Inside This House
© 2007 by Linda Crist


 
Chapter 3


Katie hugged Ryan, her oldest son, who blushed and glanced at his brother and father, and then at his new Aunt Carson, who was leaning in the doorway  "You be good and remember, no football in the afternoon until your homework is done, your room is clean, and the trash is out."


"Yes, ma'am."  He moved away from the bed and his younger brother, Nathan, wriggled into his place.


"I made you a picture, Mama."  He handed her a surprisingly good drawing, for a seven-year old.


"Oh."  Katie fawned over the crayon-covered picture.  "Is that Shamu?"


"Yes!"  Nathan answered with glee.  "And dis is da dolphins jumping through da hoops."  He handed her a second piece of paper.


"My budding artist."  Katie kissed his cheek.  "Will you do me a favor, buddy?  Will you make me a picture every week and ask your Daddy to scan it and e-mail it to me?"


"I can do one every day, Mama."  He beamed.  She kissed him again and gently nudged him off the bed.


Parker took his hand.  "I'll get them settled in the van and then come back in for a minute."  His eyes met Katie's in a longing glance Carson readily recognized.  Brief business trips occasionally separated her and Kennedy for a few days, but the reunions were always sweet.  She couldn't imagine what the prospect of three or four months would feel like.


"Any sign of Erin?"  Katie fretted, fluffing and smoothing the floral-print sheets blanketing her.


"Kennedy found her sitting on the boat."  Carson moved to the window and pulled the curtains aside, peering out at the boathouse.  "I think she's a little --"


"Pissed at me," Katie finished for her.


"For being pregnant?" Parker interjected.



"She's twelve.  Just being in the same room with her is enough," Katie answered with resignation.  "She wouldn't even look at me during breakfast."


Carson finally managed to speak.  "She had nightmares last night."


Unable to snuggle with her mother, and needing maternal soothing, Erin had sought out another form of solace.  Kennedy and Carson had spent a rare night on opposite sides of the bed, with a forlorn twelve-year old between them. Carson yawned.  Erin had finally fallen asleep, but both she and Kennedy had lain awake for a long time.


"She's been having those more and more often."  Katie worried with her wedding band, turning it round and round on her finger.  "Parker, honey, would you have a talk with her teachers?  Her grades are good as ever, but she's having a hard time with something.  I was going to set up appointments with them when we got home, but  -- well -- " She gestured at her rounded belly.


"Sure."  Parker gave Ryan a pat on the head.  "Hey, Slugger, can you go put yours' and Nathan's duffle bags in the van?"  He dangled the keys, which Ryan took with pride.


"Okay, Dad."  He grabbed Nathan's hand.  "Come on, we've got work to do."


"I'll go load the rest of your bags in the van."  Katie and Parker both opened their mouths to protest and Carson raised a hand, forestalling them.  "You're about to spend the last trimester of your pregnancy half a very big state apart.  Tell me you don't need just a little privacy these last few minutes.  Besides, I think I can manage to lift a few small overnight bags."  She smiled as they both sheepishly nodded.


"Thanks, Carson," they responded in unison.  She inclined her head graciously and slipped out of the room.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Gentle waves rocked the boat, as two almost-identical dark heads hovered over the water below, long arms dropping bread crumbs into the water for greedy ducks to squabble over.  "So, we've talked about American history, softball, annoying brothers, snowboarding, and how to get into The University in another six years.  You wanna tell me why you're not speaking to your mother?"


"A boy laughed at me last week at school," Erin stated emphatically.


"And this makes you angry at your mother because why, exactly?"  Kennedy smiled.  She was more than twice Erin's age, but not so far removed she couldn't remember what it was like to be twelve.  Everything was a crisis, if she recalled, and every moment in school an opportunity for potential disaster or embarrassment.  "Why did the boy laugh at you?"


"He said I had headlights."  Erin looked down and blushed all the way to the roots of her hair.


"Headlights?"  Kennedy frowned, following Erin's gaze to her chest.  "Oh.  Well, I wish I could tell you that's temporary, but unfortunately, Sweetpea, you're going to have many occasions of, um, headlights for the foreseeable future.  A little padding will help out, though."


"That's just it!"  Erin snapped, her head jerking up as she faced Kennedy.  "Mama was going to take me shopping.   I asked her two months ago, and then again, and she's just --"  Erin threw up both hands in frustration and got up, stepping over onto the dock where she began to rant and pace.  "I guess she doesn't have time for it, but I hate school.  All the other girls are wearing them.  I see them when we change for gym and softball.  And next month they're taking the whole sixth grade to the district pool for swimming lessons and we'll have to get completely naked in the locker room long enough to change into swimsuits, and I have this hair and the other girls are going to laugh at me, and no bra, and I just hate it!"


"Whoa, whoa, whoa."  Kennedy leaped across from deck to dock and placed her hand on both of Erin's shoulders.  "One problem at a time, huh?  Hair?  What's wrong with your hair?  It's beautiful."


"Not this hair."  Erin grasped a handful of the thick mane covering her own head.  "This hair!"  She patted under one arm.  "And this hair!"  She delicately pointed between her legs.  "And on my legs."  She pulled up one leg of her jeans to reveal the beginnings of dark peach fuzz.  "Mama was going to show me how to shave, but she can't even bend all the way over right now.  Besides, I think she forgot about that, too.  I want to be home-schooled," Erin wailed.


"Okay."  Kennedy managed to suppress a chuckle.  Drama.  It was all coming back to her, now.  Sixth grade was one giant stage production.  "First, I would be willing to bet you're not the only girl with hair in all those places, so you won't be alone.  Come inside the boat and we can fix a couple of those problems, right now."


"Really?"  Erin's eyes lit up, her gaze upon Kennedy as if she were a deity.


"Really."  Kennedy guided her back onto the sailboat pulled back the hatch door.  "Step inside.  Careful going down that ladder."


She turned on a light and moved back through the narrow passage between the galley and the table.  The room was all honey-stained teak, and smelled of wood, lake water, and varnish.  Overlaying it was the lingering scent of the stir-fry she and Carson had cooked up during a brief Sunday outing a few days earlier.  On a shelf behind the table was a laptop computer, and she pulled it out and flipped it open, watching as it wirelessly connected to the router inside the house.  "Okay, which of these do you like best?"


Erin came around and leaned over her shoulder, as they studied a selection of training bras.  "Oh, the blue one, and the one with the little purple flowers."


"Flowers?"  Kennedy answered in surprise.


"All the girls have the ones with the flowers on them," Erin insisted, her blue eyes sparkling at the prospect of finally getting her first foundation garments.


"Alright blue and purple flowers, it is, and I'm going to get you one peach-colored one to wear under your white shirts.  And how about a couple of the sports bras for when you play softball?"  Erin nodded enthusiastically and Kennedy made a few clicks.  The bras, featuring minimal support and just the lightest padding, were perfect for Erin, whose main problem at present was not a large chest, but rather nipple modesty.  In truth, she was still relatively flat, and if she continued to follow in Kennedy's footsteps, could look forward to being barely a B-cup someday, if she was lucky.  Even Carson's C-cups were more ample, not that Kennedy had any complaints.  But she well-remembered those junior high school locker rooms and her own desire for coverage like the other girls.


She finished the order and closed the laptop.  "Okay, you're going to get a package Fed-exed to you tomorrow.  I sent it to the house since y'all are off for spring break.  You think you'll need help putting them on?"


"Maybe."  Erin nibbled her lower lip.  "I don't think I can ask Dad to help with that, but I can ask my friend Jessica's mother to help me if I do."


"Good."  Kennedy silently and gleefully acknowledged her brother owed her big time.  She placed a hand on Erin's shoulder.  "You and Jess are still best friends?"


"Yeah.  Most of the time, when she isn't hanging out with Jerrod," Erin groused.


"Jerrod?  What happened to Tyler?" Kennedy directed Erin back toward the head and had her take a seat on the toilet lid.


"Tyler broke up with her.  Everyone thinks it's so cute, them together with their names.  People keep calling them JJ, like J-Lo or something.  It makes me want to puke.  I don't know why she needs all those boys, anyway."  Large soulful eyes met Kennedy's with a stark pain she remembered all too well.  Those first un-named yearnings toward other girls she didn't understand at the time.  After their talk at Thanksgiving, she knew Erin was just beginning to figure things out.  It hurt, knowing there was very little she could do to protect her from the rocky years she would most likely face in high school.


"Well, if it's anything like when I was in sixth grade, Jerrod will be history sooner or later, as well."  Kennedy rummaged through a drawer under the bed, and looked up long enough to offer a sympathetic smile, which was returned full-measure.  "Alright."  She stood, holding up an unused razor, offering a mental apology to Carson for pilfering her supplies.  "This one has triple blades and it's wrapped with wire, which means less chance of cutting yourself.  And it has this nifty compartment to put the shaving gel in."  She held it where Erin could watch her fill it up.  "You got dark ones on the tops of your legs?"  Erin blushed again and shook her head.  "Good.  Don't shave up there as long as they're blonde.  Trust me.  If you're lucky they might not go dark and it's less work.  Once you shave it, there's no going back."


"But I want to shave," Erin answered plaintively.


Kennedy knelt down, helping her roll her jeans legs up.  "Sweetpea, trust me on this, okay?  I know it all seems very grown-up and fun right now, but twenty years from now, it will only be a pain in the behind when you're running late for work someday.  Shaving just the bottom half of your leg is a whole lot less trouble than doing the whole thing.  Now, I'm going to show you how to do your legs and then we'll talk about your underarms."


She helped Erin at first, guiding the razor as they both held it, then letting Erin have a solo go at the smooth, even strokes.  After she got the hang of it, and finished both legs, Kennedy convinced a modest Erin to remove her shirt long enough to show her how to do her armpits.  When they were through and Erin was dressed again, Kennedy handed her a bottle of soothing aloe-based lotion to slather onto her calves and shins.  "Don't want to get dry skin there, or razor rash."  She knelt down again, placing a hand on Erin's leg.  "Sweetie, the hair between your legs, is it showing outside your panty lines?"


"No."  Erin's blush was beet red this time and she looked down in embarrassment.  "Just a little bit right there between."  Alarmed eyes rolled up to meet Kennedy's.  "Is it going to grow enough to be outside the lines?"


"Maybe."  Kennedy gave her a little pat on the arm.  "Maybe not.  Every woman is different, but it can be shaved, too.  If you ever decide you need help with it, or with anything else we've talked about today, you know you can call me if you need to, right?"  Another thought occurred to her.  "Sweetie, have you started your period yet?"


"No."  Erin shook her head slightly.  "Only one of my friends has."


"Do you have the supplies you need if you do?  Has your mother showed you how to use them?"  She opened a cabinet, hunting around for teaching tools.


"Yes," Erin answered.


Kennedy breathed a sigh of relief and closed the cabinet door, pivoting toward Erin.  "Well, if you get it while your Mama is staying with us, you call us, okay?  We'll put your Mama on the phone right away, or if she can't talk, I'm here for you.  You might have questions afterward you don't have right now."


"Okay," Erin smiled shyly, then threw her arms around Kennedy.  "Thank you, Auntie Shea!  You saved my life."


Kennedy returned the hug, then helped Erin up.  As they turned and stepped from the head back into the bunkroom, Parker poked his head inside.  "Hey.  What's going on?"


Kennedy shook her head at him slightly, and patted Erin's back.  "Why don't you go say your goodbyes to your mother.  I need to have a chat with your brother, okay?"


Erin practically skipped the short distance to the doorway, then turned.  "You going to come back inside before we leave?"


"Absolutely."  They watched her leave and Kennedy turned pointedly to Parker.  "Say, 'thanks, Sis'."


"Okay.  Thanks, Sis.  What am I thanking you for?"  Parker leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms.


"Your daughter is growing up, Parker.  I just taught her how to shave her legs and armpits.  She was worried about the school swimming lessons next month."  Kennedy mimicked his pose, leaning against the wall next to him.


"Oh, gosh.  I think Katie mentioned something about that.  Oh, man.  Poor Erin.  I think she feels like she's getting lost in the shuffle."  He studied Kennedy remorsefully.  "Truly, thanks."


"One more thing," Kennedy smiled smugly.  "She's getting a Fed-ex package tomorrow.  Don't open it if you get it.  Just give it to her and let her take it to her room to open it in privacy.  And if she runs down the street with it to Jessie's house, just let her go, no questions asked, okay?"


"Why?  What's in it?"  Parker glared at her suspiciously.  "I told her Play Station was enough.  No Nintendo, too."


"No, no, nothing like that." Kennedy sashayed past him and patted his arm.  "Just some training bras."  She climbed the ladder back up to the deck, leaving him behind.


"Oh, okay," he mumbled dumbly.  Then her words sunk in.  "Hey!  Wait up!"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Kennedy set aside her speech notes and yawned, then pinched the bridge of her nose.  Her eyes were tired and her brain even more exhausted.  They'd set a press conference for the next afternoon -- Tuesday -- on the Capitol steps, to announce her candidacy for House Representative in District 48.  She'd informed Chip of her intention to run the day after Parker and the kids left for Odessa.  She'd received an exuberant phone call from Erin that same day, informing her the bras had arrived and fit perfectly, and thanking her profusely for being the coolest aunt, ever.  She couldn't decide who had been more excited that day, Chip or Erin, but the call from Erin was certainly the more gratifying.  Politicians were a dime a dozen, but being the coolest aunt ever, now that was priceless.


Now, a week later, her announcement speech was written and memorized, and all she had left to do was pick up her black suit from the cleaners and get a good night's sleep.  At least that was all there was left on the political front.  On the professional side she still needed to review some fifty resumes from potential associates, file two sets of corporate records with the Secretary of State, and meet with a refugee family from Darfur to help them with a number of issues related to re-settling in the Austin area.


Then there was the home front.  Katie was settling in nicely, bonding with Carson in a budding friendship that almost made Kennedy envious, wishing she had the kind of time to spend with her partner that Katie was spending.  Carson had more than stepped up to the plate, not only taking care of Katie, but also taking on more than her share of chores at home so that Kennedy could have time to write and rehearse her speech.  She made mental note to do something extra special for Carson -- something more than the flowers she still had delivered to the house very Monday, a habit she'd gotten into after their first weekend together.  Her office mates teased her mercilessly if they caught her making the phone call to the florist, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for the obvious happiness the flowers brought to Carson, and the many creative ways she came up with to thank Kennedy for them.


She gazed dreamily at the framed photo of Carson sitting on the bookshelf.  It was one she'd taken a few weeks after Carson's move to Austin -- Carson was sitting on the porch swing at home, clad in a pale green tank top and cut-offs, her features free of any cosmetics other than the kiss of the sun on her slightly-pink cheeks.  The pastel shirt set off a nice summer tan and her hair was bleached almost white from the sun, the shadows outlining the cut of well-defined bicep and triceps muscles.  Her smile lit up her entire face, and looking at it, Kennedy decided she'd never known anyone more beautiful.


No matter how annoying the rest of the world got, this gorgeous creature who inexplicably loved her like crazy was what she had to look forward to each evening when she got home.  Her intercom buzzed, startling her out of her daydreams.  "Yes?"


"Chip and Brian are here to see you," Marcus replied in his most professional tone.  "And there seems to be a media contingent waiting outside in the parking lot."


Kennedy rolled her eyes in frustration.  "Thanks, Marcus.  Send 'em in.  Chip and Brian, not the media," she clarified.  "Any idea why they're here?  The media, I mean."


"I'll explain in just a minute, Miss Nocona," Brian's voice cut in, grating on her nerves.


Speaking of annoying.  Chip had hired Brian Lockhart, a local political guru, to be her campaign manager.  They'd met but once, to go over the details of the press conference, and she'd immediately disliked him.  It was obvious he was all about image and playing for the camera, something that left a distinctly bad taste in her mouth.  While Chip fussed over the issues to cover in her speech, Brian worried more about the time of day of the announcement, the angle of the sun, and the color of her blouse.  It was fine for Carson to offer opinions on her clothing, but having Brian mentally nosing around in her closet had almost gotten him a bloody nose.  "Alright, come on in, then."  She released the intercom button and stood as they entered her office.  "Chip, Brian."  She nodded and shook proffered hands, then gestured toward her guest chairs.  "Have a seat."


"Is your speech ready to go?"  Rather than sitting down, Brian moved to the window and peered out toward the parking lot.


"I've had it memorized for three days now," she replied evenly.  "You want to go over it again?  I figured you two would be as sick of hearing it by now as I am, after that marathon planning session Friday afternoon.  I can't even get my dogs to listen to it anymore.  Relax, y'all.  My suit is pressed and ready, and I'm good to go."


"What you have on now is fine," Chip answered nervously, not quite making eye contact.


Kennedy looked down at her navy blue pants suit and white blouse.  "Thanks, but really, I do intend to change clothes before tomorrow."


"About tomorrow --" Brian turned back toward her.  "I'm glad your speech is ready, because we decided to make the announcement this afternoon.  Give the public a chance to see your office building - get a picture of you as a hard-working attorney.  You know, just you in your element as a public servant."  He cleared his throat and Kennedy gave him what she knew was a dumbfounded look.


"Why the last-minute change?"  No answer was forthcoming and so she forged on.  "My staff is closing the office to be there tomorrow, my friends are all taking off work early to get good seats, and my partner bought a new outfit just for the occasion.  She'll be madder than hell if she misses it, and I'll never hear the end of it from my family if no one knows to record it for them.  We promised them Fed-exed DVDs of the whole thing."


"We thought maybe if the public sees just you," Chip began, closing his mouth as Kennedy glared him into silence.


"Just me."  She came around the desk, stopping a few feet short of Brian, who stood taller to meet her.  "Not my partner.  Just me.  I get it.  But you sure as hell don't."


"Miss Nocona." Brian smiled, reminding her of The Jungle Book's Kaa the python.  "We have the liberal vote.  Our goal is to win over as many moderate voters as we can.  We just thought, perhaps, if we introduced them to you first, and let them get to know you, we could bring Carson into the picture later, maybe in a few months."


"I see."  Kennedy's eyes narrowed, watching him unconsciously move away from her one step.  She turned her back on him, moving to the window, trying to get a grip on the rage engulfing her system.   Several news vans were parked in the parking lot, and she could see a small podium set up on the front steps of the building.  Two electrical technicians were busy hooking up a microphone stand and speakers, and as she watched a camera man suddenly blocked her view, snapping her picture a half dozen times before she closed the blinds and slowly turned around.


She unhooked her Treo from its waist clip and punched a speed-dial button.  "Hey."  She tilted her head, listening as Carson began to rattle off the usual string of 'when are you coming home,' 'I'm making X for dinner,' and 'are we going to the gym tonight?'  "Sweetheart, turn on the television and get the DVR going."  Pausing to listen to Carson's question of 'why,' she took the opportunity to not so much glare at Chip and  Brian, but rather to project unadulterated hatred in their general direction.  Both men shrank back and lowered their eyes.  "Carson, just any of the major stations will do, and promise not to kill me, okay?  I'll explain later, I promise.  Maybe over dinner at Threadgill's?"  Hopefully her carnivore lover could be appeased with her favorite chicken fried steak.


After a few more moments of silence on her end, Kennedy placed the Treo back on her belt and leaned back against the wall between the widows, crossing her arms.  "Alright.  If it's an announcement you want, it's an announcement you'll get."


"Thank you for your co-operation, Kennedy.  We really do think it's for the best."  Brian found his courage and moved in next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.  She grasped it, flinging it away from her as she strode purposefully toward the office lobby.


"Don't thank me yet."  She spun around, causing Chip and Brian to almost collide as they halted to avoid running into her.


"Here's your speech notes," Chip picked them up from her desk and held them out helpfully.


She took the notes and ripped them savagely in half, balling up the pieces and hurling them into the trash can as she entered the lobby.  "Thanks, but I won't be needing them today."  She spun back around and headed for the door, Chip and Brian running after her.


"Kennedy --"  Chip beseeched her.


"Don't."  She held up one finger, shaking it in his face.  "You either, Brian."  Glaring at both of them one more time, she grabbed the front door knob and jerked it open.


"What's she planning to do?"  Chip looked around first at Marcus and then at Valerie, who was leaning in the doorway watching the show.  Amanda and Kristy, the paralegal and secretary merely smirked, also enjoying the impromptu entertainment on what had been a typical crazy Monday.


"I don't know," Marcus answered, "but at least she hasn't killed either of you."


"Yet."  Valerie finished for him.  "Gentlemen, I have work to do, if you'll excuse me."  She closed her office door and the rest of the staff followed suit, leaving the men alone with Marcus.


"Let's get out there," Chip pushed past Brian, whose mouth was still hanging open.  His jaw clicked audibly closed and he followed, hearing Marcus giggle like a girl as the door closed behind them.


Outside, Kennedy was all smiles and charm, waving at a few of the news crew she recognized.  After all, it wasn't her first time to make the evening news in Austin -- she had too many prominent court victories under her belt to be a complete novice at playing nice for the cameras.  As she reached the podium, she took a deep breath and adjusted the microphone for her height.  Casting a questioning look at the sound tech, she received a thumbs-up, indicating they were live.


"Good afternoon.  Thank you all for coming out for the first part of my two-part announcement."  She paused and smiled, giving the still photographers a chance to capture a few shots.  Chip and Brian had scrambled for spots to the right and front of her, and looking toward them, she saw Brian mouth 'two-part?' at Chip, who merely shrugged and turned back in her direction.  The smile remained on her lips but left her eyes.  "As of this afternoon, I'm officially tossing my hat in the race as the Democratic candidate for District 48 in the Texas House of Representatives.  Many of you received invitations to meet with me on the Capitol steps tomorrow afternoon at 3:00 p.m.  For those who have and for those who haven't, and for any other viewers and listeners out there who are interested, everyone is still invited to come on down tomorrow, where I'll speak more in depth on my views and motives for running, and where I'll introduce my partner, Carson Garret, who couldn't be here this afternoon."


A hand shot up, followed by several others, and she leaned forward, projecting the better side of her personality across the media crowd.  "If y'all will forgive me, I'll reserve question and answer for tomorrow.  Once again, thank you for coming out here on short notice.  I promise to be more forthcoming tomorrow.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some deadlines to meet."


With no further word, she turned and strode back inside the office, a confused buzz from the crowd washing over her from behind.   Chip and Brian said a few short thank-yous and quickly followed after her.


"What was that all about?"  Brian's voice rose in anger as they entered the office once more and closed the door.


"I'll not be handled," Kennedy shot back at him.  She could feel the heat of anger on her face and she moved closer, almost nose to nose with him.  "You ever pull a stunt like that again, and you're fired."  Without missing a beat, she turned to Chip.  "You ever allow anyone to pull a stunt like that again, and you can go shopping for a new candidate.  Carson and the children we eventually plan to have are just about the only reason I decided to do this thing.  It's their future I'd like to make better.  Not mine.  And certainly not yours."


"Miss Nocona," Brian chose a new tactic, his voice a low attempt at a soothing coo.  "I've helped several candidates win their elections, including two gay ones.  That's why the Stonewall Democrats hired me to assist you.  Studies have shown that you'll do better if you downplay --"


"What?  My gayness?  My lifestyle?"  She snorted.  "I'm already out, Brian.  Anyone who doesn't already know that need only Google my name and they'll find me on the roster of the state and county Gay Bar Associations and see my smiling face in a picture on their float in last year's pride parade.  After what you pulled today, you'll be lucky if I don't show up in a rainbow t-shirt tomorrow with dyke haircut number one and my tongue pierced."


"Dyke haircut number one?"   Chip asked in fascination.


Kennedy rolled her eyes.  "The point is that Carson is my life partner.  Every political candidate I've ever seen on television had their supportive spouse standing nearby.  Carson is and wants to be that to me, and lord knows I need her beside me.  If y'all knew me better, you'd understand that.  She really is my better half, and I can guarantee you she is the one who is going to win over your moderate voters, not me.  I can't and I won't do this without her, so get over it already and treat her with the same respect you would if I were Bill and she were Hillary.  You got me?"


"Does this mean when your term is up we can start grooming her to run?"  Brian joked.


"You'll be lucky to still be living after I explain to her what happened today," she quipped back.  "If she had been in Hillary's shoes, Bill would be a eunuch and Monica would have no lips.  Now, I need you two to make sure everything is still set for the real press conference tomorrow, while I go home and make nice with a pissed-off blonde."


Her Treo buzzed and she lifted it, noting Carson's photo on the caller ID screen.  "Hoo, boy.  Speaking of , I'd best take this one if I want to sleep in my own bed tonight.  Y'all go on.  Chip, I'll call you in the morning."  She cast a saccharine smile at Brian.  "Chip will call you after I call him."


As both men attempted to speak, she went inside her office and closed the door.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The early evening air was pleasantly warm with a light breeze, and after finding no residual news crew slinking around, Kennedy chose to wait outside the office for Carson, who was on her way into town to meet her for dinner.  For some unfathomable reason Carson had barely registered more than mild irritation after Kennedy explained the impromptu press conference.  No yelling.  No threatening to cut off body parts and strangle Brian with them.  No blowing her top at all.  Instead she was completely fixated on visiting a high-end antiques store in far south Austin before dinner.  Even more disturbing, she'd turned down the chicken fried steak at Threadgill's in favor of some surprise location.  Not that Carson's surprises were often off the mark.  On the contrary, they were usually quite memorable.


Kennedy smiled, ambling aimlessly back and forth on the Town Lake trail behind the office.  She had a clear view of her office parking lot from the popular jogging path, and would be able to see Carson's Civic when she drove up.  Still winding down from the day's events, she scrolled through her e-mail on her Treo, making sure no loose ends were hanging that needed attention before dinner.  "Oooo."  She scanned an evening traffic report she had delivered each day at 5:00 p.m.  "Major wreck on MoPac.  Hope Carson took the back road or she's gonna be pissed."


Satisfied she could risk enjoying herself for a few hours, she placed the Treo back in its holster and looked up, just as Carson pulled into the parking lot.  "Nice," Kennedy murmured, as Carson got out of her car and walked casually toward her.  She was clad in flat sandals and a light pale blue spring dress that came to just above her knees, and was backlit by the sun, leaving very little of her curves to Kennedy's appreciative imagination.


As she drew closer, Kennedy noted one of the purple Irises she'd sent that day, pinned to Carson's dress, and another tucked casually into her hair on one side.  "Hey there, beautiful."  They kissed lightly and clasped hands.  "I see the flowers arrived."


"Right on time."  Carson leaned toward her, planting a more lingering kiss on her lips.  "Thank you.  They're some of my favorites."


"I know."  She studied Carson's face, which was glowing in the pink light of the low sun.  "You hit that traffic on MoPac?"


"Yeah, but I left early."  Carson waved her free hand.  "No big deal."


Kennedy peered at her more closely, wondering who this practically giddy pod person was, and where her high-strung lover was hiding.  "So, what's at this store you're so anxious to show me?  You planning on re-decorating the house?"


"No, silly."  Carson playfully slapped her arm.  "You know I love what you've done with the house.  It's one of the things that intrigued me about you, early on."


That was true.  They'd discovered during their first weekend together that they both shared a love of northwestern décor.  "Well, you've had me curious all afternoon."


"Well, come on, then." Carson tugged her toward the parking lot and soon they were on the way in Kennedy's 4Runner.


"You're not mad about the press conference?"  Kennedy turned toward her as they waited at a red light.


"If you hadn't called me, I would've been."  Carson shrugged.  "As it is, I think you handled it about as well as you could have."


"Thanks."  Kennedy patted Carson's hand, which was resting on her thigh.  "Considering I was winging it, that's nice to hear."


"Not like you could just no-show with all those news cameras waiting for you.  And certainly not like it was your fault.  This Brian guy - you know me.  Sure, I'd like to beat him over the head with a clue-by-four.   I think --"  Carson smiled a bit mysteriously.  "What I think is that it means a lot to me that you wanted me there as much as you did.  That you didn't just go along with them and give your speech today.  If you had, I would've gotten over it.  Eventually."  She laughed.  "But more than anything, it would have really hurt to not be there with you for something this big."


"No way I'd allow something this big to happen without you there."  The light turned green and Kennedy put her foot on the gas.


"Good.  I like being a part of your life.  I hope you know that."  Carson squeezed her leg.  "Right up here, on the left."


Kennedy glanced at her, noting that glow again.  "Here?"


"Yeah."  As they pulled into a parking spot on the street, Carson leaned over and kissed her.


Safely parked with the engine off, Kennedy turned and pecked Carson's lips once, then a few more times, ending with one more lingering kiss.  "Hey.  I do know, and I can't imagine my life without you in it.  Not anymore."


Carson's eyes sparkled.  "I can't wait to show you what I found here.  The owner is holding them for us in the back."


Them?  Kennedy got out of the truck and Carson grabbed her hand, practically dragging her into the dark, cool store.  It wasn't the average antique place.  No cedar chests from east Texas rummage sales there.  Instead it was filled with obviously expensive well-kept furniture, china, artwork, and other object d'art, much of which appeared to be from Europe and the Orient.  It was all very nice and very elegant, but not much of it appeared to be anything that would mix well with the Native American artifacts sprinkled throughout their house.


"Ah.  Mademoiselle Garret."  A short stout man appeared from behind a curtain at the back of the store.  "And this must be your fiancé."  He lifted Kennedy's hand and to her surprise, placed a kiss on it before he leaned in and kissed Carson on each cheek.  "It is as you said."  He smiled at Kennedy.  "She is a magnificent woman.  Mademoiselle Nocona, I'm Jacques, and you may call me Jacques."


Kennedy blushed as she realized he was referring to her.  "Thank you.  Nice to meet you."  She licked her lips and felt Carson squeeze her hand.  Licking her lips was a nervous gesture and Carson had immediately picked up on it.  Somehow, Carson knowing her that well made the nervousness vanish just as quickly as it had come over her.


Jacques lifted her hand and shared a knowing smile with Carson.  "I believe you are correct."


"Correct about what?"  Kennedy had little time to wonder, as she was tugged into the back room by Carson, who was following eagerly at Jacques' heels.


"Close your eyes."  Carson leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Please?"


"Alright."  Kennedy complied, hearing the soft hum of the overhead ceiling fan, and the rattle of glass as someone opened some kind of door or case.  Then her hand was lifted again, this time by Carson, and something cool and metallic slid over her left ring finger.


"Okay, you can open now."  Carson's lips brushed in a tickle against her palm and Kennedy looked down.  A tri-color woven gold band fit perfectly around her finger.  "Look."  Carson held up her own hand, sporting a matching ring.  "That one fits you and this one fits me.  It's like they were made for us."


"They're beautiful," Kennedy replied softly.  "Perfect."  They'd not purchased rings since becoming engaged over Thanksgiving at the Lajitas Resort just outside Big Bend National Park.  They'd talked about it but never really got around to shopping for them, although they had tentatively discussed having a joining ceremony sometime in October, when Austin weather was at its finest.  As she studied the ring, she realized it was nothing like what she'd pictured, but exactly what she wanted.  "I love it," she added.  "I love you."


Carson flung her arms around her neck.  "I'm so glad.  He told me a story about the three colors and the three bands woven together.  See?"  Kennedy nodded, their foreheads almost pressed together.


"It's a wonderful story for the two of you," Jacques added.


"Tell her, please?"  Carson requested breathlessly.


"The yellow gold band, it is for your lovely lady here."  He indicated Carson.  "She tells me she is all fire."


"Very true."  Kennedy laughed lightly, as Carson tweaked her nose.  "All fire and passion and light.  It's everything I love about her."  Gray and blue eyes met, the gray ones misty with unshed tears.  Kennedy reached across with her thumb and caught one in the corner of Carson's eye.


"And the platinum is for you.  She says you're steady and calm -- that you keep a cool head in times of crises."  Jacques indicated the white band.


"My solid rock in the storm of life," Carson added quietly.  "The one thing I can always count on."


Kennedy felt her own eyes water, as Jacques continued, "And the pink gold band, woven together with the gold and the platinum, it symbolizes the love that binds you together."


"I don't think we could find anything more perfect in the whole world."  Kennedy twisted the band around her finger, studying it closely.  "What's this?  These tiny etchings on the bands?"


"Ah, now that is the great mystery of these rings.  May I?"  Jacques slid the ring off Kennedy's reluctant hand.  "The etchings on the outside are ancient Egyptian - they're decorative.  They don't say anything, but look here, inside the band."


Kennedy peered at some tiny markings.  "Those look different."


"They're Greek," Jacques held the band under a light and Carson readily offered hers over as well.  "These rings are centuries old, but have been well-cared for.  The great mystery is how they came to have both ancient Greek and ancient Egyptian etchings on them.  They were discovered in a pirate chest, buried in a cave in south Texas.  The one you were wearing Mademoiselle Nocona, it translates as 'I'm a part of you forever', and the one the little one was wearing translates as 'even in death I'll never leave you'."


A chill raised every hair on Kennedy's scalp, as if an icy finger had trailed across the back of her neck.  She rubbed one arm and Carson rubbed the other one.  "Honey, you have duck bumps on your goose bumps."


"What's that old saying?  'Someone just walked across my grave'?" A shiver worked its way through Kennedy's body and she wiggled her toes inside her shoes as the sensation passed.   "Guess I should've kept my suit jacket on. That pirate chest -- you wouldn't happen to know if it belonged to Isalba Cortez, would you?"  Jacques' wide eyes were the only answer she needed.  "Never mind.  Don't say anymore.  We'll take them.  Hell, I'd be afraid not to."


"Oh," Carson gasped.  "I didn't even make the connection with Isalba."


"Shhhh."  Kennedy pressed a finger against her lips.  "I don't want to think about it right now.  They're beautiful rings that seem custom made for us.  That's about as far as my mind wants to go.  Jacques, can you put them in a ring box for now?"  Large gray eyes questioned her and she leaned over, touching foreheads with Carson again.  "I promise you we'll be wearing them by the end of the evening, okay?"


Carson smiled.  "I think I'm reading your mind.  Or maybe you're reading mine.  Whichever it is, it's a nice thing to read, I think."


"You're crazy."  Kennedy signed the debit card slip, noting the need for a substantial online transfer to her checking account before morning.


"Well, yeah."  Carson flashed a cheeky grin.  "I'm marrying you, aren't I?"


"Touché."  Kennedy pocketed the ring box.


"Ladies, it has been a great pleasure."  Jacques kissed each of them on the cheek in turn.  "May you have a long and happy life together."


"Thank you."  Carson held his hand in both of hers.  "We'll send you an invitation to our joining ceremony."


"Absolutely," Kennedy chimed in.  She held out her arm.  "Dinner?"


"La Vista."  Carson tucked her hand in the crook of Kennedy's elbow.


"Ah.  Back to the scene of the crime."  Kennedy held the door as they both stepped out into the remaining light of evening.  "Bats afterward?"


"But of course."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
The Mexican beer was extra smooth going down, settling pleasantly in Kennedy's stomach along with her veggie fajitas.  Judging from the slightly pink tint to her cheeks, and the softening around her eyes, Carson's margarita was having a similar effect.  Or maybe it was the tequila shots they'd both done prior to dinner, toasting each other in the Branchwater Bar while they waited for their table at La Vista.  Carson had requested the same table they'd sat at on their first date, next to the windows, overlooking the downtown lights reflecting off Town Lake at dusk.


"You gonna whip those rings out any time soon?"  Carson drawled, reaching across and taking her hand.


"Patience, grasshopper."  Kennedy played with Carson's fingers, reflecting back on the first time they'd sat at that particular table.  They'd shared a moment of hand-holding back then, a moment of sympathy as Carson opened up, talking a little bit of losing her parents.  But the newness of their friendship and self-consciousness at potentially-prying eyes had won out and the moment had passed much too quickly for Kennedy's tastes.  Now -- .  Now, she smiled, they often held hands in public, neither woman thinking much, if at all, of what others might think.


"You have very elegant fingers," Carson interrupted her thoughts.  "You could be a hand model.  That ring looked so good on you."


"Thank you."  Kennedy briefly studied her own hands, which bore no jewelry.  She'd not been into high school rings, and had lost her college ring somewhere on a beach in Galveston, on a day spent with her deceased former girlfriend, Angela.  Times she rarely thought of these days.  No, these days were way too happy to allow things from the past that couldn't be changed, to dampen them.  So she let the fleeting thought of Angela drift out of her mind as quickly as it had come in.  Angela was her past.  The incredible woman before her was her present and her future; moreover, loving Carson was life-sustaining.  "You know what I'm going to like best about wearing that ring?"


"That it's already paid for?"  Carson joked.  She appeared almost shy, something that was rare anymore.


Kennedy leaned forward, taking both of her hands.  "That it represents our love for each other, and that I'll know that somewhere, even if we aren't together at the time, you're wearing one exactly like it."


"I liked the idea of matching ones, ever since you suggested it back at Lajitas.  "I like that every time I see it, I'll think of you."  She laughed lightly.  "Are we being mushy tonight, or what?"


"I don't mind being mushy over you," Kennedy admitted, looking down and brushing her thumbs across the backs of Carson's hands.  "It's like someone has given me a mega-dose of happiness pills.  It's like I can do anything -- can face anything the day throws at me, because I know at the end of  it I'm going to get to see you, and it's all that matters to me."  She looked up to see Carson's eyes fill, and then a few tears trickle down her cheeks.  "Sorry."  She reached across, dabbing at them with the corner of a napkin.


"Don't be sorry," Carson whispered, her voice quietly fierce.  "Never be sorry about making me cry like this.  I -- before I met you, my life had lost so much meaning.  I felt -- lost -- completely alone.  They say you need to be whole within yourself, that you shouldn't look to someone else to complete you.  And a part of me believes that.  But then I look at who you were, and who I was, and I guess we were two people who were doing mostly okay in our everyday lives, but I think we were both missing something vital.  Is it wrong to feel like you complete me?  That meeting you, I found a greater purpose?  Because that's how I feel."


"No."  Kennedy smiled warmly over her, catching a few more tears.  "No.  I think you are my higher purpose.  That caring for you -- ultimately that is my calling."


"Me, too."  Carson sniffled, smiling through her tears.  "That I was meant to be with you and help you be the best person you can be."


"Come on."  Kennedy dropped a hundred dollar bill on the table for their roughly fifty-dollar meal.  "Let's get out of here."  She looked outside, where it was almost dark.  "I think we missed the bats.  We might catch a few stragglers."


"That's okay."  Carson took her hand as Kennedy led her toward the Hyatt's entrance to the Town Lake Trail.  "I just want to be with your right now."


"I feel like walking."  Kennedy held the door for Carson to pass through, then followed her, falling in beside her and draping an arm across her shoulders.  Carson tucked up against her, circling her waist with one arm, and Kennedy leaned over, kissing the top of her head before they began to walk toward the First Avenue Bridge.


Carson looked up.  "You're right.  There go a few bats."


"Yep."  Kennedy looked back toward the Congress Avenue Bridge, now re-named the Ann Richards Memorial Bridge in honor of the late, great governor.  "Most of 'em fly the other way."


"Maybe their bat-dar is off."  Carson hummed the opening to the Batman theme song and giggled.


"Maybe you had too much tequila,"  Kennedy teased.


"Maybe you just wanted to get me drunk and take advantage of me."  Carson looked sidewise at her, a hint of mischief in her eyes.


"Last time I checked, getting you drunk wasn't a pre-requisite."  Kennedy received a slap to her behind, and then a squeeze to her butt-cheek, before Carson's arm settled back around her waist.  She briefly mourned the fact that home, and their bedroom, was a good forty-minute drive away.


But the night was softly warm and inviting, and Carson's scent was pleasant and even more inviting, drifting over her in a mixture of herbal shampoo, citrus body wash, a hint of Tommy Girl perfume, and deliciously-salty skin.  It was what it was, and she realized walking with Carson -- there was no place she'd rather be at that moment.  She trailed a finger playfully along the back of Carson's neck, and their eyes met.  Carson's expression was one of deep affection and thinly-veiled desire.  She laughed quietly, wondering if Carson realized that particular look would get her almost anything she wanted.


"What you laughing at?"  Carson patted her behind again.


"How surreal my life is, mostly.  And I mean that in the best of ways."  They reached the First Avenue Bridge and Kennedy steered them both off the path to a spot near the water they'd both never forget.  The sun was mostly-set, just a thin hue of pink-orange light painting the horizon across the way, and there were no University rowers out on the lake, but that was alright.  She wanted privacy, and they'd already kissed for eternal love under the bridge at sunset that first time.


"This is one of my favorite places," Carson murmured, nuzzling Kennedy's shoulder.  "I hoped so badly you'd kiss me, I didn't know what I was going to do if I was mis-reading your signals.  I remember not knowing what your intentions were, whether you just wanted to be friends, or if you were going to try to get me in bed that night, or if you would take things at a pace that I could handle."


"I'd be lying if I didn't say a part of me wanted to get you into bed.  It had been a long time since I'd been with anyone and the very human side of me wanted that so badly -- to be close to you in that way, I could hardly stand the ache inside.  And I was almost certain you wanted to be kissed, but I knew there was something special about you.  About us.  I didn’t want to compromise a promising future for a temporary thrill."  She reached into her pocket and removed the ring box.  "I'm so glad we waited as long as we did.  We had time to get to know each other and truly fall in love first, and it means so much more now, knowing nothing between us has ever been cheapened in any way."


Carson helped her open the box, and they took the rings, Carson holding Kennedy's, and Kennedy holding Carson's.  Carson looked at the one she held.  There was no seeing the etchings in the light, but she squinted at it, nonetheless.  "It's perfect, what's engraved in here."  She reached across, taking Kennedy's hand and slipping the ring over her finger once more.  Swallowing hard, she looked up into pale blue eyes that shone softly in the low light.  " 'I'm a part of you forever.'  It's exactly how I feel.  It's what I said back there at dinner.  I love being a part of your life, of supporting you.  I know you're going to do great things with your life.  I want to be by your side, Kennedy, always."


Kennedy swiped a hand across her own eyes.  "Damned tears."  She smiled and sniffled.  "Seems to be an epidemic of them tonight."  She lifted Carson's hand, kissing the palm before she placed the ring on her finger.  " 'Even in death, I'll never leave you.'  Wow, that's quite a promise, huh?  But I think it means something more.  It's like Pa said about the white buck -- us seeing him together, it's a sign our souls are bound together -- that we're one person.  So I think, maybe for people like us, the love between our spirits keeps us alive -- we never truly die.  We'll be together always, you and I."


Carson shed no tears this time, Kennedy's words and her promise settling over her like a soft, warm blanket on a cold winter evening.  Nothing could get inside and touch the emotions running so strongly under the surface.  "Are you certain you weren't a poet in another life?"


"No, that was you," Kennedy answered without a beat.  She blinked as something very familiar tickled her senses -- a feeling of déjà vu she'd not experienced since they slept together in the cave in Big Bend.


"Did you just feel --?"  Carson shook her head, at a loss.  "Whoa."


"Yeah."  Kennedy touched foreheads with her.  "I’m only going to say this once, at least tonight, because it weirds me out too much to think of it.  But I think we've been together before.  I think between the white buck, and that story of Meg and Isalba -- that painting we bought in Cozumel, and these rings -- I believe Pa wholeheartedly.  Something greater than the two of us has drawn us together."


"I always felt," Carson answered thoughtfully, "That we would have met, even if you hadn't gone to the Round-Up that night.  Somehow, somewhere, we would've found each other.  I think my heart was searching for yours my whole life."


"And mine was crying for yours."  Kennedy captured her lips in a long, soft kiss.  It was like drowning -- such moments -- her senses completely filled to overflowing with Carson -- her sweet scent, the sensation of their lips and tongues dancing together, the warm breeze flowing over her skin, feeling Carson move into her embrace, one hand at the back of Kennedy's neck, the other running lightly up and down her arm.  Carson melted against her, pressing their bodies together, as an inviting whimper rose up in Carson's throat and she deepened the kiss.


Kennedy's stomach clenched in a wave of unfettered desire, which shot to her groin in liquid heat, making her groan in pleasure that was almost painful.  She kissed her way from Carson's lips to her jaw, then to her neck, feeling and hearing Carson's breathing quicken in response.  She sought out the hem of the pale blue dress, pushing it up as she slid her hand up the back of Carson's thigh, lifting Carson's skirt just enough to slip her knee between her legs.  "Always getting me all wet in the most inconvenient places," she whispered into Carson's ear, then pressed an earlobe between her lips.


"Likewise," Carson gasped, her own hands grasping Kennedy's behind, pulling her closer.


"I want to back you against that pillar over there in the worst way," Kennedy moaned in frustration.  She slid her hand higher, seeking out soft skin beneath a pair of satin panties, and felt something thin and plastic pressed into her other hand.  "What's this?"  She backed off a few inches, making enough space between them that she could see the object.


"Hotel room key card," Carson replied.  "Before I met you at your office, I went to the Hyatt to make the dinner reservation, and then went over to the desk and got us a suite.  And before I left home, I grabbed our overnight bags.  They're already in the room, along with my suit for tomorrow.  I assume you picked yours up at the cleaners and it's in the 4Runner over there in the hotel parking lot?"


"Yes.  What about Katie?"  Kennedy tried really hard to be responsible, and re-focus her thoughts above the waistline.


"She has both our cell phones on speed-dial, and Alexis is going to stay in the other guest room tonight to take care of Katie and the animals."  Carson wrapped her arms around Kennedy's neck, brushing her entire body against her in the process.  Warm breath tickled Kennedy's cheek, and then a pair of soft lips pressed against her ear.  "So take me to bed, Stud."


"God, I love you."  Kennedy kissed her soundly one more time, then grabbed her hand, hoping no one would be in the elevator when they reached it.  A thought occurred to her.  "Damn."


"What?"


"Glass elevators."


Carson snickered.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


They entered the elevator and Carson leaned back against the glass, facing the doors as they closed.  Kennedy stood next to her, looking down as the car slowly took them to the top floor of the hotel.  Carson's hand rested on the rail and Kennedy placed hers over it, tracing Carson's new ring.  Carson looked over at her and their eyes met in silent fire.


"Longest elevator ride in history," Kennedy grumbled.  But she smiled nonetheless and reached beneath Carson's hand, tickling her palm.


"But the destination will be worth the journey."  Carson turned so they were both facing the hotel atrium.  She placed an arm around Kennedy's waist.  "It always is, with you."


She wasn't sure how they found the room, or managed to get the key card in the slot.  All she knew as one minute Kennedy was holding the door open for her, and the next minute she was pressed against it, as two wandering hands eagerly pushed her skirt up and slid up the backs of her thighs, before engulfing her ass.


"Mmmmmm."  Kennedy kissed her with renewed hunger, as her fingers anxiously tugged at the elastic waistband of her panties.  "You fond of these?"


"You are," Carson murmured between kisses.  "Tiny bit of peach satin held together with bitty strips of lace -- remember?  You gave them to me for Christmas."


"Oh."  Kennedy backed off and placed both hands on Carson's hips, as they both rocked back and forth a little.  "Guess I won't tear 'em off, then."  She laughed lightly and studied Carson's eyes, then dove in for another kiss, this time more slowly, exploring Carson's lips and mouth thoroughly.  She backed off again and kissed Carson's forehead.  "And really, I gave them to ME for Christmas."


"I know," Carson trailed a fingertip up the button placket of Kennedy's silk shirt, slowly popping buttons open one by one, before she slipped the shirt over Kennedy's shoulders and tossed it on a nearby chair.  "I unwrapped them and put them on.  Then you unwrapped me."


"Best gift under the tree," Kennedy spoke directly into her ear.  Their eyes met once more and something softened in those baby blues, passion mixing with adoration.  She reached up, cradling Carson's face in both hands, and sought out her lips again, kissing her closed-mouthed several times, then gently and slowly deepening the contact until Carson felt almost faint from the intensity.  She was vaguely aware of one hand leaving her cheek and deftly unzipping her dress, which pooled around her ankles before she was lifted up.


She wrapped her legs around Kennedy's waist as Kennedy turned, carrying her to the bed while sampling the sensitive skin of Carson's cleavage.  The world spun as Kennedy laid her across the king-sized mattress, and then Kennedy became the world, her face hovering inches above Carson's.  "I love you," Kennedy stated simply.


Carson reached up, brushing her thumb against Kennedy's face, and then across her lips, her gut clenching as Kennedy took it into her mouth and suckled it.  "Touch me, babe."  Carson wrapped a hand around the back of Kennedy's neck, pulling her even closer.  "All over," she whispered, before their lips met.


"Count on it.  Kennedy nipped at her neck, then resumed their kiss.  Carson felt the front closure of her bra come open, then skilled fingers tracing circles around her breasts.  It was divine -- Kennedy's kiss and her touch all at once, causing very nice sensations points further south.  She spread her legs and Kennedy settled between them, her weight delicious against Carson.  Carson crooked one knee and ran a foot down the back of Kennedy's leg, hearing a rewarding growl from deep in her lover's chest.


A throaty laugh escaped Carson's lips and she reached down, grasping a butt cheek and pressing herself up against Kennedy's stomach.


"Got you wet back," Kennedy murmured, then closed her lips around an aching nipple.  Wetness became a flood and Carson groaned, her breath catching as Kennedy's hand slipped between them, cupping her and stroking her through her panties.


Then those lips were on the move, kissing their way down Carson's stomach, circling her navel and giving a tug to her navel-stud.  "Oh, god," Carson yelped, her body craving something more, Kennedy's touch promising to deliver.


Kennedy stretched out next to her in the opposite direction, nuzzling her in a most intimate fashion, then licking and kissing the baby-soft skin of Carson's inner thighs.  Carson reached out, seeking contact of her own, her hands frustrated by the summer-weight wool trousers Kennedy still wore.  She stroked a bare back, finding Kennedy's bra strap and un-hooking it.


Kennedy paused, turning and flashing a sultry smile at her.  She quickly removed her own bra and the rest of her clothing, then flipped back around and shimmied down Carson's body, sliding her panties down in the process.  Creeping like a lioness, she crawled back up, hovering over Carson, Kennedy's weight braced on her own forearms.  Looking down, she offered one breast to Carson.


Carson took it into her mouth, reaching over and stroking the nipple of Kennedy's other breast with her thumb.  The resulting groan rumbled against her, as Kennedy's eyes snapped closed and her face became a study in pure pleasure.  Slowly those eyes opened and Kennedy pulled away, enough to look into Carson's eyes.  "Gotta back off, babe.  This one's about you."


Kissing Carson one more time, she slowly slipped down to the end of the bed, then dropped over the side.  Carson felt strong hands grasp her calves, then drag her down until her behind was on the edge of the mattress.  Kennedy nudged her legs further apart and knelt between them, draping Carson's legs over her shoulders.


Carson raised up on her elbows, reaching out and trying to touch Kennedy's face.  Kennedy took her hand, kissing the inside of her palm and gently suckling each finger, before she kissed each inner thigh languidly, in an almost reverent fashion.   "Ooo, on your knees.  I like it."  She smiled, managing to stroke Kennedy's head as she made her way closer and closer to where they both wanted to her to be.


Kennedy nuzzled her, then gave her the most intimate kiss of all.  She looked up, as Carson gasped.  "On my knees for you?  You bet."  She rested a cheek against Carson's thigh, brushing her skin against it.  "Don't you know by now, Carson?  I worship you."


Carson opened her mouth to speak, then sucked in a breath as Kennedy dove back in, taking her time, kissing her way slowly up one leg and then the other, stopping to lovingly explore every muscle and curve, before she reached her goal once more, touching Carson, stroking her with skilled fingers, gently opening her up.  Soft lips and a probing tongue sponged all spoken thought right out of Carson's brain, turning it to highly-sensitized mush.  Throbbing pleasure turned to aching need and she dropped back onto the bed, unable to sit up any longer.  "God," she cried out.


"Nope. Just me."  Kennedy deepened the contact, cupping a butt cheek and pulling Carson into her.


"You -- " Carson panted.  " -- always -- " More pants.  " -- know exactly --"  Kennedy's mouth worked its magic, sending her spiraling upward,  as she felt those same skilled fingers enter her, filling her and stroking her deeply inside.  " -- what to do!"  With that she imploded, her body convulsing in almost overpowering waves.  Kennedy stayed with her, kissing her and touching her, wringing every last bit of pleasure from her until Carson cried out feebly, "Uncle!"


"Uncle?"  Kennedy's voice burred in her ear and Carson slowly opened one eye to find two sparkling blue ones looking back at her.  " 'Who's your daddy?' is more like it," Kennedy effected an air of machismo.   Carson laughed, wrapping both arms and legs around Kennedy, squeezing her and feeling the playful warmth and the joy that nearly always characterized their love-making wash over them.


"You're such a goof."  Carson rolled them over a few times until Kennedy was beneath her.  She stretched out, settling herself along Kennedy's more-considerable length.  It felt so good, this skin-on-skin connection, Kennedy's breasts just beneath hers, feeling tightened nipples pressing against her ribs, and the tickle of damp curls against her thighs.  "But you're my goof."


"All yours," Kennedy whole-heartedly agreed, her eyes earnest with pent-up desire.  It was moments like this when Carson's heart filled to overflowing, seeing the vulnerability there that few people ever saw, knowing Kennedy trusted her and would give herself over to Carson, one hundred and ten percent.  It was the most awesome thing, the trust between them, giving them freedom to explore and request and play, until they now knew each other's bodies as well as their own.


Carson smiled, tilting her head and meeting Kennedy's willing lips.  Her heart ached, feeling as if there was nothing she could do to adequately express the love she was feeling.  "I wish --"  She pulled away from the kiss and hugged Kennedy tightly, burying her face into her neck, a little sob escaping her lips.


"Hey."  Gentle hands rubbed Carson's back, soothing her.  "Wish what, sweetheart?"


Carson nuzzled the upper curve of a breast, then kissed it.  "I wish I could give you -- oh -- so much more!"


"Carson."  Those long fingers traced Carson's jaw, urging her to look up.  Blue eyes turned misty and a comforting hand touched Carson's face.  "Carson, you give me everything I need, every morning, with your smile."


The words hit her in the gut in the best of ways, making her chest ache and her eyes sting.  Everything went blurry, but Carson managed to find the face she loved, kissing first a forehead, and then a nose, and then each cheek, before their lips met again in the sweetest of joinings.  "If I was a poet, then you were surely a minstrel," she whispered in Kennedy's ear.  "Over for me?"


Kennedy immediately complied and Carson straddled her, bending over and lifting her hair, pushing it aside to kiss an elegant neck and strong shoulders.  She paused at the scar above Kennedy's left shoulder blade, and for a moment saw the blood from a bullet wound.  She blinked and the image dissolved.  Leaning over, she placed a chaste kiss there, hearing Kennedy sigh softly, knowing their shared thoughts:   Precious things almost lost.  "No more of these, okay?"


"Promise," a muffled voice answered.  "You gonna kiss me all over?"


"That's the plan."  Carson made good, seeking out each rib, each muscle, making her way down to a beautifully-curved backside.  "I am going to hell for my thoughts."  She laughed lightly, urging equally-beautiful legs apart.


"Put those thoughts into action, sweetheart, so I can go with you."  Kennedy chuckled, a slightly-pained laugh.  She was getting there, but obviously not so far gone yet that she couldn't think.  Carson grinned wickedly, her aim to reduce those chuckles to mindless moans.


"Very well."  Carson bent down, licking at a butt cheek.  "Jump on in the hand basket with me, K."  She worked her own body down until she was lying between Kennedy's legs, resting her weight on one forearm.  Turnabout was fair play, and she tested her lover first with lips and then tongue, hearing the first of those desired moans.  Kissing Kennedy slowly and most intimately, she stroked one hand up, touching places once taboo, sliding the tip of her pinky inside.  Love and trust had broken down so many barriers for both of them.


Kennedy groaned deeply from her gut and her hips came off the mattress.  "Yesssss," she hissed.  Carson continued to use her lips and tongue, Kennedy's scent and taste almost intoxicating.  She felt it, that brief moment when Kennedy's entire body tensed and tightened, before she moaned loudly, her thighs pressing against Carson on each side as her climax overtook her.


Carson crawled back up and wordlessly rolled Kennedy over onto her back.  "I love you, Kennedy.  With all my heart."  She kissed her, while reaching down, running a hand slowly down Kennedy's body, around the curve of a hip and over a firm thigh.  They both knew she wasn't finished.  Seeking out liquid heat once more, she stroked her lover, bringing Kennedy back up one more time, kissing away her cries of pleasure, before they collapsed together in a tangle of damp legs and arms.


Slowly they kissed, rubbing each other's backs, hearts pounding as their breathing gradually returning to normal.  "Wow."  Carson lay on her back, Kennedy stretched out on her side next to her.  In a reversal of their usual actions, Kennedy was rubbing Carson's stomach, occasionally kissing Carson's shoulder and collarbone.


"Wow?"  Kennedy smiled.  "Not that I don't agree with you."


"I -- just -- wow."  Carson reached across, twisting long strands of dark hair around and through her fingers.  It felt silky and smooth and she played with it, collecting her thoughts.  "You are just so awesome."


"Why, thank you."  Kennedy gave her navel ring the lightest of tugs.  "I have mighty fine inspiration."


"K?"


"Hmmm?"  Kennedy leaned over, giving an experimental lick to a nipple.


"Yow!"  Carson levitated at the unexpected touch.  "Give me a minute here, please?"


"Okay, but just a minute."  Kennedy winked and relented, resuming the belly-rub.  "I love doing this when you're talking.  I can feel and hear you."


Carson giggled.  "It's why I like to be wrapped around you when you do all that moaning and groaning."


"I do not --"  Kennedy stopped, her smile sheepish.  "I do, don't I?"


"Yes, and I love hearing every bit of it."  Carson nibbled her lower lip, still seeking a question on the edge of her mind.  "When we first got into the room tonight, I figured you were going to just rip my clothes off and take me, right there against the door."


"Uh-huh?"  Kennedy nodded.  "Would that have been okay?"


"Well, sure."  Carson laughed.  "I was throbbing for you, babe.  It was what I expected.  But what we did --" she sighed dreamily.  "It was so very nice.  In every way.  You made me feel so special."


"Good."  Kennedy lifted Carson's hand, brushing her lips across the back of it.  "That's exactly what I wanted."


"But I saw something in your eyes, right before you undressed me and carried me over here." Carson was still grasping, trying to find her words.  "It was like a switch or something.  One minute you were all over me, and the next, you went all slow and soft and sweet.  What happened?"


Kennedy frowned, then slowly answered, "the realization we'd just gotten our wedding rings slapped me up beside the head, and I -- I realized I didn't want just a quick romp.  I wanted to make love to you.  It seemed like what we were doing -- this whole forever and ever thing -- deserved something more than me throwing you against the door and fucking your brains out, Carson.  At the risk of sounding crude, that's almost exactly what went through my head at that moment."


Carson digested this, rolling it around in her head.  "I guess I hadn't thought about that very much before.  The difference between fucking and making love, I mean."


"I've thought about it a lot," Kennedy responded, stroking Carson's hair.  "I've told you about my first time with my first girlfriend, Andie in college.  And you know about Angela.  With them, I made love, mostly.


"With me, you do, too," Carson interjected.


"True."  Kennedy smiled, tracing Carson's jaw with her fingertip, and then her lips, then, her nose, before she began stroking her hair again.  "Between Andie in college and Angela in Houston, I had a fuck buddy in law school.


Carson's mouth opened and just as quickly, she clicked it closed.  "Really?"  Her brain scrambled to catch up with this new information.  It wasn't disturbing, as much as it was surprising, until she remembered who Kennedy had been in college - the smokers and the tokers.


"Yep.  Does that bother you?"


"No."  Carson rolled to her side, so they were more face-to-face.  "I think the thing that surprised me most was when you told me you didn't have sex until college."


"Mmmm.  Good point, given I tried just about everything else.  But here's the thing -- Andie was special, and Angela was special, and Sarah -- she was my fuck buddy -- I'm not sure to this day what she was, but I don't think what we had was very special.  We were two law school students who got high on the weekend and then rolled around in the sack.  I learned some interesting things from her, but there was no love there.  We were relieving stress, as much as anything else.  Do you know, I never once slept with her without being under the influence of alcohol, or weed, or --"


"Or?"  Carson encouraged her, stopping short at the pain of regret in Kennedy's eyes.  Those eyes looked down, and Carson reached over, touching Kennedy's face until she looked back up.  "Save it, K, until you're sure you're ready to share.  I know who you are now, and that's all that matters to me."


Before she could think, long arms drew her into a bear hug and she felt a kiss to her head, and then a breath of air against her ear.  "Thank you.  I love you, Carson, so very, very much."  Kennedy rolled to her back until Carson was lying on top of her.  "My point in all that, is that I think what you and I have is very special.  I don't think every time is going to be this emotional, mind-blowing experience between us, like it was tonight."


"Sometimes a little slap and tickle is good, huh?"  Carson laughed lightly.  "Ow." She squirmed away from a tiny pinch to her backside.  "I said slap and tickle, not pinch.  Ow!"  Kennedy smacked her on the butt in answer.  "You are evil," Carson growled, but she couldn't help the smile on her face as she said it.


"And you have the cutest butt on the planet," Kennedy drawled in her slowest and sexiest tone of voice.  "And it distracted me."


"Honey, anytime I get half naked, you get distracted," Carson answered cheekily.


"Any time I undress you in my mind, I get distracted," Kennedy retorted back.  "I love what we do, Carson.  I love it all -- hot and heavy against the door, soft and slow on the bed.  I think for us to have a healthy love life, we need a balance of silly and serious.  I just don't ever want you to feel like there's no love in what we're doing, even if it's a quickie."


"You've never made me feel that way."  Carson leaned over, quickly kissing her.  "You said I give you what you need with my smile."  She searched Kennedy's face, seeking and finding what she needed to see there, so she could describe it.  "You give me what I need everyday, too.  You don't have to say a word.  I see it in your eyes -- there's so much love there, Kennedy.  I could never doubt you."


All that love came pouring over her, as Kennedy's face lit up in a brilliant smile.  Slowly they kissed, then Carson yelped, as a feather-light touch trailed up her side, tickling her under the arm. "Hey!" She captured the wandering hand, only to be tossed on her back and caged in by long arms and legs.


"Just seeking balance."  Kennedy sat on her, pinning her down and tickling her mercilessly.


"Hey!"  Carson squirmed and shrieked with laughter, then sighed with relief, as Kennedy's touches turned from playful to passionate once more.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Continued in Chapter 4