Julia woke to Taylor snoring, loudly. The sound made her smile, if for no reason than it implied she’d worn Taylor out. She kind of wanted to stay wrapped up in Taylor all day, but needing to go to the bathroom eventually won out. She slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Taylor didn’t stir.
After washing her hands, she combed her fingers through her hair, attempting to tame it. Perhaps the only—only—downside to Taylor’s propensity for putting her hands in Julia’s hair was that it made it all the more unwieldy in the morning. A small price to pay, really.
She poked her head into the bedroom, but Taylor remained sound asleep. Although tempted to crawl back into bed with her, she headed to the kitchen instead. In the dozen or more times they’d spent the night together, she’d never been awake first, or at least not long enough to be the one to make breakfast.
In the kitchen, she ground coffee and got the pot going. Priorities, obviously. While it brewed, she opened the fridge to survey her options. Since she’d been spending more time there, Taylor kept the fridge well stocked. After briefly considering omelets, she spied a big container of fresh blueberries just begging to be put in pancakes. Sure enough, Taylor had all the necessary elements.
She pulled up a recipe on her phone to make sure she had the proportions right, queued up some tunes, and got to work. The batter came together quickly enough and she set a skillet on the stove to warm while she fixed herself a cup of coffee. At the rate she was going, she’d be able to bring Taylor breakfast in bed. That would be fun.
“Well, there’s a sight a body could get used to.”
She turned. Taylor looked so damn sexy standing there in boxers and a T-shirt, she had half a mind to abandon breakfast entirely and drag her back to bed. “And good morning to you, too.”
“Are you making pancakes?” Taylor peered around her in the direction of the stove.
“It depends. Do you like pancakes?”
Taylor crossed the room and wound her arms around Julia. “I like them almost as much as I like you.”
Julia smiled at the compliment.
“And I like you almost as much as I like coffee.”
Rather than deflating her, the comment made her giggle. She coughed to make it seem less obvious. “I suppose there are worse things.”
“So many.” Taylor’s voice was serious. She kissed Julia firmly. “Not many better.”
“Well, when you put it that way.”
“I do. And your pan looks hot. Don’t let me distract you.”
Julia turned and, sure enough, wisps of smoke wafted from her skillet. Distract was exactly what Taylor had done. “Crap.”
Taylor chuckled and watched as Julia scurried over to the stove, pulling the pan off the heat and waving it in the air a few times. It was pretty damn adorable. “Sorry.”
“Mm-hmm.” Julia shook her head. “I bet.”
She poured herself a cup of coffee and retreated to one of the stools at the island. “I promise I’ll stay out of your way. Unless, of course, you need help.”
Julia tossed a look over her shoulder that said she needed no help and didn’t appreciate the insinuation. “I’m fine.”
“You most certainly are.” How many times in her life had she had a beautiful woman in her kitchen? Not enough, that’s for sure. But in the moment, all she could think about was one particular woman and how perfect she looked wielding a spatula and swaying to the music playing softly on her phone. When Julia placed a gorgeous stack of pancakes in front of her, dotted with blueberries from her mother’s garden, Taylor wasn’t sure life could get much better.
“Butter and syrup?”
“Absolutely. I’ll grab them.” She hopped down before Julia could protest.
Taylor ate three large pancakes, but then Julia offered to make another round with the leftover batter and she couldn’t turn them down. She should have regretted it, but she didn’t.
“I’m so full.” Julia poked at her midsection. “Why do I have no restraint?”
“Well, there’s restraint and there’s pancake restraint. The second is next-level deprivation. If you had that, I’m not sure we could be together.” She slid their plates and utensils into the dishwasher and did a quick wash of the pan.
“I’m not sure I agree with your logic, but I’m not going to argue.”
“Good. I can be very stubborn.”
Julia drained the last of her coffee and set her mug in the sink. “I’ve heard that about you.”
She couldn’t tell if Julia was teasing her or if she legitimately had that reputation. Oddly, she was okay either way. “When do you have to be at work?”
Julia lifted a shoulder. “Not till three.”
Taylor glanced at the clock on the stove. Barely nine. “So much time.”
Julia folded her arms and gave Taylor a skeptical look. “Maybe I have other things to do today.”
She wrapped her arms around Julia and pulled their bodies close. She gave Julia a squeeze, not possessive exactly, but maybe a little. “Do you have other things you’d like to do today?”
Julia sighed dramatically and looked up at the ceiling. Taylor got the feeling she was about to be turned down in favor of laundry. She acknowledged the importance of clean laundry, but still. But then Julia looked into her eyes and offered a seductive smile. “No.”
“Does that mean I get to take you back to bed?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”
Taylor tapped a finger to her lips. “Is that your way of saying you want me to be nice once I get you there?”
Julia smirked. “Nice is a relative term, don’t you think?”
Taylor’s mind filled with all sorts of not nice, very nice things she’d like to do with Julia. To Julia. She grabbed Julia’s hand and led her to the stairs. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
* * *
By the time they came up for air and took showers, it was after noon. Since they’d had a large breakfast, Taylor suggested they go for a walk before grabbing lunch.
Julia glanced down. “I really should leave some spare clothes here.”
Taylor studied her for a moment. As she’d taken to doing, Julia had put on one of Taylor’s T-shirts and a pair of her boxers. “I don’t know, I think you look pretty fantastic.”
“Maybe, but I can’t exactly go out in this.”
“What if I lent you a pair of real shorts? And a pair of sneakers.”
“Uh, my ass is way bigger than yours.”
Taylor crossed the room so she could put a hand on each of Julia’s butt cheeks. “Your ass is perfect. What size shoe do you wear?”
Julia cringed. “Eleven.”
“Me, too.”
She raised a brow. “Really?”
“This is the universe’s way of telling us we’re perfectly compatible.” Sure, she’d already started to believe that, but she’d take silly little signs, too. She fished out a pair of stretchy gym shorts and tossed them at Julia. “See if those fit.”
They did and they made her ass look perfectly grabbable. They each donned a pair of Taylor’s sneakers and headed downstairs.
“Can Waylon come?” Julia asked.
“Oh, he can. I’m not sure you can convince him he should.”
Julia snickered. “Has he ever even been on a leash?”
Taylor frowned. “Of course he has. I trained him, you know. I didn’t just let him go and hope for the best.”
Julia’s expression sobered. “I’m sorry. I never meant to imply you did.”
“It’s okay. To be honest, it didn’t take much. He’s a homebody and has always wanted to stick close to me.” She’d been very fortunate in that regard, especially since he’d already been a year old when she brought him home from the SPCA.
They stepped onto the porch and Waylon picked up his head, like he knew they were talking about him. Julia went right over to him and got down on his level. “Hey, buddy. How’s my best boy this morning?”
Something about Julia loving on her dog did things to Taylor. Way more than discovering they wore the same shoe size. “It’s a trick, man. She’s going to try to get you to exercise.”
Julia turned and glared, although Taylor got the impression it held no malice. “Just a stroll. Do you wanna go?” Julia ruffled Waylon’s ears, then stood. She slapped her hands against her thighs. “Come on. Let’s go.”
She fully expected Waylon to give Julia a sideways glance, then return his chin to the porch floor. He lumbered to his feet, though, and his tail started to wag. “Oh, sure. A pretty girl asks you to go for a walk and you can’t get up fast enough.”
Julia smirked and walked down the porch steps, Waylon right behind her. Between the messy bun and the borrowed clothes, not to mention the amount of sex they’d had in the last twelve or so hours, it made no sense for Taylor to be turned on. But so it was. Distinct from her feelings about Julia and what they had and where they were going, but just as powerful. She shook her head.
“You’re that bothered?” Julia tossed a playful look over her shoulder.
“No, not bothered. Amused.” That felt like the safest answer at this point.
They meandered down the driveway and up to the dirt road. It was her usual spot for taking a walk and one of Waylon’s favorites. Despite giving Julia a hard time about his laziness, he did come with her from time to time, especially in the spring and fall.
“You want to hear something crazy?” Julia asked.
“Sure?” Given the last few months, she wasn’t sure what would qualify as crazy at this point.
“I’m really glad I came home.” Julia’s voice held genuine wonder at the statement.
“You didn’t expect that?”
“Well, certainly not at first. I mean, the whole thing was pretty pathetic.”
Taylor put her hand on Julia’s wrist, pulling her to a stop. “There is nothing pathetic about you.”
“Fine.” Julia rolled her eyes, but smiled. “My circumstances were pathetic.”
“And you handled them with courage and grace.” She didn’t want to get overly sentimental, but she couldn’t bear the idea of Julia thinking poorly of herself, especially about her breakup.
Another eye roll, but her sigh told Taylor she accepted the compliment, if grudgingly. “Thanks.”
They circled the cornfield bordering Taylor’s property, looping back to the dirt road and picking up the main one to Taylor’s house. They showered, totally had shower sex, and shared sandwiches before Julia headed home to get ready for work. It was, to Taylor’s mind, an absolutely perfect twenty-four hours.
“I’m sure you’ll be beat tonight, but can I see you again soon?”
“You could stop by the winery. I won’t be able to keep you company, but the music should be good and the weather is going to be fantastic.”
She could think of worse things than watching Julia work. “I’ll see if Chris wants to come out.”
She thought of that first night she’d seen Taylor and Chris at Jeb’s, the night Taylor came to her rescue. If she’d only known then what would unfold. The idea of it made her laugh. “That would be great.”
“What? What’s so funny?”
Julia bit her lip. “Not a thing.”
Taylor gave her an incredulous look.
“I’m thinking about flirting with you while I should be working. It makes me feel about seventeen.”
“I’ll plan to come either way and I promise I won’t be too distracting.”
Julia leaned in and kissed her. “I hope you’ll be a tiny bit distracting.”
“Tiny bit. You got it.”
At home, she watered the flowers then started getting ready for work. She planned her outfit around knowing she’d see Taylor. Well, that and her most comfortable shoes. Tonight was part of their outdoor summer concert series and things would be bumping at the winery until at least eleven. When her phone rang, she almost didn’t answer. It was a New York City area code, though.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Julia Pierce?”
Great. A telemarketer. She was terrible at hanging up on telemarketers. “It is.”
“Ms. Pierce, this is Claudia Ashton with the Community Art Collective. How are you today?”
Julia froze as a tingle of anticipation rippled through her. “I’m well, thank you.”
“I’m calling with regard to the portfolio you submitted for our artist in residence program.”
“Yes, of course.” What was she supposed to say to that?
“The selection committee was very impressed with your work, and with your statement of purpose. We’d like to offer you an interview with the program director.”
“An interview?” Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap.
“I know it’s a bit unorthodox for a competition, but since the prize, if you will, is working with our youth for six months, we really want to make sure the individual we select is a good fit.”
“Yes, of course.” Great, she was already repeating herself. Pull it together, Julia. “That makes perfect sense.”
“Oh, good. Is this a good time to schedule with you?”
“Absolutely. Let me get my planner.” She snagged it from her purse and grabbed a pen. “Okay. What time frame are you looking at?”
“I know you’re upstate right now, but we’re really hoping to wrap this up by the end of next week. Is that doable?”
Julia flipped to the dates in question, even though she already knew her schedule. She had senior portraits with Jesse Preston on Monday and was scheduled to work Wednesday through Sunday. “Is there any chance we could do Tuesday?”
“Tuesday would be fantastic. We weren’t sure you could make it down to the city on such short notice.”
Just a five-hour drive to the place she’d left three months before, with no intention of ever going back. “It’s not a problem at all.”
“Do you have a preference for morning or afternoon?”
“Afternoon, please.” Because unless she wanted to broadcast her whereabouts, she’d be going down and back in one day.
“Excellent. I’ll have our admin email you the details. We’re very much looking forward to talking with you.”
“I am as well. Thank you so much.”
The call ended and Julia set down her phone, only to realize her hands were shaking. The reality of what she’d been offered, agreed to, hit her. Excitement and panic coursed through her, sending her pulse racing and making it difficult to breathe. Her pictures—hers—had been chosen. Maybe not as the very best, but some of the best.
She wanted desperately to call Taylor, or better yet, show up at her shop and deliver the news. Without Taylor’s encouragement, she’d never even have taken up photography again, considered it something she could do artistically or professionally. But telling Taylor would entail telling her the grand prize. The thought put a boulder in the pit of her stomach, almost as much as the thought of moving back to the city.
Oh, God. What was she thinking?
Julia started to pace, foyer to living room to kitchen and back. She couldn’t tell Taylor, or anyone else for that matter. She didn’t want to answer the question about whether she’d really go. Even more, she didn’t want the unspoken “I told you so” from everyone who didn’t have the heart to tell her she’d, once again, gotten a little too big for her britches. Because, really, what were the chances she’d get it? They were probably interviewing at least three or four finalists, maybe as many as five or ten.
No, she wouldn’t borrow trouble. It was flattering to be a finalist and, when it was all said and done, she could tell Taylor and everyone else like it was an accomplishment in itself. Because it was.
Calmer, she grabbed her purse to head to work, only to realize her shift started in exactly five minutes. “Fuck.”
She hustled out of the house, then realized she’d forgotten her keys. “Fuck.”
She got the keys, locked the door, and started the fifteen-minute drive to the winery. She could see her sister’s face, teasing. At least it would be about her assuming she was getting busy with Taylor. Julia shook her head. Knowing she’d not get fired, or even yelled at, felt like a consolation. Strange at this point, but she’d take it.