More Than Friends (13 page)

Evelyn nodded then lifted her gun in a signal for Melanie to cover her. Evelyn pointed to the left and she swung her gun in that direction, scanning the trees. Though she was on alert, the flash of movement ahead surprised her. Her body humming with adrenaline, she hesitated for only a few seconds before squeezing off two rounds. Her ammo made contact with a pair of dull thuds, followed by a low groan. With only a slight rustling sound, Evelyn bumped her shoulder as she wedged against the tree.

“Good job,” Evelyn whispered as Melanie’s victim slumped away through the trees.

“One down,” she said, grinning.

“Okay, get ready. We’re going to move again.” Evelyn peeked over their shelter. “There’s a large boulder over there. It’s a little farther away, so keep your head down and hustle.”

They continued through the woods, alternating movements as they stalked their prey. Their teammates circled from the other side, and soon, they had the remaining three members of the opposition backed into a corner at the boundary of a neighboring sector. Their enemies mounted a final effort, attacking like kamikaze pilots on a suicide mission.

Melanie had to respect the fact that they went down fighting and even took out one of Evelyn’s team in the process. Evelyn shot one of the other team members, and she tagged another. But while she mentally celebrated her success, two rounds splattered against her chest and one hit her upper arm. She spun around just as Evelyn fired quickly, eliminating their final enemy.

“You okay?” Evelyn grasped her shoulder.

She nodded. The initial sting of the shot had faded quickly. Though the burst of adrenaline had begun to wane, she still felt wired.

“Did you have fun?” Evelyn asked as they walked back through the trees.

“More than I thought I would.” She’d begun by simply mimicking Evelyn’s military-style movements but had soon found herself immersed in playing war. “That was a rush. I’m sorry if I slowed you down.”

“Are you kidding? You did great. You eliminated one and distracted the other one long enough for me to get her.”

Melanie laughed and swiped at the paint on her sleeve. “I’m so glad I could sacrifice myself for your victory. But what happened to jumping in front of a bullet for me?”

“I guess my reflexes were too slow for that.”

As they reached the equipment tent, their other teammates approached and exchanged high-fives with Evelyn. Among the myriad of voices, she made out pieces of the conversation.

“They’re already asking for a rematch.”

“Oh, they want to get smoked again, huh?”

“Anytime, anyplace.”

Wrapped up in watching Evelyn and her friends enjoy their victory, Melanie started when someone spoke from close behind her.

“Nice shooting out there.” Becca wore splotches of Melanie’s blue paint on the front of her shirt.

“Thanks. I didn’t realize that was you. We all look the same in these masks. No hard feelings?”

“Of course not. A bunch of us usually go out for pizza and beer afterward. Would you like to join us?” Becca asked.

Melanie glanced at Evelyn, but she was engaged in conversation with one of the other girls. “I think I might,” she said as she turned back to Becca. The casually offered invitation suggested that a group of the women would be along, but she sensed something more personal behind Becca’s inquiry.

Becca’s flirty smile confirmed her interest and Melanie smiled back hesitantly. It had been so damn long since she’d done this. For so many years, she’d stayed ensconced in her comfortable cocoon of coupledom, and now, whether she liked it or not, she had to emerge and date again. And Becca, with her wide smile, smooth tanned skin, and clear blue eyes, could be as good a candidate as any.

Evelyn’s burst of laughter drew her attention. A few feet away, Evelyn clowned around with her friends, and Melanie enjoyed watching her unnoticed. Evelyn’s paintball mask had pulled several strands of her dark hair from her ponytail, and the gentle breeze feathered them against her face. She brushed at them impatiently, finally catching them and shoving them behind her ear.

Evelyn caught her eyes, smiled, and waved her over. After getting the name and address of the restaurant from Becca, she moved to Evelyn’s side. Evelyn held out her hands, her wide palms facing up, her long, slender fingers slightly bent. If she put her hands in Evelyn’s would her skin be warm or cool? What would Evelyn think of the calluses that roughened her palms?
When did I start thinking so much about Evelyn’s hands?

“Melanie,” Evelyn said. While she’d been daydreaming, Evelyn had apparently expected a response to something.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t get to keep that stuff.” Evelyn pointed at the mask and gun she still held.

“Oh, yeah, here.” She shoved the equipment into Evelyn’s waiting hands.

While Evelyn returned their gear, Melanie listened as the other women talked about work. The police officers complained about the workload, teasing the paramedics about sleeping away their days in the fire-station bunks. The paramedics countered that they had longer work shifts and dealt with more abuse from patients than the police.

“Nobody fights the girl with the gun,” one of them insisted, “but they think they can talk to us any way they want to.”

“Yeah, and the families are worse. They all think that being able to use WebMD is equivalent to medical training. Everyone is ready to call their attorney if we don’t do what they think we should.”

“Well, their taxes do pay our salary, you know,” one of the police officers said, sarcasm heavy in her voice, and they all nodded in agreement, clearly having heard some version of this statement.

“Okay, ladies, let’s not go down that path,” Evelyn said as she rejoined them. “At least not until I’ve had a couple of beers.” As the group headed for the parking lot, Evelyn spoke to Melanie. “The others are going out for pizza. Do you want to?”

“Yes. Becca already asked me.”

“Oh.” Evelyn glanced at Becca, her eyes darkening in an emotion Melanie didn’t recognize.

“Is it okay if I go? Do you mind me tagging along?”

“Of course not. That’s great.”

She watched for a moment longer, trying to discern the change in Evelyn’s mood, but she’d closed off any hint on the surface.

Chapter Eleven

Evelyn held the door open and waited until the rest of her friends entered before she followed them inside. They trailed through the tables dotting the front of the dining room and into an alcove to the left of the bar. By the time they all filed in, their server had pushed together two tables and the group began to settle in.

Becca slipped into the chair next to Melanie, and when she leaned closer to speak quietly to Melanie, jealousy churned in Evelyn’s stomach. She jerked her eyes away and dropped into a seat diagonal from them.

Alisha, one of the other paramedics, sat down next to her and touched her shoulder. “Nice shooting today.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, I think I still have some of your paint behind my ear.” She brushed back her straight, ebony hair. “Would you check for me?”

She smiled at Alisha’s obvious ploy but didn’t want to embarrass her, so she leaned in as expected and examined the pale skin of Alisha’s neck.

“All clear,” she said, inhaling Alisha’s flowery scent before she sat back.

“Thank you.” Alisha brushed her fingers over her forearm.

“No problem.” Alisha’s caress didn’t elicit the tingle she’d experienced earlier when she touched Melanie.

Across the table, Melanie smiled at Becca and her stomach clenched. What was she feeling? Even as the question flashed through her brain, she recoiled against the answer. She could
not
be attracted to Melanie Cook. She had a gorgeous, interested woman sitting right next to her, so she had no business looking at Melanie. Besides, Melanie should be dating someone like Becca, who was smart, sexy, and, most importantly, not Kendall’s best friend. But she couldn’t keep her eyes from Melanie, and she apparently was so deluded that she imagined Melanie was looking at her, too.

When their eyes met for the third time in what seemed like a matter of minutes, she didn’t think she’d imagined it. Could they really be sitting here sneaking glances at each other, despite getting attention from two perfectly nice, safe women?

Perhaps she felt protective of Melanie. She’d invited her along with this group and now felt obligated to watch out for her. She might be able to convince herself that was true, but just then Becca winked at Melanie and covered her hand on the table. She curled her fingers, letting her nails bite into her palm. She could talk in circles for as long as she wanted, but the fact was, she wanted to be the one holding Melanie’s hand. And despite how this new development freaked her out, her damp palms and the nervous flutter in her stomach told her it was true. But that didn’t mean she had to act on it, did it?

Vowing to keep things platonic, she forced herself to concentrate instead on having a pleasant evening with the other women at their table. She ordered another beer and listened to Alisha’s story about the debacle of her brother’s wedding the weekend before. Over the next round, she and one of the other officers swapped tales of their days in the academy so many years ago.

By the time they settled their checks two hours later, she tallied five beers and two shots of tequila on her tab. When she stood to pull on her coat, the force of those drinks rocked her. She should have paced herself a bit better. She’d have to leave her car and call a cab.

“You okay?” Melanie asked, seeming to suddenly appear beside her.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. When she tried to move around the chairs pushed haphazardly away from their table, she stumbled, then quickly righted herself. Melanie placed a steadying hand on the inside of her elbow.

“I’ll take you home.”

“’S okay. Taxi.” Her head swam and forming a sentence took too much effort.

“You took care of me when I was drunk—”

“Not drunk.”

“So let me repay you.” Melanie ignored her protest and steered her through the front door.

Becca touched Melanie’s shoulder and jealousy punched Evelyn in the gut. She imagined grabbing Becca’s hand and twisting her offending fingers. “Do you want to drive Evelyn’s car and I’ll follow you and bring you back to your truck?”

“No, thanks, Becca. She can retrieve her car tomorrow.”

“At least let me help you get her into your truck.” Becca tried to grasp Evelyn’s other arm, but she jerked it free.

“I can walk just fine.” She pulled free from both of them and sauntered over to Melanie’s truck. “And stop talking about me like I can’t hear you.” When she heard the locks click, she opened the door and flung herself up into the passenger seat. Melanie lingered outside with Becca, and she closed the door quickly so she wouldn’t have to hear their good-byes.

In the few minutes until Melanie got in the truck, she began to sober up. The edges remained blurred, but she regained her grasp on details and then quickly wished she hadn’t. She’d like to be inebriated enough that she wouldn’t notice the lean muscles in Melanie’s forearm as she grasped the wheel or wonder if the worn denim covering her thighs felt as soft as it looked.

“Get a grip,” she mumbled, realizing too late that she’d spoken aloud.

“What?” Melanie asked.

“Nothing.”She slumped against the door, hoping Melanie would dismiss her words as drunken rambling.

She wanted to ask if Melanie was interested in Becca but didn’t want to hear the answer. Though she was the one who’d been telling Melanie she would someday be ready again, she didn’t want to know if Melanie had turned that corner. So instead, they rode in silence until they reached her neighborhood and parked in a spot in front of her condo.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem. And thank you for today. I had fun.” Melanie turned toward her.

“Me, too.” She wanted to escape the truck, but at the same time she longed to spend more time with Melanie. She searched for something to prolong their conversation and ended up nervously blurting, “I’m so glad we’ve been hanging out.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know if we would stay friends after the breakup.”

“Why not?” She had a pretty good idea what the answer would be, but she really didn’t want to talk about Kendall.

“I wasn’t sure we had enough in common other than Kendall. But these past couple of weeks, it’s been like getting to know you all over again—or in a different way.”

“Yeah.”
What a dope. “Yeah.” Is that the most intelligent thing you can say right now?

“I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.”

The genuine warmth in Melanie’s words brought a flush to Evelyn’s face. “Me, too.”

“When I decided to end my relationship, I had mentally prepared to miss her, but I wasn’t ready to let you go.” The low timbre of Melanie’s voice vibrated in the still cab of the truck, making the few feet between them not nearly enough space.

“Your voice has never done that before,” she said, unable to stop the words before they slipped out. Why did she keep saying things in her outside voice?

“Done what?”

Turned me on so completely.
Those words she somehow kept locked down. She stared at Melanie, her mind racing for some explanation for what she was feeling. “Uh—never mind.”

“Ev?”

Jesus, one syllable.
The shortening of her name wasn’t new, but she’d never heard it caressed in quite that way.

“It’s nothing.”

Melanie slid closer and brushed her hand over Evelyn’s shoulder. When Evelyn trembled, Melanie tugged a bit of her sleeve between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s obviously something.”

“I—I’m just tipsy.”

“You said you weren’t drunk.”

She wasn’t.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”

She nodded. But she didn’t mean it. The openness in Melanie’s clear green eyes asked for a confession that she couldn’t give. Guilt kept her from pouring out her growing feelings.

So instead she indulged in a moment more of gazing at Melanie’s face and trying not to think about how soft her full lips looked. When Melanie shifted, a smear of bright-yellow paint peeked out from the neckline of her T-shirt.