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  Loomis’s eyes shot open. All she saw of Gwen was dark hair where it stuck out of their joined sleeping bags. When did we put them together? She wracked her brain for the memory, coming up with the fuzzy recollection of getting the children back to the camp for bed in the wee hours. Focusing on the woman in her arms, she was both relieved and disappointed to realize they were still dressed in their underwear. She swallowed and closed her eyes as she noted the placement of hands and limbs. Gwen’s arm was tucked around her belly, the palm nestled under Loomis’s T-shirt and along the warm skin of her side. Loomis’s right arm wrapped around her roommate, holding her close, her left hand had settled on Gwen’s arm where it crossed her stomach. Their legs were tangled together, and she couldn’t help but shift a bit, liking the feel of Gwen’s thighs against her own.

  Gwen muttered again, tightening her hold, her fingers lightly caressing Loomis’s side. Loomis squirmed under her touch, the sudden rush of arousal almost painful in its intensity. Her heart thumped, and she felt breathless. Not knowing what to do, she brought her arm in tight to her side, pinning Gwen’s hand, not stopping the ambiguous desire coursing through her body. The abrupt immobilization woke Gwen. She jerked upward, yanking her hand from its prison, using Loomis’s belly to stabilize herself as she blinked in wariness.

  Loomis swallowed thickly, her hand now wrapping around Gwen’s wrist. This wasn’t much better in her opinion. Gwen’s knee barely brushed Loomis’s pubis, sending shivers of desire along her body. The woman’s fingers were a mere hand span from points north and south that screamed in demand for attention.

  The wild glaze in Gwen’s eyes faded. She slipped her hand from Loomis’s grasp to brush the hair back from her face, and relaxed. “Morning,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.

  “Morning,” Loomis croaked. Can a person die of feeling like this?

  Gwen glanced around the tent. “Looks like we’re the late risers today.” She returned her hand to Loomis’s belly. “Did you have any nightmares?”

  Loomis wondered how she could extricate herself from under Gwen’s knee. Another part of her wanted to push upward against the enticing contact. “No.” Gwen’s hand was on top of her T-shirt rather than on her skin, and she felt the same conflicting desire from her touch.

  “That’s good.” Gwen focused on her again, taking in their state of undress and Loomis’s discomfiture. She smiled, her hand rubbing a slow circle on Loomis’s belly. “I’m glad. You needed the rest.”

  Not able to talk, Loomis merely nodded in agreement.

  Gwen seemed to know how her touches affected Loomis, and her grin widened. She sank down and laid her head back on Loomis’s shoulder, removing her knee from its teasing location. “Thanks for humoring me last night.”

  Loomis stilled the wandering fingers by taking Gwen’s hand in her own. She wrapped her other arm around her, simultaneously pleased and dismayed at the loss of contact with Gwen’s knee. “How’d I humor you this time?” She smiled at Gwen’s chuckle.

  “By putting the sleeping bags together. It’s a lot cozier this way, isn’t it?”

  “Mm hmm.” She allowed herself to cuddle Gwen closer. “Very much so.”

  They lay in silence for a time, listening to the world outside. More and more people were waking by the sounds of it, and the aroma of frying fish began to fill the tent. They heard Cara and Lucky talking quietly nearby, presumably cooking a late breakfast. Tommy Boy was speaking with Emerita a little way farther on, his voice too low to make out the words. He didn’t sound nearly as angry as he’d seemed yesterday. Loomis hoped his negativity would mellow as he got used to her family. Gwen’s had.

  That thought brought her roommate into the forefront of her mind. The longer Gwen lived with them, the harder it was to keep her out. Most of Loomis’s friends as well as everybody else in town had a vague idea what had happened to her and her family that night so long ago. No one but she, Rick and Cara knew the full truth, and none of them talked about it. She knew Gwen was curious. For the first time in her life Loomis found herself wanting to speak of the horror, to explain what happened and have someone understand.

  Weasel’s words taunted her. How could she trust Gwen? Did Gwen like her because she thought she held power? If it was power she wanted, she should have stayed in town with Dwayne Walker. Not that it would have done any good. Walker liked to play the field. He’d have strung Gwen along like he did the handful of other girls he slept with. Did Gwen know that already? Was that why she hadn’t remained in town to seduce him? Again Loomis wished she hadn’t spoken to Weasel the night before. It’d been easier to make sense of the woman in her arms when she didn’t have all these conflicting thoughts in her head. All the thinking wasn’t doing her any favors, and Loomis forcibly set her apprehensions aside. “This is nice.”

  “It would have been nicer if you’d have taken advantage of me last night,” Gwen said, laughter in her tone.

  The memory of their conversation in the gym rushed forward, and Loomis felt something in her chest tighten. They had come mighty close to kissing in the bleachers. Only Loomis’s anxiety had stopped it from occurring. “That wasn’t the moonshine talking?”

  Gwen lifted herself up again, though not as high as before. She hovered inches above Loomis’s face. “That was definitely not the moonshine talking,” she murmured. “I told you—you’re a phat dime piece, Marissa Loomis. Anybody with eyes can see it. I’ve wanted a taste of you for some time.”

  The word “taste” in conjunction with herself caused another wave of yearning to flow through Loomis. She automatically licked her lips and exhaled at the sensation. Gwen took that as an invitation and bent closer, gently kissing her. Startled at the liberty, Loomis nevertheless responded. Gwen’s hand left hers to entangle itself in Loomis’s hair, her lips soft and undemanding. Loomis realized that the woman in her arms was letting her set the pace, and a wave of gratitude swept through her, followed swiftly by a crash of arousal against her soul. She parted her lips, releasing a soft whimper as Gwen did the same. Then her tongue slipped into Gwen’s mouth, exploring in a way she’d only dreamed about with Annie Faber all those years ago.

  Gwen’s body pushed against her, the soft breasts pliant along her ribs. Loomis felt hard points where her nipples had swollen in desire, pressing through the thin cloth of their shirts. She blindly found Gwen’s head, her fingers burying themselves in the mass of chestnut hair, her palm cupping the back of her lithe neck. Gwen shifted, settling more of her weight on Loomis, almost straddling her. Loomis lost herself in the sensations, enjoying Gwen’s tongue twining with hers as they slipped back and forth from one haven to the next. It was nothing like kissing Annie, and emphatically not like the invasion she’d had to endure with—

  She broke off the kiss, pushing Gwen off of her so she could sit up. Her heart stampeded in her chest from a combination of want and fear, and she trembled under the onslaught, wondering if she’d be sick.

  “Shhh, baby, it’s okay.” Gwen pressed against Loomis’s back, her presence supportive as she rubbed the back of her neck and shoulder. “You’re safe.”

  Loomis didn’t know whether to be angry or ashamed at Gwen’s understanding. Did someone tell her? Who’s been gossiping? She knew it wouldn’t be her family. Those who knew the truth would never have revealed it to anyone, and the younger children had been kept purposely ignorant of the matter. They all knew that the truth would come out eventually, but it had seemed the safest course of action at the time. Despite the confusion and conflicting emotions, she relaxed with Gwen’s comforting. Her shivers subsided, and she inhaled deeply to quell the rapid beating of her heart. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what happened.”

  Gwen kissed her shoulder. “It’s okay.” She brushed Loomis’s hair back and peered at her. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “No?” Loomis peered sidelong at her.

  “No.” Gwen smiled. She caressed Loomis’s lips with a fin
ger. “I knew you’d taste nice. I can wait as long as it takes to taste more of you.”

  Loomis’s stomach did a flip as she considered the prospect of more kisses, and what they might lead to in the future. As intriguing as that future was, could she trust Gwen to still be there in the years to come? If Weasel was correct, Gwen would leave her for anyone she perceived to have more power. Loomis had no ambition to rule anybody but herself and her family. Getting involved with Gwen could break her heart.

  Megan chose that moment to throw open the tent flaps and jump inside. “Loomis! Breakfast is ready, and Cara said you’ve got to get your lazy bones out of bed.” She tumbled forward to be caught by the two women.

  Relieved by the distraction, Loomis used her daughter’s sudden appearance to put some emotional distance between her and Gwen. “Lazy bones? And who was the one snoring so loud I almost couldn’t sleep last night?”

  “I heard that,” Cara called from outside. “Now get up before the boys eat all the food.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Loomis gave Megan a kiss and set her on her feet. “Go on now, let us get dressed. We’ll be out in a jiffy.”

  “Okay.” Megan stopped to give Gwen a hug and a kiss, too. “Morning, Gwen.”

  Loomis grinned at the dumbfounded look on Gwen’s face as the girl left the tent, Loomis both pleased and vexed at her daughter’s acceptance. “Guess you’ve rated the Megan Loomis Seal of Approval.”

  Gwen’s fingers touched her cheek where the child had kissed her. “I guess so. I wonder why?”

  “Who knows? Sometimes she’s a right puzzle.”

  Loomis climbed out of the sleeping bag, the cool morning air making her shiver. She found the clothes she wore last night and began dressing.

  Following her lead, Gwen pulled on her trousers. “Sounds like her mother.”

  Loomis buckled her belt, frowning. She’d never thought of herself as a puzzle before. The confusing one was Gwen.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Gwen sauntered toward the gymnasium with the rest of the Loomis clan as the sun reached its zenith. A light dusting of clouds marred the otherwise blue sky, some more gray than white. Loomis had mentioned a storm brewing the day before. Gwen watched her walking up ahead and felt a measure of admiration for the woman’s weather sense. Of course, there were other things to admire, and Gwen took her time hitting all the high spots as she looked Loomis over. Their first kiss had truly been butter, creamy and rich, and well worth the wait. It had been difficult for Gwen to hold back. She was glad she had, though. If she’d had any question as to whether or not Loomis had been raped in the past, this morning had given her the answer. Gwen knew Loomis wanted her, but the traumatic incident had left its scars. Getting past Loomis’s fears would take time. I’ve got lots of time.

  “What you looking at, girl?” Emerita, Franklin on her hip, had a smug expression on her face.

  Gwen wiggled her eyebrows, not looking away from Loomis’s backside.

  Emerita followed her gaze. “So that’s how it is?” She grinned. “I didn’t think these peeps went there.”

  “Me neither. But at least one of them does.”

  Laughing, Emerita bumped Gwen’s hip with her own. “Get them drawers, chica.”

  Her laughter caught Loomis’s attention, and the redhead looked back. Gwen’s smile broadened as their eyes met. She chuckled as Loomis blushed, pleased to note the shy grin sent her way. When Loomis stumbled on a rock, Gwen smothered a chortle.

  “She got it bad, girlfriend.”

  Gwen glanced at Emerita. “You think so?”

  “Oh, yeah. I saw how she looked at you yesterday when she talked to T.” Emerita adjusted Franklin in her grip. “She sweats you big time.”

  Despite the fact Gwen suspected this, she couldn’t help the grin sliding across her face.

  Inside the gym, folding chairs had been brought out and placed on the floor. One set of bleachers was still extended. Several dozen kids filled them, mostly adolescents. On the stage, a long table sat with chairs facing the audience. Loomis led her family toward the front of the room to take their places along a row of folding chairs. As Gwen neared Loomis she saw there was some argument from Terry about seating.

  “I want to sit up there.” His eyes snapped as he pointed to the bleachers.

  Several of the younger kids sat at the top. Gwen figured this was equivalent to sitting at the back of the school bus when she was their age. It was cool to be away from the ’rents and heckle from a distance.

  “Tough. You’re sitting here until the break. Once that’s done you can sit where you like.”

  Terry appeared to debate the wisdom of disobedience. Kevin, used to a more violent lifestyle, shrugged and sat down where indicated. In his world, you didn’t buck the system until you were big enough to kick somebody’s ass to get what you wanted. Terry glowered at him but, seeing no support, slumped in a heap in the next chair.

  “Thank you,” Loomis said. “You’ll be free after the break, I promise.”

  Her younger cousin gave a vague half shrug in response and glared at nothing. Not for the first time Gwen wondered how the hell Terry got to be the ass he was. The brat had no respect for his elders, least of all Loomis who was held in high esteem by everyone in Lindsay Crossing. Loomis waved her closer, interrupting her thoughts, and she pushed aside the negativity.

  “We’ll sit here. Tommy, can you and your family sit right behind me?”

  Tommy Boy searched Loomis’s words and tone for insult, but found none. He nodded and directed his girlfriend down the aisle behind the Loomis clan.

  “What difference does it make where we sit?” Gwen asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  Loomis’s nonanswer almost annoyed Gwen. She wondered why it didn’t. It most certainly would have ticked her off two weeks ago. Loomis sat at an angle in her chair, her left arm across the back of Gwen’s as she watched others arrive and take their seats. Occasionally she looked at Gwen and gave her a reassuring smile before returning to her vigilance.

  Soon the gym was abuzz with voices. Gwen took a look around and realized that almost everyone in town was here. No wonder they decided to have their meetings here during Festivals. There wasn’t anyplace else that could hold them all. Up on the stage, people came out from behind the drapes and the gathered townspeople quieted. Gwen wasn’t surprised to see Weasel among them. Walker sat at the center of the table with James Kipfer and a couple of others she’d seen hanging with him last night. She was pleased to note a woman too. This was probably their town council. She wondered why Loomis wasn’t up there. Didn’t they think her important enough to be a member?

  Walker picked up a gavel, rapped it a few times on the table, the loud crack cutting through the most vocal conversations. “Let’s come to order, please. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can head home. Looks like there’s a storm headed our way and some of us need to get back to our homesteads.”

  There was a murmur of agreement from the audience and the meeting began. Gwen’s eyes glazed over before they’d gotten far into reading the last meeting minutes. Who gave a shit about renovating the church or whether Joe Bob Hillbilly had the right to tear down that house standing on his property line? When the reports from different members of the community began, she understood why Terry wanted to sit in the bleachers with his friends. She wanted to sit up there, as well, at least to get away from the drone. Restless, she looked over her shoulder, seeing she wasn’t the only uninterested party. Some townies snoozed in their seats, others reading or fidgeting. What surprised her was the number of Gatos who watched the proceedings with undisguised fascination. She frowned at the rapt gazes and turned back to stare at the stage.

  When Weasel had led meetings, it was usually a war party preparing to go out and take what they needed to survive. Rarely did he have planning sessions or go over what they would do over the coming season, or what happened between two soldiers who had disagreed over something. If things got bad enough f
or Weasel’s attention, he made a decision on the spot, and his men backed him up. Nobody fucked with the status quo or there’d be hell to pay. Nobody had a say other than to plead his case with Weasel. Lindsay Crossing did things differently. They had a council even though they had a mayor. No one made unilateral decisions. From what Gwen could gather, some judgments took a lot of time and effort to pass. Gwen remembered the voting that had happened to allow the Gatos to remain in town. Did they do that at every meeting? How did they get anything done?

  “All right, we’re now open for new business.” Walker rapped the gavel. “The chair recognizes Rick Loomis.”

  Surprised, Gwen looked to see Rick dropping his hand as he stood. He’d obviously been waiting for this moment.

  Rick divided his attention between the audience and the stage. “The biggest thing I noticed yesterday was that we’ve got a lot of new folks in town. I think it’d be good to put some names to the faces. So, I’d like to start by introducing my family. Most of you know us, but our newcomers don’t have the luxury. For those who don’t know, the Loomis Homestead is about six miles southwest of town.” He went down the row of seats, starting with Loomis, insisting that everyone stand for people to see.

  Gwen loathed the blush she felt on her face as nearly three hundred pairs of eyes stared at her. She was grateful to sink back into her seat. Beside her, Loomis grinned and wiggled her eyebrows at her. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  Rather than answer aloud, Loomis affected an innocent air, palm on her chest.

  With an amused snort, Gwen returned her attention to Rick who had finished the introductions with Lucky and Oscar. He didn’t add Tommy Boy or Emerita who sat behind them. Gwen wondered why. Weren’t they family now, too?