Authors: April Worth
Tags: #romance, #love, #lesbian, #rural, #australian, #modern contemporary
“I think you’d
look OK?” She could imagine Jean in a tailored pantsuit, well cut
to fit her compact form, and dark like her eyes.
“Thanks.”
She continued
on. “Anyway, we got married by the ocean, near where we lived. She
loved the water. My father in his wisdom decided to try to reassure
the bride by plying her with liquor.”
Blonde brows
rose.
“I have wedding
photos with Natasha looking greener than the seaweed.”
Joanne scoffed,
looking out of the slightly filmy window. “My wedding photos turned
out OK. I think there are more photos of Owen than there are of me.
He could be such a pretty boy.”
Jean thought to
herself. She imagined Jo would have looked stunning.
The mane of
pale hair bunched and regal, the long flowing white dress over her
tapered figure
. “I’d imagine you looked gorgeous?”
“Thank you, I
was worried about my figure going to hell once I had Annabelle.
Thank God for policing and gym.”
Jean swept over
her with her eyes. “You’d never tell.”
They talked for
hours, an easy rapport back and forth. Family, friends, politics
and religion. A few differences but a lot of similarities. Jo only
realised the time when she saw the staff stacking chairs. “Shit
Jean, it's one in the morning.” A quick glance at her silver
watch.
Weary eyes
smiled at her. “Doesn’t feel like it, guess I’ll need a coffee to
go?”
They stood
together, Jo laid her hand over Jean’s. “You have an hour’s drive
ahead of you to get home?”
A nod. “I’ll
manage.”
Joanne looked
her up and down with a tilt of her head. “You look tired.”
The look was
returned with amused brown eyes. “You get that at one a.m.
Joanne?”
The policewoman
crossed her arms. “I don’t like it.”
The shorter
woman rubbed her bicep reassuringly. “Jo. It’s OK, really.” Her
yawn didn’t help her case.
The blonde
nudged an imaginary rock with her boot. She thought for a moment.
“You can come home with me?”
Both dark brows
hiked up. “Excuse me?”
“I have a guest
bedroom. I’ll take the squad car back to the station. You can
follow me. I’ll leave my car there. Then I’ll drive your car back
to my house, you can drop me at the station in the morning.” An
unperturbed look. She had it worked out.
“Jo..”
“Jean. Cop,
remember?”
“Jo..”
“Jean, driver
fatigue is responsible for almost thirty percent of all vehicular
accidents.”
They stared at
each other for a while. A subtle arch of a blonde brow as Jo
crossed her arms. She decided on a simpler approach. “I have
handcuffs. I can cuff you to the car if I wanted to.”
The gardener
smiled. “This is a threat yeah?”
A roll of grey
eyes. “Just..get in the car. Follow me.” They paid for dinner, and
walked out to the parking lot.
***
She followed Jo
wearily back to the station, parking in the visitor’s bays outside
while Jo ducked inside to leave the squad car. Her own white sedan
parked where she left it. Around the back behind the high locked
gate. She had gone inside, wanting to secure her weapons in the
lockup, preferring not to take them home.
Eventually she
re-emerged and knocked on the driver’s side window. “Out.”
Jean wound down
her window with a smart look. “Yes Officer, what seems to be the
problem?”
Joanne opened
her door and reached over to unclip her belt. “Out. I’m
driving.”
A groan and the
older woman slipped out, allowing Jo into the driver’s seat. The
blonde put the seat back to accommodate her longer legs. Feeling
around and getting her bearings. Jean got into the passenger
side.
“It’s manual.
That’s a gear stick.”
“Be quiet, I
know what I’m doing. The squad car is manual, this thing pre-dates
the invention of the wheel..” A hand moved the mirrors to suit her
height, a quick look over her shoulder as she clipped in her
belt.
“So
authoritative Jo? I like a woman in uniform.”
The blonde
reached over placing a hand on Jean’s thigh. It got her immediate
attention, despite her passenger’s tiredness. She leant in to
whisper, her slightly husky voice hot in Jean's ear. “If you ever
want me to ‘frisk’ you, Jean Patterson..you’ll do as I say. Now
shush.”
“Yes
ma’am.”
Chapter
20
Joanne’s street
was quiet at night. Mostly families, their kids tucked up in bed,
or older couples. Kerry’s lights were out too, the green of her new
garden muted under the streetlights.
A look of dread
came over Jo’s face as they turned the corner, coming to a slow
halt on the other side of the road. The old ute rumbling evenly as
it idled. Her house was dark too, but a familiar car was parked in
the drive. An SUV with silver paintwork.
“Shit.”
Jean sighed.
“Let me guess?”
Jo nodded,
observing the dark windows of the house, the car sitting dormant
outside.
“He has keys
right?”
Jo slumped back
in her seat, resting her hands on the wheel. “Yes. Damn it, he has
terrible timing.”
Jean watched
her friend. It was obvious she was tired, wanting likely nothing
more than to sink into her bed and sleep. A confrontation and
domestic dispute on the lawn was the last thing she needed. Jean
wasn’t particularly fond of the man either. Even if she didn’t have
feelings for Jo, Owen was still a bully, and she didn’t like
bullies.
“We could go to
a hotel?” She offered.
Jo turned to
look at her. “I don’t even have a change of clothes, and I want my
bed. He’s probably sleeping in it right now.” Her teeth gritted,
she went to open the door, a hand on her arm stopped her.
“Jo?”
“What?”
“There must be
a hotel around here that could check us in? I can pay, it’s all
right.”
“But..?”
“Jo, you’ve had
a long day. It’s just a different bed. Your uniform should be OK
for another day right? It’s not worth fighting with him at one in
the morning. Besides, we can come by early tomorrow? He might even
be out, or gone? You could change, then I’ll drop you off. If you
go in there now..?”
The blonde
policewoman growled, annoyed, staring at the dark bedroom window.
She had been looking forward to getting some sleep, and Jean had a
long emotional day too, she was putting her out. She’d insisted
that her friend shouldn’t drive home.
Joanne looked
toward the house, sighing with resignation. “There’s a hotel about
ten minutes from here that might check us in.” She looked at her
watch. “Sound OK?”
Jean nodded,
rubbing her friend’s shoulder, yawning softly under her hand.
They drove
quietly, both thinking. Eventually they reached a hotel, close to
the city and about eight storeys of modern glass and concrete
design. Jo slid out of the driver’s side door. The creaky clank as
the door closed. Jean was rummaging in the back seat. She kept a
spare t-shirt there. In case she got messy before a meeting. At
least it was clean to sleep in. A soft peep as the old car locked.
They walked toward reception, pleased to find it still staffed by
one weary looking worker.
He stood up
straighter seeing Jo’s uniform. Jean realised that sometimes it
must have its advantages.
His voice was
polite, he stifled a yawn with his hand. “I’m sorry. What can I do
for you Officer?”
Grey eyes
watched him as he checked the monitor behind the counter. “We’d
like a double room if you have one available? I realise it’s
late.”
The short man
with a soft Arabic accent looked them over. Jo crossed her arms
over her chest.
He looked at
her earnestly, then to Jean, who was searching through her wallet.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but as you understand this is our busiest time of
year. We have two rooms available without a prior booking. The
penthouse and the honeymoon suite.”
A blonde brow
arched, she looked at Jean who shrugged.
“I see.
Prices?”
He pulled out a
brochure and his booking forms. The penthouse was exorbitantly
expensive during peak season, and gave them the slim advantage of
breakfast that they weren’t likely to eat, and a sofa in addition
to the bed.
Joanne sighed,
clearly uncomfortable. “And the..honeymoon suite?”
This made the
staffer look at them curiously. Jo sighed and rolled her eyes,
hyper aware of his curiosity. He sensed her impatience. The room
was more reasonably priced, but of course, was intended for a
couple.
Jean yawned,
pulled out a wad of notes, counting through them. “We’ll take
it.”
Jo turned to
look at her with a frown on her angular face.
Dark eyes
looked back. “Jo, relax. It’s not perfect, but we both need sleep.
If you like I’ll sleep on the floor?”
The
receptionist attempted to be helpful, still not quite sure what had
stumbled in at so late an hour. “It has a king size bed?”
The policewoman
shook her head, pulling out her purse and handing over her credit
card. She had it in case of emergency, for times like this when she
needed money fast.
“I’ll get it
Jo..”
Joanne shook
her head. “It’s fine. I’m the one who dragged you here.” Jean
frowned as the wallet went back into her pants. She resolved to
slip the money into Jo’s purse when she wasn’t looking.
They filled out
the paperwork and were handed the card keys. A point of a cardigan
covered arm and they were directed to the fifth floor. Walking
behind her, Jean could sense the scowl on Jo’s face.
Chapter
21
A soft peep as
the card slid through the slot, a click as the door opened. Jo was
the first through, looking around. For a honeymoon suite at least
it wasn’t tacky. A large crisply made bed with vases of roses and
small lamps either side. A breakfast nook and a flat screen. Black
and white themed throughout, spotted with the red of the flowers,
and a view of the city and hills outside.
Jo set Jean’s
keys down on the counter top with a soft clink. The older woman
nodded, noting where they were.
A soft sigh
from the policewoman,
no sofa, only a bed, a large one
. It
looked inviting after the long day she’d had. Her eyes flitted over
Jean’s back, who was setting the alarm on her watch.
“Jean, I’m
going to take a shower.”
“OK, I’ll go
after you.”
The balcony
outside had been tempting since she walked in. Jean needed a little
air, the first opportunity alone. The call in the afternoon from
Ellie, dropping everything to rush to the hospital worried out of
her mind. By now it was almost one thirty, her day had been
exhausting, emotionally draining. The traffic outside had
dissipated, the occasional hum as a car passed by. The fifth floor,
the breeze fluttered through her hair. Jean looked up, the settling
clouds over layers of deep blue looked like the ocean. The night
rolling into early morning.
It came over
her without warning. The smell of salty sea air. The talk earlier
with Jo. She found herself sniffling, the sniffles became sobs. A
tanned hand rubbed her eyes. She tried to keep it together, but the
tears came. Sometimes old wounds had a way of reopening with the
right injury, the right memory. There were some things she didn’t
talk about. Jean turned around.
At least Joanne was still in the
shower, she could clean herself up before she came out
. Then it
would be her turn followed by sleep. Well, as much sleep as she
could get lying awkwardly next to Jo.
She turned back
to face the open air. Closing her eyes tightly. A few lingering
tears escaped before they were brushed away.
Jean hadn’t
heard the soft padding across the carpet. The lone figure staring
out at the fading stars got Jo’s attention quickly. Jean was
usually so vibrant, the smart mouth and cheeky grin were missing
today. She missed her usual sparkle. Seeing her now, Jean seemed
small and vulnerable, hunched over herself on the rail.
The blonde’s
annoyance at their predicament was replaced by worry. “Jean? You
OK?” She stood behind the shorter woman.
The gardener
looked over her shoulder briefly, glancing at the policewoman. She
did her best to avert her eyes. The blonde’s sports bra straps were
visible above the towel wrapped around her. She’d sleep in her
undergarments, saving her uniform. Her damp hair drying over her
shoulders and chest.
The brunette
sighed softly to herself. “It’s OK Jo. I’m fine.”
Jo noticed
under her eyes looked darkened and swollen, as though she’d been
crying. It was visible even with Jean’s olive complexion.
She stepped
forward and squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “You don’t look
fine?”
The policewoman
stood motionless when the quiet went on too long. “I’m worried,
what’s wrong?”
The gardener
looked out toward the sky. “You have enough to worry about Jo. I’m
fine. Really.”
She didn’t
believe her. A shake of her head tussled the damp locks. A long arm
slid around Jean’s shoulders, pulling the shorter woman back
against Jo’s chest. Jean gasped softly in surprise at the
affection. A hesitant kiss against the older woman’s temple. Jean’s
shorter frame fit so well in her arms.
Jo’s brows
furrowed. Emotional chats were not her thing, she was often accused
of being abrupt and cold. She just found it hard to connect
sometimes. As a police Officer she had to calm people down all the
time. But this, her friend was upset, in pain. But she didn’t know
why.
“I have ways of
making you talk.” She joked, trying to lighten the mood. Sleep
would have to wait, this felt important.
Jean chuckled
softly. “Is that so?”
Jo placed her
hands over her companion’s biceps, rubbing gently, feeling the
chill of the early morning.