The Right Time (74 page)

On the last Friday of January, Hennessy was working on a course description for a future class. Their second session had gone even better than the first, with Miranda’s students, in particular, raving about her. She was heading off to a reading in Charleston, and had left during lunch, after sharing a tender goodbye with Townsend.

Allowing herself to relax a bit, Hennessy had decided she was able to take the weekend off. As soon as she finished up, Townsend was going to give her a ride to the McDonald’s to catch the bus home.

The front door opened and two sets of steps approached. Before Hennessy could blink, a woman entered, turned Townsend’s chair around, plucked her from it and planted a long, stunningly friendly kiss upon her lips.

A sexy giggle escaped as Townsend wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck and returned the kiss with equal fervor. The intern who’d delivered Nicole stood in the doorway, his mouth hanging open wide enough to draw flies.

“They’ve met,” Hennessy told him, standing to offer a greeting when and if the kissing ceased. The intern took off, probably to take a cold shower. Hennessy had no such need, even though she, too, was generally fond of watching pretty women kiss. But having one of those pretty women be Townsend was not the way to rev her motor. Her motor was about to seize up, maybe permanently.

She was going to clear her throat, just in case they’d forgotten she was there, but Townsend had the decency to pull away, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She settled her hair and pulled her blouse back into place when she said, “Hennessy, I assume you’ve guessed this is Nicole?”

Trying to look natural, Hennessy extended her hand. “I had a hunch. It’s great to meet you, Nicole.”

Draping an arm around Townsend’s shoulders, Nicole leaned her head over, resting against Townsend’s like they were a matched set. “Sorry for that very public display of affection. I saw Townsend and couldn’t help myself.”

“No problem,” Hennessy managed. “Did you have a good flight?”

“It was a little rocky, but well worth it.” She gazed at Townsend, her desire poorly hidden. “Can you take off now?”

Townsend gave Hennessy a quick look. “You’re leaving soon, too, right?”

“I am,” she said, waiting for the offer of that ride.

“Great. We’ll see you on Monday.” She grabbed her tote bag, not even bothering to fill it with work like she usually did. She was clearly only planning on one kind of work this weekend—between the sheets.

“Yeah. Monday. Uhm…have a good weekend.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Hennessy,” Nicole said as she guided Townsend from the office, both of them percolating with excitement.

Growling angrily, Hennessy stuffed a few things into her backpack, turned off her computer and headed over to the administration cabin, hoping there was an intern free to give her a ride to the bus. With such a promising start to the weekend, she might as well plan a visit to Mamma’s and make it a real suck-fest.

The masters’ section drew students of a different caliber. More serious, much more experienced, and, for the most part, less finicky.

Hennessy spent all of Monday sneaking into each of the four sections, finding herself mesmerized by her old prof, Dr. Kincaid. The woman had the gift—the ability to lock a student into her seat, hoping the lesson went on for hours. But Nicole was good, too, using wry humor to charm her group of fifteen students.

By the end of the day, Hennessy felt great about her hires, and confident the students would easily get their money’s worth. She and Townsend sat in their office, closing out any problems before day’s end. Nicole swept in, her possessiveness already grating on Hennessy’s nerves.

“Who wants to have dinner with me?” she asked as she leaned over and spoke right into Townsend’s ear. You could tell Townsend ate that kind of thing up. Her cheeks flushed and she shivered as Nicole stayed right there, nuzzling against her.

“Me. Pick me,” she said, giggling.

“If you two want to be alone, you’d better get going before people start sauntering in,” Hennessy said. “Unless you want to hear how the day went for the other instructors.”

“I can hear that tomorrow,” Nicole said. “Tonight, I’ve got my mind set on one person, and she’s right here. Ready?”

“Sure am.” Townsend got up and took Nicole’s hand. “You don’t mind, do you, Hennessy?”

“Course not. You two have fun.”

She watched them leave, with Townsend once again not bothering to take a lick of work home with her. Hennessy sat there for a second, then shut her computer down. She might have been dumped like yesterday’s trash, but she’d still have a charming dinner companion. Dr. Kincaid was undoubtedly free, given that she didn’t know another soul in South Carolina. Not as charming as Townsend, but that was a tall order. Kate Chopin comprised her feelings perfectly. “A person can’t have everything in this world; and it was a little unreasonable of her to expect it.”

They stopped at the store, with Townsend leading the way down the aisles to pick up some of her usual standbys. “You eat chicken, right?”

“I do. No beef or pork, but I’ll have chicken once in a while.”

“Then I’ll just buy a little, and load up on veggies. Good?”

“Perfect,” Nicole said, still looking at her like she wanted Townsend as the entree. Which wasn’t really such a bad idea…

Once back at the house, Townsend started to prep the vegetables. “Hey, can you go start the grill?”

“Maybe. Do you just turn it on?”

“No, it’s a charcoal grill. It’s more involved than that.”

Nicole bumped her with a hip, trying to dislodge her from her place in front of the sink. “You’d better do it. I’ll take over here.”

“Uhm…” She laughed. “I have no idea how to do it either. Hennessy’s my grill master.”

Nicole’s smile froze on her face. “Every time I talk to you you’re grilling something. How often is she over here?”

“Not all that often,” she said as she left the kitchen to try to do Hennessy’s job. On the way down the stairs, the realization hit her. What a lie she’d told! Hennessy had been over for dinner every single weeknight, save for the very few times they’d gone out. Eight months of shared dinners. Bike rides on the beach. A leisurely paddle after a day stuck in front of their computers. Even moonlight swims during a particularly hot spell in August. They didn’t sleep together, but nearly every other minute of the day found them paired.

Her mind was filled with images of Hennessy and their very comfortable life. The one they’d created here on the island. Their own Shangri-La.

Sick at the thought, Townsend had to admit the truth. They’d become so entwined there was little room for anyone else. But she needed more than Hennessy was able to give. She was far too young to give up sex and intimacy—things Hennessy couldn’t give her.

Standing in front of the grill, Hennessy’s exclusive domain, Townsend tried to imagine if she could be happy with Hennessy during the day and Nicole at night. That
might
work. She’d have all of her needs met. But who would Hennessy have to snuggle up to when the lights went out? If she wasn’t fulfilled, Townsend couldn’t be either. Not even close.

Sighing at the dilemma, she took her phone out and made the call. “Can you walk me through how to start this damned grill? You know I’ve never been trusted with fire.”

The masters’ session was
such an unquestioned success, there was no doubt they’d have to host at least two of them next year.

Hennessy sat in the common room in their cabin, her four masters’ instructors drinking wine and beer while they nibbled on the cheese Townsend had attractively arranged. It was so nice to sit back and listen to a group of women, all exceedingly competent, talk about ways to impart their skills on eager students. It was also fantastic to be able to have a gathering like this and not worry about Townsend being tempted by the alcohol.

Hennessy knew you never got over an addiction, but Townsend was darned close. She now treated alcohol like she did anything else she didn’t care for—like ham hocks. Oh, Hennessy could slip them into a soup, but she had to do it when Townsend wasn’t watching. Sometimes the flavor of a dish had to take precedence over total transparency.

Everyone but Nicole was leaving that night, and the other instructors were soon ferried to their flights—some to Charleston, some to Savannah. Hennessy was about to see what she could scare up in the mess. Even though the staff didn’t prepare dinner on Saturday nights, there was always enough left over to cobble together something resembling a meal.

Townsend came over to stand behind her, then her hands settled onto Hennessy’s shoulders. “Come join us for dinner. Nicole wants to see how someone properly grills a fish.”

“Townsend’s got great skills in the kitchen,” Nicole said, moving over to drape an arm over her shoulders, “but her grilling is a work in progress.”

“I only ruined three meals. And given how little you like chicken, you were probably glad.”

“I wasn’t unhappy,” Nicole agreed. “But I do enjoy fish, and I hate to have one give its life only to be burned to a crisp.”

“Will you bail us out?” Townsend’s hands compressed against her shoulders.

“I’d be delighted. But I can’t guess how we’re all going to fit into your little car.”

“I haven’t been running all week,” Townsend said. “You two stop at the store and I’ll probably beat you.”

“I’ve got to get a bike,” Hennessy said, for the twentieth time that year. Even though she threatened often, she probably wouldn’t buy one. She was as tight as the strings on a fiddle.

They were able to sit on the porch to eat, with the infrared heater really having to bring it. After living in Boston for so long, Hennessy was sure every day in South Carolina was going to feel like summer, but that hadn’t been so. Her true nature returned, and now she was chilly unless it was over sixty-five. She’d become a Southerner again—and she didn’t have a single complaint.

They’d made a teriyaki sauce for the salmon, which she had to admit she’d cooked to perfection. Townsend was making a point about something when she unconsciously reached over and removed a dot of sauce from the side of Hennessy’s mouth with her finger, never missing a word.

But Nicole saw the exchange, and her fork stopped midway to her mouth.

Shit.

Townsend was going to screw this up. Your new girlfriend was never going to like having you treat an old flame like you were current flames.
Goddamn it!
They couldn’t keep being so familiar with one another, but how in the hell did they stop?