Gerri Hill: One Summer Night

"Dance with me," Kelly said softly, and Jo was powerless to refuse. She moved into her arms eagerly, refusing to think about what she was inviting. Kelly held her tightly, both arms behind Johanna's back as Jo slid her arms over Kelly's shoulders, pulling her close. They danced together slowly, feet barely moving, bodies pressed together. Jo closed her eyes and let the music wash over her, breathing deeply as she smelled the perfume at Kelly's neck. Her lips pressed there before she knew what she was doing, and she heard Kelly's sharp intake of breath, felt her arms tighten around her. It was the rum, she reasoned. Why else would she be acting so wantonly? Kelly moved her head, and her lips found Jo's in an instant. Her own mouth opened. Feeling the tip of Kelly's tongue, she thought her knees would buckle from desire. Her own tongue found its way into Kelly's mouth, and she moaned deep in her throat, forget-ting the other couples dancing around them. Kelly pulled her into a dark corner in the back and pressed her against the wall, her hand boldly cupping Jo’s breast. Jo leaned into her, her nipples hard and sensitive to Kelly’s touch. Their kiss was hungry, passionate, tongues dancing, desire growing.

"I want you," Kelly whispered into her mouth.

"Yes," Jo agreed. God, how she wanted her, too.

"Let's get out of here."

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Copyright 2000 by Gerri Hill

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechani-cal, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper.

First Published 2000 by Rising Tide Press First Edition

Cover designer: Sandy Knowles

ISBN 1-59493-007-4

Acknowledgements

I started writing One Summer Night in June of 1994. And it was hot, especially after having spent the last few years in the moun-tains of Colorado! The softball team is a tribute to the city league team I labored on every Monday and Thursday night (when I was much younger!). Bev, the pitcher, was the leader, but I'm not sure if it was because she was the pitcher or because her mother owned a beer joint at the edge of town. The locals all raised their eyebrows when the team came to visit! Thanks to all those gals who made playing ball so much fun, especially Lori, who liked her women "sporty" and not "fluffy"!

I also want to thank Bella Books and Linda Hill for considering publishing One Summer Night, and thanks to those of you who have enough interest to pick it up again.

Also, a quick thank you to Stephanie Solomon, queen of Academy of Bards, who has been "itching" to get her hands on One SummerNight for years! And thanks, too, to my good friend, Marquita, (whose husband will die to know this!), who found Kelly Sambino to be "hot"!

I hope you all enjoy this, my first attempt at writing a little romance.

About the Author

Gerri lives in the Piney Woods of East Texas with her partner, Diane, and their two labs, Zach and Max. The resident cats Sierra, Tori and now Jordan, round out the household.

Hobbies include any outdoor activity, from tending the or-chard and vegetable garden to hiking in the woods with camera and binoculars. For more, visit Gerri's website at: www.gerrihill.com

Chapter One

It was hot. Much too hot for June, she thought, as she pointed the air conditioning vent toward her face and sped down MoPac in her new black Mazda. Peering out the sunroof she saw nothing but blue skies, not even one puffy white cloud to shield the sun. She grimaced. Summer in Austin had hit with a bang.

Again she wondered why she had let herself be talked into going to the softball tournament. Betsy, her best friend, had been calling all week asking her to come until she had finally relented. Summer was her time. Her time to be alone and catch up on all the things she had missed during the year.

With no classes to teach until the fall semester, she wanted to spend the summer going to Lake Travis when the mood 1

hit and catching up on her reading, not sitting in the hot sun watching women run around the bases. But Betsy had argued that if she was ever to meet anyone, she had to get out. Well, Johanna Marshall didn't want to meet anyone, she stubbornly insisted, but Betsy wouldn't hear of it.

"You're only thirty-six. My God, you're acting as if your life is over and you've resigned yourself to being an old maid.

"I'm not an old maid. I'm just not interested in a relationship right now," she told her.

"Who's talking relationship? You never go out, Jo. I hate to think of you always being by yourself. It's been three years, you know."

"I'm well aware of how long it's been."

"Then come out with us. We'll drink a few beers and cheer them on."

So, she had agreed finally. After all, it had been over three years since Nancy left her to return to New York. A job transfer, she had said. Johanna laughed bitterly to herself. Three years had not squelched her anger. When she found out Nancy had been secretly seeing someone else for nearly six months before she and her new girlfriend had both up and moved, Johanna had been devastated. How could she have been so blind that she hadn’t noticed? Had she grown so complacent in their relationship that it just never occurred to her that Nancy had become distant? That Nancy had another lover? They had spent four years together, the last two sharing Jo's house on Bull Creek, and she had been naive enough to think things were perfect between them.

She shook her head, not wanting to dredge up those old memories. Instead, she concentrated on driving, hands tight on the wheel as Saturday traffic zoomed by around her. She was still protective of her new car, and had not yet reverted to her usual habit of cutting in and out of traffic. Spotting her exit, she was soon just a few blocks from the large 2

complex of ball fields in South Austin. An acre of cars filled the parking area. Johanna remembered Betsy had said it was the largest women's tournament Austin had ever hosted.

Teams from all over Texas, as well as a few from other states, were there.

She finally found a parking space on the back row and opened her door to the heat. She scowled again. Summer in Austin was not her favorite time of year. Oh, she loved going to the lake and floating in her tube on Bull Creek, but each year the summers seemed to last longer and longer. She was thankful she had worn a tank top. The slight breeze was not helping much. She pulled the top away from her breasts, fanning cool air inside. She rarely wore a bra, one benefit to being small-breasted, she thought. Probably the only benefit. Taking her lawn chair and her small cooler of beer from the trunk, she walked to the fields.