Audrey stared at the ceiling, allowing her focus to soften and her vision to blur in the rapidly fading light. It struck her how she could make everything go sort of misty around the edges. She hadn’t realized she could do that. Such a fucking metaphor, it was all she could do not to laugh.
“Are you okay?” Rowan’s voice held worry, which was sweet.
She turned her head, but it took a few seconds to reengage her occipital lobe and bring Rowan’s face into focus. The look of concern on her face matched her voice. “I am.”
“Are you sure?”
She laughed, as much at herself as Rowan. “I’m sure. Do I not seem okay?”
“You seem…” Rowan closed one eye, then the other, and it was hard to tell if she was fumbling for the right word or choosing it carefully. She opened both and frowned. “Not here.”
“Are you worried that I’m not thinking about what we just did or that I’m thinking too much?”
Rowan nodded. “Yes.”
Both were fair concerns, all things considered. And she liked that Rowan seemed to get her cerebral tendencies but not be annoyed by them. “I’m thinking about how I’m not overthinking and how it’s kind of nice.”
“Huh.”
“I know.” An anomaly for her—on so many levels.
“I don’t want you to regret anything.”
Did she? Time would tell. But if that wound up being the case, it wouldn’t be fair to hang it on Rowan. No, she’d gone into this with clear intentions and no illusions. If anything, she’d been the one to nudge Rowan into it. “I don’t.” The follow-up question threatened to lodge in her throat. “Do you?”
“I don’t.”
Ostensibly the answer she wanted, but the brevity of Rowan’s reply left her wanting more. She rolled onto her side. “Are you just saying that?”
Rowan’s gaze shifted from Audrey’s eyes to her mouth and back. Then she kissed her long and slow. “No.”
For some reason, the terse answer didn’t bother her this time. Her need for reassurance did, but that was another matter entirely. “Okay, good.”
“I’d love to make you dinner and then come back to bed and show you exactly how much I’m not just saying that. Assuming you don’t have somewhere to be, of course.”
It shouldn’t be possible to be turned on again, but she was. And maybe she was imagining it, but Rowan’s comment about having somewhere to be felt like her own way of needing a touch of reassurance. Funny how that made such a difference. She trailed a finger between Rowan’s breasts. “Let me guess. You’ve got a special box of mac and cheese for when the ladies come over.”
Rowan’s mouth fell open. “I should be offended by that.”
“But you aren’t because you’ve already admitted you’re a terrible cook.”
“I’m a lazy cook. It’s not the same thing.” Rowan’s haughty expression made it clear she didn’t really take offense.
“Okay, then. What’s for dinner?”
“Shit.”
She laughed then. “Didn’t expect me to say yes?”
“I offered before thinking about what I have in the house and then overplayed my hand.”
Like before, the playfulness struck her. Completely out of character for her. Kind of like impulsively going to bed with someone. It made her wonder about what might be in or out of Rowan’s character. “How about we rustle up something together and I promise to keep my expectations super low?”
“Now that’s just insulting. I mean, yes please, but insulting.”
Another laugh escaped. And since she was so busy surprising herself, she figured why the hell stop there. “Don’t worry. You’re good enough in bed to get away with being a lousy cook.”
“I’m not lousy. I’m willfully ignorant. And I make killer scrambled eggs.”
She poked Rowan in the ribs. “You should have stuck with lousy. I’d give you credit for trying.”
“Now she tells me.” Rowan planted a kiss on her mouth and climbed from the bed.
Audrey sighed. If she’d thought Rowan was gorgeous before seeing her naked. This? This was swoon-worthy. She laughed at the idea of being a swooning female and sat up. Only to realize her clothes sat in a sopping wet pile on the floor. “Crap.”
“Want to borrow some sweats and I can put those in the dryer?”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
A few minutes later, her clothes tumbled in a small room off the kitchen and Rowan poked around for what she might have on hand, humming as she opened various cabinets.
“I don’t mind eggs for dinner.”
“Aha.” She pulled a box of linguine from one of the shelves.
“Is there a jar of sauce lurking in there, too, or do we need to wing it?”
“I can do you one better.” She headed to the freezer. “There’s this old Italian woman at the farmer’s market who sells sauce. Marinara with sausage or pesto?”
“Pesto sounds delicious.” As did the image of Rowan poking around a farmer’s market and chatting up an Italian grandma.
“Coming right up.”
Since the rain brought a cool front with it, Rowan got a fire going in the wood stove to chase away the chilled, damp air. They sat on the sofa cross-legged with bowls of pasta and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. They washed the dishes, standing hip to hip at the sink like they’d done it a thousand times before. To be fair, they had done it at least a dozen times. At Ernestine’s, though. And always only as friends. The shift—going to bed together—managed to change everything and nothing at the same time.
Rowan finished drying the pasta pot, then handed her the towel. She wiped her hands before hanging it to dry on the oven door. And for all the times they’d eaten together in the last couple of months, all the times she’d done that exact action, it only hit her in that moment that she’d never shared the simple domestic chore with any of her previous girlfriends.
Restaurants? Sure. Takeout? Plenty. And yes, there’d been a few occasions where things felt serious enough and her work schedule had enough give for her to prepare a meal for another woman. But that had been more about creating a special evening, creating a certain mood. Never was it this chummy, casual affair with whatever was on hand and a dog waiting patiently for something to be dropped. Never—ever—was it this fun.
Rowan flicked off the light over the sink. “Penny for your thoughts.”
She might have been more inclined to share if the revelation didn’t leave her with a sad, hollow sensation in her chest. “You don’t want to know.”
“The sex or dinner? Which are you rethinking?” Rowan seemed to be joking but not.
“Neither.”
“The staying over, then? I promise I’ll get up super early with you and help with the animals, if that’s what you’re worrying about.”
“It’s not but I’m not going to turn down the offer of help. It’s mucking day.”
Rowan shook her head. “Every day is mucking day.”
Technically true, though there was the daily maintenance mucking and there was the weekly dear God how did they get manure there mucking. And tomorrow was the latter. “I wasn’t rethinking that, either. The staying over, I mean.”
“Oh.” Rowan looked relieved but like she was trying not to show it, and it was seriously endearing.
“My thoughts were random, and I was hoping to get back into your bed if the invitation stands.” Who was this woman and where had she come from?
Rowan came to where Audrey stood and threaded her arms around her. “It definitely still stands.”
“Then we should probably get to it. I hear dawn comes pretty early around these parts.”
“That’s what the neighbor’s rooster tells me.”
God, this was fun. “Well, then, lead the way.”
“One sec.” Rowan released her and went to the back door. Jack shuffled to his feet and loped out, only to lope back in about thirty seconds later.
Audrey cringed. “I feel bad for Matilda.”
“Doesn’t she sleep on her bed in the barn at least half the time?”
“Yes, but she’s used to having the option and she has opinions about it.” She was almost catlike in that way. “And the goats and sheep are used to being tucked into the barn for the night.”
Rowan pressed her lips together.
“You think I’m being silly.”
“Nope. I think you’re being adorable.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. Had anyone ever—literally ever—called her adorable? It struck her as the sort of word she’d remember yet couldn’t conjure a single memory from her adult life. Or her childhood. “I think you’re being indulgent.”
Rowan shook her head. “I want you to stay, but I want you to be happy and relaxed. What if we walk over together and check on her. And everyone else while we’re at it.”
“It’s almost eleven.”
“And the rain has cleared and it’s a gorgeous night.” Rowan’s expression turned serious. “Unless you don’t want to stay. That’s really okay, too.”
Rowan’s concern for what she wanted sent a ripple of warmth through her. “I do want to stay. And, not to be weird, I’d rather stay here than spend the night at Ernestine’s, even though that might be more logical.”
Understanding passed through Rowan’s eyes. “Not weird at all. Let’s go check on all the creatures great and small so we can come back here and I can take you to bed.”
Was it really as simple as that? Apparently, it was.
* * *
At Ferdinand’s first crow, Audrey mumbled and burrowed deeper into the crook of Rowan’s shoulder. At his second, she let out an unhappy groan. By the time he let the third one rip, Rowan was pretty sure Audrey mumbled something about a fucking rooster and Rowan didn’t try to stop herself from laughing.
“You’re really not used to it yet?”
Audrey lifted her head and looked around, one eye still closed. “Oh, I’m used to it. I just find it extra offensive when I’m not in bed alone.”
“Ah.” She kissed Audrey’s temple. “I’ll give you that.”
“For the record, it’s not nearly as loud here.”
“Are you taking back feeling bad about him waking me up?”
As if part of the conversation, Ferdinand crowed again.
“No, because it’s still plenty obnoxious.” Audrey made a show of wiggling under the covers.
“I really would have pegged you for a morning person.”
Audrey propped on her elbows this time. “There’s morning and there’s dawn. Let’s not conflate the two.”
God, she was beautiful first thing. “That’s a very city girl thing to say.”
“I resemble that remark.”
She wanted to say that Audrey was settling into country girl pretty damn well but didn’t want to overplay her hand. “Well, city girl, the day’s not getting any younger and the chickens will be wanting their breakfast.”
“Fine.” Audrey let out another groan of protest, but it had a playful edge.
“Would coffee help?” Because offering was the nice thing to do, not because she wanted to cozy up with Audrey for a few more minutes.
“Yes, but I’ll make it at home while I start the chores. I have a system.”
“I bet you do.”
Audrey sat up, putting her sex-tossed hair and glorious breasts on full display. “I resemble that remark, too.”
“We have to get up now or I might never let you out of this bed.” Honesty was the best policy, right?
“Would you mind grabbing my clothes?”
“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She made a feeble gesture in Audrey’s direction. “You, uh, distracted me.”
She got out of bed and pulled on her robe. The sound of Audrey’s laughter followed her downstairs. She gathered Audrey’s things from the dryer, slightly guilty that she hadn’t the night before and now they were all wrinkled, and headed back to the bedroom.
“Thank you.” Audrey pulled on her skirt and top and finger combed her hair. “I feel like I should make a walk of shame joke.”
The phrase gave Rowan pause. “Do you feel shame?”
Audrey seemed to really consider before answering, making Rowan wonder once again if she regretted sleeping together. “No.”
The answer—simple and decisive—caught her off guard. “Good. Shame is dumb.”
Audrey smiled.
“I mean, I get why people feel it. Especially women. Society is so messed up sometimes. I’m glad you don’t, at least when it comes to this. Us.” Christ. When had she gotten on the awkward train?
Audrey continued to smile. “Agreed. In this instance, I was poking fun at myself. Especially since we went to my house last night after deciding I would stay over and I was so focused on having sex with you again I didn’t bother to get clean clothes.”
“Well, I’ll admit to distracting you. I’m not really sorry for that, though.” She’d had a hard time keeping her hands off Audrey. And when Audrey giggled about it? Well, that did her in.
Audrey’s smile turned into a flirtatious smirk. “You shouldn’t be sorry.”
Rowan couldn’t decide if she wanted to pull Audrey into her arms and squeeze her or drag her back to bed and rip off the clothes she’d just managed to put on. The desire to do both was unusual for her and left her a little off-balance. “Do you want some help with the animals this morning? I don’t have to be at work right away.”
Audrey waved her off. “No, no. You go on. You promised to help with mucking this afternoon and I’m going to hold you to it. I’ll take care of everyone and find my way there. I shouldn’t be too much later than usual.”
She wanted to remind Audrey again that she didn’t punch a clock at the cidery, but they’d had the conversation enough times she worried Audrey might smack her. So she walked Audrey to the door, where they shared a sweet if slightly awkward kiss good-bye.
“Could you maybe not tell Dylan about this? I know you’re friends, but I—” Audrey abruptly stopped and shook her head. “You know what? Never mind. That’s not fair of me.”
The abrupt shift didn’t help her off-kilter state. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Just let me know if you’re going to do it right away or later so I can plan my embarrassment accordingly.”
“I don’t want you to be embarrassed either.”
Audrey squeezed her eyes shut and cringed. “I’m not embarrassed that we slept together. Just that someone I work with is going to know that I had sex last night and with whom. If you hadn’t noticed, I have a tendency to be strait-laced.”
She laughed, then, and had another wave of that squishy mixed with sexy feeling. “I promise I’ll keep it vague and I’m pretty sure Dylan will act like an adult, at least with you.”
“Thank you. I’m going to leave before I get even more ridiculous.”
“You’re not ridiculous. I’m pretty sure you’re being adorable again.”
Audrey shook her head. “I’m glad you think so. I’ll see you soon.”
She resisted saying she liked Audrey like this. Just as she resisted kissing Audrey again or asking if she had plans for later. Not because she didn’t want to but because she got the sense Audrey needed some time to settle. “I’ll see you soon.”
She watched Audrey longer than she should have, enjoying the subtle sway of her hips in the floral-print skirt. When she finally closed the door, she simply leaned against it. Her own way of settling, maybe.
As tempting as it was to indulge in a mental replay of the night before, she summoned the events that led up to it instead. The thunderstorm. The kiss that was even better than she imagined. And Audrey’s assertion that acting on the attraction would get it out of their systems.
Ha.
She’d known better then and now, in this moment, the reality of her situation came into sharp relief. What she felt for Audrey had nothing to do with a passing attraction. No, she had it pretty bad. And sex had only intensified it.
She was pretty sure Audrey didn’t feel the same. Still, she’d stayed the night. And she didn’t seem to have regrets, even with the prospect of Dylan knowing what had happened. But was that the end of it? Was Audrey’s curiosity—her desire—satisfied?
She guessed she’d have to wait and see. In the meantime, she needed to get herself showered and ready for work. And try not to think too long or too hard about her beautiful neighbor and the chance they’d get to spend the night together again.