“It’s some kind of protective biologic mechanism,” Tory advised sleepily. “Like labor. If women had clear memories of giving birth, they’d only do it once.” She rubbed her hand over Reese’s stomach, then indolently rested her ringers between Reese’s legs not to arouse, merely to possess. “And if we really thought about how great making love was, we’d probably never get out of bed. We’d lose our jobs, end up on the streets, and our children would starve.”
“If you don’t move your hand,” Reese growled halfheartedly, “my job is going to be in jeopardy. I’ve got twenty-five minutes before my shift starts, and I still have to shower.”
Tory merely burrowed closer and flung her leg over Reese’s thighs. “Tell me after all those years in the Marines that you can’t be ready in five minutes.”
Reese caught Tory’s hand before she really did forget what she needed to do. “Rolling out of the rack is a little bit different than this.”
“Mmm, I should hope so.” Lazily, Tory nuzzled Reese’s shoulder and bit down on the firm muscle, eliciting a groan that was more pleasure than pain. Then, relenting, she rolled away. “All right. Go now. I won’t be responsible for my actions otherwise.”
With a sigh, Reese swung her legs over the side of the bed, stood, and headed for the bathroom. As she reached in to turn on the shower, she heard Tory behind her in the doorway. She looked over her shoulder at her naked lover. Tory’s face was soft with the aftermath of their lovemaking, her body lush with motherhood.
Reese’s stomach clenched and another flood of wanting coursed through her. “Tor. For God’s sake. Give me a break here.”
The corner of Tory’s mouth lifted with satisfaction. “I was just going to talk to you while you got ready. I won’t touch.”
“Promise?”
“Can I wash your back?”
“No.”
“You’re no fun at all.” Tory pulled a robe off the back of the door and shrugged it on. “Safe enough now?”
“Just stay out there,” Reese said threateningly as she stepped under the spray.
Tory plunked herself down on the closed toilet lid as the bathroom filled with warm steam. “What were you saying earlier about Bri?”
Reese stuck her head out of the water. “Huh?”
“Bri. You said something about Bri and Allie before.”
“Oh yeah,” Reese shouted above the sound of drumming water. “They left together after class today on Bri’s bike.”
Tory waited until Reese finished her shower and stepped out to reply. “What about it?”
“Allie was plastered to her.”
“At the dojo?”
“No,” Reese said testily as she toweled her hair. “On the bike. You know, arms around her waist, pressed up against her back.”
“I think that’s kind of required on a motorcycle.”
Reese tossed the towel into the hamper. “Bri should know better.”
Tory’s expression grew serious. “Honey, it makes sense for them to be friends. They’re the same age, they’re both police officers, they’re both lesbians. It’s probably completely innocent.”
“And what if it isn’t?”
“Bri is pretty young still, and so is Caroline, for that matter. Caroline being in Paris for most of this school year is going to test their relationship, perhaps even more than it can withstand.” Tory rose, reached for another towel, and stepped around to dry Reese’s back. Then, appreciating her lover’s worry by the stiff set of her back, she threaded both arms around her waist and rested her cheek between Reese’s shoulder blades. She could hear Reese’s heartbeat, steady and strong and sure. That sound and everything it represented was what she counted on; that was what she had built her hopes and dreams and future upon the solid surety of Reese’s love. She turned her face and kissed Reese’s back. “Remember that Bri worships you. No matter what happens, she’s going to need you on her side.”
“I know.” Reese covered Tory’s hands with her own and sighed. “I just don’t want her to do anything stupid.”
“Try to trust her…and be there for her if she stumbles.” With another kiss between Reese’s shoulder blades, Tory stepped away. “You should get dressed. I can’t seem to keep my hands off you this afternoon, and I know you need to go,”
“I didn’t ask you about how things went at the clinic this morning,” Reese added as she combed her hair.
Tory hesitated, then kissed the tip of Reese’s chin. “Go to work. I’ll tell you when you get home.”
When Reese reached the station, Bri’s motorcycle was parked in the small side lot. The sheriff’s department on Shank Painter Road was a single-story box of a building with the crowded office space taking up the front half and the rear housing several holding cells that were rarely used. Reese stepped inside and scanned the room. Gladys Martin, the day dispatcher, was just gathering her things in preparation for leaving. An efficient, even-tempered middle-aged woman, she looked up at the sound of the door opening and sketched Reese a wave, Bri, in a crisply pressed uniform, sat behind one desk, and a middle-aged man with thick dark hair, winter gray eyes, and wide, strong features occupied another. The broad planes of his face had been tempered in the more refined lines of his daughter’s, but the resemblance was clear. Nelson Parker was the sheriff, Bri’s father, and Reese’s immediate superior.
“‘Lo, Gladys. Anything happening?” Reese asked as she pushed through the creaky gate in the waist-high dividing partition that separated the tiny waiting area from the space beyond that held the officers’ desks, file cabinets, and an industrial-sized coffeepot.
“The biggest excitement we had all day was when a couple of tourists sank one of Flyers’ rental boats out in the middle of the harbor.”
“Huh. That must have taken work. Everybody okay?”
“The tide was out,” she said derisively. “They could practically walk back to shore.”
“Someone take the report?”
“Ted Lewis.”
“Good enough.” She settled behind a desk piled high with papers. A small, silver-framed photo of Tory and Regina sat next to a pencil holder with the emblem of the United States Marine Corps embossed on its side. “Hey, Bri. Afternoon, Chief.”
“Hi, Reese,” Bri replied.
“Conlon,” Nelson grunted as he set aside the report he’d been reviewing. “When you have time, let’s talk about the duty assignments for the weekend.”
Reese held up a sheet of paper that had been divided into neat columns and rows, the grid meticulously filled in with times and names, “Got it right here.”
“Should have known,” Parker muttered to himself. His second in command was the best officer he had ever worked with, arid he’d slowly turned over the day-to-day running of the department to her. The other officers respected her, she worked tirelessly, and she was professionally above reproach. “It’s the last big push of the summer. The town will be jumping.”
“I doubled the swing and night shifts. That means overtime.”
The big man grimaced as he took the schedule from Reese. “Fine.” He fumbled on his desk for his Turns and chewed one absently. “Who did you assign as Tremont’s training officer?”
Bri’s head came up as she regarded Reese and her father intently.
“Lyons. They’ll work the swing Friday and Saturday,”
“What about me?” Bri asked quietly.
“You’ll ride with me,” Reese replied.
“Yes, ma’am,” Bri said with a smile and went back to her review of the updated firearms manual. She wouldn’t have minded riding with Allie, but she knew Reese would never put two rookies together. Even though technically she wasn’t a rookie. She had a solid three months under her belt and she’d taken fire. Still, if anybody was going to partner with Reese, she wanted it to be her. She pointedly ignored the faint twinge of jealousy she’d felt when she’d thought Reese might take over Allie’s training herself mostly because she didn’t know which one of them she’d been jealous over.
Chapter Three
“Wanna drive?” Reese asked as she and Bri walked to the patrol car after finishing an early dinner of fish and chips at one of the takeout stands on MacMillan Wharf.
“Yes, ma’am!” Grinning, Bri caught the keys one-handed and jumped behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“Let’s take another slow run through town.” Reese fastened her seat belt and angled her back against the door so that she could look out the windshield as well as see Bri. “So, did you get a chance to tell Caroline about your test?”
The corner of Bri’s mouth dipped but she kept her voice light. “Not yet. I called, but the time difference is a killer. Half the time I can’t catch her in or I wake her up.” She sighed. “Plus, even with cheap rates, long distance gets really expensive, and now that I have to pay for the apartment all by myself, we’re trying to be careful. I sent her an e-mail, though.”
Reese nodded sympathetically, eyeing the cluster of scantily clad men clogging Commercial Street in front of the Boatslip. The afternoon tea dance had just let out, and the night’s revelry was about to begin in earnest. Despite the fact that Provincetown in the summer was filled to overflowing with vacationers and day-trippers, there was very little public drunkenness or disorderly conduct. The town didn’t need a very big jail, because crimes requiring detention occurred very rarely. However, crowd control, the increase in drug use among both the town’s youth and tourists, and vehicular accidents kept Reese and the other members of the department busy. As Bri carefully maneuvered through the oblivious throngs, Reese asked, “Is she settling in okay?”
Bri kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, her hands clenched on the wheel. “Yes, as near as I can tell. It hasn’t even been a month yet.” But it feels like forever.
“It’s tough,” Reese remarked, “that she’s so far away. It probably wasn’t as bad earlier this year when she was in Manhattan and you were here.”
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