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CHAPTER EIGHT. GINNY SPENT A FITFUL night, tossing in her bed as she remembered Kara's words






GINNY SPENT A FITFUL night, tossing in her bed as she remembered Kara's words. "A woman knows." How would Kara's kiss be? Hot and wet? Or would it be slow and tender?

Ginny groaned and rolled over, hating herself for her thoughts. What was she doing? Why did this woman occupy her mind so? And thoughts of kissing her, no less! She was not attracted to women! She never had been! What she was thinking was insane!

Renee.

No. She hadn't been attracted to Renee. At least, not sexually. And she was positive that she was not sexually attracted to Kara, either.

"You're straight, for God's sake," she murmured. "Act like it."

She got out of bed and went into the kitchen for a drink of cold water and she stood at the sink, watching the moon overhead. Nearly full. Kara's moon.

Was she watching it, too? Or was she sleeping peacefully, unaware of the effect she was having on Ginny?

"She's not blind," Ginny whispered. And how embarrassing would that be? Kara had not so much as said one inappropriate thing. Ginny found Kara's eyes on her sometimes, but that was all.

"Ginny?"

Ginny turned and found Nana watching her. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

"Are you all right?"

She held up her glass. "Thirsty."

"I think I'll have some, too," she said and moved into the room. "Must be this moon. I can't sleep a wink."

Ginny glanced up again at the moon and again thought of Kara. "Yes. I know what you mean," she murmured.

 

Kara paced her room in the darkness, a cigarette glowing hotly in her hands. "What's it like?" The soft words echoed in her brain again and again. She shoved one hand into her hair and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It had been far too tempting. What's it like to kiss a woman? Here, let me show you.

She should really stay away from Ginny. It was becoming uncomfortable to be around her. She laughed out loud, thinking it hadn't been since college that she'd been attracted to a straight woman.



And it had been a very long time since she'd had such a consuming need to kiss someone, she thought.

So she stayed away. And she painted. She was inspired, if nothing else and she started on the sunset the next day, working feverishly all day. When she reached for a beer that evening, she remembered she hadn't thought to buy more and she opened a bottle of wine instead. While her soup heated, she took her wine and cigarette out to the porch and sat, listening to the evening approach.

She sat until darkness surrounded her, her cigarette glowing in the night. Her thoughts drifted to the previous evening and she let them. She saw Ginny sitting on the grass beside her, leaning on her elbows, watching her with those intense green eyes. Had she been merely curious? Kara brought the cigarette to her lips and inhaled deeply. Possibly. Or maybe Ginny felt the electricity between them, too.

No. She was straight, Kara reminded herself. And straight women were curious. But still, there was something happening between them. She could feel it and she suspected that Ginny could feel it, too. Would she even chance seeing Kara again? Had she been afraid that Kara might actually try to kiss her?

She stood up suddenly, putting a halt to her thoughts. She ate inside, barely tasting the soup as her mind remained focused on Ginny.

 

"You never said how it went the other night," Nana said over dinner two nights later.

"With Kara?"

Nana nodded as she cut into her steak.

"It was interesting. I never noticed the colors before," Ginny said. "How they change nearly every second before the sun goes down," she said quietly.

"Is she any good?"

"Very. She captured it exactly," Ginny said, remembering how Kara's fingers had moved over the paper, snatching up color after color without looking. "She has this thing about the moon," Ginny said.



"The moon?"

"Yes. She puts a full moon in all of her paintings," Ginny said.

"Well, I'd like to see one of them, wouldn't you," Nana said.

"Yes. I would."

"Does she have any finished?"

"She didn't say," Ginny said. And she hadn't thought to ask. She had been too busy wondering about kissing a woman to ask. She blushed, putting a halt to her thoughts. No need to go over all that again. She had already spent two sleepless nights.

"Maybe we should have her over to dinner again," Nana said. "You seem to have become friends."

"Yes. I like her," Ginny said carefully. And she did like her, it was true. She only wished she wouldn't constantly think about kissing her.

Nana stood back and watched her. "Are you all right, Ginny?"

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"You've been quiet. Your answers are short." She watched her for awhile longer. "Are you thinking about Phil?" she asked.

Ginny smiled. No, Phil had definitely not been in her thoughts lately. "I'm fine, Nana. Really. And, no, I haven't been thinking about Phil."

"Well, he hasn't called in a week or so, has he?"

"No, he hasn't."

"Maybe he's waiting for you to call," she prompted.

Ginny smiled again. "Nana, don't start," she said gently.

"Well, I just don't understand you. If it's me you're worried about, don't. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And, in case you haven't noticed, I enjoy running the store. Your investment would be safe."

"I know. You're wonderful at it. But Phil and I... we just needed some time apart," she said.

"Honey, I know marriage is a big step. But don't run from it. When you find a good man that loves you, you better grab him. They don't come along every day," she said.

"Nana, when did you know that Grandpa was right for you?" she asked.

"Oh, I'd had my eye on him," she said with a wink. "He just didn't know it." She put her fork down and Ginny could tell she was remembering. "The first time he kissed me, it was magic. Pure magic. I had been waiting for months, but he was a damn fool and thought he would offend me if he tried to kiss me." She laughed. "By the time that he actually got around to it, I was so ready for it, I nearly passed out."

Ginny smiled. Magic. That's how it should be. That's how she wanted it to be. Was it magic when Phil kissed her? Had it been that first time? She tried to remember when they had first kissed. A lunch date, and he had brushed her cheek. Then he had cooked dinner for her and had stolen a kiss as she had poured wine. But magic? No, she wouldn't have called it magic.

"Are you worried about Phil not being the right one, dear?"

"I'm not certain that he is," she admitted.

"Ginny, you'll know. But he's good for you, isn't he?"

"Yes. He's good." And he was. He just didn't stir her soul like she needed him to.



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