Radclyffe - Crossroads

“You must be happy, then.”

“Mostly I’m tired.” Hollis hesitated. “Look, Annie, there’s something you need to know about Ned.”

Annie frowned. “What?”

“Right after you and I first met, when you were so angry about the surgery I performed, I asked Ned to review your case. I didn’t think the two of you would likely cross paths—hell, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“What? I didn’t mean to breach your privacy—”

“No, not that.” Annie waved a hand impatiently. “I’m not embarrassed that he knows, although he never let on that he recognized me. Why did you ask him to look at my case?”

Hollis sighed. “I thought if you had an independent opinion you might feel better about the outcome. He said—”

“I don’t care what he said,” Annie said, the realization lifting a weight from her spirit. “You did what you thought you had to do.”

“I want you to know he agreed. Maybe it doesn’t make any difference now—”

“Thank you.” Annie brushed her fingers through Hollis’s hair. “Thank you for caring enough to do that. It means a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, Annie.” Hollis caught Annie’s hand and kissed her palm.

Hollis’s lips were warm and incredibly soft. Annie cupped Hollis’s neck, felt the blood rush under her fingertips, felt soft skin, the faint sheen of perspiration. Hollis looked at her, waiting, giving her the choice. It was so simple to make. So terrifyingly simple. Annie leaned closer and kissed her.

Chapter Twenty-two

Hollis didn’t believe Annie was really going to kiss her, but at the last second, she did. Hollis’s mind went completely blank. She’d been raised to think on her feet—indoctrinated by a family of alpha males and one iron-willed matriarch to bounce back no matter what came her way, to keep a clear head, to fear nothing. She’d chosen a career that tested her a hundred times a day. She didn’t falter when faced with unexpected situations, never panicked at critical junctures where her wrong decision could mean the difference between success and unimaginable disaster. And now she couldn’t think. Couldn’t move—all because the warmest, softest, sweetest lips she’d ever known whispered over hers.

The kiss seemed to go on forever, at least it felt as if her heart stopped for that long, but when Annie drew back it had probably only been a second or two. Hollis blinked and the sun was still in the same position hanging low over the horizon. Her hearing returned and she was surrounded by the sounds of children laughing, dogs barking, the murmur of conversation floating across the pond. Callie still crouched at the water’s edge, carefully tossing food to the ducks. Everything was exactly as it had been, only everything had changed.

Annie’s face was inches away, so close the amber flecks in her deep green irises glowed with reflected sunlight. Her lips were still parted, moist and full. Hollis held her breath, absorbing the roaring in her head into every cell. Imprinting the memory.

“Well,” Annie said with merest hint of breathlessness, “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I,” Hollis said, and her voice sounded rusty and unused. She glanced down and saw Annie’s fingers curled around her wrist. She didn’t remember Annie’s hand moving from her neck. The press of Annie’s fingertips to her nape still radiated in warm currents down her spine. She quivered inside and her hips tensed in anticipation. She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through Annie’s. The kiss had ended, but something else had begun—something she was afraid to examine and terrified of losing. “I don’t even have a next move.”

“Well,” Annie said again, color rising into her face. Her neck flushed a delicate rose as far down as the pale skin in the open collar of her white shirt. “Should I apologize?”

“I can’t imagine what for.” Hollis pictured the silky skin of Annie’s throat under her lips, imagined kissing her way down to that soft, pink expanse framed by the snow-white triangle of Annie’s shirt. Her fingers trembled to caress flesh. Her thighs tensed with sudden pressure. Her nipples peaked, hard and aching. Such a delicate kiss and she was burning.

“I didn’t think if you wanted—”

“I wanted,” Hollis said quickly. “Oh yeah, I most definitely wanted.”

“That’s good, then.” Annie smiled crookedly.

“Yeah. Good. Excellent.” Hollis ached to kiss her back. She didn’t. She’d never be able to kiss her for just a brief second, and they were outside surrounded by kids and dogs and ducks and Callie was fifteen feet away. She wanted Annie naked, she wanted her undone. No, she definitely couldn’t kiss her out here. Maybe not anywhere until she found her sanity. “Why?”

“Why what?”

Annie still hadn’t moved away and her body swayed toward Hollis. If Hollis leaned just a little, Annie’s breasts would…

Hollis sucked in a breath and edged away a fraction. “What made you…you know…just now.”

“Oh.” Annie laughed and pursed her lips. “You looked like you needed a kiss. A little tired, a little sad. You’re usually so indomitable.”

“Wow. That’s…it wasn’t a pity kiss or anything, was it?”

Annie’s eyes widened. “I’m not doing this right at all. I needed to kiss you—I couldn’t help it. You…make me feel all sorts of things I don’t usually feel.”

Relief and pleasure stirred in Hollis’s belly. “Is that right.”

“That’s very right.” Annie laughed.

The husky, sexy sound went straight to Hollis’s groin. At this rate she was going to burst into flames. “Jesus, Annie, have a heart here.”

“What?” Annie asked in a tone that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing.

“You have a really sexy laugh.”

Annie caught her lower lip between her teeth, an altogether innocent move that had Hollis’s thighs twitching.

“About the kiss. One more thing,” Annie said.

“What?” Hollis managed to get out.

“I really like your ass.”

Hollis felt her mouth drop open. “Okay. You took me by surprise before, but now I’m speechless.”

Annie’s smile grew into a look of playful satisfaction. “What? You’ve never had a woman tell you you’ve got a great ass before?”

“Uh…” Hollis shook her head. “Actually, no.”

“Well, you’ve been wasting your time on women who don’t deserve you, then.”

Hollis grinned. “Maybe so. Whatever the reason, thanks.”

“Thanks?”

“For the kiss.”

“I wasn’t kidding about wanting to kiss you.” Annie shook her head. “I’m tired of not admitting what I feel. I’ve been thinking about kissing you for days.”

Hollis kissed Annie’s knuckles. “I’m not tired or sad now. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

“You know,” Annie said, looking suddenly serious, “I was thinking while you were telling me about your patient today, that it’s not fair to put those kinds of decisions on you. It’s not fair that you have to accept the anger and pain and displaced blame from patients like me.”

“It’s not about being fair. I signed up for it,” Hollis said.

Annie smiled wistfully. “I doubt very much you signed up for guilt by proxy.”

Hollis brushed her thumb over the corner of Annie’s mouth. “Annie, you have every right to be hurt and angry and disappointed about what happened to you. None of what you went through was fair, and I’m part of that. I know when you look at me, you think about that night.” She blew out a breath. “I wish we could go back—”

“No.” Annie pressed her fingers to Hollis’s mouth. “No. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want the past crowding into the present any longer, but I don’t know how to change it.”