Radclyffe - Wild Shores

“It took a couple of goes. The first time was just a few days after I was born, so they tell me. Then again when I was eleven,” Austin said, her hands loosely clasping the wheel, “but, yeah, all’s good.”

“That must have been really hard.” Gem’s heart hurt imagining Austin’s childhood being shadowed by such a serious illness.

Austin glanced over at her. “Long time ago.”

Gem nodded, hearing the pain but recognizing Austin’s attempt to make light of it. Still, the specter of a young Austin dealing with the fear and discomfort filled her with sympathetic sorrow. Wishing to chase away the shadows, or maybe ease her own sadness, she cupped Austin’s jaw and brushed away a trickle of water trailing down her cheek with her thumb. Austin held so very, very still, Gem was reminded of a wild thing, caught and wary and waiting to be freed or destroyed. Freedom was so very often only a breath away from death. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Austin leaned ever so lightly into her palm, or perhaps she imagined that too. If she did, she didn’t care. She couldn’t pull away. She drew Austin’s face closer and kissed her, and when Austin didn’t move back, she let her lips linger, feeling the coolness of the rain disappear from Austin’s soft lips and heat surge against her mouth. She slid her fingers into Austin’s hair, wrapped them around the back of her neck, and stroked her nape as she stroked her mouth. A soft groan escaped from deep in Austin’s chest, and her lips parted in offering. Gem teased a little inside, tasting her, and traced the warm inner surface of her lower lip with the tip of her tongue.

Austin groaned again and gripped her shoulders, her hands hard and wonderfully demanding. Her tongue met Gem’s, hot and firm, turning the kiss into something deeper, something hungrier. Gem gripped Austin’s shirt, clinging to her. Her breasts tightened and her blood beat hard in the pit of her stomach. Her breath came faster, her head grew light. She wanted to climb into Austin’s lap and press against her. She wanted to feel her everywhere. She tugged at Austin’s shirt, found hot skin and hard muscles. She groaned.

Austin jerked back. “Gem. God. Traffic. This isn’t safe.”

“I know.” Not safe for more reasons than Gem could count. She braced her palms against Austin’s chest, holding herself away or she’d kiss her again. She gasped in a breath, another, until she felt like she could speak. “Traffic. Right. God, sorry.”

“I hope not.” Austin curved a hand behind Gem’s head and yanked her close. She kissed her hard, hard enough for Gem to open her mouth and take her in again. God, she wanted to be naked, she wanted Austin’s mouth and hands all over. She wanted in a way she hadn’t wanted since before she knew better. She got a hand between them again, stroked the few inches of skin she’d bared on Austin’s stomach. Needing to feel. Needing. Austin’s hips lifted and Gem’s vision blurred. “Okay, we need to stop.”

Austin groaned. “I know. You feel so damn good.”

“We can’t stay here. And we can’t…” Gem gestured to the front of the car and the wheel and the gearshift and the insanity of what they were doing. She laughed, her voice shaking. “And you know. We can’t.”

Austin slumped back, her hands on her thighs. “Yeah. I know. We can’t.” She glanced over, her face stark with hunger. “But I want to.”

Chapter Six

The silence stretched to fill the car, the air as thick as the swirling mist outside. Ordinarily Austin didn’t mind silence. She enjoyed the quiet, letting it give her mind a place to empty and her body to relax. So much, maybe too much, of her life was spent on the move, but she didn’t stop long enough to wonder if that was what she really wanted. She and Gem had shared long stretches of silences throughout the day, and even with the absence of words she’d been attuned to Gem’s presence—her quiet breathing, the companionship and warmth reaching her as if Gem had extended a hand to touch her. This silence was different, a chasm of uncertainty filled with all they hadn’t said. Her head pounded with her own voice and what she imagined Gem was thinking.

When in doubt, revert to talking about the weather.

“I think the fog’s lifting,” Austin said.

“We’re on a roll, then. I’m catching a cell signal,” Gem said, staring at her phone. She flicked through a few screens. “NOAA predicts a chain of fronts moving through over the next few days.” She laughed a little mirthlessly. “I believe we’re about to experience the calm before the next storm.”

“I don’t mind if it gives us a shot at getting to the coast.” Grateful for any sign of normalcy, Austin leaned over and switched to an alternate route on the GPS. “What do you think? Shall we try to skirt around this and take the coast road south? If it doesn’t work out, it could end up taking us longer.”

“I don’t mind taking a chance,” Gem said quietly.

Trying to decipher some hidden meaning to that statement and deciding anything she guessed would be wishful thinking, Austin turned off onto a local road that would take them to the shore road on the ocean side of the peninsula. During the season the narrow two-lane was congested and traffic crawled for miles as the chain of tiny coastal towns strung along the shoreline filled with tourists, but in mid-September, they were preparing for the long off-season, when many of the local stores closed, the motels shuttered, and the year-round inhabitants scrambled to make a living or went on public assistance until the tourists returned in spring along with the birds.

Birds. Gem’s passion.

“Tell me about the birds,” Austin said.

“What about them?” Gem sounded slightly suspicious, as if she couldn’t fathom why Austin would ask.

“Anything.” Anything just so I can hear your voice. Austin glanced at her, wondering if her desperation showed in her eyes and not really caring. They had so little time. She just wanted them not to be strangers for a little while longer. “Why do they migrate in the first place?”

“We don’t really know—we can only surmise from their behavior.” Gem chuckled. “Like with so many things. Anyhow, something signals them to migrate. That cue isn’t necessarily the same for every species—sometimes it’s the shortening of the day, or the change in nighttime temperatures, or a reduction in their food supply. Certainly genetics plays a part. The exact combination of factors probably varies from species to species, but even first-time migrants know where to go when the time comes.”

Despite wishing the damn birds were flying anywhere but right toward them, Austin was fascinated. By the phenomenon all on its own, and by Gem’s enthusiasm most of all. “Do they always come back to the same places when they migrate?”

“Many do—especially the long-distance migrants that travel from Canada as far south as Central America. Some locations, like the area around Rock Hill Island, are what we call migrant traps. Popular stopovers for large numbers of birds.” Gem smiled. “And of course, favorite spots for researchers, conservationists, and amateur birdwatchers.”

“Migrant traps.” Austin winced inside. Perfect. Not only did she have to worry about shore contamination, she had to deal with a threat to a pivotal location for people and wildlife.

“Mmm. That’s part of the reason we study the flyways, so we can identify these areas of high species concentration and protect them. The island sanctuary is one of the stopping points along the Atlantic Flyway.” Gem hesitated. She loved talking about birds, and she didn’t mind skirting around the topic Austin obviously didn’t want to discuss any more than she did. Like the elephant sitting in the backseat leaning over their shoulders. The kiss neither one of them wanted to acknowledge. She was grateful for the surcease. Maybe in a few more hours she’d be able to sort out her own feelings about it, but right now she was as surprised by the kiss as Austin probably was. Other than that first insane kiss with Christie ages ago, she’d never done anything so uncontrolled. And this time, she’d done it with a clear head, absolutely for herself and no one else. Unlike that first time, when she’d done it more out of desperation to save things with Paul than anything else. This time she’d kissed a woman first because she wanted to. She’d wanted to touch Austin, taste her, delve inside her. The question was why, and she hadn’t an answer. “Do you really want to hear about all this?”