“I’ve never been to a woman’s cabin before.” Jett shrugged, a dimple appearing to the right of her mouth. “I’ve never been to the country club, either.”

Tristan rested her hand in the middle of Jett’s back. Jett’s shirt was damp with sweat and she imagined how slick her skin would be underneath it. She could almost taste the salt and feel the heat against her lips. A heavy ache settled in her stomach and her legs trembled.

“Some night when you’re feeling masochistic, I’ll take you.”

“How could I refuse an invitation like that?” Jett brushed a lock of hair from Tristan’s forehead with her fingertips. “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

“Neither did I.”

“How private is private?”

“No motors of any kind on the lake. I suppose we might scare a canoer if one wanders by.”

Jett backed away a step and unbuttoned her shirt. She wore nothing underneath it. The dimple deepened as she watched Tristan’s eyes grow smoky. “You ready to go swimming?”

“More than ready,” Tristan said hoarsely. She started down the gentle slope toward the water, her gaze never leaving Jett as Jett walked beside her, shedding her shirt. Jett was lean, muscle and bone beneath smooth bronze skin. The vee between her breasts was darker than the surrounding skin, left over, Tristan imagined, from the months beneath the broiling sun. A thick pink scar, three or four inches long, stood out on her left shoulder. It was fresh and it wasn’t an incision. Her stomach plummeted. It could only be a wound of some kind. While she knew intellectually that Jett had been in combat, she hadn’t absorbed the true reality. She wondered if anyone who hadn’t been there really could. Jett had not only seen death, she had faced it.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” Jett said, knowing from Tristan’s expression that she had seen the scar. “A little bit of flying debris.”

“I’m sorry.” Tristan gently touched the scar. Jett’s breast, a slightly paler, perfect oval, lay just below her hand, but she didn’t stroke downward to caress it. Jett was baring far more than her body, and Tristan knew it. “Is this the only one?”

“Nothing else but bumps and bruises.” Jett caught Tristan’s hand and held it for a second. “Don’t feel bad. I’m one of the lucky ones.”

“Okay.” Tristan smiled shakily. “I just don’t like thinking about you being hurt.”

“It’s over now.” Jett rarely thought about the wound, because everything else about that night had been so much more critical. When Gail’s face flashed through her mind, she resolutely put the memory aside. Gail wasn’t here now. Gail wasn’t anywhere in her life. And

Tristan was. “Tristan…”

“What?” Tristan took off her shirt by the water’s edge, unzipped her jeans, and pushed them down. Then she kicked off her boat shoes and was naked.

Jett halted with her zipper halfway down, drinking in Tristan’s body. Shorter by an inch, Tristan was more muscular, her thighs and chest thicker. Tristan’s breasts were broader than hers and Jett imagined the weight of them in her hands. As if she had touched them, the dark nipples tightened and Tristan’s breasts rose.

Tristan shuddered in a breath. “I like the way you look at me.”

Jett’s control slipped a notch. They were already on dangerous ground. If she let go, if she touched her, one touch would never be enough. “I don’t know what you’re expecting—”

“Nothing,” Tristan said quickly. “Nothing. Just for us to be here for a while.”

“You’re sure.”

“Take your clothes off. Come in the water.” Tristan turned and dove. She was underwater for a long time, her path marked by faint ripples on the surface.

Jett shed her shoes and the rest of her clothes and waited until Tristan surfaced. Then, marking the spot, she took a breath and followed her. The cool water closed over her, and she swam with her eyes open.

After three strong strokes she saw the pale outline of Tristan’s body in the water. Tristan’s breasts swayed gently, beckoning to her. Jett stroked closer and then surfaced, her body brushing Tristan’s. She scissored her legs between Tristan’s, cupped the back of her neck, and covered Tristan’s mouth with hers. Tristan groaned and wrapped her arms around Jett’s shoulders, opening her mouth to draw her in.

The sun beat down on Jett’s shoulders, but it was nothing like the desert. Water lapped at her throat and cooled her feverish body. And Tristan was nothing like any woman she had ever touched. Her body was powerful and strong, made stronger by her yielding. Tristan broke the kiss and Jett felt teeth on her neck. She tilted her head back and let Tristan take more. When her control snapped and she was seconds from sliding her hand between Tristan’s legs, she grasped Tristan’s shoulders and pushed away from her. She kicked back, dunked her head, and came up flinging the hair from her eyes.

“It’s not physically possible to do what I want to do to you out here,” Jett said.

“How do you know?” Tristan swam toward her, her eyes on fire. “How many women have you fucked in a lake?”

“How do you know that’s what I had in mind?” Jett said.

“If it isn’t, I’m in trouble.” Tristan gripped Jett’s shoulder, kicking gently to stay upright in the water. “Are you going to make me beg you?”

“That’s not what I want. But you might not want what I—”

“Believe me, I do.” Tristan let go and drifted back away from Jett. “But I don’t want you thinking about what I want when you’re making love to me. I don’t want you thinking about anything.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Then we should get our clothes on and I’ll make something to eat.” Tristan stroked swiftly to shore and climbed out of the water.

Jett, treading water slowly, watched her get dressed. Then she made her way in to shore as Tristan climbed the hill toward the cabin.

Pulling her clothes over her wet body, she told herself she’d held back because Tristan didn’t know what she was asking. But there’d been another reason too. Jett walked up the hill, thinking she’d already come too close to completely losing control, and all she’d done was kiss her.

Chapter Eighteen

Quinn parked the Volvo in the shade of the big maples bordering Whitman Park, three blocks from her house. She headed for the largest group of kids she could see, figuring Arly would be in the middle of the pack. A minute later she found Honor on a park bench watching an impromptu soccer game. She sat down next to her, slid an arm behind her shoulders, and kissed her.

“Phyllis told me you and Arly walked over here. How are you feeling?”

Honor sighed and leaned her cheek against Quinn’s shoulder. “Truth?”

Quinn brushed her lips over Honor’s temple. “No, I prefer you lie to me whenever possible.”

“If you didn’t bring the car, you’re going to have to carry me home.”

“Is your incision bothering you?”

“Not really. I’m mostly just out of gas.”

“I figured you might be tired. I drove over.” Quinn stroked Honor’s hair and watched Arly outrun a boy two years older than her, deftly dribbling the soccer ball between her knee and foot. “She’s really good.”

“Give her a ball and she’s in heaven.” Honor rested her hand on Quinn’s thigh. “What if she’s not tall enough for basketball? She’s going to be really upset.”

“She’ll be fine. She can play point guard. That suits her personality better, anyhow.”

“Are you any good at basketball?” Honor asked.

Grinning, Quinn shrugged. “I’m going to have to be.”

“Was Jack all right when Phyllis gave him the bottle?”

“I fed him.” She hugged Honor gently. “Not that I don’t think your breasts are a marvelous invention, but I don’t think he really cares where dinner comes from. He chowed down, no problems.”

Honor laughed. “Good. Because my breasts have other uses, and I’d like to get them back to that sooner rather than later.”

Quinn nuzzled Honor’s ear. “Oh yeah?”

“Children present,” Honor murmured, although she didn’t move away.

“They’re not watching.”

“Behave anyhow. If you tease me and I’m too tired to do anything, I’ll just get cranky.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Quinn kissed Honor’s cheek and drew back before she wanted to do more than she could do outside. “I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

“Somehow the idea of me lying there like a lump doesn’t strike me as sexy.”

“You’re sexy no matter what you’re doing.” Quinn held Honor’s hand. “Besides, I was pretty much a lump when I got home, and you didn’t seem to mind.”

“You were a gorgeous sexy lump. How are you feeling?”

“I got five hours of solid sleep. I’m good.”

Honor rubbed Quinn’s thigh. “I’m glad. Although that wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

“I’m okay,” Quinn said quietly. “Healthstar brought in a preemie with NEC. Things went south pretty fast and we lost her.”

“That’s rough. I’m sorry.” Honor rubbed Quinn’s hand against her cheek. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Quinn sighed. “Better now. Thanks for this morning. It was just what I needed.”

“Baby,” Honor murmured, “that was for me too.”

“Good.”

“Was Linda on last night? She hates it when kids are involved.”

Quinn nodded. “Tristan and Linda did the transfer.”

“I’ll call Linda when we get home. Check in on her.” Honor paused to wave when Arly shouted across the field that she had just made a goal. “I saw Tristan on the way over here. She and Jett were headed off somewhere together.”

“Oh yeah?” Quinn gave Arly a thumbs-up. “Interesting.”

“Is it?” Honor studied Quinn’s grin. “Oh. Huh. Jett doesn’t look like Tristan’s usual.”

“That’s when you have to watch out,” Quinn said. “It’s the ones you don’t expect to get to you who always do.”