The Right Time (52 page)

“I love it, too.” Tilting her chin, Townsend placed a gentle kiss to Jenna’s lips.

Then she lay back and let Jenna make the next move. She loved to kiss in the morning, always seeming less constrained when she was still a little groggy.

Thankfully, Jenna didn’t seem to be worried about her mom hearing their lips touch. She put her hand on Townsend’s waist and pulled her closer. Their bodies touched all along their lengths, with Jenna’s nipples hardening beneath her cotton undershirt. Then soft lips settled against Townsend’s, and the thrill of being so close, so intimate with someone she loved made her temperature flare.

Silently, Jenna lavished affection on her, kissing Townsend’s brow, her eyes, her cheeks. She teased kisses down her throat to settle at the base of her neck. A soft tongue licked the skin there, and the pulse between Townsend’s legs started to beat harder.

Decision time. If she let herself get carried away, she’d ache with desire when they stopped, well short of satisfaction. But if she didn’t, if she tried to keep some emotional distance, they’d never have sex.

Jenna could start things off, but she quickly reached a barrier she couldn’t move past. Townsend had to work like a snake charmer to get her libido to come out and stay a while. Given that sex was definitely not going to happen today, she switched her erogenous zones off and focused on being close.

Jenna looked up from nibbling on the super sensitive skin near her ear. Their eyes met and a gorgeous smile made Jenna’s entire face light up. “I’m so in love with you,” she whispered. “Next year, let’s come back to Rome. I want to see it again—just the two of us.” Her eyes closed as her smile grew impossibly brighter. “It’ll be so romantic.”

Warm lips tickled Townsend’s ear. Sometimes it was impossible to turn off her clit. It tingled with sensation as those tender lips made her squirm under the assault. “I want to kiss you in front of every fountain, every church, every statue. Then go back to our tiny room and make love. Every day. Twice a day,” she promised, eyes glowing.

Townsend soaked up what she knew was an entirely sincere pledge. It probably wouldn’t happen. But wouldn’t it be fucking fantastic if it did?

A warm breeze floated in through the open windows, ruffling the sheer white curtains. The air was sweet and clean and filled with the scent of spring. The nearby park burst with crocus and daffodils, and their heady aroma infused the air.

Three whole days off—plenty of time to relax and enjoy the city. Most of their classmates had gone to the train station and hopped onto whichever train came first. They’d be back on Sunday night, telling tales of sleeping rough on the steps of a church in Marseilles or tromping around vineyards in Bordeaux. Hennessy had done a little of that, but she honestly didn’t have the money to take off without careful planning.

Kate, who clearly had the money, tended to follow Hennessy’s lead. Kate’s mom was from France, and the family had visited every summer from the time she was born, so little day trips didn’t seem to interest her. Or maybe she didn’t go because Hennessy couldn’t, it was hard to tell. Kate’s usual response when Hennessy asked was to show a delightfully enigmatic smile and shrug the question off.

They’d spent the day at the Musee d’Orsay, Kate’s favorite place in Paris. She had a membership, letting them blow past the line to sail right inside any time they wanted. One day, when she had some money, Hennessy was going to come back to Paris and go wherever she wanted, eat at every restaurant that caught her fancy, even pay for the audio guides at the museums. But until then, it was really nice to tag along with Kate, getting a taste of what life was like when you weren’t counting your pennies.

Now they were back in Kate’s room, a nice double with tall windows that opened in, allowing a good view of the neighborhood. The small cafe across the street was bustling, with a dozen people standing outside to smoke, little kids playing together while they waited for their parents to finish their cigarettes and go inside.

Hennessy turned away from the window. “I haven’t seen an Easter bunny in this whole town. I want some jelly beans and Peeps and a chocolate bunny that I can nibble the ears off,” she decided. “And I’d like that all right about now.”

Kate was lounging on her roommate’s bed, but she jumped to her feet, grabbed her buttery soft leather jacket and a gorgeous silk scarf in a print that matched her eyes and started to wrap it around her neck—artfully. “Let’s go,” she urged. “Get your butt in gear.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re hunting wabbits,” she said, doing a laughable imitation of Elmer Fudd.

After wasting a solid hour stomping around both the 11th and the 12th arrondissements, they returned to the room with their booty.

“Easter bells,” Hennessy grumbled, putting a beautifully wrapped package on the table. “I know I was using the proper word for bunny, but people acted like I was asking for the Easter snake. I thought America had taken over the whole world and removed every unique aspect of every culture.”

“Apparently not. Because those people are still laughing about that crazy American girl with the funny accent asking for bunny rabbits. How many people directed you to the butcher?”

“All of them!” she complained, then burst out laughing. “Oh, well, at least I gave them something to talk about tonight.”

“Let’s get after those bells. I’d much rather have good chocolate than Peeps.”

Hennessy started to unwrap the box. “I can’t believe how expert everybody is in making things look pretty. Take a look at this,” she demanded, holding the white box with the elaborate yellow handmade bow under Kate’s nose.

“My mom’s French,” Kate said, chuckling. “I know all about how important visual presentation is. Sight is as important as taste. Maybe more.”

“I guess I could get used to this, but I’d best not expect it when I go home. Dang, in Boston they throw stuff into a sack and you’d better like it.”

“We’re not in Boston—yet,” Kate said, playfully waggling her eyebrows.

Hennessy swallowed. When she said it like that, it always felt like Kate assumed they’d… She wasn’t sure what she was implying, but Hennessy knew Kate was counting on being close…closer when she started her training in Boston in August.

After she got the box open, Hennessy sniffed appreciatively at the contents. They weren’t Peeps, by a long shot. But they were gorgeous. Truffles dusted with cocoa, creamy fondant studded with nuts, rich dark chocolate filled with caramel. And, of course, a chocolate bell—a damned poor substitute for a bunny.

They sat on Kate’s bed and dug in. With her first bite, the fondant melted on Hennessy’s tongue, bathing it in pure, rich, chocolate goodness, and she let out a groan. “Goddamn, that’s fine.”

“Really fine,” Kate agreed as she delicately bit into a piece of marzipan shaped like a strawberry.

“Toss that almond crap away and eat some real candy,” Hennessy chided.

“I like marzipan. When it’s made right, it’s awesome.”

“It’s almond paste. This,” she declared, holding up the last bite, “is wicked good.”

Kate laughed, her beautiful blue eyes crinkling when she did. “A Boston accent, by way of South Carolina, is just about the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.” Their eyes met and her voice dropped into a slightly lower register. “You’re endlessly entertaining, Boudreaux.”

“Thank you Dr. Brill. I do my best.”

She popped the last bit of chocolate into her mouth, squirming as she chewed. “Damn fine stuff.” After surveying the box, she picked up another piece and took a bite. “Damn! Even better.” Holding it up to Kate’s mouth, she urged, “Come on. Take a bite.”

“No way. I don’t want to ruin my perfect almond bliss.” Her lips closed tight.

“More for me.” Hennessy chewed thoughtfully. “I really do appreciate this, Kate, even though you’ve ruined me. I’m never going to be able to eat one of those cheap bunnies my gramma buys at the dollar store.”

One dark blonde eyebrow rose, a curious look Kate often gave her. Like she wasn’t sure if she was being serious. “You can buy a chocolate bunny for a dollar?”

“You surely can. Before I came to France, I thought chocolate was supposed to be grainy, with a waxy aftertaste.”

Kate regarded her with a long, assessing look. Like she could see right inside Hennessy, could read her thoughts written on her skin. “There are all sorts of things you can discover in Paris.” They were sitting so close to one another, their shoulders pressed together. Kate blinked, her pale lashes catching a glint of the sun. “You can open your palate and…anything else to new experiences.” Her gaze grew more heated as those gorgeous eyes probed Hennessy’s like a laser.

Hennessy’s mouth was bone dry and her body began to tremble. The atmosphere was so charged, a spark would have sent the whole place up in smoke. Unconsciously, Hennessy leaned in, then paused, locked in indecision.

That tiny movement was the only signal Kate needed. A hand slid through Hennessy’s hair to tickle the back of her neck. Then gentle pressure pulled her forward until their lips met in an explosion of sensation that careened from her mouth to every extremity. Her stomach flipped, tension building in her gut. But Kate’s sure, calm hand was right there, holding her, pulling her close, somehow reassuring her. Another hand, just as gentle, just as confident, began to stroke her face. The touch was reverent, and so slow and delicate it felt as if butterflies danced across her forehead and cheek.

Hennessy’s body was on fire. Years of denial, of need, of want threatened to burst from her as those lips continued to taunt and tease. Before she could stop them, her arms wrapped around Kate as they tumbled to the surface of the bed. Bright, sparkling eyes gazed up at her, so full of warmth, of welcome. But before Hennessy could claim what this beautiful woman was clearly offering, an image of Townsend filled her mind. The thought of their first kiss, on the windblown beach, lodged in her brain and would not let go. Their promises to each other. Their love, never faltering. No matter what had changed, no matter who Townsend was with—Hennessy loved her. She truly loved her.

Then she was on her back, with Kate cuddled up next to her, stroking her cheek as she soothed her. “It’s okay. Come on now. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.”

Hennessy reached up and felt the wetness, completely unaware her tears had fallen.

“Talk to me,” Kate urged. “Tell me why you’re crying.”

“I love Townsend,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I’ll always love her.”

“Shh,” Kate whispered. “It’s all right, Hennessy. It was just a kiss. She’ll forgive you.”

“No.” Shivering, she managed to sit up and get herself under control. “It’s not like that,” she said. “She’s with someone else.”

“Then…” Kate’s head cocked, clearly confused.

“She told me to open myself up. To get some experience.” She took in another shaky breath. “But I’m…” Tears scalded her cheeks, flowing over her skin, blazing hot with embarrassment. “I still love her, Kate. Even though she’s with someone else.”

Kate climbed over Hennessy’s body, got to her feet and extended a hand. “Let’s go walk some more. You talk better when you’re moving.”

They exited onto their quiet street, the usual bustle of neighbors coming home from the stores, toting the archetypal baguettes, and fresh fruit and vegetables from the nice Tunisian guy on the next street over. Kids rode their plastic three-wheeled bicycles or zipped along on scooters, ignoring their mothers’ pleas to slow down and mind the traffic.

It took Hennessy a second to realize she understood every word, had come to easily be a part of this neighborhood so far from home. It was disorienting. Troubling, really. How could she feel at home in a place that would never
be
her home?

Turning to take a look at Kate’s sober, expressionless visage, the exact same feeling hit her. She loved Townsend. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. But she craved Kate’s touch, her scent, her warm, supple body. She wanted to be with her. Now. In a way she’d never let herself be with Townsend.

Kate reached down and took her hand, a warmth exploding in her chest at that simple, innocent touch. “Tell me about Townsend,” she said, and Hennessy let it out as they walked along the crowded street, dodging Parisians heading home for dinner.