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  Torrie nodded, realization burgeoning in the heaviness of her brow, the tightness of her mouth. “That’s why it hurt you when I said I only wanted to sleep with you.”

  “Yes. I didn’t want another Aly again.”

  Torrie moved a little closer, raking her eyes over Grace as she did so, and it was like a warm caress. She knew Torrie still desired her, had probably never stopped, and Grace undeniably wanted Torrie too. Really wanted her, and not, this time, because Torrie was grinding up against her and igniting all her physical desires. She had underestimated Torrie—had given her short shrift because she’d come on like a dog in heat and had expected Grace to give in so easily. But it was an act—a brazen, arrogant, reckless one that was merely a cover for her fears and insecurities. Grace understood that so well now, just as she understood there were so many more layers to Torrie.

  “Please forgive me for treating you like that,” Torrie said with feeling, her gaze poised on Grace’s lips. “I would never want to be the fool that Aly was.”

  “You’re not,” Grace said firmly.

  “What if she changes her mind?”

  Grace chuckled bitterly. “She won’t.” She froze, a little entranced, as Torrie’s mouth moved closer. Propelled by pure instinct, she closed the remaining distance and captured Torrie’s mouth with her own. They kissed tentatively at first, as though afraid they’d both have second thoughts—of the kiss being all wrong. But it was sweet and tender and thrilling, and Grace wanted more, not less. She closed her eyes and let herself melt into Torrie’s embrace and into her warm, welcoming mouth. Torrie’s lips were so soft, so pliant. Patient too, and it was Grace who began to push back harder. She knew that Torrie would be kind and tender with her, but she didn’t want the careful, delicate treatment of a china figurine. She wanted Torrie to touch her with that feverish passion that her eyes and smile had promised so many times—to plunder her body with her mouth and hands the way Grace knew she could, to hold nothing back. Thoughts of what Torrie could do to her made Grace moan a little and press her body harder into Torrie’s. She was ready to give Torrie what she’d wanted all this time. She was ready to make love. Ready to please and be pleased. Ready to give her body up to Torrie, because she was cleansed, finally, of the poison that was Aly.

  She’d almost verbalized her desire when Torrie’s hand slowly crept under her tank top. She squeezed her eyes shut and nearly screamed out in pleasure when Torrie’s quest finally ended in the cupping of her breast. Grace began to nip and suck the soft skin of Torrie’s neck near her collarbone even as her own body began to undulate against Torrie—rocking gently against her, quietly insisting on more.

  The hand on her breast suddenly froze. Torrie’s body had stiffened. Something was wrong.

  “I can’t do this, Grace,” Torrie said shakily.

  Grace reeled, mentally struggling to understand why things were crashing to a halt. “I want this, Torrie. I want you. Please.”

  “No.” Torrie began forcefully pulling away from Grace, avoiding her eyes. “I—I want to be sure.”

  “You mean you’re not?” The moment was like a balloon that had just lost all its air. How could Torrie not be sure anymore? How could she have changed her mind so suddenly?

  Torrie was shaking her head like Grace would never understand. She started packing up the food, and Grace had to firmly grab her arm to make her stop. “Look,” Torrie finally said. “I need time with this, Grace.”

  “I thought you wanted me?” Grace was confused. Was Torrie trying to repay her for the way Grace had rejected her at the golf tournament? Did she just not find Grace attractive anymore?

  Torrie looked almost ashamed, and her voice cracked with regret. “You’re not just someone I want to fuck anymore, Grace.”

  “I’m not?” Grace didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended.

  Torrie turned a hot shade of crimson. “I mean…you are, but… Oh, shit, Grace. I… I want us to go slow. To be sure of what’s happening between us.”

  Grace’s sigh came out deeper than she’d intended. She was stunned and disappointed, incredibly so, but after a quick moment, her heart lurched pleasurably. This was definitely not the woman who’d told her in Hartford that she’d go to bed with her in the blink of an eye. “You’ve changed, Torrie.”

  Torrie shrugged but looked pleased. She returned to gathering their things.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Torrie had just downed another shot of Jack Daniels when the door to her aunt’s cottage was flung noisily open.

  She jumped up from the rattan couch she’d been getting slowly drunk on and tried to pull herself together. It was only Catie, typically jocular and full of energy, bursting in like she’d been expected. She stood in front of Torrie with a wide grin on her face.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Torrie demanded, unsteady on her feet.

  “Fine greeting that is, cousin.” Catie dropped her large duffel bag on the floor and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned with a glass and poured generously from Torrie’s bottle. “Heard you were alone and thought you could use some company.”

  Torrie groaned and fell back on the couch. “Alone, yes. Wanting company? Not so much.”

  “Shut up,” Catie teased, taking a noisy slurp of bourbon. She dropped onto the couch beside Torrie, hoisted her booted feet onto the coffee table. “What’s up with you anyway, sitting here getting drunk all by yourself?”

  Torrie filled her glass again, her eyelids beginning to droop a little. What she could use right now was a nap.

  Catie reached for the stereo’s remote control and turned down the James Blunt CD. “Christ, Torrie, you’re all lovesick over Grace Wellwood, aren’t you?” She sounded grumpy about the prospect.

  “Shut up.” Torrie couldn’t think of anything more profound to say.

  Catie looked at her like she was out of her mind. “I’ve never seen you like this, Tor. Maybe I should take you to the hospital. Or at least a good psychiatrist. Christ, you’re scaring me.”

  “Fuck off.”

  They really were like sisters and could be rude to one another the way no else could. Catie just laughed and patted Torrie’s knee. “Oh, my little Torrie is growing up to be a woman right before my eyes.”

  Torrie scowled at Catie. “Just you wait.”

  “Oh, no. Don’t give me some speech about how when the right woman comes along, I’ll suddenly become a walking romance novel like you.” Catie shook her head. “I never would have thought you’d be such a sucker.”

  “Well, maybe that’s you’re problem. Not thinking.”

  “Hey, don’t take your troubles out on me. Jeez. At least tell me you’ve gotten Grace into bed by now. I mean, if you’re going to be this miserable, you’d better at least be getting a good piece of ass out of it.”

  Catie was right about Torrie feeling miserable. She’d blown it with Grace—again. First she’d pushed too hard, and now, just when Grace was finally ready to sleep with her, she’d turned her down. She just couldn’t seem to get it right with her, no matter what she did. She looked at Catie and didn’t bother to hide her feelings.

  Catie’s eyes widened a little with instant recognition. “Christ, Torrie. You really are serious, aren’t you?”

  Torrie took a deep, painful breath and twirled the glass in her hand, watching the amber liquid helplessly swirl and give in to gravity. She was a little disoriented, detached, spinning like the whiskey, because she no longer knew how to define her relationship with Grace. It had gone so quickly from raw attraction to something so much more ambiguous, so much deeper.

  “I think I’m in love with her,” she said plainly. She took another burning sip, wishing it would make things better, or at least make her forget how complicated they were. Things were so much simpler when she just wanted to bed a woman and move on.

  “So what’s wrong? She doesn’t want you?”

  Torrie shook her head. “She didn’t, but now she does. I think.”

&nb
sp; “So what’s the problem?”

  “She wanted to make love yesterday and I said no.”

  Catie nearly fell off the couch. “You what?”

  That got a smile out of Torrie. “I know, I know. But I’m serious, C. About her.”

  Catie took a long, musing sip of her drink. “So you can’t be serious and have sex? Jesus, if that’s the case, I’m never getting serious about anyone!”

  If nothing else, Catie was at least good for a laugh or two. “It’s not about the sex, Catie. But I feel like, if I do sleep with her right now, then it will become all about the sex. And I don’t want that. It’s too soon.”

  Catie concentrated on her glass for a long time, her dark brows furrowed in rare contemplation. It’d been a long time since they’d bared their souls to each other about anything, or even had a serious discussion about anything other than golf. Torrie had tried to talk to her about Grace back at the golf tournament, but Catie just hadn’t wanted to go there. She knew Catie was thoughtful, sensitive and very bright under all that butch sex appeal and turbo-charged libido. She knew it because they were so much alike.

  “So what do you want, Tor?”

  Torrie set her untouched glass down on the coffee table. She didn’t want any more alcohol. It wouldn’t help her clarify things with Grace anyway. “I want to be with her. I mean, really spend time with her, talk to her, go places with her, share things with her. I want to be important to her. I want her to look at me like… Christ, I don’t know.” Torrie sighed heavily, unable to conjure up the right words. “I’ve realized a lot of things lately, C.”

  Catie looked apprehensive, as though whatever affliction had come over Torrie might be contagious. Torrie couldn’t help but chuckle. “Relax, would ya?”

  “I’m trying,” Catie said. “This whole new you is a little bit of a shock, that’s all.”

  “You mean you didn’t see this coming after I met Grace in Hartford?”

  Catie shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did. But I thought it was a passing thing. That you weren’t yourself because of your injury and stuff.”

  “I’m not myself at all. And it’s because of both the injury and Grace.”

  “Huh?”

  Torrie began massaging her temples, knowing she was going to feel like crap in a few hours—maybe even sooner. “See, if it hadn’t been for my injury, I wouldn’t have taken the time to get to know Grace last week. I would have written her off the first time she turned me down. But I’ve got all this time to think, Catie. To see things differently.”

  “And?”

  “And my mother was right.”

  “About what?”

  “She told me there was more to life than my career.”

  “There is?”

  Torrie smacked Catie on the thigh, knowing Catie was just pulling her chain. “Yeah, stupid, there is. I just never realized it til now.”

  “Just like that? And from a woman you’ve never even slept with?”

  Torrie stared absently at one of her aunt’s paintings on the far wall, one that she’d looked at so many times, she didn’t even see it anymore. “Meeting Grace made me realize I had so little to offer a woman. I’ve been living my life like some shallow, self-absorbed idiot. Like life is my own personal smorgasbord of fun, just waiting for me to pick and choose what I want. It’s pathetic, Catie, and I don’t want to be like that anymore. I’m fucking tired of it.”

  Catie took a long sip of her drink. When she looked at Torrie again, her face had that doubtful expression that reminded Torrie of the time when they were kids and Torrie, being a year older, explained the birds and the bees to her. “Okay, let me get this straight. You’re tired of slutting around and you want to settle down. Fine, but you’re not quitting the Tour, are you?”

  “No, I’m not quitting the Tour. And yes, I want to settle down.” Torrie could hardly believe the words herself. She wouldn’t have even thought them weeks ago, let alone speak them. But so much had changed. She had changed. She wanted so many things now she never thought she would.

  Catie looked relieved. “Okay. Thank God I still have a job. So how does your little chef fit into all this?”

  Grace. Who’d opened so many doors in Torrie’s life and who’d probably closed just as many. “I don’t know. I love her. I want to be with her, but…” Torrie fumbled with her hands and fumbled with her thoughts.

  “What? You said she was begging for it yesterday. She obviously wants you. What’s the problem?”

  Torrie frowned at Catie’s choice of words. She could be so crass sometimes. “I’m not sure how she feels about me. And like I told you, I don’t want it to just be sex with her.”

  “Well, duh. Talk to her about it.”

  Torrie drummed her fingers on her thigh. She did need to talk to Grace, tell her how much she meant to her, see what they both wanted. It scared Torrie far more than anything else in her life had. What if Grace wasn’t ready to jump into another relationship? What if she was scared off by Torrie’s track record with women, the demands of her career, or… There were so many obstacles, it seemed.

  “Aw, Christ, Catie. This relationship stuff is harder than the worse bunker shot you could ever imagine. Worse than those damn pot bunkers at Carnoustie in Scotland.”

  “So I’m beginning to see.”

  “Hey, what about you?” Torrie grinned and tried to lighten the mood. “You cooking anything up with Trish Wilson?”

  Catie shrugged and did her best to look coy, but Torrie knew it was a poor act. “I wish I was. I mean, I’d like to.”

  “Be nice to her. She’s a chef, which means she’s probably very good with knives!”

  Catie laughed. “I might just find out. She’s coming in tonight.”

  “She is? Grace never said anything yesterday.”

  “Grace doesn’t know. Trish is surprising her for her fortieth birthday tomorrow.”

  So it was Grace’s birthday. She hadn’t mentioned it. “Damn, I’ve got to get her a present.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Trish says Grace will kill her if any of us make a big deal out of it. She’s not big on birthdays.”

  Somehow, that didn’t surprise Torrie. Grace was pretty low- key and down-to-earth, though she could certainly picture Grace making a big splash out of someone else’s birthday. Making it perfect with all her special touches.

  “Anyway,” Catie continued, “Trish invited us to come over for dinner tomorrow. Just the four of us.”

  “Ah, so that’s really why you’re here, because Trish invited you.”

  Catie didn’t look the least bit guilty. “Well, she did send me an e-mail saying that if I happened to be on the island, to come by for Grace’s birthday. And to make sure I brought you.”

  Torrie winced. “I’m not sure Grace is going to be all that excited to see me.”

  “Bullshit. She’s not going to go from throwing herself at you one day to not wanting anything to do with you the next. Trust me.”

  Torrie wasn’t so sure.

  Torrie took her time playing with Grace’s dog, avoiding Grace’s eyes, though she felt them on her. She was afraid to look at Grace and discover that Grace might have emotionally banished her, the way Grace had woken up one day not long ago and decided she no longer wanted to be with her lover. Had she already done that with Torrie? Decided she didn’t want her, after all? She couldn’t really blame her if she had. Grace had opened herself up to Torrie, took a chance with her on that blanket on Smoke Island, and Torrie had turned her down.

  God! Was I stupid or what?

  A drink was finally pressed into her hand. It was an ice-cold beer, and she smiled her thanks to Trish.

  “Why don’t you two enjoy your beer on the deck and we’ll be out in a minute?” she said to Torrie and Catie.

  “It’d be much nicer if you two came out with us,” Catie said hopefully. She hadn’t stopped grinning since they’d arrived, nor could she keep her eyes off Trish.

  Trish laughed, and h
er eyes lingered on Catie. Their mutual attraction was obvious, and Torrie was happy for Catie. Maybe it would give her cousin a sliver of understanding of what she felt for Grace.

  “We have a few things to do in the kitchen first,” Trish replied. “Then we’ll be happy to join you.”

  Torrie wrinkled her nose and inhaled deeply. “Is that corn bread I’m smelling?”

  “You have a keen sense of smell, Torrie.”

  “I do where food’s concerned.”

  Trish left them to join Grace in the kitchen, Catie’s eyes following her the entire way.

  “C’mon,” Torrie said, leading the way outside, ushering Remy out as well.

  “Are you going to talk to her, Tor?” Catie plopped down on a wooden chaise lounge, but Torrie decided to stand by the railing, unable to relax until she knew whether Grace had forgiven her for her impetuous decision. She couldn’t help but think she’d blown the one real chance she’d ever get with Grace, and now she’d need to brace herself for the unknown. It was like walking blind into a tournament without having scouted the course and taken careful notes, or without knowing her opponents. She hated feeling so out of control.

  “I don’t know, Catie. I suppose it’s hopeless, anyway.”