Abby’s stomach twisted. She’d been waiting, wondering when, if. God, he wasn’t even sixteen. Everything she’d been able to learn had said the most important criterion for moving ahead was the certainty of the teens themselves. Blake was sure, she believed with her heart and her mind. “What kind?”

“The top.” Blake met her gaze squarely. “Before school starts and I meet a lot of new people.”

“Okay, wait, let me catch up.” Abby stood and leaned against the porch rail, working through a million questions to find the right one. “How much is this about the way you feel physically versus wanting to be accepted in your new school?”

“Does it matter?”

“I’m not sure, maybe. What do you think?”

He frowned. “Remember when I said I wanted to start the hormones, because I wanted to look and feel male?”

“Yes.”

“This is like that—I want my body to match the way I feel about myself, and I’ll feel better if I look like I feel.”

Abby blew out a breath. “It sounds circular, but then it is, isn’t it. Mind and body are fluid.”

Blake grinned, looking relieved and amused. “Mom, you’re thinking too hard.”

“I love you.”

“I know. So—can I talk to Flann?”

“Flann?” Abby’s mind blanked for a second. “You want Flann to do the surgery?”

“Margie said she’s the best.”

“Undoubtedly, but…” Abby pictured Flann during a trauma alert, saw her quick deft hands and certain actions. The surgery itself wasn’t all that dangerous or complicated, and Blake was lucky. He hadn’t had much breast development before the hormones suppressed it. Blake obviously trusted Flann, and so did she. “All right. We’ll start there. Information first, deal?”

“Deal.” Blake looked over his shoulder. The house was small enough to see from the back porch all the way through to the front if the doors were open, which they were to capitalize on any kind of breeze. “Hey! Flann’s here. She brought a bike!”

Blake disappeared and Abby panicked. Flann. She looked down at herself. Oh God. Cut-off sweatpants that seconded as pajama bottoms, a T-shirt that had to be older than Blake—faded and literally see-through in places—and of course, no underwear. She had at least brushed her hair and taken care of other necessary hygienics. Maybe she could just stay out of the way. But then if she hid, she wouldn’t see Flann, and she very much wanted to. If she was honest, she’d been wanting to see her since she’d sent her out of the bedroom.

She folded up the paper, tossed it onto one of the two rocking chairs she and Blake had found in a hardware store down the street, and hurried through the house. Flann and Blake hovered over a bicycle in the front yard. She walked to the edge of the porch and observed their animated expressions. Blake was transformed—his face alight with pleasure. Flann looked Abby’s way, and her smile was as potent as a harpoon striking her in the center of the chest, slowly drawing her toward Flann.

“Good morning,” Abby said, hoping her voice sounded nonchalant despite the piercing pleasure filling up her chest.

“Thought I’d take a chance on finding someone home,” Flann said.

“Mom,” Blake said excitedly, “look at the great bike Flann brought me.”

“It’s super,” Abby said. The bike did indeed fit the description—a newish road bike built for speed. “Flann, that’s an awfully nice bike—I appreciate you lending it—”

“No problem. I’m not using it. Besides”—Flann grinned at Blake—“you gotta have wheels. These will do until you get your license.”

Abby resisted the urge to grind her teeth. She really didn’t need anyone else encouraging Blake in the pleasures of automotion. “Fortunately everything around here is in walking distance.”

“Mostly,” Flann said agreeably. She grinned at Abby. “But then again, a car isn’t just for transportation.”

She folded her arms and gave Flann a pointed frown. “It better be in this family.”

Flann laughed and Blake blushed, although he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard the exchange.

“Keep it as long as you need it,” Flann said. “Really, I don’t use it.”

“Maybe I could buy it,” Blake said.

“Why don’t we discuss a work trade? There’s going to be plenty to do out at Harper’s place.”

“Yeah, I could do that.” Blake looked back at Abby. “Can I go, Mom?”

“Sure. Be back by dinner or call me or—” But he was already on the bike and headed out to the road, waving one arm without looking back. Abby sighed. “I wish it was another year before he gets his license.”

Flann climbed the porch steps. “I know what you mean. I just had the same conversation with my mother about Margie.”

“At least your mother’s had some practice with it. I bet you and Harper were devils behind the wheel.”

Flann brushed a hank of hair out of her eyes, and Abby followed the motion of her hand before skimming her gaze down Flann’s body. Abby’s attention heated her skin, and the memory of Abby’s fingers on her neck when they’d kissed chased away the last of her fatigue. She was instantly very much awake. “Not Harper, she was never wild. She always followed the rules.”

“Not you though, I’ll bet,” Abby said softly. Flann looked tired, shadows under her eyes, her face paler than she’d ever seen her. She even looked thinner, if that was possible after two days.

“No, not me. I’ve never cared for rules.”

“You look like you haven’t caught up on your sleep yet,” Abby said. “You should go home, get some rest.” Abby wanted her to stay, but that was absurd. The woman was probably almost out on her feet, even if she was too macho to admit it.

“I was thinking,” Flann said, although she hadn’t been until just a minute ago. She had a day free and Abby was standing right in front of her and she didn’t want to say good-bye. What she wanted was another kiss, and she wasn’t going to think too hard about why. “There’s a farmers’ market in Saratoga. Maybe you’d like to go, walk around, see what it’s like.”

“If you’ve been up all night—”

Flann took her hand. “I’m fine. Besides, the fresh air will do me a lot more good than rolling around in a hot apartment trying to sleep during the day.”

“No air-conditioning?” Abby said lightly, though all of her attention was focused on Flann’s fingers wrapped around her hand. Flann was probably used to casual contact with women, but she wasn’t. Why couldn’t she seem to do casual around Flann?

“Don’t have any,” Flann said, her eyes drifting from Abby’s face down her body. “I figure I’m never really home much, so why bother. Usually I can sack out in the hospital if I want to.”

“But today you decided to bring Blake a bicycle. That was really kind of you.”

“Nothing kind about it. I like him, and besides, I need him to be able to get around for work.”

Abby laughed and she couldn’t think of a reason to say no. She didn’t even want to think, she just wanted to enjoy a day in the sun with a woman who looked at her like she was delectable. Oh God, her clothes. “I’d love to go to the farmers’ market with you. Give me a minute to change.”

“Why? You look terrific.”

“Sure, if we’re going to a pajama party.” Abby extracted her hand and backed toward the door. Flann followed. “There’s lemonade in the refrigerator. The kitchen’s in the back.”

Flann was very close and her eyes had turned dark and hungry, the way they had right before she’d kissed her. The house was empty and Blake wouldn’t be back for hours. Abby took a breath. “I’ll be right down.”

“All right.” Flann slowly leaned forward, giving Abby time to turn away. She didn’t. Flann kissed her softly, a brush of her lips over Abby’s, repeating the easy caress until Abby’s hand came to her neck again, tugging her a little closer. Flann teased her tongue over Abby’s lips until her control wavered and she was in danger of sliding her hands under Abby’s T-shirt. With another woman, she already would have. She pulled back, her vision a little blurry, the rush of blood in her ears a drumbeat of desire more potent than anything she’d ever known. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting.”

Abby’s lips parted, her pupils wide and black and a wee bit hazy. Her hand dropped from Flann’s neck. “Good.”

Flann leaned against the door and watched her disappear. Today Abby didn’t look as if she wanted to run. She looked as if she wanted to be kissed again. Flann liked that idea herself, although the usual self-satisfaction when a woman signaled she was ready for the game to begin was missing. Maybe because she wasn’t playing a game, or if she was, it was the most important one she’d ever played. Instead of feeling triumphant, she was…nervous. Hell.

She waited on the front porch in one of a pair of wicker chairs set on either side of a small round table, her feet propped on the rail, her body pleasantly simmering, the scent of Abby—some intoxicating blend of honey and sunlight—still clinging to her skin, and watched the world go by. She rarely sat, rarely even slowed down. She liked action. Harper was the one who went in for quiet contemplation. But right this moment, she was as content as she could ever remember being. The sensation was novel, and she was anything but bored. Every cell simmered with excitement.

Women like to be courted.

She didn’t have any experience with that, but she’d never run from a challenge. If that’s what it took to put that drowsy, hot look back in Abby’s eyes again, she’d give it her best.

“You look pretty comfortable there,” Abby said from the doorway.

“I am.” Flann glanced over her shoulder and her mouth went dry.

The pale yellow sundress scooped just low enough to make it abundantly clear Abby had absolutely perfect breasts. Her hair was a golden tangle on her smooth shoulders, her bare arms sleek and bronzed. The flowing skirt hinted at slender thighs, and strappy sandals called attention to her equally elegant calves. Incongruously, each toe was tipped in pale coral.