After knowing each other barely five months, dare she mention divorce? Was she ready to

sever her ties with Craig? Was she ready to cause a rift with Angie? But perhaps she was

premature. Had divorce even crossed Carrie's mind? Jill stared, waiting for the pale blue

eyes to look up, waiting for them to look into her very soul.

And they did. And as always—when those eyes held her—she was convinced she'd stared

into them many lifetimes ago.

Carrie finally smiled, releasing her. "I think I threatened you with fishing, didn't I?"

Jill relaxed, sensing Carrie had tired of their talk. So she let it go with a wave of her hand.

"And threatened is the appropriate word," Jill agreed.

"By the middle of summer, I'll have you begging to go fishing. And in the canoe, no less."

Carrie stood and motioned to the table. "If you'll pack all this back into the basket, I'll go

get the fishing poles and worms."

Jill's eyes widened. "Worms?"

Carrie just grinned as she walked back toward the garage. Jill cleaned up from their lunch,

her mind still locked on a dirty, wiggly worm.

"Surely she doesn't expect me to touch them," she muttered.

"It's just a worm," Carrie said patiently.

Jill shook her head. "Not doing it."

"Why not?"

"Well, gross and disgusting come to mind."

"I suppose if you catch a fish you'll want me to take it off of the hook for you too?"

"Trust me, I will not catch a fish."

"Don't be so sure. I always catch fish here off the pier," Carrie said and Jill watched in

revulsion as she weaved the nasty worm around the hook.

"That has got to be one of the grossest things I've seen in awhile," Jill murmured.

"You never went fishing as a kid?"

Jill shook her head. "City girl."

"Ah. Well, my grandfather loved it. Whenever I'd go stay with them, he'd take me out

fishing. I was the only grandkid for the longest time so it was just me and him."

"Your boys?"

Carrie shook her head. "No. They never seemed to care for it. And part of that is James.

When they were little, he never took the time to do things like that with them." She

handed Jill the pole. "Now, just gently toss the line out."

"And if the yellow thing goes under, that's good, right?"

Carrie laughed. "Bobber. And yeah, that's good. Unless, of course, you're the fish," she

added.

Jill sat quietly, patiently watching the bobber as it floated harmlessly on the water, part

of her wishing the damn thing would go under so she could say she caught a fish. Of course

the sane part of her prayed for no such thing. But a few minutes later when Carrie's

bobber plunged under water, Jill stared excitedly as Carrie gripped the pole with both

hands and lifted it up. Out of the water came what Jill assumed was a nice-sized fish, but

before Carrie could get a net under it, the fish flipped in the air and dove back into the

water.

"Oh, no," she said. "He was right there."

"Yeah. He was a good one too," Carrie said. Then she pointed at Jill's own line. "Look. See

how it's moving? You probably have a perch or something nibbling at the worm."

Jill tensed, her grip tightening on the pole. "What does that mean?" But before Carrie

could answer, her yellow bobber disappeared. "Oh my God!"

"Pull it up, pull it up," Carrie said as she stood beside her. "Easy."

But Jill jerked the line, sending her sprawling backward as the fish was flung over their

heads and behind them. Carrie grabbed the line, holding the fish off the ground, a huge

grin on her face.

"See? I told you you'd catch something."

Jill stared at the tiny fish then looked at Carrie. "Now what?"

Carrie moved the fish closer. "Now you take it off the hook."

Jill's eyes widened and she shook her head. "No way."

"But that's part of fishing, my dear. You catch something, you take it off the hook."

"Okay, not that I have anything against fish—I prefer them grilled—but I'm not touching

that slimy little thing."

"And so you want me to?"

"Uh-huh," Jill nodded.

"You want to at least watch?"

"Nope."

But she did, staring as Carrie wrapped a hand around the fish to hold him still, then with

the other hand, pulled and twisted the hook, trying to dislodge it.

"You're hurting him, aren't you?"

"I'll tell you what every fisherman would tell you. They don't feel a thing." Then she

grinned. "I'm sure it hurts less than if you grilled him."

Finally the fish was free and Carrie dropped the line, walking slowly to the edge of the

pier, kneeling down and gently placing the fish back in the water. Jill watched in fascination

as the tiny fish flipped his tail and swam away.

"Oh, that was so sweet," she said seriously. "You didn't hurt him. That's why I love you—"

she stopped, her eyes wide. She slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that

like... well, I didn't mean—"

Carrie walked closer, her eyes pinning Jill.

"You love me?" she whispered.

Jill swallowed nervously, her mind racing. "I—I—"

Carrie tilted her head but said nothing, waiting.

Jill shrugged. "Is that what this is, Carrie?" Jill asked quietly. "Is this love?"

"We both know, don't we?" Carrie took her hands, holding them tight. "We're... we're

connected somehow. It's beyond friendship, beyond this physical attraction we have. And

Jill, it's so, so different than what we both have now. Isn't it?" She bent closer, lightly

brushing Jill's lips with her own. "I can't explain it any more than you can." She took Jill's

hand and placed it over her heart. "But I know it. I feel it."

"Yes." Jill closed her eyes briefly. "Yes, I feel it."

"Is it love?"

Jill nodded, her smile soft, sure. "Yes. Yes it is."

And she didn't hesitate the slightest bit when Carrie pulled on her hand, leading her up the

walk and to the cottage. They both tugged at clothing, dropping it where they may. But it

wasn't the bedroom Carrie pulled her into. It was the bathroom, with its bright red walls

and huge walk-in shower.

"Gardening and fish," Carrie reminded her as she turned the water on full blast.

"Wouldn't have cared," Jill murmured as she pulled Carrie into the shower with her, wet

skin sliding together as they embraced. Jill tasted the hint of wine on Carrie's tongue as

she drew it into her mouth. Her hands wouldn't still as they moved across Carrie's skin,

sliding along her spine to cup her buttocks and pull her flush against her. Carrie's hands,

full of liquid soap, moved between them, lightly caressing Jill's breasts with soapy bubbles

before moving lower. Jill's legs parted, an audible gasp left her when Carrie's fingers

touched her. Their eyes held, fused together by a passion neither could explain. Jill's

mouth opened as she struggled to draw breath, Carrie's fingers were relentless as they

moved against her.

Jill's knees weakened and she braced herself, both arms spread out, holding herself

upright against the shower walls as Carrie's mouth moved to her breast, her tongue hard

against her nipple.

"I love when you do that," Jill whispered.

Carrie raised her head, her pale blue eyes dark with desire, her short salt-and-pepper hair

damp from the spray. Her hands stilled, pulling away before grasping Jill's hips and turning

her around. Carrie came up behind her, pressing hard against her buttocks as her hands

reached around Jill to pull her firmly against her.

Jill moaned, feeling Carrie's breasts pressed against her back. Carrie's hands moved lower,

spreading Jill's thighs again, her fingers moving leisurely through her wetness, brushing

against her clit, causing Jill to groan deep in her throat. Her hips moved, rocking slowly,

feeling the brush of Carrie's fingers as she pitched against her.

"Please," she whimpered.

Carrie bit down gently on her shoulder, her own hips rocking, moving in rhythm with Jill.

"Slowly," Carrie whispered into her ear.

And they did, their bodies moving as one, Jill arching forward to feel the delicious brush of

Carrie's fingers against her hot center then back, meeting Carrie's thrust as Carrie ground

against her. Slowly, slowly, then—as their breathing grew ragged—their motions increased,

their hips working together, moving in unison, faster and faster, harder and harder until

Jill was rocking back, loving the feel of Carrie as she pounded against her, loving the thrill

of their dance, the tease of Carrie's fingers, the hot desire that shot through her with

each stroke.

"Oh, God, Carrie... don't stop," Jill begged. "Don't stop, don't stop," she panted as their

hips moved ferociously against each other. With eyes squeezed shut... that moment, that

tiny moment between exhilaration and ecstasy, that one moment where everything stops...

that moment held Jill suspended in time, stealing the breath from her, stealing the light

from her eyes. That tiny moment seemed to last an eternity before releasing her, her

breath expelled from deep in her gut, her body nearly convulsing as her orgasm echoed