In My Skin (5 page)

With no clue what was going on, and no option but to climb the stairs or fall on my face, I headed up to the apartment. I was surprised to find there was quite a crowd gathered; Jo and Claire were sitting together on one of the sofas, Max was perched on the coffee table, a middle aged woman was moving around in the kitchen, and a man of about the same age was leaning against the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. Everyone was silent and frowning.

My confusion grew by the second until my eyes came to rest on Chaise, seated on the sofa, her right arm in a sling. I dropped my briefcase and overnight bag and rushed across the room.

"What on earth happened?” I reached out to touch her, but stopped myself mid-movement, afraid that I might hurt her.

Chaise wrapped the fingers of her good hand around my forearm and tugged me down to sit beside her on the sofa. “I had a little spill on the bike.” She smiled in a way that I'm sure she hoped was reassuring, but her eyes were narrowed, and I wondered if she was in pain. “But the way this lot is acting, you would think I had one foot in the grave and the other one on a banana skin!"

I noticed that the knuckles of her left hand were grazed. I lifted the hand and smoothed my thumb lightly over the abrasions. “But how? You're such a good driver."

"Some moron in a Hummer thought he could sweep me off my feet—and he did; right into the gutter. I'm okay, baby, really.” She leaned in and rested her forehead against my temple.

I lifted my hand and ran it through her hair. I realized that my stomach was tight with tension, and not the pleasurable kind of just minutes before. “We'll sue him; by the time I finish with him he'll owe you enough to buy yourself a Harley for every day of the week."

"You say the sweetest things!” She grinned and nudged me with her shoulder. I couldn't help but return the smile.

"Would you two like us to leave?” We looked up in unison, and I saw the unfamiliar woman standing in front of us, a glass of water in one hand, a pill bottle in the other, and a look of mischief in her gray eyes that was so like Chaise's that I knew I was looking at her mother.

Chaise rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, I've been trying to kick you out for an hour.” There was no heat in her words, and her lips twitched at the corners.

"Oh, take your painkillers you ungrateful brat.” Her mother handed over the water and tipped two pills out of the bottle. She turned her attention on me, and I tried not to shrink back under her regard. She seemed to examine me for a couple of minutes with shrewd gray eyes, and I could feel the tension in my stomach increasing by the second. I wanted to reach for Chaise's hand, grip onto it like a life preserver.

I heard Chaise sigh. “Mom, you're freaking out my girlfriend. Why don't you just say ‘
Hello Anna, how nice it is to meet you'
and go home? Dad, can't you make her go away?” Her voice took on a whiny little girl tone, and I would have smiled, but I was too stunned by the use of the girlfriend word to move—even her mother's continued scrutiny wasn't quite as frightening as it had been a moment before.

She called me her girlfriend. I was a girlfriend. I
had
a girlfriend! I was terrified and exhilarated at the same time.

"Sorry, honey, I've been trying to get rid of her for twenty years, but every time I turn around? There she is.” Chaise's dad gave a very theatrical sigh, and laughter broke out in the room.

Clearly used to such teasing, Chaise's mom didn't even blink an eye. Instead she smiled. “Hello, Anna. How nice it is to meet you.” But instead of going home, she sat down beside me on the sofa, clearly intent on more than an exchange of pleasantries. Chaise groaned and let her head fall back against the cushions.

Her dad laughed again and pushed away from the wall, coming toward the sofa. “Come on you lot, let's get out of here and let Anna look after Chaise.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on Chaise's forehead before turning to me. “Anna, why don't you come to dinner at the weekend? Pasta for dinner and an interrogation for desert.” He grinned, and I found myself returning the smile.

"I'd like that, thank you, Mr. Parker."

"Jack, please. And the Grand Inquisitor here is Estelle.” He received a smack to the thigh from his wife, but just grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips before tugging her to her feet.

Estelle allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and settled comfortably under the arm that draped over her shoulders. “I'll look forward to seeing you again, Anna. Perhaps next time we'll actually get to exchange a sentence or two."

I smiled. “That will be nice."

A soft laugh escaped Estelle. “Don't look so terrified, honey. I won't bite you. I'll leave that to my daughter."

"Mom!” Chaise groaned loudly. “Dad, will you please...?"

I knew that I was flushing wildly, but I couldn't help laughing when Estelle winked with exaggerated lewdness at her daughter.

Jack managed to usher his wife from the apartment, and after the guys all took the time to hug Chaise and me, they followed her parents.

When the apartment was quiet, I turned to Chaise and felt my stomach clench uncomfortably at the sight before me. She was leaning back against the cushions, her eyes closed with little white lines radiating out from the edges. I lifted a hand and stroked the soft skin of her cheek.

"So, what's the damage?” I tried to keep my voice light, but my hand was trembling, and for some reason my throat felt like there was a lump in it.

Chaise opened her eyes and smiled at me, raising her good hand to twine our fingers together. She squeezed my hand. “I dislocated my shoulder in the fall and they had to pop it back into place. Aside from that I just have a few bumps and bruises. I'm okay, baby. Don't look so worried."

Feeling stupidly like I wanted to cry, I could only nod.

"But I wouldn't say no to a Harley, if you think you can pull it off.” She was grinning, and the light was back in her eyes.

I laughed—a sound that was more of a sob—and leaned in to press my forehead against hers. “Just say the word, and by the time I get through with the prick he'll have to sell his plasma just to buy his next meal."

"Sounds like a plan. Now, why don't you give me a kiss and help me into the bedroom?” She rolled her eyes. “Not that I'll be much use to you when we get there. Shit, and I was looking forward to fucking that big ole brain of yours out tonight—I should sue him for that alone.” She looked so disgusted that I had to laugh, even as I leaned in and planted and unsatisfying, chaste kiss on her mouth.

I helped her to her feet and through to the bedroom. Between us we got her into a T-shirt and shorts and settled under the covers, but I could tell from the deep crease between her eyebrows that she was in pain, so while the meds kicked in, I made her some soup and fed it to her until her eyes began to droop. When I returned from washing up the dish in the kitchen, Chaise was asleep, her breathing deep and even. Kicking off my shoes and hanging my jacket on the back of a chair, I curled up in the chair and switched on the television to watch the news with the sound muted.

When the only illumination in the room was the light from the TV, I felt my own eyes start to get heavy. Pushing out of the chair, I quietly stripped down to my underwear and slipped under the covers beside Chaise. I worried that I might inadvertently hurt her in the night, but the need to be close to her was strong enough that I would happily have sacrificed sleep just to lie there beside her; to feel her warmth and smell her scent. I turned on my side and laid a hand on her flat stomach, content to just look at her and marvel at this shift in my life.

In an attempt to get Chaise to rest, Sophie banned her from Goddess until the sling was removed. However, Chaise seemed incapable of sitting still for more than a few minutes at a time, and, almost like a sick child, she was very easily bored.

She refused my offer to take a couple of days off work, insisting that it wasn't necessary, then spent most of the day on the phone with me.

The guys came over to Chaise's most evenings, and we played poker, Monopoly and Scrabble while eating copious amounts of pizza.

We went to her parents for dinner and it wasn't nearly as painful as I expected; Jack and Estelle were lovely people who clearly adored their daughter and each other. While Jack cooked dinner—Chaise apparently had inherited her culinary skills from her mother—Estelle took great delight in digging out old photo albums and guiding me through the pictorial history of Chaise Elizabeth Parker.

I was ridiculously pleased when I turned around in court one day, a week later, and found Chaise sitting at the back, sling-free, a big grin on her face and giving me the thumbs up. A couple of minutes later the bailiff handed me a folded piece of paper, and when I opened it and read the note, I almost swallowed my tongue—
You are so hot when you question a witness. You can interrogate me any time.
I forced down a laugh and tucked the note into my pocket.

That evening, less than two seconds after I set foot in the apartment, I found myself pushed up against the wall by the door with Chaise's tongue down my throat and her hand inside my panties.

I'd been so afraid of hurting her that I had insisted on taking things easy until the doctor gave her the all clear, but I couldn't have pulled back from her then if my life had depended on it. We didn't even get up the stairs the first time. With movements that smacked of desperation, Chaise urged me down onto the stairs, pushed up my skirt and tugged off my panties before burying her face between my thighs. I came so fast it was almost embarrassing.

When I had regained the ability to move, I coaxed Chaise into the bedroom, made her comfortable on the bed and used my tongue and fingers to bring her to a gasping orgasm. I still felt a little awkward in my attentions to her, but with her moans and sighs, Chaise always made me feel like the most accomplished lover in the world.

"Are the guys coming over tonight?” I asked as I pushed perspiration damp hair back from her forehead.

"Not if they know what's good for them.” She grinned and pulled me down into a blazing kiss. “If you were hoping to play any games tonight, I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me."

My body responded to the heat in her eyes. “Games? Uh, did you have anything in particular in mind?"

A devious smile lifted one corner of her mouth as she reached out to the night stand. “It just so happens that I got a new toy today..."

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

We were sitting in my car in front of my parents’ house, and I was about to take Chaise to meet my family for the first time. I won't deny that I was more than a bit nervous, that my hands on the steering wheel gripped just a little too tightly, but there was no doubt in me that this was what I wanted to do.

I turned to look at her and my chest tightened in a way that was becoming the norm. I reached over and linked our fingers together, squeezed her hand gently and smiled reassuringly in an attempt to chase away the worried little frown between her eyebrows.

I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “I want to do this. We've been seeing each other for nearly a month now. I want you to meet my family, and I want them to meet you.” What I didn't need to say was that I didn't want Chaise to think that I was hiding our relationship. I'd met her parents a couple of times already, been warmly welcomed into her family, but I had been hesitating to introduce Chaise to my folks. I'd told myself that I just wanted to make sure that my feelings for Chaise were real, lasting, not just a phase I was going through. But the truth was that I was afraid of the reaction of my very traditional family to this situation so far removed from anything they were used to. I grew up in a ‘don't rock the boat’ atmosphere; we avoided confrontation and unpleasantness at all costs. Years of college and practicing as a lawyer had tempered that in me, but where it came to my family, the reluctance to make waves still ran deep. “If you're not comfortable, though, we don't have to.” I'll admit that there was a tiny part of me that would have liked her to say that she would rather just go home, but I wasn't disappointed when she squeezed my hand in return and smiled that smile that made my skin tingle with anticipation.

"Come on, let's go.” She gave me a wink and unclipped her seat belt. She didn't say ‘let's get this over with', but the words resounded in the car none the less.

We walked up the path to my family home, not touching, tension practically crackling between us. At the front door I looked at Chaise and she gave me a nod of encouragement. I took a deep, fortifying breath and knocked on the door.

It was opened almost instantly by my mom, who looked from me to Chaise and back again, and was unable to conceal a flash of disappointment before her inbred good manners took over and a welcoming smile slipped into place. If I hadn't been strung tight as a bow then I might have laughed—I had called mom that morning to tell her that I was coming over and bringing someone with me. She'd clearly thought that I meant a man and had most likely been giddy with excitement at the prospect.

I smiled as brightly as I could and hugged her. “Hi, Ma. This is my friend, Chaise.” The front stoop wasn't the right place to announce Chaise as my lover.

"Hello, dear. Well, come in then, your dad insists on having the air conditioner running full tilt like it costs nothing. I'd rather not pay to cool down the neighborhood.” She made a tutting noise and ushered us inside.

I led Chaise through to the living room where my dad was sitting in his favorite chair by the fireplace, reading the paper. He jumped up the second the door opened, dropped the paper down by the side of the chair and smoothed a hand over the front of his shirt. Mom had clearly made him promise to be on his best behavior.

"Hi, Pop.” I went to him and was wrapped up in a bear hug. “This is Chaise.” I swung my arm out to beckon her over.

Smiling, Chaise held out her hand. “It's good to meet you, Mr. Stuart."

My Dad's a quiet, thoughtful kind of man. He doesn't say much, but his sharp eye sees more than most. This time was no exception. As he took Chaise's hand he gave me a look that told me he knew. My breath caught in my chest as I waited for his reaction, and when he shook Chaise's hand and gave her a warm smile I had never loved him more.