on her elbow so she could read Jenna’s face. Jenna’s eyes were trusting, completely undefended. Jesus, she was brave. Gard traced the curve of Jenna’s brow, the arch of her cheek, the gentle line of her jaw. She kissed her mouth, tenderly.

“I love you,” Gard said. “I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes, exactly that,” Jenna said. “And the answer is yes.”

“What about New York?”

Jenna smiled. “Is it going somewhere?”

“Are you?”

Jenna brushed her fingers through Gard’s hair. “Now and then, I suppose I will. You know I travel a lot. I need to do that for my work. But I’m never leaving you.”

Gard nodded, waiting.

“I’ll keep my place in Manhattan. It’s convenient and a lot of events take place there.”

“People know me there, Jenna. We were big news. Maybe not me personally, but my family—”

“I don’t care about that,” Jenna said.

“I care. I’m willing to bet Alice cares.” Gard saw instantly she was right, even though Jenna tried to hide it. “She told you to stay away from me, didn’t she?”

“Alice worries too much.”

Gard started to sit up and Jenna grabbed her and yanked her down until they were lying face-to-face again.

“Don’t you dare pull away from me now,” Jenna said, but there was no heat in her voice. Only tenderness. “Alice was concerned at first, you’re right. But she cares about me and she knows I love you. She’ll be on our side.”

“I want her to worry about you.” Gard caressed her cheek. “Don’t tell me my past, my reputation, isn’t going to hurt your career.”

“My personal life is my own business. And I am nothing except proud of you.” Jenna’s eyes flashed. “My career is very important to me, but you’re much more than that. You’re everything to me. If there’s trouble—any kind of trouble—tomorrow, next year, fifty years from now—we’ll handle it together.”

“Oh Jesus, I love you,” Gard whispered. “The only thing I need is for you to love me. No one, nothing means more.”

“And all I need is for you to trust me. Trust me to always believe in you. Because I do.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone about me,” Gard said.

Jenna frowned and storm clouds rolled through her eyes. “Now you’re pissing me off. Besides insulting me. I love you. I want everyone to know—well, maybe not everyone.” Jenna kissed her. “I love you. Don’t be an idiot.”

“That will take some doing.”

“I know. But we’ve got time to work on it.”

“What about Birch Hill?”

“Where do you want to live?” Jenna asked.

“At Birch Hill. I’ll sell this place. It’s a great house, but that farm is your home.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. It’s the Hardy homestead. That’s where we belong.”

“We’ll live there.” Jenna drew Gard’s hand to her heart, placed her palm over Gard’s, and kissed her. “But here is where we belong.”

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