The Song in My Heart (16 page)

They were shown to a corner table that afforded them privacy and were left with menus that were plain in design but full of enticing selections. Dess had learned a long time ago, from eating at countless restaurants, that the ones that tried to make their menus look the fanciest didn’t often serve the best food.

Dess decided to start with
som tam
—a spicy papaya salad—while Erika ordered
tom kha
soup. They also ordered a pitcher of homemade ginger lemonade with fresh mint sprigs.

“I have a feeling the food here is going to be amazing,” Dess said.

“It is. Only the best for you, sweetheart.”

“I bet you say that to all your dates.” Something in Dess made her want clarify that this was only a date, nothing more promising than that. Erika was the kind of woman you could fall head over heels in love with, she warned herself. And she wanted—needed—to take things slow.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been on an actual date that I don’t remember what my lines are supposed to be.” Erika’s suggestive smile hinted that she was thinking of their make-out session. But her eyes were the antithesis of playful. “Are you having second thoughts about being on a date with me?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“Good.” Erika appeared to relax but only a little.

Their appetizers arrived, the coconut smell of the
tom kha
soup nearly making Dess regret her salad choice, but as she delivered a forkful to her mouth and tasted the sweet and sour of the shredded papaya, she knew she’d made the right decision.

Watching Erika eat made Dess tingle all over. Her lips, her mouth, were so sexy every time she delicately lifted the spoon to her mouth. And the way she closed her eyes in pleasure with each mouthful nearly made Dess moan, because that blissful look reminded her of the endless, passionate kisses they’d shared. And of how they’d nearly made love. The thought quickened her pulse, excitement and fear battling for supremacy. Making love was definitely a new and deeper level of commitment, an implied promise of some kind of a future together. At least for Dess it was. And while she wanted Erika with a ferocity that surprised and thrilled her, she feared she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Her head spun with how fast everything was happening, especially for someone who hadn’t dated anyone in years and wasn’t looking for a relationship.

It seemed like it was just last week she’d only met Erika and that it was just yesterday she’d first become aware of the growing attraction between them. And now…now they were at the stage of kissing and making out and looking at each other like they couldn’t wait to get out of here and rip each other’s clothes off. When did all this happen?

“Earlier…” Erika said, appraising Dess again with those penetrating eyes. She leaned closer and lowered her voice, sending another tingling current through Dess. “When we were making out, you said you were scared to go too fast. Will you tell me what you mean? What you’re scared of?”

She did not, as she gazed into those deep, dark pools, want to be scared of anything with Erika.
I want to trust you
, she thought.
I want to be safe with you.
She’d been burned so badly before, she didn’t know if she could let someone fully inside anymore. She took a deep breath, knowing Erika would not allow her question to be dismissed.

“I guess,” Dess replied, setting down her sweating glass of ginger lemonade, “I’m afraid of getting serious too soon. We still have three months ahead of us on this tour, and—”

“Are you worried we’ll have a falling out and won’t be able to work together?”

“Partly, of course. Or that it will somehow change the dynamics between us and interfere with our work.”

“Do you trust that we’re both professionals? That we can keep the two areas separate?”

Dess thought about that and knew Erika was right. “Yes, I do trust that we can handle working together no matter what’s going on in our personal life.”

“All right, we’ve got that out of the way.” Erika smiled softly. “Is it the age thing?”

Unable to help herself, Dess laughed. “Have you ever used a dial telephone? Or a typewriter?”

Erika smiled a little sheepishly, then laughed. “No, but if it will make you feel better I’ll visit the nearest antique shop so I can say yes.”

Still smiling, Dess said, “No, I’m only kidding. Getting to know the woman you are has definitely removed the age thing from the equation.”
Except—oh God, she’ll be relentless in bed, absolutely voracious. How the hell am I going to keep up?
Then Dess was struck with the thought that if she couldn’t keep up, that was more than okay.
I’ll just lie back and enjoy!

“You’re blushing.”

Dess raised a hand to her cheek. Yup, it was warm. “You caught me. I was thinking about…certain things.” She felt her blush deepen as Erika’s eyes shone with pleasure.

“I definitely want to hear more about those thoughts,” Erika whispered as their large bowl of shared
pad thai
was set in front of them.

Watching Erika eat again, Dess was overcome by the urge to kiss her. To taste the lime and ginger on her lips. To explore that luscious, warm mouth with her tongue. She wanted to be dizzy with desire again, to ache from want. More than anyone she’d met in the last six years, Erika could make her forget all those reasons that had held her back from relationships before.
Reasons? Hell, what reasons?
she wondered, now unable to think of a single good one.

Erika’s voice snapped her out of her lightheadedness. “So what are you really scared of, Dess? With me.”

Dess took another bite, stalling for time. She knew Erika deserved a truthful explanation, but it was going to dredge up a lot of memories she’d hoped were buried for good. “Can we wait until later, when we’re alone?”

“Sure. So in the meantime, how about you tell me what you were thinking of when you were blushing?”

Dess felt heat infusing her cheeks again. She couldn’t think of Erika now and
not
think about kissing her while they were rolling around on the floor. And how turned on she was as Erika had cupped her breast and stroked her through her bra. Days ago she’d begun wearing nice underwear with the secret hope that things might soon escalate between them. She had to cross her legs now to stem the rush of desire flooding through her. How, she wondered, could she have gone from entrenched celibacy to
this
in such a short time?

“If I tell you,” Dess finally said, “they’ll need to call the fire department to hose me down.”

Erika growled playfully. “If you’re wanting to get wet, I can think of a few ways.”

Dess nearly choked on her noodles.
Christ, I’m already wet. Don’t you know that?

“Sorry,” Erika said, clearly not sorry at all.

The waiter asked them if they wanted coffee, but Dess and Erika only needed to look at each other in a tacit agreement that they had to get the hell out of here.

* * *

While Dess was out on a short stroll with Maggie, Erika poured them each a glass of white wine, then lit the half-dozen candles she’d hurriedly placed around the living room. Her iPod was ready to go with a romantic playlist she’d put together last night after Dess had gone to bed, wanting to be prepared for anything. She smoothed her hands over her jeans, released another button on her white cotton blouse to reveal yet more cleavage. She wanted Dess to look at her again the way she’d looked at her over dinner. Like she wanted to eat her.
Oh please
, she thought hopefully,
eat me up as though I’m the last thing there is between you and starvation!

But as much as she wanted to make love with Dess, she wanted so much more. She wanted all of Dess. Wanted her secrets, her joys, her tears, her laughter, her fears—all of it. She wanted them to have a future together, but she was realistic enough to know that wasn’t going to happen until Dess fully trusted her. There were still things, she felt, that Dess wasn’t telling her.

Dess and Maggie bounded through the door, Maggie immediately marching up to her as if to tell her all about their walk.

“Did you have fun on your walk?” Erika said to the dog, patting its smooth head.

“Wow,” Dess said, looking around appreciatively. “Candles and wine. I’m impressed.”

Erika hit the play switch on her iPod docking station, then handed Dess a glass of wine. Tracy Chapman began singing about a fast car. “If I’m not mistaken, you promised me a dance.”

Dess set down her glass of wine. There was a hint of a question in her eyes, but there was no hesitation in the beckoning gesture she made with her hand. Erika wanted to run into her arms, where she knew she would feel sheltered, as though her heart had found its home. Instead, she walked up to Dess, placed a hand gently on her left hip, and held up her other hand, which Dess quickly clasped. They began to sway together in time to the music, their bodies keeping a respectable distance apart, as though they were strangers.

Ha, that’s a laugh
, Erika thought. Only a few hours ago they’d been making out like a couple of teenagers, fitting together on the floor like the pieces of a puzzle slotting into place. They’d gotten to first base, she supposed. Or was feeling up Dess second base? Na, she thought, probably just first base. Second base definitely would have entailed a little bit of nudity. The thought made her gasp out loud.

“You okay?”

“I’m good. More than good. Except I really need to hold you closer.”

Dess stepped closer. “You only needed to ask, you know.”

“Hmm, that simple, is it?” Erika purred. If that were true, she had plenty of things she wanted to ask Dess. Like asking her to get down on her knees, for one. Taking off all her clothes for another.
Oh God, stop it! She wants to go slow, remember?

“You’re burning up,” Dess whispered. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little overheated, that’s all. Okay, more like a little overexcited.”

“Then maybe we should take a little break.” She led Erika by the hand to the sofa, where they collected their glasses of wine.

Taking a break was the last thing Erika wanted, but it was probably the wise thing to do. Any minute now, she was going to explode.

“Can we talk?” Dess asked, her eyes hard to read in the low light.

“Of course. I’d love to talk.”
And as soon as I make love to you about fifteen times, we can talk all you want.

“Earlier,” Dess said, the seriousness in her voice immediately sobering Erika, “you asked me the real reason why I was scared to get serious about you. About us.”

“Yes?” Erika’s heart pounded like steel against an anvil. A part of her was afraid to know the answer.

“I…” Dess took a slow sip of her wine first. “I need to be sure this isn’t just a fling for you. Because I don’t want this to be only about sex.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Erika took Dess’s hands in hers. “Of course it’s not a fling. I don’t do flings. And even if I did, I would never waste a fling on you.”

Dess’s eyebrows rose adorably. “You wouldn’t?”

“Of course I would. I mean…no, that’s not right. I wouldn’t. Waste it, I mean. Because I’d love to…you know, but not in a way that…oh shit, I’m making this worse, aren’t I?”

Dess threw her head back and laughed.
Oh, that neck
, Erika thought with a fresh wave of desire.
So soft, so smooth, and the sexy way it curves. I want to kiss that. Now!

Instead, she quickly gathered herself. “What I really mean to say is that sex with you would be like the cherry on an ice cream sundae. And what I want is the whole sundae.”

Dess swallowed visibly, all traces of laughter gone. “I’ve never had a good relationship. I don’t even know if I know how. Honestly? Relationships scare the shit out of me.”

“They scare me too. I’m no expert at them, but I’m not afraid to fail.”

“I think I am,” Dess whispered. “But I don’t want to be.”

Erika took her into her arms and rocked her gently, and for a long time they didn’t speak, just listened to the quiet guitar picking of Jesse Cook on the iPod. Erika kissed Dess’s forehead, ran her fingers through the soft stands of her hair, wanting to promise a litany of things. She’d promise her the world right now. But Dess didn’t need her promises. Dess needed time to see that her actions meant more than words.

“You know that I was hurt before,” Dess finally continued. “And I don’t know if it’s fair to blame everything on Dayna, but I don’t want to start something with someone who might leave me again when the chips are down. That’s what I truly fear.”

“Dess—”

“No, let me finish, please. I’m cancer-free now, but there are no guarantees.”

“Of course there aren’t. There never are. With anything.”

“Erika—”

“No, Dess. Wait.” She tilted Dess’s chin up so they could look into each other’s eyes. “I’m not a quitter. I would
never
do that to you. I play for keeps, okay?”

A tear trickled down Dess’s cheek. Tenderly, Erika wiped it away. Then she pressed her lips to Dess’s because she needed that connection between them. Trust was going to take time, she reminded herself. But a kiss was a damned good start.

She was about to pull away when Dess surprised her by throwing her arms around her neck and pulling her closer. She pressed her body into Erika’s, pressed her mouth harder into hers and instantly deepened their kiss until they were both gasping for air.

“If you keep kissing me like that,” Erika said hoarsely, “I can’t be responsible for my actions.”

She could feel Dess smiling against her cheek. “Feeling a little animalistic?”

“Oh, if you only knew,” Erika said, silently acknowledging to herself that she would remain in a tangle of pleasure-pain for as long as she was around Dess. There was no release from this. Even if Dess were to make her come six times right now, she’d never get her out of her blood, never be liberated from her insatiable desire for her.

“Then maybe we should settle things down with another dance.” Dess held out her hand. “I love this Uncle Kracker song.”