“I know, and I’m glad.” Mari tapped a finger on Glenn’s knee. “So, blueberry or cinnamon?”
“Sorry?” Glenn murmured, entranced by the pulse of energy traveling up her leg every time Mari touched her.
“Blueberry muffin or cinnamon roll?”
“Lila’s?” Glenn dragged her gaze away from Mari’s hand, barely grazing her leg now. Why could she still feel it so strongly? She had to stop looking. If she didn’t, in another second she was going to cover Mari’s hand with hers and press Mari’s fingers harder against her thigh. Pull Mari a little closer.
“Mm-hmm.” Mari’s soft voice slipped over Glenn’s skin, fraying the threads of her sanity.
“Any chance of both?” Glenn whispered.
Mari laughed, fingertips trailing lightly over Glenn’s denim-clad thigh for just an instant. “Not with those two in there raiding the kitchen, but I’ll see what I can salvage.”
“I can wait until later to eat,” Glenn blurted. Just don’t move. Just…stay.
“I’m sure you can, but you’re not going to. Just in case, let me get you something to hold you over.” Mari smiled. “Be right back.”
“Be careful.” Glenn’s voice had a faraway ring, as if she were speaking down a long tunnel. As if she had drifted somewhere else.
Mari paused, waiting for the time slip to pass. Waiting to be sure Glenn was completely with her. “I’ll just be a minute.”
Glenn shuddered lightly, as if emerging from a half dream. “I’ll be right here.”
“Good.” Mari left Glenn still perched on the railing, enjoying taking care of her more than she’d imagined. Of course, Glenn had been looking after her pretty much since they’d met, so returning the favor was only natural. And driving the haunted mists from Glenn’s eyes gave her a bone-deep satisfaction she’d never encountered before. She pushed through the screen door, suddenly eager to get back to her.
Blake and Margie perched on stools at the big wooden center island with glasses of milk and guilty expressions.
Mari said, “Did you two leave anything besides crumbs?”
They froze like deer in headlights, each glancing at the other as if for rescue.
“Um…” Margie mumbled.
“I think there’s a couple left.” Blake glanced at the snowy white towel covering the wicker basket on the side counter anxiously. “Maybe.”
“I suppose I could hunt up Lila for instructions on how to make more,” Mari murmured as she checked out the remnants. She found an entire blueberry muffin hidden in a fold of linen and half a cinnamon scone surgically sliced in two. She was surprised to find that much.
Behind her, the sound of wood scraping on the rough stone floor and thudding footsteps signaled the rapid escape of the teenagers. The two of them made her heart hurt, happiness warring with loss. She missed her younger brothers, but the pleasure of being around two such young, vital, and enthusiastic teens warmed her. Smiling, she grabbed a couple of paper napkins, piled her trophies onto them, and carried them victoriously back outside. As she passed Carrie she leaned down. “I’m going to ride over to the barbecue with Glenn, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure.” Carrie shot a glance at Glenn and grinned. “You’d better feed her. She looks…hungry.”
Mari glanced over and heat flashed up her throat. Glenn was staring at her, and her expression for once was anything but cool and remote. Her eyes burned, and not with any half-remembered hell, but something clear and present and very much now. Hungry was a mild word for her unmasked desire.
“I have Lila’s muffins,” Mari murmured, transfixed.
“That might not be enough.”
Not enough. Mari jolted. What was she doing, playing at a game she couldn’t fully join. Playing with a woman who deserved so much more than that. “I know.”
Mari pulled her tattered senses together, joined Glenn, and pretended she hadn’t noticed the gathering storm brewing between them for the past few minutes. She held out the napkin to Glenn. “All that remains of the spoils.”
Laughing, Glenn broke the muffin in half and held out a portion to Mari. “Want some?”
You have no idea. Lord, neither do I. Mari groaned and patted her stomach. “I do, but I’ve already had more than my quota. You go ahead. If you were up all night and you ran this morning, you can handle the carbs.”
“Do you moonlight as a personal trainer?” Glenn asked around a giant bite of blueberry muffin. She closed her eyes and gave a small moan of appreciation. “These can’t possibly be legal.”
“I know, that’s why I can’t eat another bite. And no, I’m far from a fitness nut, but I’ve always been interested in nutrition, and after last year…” Mari surprised herself at how easily she talked about her illness with Glenn. Just knowing that Glenn knew freed her in a way she hadn’t imagined would be possible.
Glenn stopped eating. “What? What about last year?”
“Nothing really. Just that nothing much tasted worth eating for a while,” Mari said lightly, determined not to cast another shadow in Glenn’s eyes. “I try to pay attention to what I’m eating, but there’s some things that you just can’t relegate to a calorie count. Lila’s cooking appears to be one of them.”
“I agree. If you can’t indulge in life’s pleasures every once in a while, what’s the point.”
“Indeed,” Mari said softly.
A minute later, Glenn wiped her hands on the napkin, balled it up, and shot it into a milk pail that doubled as a trash can next to the back door. She hopped down and brushed her fingers down Mari’s arm. “Okay? Ready to hit the fairgrounds?”
“Is that where the barbecue is?”
“Yep. The hospital sets up a tent city on part of the grounds.”
“Great. I’m looking forward to it.” Mari waved good-bye to Carrie as she walked with Glenn across the yard to the pickup.
“Whose truck is this, anyhow?” Mari asked.
“The Riverses’ farm truck—anybody who needs it just grabs i—”
“Hey, Glenn,” Margie called from the porch. “Can we ride with you? We’re ready to go.”
Glenn glanced at Mari, one eyebrow quirked. “I guess I was wrong about there being plenty of room. You good with it?”
Mari laughed and nodded.
“Yeah,” Glenn yelled back, “but you’re gonna have to squeeze in.”
“No problem,” Margie and Blake said in unison as they tore across the yard.
Glenn opened the passenger side, pointed to the running board, and cupped Mari’s elbow. “It’s a big step. Slide over to the middle. Those two will have to fit themselves in next to you.”
“All right.” Mari grabbed the handle just inside above the door with one hand. Glenn pressed close beside her, her hand strong and firm on Mari’s bare skin. As she climbed up, Mari pressed her other hand to Glenn’s shoulder to steady herself. Muscles bunched and tightened beneath her fingers. When she looked down, Glenn was looking up at her, the fierce intensity back in her gaze. Mari settled her hip onto the seat and slowly took her hand from Glenn’s shoulder. Glenn’s hand fell away from her arm. Mari’s throat was oddly tight. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
Glenn swung around the cab of the truck while Margie and Blake jumped in next to Mari and slammed the door. Glenn trailed a hand over the edge of the dusty hood, her gait not quite steady. Her thighs trembled as if she’d been running a half marathon and had just hit the wall. Mari had just neatly kicked the feet out from under her, and she’d never seen it coming. Mari was a constant surprise—beautiful, tender and strong, and somehow able to slip at will inside Glenn’s defenses. Glenn didn’t even have to ask herself what she wanted whenever she looked at Mari. She knew with every atom of her being. She’d wanted to kiss her.
Glenn yanked open the door, jumped in, started the engine. “Buckle up, everybody.” She glanced over and saw Margie on Blake’s lap. “That means the two of you too. Figure it out before we get to the road.”
Beside her, Mari had already strapped in. Glenn kept her eyes face front. She wasn’t quite ready to look at her again without broadcasting every damn thing she was feeling. “All set?”
“Yes, fine.”
Mari’s thigh pressed against the outside of Glenn’s, but she had nowhere to move to escape the soul-singeing pressure. She needed to keep her foot on the gas if they were going to go anywhere, but even the slightest movement reminded her that Mari was next to her, very close. She could smell shampoo or perfume or something—a flowery sweet spicy scent that twisted her up and made her want to rub her face over the soft skin that smelled so good. She gripped the wheel until her fingers ached, and even then she could still feel them trembling. She hadn’t been hungry before, but she was ravenous now. And she couldn’t be. Couldn’t do anything about satisfying the need clawing at her insides. Hell, she couldn’t convince herself she wanted to.
Chapter Twenty
Mari watched the fields blur by, an artist’s palette of gold and yellow beneath patches of brilliant blue and gleaming white. The truck bounced rapidly along over ruts and dips in the cracked macadam road, throwing up clouds of dust that coated the windows and slowly hazed the view. On one side of her, Margie and Blake chattered on about their soon-to-be first day in the ER. Mari only half listened, and the two teens didn’t seem to notice they were the only ones talking, oblivious to the rest of the world as only the young could be. On her other side, Glenn had turned to stone. If she became any more rigid, she’d shatter like a statue left unshielded from the elements for so long its substance had begun to crumble. Mari wanted to touch her, to ease the festering tension, but instinct warned that was exactly the wrong thing to do. Instead, she clenched her hands together in her lap and stared out through the windshield, seeing nothing.
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