Chapter Fourteen

FRIDAY HAD BEEN a blur for Taylor. Work was incredibly busy, but she had managed a quick trip to the grocery store at lunchtime to pick up what she needed for dinner. She'd even managed to escape her office an hour and a half sooner than usual, not an easy task with the phone ringing off the hook as it had been.

Pleased with herself for leaving when she did, she stood in the kitchen in simple nylon shorts and a T-shirt, chopping zucchini, yellow squash, eggplant, and green peppers for the vegetable lasagna she was going to cook for Melanie. She had taken a bowl of homemade tomato sauce out of the freezer that morning to thaw, and all the remaining ingredients were bagged up and sitting on the kitchen table, complete with a bottle of Riesling from Glenora, Taylor's favorite local winery. A distant rumble of thunder rolled softly across the gray sky as Taylor scooped the diced veggies into a Tupperware bowl and added it to the pile going next door.

She took the cooked strips of pasta out of the strainer where they were cooling in the sink, and deposited them into a Tupperware container as well, adding a little bit of water to keep them from drying out too much. She smiled as she remembered how she used to tease her mom about her plastic bowl collection. She looked up as Ben came in the back door.

" Hi, Dad."

" Hiya, T. How was your day? " Ben was pleased to see his daughter in a good mood.

" Not bad. Not bad at all."

He peered over her shoulder. " Mmm. When do we eat? "

Taylor chuckled. " You can eat whenever you want. There's a little pan in the fridge for you. Pop it in the oven on 375 for about forty-five minutes."

Ben pouted. " What about all this? " He gestured at the bowls and bags, his eyebrows raising at the sight of the wine.

" All this, " Taylor mimicked the sweep of his arm, " is for Melanie and me. I'm cooking her dinner at her place... er, Sam's."

" Oh." A flicker of something crossed his handsome features, and Taylor suddenly wished she hadn't just blurted it out like that.

The flicker was gone in an instant, and he smiled a smile that didn't reach his dark eyes. " Sounds like fun. Tell her I said hello, would you? "

" Sure, Dad."

She watched him depart the kitchen to change out of his suit, and couldn't keep the guilt from creeping up on her, settling on her shoulders like a boa constrictor.

BEN SIGHED AS he loosened his tie and kicked off his wingtips. He was disappointed. He had hoped to take Melanie up on her dinner invitation from the previous weekend, but he'd gotten sidetracked by an overly demanding client. He should have just called her when he'd thought about it. Maybe he would have beaten Taylor to the punch. Beaten Taylor? Listen to yourself, man, he scolded his reflection. You're acting like this is some sort of competition.

Well, it certainly feels like one, the reflection snapped back. Was it? He'd known his daughter was a lesbian, but he had never spoken to her about it. Not once. Not even a mention. He'd always left that subject for Anna. She was so much better at sensitive things. He wondered now if Taylor resented the fact that he'd never talked to her. Maybe he should have. But, what would he say?

" Honey, I know you're gay. Way to go"? No. It was easier for a man like Benjamin Rhodes to let things be. He was not an emotional guy. Taylor knew that. He would always be there for his daughter, no matter what. She knew that, too.

Didn't she?

Now, what to do about Melanie...Maybe she'd be free tomorrow night. He'd give her a call in the morning. He had thought about her quite a lot over the past few days, and was surprised to find that he was anxious for her company once again.

But, did she want his?

He wasn't sure where that thought had come from. He furrowed his graying brows as he pulled on his shorts. She certainly seemed to enjoy his company. And when he'd kissed her, she hadn't pulled away or acted offended.

Still, the thought worried him.

MELANIE CHECKED HER appearance one more time in the bathroom mirror, straightening her T-shirt and running her hands through her hair before hurrying to answer the knock at the front door. The butterflies in her stomach had morphed into flying saucers, and she was annoyed at her own nervousness. It was just dinner, for Christ's sake. It was just Taylor. What was the big deal? She opened the front door.

" Hey." Taylor smiled, her arms full of plastic grocery bags. Melanie laughed at the sight.

" Hey, yourself." She took two of the bags, stepping aside to allow Taylor to enter.

" Did you bring the entire store? " She tried to see what the bags contained. " What's for dinner, dear? "

" Vegetable lasagna. Okay with you? "

" Sounds wonderful."

They lugged their parcels to the small kitchen. Melanie began to snoop in each of them. She yelped in surprise when her hand was slapped playfully.

" Get out of there, " Taylor scolded.

" I was just peeking." Melanie pouted.

If she uses that boo-boo face on me, she'll get anything she wants, Taylor thought with amusement. " No peeking."

" Can't I help? "

" You can pour the wine."

" Okay." She jumped at the task, searching Sam's kitchen drawers until she found the corkscrew. She scrutinized the label carefully. " Glenora. Hmm."

" It's one of our local wineries...well, I say local. It's about forty-five minutes from here on Seneca Lake. There's a whole slew of them around here. Glenora happens to be one of my favorites."

Melanie uncorked the bottle, nodding with appreciation at the aroma that wafted up from the opening. " I don't think I've ever seen a winery."

" Well, we'll have to take care of that then, won't we? My friends and I go on a wine tour every year in the fall. We get a van and one of us is the designated driver. Then, we drive down by the lakes, and hit all the wineries we come across, tasting any samples they'll give us. There are dozens of places, and there's really some good stuff around here."

" That sounds like fun."

" It is. Maybe you could come with us on our next tour."

" Maybe I could."

Melanie smiled up at Taylor, who was smiling back, and handed her a glass of wine. The redhead lifted hers in a toast. " Here's to new friendships."

" To new friendships." They clinked glasses and sipped.

" Oh, that's good, " Melanie commented.

" Told you." Taylor turned back to the counter to work on dinner.

Melanie stood on her tiptoes, and peered over Taylor's shoulder at the pan, which Taylor had coated with a thin layer of sauce and the first level of pasta. She wasn't using any utensils - other than a spoon for the sauce - just her hands.

" Teach me, " Melanie requested softly.

Taylor swallowed hard as Melanie's voice tickled her neck, sending an exciting chill down her spine. Then she nodded. " Okay.

Come here. Stand here." She grasped the older woman's shoulders, stepping aside to position Melanie in front of her.

" This is a lot of stuff, " Melanie noted, taking in the array of bowls, each containing a different ingredient.

" Yeah, but it's no big deal. Lasagna is very easy, just construction. You just have to put it together. It's a layering process. Okay, we've got the first layer of pasta down. Now, grab that bowl and put a little sauce on the strips."

Melanie spooned some sauce onto the pasta. She felt undeniably safe and warm with Taylor pressed against her back. " Like this? "

" Yup. Spread it around a bit." After Melanie did as she was told, Taylor moved on. " Next, some veggies."

" Which ones? " Each vegetable was in a different one of the four bowls.

" You're the cook. Your choice."

" Zucchini, " she stated confidently, reaching for a fork. Taylor caught her hand.

" No, no. Use your hands. A real cook doesn't need utensils. My mom never did. 'That's why God gave you hands, ' she used to say. Use 'em."

Melanie grinned. " Okay, but you have to let go."

" Oh. Right." Taylor snatched her hand away as if Melanie's skin had burned her. " Sorry."

Melanie sprinkled diced zucchini, then peppers, then squash, then eggplant over the pasta. Next came some parmesan cheese, along with a touch of shredded mozzarella. Taylor held her position directly behind Melanie, far too happy there to even think about moving. Every now and then she'd help her sprinkle or straighten or spread, her arms around either side, her lips very close to Melanie's ear.

If I had any idea cooking was this much fun, I’d have taken it up long ago, Melanie thought.

Both women found themselves mildly disappointed when they finished their task.

There was one more sealed bowl on the table that hadn't been opened. " Uh oh, " Melanie said, when she noticed it. " Did we forget something? "

Taylor snatched the bowl away before Melanie could look inside. " Nope. That's a surprise."

" Dessert? " Melanie's eyes lit up.

" Maybe, " Taylor teased as she put the bowl in the refrigerator, and refilled their glasses. " You'll just have to wait and see."

An hour and a half later, they sat on the sofa, slumped and groaning.

" I'm stuffed, " Melanie whined. " God, that was so good."

" I'll say. You're a terrific cook." She winked. " Think you're too stuffed for dessert? It's okay if you are, " she taunted. " I can just take it home. It's no problem."

" Did I say stuffed? " Melanie asked, sitting up straight. " I meant almost stuffed. Not quite stuffed yet."

" Stay here. And no peeking."

Melanie smiled as she watched Taylor's departing form disappear into the kitchen. She couldn't remember when she'd had such a relaxing, comfortable, fun evening. And they hadn't even started watching Xena yet. Taylor wasn't leaving any time soon. The thought warmed her insides.

" Okay, close your eyes, " Taylor ordered from the kitchen.

" What? "

" You heard me. Close 'em."

Melanie did as she was instructed, listening for, then feeling Taylor's presence as she came closer.

" Okay. Open your mouth."

Melanie cocked her head. " Yeah, right. So you can feed me a jalapeno or something? How stupid do I look? "

Taylor chuckled at the hesitation. " I would never do that. Come on. Open up."

Melanie still hesitated, unsure.

Taylor's voice became softer, almost sexy. Their faces were barely inches apart. " Do you trust me, Melanie? " She smiled as she saw Melanie's throat move when she swallowed. The older woman nodded and opened her mouth. Taylor gently deposited the spoon on her tongue and watched her lips close around it. Her eyes popped open, then closed again she moaned sensuously.

" Oh my God. Chocolate mousse. I love chocolate mousse. And this is real whipped cream, isn't it? Do you know how long it's been since I've had real whipped cream and not that Cool Whip crap? " She pried the spoon from Taylor's hand, stealing the bowl as well. " How did you know I love this? "

Taylor shrugged, incredibly pleased with the reaction. " Lucky guess."

Melanie moaned again at the second spoonful. " God, this is good. Where did you get it? "

" I made it."

Melanie blinked at her. " You did not."

" Did, too." She went to the kitchen and returned with her own bowl and spoon, thoroughly proud of herself.

Melanie looked like a little kid, her legs curled up under her body, completely content with her dessert, licking the spoon clean each time. She smiled at Taylor as she sat on the couch next to her. " Thank you."

" My pleasure."

Melanie laughed. " Not this time. This time, the pleasure is mine."

Not entirely, Taylor thought.

TAYLOR WOKE TO the distant rumbling of thunder. It took her several moments to orient herself to her surroundings, finally remembering she was in Melanie's house. Funny how she thought of it as such. After all, Melanie didn't even live here. She was a guest. It was Sam's house. Or was it? It felt so right having Melanie here, like she'd been around all along. Taylor felt an uncomfortable anxiety when she thought of Melanie leaving to go back home.

Taylor could smell the nighttime summer rain through the open screen door, clean and natural, and she knew the world would be sparkling when the sun finally rose. The television was still on, its eerie blue glow bathing the tiny living room in a milky light, not unlike the moon. Miniscule dots of snow danced on the screen and Taylor figured they must have fallen asleep during the last episode, the VCR automatically stopping at the end of the tape. They'd been watching while stretched out on the open sofa bed after Melanie caught Taylor shifting uncomfortably and suggested they pull it out. When they had managed to get as close together as they currently were, Taylor couldn't recall. She swallowed hard, her heart fluttering in her chest as she realized that Melanie was sleeping soundly in her arms.

The older woman was half on top of Taylor, her head tucked snugly under Taylor's chin, pillowed comfortably on her chest, the sweet, peachy fragrance of her hair filling Taylor's nostrils teasingly. Her left arm was draped loosely across Taylor's ribcage, just below—and dangerously close to—her breasts, and her left leg was resting comfortably between Taylor's thighs, as if that was where it belonged. Her breathing was deep and even, the cadence of a soundly sleeping body that effectively pinned Taylor to the bed.

Taylor noticed, although not really to her surprise, that she was as much to blame for their position, as her left arm seemed to have wrapped itself around Melanie's shoulders possessively, ensuring their closeness. Had all this been done during the innocence of slumber? Had they gravitated to each other like this as they slept? Taylor found herself smiling at the notion of their two bodies moving toward one another on some subconscious plane. Well, if you won't be together while you're awake...

She gazed at the arm lying across her body. The unblemished, creamy skin downed very lightly with reddish-blonde hair. She studied the hand, its neatly filed nails, finished with a coat of clear polish. The delicate fingers relaxed against the sheet. She had a flash of that hand on her own body, in her hair, tugging gently. She swallowed hard, moving her eyes to gaze upon the beautiful face that rested on her chest. The glow from the television cast soft shadows, intensifying the angles and planes of Melanie's cheeks, the fullness of her lips. Taylor wet her own lips with her tongue as she tried not to think about how sweet that mouth must taste, how incredible it would be to devour those lips with hers, how intoxicating it would feel to slip her own tongue between them and explore what lay beyond. She tried not to look at the intricate folds of the ear, a diamond stud peeking out from under gold-tinted scarlet strands; tried not to imagine herself whispering into it, telling its owner how amazing Taylor was going to make her feel, flicking it teasingly with her tongue.

Okay, cut it out, her inner voice scolded her. Where is this train of thought getting you? Before she could defend herself against her own mind, Melanie shifted in her sleep, pressing her knee firmly into Taylor's groin. Taylor stifled a gasp, shocked by her own wetness, praying Melanie was sleeping deeply enough that she didn't notice the dampness on her knee that must surely have soaked through the thin fabric of Taylor's shorts. She couldn't remember ever having been so aroused just by being near someone.

And Melanie wasn't even trying.

With massive effort, Taylor managed to get herself to relax, and eventually, she drifted back into a light sleep, knowing the sun would be rising in a short period of time.

The next time she opened her eyes, the sun was streaking through the picture window, a rectangle of yellow light caressing Melanie's bare calf, still draped over Taylor's leg. Taylor was both nervous and delighted that neither of them had abandoned the positions she had discovered them in a few short hours before. They hadn't even shifted slightly.

For some unknown reason, she couldn't bring herself to move. Her mind screamed at her to remedy the situation before Melanie woke up, but her body wouldn't obey her. It was simply way too comfortable, and did its best to shut out the shrieks of her always-smarter-when-it-comes-to-these-things brain. Instead, she listened to her own heartbeat, and felt the other beating so close to hers, with the hand she had rested on the redhead's back. She slowly released a deep sigh of contentment, wishing to the heavens that this didn't feel as good as it did.

Several long minutes passed, and Melanie stirred. Taylor took the opportunity to inhale one last lung full of her sweet-smelling hair, closing her eyes as she did so.

Melanie opened her blue eyes slowly, blinking against the daylight. She took a deep, awakening breath, feeling better than she had since... she couldn't remember. She'd slept so well. She examined the soft cotton T-shirt her head was pillowed on, finding it amusing that she couldn't remember falling asleep. She and Taylor had watched about a zillion episodes of Xena, laughing and discussing each episode, its pros and cons. Melanie remembered finding the tape with the episode titled " The Quill is Mightier." She knew immediately that it was the perfect name for the bookstore. She'd decided not to mention it to Taylor, to surprise her, and...

Her eyes widened as she suddenly became conscious of her body's position. She mentally cataloged all her body parts, as well as what each of them seemed to be atop. She was mortified to realize she had fallen asleep half-on and half-off of Taylor.

She swallowed hard, and slowly raised her head. She felt a mixture of dread, overshadowed by something she didn't want to deal with, but both melted away when she met those gorgeous dark eyes smiling back at her.

" Morning, sleepyhead, " Taylor said.

" Hi." Melanie could immediately feel the blush creeping up her neck, feel her ears turn red. She extricated herself from the tangle of limbs. " I'm sorry about this..." she began, unsure how to finish.

" Oh, no problem." Taylor brushed the comment aside as if shooing a fly. " Did you sleep okay? "

" As a matter of fact, I slept great." She was surprised by the honest admission. Then, she lowered her eyes sheepishly. " I hope you weren't too uncomfortable."

" Actually, I slept like a baby. I don't even remember drifting off."

Melanie smiled at that. " Me neither."

" Hey, listen, " Taylor said a few minutes later, as they worked together to fold up the sofa bed, and straighten the living room, each avoiding further discussion about their bodies' betrayals. " Work has box seats to the Red Wings games, and I've got them for Sunday night. Remember, we drove by Frontier Field? " When Melanie nodded, she continued. " Would you be interested in going with me? " She kept her eyes on the bed she was tidying and babbled on, afraid to look Melanie in the eye. " It's a blast. The seats are great. We can eat hot dogs and cotton candy until we explode."

" Well, how can I possibly refuse an offer like that? " Melanie chuckled.

Taylor's smile lit up her face, and she felt a mix of relief and anxiety. " Game's at seven, so I'll pick you up around six thirty? "

" It's a date." Melanie had to make a conscious effort to keep from wincing at her own choice of words.

SATURDAY MORNING’S SUN didn't last long, and Melanie was treated to some typical, temperamental Rochester weather, complete with gray skies and distantly rumbling thunder that continued on for much of the day.

She was seated at the small kitchen table, legal papers spread out everywhere. She was busy going over the details her uncle had FedEx'd to the bookstore earlier in the week. Though she considered herself relatively savvy in the ways of business proceedings, she was baffled by much of the legalese that lay before her. She was sure everything was as it should be, knowing Uncle Phil, but she didn't like to decorate anything with her signature unless she knew exactly what it was she was signing.

After studying the paperwork for several days, refusing to show this particular weakness by phoning her uncle and simply asking him what certain things meant, she gave in and decided she did, indeed, need some help.

The phone rang just as she was reaching for it, scaring the hell out of her. She sat with her hand over her racing heart for three rings before snatching it up.

" Hello? "

" Melanie? "

" Uh huh."

" It's Ben."

She took a deep breath, her heart rate finally decreasing. " Hi, Ben. Well, this is weird. I was just about to call you."

" You were? " The pleasant surprise in his voice was obvious.

" Yeah. I was wondering if I could pick your brain for a few minutes. I've got the papers for the bookstore from my uncle and there are a couple parts that I'm stuck on. I thought maybe you'd have a better handle on this sort of thing."

" Under one condition."

" What's that? "

" Since I was phoning you to call in my debt, how about we do it over dinner? "

" You're sure? I don't want to bother you with this stuff if you'd rather not deal with it." Melanie hated that she couldn't grasp some of the phrases, didn't like to admit to a lack of understanding. It made her feel dependent, something she despised.

" Not at all, " he assured her in an easy tone. " Why don't you meet me by my car in an hour and bring your papers with you? "

" That would be great." She tried not to let her relief appear in her voice. " Thank you, Ben."

" Certainly. See you soon."

Melanie hung up the phone feeling much more at ease. She gathered up the papers into a neat pile and put them in her briefcase. In doing so, she noticed she still had the Katherine Forrest novel she'd borrowed from the bookstore. She took it out, skimming the synopsis on the back. She held it for several minutes more before setting it carefully on the kitchen table and heading into the bedroom to change her clothes.

Across the yard, Ben was smiling smugly to himself. She'd been about to call, eh? A wave of relief had swept over him at that statement from her. He'd been less than pleased when Taylor had strolled in this morning, whistling as she fixed herself a bowl of disgustingly colorful cereal.

" Glad you could make it home, " he'd remarked sternly, eyes glued to the paper he was reading.

" I was only next door, Dad, " she'd replied, brushing it off as if he were being unreasonable.

" The phone doesn't work over there? "

" Dad, I'm twenty-seven years old. Do I really need to check in with you if I'm having too much fun to come home? "

He'd peered over the newspaper at her, and she'd smiled innocently. Her eyes were twinkling mischievously, masking some secret from him. Having too much fun to come home? He'd had to bite his tongue to keep from asking exactly what she and Melanie had been doing over there.

" No, I suppose not, " he'd replied grudgingly, deciding he didn't really want to know anyway.

When he had decided to ask Melanie to dinner, he was afraid Taylor may have already nabbed her for the evening. He winced at the verb, erasing it from his head with a shake. But, lo and behold, she had been just about to call him. Ha!

Choosing not to analyze the part of him that was still treating Melanie as the prize in a contest between father and daughter, he skipped up the stairs two at a time, trying to decide what he would wear to dinner, feeling like an eighteen-year-old kid. Tonight, he was going to impress the hell out of Melanie Larson.