Indelible (8 page)

Angie glanced at Oliver to make sure he was engrossed in his video game and not their conversation. It was bad enough that he had witnessed part of her exchange with Luna; he didn’t need to hear Tori dissect her potential love life.

“Leather, you say?” Jack stood at the stove stirring a batch of fudge. He was the only person Angie knew who gave in to the craving regardless of the season.

“Yeah, dark brown, not black. Super sexy. You’d want to date her.”

Ack!
Angie had been trying to deny that little nugget, the reason she’d resisted Luna so thoroughly. Jack
would
want to date Luna, and that left an uncomfortable, squishy feeling in Angie’s stomach. She forgot all about it when face-to-face with Luna. Hell, she could forget—or possibly find—anything in those eyes. But sitting in her kitchen, confronted by her father’s history of dating, she couldn’t ignore it. Angie did
not
want to date any of her father’s women.

“I have my hands full at the moment.”

“I mean where do you even
find
pants like that?” Tori asked. “Leathers-R-Us?”

“No.” Jack poured the candy into a pan to cool and wiped his hands on his apron. “There’s a great place on Lombard.”

Jack’s current girlfriend—and every one that came before her—likely shopped at the same stores as Luna.

“Oh, for God’s sake. Can you two talk about something else?” Why the hell had she said yes to Luna? She was not Angie’s type, so why, when she meant to say
no
, did
yes
come out of her mouth?

“We could, but where’s the fun in that?” Jack asked.

Angie lifted her book higher, effectively blocking her view of her father.

“And she had this long brown hair with this sort of wild, loose curl thing going on,” Tori said.

“What kind of brown?” Jack had always been big on details.

Tori dipped a finger into the fudge clinging to the edge of the pot. “Kinda like fudge, actually. It’s all dark and rich.” She popped the finger into her mouth. “God, that’s good.”

“That right?” Jack poured the candy into a pan and offered the spoon to Angie. He ate it himself when she declined. “She have rich, dark hair, Angie?”

“Yes, Dad, she wears sexy leather pants and has wild dark hair.”

Angie’s outburst was lost on her father, and he continued like she’d never commented. “Wait a minute, is this the same woman you were staring at during Oliver’s ball game?”

Crap, that was not a set of dots she wanted her father to connect. “Yes.”

Tori asked, “She was at Oli’s game? Which one?”

“No, she was at her own game. It just happened to be at the same park.”

Tori made another pass at the fudge. “I miss one game and see what happens.”

“I
knew
it.” Jack sat at the kitchen table and pushed a chair out for Tori. She settled in next to him, and they faced each other like two housewives ready to gossip about the neighbors. “Angie denied it, but I could tell there was something between them two.”

“How come you didn’t let me know?” Tori batted at Angie’s arm. “Did you guys talk?”

Angie glared at Tori, then returned her attention to her textbook without answering.

“No.” Jack took up the conversational slack. “They just kept staring at one another. I’ve been around. I know when someone is being cruised.”

That her father even knew the term
cruised
made Angie squirm, especially when he used it regarding her.

“You should see the two of them together. The heat they put off is amazing.”

Jack beamed. “Tori’s right. She’s hot.”

“She’s a lesbian, Dad. You can’t have her.” The irony over her almost-perfect quote of Ruby didn’t escape Angie. Was Ruby’s grasp on Luna as imperfect, nonexistent, even, as Angie’s? Apparently so, since Luna was ready to throw Ruby over the second Angie showed even the tiniest amount of willingness. Yet another reason to not get involved with Luna.

“No, but she’s perfect for you.” Jack’s simple endorsement made Angie want to run.

“I’m going to study in the living room.” Angie closed her book and left the kitchen.

The more her father voiced his approval of Luna, even though it was based on nothing more than appearance, the less sure Angie was about her decision to go out with her. But it was too late to back out now.

Friday, August 14

Luna finished inking a cartoonish rocket circling Saturn. Perez peered over her shoulder. “Looks good.”

“Mmm.” Luna’s brain was bouncing between the grocery store where she’d run into Angie two days ago and the conversation she needed to have with Ruby in a few minutes. The tattoo she’d been working on distracted her in the moment, but when the soothing buzz of the gun stopped, her mind raced off again.

“You plan to add anything else?” Perez asked.

Luna spun the barber chair so the occupant could see the design in the mirror. “What do you think, Stacey?”

“Perfect.” The rocket was Stacey’s latest addition to the space opera canvassing her back and upper shoulders. Luna was proud of her work.

After Stacey paid and ushered her girlfriend outside, Perez asked, “Have you figured out what to say to her?”

“No.” Luna never should have told Perez what she had semi-promised Angie. She still hadn’t figured out how to approach Ruby, but she needed to do it soon. If she didn’t talk to Ruby by the time she picked Angie up for their date on Monday, there definitely wouldn’t be a second.

“Well, you have about fifteen seconds, because here she comes.” Perez gestured toward the small BMW parked along the curb. Ruby was crossing the street.

“Great.” Luna didn’t have another appointment scheduled for two hours.

“You’re doing the right thing.” Perez escaped into the back room as Ruby slithered in the front door.

The endorsement from Perez didn’t mean much. She’d never liked Ruby.

“Hello, lover.” After her customary greeting Ruby stepped in close for a kiss.

Luna stepped back. “We need to talk.” That was not what she meant to say. Nothing good ever started with that phrase. She’d put Ruby on the defensive before she even determined exactly where to take the conversation next.

“Well, that doesn’t sound good.” Ruby evaluated Luna levelly. “Should we go upstairs?”

“No.” Luna didn’t want to be alone with Ruby and a bed. She was weak. Then again, Ruby deserved a little privacy. Perez would be an unforgiving audience at best. “Yes.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Ruby took Luna’s hand and led her up the steps. “Come on.”

Luna followed, her thoughts circling inside her, but never settling on one concrete idea.

“So?” Ruby stood with her hands on her hips. Even though it was Luna’s apartment, she looked like she owned the place. “What did you want to tell me?”

Luna debated sitting on the couch but decided against it. She’d face Ruby head-on, standing on her feet. “I met someone.”

“I meet people all the time. What’s your point?” Ruby tapped her foot and her temple twitched.

“She’s different.” Luna was not saying this well.

“Luna, I have exactly,” she checked her watch, “forty-seven minutes until my nail appointment. I planned to spend that time naked and you are really fucking that up. Say what you need to say.”

Luna took a fortifying breath. “I want to date her.”

“So date her. What does that have to do with me?” Ruby started to undo the buttons on her blouse but Luna placed her hand over Ruby’s, stilling her motion.

Her whole relationship with Ruby slammed into sharp relief. Despite their sex-only approach, Luna had been confident in their commitment. They’d both promised not to sleep with anyone else while seeing each other. Ruby’s casual dismissal made her wonder why Ruby was so willing to overlook Luna dating someone else. Did she really think this was the next evolution in their relationship, rather than the end of it?

“I can’t see both of you.”

“Why in the world not?” Ruby’s voice was hard, but her chin trembled slightly.

Luna pushed her hands through her hair and pictured Angie. Was she out of her mind for even considering giving up a woman like Ruby? Ruby had the softest skin in the history of skin, and God, the things she could do with her hands. Luna had no real idea what Angie had to offer, but she needed to find out. Soft skin and hands aside, Angie compelled her. Luna could not ignore the burning for Angie.

“She wouldn’t like it.”

“So that’s it, then? Three years and it’s over because you
met
someone?”

Luna could feel a tantrum building and wanted to duck for cover. She stood her ground.

“Ruby, we both knew this would end eventually.” Luna had always assumed Ruby would be the one to leave.

“No, Luna,
we
didn’t know that.” A fat tear clung to Ruby’s eyelashes for a moment, then streaked down her face. “One of us thought the other would eventually figure it out. I waited for three fucking years for you to pull your head out of your ass and get a clue. For nothing.” Ruby’s voice increased in volume and pitch as she gained steam. Her rant ended in a near screech.

Luna didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Ruby’s voice was a bit calmer, but still on the edge. “Fuck off, Luna.” She slammed out of the apartment, leaving Luna in her wake.

Monday, August 17

Tori gestured for Angie to spin in yet another circle. “That’s what you’ve decided to wear?”

Angie abruptly stopped. All the spinning was making her dizzy, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with her outfit. “Yes. It’s fine.”

Tori nodded, but her expression said she didn’t agree. “What if she takes you somewhere
nice
?”

“We live in Portland. There are only two or three places where jeans and a blouse wouldn’t be good enough.” Portland was the land of Tevas and dreadlocks. Even in the dead of winter, shorts—combined with thermals on top—were commonplace. Wearing long jeans in the summer was considered dressing up. “Besides, she said to dress casual.”

“Don’t you want to impress her?” Tori bordered on whiny.

“What do you think I should wear?”

Tori bounced to the closet and pulled out a light summer dress. “This,” she said victoriously.

“You realize Luna will probably wear leather pants. Is a dress really the right complement?” Angie let herself dwell on that thought for a moment. Luna in her born-to-be-bad leather outfit and her in her girl-next-door skirt. It was a nice visual. “Okay, dress it is.”

“Yes!” Tori tugged at Angie’s shirt with such fervor Angie almost forgot why her best friend was trying to get her naked.

“I can do it.” She wrenched the fabric away from Tori in fear that she’d pop the buttons off completely.

“You have to put your hair up.” Tori moved on to her next point of attack before Angie could finish changing.

“I’ll make you leave if you don’t settle down.” Angie dropped her pants and stepped out of them.

“No, you can
not
wear that underwear.” Tori looked horrified.

Angie regarded herself in the mirror. It’d been so long since she’d gone on a date she’d completely overlooked her lingerie. Last year’s boy-cut briefs and industrial bra really weren’t sexy. Tori dug through her underwear drawer and re-emerged a moment later waving a matching dark blue set like a victory banner.

“Put these on.”

“Bossy much?” For all her grumbling, Angie was grateful for Tori’s presence. Tori dated. She thought about things like shaving her legs and wearing the right panties.

Underwear changed, Angie squirmed as the string part of the G-string settled in her ass crack. No wonder this had been lost at the back of the drawer. The bra wasn’t any better. The underwire, while doing a fabulous job keeping her breasts pointed the right direction, was also digging into her left boob like a small animal furrowing out a place to sleep for the night. She wiggled, trying to find a comfortable position—but no. The underwire was determined.

“You look good.” Tori’s eyes were glazed and her voice breathier than normal.

Angie knew Tori didn’t want
her.
Tits and ass turned her on no matter who they were attached to. Once she pointed out a nun with a wink and a nudge. All Angie saw was habit and piousness. “Knock it off. I don’t have time for your lust-filled thoughts. Tell me how to keep this from poking me.”

Tori blinked. “You don’t.”

Angie gave it one last tug and resigned herself to a night of wanting out of her clothes. “At least it distracts me from the permanent wedgie my panties are giving me.”

Angie slipped the dress over her head and stepped into the shoes Tori handed her. Tori then spent twenty minutes worrying Angie’s hair into a loose pile on the back of her head. Angie could have achieved the same look in thirty seconds, but she didn’t tell Tori that.

“Looks nice.” Tori fingered the loose strands hanging at the side of her face. “Now, makeup.”

The reflective moment over, Tori brusquely applied it to Angie’s face with the careful efficiency of a professional.