Turning the Page (19 page)

She could tell immediately that Melanie had decided to deal with her turmoil by focusing on

something other than her turmoil.

There were boxes strewn all over the floor of the shop. Some spilt over with the older books

Melanie had pulled off the shelves, books that were headed for local libraries or other

bookstores. The others were freshly opened, smelling of newly printed paper, their colorful

spines lining the shelves Melanie was currently scrubbing with Pine Sol.

"You scrub those shelves any more, they're gonna be too thin to hold the books."

Melanie jumped, closing her eyes when she realized the identity of her surprise visitor.

"Jesus, Lynda," she snapped. "What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?"

Lynda smiled, knowing the snipe wasn't aimed at her. "You told me it serves you right for

becoming so absorbed in your work. Or something like that."

"Touché." The redhead grinned. "Sorry." She waved her hands in circles on either side of her head. "Spinning, spinning, spinning. You know?"

"I know. Come on. Get your stuff and shut the place down."

"Why?"

"We're going to Happy Hour for a drink."

"Oh, Lynda. I don't think so. I..."

Lynda held up a hand, stopping the flow of excuses. "Nope. None of that. Let's go. There's a

DJ early tonight.

We can dance, drink, meet some people, and forget our troubles for a while."

"You don't have any troubles."

"That's 'cuz I go to Happy Hour."

Melanie chuckled, knowing there would be no arguing with Lynda. Hell, she wouldn't put it past

her friend to toss Melanie over her shoulder and bodily carry her to the bar. She reminded

Melanie of Angela, her secretary back in Chicago, and was grateful for the way Lynda watched

over her. Angela would be pleased.

She sighed, defeated. "Oh, all right. One drink." Lynda held out her hand, a glimmer in her eye.

"That's all I ask."

AT LEAST LYNDA had allowed her to go home and change out of her dusty clothes. Her hands

had been blackened by the book print; that in turn had made some very artistic streaks on her

face. A quick shower, a new pair of navy blue chino shorts she'd purchased the day before,

and one of Samantha's sleeveless button downs in an off-white and she felt like a new woman.

She could feel the bass of the dance music in the pit of her stomach, even as she stood in the

parking lot of TJ’s. She swallowed hard, suddenly nervous about going inside by herself. She

kicked herself for insisting Lynda not wait outside for her.

She'd made her bed. Time to lie in it.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and strode to the front door, puffed up with false

bravado. She cleared her throat and pushed it open, the music washing over her in a loud wave.

Much to her surprise and secret delight, she was stopped by the bouncer and asked for ID.

She handed over her Illinois driver's license with a grateful smile. The bouncer was a large,

intimidating woman, balanced precariously on a stool that seemed ready to collapse any minute

under her weight. Her face softened dramatically when she smiled, however, and Melanie

smiled back, accepting her license, as well as the gentle stamp the woman placed on the back

of her hand.

The bar was unexpectedly full for this early in the evening. Melanie pretended not to notice

when several pairs of female eyes wandered up and down her body appreciatively. She shifted

slightly under the gaze, half uncomfortable and half flattered. She spotted Lynda waving

frantically from the end of the bar and heaved a sigh of relief, now that she had a

destination.

Lynda pressed a beer into her hand the second she could reach Melanie. "I was afraid you

might not show," she said, leaning close to Melanie's ear so she could be heard over the music.

"I knew I'd never hear the end of it," the redhead replied with a grin.

Early evening slid slowly into night as Melanie felt herself loosen up considerably. Lynda was

very attentive, introducing her to as many people as she possibly could. Her anxiety

dissipating, she jumped with delight when the DJ launched into a medley of eighties tunes.

She turned to Lynda and shouted over the strains of Express Yourself, "I love this song. Can

we dance?"

Lynda's eyes lit up, ecstatic to see this new friend that she'd grown so fond of in such a short

time looking happier than she had in days. "Absolutely." She seized Melanie by the hand and led her to the crowded dance floor.

Melanie had never danced with a woman before, and an inkling of panic crept into her

conscience, as she tried to decide how close was appropriate. Lynda seemed to sense it. Sliding

her hand around Melanie's waist, she pulled her in a little closer, bringing her lips to Melanie's

ear. "Relax," she coaxed. "It's okay. It's just me."

The soothing voice so close to her ear sent an unfamiliar and not entirely unpleasant shiver

down Melanie's spine. She wet her lips self-consciously and concentrated on following Lynda's

moves. Express Yourself segued into Frankie Goes to Hollywood's Relax, and soon Melanie and

Lynda were moving like they'd been dancing together for years.

The evening progressed. The dance floor was crowded with sweaty bodies and the air was

close and humid, but Melanie felt like she was in her own little world. Lynda was a great

dancer, something Melanie hadn't expected from her friend, and she felt her anxiety slipping

away, leaving her free to enjoy the evening.

With each passing song and each disappearing beer, Melanie felt more and more comfortable

in her surroundings. Every time she tried to buy a drink, a full bottle appeared miraculously in

front of her before she was able to pull out her money. She sent a mock-glare Lynda's way.

Conveniently, the café owner never seemed to be looking.

Melanie turned to lean her back against the bar, taking a swig from her beer. She'd lost track

of how many she'd had, and although she wasn't drunk, she was definitely feeling tipsy. The

throbbing bass stopped and a slow groove began. The bodies that had been bumping and

grinding a minute ago closed into pairs and swayed slowly. Melanie watched in fascination as

couples of men and women alike entwined with one another, some more familiarly than others.

She felt the breath in her ear before she actually heard the voice, and it made the hair on

the back of her neck prickle with excitement. "Could I have this dance?"

She turned to meet the sparkling dark eyes that had been invading her dreams for the past

four nights, the same eyes she couldn't get out of her head no matter how hard she tried to

push them away. Words failed her, as she became lost in the depths of those eyes; she could

only nod. She felt Taylor's fingers slide down her bare arm and clasp her hand softly, leading

her into the sea of swaying bodies. She was unaware of the observing pair of blue eyes at the

bar, filled with equal parts approval and worry.

They found an open corner of the dance floor and only then did they face one another. Taylor

slid her arm around Melanie's waist, finding she didn't need to do much else to move the older

woman closer. Melanie reached her left arm up, resting it on Taylor's shoulder. Her fingers

seemed to move of their own accord as they tangled themselves in the ponytail of brunette

waves they found at the nape of Taylor's neck. Taylor brought their clasped hands in, resting

them against her own collarbone. They fit together like two connecting pieces of a puzzle, a

fact not lost on either of them.

Melanie's nose reached Taylor's chin and she looked up into the dark eyes. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself."

She pulled the dark head down slightly so she could be heard over the music. "It's good to see

you."

Taylor pulled her head back so she could see Melanie's face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Melanie nodded.

Taylor moved back to Melanie's ear, barely able to keep from tasting it. "You didn't call," she said quietly. "I wasn't sure." She felt Melanie nod.

"I know. I'm sorry. I've got some...things...to deal with, you know?"

It was Taylor's turn to nod.

"Just bear with me, all right? Please?" The redhead's voice was small and barely audible over the music and Taylor wanted nothing more than to make everything all right. She pulled

Melanie closer, the length of their bodies touching. Melanie caught her breath at the contact,

an erotic gasp that didn't escape Taylor's notice.

"Okay," Taylor promised, feeling Melanie relax with relief in her arms. When she looked up and blue met brown, the connection was electric and at the same time, comforting. Melanie had

never felt so safe with anyone before and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in the

deep, gentle gaze and stay there. Without realizing she was doing it, she raised her chin,

pulling Taylor's head down to meet her lips softly.

The charge that ran through her was even stronger than she remembered, despite the gentle,

undemanding nature of the kiss.

She brushed Taylor's lips a second time, feeling the younger woman applying slightly more

pressure, seemingly unsure of exactly how far to go, letting Melanie set the pace. Melanie

freed her other hand from Taylor's grasp, bringing it up to join the first, pulling Taylor's

head down to meet hers with authority, pressing her lips firmly and imploringly against the

brunette's. Taylor slid her hands up to capture Melanie's face, kissing her deeply, her heart

skipping a beat when she felt Melanie's tongue demanding entry, allowing it without a second

thought. They could hardly qualify as "dancers," barely swaying to the music, standing in a corner of the dance floor, kissing with abandon, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world.

They remained that way, that close, swaying slowly to the fast song that had replaced the

slow one for several minutes before they were jostled by other dancers.

"Hey, get a room," somebody shouted playfully.

Melanie flushed a rosy shade of pink and, untangling herself from Taylor's grasp, buried her

face in Taylor's chest, hoping the room would just disappear. Both of them were heaving

breathlessly, suddenly aware of the various eyes watching them, many with envy. Taylor

blushed almost as deeply as Melanie, shocked at her own behavior. In a public place, no less.

She put her arm protectively around Melanie and led her off the dance floor and into a

somewhat private corner. Slipping her fingers beneath Melanie's chin, she brought her face up

and looked into the blue eyes, clouded with a mixture of fear, embarrassment and desire.

"You okay?"

Melanie swallowed, not trusting herself to speak, and nodded.

"I'm sorry about that," Taylor said. "I...I shouldn't have done that. But..." She looked off into space, searching for a logical explanation.

Melanie brought her back by capturing the hand on her chin with her own. "Hey. Let's get one

thing straight, okay? I did that. You just wanted to dance. I just...I can't seem to..." She blew out a frustrated breath. "Since Sunday, I can't be that close to you and not touch you. I don't know why. I just can't. I'm sorry."

Taylor smiled. "Don't you dare apologize for complimenting me like that, okay? There are

people who would give their eyesight to have somebody say that about them."

Melanie could feel herself relax. "What is it about you, Taylor?" she asked softly.

"I could ask you the same thing, Ms. Larson."

Melanie touched Taylor's lips with her fingertips, still amazed at their softness. "Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?"

Taylor tried not to let her ecstasy show. She scrunched up her face, pretending to think.

"Hmm. Tomorrow? Lemme think. That's Friday, right?" Melanie slapped her playfully. "Now that you mention it, I think I'm having dinner with a beautiful woman."

"You think so?"

"I think so."

"Beautiful, huh?"

"Beyond beautiful. Breathtaking. And she kisses like nobody's business."

Melanie couldn't stop the blush, hard as she tried. She checked her watch instead, trying to

busy herself with some-thing. "Oh my God. Is it really that late?"

"It is."

"I need to go. I've got so much to do at the store tomorrow."

Taylor studied the redhead's face closely. "Did you drive?"

Catching the hidden question, Melanie frowned. "Yeah."

Taylor scanned the bar, her eyes meeting the watchful pair that was closely observing them.

"Stay here for a sec."

Lynda tried to keep her face neutral as Taylor approached her. She had been paying very close

attention to the couple since their dance, and she had mixed emotions about what she saw.

Melanie was obviously crazy about Taylor, whether or not she was ready to admit it to herself

or anybody else. To anybody looking in from the outside, it would seem that Taylor felt the

same way. But, there was no way to be sure and Lynda felt slightly uneasy. Maybe it was her

unused maternal instincts. She felt an inexplicable need to protect the redhead.

"Hi, Lynda."

"Taylor." The café owner nodded.

"Um...Melanie's had a bit too much to drink, I think."

"I think you're right."

"If I drive her home, can you follow us in her Jeep?"

Lynda weighed the options. The maternal side of her said she could follow the couple home and

make sure that Taylor didn't overstep her bounds. On the other hand, the part of her that

was Melanie's friend suggested she should just accept the fact that Melanie was a big girl