CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Jamie’s eyes flew open and she found herself in her bed, a scream lodged in her throat. It was a dream, just a dream. Then she felt the dampness against her legs and felt a flash of panic. "What the hell?" Heart thudding, she sat up, trying to get her mind to re-engage. Her eyes peered into the dark, and it took a moment for her mind to register that it was raining outside. She heard the rain driving against the windows; the slow rumble of thunder, then she felt it - the drop of wet. Good God, was it raining in her bedroom? Still suspended between her dreams and full wakefulness, she could only stare dumbfounded at the ceiling. She stood up on trembling legs and finally came fully awake. The roof was leaking - right over her bed.

"Jesus, that was weird," she told Monster as she brushed a not quite steady hand through her hair. Her eyes found the clock beside her bed. Two a.m. Nerves still jangling, she forced a breath through her body then shoved her bed against the wall to avoid the leak. She went in search of a pail, though she knew she wouldn’t sleep again that night. The dream still danced around in her mind. She turned the radio up loud to try and block out the images. Might as well get some work done, she thought suddenly.

***

"Yep, you got a leak all right."

"Really?"

The sarcasm was lost on the repairman as he scratched his head. The movement stretched his faded blue work shirt over his inflated stomach, and Jamie marveled that the buttons held. He flashed a smile meant to convey charm. "Figure they put a coat of paint over it to hide the stains.

"How much to fix it?"

"Well now…" There was more scratching. "We’ve got to rip the hole and then take a look see under. See what’s rotten. We might…"

"How much?" Jamie interrupted, unable to find her patience.

He glanced at the roof, then back at her. "10Gs if we have to replace the whole thing."

Ten thousand, Jamie thought, wincing internally. For years, Jamie had refused to touch the trust fund set up by her mother after the divorce. The settlement, painfully arrived at under threats of exposure, had been put aside for her daughters’ futures, but Jamie had refused to touch the money. To touch it would be to accept it as reparations for the wrongs done by her father. Now after all that had happened, all that she had found out, it was the least the bastard could have done. She tried not to think about the fact that some of that money might have been garnered from her father’s illicit activities. She nodded. "Fine. When can you start?"

"Well now…" He was wise enough to clue in that she was not willing to wait around. "Tomorrow?"

"Fine." She walked away, waves of tiredness battering at her. She felt unsettled, the previous night tugging at her subconscious. As she was about to enter the house, she heard the car pull in and turned. Surprised, she smiled a little uncertainly at her best friend. She hadn’t seen Alex in weeks. Things had been awkward between them since the case. More so, since Jamie’s leave of absence.

"Is this what a four year university education gets you?" Alex said, looking at the house as she stepped out. Lips pursed, she looked at the faded façade, and Jamie felt rather than saw her puzzlement. She stood at the top of the steps, fighting against the urge to rub her hands on the front of her jeans. That would be recognized for what it was - a sign of nervousness.

Jamie took in the peeling plaster, the cracks, the worn hardwood, the missing planks on the wraparound porch, and her shoulders hunched at the baffled look on Alex’s face. Alex couldn’t figure out why Jamie would leave the force to play house. Jamie gave her the tour, explaining her vision, her plan as they went. Alex remained silent throughout. The silence stretched, and she knew Alex thought she was crazy. When they returned to the living room, her glance noted the chipped fireplace.

"When are you coming back to work?"

Jamie stiffened but kept her tone mild. "I’m not."

Alex’ eyes whipped back to her and she frowned. "Seriously?"

"We’ve gone through this. I’m not."

"Jamie, you needed a break and I understand that. I’ve done the same thing. It is a tough case and you got hurt. But this..." Her wave encompassed the house. "Giving up a promising career just so you can use power tools..." Her words trailed away.

Alex was hurt by the distance between them, hurt and angry that Jamie had not confided in her and been honest about her father, about her past. What she would not admit even to herself was the resentment she felt at having compromised her principles and then been left to deal with the aftermath of the case alone. She was angry that Jamie had resigned without talking to her, without being there to help her find her moral footing again. For the first time in her career she was struggling with the various shades of gray encountered in her work. Black and white issues she could understand, but when feelings entered into the work she was lost and she had not had Jamie to share her concerns with. That hurt.

They made their way back out to the porch and stood uncertainly, unable to find the correct words to bridge the gap. The chasm between them seemed to grow wider as they stood there. Alex tried to think of something else to add. Inside, her heart was breaking for their friendship, and more than anything she wanted to tell Jamie she missed her. Pride held her back. "I should go; Megan is expecting me. I just wanted to say hi and see how you are."

Jamie softened. "Alex, I’m fine. I just need some time, that’s all." In a move reminiscent of their past, she leaned across and kissed her friend on the cheek. "Thanks for caring." They stared at each other and Alex nodded once, then turned to leave.

Jamie turned away and stared at the house. Was she crazy? It did run in the family, after all. On her mother’s side… She shook her head and slowly went up the stairs.

She’d known the house was for her the moment she saw it. She could picture it as it would have been a century before, could imagine what it would look like when she was done with it: the long curving staircase, the polished oak floors, the delicate French doors that opened to the garden, the elegant balls that would have been held in the enormous living room. They would have rolled up the plush carpets to make room for dancing. She didn’t know how she knew this, she just did. Like Alex, anyone else would only see the peeling plaster, the cobwebs, the cracks in the ceiling, the dull marked floors, the wobbling balustrade. Everyone but Darcy, who had been the only one who seemed to understand her need for a fresh start. Darcy was also able to see the beauty beneath the paint and neglect. Without thinking twice about it, Jamie had sold her previous house and bought this one in a single day.

She had always done what was expected of her and maybe that was part of the problem, but now this was for her. She was going to disappoint a bunch of people, but at least she would stop disappointing herself. She was burnt out, no question, hollowed out so that she felt empty from too many days and weekends spent working.

As far as she was concerned, her last case had been the last straw. This thing with Shane - she couldn’t call it anything else but that - had completely sideswiped her, and she needed to lick her wounds in solitude. Dealing with the doubt and fear she had felt standing in her sister’s study and hoping that her sister had nothing to do with the death of their father had left her reeling, uncertain. Until she was certain of her footing again she would work on her house.

Back in the house, she strode to the living room and threw open the French doors to reflect on the view. This was her house. The neglected, tumbled jungle of gardens spread out, snaked through with overgrown and broken bricked paths. There was likely a treasure of planting out there. She’d need a landscaper, but an eager little voice insisted she could do it herself, even if she didn’t know the difference between an annual and a perennial.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jamie worked stolidly, ceaselessly for three days. She kept an eye on the workers as her roof was repaired. She could admit privately that she had no idea what they were doing, but walking around frowning at their efforts seem to have the desired effect and there was little time wasted. She steamed off yellowed wallpaper, stripped bare the hardwood floors. In the evenings she nursed her blisters and aching muscles while poring through house and home magazines. At night she slept little, fighting off too many recurring nightmares, but the lack of sleep seemed not to affect her as she woke with the dawn, ready to tackle one more project.

On one such morning, she went through the house making an inventory of the projects left so that she could prioritize them. She was good at that. She reached for a doorknob, the brass dulled with time and neglect. As her hand closed over the knob, her head began to spin, and in an instant she knew a fear so huge she wanted to run away screaming.

The voice in her head was loud and urgent. Jamie had learned to listen to the voices in her head, but fighting off the sensation, she turned the knob and entered the room. She was struck immediately by the closeness of the air. She was halfway to the window to open it when she stopped, and the shiver became a shudder. She felt a coldness sweep in and blow over her skin like a breath, then pass through her hair like fingers. A feeling of grief poured into her. This was a sad room. She pushed the doors open and left the room quickly, closing the door behind her. Leaning against it, she felt her heart rate steady. I need a break. She had been working non-stop, after all. Time to go play. As she called for the dog and stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs, she didn’t feel chilled, felt no rush of cold air, no sudden shift in the silence; and standing there, she couldn’t explain how she knew she wasn’t alone.

***

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Like Casper?"

Jamie smiled. "Not quite, but something like that. Like feeling that souls sometimes don’t quite leave. Maybe we are not alone here."

Darcy gave her a look. "No. When you’re dead, you’re dead. That’s it. Final. I don’t believe that after I die I’m going to come back as a flea, you know?"

Jamie stared into space. "I guess I don’t either."

Sensing something behind the words, Darcy studied her. "James, what’s going on?"

Jamie shrugged. "Nothing. It’s just that I keep feeling…" She smiled. "Never mind. I’m not sleeping too well lately; I’m imagining things."

"Things like what?"

"Nothing. Listen, do you think if I choose yellow for the sun room it’s going to be too bright?" She was changing the subject, but she felt too foolish to purse the topic of the supernatural.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jamie woke with a jolt and in the dark felt the hard wood of the floor under her, felt the damp coldness of a closed in room. What the hell? Groggy, she stretched out a hand and hit a wall. Her heart slammed in her chest. Slowly she got to her feet, feeling along, looking for the door. She realized that she was on the third floor. How did I get here? There were cobwebs in her hair; her hands and her feet were dirty. She went to the washroom to gulp down water, then locked herself in the bedroom. She was sleepwalking again. She hadn’t done that since her childhood. "I’m okay, dammit. And I’m going back to bed." But the face in the mirror staring back at her looked scared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

"If I hear one more Carpenters’ song, I’ll…"

"You’ll what?" Jamie’s eyebrows lifted, a challenge in her tone.

At the tone, Darcy’s eyes narrowed. "Play one and you’ll see."

Earlier in the day, Darcy had stopped in to offer her help in painting the living room. For the better part of the morning, they had split the room in two and wasted no time in getting the job down. Drop sheets protected the hardwood floor from the splatter, and they quietly went about their work, occasionally stopping to chase the dog out of the room. Monster, it seemed, had discovered a talent for stepping into whatever fresh paint splatter could be found. His blue paw prints were everywhere. It didn’t seem to worry Jamie, but it was starting to irritate Darcy. To top it off, for the better part of the morning, the music had been a journey through the 1970’s. Darcy didn’t have any particular fondness for that period and was now pretty much at the end of her patience.

Jamie stood up in one graceful motion. It was like watching a dancer move. Darcy flashed on that thought, then focused on what Jamie was doing. "Don’t do it, Jamie," she warned.

"Don’t do what?" Jamie hit the replay on the stereo remote and the husky voice of Karen Carpenter floated through the house. "Do this?" She waved the remote control and had only a split second to react as Darcy threw her paintbrush aside and charged her with a snarl. Jamie danced away from her with a laugh, and the chase was on. Giggles escaped from Jamie as Darcy chased her around the living room, and Monster joined in, thinking it a new game. The air was punctuated with squeals, muffled laughter and wild barking. Jamie tried to catch her breath, half holding a chair in front of her as protection as another giggle surfaced. Was that a giggle? she thought, mortified.

Darcy abandoned the chase, her smile wide as her eyes quickly surveyed the area. She relaxed her stance and saw Jamie do the same. That was a mistake. Darcy lunged, but her aim was off slightly and as her hand caught Jamie’s shirt, she took a quick step back, nudging the chair that was beside her. In a wild heap, they fell to the floor, toppling the chair along with them. Unfortunately, the paint tray that had been setting on the chair followed right along with them, splattering them with paint.

"Fuck!"

"Oh my God!" Jamie tried to speak, tried to apologize, but her laughter made the words unclear. "Darcy…I…" Her hand reached up to wipe Darcy’s face, forgetting for a moment that the appendage was covered in blue paint, as well. "Oops…" She choked on her laughter as her fingers left a wider streak of blue on Darcy’s forehead.

Darcy lay atop her, trying to catch her breath as paint dripped from her chin and onto Jamie. She felt her body clench and react to the feel of Jamie’s body sprawled out underneath hers, and couldn’t figure out how to make herself move.

"Darcy…" Jamie’s grin faded slowly. Her pulse began to kick as the laughter died out of Darcy’s eyes. Worried that her friend was upset, she tried to apologize. "I’m so…"

"Shut up a minute," Darcy snarled. Then her mind went blank as she looked at Jamie. Well, hell. Her mouth closed on Jamie’s with a force that was stunning.

The heat slammed into Jamie, then her mouth parted as Darcy’s urgency stirred a gaping need deep within. As their mouths moved with piercing urgency, a quiet moan ripped from Jamie’s throat.

The soft sound penetrated the haze and Darcy froze. Heart thudding, she stared down at Jamie, shocked. "Oh God, Jamie…I…I’m sorry."

"Don’t be..."

"I’m sorry." Darcy jumped up and for the first time in her life, ran, leaving a stunned and aroused Jamie behind. As she sat up, Jamie felt her heart rate slowly return to normal. What the hell was that?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"She kissed me."

"Who did?"

"I mean, I kissed her."

"Who?"

"Jamie."

"So?" Darcy turned to glare at Lauren who stared back, puzzled. Their group of friends kissed each other all the time.

"So? So?" Darcy started to pace again. "So it’s Jamie."

Still confused, Lauren looked at her; then something clicked. "Darcy, what do you mean you kissed her? What kind of kiss was it?"

"Fuck, you want details?"

Lauren smiled. "Sure, if you have them." Her smile widened at the look on Darcy’s face. "What I meant was, was it a friendly kiss on the cheek or something more?"

"More," Darcy mumbled. "The blood drained out of my head."

Lauren’s eyes narrowed in speculation. "I see..."

"Do you? Because I sure as hell don’t. Jesus, it’s Jamie."

"So you keep saying."

Darcy started to pace. "How can I suddenly turn around after all of these years and think ‘wow’?"

How indeed? Lauren thought. "What does Jamie say about it?"

"She doesn’t."

A blond brow went up at that. "You haven’t talk to her about it?"

Darcy’s shoulders hunched. "No."

"Why not? What happened after you kissed?"

"I ran away," Darcy mumbled.

Lauren looked at her, swallowing a laugh. "You what?"

"I-said-I-ran-away." Darcy snarled out each word. She pushed a hand through her hair. "I panicked, and I haven’t talk to her since." She glanced at Lauren who was staring at her, amused. "I know, I know. I just didn’t know how to handle it."

"Well, running away is probably not the ideal way," Lauren commented dryly.

There was a pause. "I should talk to her?" It was a question.

Lauren smiled at her. "Yep. And Darcy, if you kiss her again and the blood drains out of your head, this time jump her bones."

"Jump her bones? Christ, that’s your advice?"

Lauren had to smile at the look on Darcy’s face. "Well…yeah." A thought suddenly occurred to Lauren. "Darcy, did she kiss you back?"

***

Darcy finally worked up the nerve a day later. On the drive over, she felt the dampness on her palms, the quickening of her pulse, and had to pull over to the side of the road and stop once to calm herself. Get a grip, it’s just Jamie. We will probably laugh about it. When she got to Jamie’s house, she sat in her car for another ten minutes. What if she slams the door in my face? Out of options, she finally strode to the door and knocked once. Getting no answer, she tried the door, found it unlocked, and stepped in. She heard the blast of music coming from the back of the house, punctuated by the unmistakable sounds of hammering. She wiped her hands on her jeans and made her way to the kitchen. She froze in the doorway as the blood drained out of her head again, the sight of Jamie almost bringing her to her knees. She was dressed in a black sports bra and faded, ripped jeans that hung low over lean hips. And each time she swung the mallet, the muscles in her back and shoulders bunched and flexed. Darcy was unnerved to feel the weakness in her knees. Good God, how did I miss seeing that all these years?

Jamie turned and time stopped. Something flared in Jamie’s eyes, but was quickly banked.

"Hey," Darcy tried. "I hope you are not going to use that on me."

Jamie studied her for a moment, trembling inside as she remembered their kiss. "I’m thinking about it."

Darcy tried not to look at Jamie, fearing that if she did she might start drooling or become incoherent. Instead, she looked around the kitchen. Jamie had ripped out the center island, the counters and cabinets, and was now halfway into tearing down the wall that had separated the kitchen from the dining room. "I see you are opening things up."

Jamie dropped the hammer and bent down to grab a bottle of water from the floor, a fine sheen of perspiration glistening on her skin. Darcy turned and caught Jamie drinking thirstily, swallowed and forced herself to look away. What the hell is wrong with me? I haven’t had sex in way too long. That must be it. She felt the twitching pulsations gathering between her legs and unsettled by her body’s reaction, she pushed a frustrated hand into the front pockets of her jeans. It was unnerving to know that her fingers were not quite steady.

"I’m sorry about the other day," she offered.

That stopped Jamie. "You are?"

"I mean… the kiss. It just happened. It didn’t mean anything…"

"It didn’t?" Jamie repeated, feeling the quick, sharp stab of hurt. That kiss had kept her awake for more than one night. She studied Darcy’s face for a moment, seeing the misery on it. Forcing herself to play it cool, she shrugged. "Okay."

Darcy frowned at Jamie’s easy acceptance of her apology. Wasn’t this what I wanted?

"Want to see what I’ve done?" Jamie asked.

"Sure."

Jamie turned to go, then the room spun. She heard a scream, saw Darcy’s face, the alarm that leapt over it. She thought she saw her mouth move, then Jamie’s vision grayed, white spots dancing through the mist.

"Jamie, Jamie." Someone was stroking her head, her face. Jamie opened her eyes to a blur, so simply closed them again.

"No you don’t." Darcy tapped her cheeks with fingers that trembled slightly. Jamie had gone down like a stone, right after her face had drained of color and her eyes had rolled back, white. "Open your eyes now."

"What the hell happened?"

"You fainted."

"What?"

"Passed out. Dropped like a sack to the floor. You do that a lot?"

"Nope. Not even when I drink myself into oblivion, which I haven’t done since college."

"Can you sit up?"

"Yeah." She sat up, felt a wave of nausea pass, and leaned into Darcy’s arms. "I’m okay. I’ll be okay." She said it more to calm her jangling nerves. She saw the concern darkening Darcy’s eyes and smiled at her. The concern filled Jamie with warmth, liquid and soft. "I’m really okay."

"Did you eat today?"

"Yeah. I had cereal. I think..."

"Jesus. I’m going to fix you something. Come on. Can you stand up?" She helped Jamie stagger to her feet. Darcy’s arm wrapped around her waist, taking most of her weight. "Let’s get you to bed."

"I bet you say that to all your girls."

Too shaken up to banter back, Darcy ignored the joke. Her mind replayed the moment when Jamie had dropped in front of her. The white flash of fear dried her throat. Maybe she should call Madison. Being a doctor she could check her out without appearing to. They went up the stairs and she helped Jamie into bed, shoving the dog to get at the covers. "I’ll fix you something to eat. Maybe you should try and get some sleep. Have you been sleeping lately?"

Jamie looked sheepish. "No. I’ve had a few nightmares."

Darcy looked angry. "Why didn’t you call?"

"I thought you were avoiding me." Suddenly she was overwhelmed with fatigue and her eyelids drooped.

Darcy shook her head, silently cursing her own stubbornness. "Even if I was pissed with you, which I wasn’t, I would drop everything if you needed me. You should know that by now."

"I thought you were disappointed in me."

That stopped Darcy, she felt her mind scramble for an answer as their eyes met. Her hand reached out to touch Jamie. It was brief, a subtle press of her fingertips against her shoulder. "Disappointed? No, never that."

Jamie closed her eyes, and her mouth curved. "Good to know."

***

"She fainted."

"Whatever happened to people saying ‘Hello, how are you?’" Madison asked, tongue in cheek.

Darcy sighed heavily into the phone. "Hi, how are you, she fainted."

"Who did?"

"Jamie. One minute she’s talking to me, the next her eyes are rolling back into her head." It had taken years off her life, she was sure.

"How is she now?"

"Okay, I think. I put her to bed. I don’t think she’s been sleeping or eating or…

"Darcy?" Madison interrupted.

"What?"

"I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll drop by to check on her, though."

Darcy had never felt so rattled. "All right." After hanging up, she lifted her eyes to the ceiling and debated whether or not to go up. Afraid, she stayed put. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what she was afraid of.

***

Madison and Lauren showed up a couple of hours later. While Madison went upstairs to check on Jamie, Lauren stayed downstairs with Darcy.

"She scared me," Darcy told her quietly. "I’ve never been scared like that before."

"I’m sure she’s fine, Darcy."

"She dropped to the floor just like that. Jesus." She started to pace as Lauren watched her thoughtfully.

"Did you guys get a chance to talk?"

"Yeah. I told her I was sorry and that the kiss didn’t mean anything. She said okay."

"I see." Lauren tilted her head. "You never did answer me. Did she kiss you back?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just curious."

"Yeah. She kissed me back," Darcy replied reluctantly.

Lauren’s bottom teeth worried her lower lip while she thought. There definitely was something there. Why hadn’t any of them noticed it before? Lauren finally reached over and took Darcy by the arm. "Stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy." Darcy stopped. "Darcy? I’m going to give you just one piece of advice. Don’t run away from this."

Darcy frowned down at her. "From what?"

"This thing with Jamie. Don’t run away from it."

Darcy felt a flicker of panic dance down her spine. "What thing? There’s nothing there."

"If you say so." They stared at each other. "But, Stretch, just try and ignore most of your typical impulses. You might surprise yourself."

"I think I woke up in a parallel universe, because nothing is making sense." Darcy grumbled.

"I know. Isn’t it grand?" Lauren smiled at her. "Not to change the subject, but how was it?"

"How was what?"

"Kissing Jamie."

"Who kissed Jamie?" Madison asked as she made her way back to the living room.

"Darcy did."

Madison stared at Darcy. "You kissed Jamie? When? Is that why she fainted?"

Darcy could feel the blush creep up from her neck and could not do anything to stop it. "No, that’s not why she fainted." She glared at Lauren, who smiled innocently at her. "I’m dreaming; I must be. I’m going to wake up now," Darcy muttered to herself.

Madison grinned at her, wiggling her eyebrows. "So, Stretch, was it any good? Don’t skip any of the details, however small. Was there any tongue action?"

Darcy felt her face flame further. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. She glared at her friends, who continued to grin back at her. With a huff, she shook her head in frustration. "That does it. I disown both of you. You are no longer my friends. I’m leaving now." She turned to stalk out.

Madison put her tongue firmly in her cheek and winked at her girlfriend. "Hey, Stretch, don’t you want to know how she is?"

Darcy stopped in the doorway. "How is she?" she threw back over her shoulder.

"I think she will be fine. Too much work, too little food or sleep would be my guess. But someone should probably stay with her tonight, just in case."

That stopped Darcy and concern flashed in her eyes as she turned to look at her friend.

"But I can stay with her," Madison added with a quick grin at Lauren.

Darcy’s hands clenched beside her. She was being tested, she knew. "No, I’ll stay."

"If she wakes, get her to eat something. I wouldn’t kiss her right away, though."

"Fuck off."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Darcy couldn’t be sure what woke her. She lay in the darkness, her mind slowly transitioning into wakefulness. Then she heard the sound again. It sounded like a door slamming, and she sat up as it registered that it was the front door. She grabbed at the clothes she’d thrown on the chair and pulled on her shirt as she made her way to the landing. At the foot of the staircase, light from the outside spilled into the entryway. The door was open, and as she made her way down, she caught a glimpse of Jamie walking down the drive, and hurried after her. "Jamie!" she called. Jamie turned and looked at her. Darcy’s heart lurched as Jamie stared at her, eyes blank.

"Jamie?" she whispered as she got closer.

Jamie turned away and started walking. "Daddy, I’m going to the pond."

"What pond?" Darcy asked, puzzled. "Jamie, wake up. You’re sleepwalking."

Jamie simply continued to walk away. Darcy moved quickly now, afraid. She stopped Jamie, her hand gentle on her arm. What had she heard about not interfering with sleepwalkers? She tried desperately to think of a way to wake Jamie up. Frantic, afraid, going with instinct, Darcy slipped close to her and gently closed her mouth on Jamie’s. She felt Jamie respond, soft and dreamlike, but then knew the moment Jamie woke up as she felt Jamie’s body stiffen against hers and the texture of the kiss change, become deeper. Darcy forced herself to pull away, though her body cried out for more.

"Hey."

"Darcy?" Jamie looked around and shuddered. She was sleepwalking again. "How did you..." Her voice trailed off when she met the intent look in Darcy’s eyes.

"The front door woke me up. Have you been doing this a lot?"

Jamie rubbed her face with a trembling hand. "I haven’t done this since I was kid. It started again after I moved into this house."

"You were talking in your sleep, too."

"I was?"

"Yeah, you called me ‘dad’."

Jamie started to shake. "I’m sorry. I must be having those nightmares again. I don’t remember." She suddenly looked so lost that Darcy’s heart clenched. Darcy’s hands were gentle on her shoulders. "It’s okay. Let’s get you inside." She wrapped a hand around Jamie and led her back in.

Inside the house, Darcy followed Jamie upstairs. She watched her slip back into bed. Unsure about what to do, she hesitated.

Jamie snuggled under the covers, then looked at her in the doorway. "I’m fine. I don’t usually do it twice in one night." There was uncertainty in her tone.

Darcy stared at her. To hell with it. She crossed back into the room and grabbed the comforter cover. "Move over."

Jamie looked at her in surprise, but then simply shifted, making room. Darcy pulled the covers over herself and briefly debated whether or not to take off her shirt. She never slept with clothes on but, unexpectedly nervous, she decided against it and settled beside Jamie. "You don’t snore too, do you?" she asked.

Jamie chuckled. "I don’t think so, but I do kick occasionally."

Darcy raised her eyes to the ceiling. Figures. She turned on her side, her back to Jamie, and tried to relax. "Good night, James."

Jamie stared at the broad back and the auburn hair spilling over the pillow and instinctively knew she would sleep all night. She moved closer and fitted herself against the long form. Darcy stiffened at the first feel of her body, but forced herself to relax. "Good night, Darcy." Pressed tightly against Darcy’s back, she was soon asleep. It took some time for Darcy to follow suit but finally, with Jamie’s scent wrapped around her, she succumbed to her exhaustion.

The noise pulled at her, persistent, close by. Darcy stubbornly tried to hold on to sleep but the noise seemed louder now. She struggled awake and lay confused, trying to remember where she was. Jamie. I’m in Jamie’s bed. And Jamie was snoring beside her. I’ve heard of snoring, but this is ridiculous, Darcy thought as the buzzsaw started up again. She flipped to her back and ventured a look beside her. Nestled against the pillow, facing her, was Monster. Sound asleep. There was the guilty party. When he started snoring again, Darcy raised her eyes to the ceiling. For God’s sake, how the hell does she sleep through that racket? She shoved at him but could not budge him. She tried a second time, and he opened one eye and bared his teeth in a very efficient doggie snarl.

"Stop moving," a grumpy voice called out from the other side of the canine.

"I’m trying to move this tank." She shoved at him again. "How the hell do you sleep with his snoring?"

Jamie chuckled. "I’m usually not sleeping." She sat up and pushed a hand through her tousled blond hair, blinking at Darcy in the darkness. She had to smile at Darcy’s fierce frown. Damn she is cute when she is all sleepy and grumpy. "Monster, off."

He waited a beat but when it looked like she meant it, he stood up very slowly and with a forlorn look at her jumped off the bed. Jamie smiled after him affectionately.

"There you go. The tank is gone."

Darcy watched as the dog slouched out of the room. Satisfied, she turned and caught Jamie’s intent look.

"What?"

Jamie blinked slowly. For a moment, she had had a flash of what her future could look like. And with that flash, something very close to yearning settled in her stomach and tightened her chest. She closed her eyes. "Nothing. Go back to sleep."

Darcy lay back down. "Easy for you to say. That dog hates me."

A hand reached out and pulled her close. A blond head settled into the curve of her neck, and an arm wrapped itself against her middle. "I’ll protect you. Now be quiet; I still have some sleep left in me."

Darcy’s body tensed at the feel of Jamie’s body pressing close. Her scent drifted over her and she closed her eyes, assailed by images and needs that left her anxious, unsettled. She felt the twinge of arousal pull at her, the heat flow through her. She recognized the feelings for what they were. It was just biology after all, a chemical reaction to being close to a partially nude woman. Anyone else triggering those emotions would have had her seeking relief. Instead she trembled and tried to clear her mind of the memories of what Jamie’s body looked like.

"Relax." The whisper caressed her neck and sent shivers dancing down her skin.

"James…" Darcy felt her heart pound under her skin and would have sworn that Jamie should be able to feel it too.

"Darcy, I want to hold you. Let me."

Darcy’s hand drifted down Jamie’s back and she pulled her closer, one leg shifting away slightly as she forced herself to relax at the quiet words. This is Jamie. I shouldn’t be feeling this. It was the last thought she had as sleep overtook her once more.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Without talking about it, without acknowledging it in any way, something had shifted between them, and Darcy began to spend more time over at Jamie’s, helping with the renovations. The rest of the walls downstairs were stripped, repaired and prepped for paint. In the evenings, they pored over paint chips and argued about each one. The old pine flooring upstairs was also exposed and protected now with drop cloths. They spent countless hours in the garden, digging and cutting and planning. Darcy would leave the café early and drive to Jamie’s, usually with some leftovers from the kitchen. They would sit on the floor and share a meal while planning the changes to the house.

At odd times, Jamie would feel Darcy studying her, feel the heat of her stare. And when that happened, Jamie would feel her body respond to the look, and the surprising ache for Darcy increased. More than once she fought down the urge to crush her mouth against Darcy’s, fought against the itch in her fingers to touch her. This was Darcy. They were friends, for crying out loud. How could she be attracted to her after all of these years? When the throbbing in her body became unbearable as she lay in bed at night, she would let her hand drift down to try and ease the ache. And as she touched herself, she imagined it was Darcy who was touching her. And the instant Darcy’s face appeared behind her eyelids, she would come. She had given up on worrying about the fact that she was lusting after one of her closest friends. She couldn’t begin to understand when or why their relationship had changed. Had it been when Darcy kissed her? Had the kiss been the flashpoint in starting to think about Darcy in a different way? Whatever the start of it, the change had been subtle at first, but somehow over the last few months what she felt for Darcy had altered. Or maybe she had always felt this way. Part of her worried that, as with Lauren, she would go through her life pining for another of her friends. It was not a particularly pleasant thought to have.

***

As she had over the last few weeks, Darcy showed up with a tin foil packet of leftover chicken. She let herself in and followed the sound of music. She always knew where Jamie was by the music. It was always blaring somewhere. This time it came from the second floor, and after putting the containers on the kitchen counter, she followed it up the stairs. She peeked into the second room from the left and felt her breath leave her with a rush. Jamie was standing on a ladder, arms extended above her as she painted the ceiling. Dressed in cutoff shorts and little else, she was humming to an old tune from the seventies. Monster, who was happily chewing on a corner of the drop cloth, lifted his head, saw Darcy, and sprang into action. The sudden joyful barking had Jamie dropping the brush in surprise as she turned toward the doorway. Darcy bent down to rub Monster’s ears, to stop him from jumping on her with his paint covered paws, when she lifted her eyes and her gaze locked on Jamie.

The hunger in her eyes, for a moment unchecked, slammed into Jamie and the blonde pressed her hand against her suddenly churning stomach. This can’t go on much longer. I will lose it. She made her way down the ladder and smiled at the auburn beauty.

"Hi."

"I brought food. It’s downstairs," Darcy said, unable to look away.

Jamie studied her. I can’t take this anymore. "Great."

Something in her eyes made Darcy nervous, had her nerves jumping. "I…I should go heat it up." Darcy started to back out of the room.

"Darcy?"

"What?" The tone was wary.

Acting impulsively, Jamie crossed to her and, reaching up, closed her mouth on Darcy’s. If Jamie’s passion had been simmering she’d concealed it well. It seemed to explode in one blinding white flash of heat that came from nowhere.

Shaken, Darcy drew back, trying to judge her own reaction, fighting to keep her own needs in perspective.

Jamie stared up at her, her breath coming in jerks. Her mind was reeling and she shook her head as if to clear it. Just as she began to draw her first coherent thought Darcy swore and crushed her mouth to Jamie’s again. A thousand warnings jangled in Darcy’s brain and were ignored. For one reckless moment she gave herself over to the heat, to the need, to the yearning. She changed the angle of the kiss, deepened it.

"That’s something to think about, all right," Jamie commented quietly as they pulled away slowly. "Let’s go eat." She was pleased that her legs were still supporting her as she walked out of the room.

Darcy stared after the departing back and knew that she was in trouble - Jamie was killing her by inches. Darcy knew what it was to want a woman, to have one stir blood and spin images in the mind. It could be a kind of hunger that slowly churned in the stomach, gnawing there until it was finally satisfied. But now she carried Jamie’s taste inside. And knew, watching her go, that she wouldn’t rid herself of it. That alone was infuriating, not to mention scary.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The rain continued all morning, soft, slow, steady. It brought a chill, and a gloom that spread over the day. Clouds hung low, turning everything to different shades of gray. Darcy sat on the covered porch watching Jamie, bundled in a hooded windbreaker, return from taking Monster for his morning run. The rain had darkened her hair and the dark blue sweats she wore stuck to her like a second skin. As she jogged lightly up to the porch, dripping wet, cheeks pink from her run, Darcy thought she couldn’t possibly look more seductive. It annoyed her. Just remembering her response to Jamie’s kiss infuriated her. It felt too much like weakness. She had left Jamie’s the night before, unsettled, stomach in knots, trying to pretend she did not want to feel Jamie’s mouth on hers again. To top off her mad, Jamie had been nonchalant the rest of the evening as if she wasn’t bothered by their kiss at all. As Jamie climbed up the steps, Darcy sat scowling at her.

"Hi." Jamie smiled as she pushed back the hood from her face. She was still holding on to Monster’s leash, trying to stop him from jumping on Darcy. If she was surprised to see Darcy out and about so early in the morning, it didn’t show. Monster shook himself free and was inches away from welcoming Darcy by putting his wet muddy paws on her when Darcy growled at him. He sat down at her feet with a whine, his whole back end shaking uncertainly.

Jamie raised an amused eyebrow. "Very effective. Do you practice that?" Darcy just frowned at her. Jamie shrugged, unperturbed, too accustomed to Darcy’s moods to take offense. She took her keys and unlocked the front door, then stepped inside. Monster followed her in, making a beeline for the kitchen where he knew breakfast would be waiting.

Darcy remained on the porch, undecided. For the life of her she couldn’t remember why she had come over. She tried to dissect the reasons for her confusion, her indecision. Was it the kiss? She wouldn’t call the kiss they’d shared uncomplicated. There had been layers to it, and she for one was in no mood to peel away at them.

Raindrops hissed on the roof and at the windows and she felt the dampness against her skin. Jamie’s sudden reappearance in the doorway had her staring, without the ability to marshal a thought in her head. All she could do was stand there on the covered porch looking cold and miserable. Jamie’s mouth curved at the sudden fierce look in Darcy’s eyes.

"Are you going to come in?"

Darcy frowned. It seemed almost contradictory that such a calm-eyed, smooth-voiced woman could explode with passion. Yet she had. Except now she acted as if nothing had happened. Did that mean that the kiss had meant nothing to her - so that Jamie could calmly ask her in without a worry? Maybe it was best if she avoided Jamie, kept some distance. For the time being. She made as if to leave and Jamie frowned at her.

"Stretch? Where are you going?"

Darcy stopped at the top step. She glanced at her, then away. "Home, I guess."

"I just put some coffee on, why don’t you stay and warm up first."

Darcy hesitated and Jamie stepped onto the porch, her eyes fixed questioningly on her. Blushing under the cool gray stare, Darcy suddenly felt foolish. Hell, if Jamie can handle it so can I. She gave up.

"Okay."

When Darcy turned to go inside, Jamie stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Things have changed between us."

"Yes. Yes, they have."

"Right or wrong, we’ll finish it," she added quietly.

"No." Darcy was far from calm. "If it’s right, we’ll finish it. I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you, but right now I’m not ready to deal with this, whatever this is."

Jamie gave her a quick, unsmiling look before she turned away to go inside.

"Apparently it is something we both have to get used to."

part 8

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