Dar got up and circled the desk, then crouched down next to her, her features almost wholly in shadow as she blocked the light from the candle.

“You don’t have to do what they want, you know that, right?”

Kerry’s eyes held a quiet, shuttered sorrow. “It’s easy for you to say that.”

She laid her cheek against her forearm. “It’s a lot harder for me to live it.” She blinked a few times. “I feel like I have a responsibility to them.”

Dar sat down and leaned back against the couch, facing away from her younger companion. “I used to believe that, too,” she murmured. “After my father died, I thought my responsibility was taking care of my mother. I was going to give up this job, move to Richmond…”

Kerry gazed at the dark, sleek head inches from her face. Almost hypnotized, she watched her fingers reach out and tangle themselves in an errant lock. “Why didn’t you?” she asked softly.

“She told me she didn’t want anything to do with me.” Dar’s voice was quiet but matter-of-fact. “I reminded her too much of what she’d lost.” Feeling a slight tug on her hair, she turned her head and glanced at Kerry. “That’s when I figured out the only person I was ever going to be responsible for was myself.” She held the younger woman’s eyes. “Follow your heart, Kerry, don’t 132 Melissa Good live for someone else’s dreams.”

It was the closest they’d ever been to each other, mere inches separating them, so close they were breathing the same air. So close Kerry could see the faint, almost invisible scar just above Dar’s right eye, and the crystal clarity—

even in the low light—of her pale blue irises. She became aware of a sound that she only later realized was her own heartbeat, hammering in her ears in irregular rhythm. “I-I’ll try to…to keep that in mind,” she stuttered.

Dar turned her eyes towards the door and broke the tension. “Can I interest you in more of that peanut stuff?”

Kerry swallowed a few times. “Um, sure. They were small plates.”

They exchanged wry glances then laughed in thinly veiled relief.

DAR LEANED HER head out of the window, studying the worsening weather. The trees outside were almost obscured by rain, and the wind was pulling branches from them, slapping the leaves against the building and leaving dark green streaks against the wall’s surface.

A wet, cool breeze blew her hair back, and she turned her face into it for some relief. She’d opened a window on the opposite side of the apartment to get a cross-breeze, but it was still very stuffy inside, and scarfing down the spicy stir fry hadn’t helped matters. Dar glanced behind her to where Kerry was lying on the floor, her hands folded over her slim waist and her eyes closed. Even from where she was, in the flickering light Dar could see the sheen of sweat on the younger woman’s face, and she felt a twinge of sympathy as a droplet trickled down from her own temple.

It was well past midnight, but sleeping was almost impossible, at least for Dar, who was used to the air-conditioned peace of her water bed-equipped room. She enjoyed her comforts and didn’t mind admitting that—roughing it in the outdoors with bugs and snakes was not her idea of a good time. With a sigh, she rested her chin on the windowsill, and put up with the soft mist of water which drenched her skin.

Still, she was glad Kerry was there. She was getting to feel comfortable with her, too—a slow, insidious relaxation of her usually very stiff and very prickly outer shell, that she was only half-heartedly trying to stop.

“Anything interesting out there?” Kerry’s voice floated up softly.

“Rain and wind,” Dar replied in a mumble. “It’s just a little cooler, though.” She felt a warmth at her back, and instinctively moved over to make room as Kerry sidled up next to her, poking her nose out into the darkness.

“See?”

Kerry hitched herself up and leaned out, shaking her blonde head as rain dripped on it. “God, you can’t see a thing…not even lights from the city.” She tipped further forward and felt a sudden, warm pressure against her back as Dar stuck a hand out to make sure she didn’t fall over. Despite her overheated state, it felt good, a comfortingly safe sensation that made her bold enough to lean out a little further, to see what she could see.

“Hey, careful,” Dar warned, moving a little closer just in case she was needed. Kerry now had her entire head out in the rain, and she was peering around with interest. The wind was blowing her dampened hair back and she Tropical Storm 133

looked, for a moment, very much like a cocker spaniel enjoying a drive.

“Wow, look at those palm trees, Dar!” Kerry lifted one hand and pointed, then grabbed the sill again. “They’re almost going sideways!”

“You’re almost going sideways,” Dar protested, tucking her arm securely around Kerry’s waist and leaning out on one elbow. “Oh yeah, I see them.

Hey, watch it!” She pulled herself backwards, dragging Kerry with her as a coconut slammed against the windowsill, leaving a brown scuff. She could feel laughter under her tensed arm, and she released her companion with a belated start. “You could have gotten beaned in the head, Kerry!”

“What a great story that would have made.” Kerry giggled. “Can you imagine? I come in Monday with a bandage on my head, and have to tell everyone I got smacked by a flying coconut whizzing by your window.”

Dar chuckled in reaction. “That would be a little hard to explain,” she admitted. “This freak storm’s going to be hard enough to recover from—Mark had to spend six hours just doing unplanned backups, not to mention transferring operations up to Charlotte.”

Kerry shook herself rapidly, scattering droplets of water all over Dar and the carpet. “Oh.” She lifted a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry, Dar.”

The older woman started laughing. “You’re more fun than a puppy, you know that?” She shook her head and went to a closet just outside the study, coming back with a fluffy, pale blue towel and handing it to her. “Here.”

The towel was soft, and smelled freshly laundered. Kerry buried her face in it, then dried herself off with quiet contentment. She looked up at Dar from under damp eyelashes and even damper bangs. “More fun than a puppy, huh?” There was, she was alert enough to recognize, definitely some chemistry going on between them. A dynamic, shifting feeling that was half playfulness and half something deeper, more serious.

Dar was her boss. She knew she couldn’t forget that. But she also knew the tall, dark-haired woman was becoming a friend, and she had no intention of putting a stop to that either. Dar was too interesting, too complex a challenge for her to pass up. She wanted to know more about her, to know why she did what she did. So many people were shallow, so easy for Kerry to read that they were almost boring. Dar…fascinated her. Just being around the woman, she felt a thrill of adventure.

Kerry liked that. Just like she adored roller coasters, and fast racing boats, and steep downhill skiing. She glanced up at Dar through her bangs and grinned. Then she barked like a dog.

Dar just put a hand over her eyes and laughed. “I think this weather’s bringing out an unexpected side to you.” She picked up the candle and motioned Kerry towards the door. “C’mon, no sense in letting a perfectly good half gallon of ice cream melt.”

“Ice cream?” Kerry finished toweling herself off and let the terrycloth drape around her neck as she followed Dar into the dark living room. “Let me guess…another of your food groups?” Following the candle, she padded into the kitchen and stopped just short of crashing into her companion. Dar had opened the still, quiet freezer and pulled something out, bringing a wave of icy cold air with it. “Ooo, can we just climb in there?”


134 Melissa Good

“No.” Dar closed the door and felt around in a nearby drawer, retrieving two spoons. “Here, hold this.” She handed Kerry the candle and gave her a nudge back towards the study. “Espresso chip, it’s great.”

They put the container on the floor and sat down on the carpet facing each other, armed with their spoons. Dar took the first spoonful and sucked on it happily.

Kerry put a bit on her spoon and tasted it, then grinned. “Ooo.” They shared in silence for a few moments, then Kerry shifted a little, resting her elbows on her knees. “So, um, the picture up there. Is that a karate kind of thing you were doing?”

“Tae kwan do,” Dar replied offhandedly. “Yeah.”

Green eyes studied her curiously. “You still do it?”

Dar took another spoonful before she answered. “Yes, among other things. I tried out a few different disciplines. I mostly keep to that, with a little judo and jujitsu mixed in.” She chuckled. “They’re old-fashioned and not the trendy stuff, but I like the traditions.”

“Must take a lot of practice. My brother was involved in that for a few years. He got up to a…” Kerry thought, “…a brown belt, but he stopped doing it for a year, then tried to go back, didn’t work.”

“Most every night, I meet a trainer over at the island gym. We work for about two hours, depends on what’s been going on that day.” A faint smile chased Dar’s lips. “Sometimes I’m more in the mood for the rough stuff.”

“Oh, I get it—stress relief.” Kerry scooped up a spoonful of creamy treat.

“That sounds like a good idea,” she said.

Dar nodded. “Yeah, it is. I get my frustrations out and it’s not so tempting to go over the table at someone in one of those damn meetings.” She studied Kerry quietly. “It helps clear your mind, too, and it comes in handy in places like Miami.” Her eyes twinkled gravely. “You might want to think about picking up a class around your neck of the woods.”