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“I know exactly what you mean,” Robin said, she was thinking that a visit to Britta that night would be a perfect remedy to the gnawing agitation that she was feeling. “So are you going to the office?” Robin asked her partner.
“No, not yet. In fact, if you don’t mind, I need to take the afternoon off, I have something I need to do.”
Robin nodded, knowing what her partner meant. “Watch yourself,” she warned. “I want something left for me.”
Leslie smiled and watched her partner climb into the Suzuki and drive off.
Chapter Fifteen
Leslie knocked on the door of the cottage.
Jane answered. “You didn’t waste much time,” she said, looking at Leslie with a wry grin.
“I need to talk.”
“Of course.” … As if it were self evident. “Why don’t you come in.” She opened the door wide and turned around, letting Leslie follow her inside. The two sat down exactly where they’d sat the day before, Jane in her leather chair, Leslie on the couch. “So, are the surprises over?” Jane asked.
“I should hope so. Remy didn’t exactly come out of the blue, we suspected her of something, but she certainly did surprise us attacking Martha. Let’s hope there aren’t anymore unexpected knife wielding conspirators. I’m not sure Robin or I could take another scene. And the next one, you’re likely not to be there to rescue us,” she conceded, with a grateful smile.
“Robin’s pretty sassy for a submissive.”
“Oh, she can be,” Leslie agreed. “You like her, don’t you? I mean as a sub?”
“Why not?” Jane shrugged.
Leslie felt slightly embarrassed, not knowing why she’d suddenly turned the conversation to her partner. She looked nervously around the cottage, which at the moment was beset with a dull grey light to match a sky now shrouded by looming storm clouds. How apropos! she thought to herself.
“So you need to talk?” Jane eventually prompted her back to the point.
“I do.” Leslie liked looking at Jane, as uncomfortable as that was, and wished she could simply stare at her in silence, drinking in her powerful essence. Jane was the kind of woman she had taken pains to avoid in her lesbian life. Jane stood for things she was unsure about, stood for sex that even in their unconventional lifestyle was unique, she stood for a feminine model so “out there” it scared her, maybe because there was a little butch in her too. Leslie liked a certain order in her life, and Jane’s very presence had seemed to do everything it could to shatter the well-crafted stability she enjoyed. Now, she wanted to be near her, just to get used to the feelings that had been taunting her for days.
“I wonder if it’s talk that you need, or something else,” Jane thought aloud.
“I don’t know,” Leslie replied, finding herself grinning sheepishly. The pauses in their conversation spoke volumes. She guessed that Jane knew as much about her true motives for being at the cottage as she knew them herself. “This case has opened my eyes to lots of things…” she spoke again, as if she had a lot to say. But she stopped, suddenly realizing that she had no idea how to verbalize feelings that were still too vague and mysterious and even frightening to sort out. For a woman not unaccustomed to being in dangerous, threatening and bizarre situations, this moment was one of the most intimidating she’d ever experienced.
“Why don’t you start where it began… that first time I rattled you,” Jane suggested.
Leslie didn’t have to think to know where her smoldering desires caught hold. “Seeing you at the club…I’ve thought about that a lot…”
“You want sex with me?” Jane jumped straight to the point.
Leslie waited to reply; it was a daring thing to admit, almost as if she’d be committing herself if she let the words pass from her lips. “I think so,” she finally managed.
“No,” Jane leapt on that immediately. “You either do or you don’t, guesses and thinking about don’t cut it with me.”
“The truth is, I had to put some things on hold until the case was resolved. That came first.”
“I can see why. I suppose you needed to solve the crime before you engaged my services. Didn’t feel comfortable cavorting with a murderer.”
“We never believed you did it,” Leslie reminded her.
“That’s what you said. But you still had to wonder. You had all your incriminating evidence; even I would have suspected me. I was surprised every morning to be sleeping in my own bed, not in some jail cell.” She smirked.
“I never had any doubt about you,” Leslie told her.
“Really?” Jane rose from her chair. “Sit tight a minute while I get us a beer.”
“Not for me, please, I don’t drink in the morning,” Leslie called to her
