Just Physical (28 page)

“Would you stop it? I told you Crash is just a friend.”

“Crash.” Susana smacked her lips as if tasting the word. She wrinkled her nose. “What kind of name is that?”

Jill shrugged. In the beginning, she had found it strange too, but now she no longer thought about it. “She's a stuntwoman.”

“Ooh! She's an adventurous one, sí?” Susana grinned at her.

Jill just shook her head. It still amazed her a little how casual her housekeeper was about her sexual orientation, even though she'd come to the US as a child and grown up in a Catholic family. If only her own parents could be more like that.

“Crash's adventurous nature is none of my business—or yours,” Jill said, playfully wagging her finger at Susana. “We aren't dating.”

“Oh, so that must be why you're wearing such nice clothes…and why you put on perfume.”

Jill peered down at the jade-colored blouse and the brand-new jeans that hugged her figure nicely. “There's nothing wrong with smelling good and looking nice while having dinner with a friend, is there?”

“No. Nothing wrong with that,” Susana said. “Nothing wrong with going out on a date either.”

“Do we really need to have this discussion again? It's bad enough that Crash is constantly trying to get me to reconsider.”

“Oh, she does?” Susana smiled broadly. “I like her already.”

Me too.
And that was the problem.

The gate buzzer sounded.

Tramp jumped up from his bed and started barking.

“Tramp, hush!” Jill hurried past Susana to the intercom next to the door. “Yes?”

“Hi, it's me—Crash.”

Jill's heart beat faster as she buzzed her in.

A minute later, a knock sounded on the door.

Tramp was still barking and blocking the door in his excitement to greet the visitor first. He danced around in the hall, sniffing and then wagging his tail as if he knew exactly who was on the other side of the door.

Jill pushed him back with one hand, straightened the collar of her blouse with the other, and swung the door open.

Suddenly, she was glad for Tramp's eager greeting, because it gave her a moment to collect herself and to force some fluid back into her parched mouth so she could speak. “Uh, hi,” was the culmination of her efforts as her gaze roved over Crash's bare arms and the sporty blazer she had casually tossed over one shoulder.

“Hi.” Crash bent to greet Tramp and then straightened.

Was there a handbook for this kind of situation? If there was, Jill wanted a copy. How did you greet a friend with benefits? As much as she wanted to kiss Crash, it seemed too intimate without the context of sex, especially with Susana watching. A handshake was too clinical. Their simple “hi” was a bit lame.

Crash solved her problem by stepping closer and giving her a short hug.

The scent of her perfume—clean and fresh with a spicy edge—made Jill weak in the knees. She melted against Crash's body until their heat mingled.

Very aware of Susana lingering somewhere behind her, she forced herself to back away after a few seconds.

“You look great.” Crash let her gaze rove over Jill's blouse and jeans.

“So do you.” Good thing they were going to a restaurant, not to a lesbian bar, because Jill had no intention of spending the evening chasing off all the women salivating over Crash. Not that she had a right to chase them off, she reminded herself. She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away from Crash's arms, left bare by her sleeveless white blouse.

“Nice house,” Crash said, peering past Jill into the living room. “Yours?”

“Yes. Well, mine and the bank's. My grandparents left me some money, and I'm still paying off the rest. Shall we?”

“Aren't you going to ask her in for a tour?” Susana asked from behind her.

Grudgingly, Jill stepped back to let Crash enter. She hadn't wanted her to get too familiar with her home—or with Susana. It felt too much like introducing a date to her family. “Crash, this is Susana Rosales, my housekeeper and friend…and Tramp's grandmother,” she added, earning her a swat to the shoulder. “Susana, this is Crash…Kristine Patterson, my…friend.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Crash flashed one of her charming smiles as she shook Susana's hand.

Susana returned the smile and the handshake.

“Come on. I'll give you the nickel tour.” Jill tugged on her arm, drawing Crash with her before Susana could interrogate her.

Tramp followed them as they went from the kitchen to the office and from there to the living room.

Crash looked around with obvious interest, and Jill wondered what she made of the butter-soft leather couch, the long bookcase, and the exercise bike set up along one wall so Jill could watch TV while she exercised.

Crash wandered to the single French door that led to the backyard and peered out. “What's that?”

Reluctantly, Jill joined her and saw that Crash was pointing at the tire jump, the short tunnel, and the modest A-frame in her backyard. “Oh, those are just a few obstacles that I set up for Tramp. We're taking agility classes once a week. Nothing too ambitious, but it's fun and it helps me stay fit.” When someone had voiced doubts that she'd be able to run alongside Tramp to guide him, it had only made her more determined to try. And when her left leg was acting up, Susana's son ran him through the course for her.

“Wow,” Crash said. “That's impressive.”

Jill grinned. “What? I think she thought we're just beautiful blonde airheads, Tramp.” She caressed the dog's golden fur.

“You're not a blonde,” Crash said, grinning back.

“No, but I played one on TV.”

Crash laughed.

The sound of her laughter poured over Jill like sunshine and made her smile reflexively. If only things could always be like this.

They continued the tour.

“And what's up there?” Crash asked, pointing to the stairs.

“Just the master bedroom, my bathroom, and a guest room,” Jill said but didn't take her upstairs. Fatigue had weighed her down all day, and she didn't want to exhaust herself before the evening started by climbing the stairs. She'd rather conserve her energy for later tonight. The thought made heat pool low in her belly. “We should go. I booked a table for eight.”

“Have a nice evening,” Susana said with a broad grin and held on to Tramp so they could leave the house without him following.

They walked the five blocks to the restaurant side by side, glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

God, Crash looked good. Jill's gaze trailed down her bare arm to her hand. She wanted so much to reach over and entwine their fingers, but she had been the one who insisted it wasn't a date, so she couldn't very well…

Before she finished the thought, Crash's hand slid into hers.

Startled, Jill looked over at her.

“Is this okay?” Crash asked. “I know you said you didn't… It just feels so natural.”

Yes, it did. Jill curled her fingers around Crash's. “It's okay.” No harm in allowing herself to dream a little, right?

They continued their way without saying anything else about it.

“Sorry I was a bit late,” Crash said before the silence could grow awkward. “My mother called just as I was about to leave, and she wanted to know all the details about where I was going. You know how mothers can be.”

“Not really. When my mother calls me, it's either to brag about my brother's latest success in his job as an insurance agent or to give me health advice.”

“Is she a doctor?”

Jill snorted. “No. She's a housewife. She just makes it her mission to read up on any new health fad that could help MS patients.”

“That's good, right? I mean, she's trying to be there for you.”

“That's not the best way to do that. Most of these so-called miracle cures are just wasting my valuable time.”

“Have you told her that?” Crash asked softly.

Jill nodded. “More than once. But every time I do, she claims that I'm just stubborn and in denial.”

“Which you, of course, aren't.” The corners of Crash's mouth twitched as if she was trying not to grin.

“No. Yeah, okay, maybe I can be a little stubborn at times, but I'm not in denial.” At least she didn't think so. She was injecting herself and taking vitamin D pills every day; there was always a fold-up cane and a foot brace in the trunk of her car, just in case, and she avoided getting involved with anyone. She was facing her MS with her eyes wide open, wasn't she?

The warmth of Crash's hand holding hers told her that she might not be as successful avoiding emotional involvement as she wanted to think.

But Crash's fingers entwined with her own felt too good to let go. “So, what did you tell your mother?” she asked to distract herself.

“That it's complicated,” Crash said and left it at that.

“I assume she knows you're gay?”

Crash smiled. “I think she knew when I kept asking for more private lessons because I had a crush on Delia, my math tutor. Normally, she couldn't keep me inside long enough to even open the math book.”

“How old were you?” Jill asked.

“Nine or ten. Delia broke my little heart when she started dating one of my brothers.” Crash clutched her chest in a theatrical gesture.

Jill chuckled. “That bitch.”

“I got over it. Now we laugh about it every time we talk about it.”

“You're still in contact with your math tutor?” Jill asked. She hadn't kept in touch with anyone from back home when she had moved to LA. Somehow, she felt she'd outgrown her old friends and no longer had things in common with them.

Crash nodded and smiled. “I'd better. She's now my sister-in-law.”

Wow. Her family gatherings must be interesting.
Their conversation made the walk to the restaurant pass by quickly, but Jill was glad when they approached the red brick building. Her legs felt like lead, and she had to look where she was stepping because her feet were numb, not giving her any sensory feedback.

She ignored it, not wanting the MS to intrude on their evening. “Here we are,” she said and pointed over to the restaurant's entrance, which was flanked by two palm trees.

She stopped and looked back and forth between the door and the restaurant's courtyard. The sun was about to set, and the lights wrapped around the tall trees in the courtyard were twinkling invitingly.

She should steer them inside, where air-conditioning would help keep her body temperature down and where the setting wasn't as romantic.

But she wanted Crash to experience the best of what her favorite restaurant had to offer. For just this evening, she wanted to let herself imagine what it would be like to really be on a date with Crash. “Want to sit outside?”

“Sure, that sounds nice.”

They stepped onto the large outdoor patio, where two rows of tables were set up beneath striped awnings.

The hostess approached immediately. “Hi, Jill. Table for two?”

“Hi, Laleh. Yes, please.” Jill could feel Crash's surprise as she looked from Jill to their hostess.

Laleh seated them at a small table in a quiet corner, away from the busiest section of the patio. She handed them the menus, lit a candle in a glass globe in the middle of the table, and asked for their drink order. Before she walked away, she winked at Jill.

Obviously, she had seen them walking hand in hand.

“It seems you've been here before,” Crash said.

Jill shrugged. “What can I say? The food is great.”

Crash studied the wall next to their table, which was decorated with a mural of a beautiful seascape. Finally, she turned her attention to the menu. “Anything you can recommend?”

“Everything is good, but the portions are gigantic,” Jill said and nodded toward the plates that were being served at the table next to theirs. “Want to share something?”

Crash didn't hesitate. “Sure. Why don't you pick since you've been here before?”

Hmm.
A woman who wasn't afraid to hand over control. Jill liked that. Again, she couldn't help noticing how compatible they seemed to be. It was a bittersweet realization.

When Laleh returned to bring Crash's Armenian light beer and to refill Jill's water, Jill ordered the chicken soltani for them to share.

“Excellent choice,” Laleh said with a nod of acknowledgment. “You're a woman of great taste.”

“You say that every time, no matter what I order.”

Laleh grinned. “That's because everything on the menu is an excellent choice. I'll be right back with the lavash.”

Crash watched her leave before turning back toward Jill. “Is she just super friendly, or did the two of you use to date?”

Was it just her imagination, or did Crash seem a little jealous? “I told you I don't date.”

“Maybe not right now, but you didn't always have MS.”

The intrusion of her multiple sclerosis into the evening made Jill flinch. Couldn't she have even one evening alone with Crash? “No, we never dated. Perhaps Laleh just likes me because I tip well,” she answered, trying to keep her tone light.

Laleh returned with a stack of thin, soft lavash bread, plates of fresh herbs, and bowls of different dips that came before every meal. “Don't listen to her,” she said to Crash. “I like her because she gets me tickets to movie premieres.”

Crash looked back and forth between them.

“We've been friends ever since I bought the house a couple of years ago,” Jill finally explained as Laleh walked away. “Her family owns the restaurant, and since I'm not much of a cook, I spend a lot of time here.”

She showed Crash how to sprinkle basil and mint on the lavash, roll it up, and dip it alternately in the eggplant dip, the hummus, and the yogurt-and-cucumber dip. She enjoyed being the instructor instead of the student for once. It was a nice change of pace from their interactions on the set, where Crash was the one teaching her how to move when they filmed the lead-ins for the stunts. This was what a relationship was supposed to be like—them taking turns helping each other, not her always being on the receiving end.