• 67 •
RADCLY fFE
clothes, and lay down on the bed. The room had cooled, but her body was too
warm even for the light cotton sheet. She closed her eyes and prayed she
wouldn’t dream.
Fifty yards away, Leslie sat on the side of her bed, still fully dressed, and
pressed Rachel’s number on the speed dial. She wasn’t surprised when her call
was directed to voicemail. She closed her eyes and tried to conjure Rachel’s
face. It was dif? cult.
“Rach, hi, it’s me. I’m here.” She hesitated, trying to remember Rachel’s
schedule. Was it really just a day since they’d talked?
“I’m sure you nailed the closing. Have a drink for me to celebrate.”
She paused again, aware of the silence stretching between them, far deeper than
just the seconds ticking away. She took a breath. “I miss you.”
She wanted that to be true and hoped that the reason it felt like a lie was just
because she was so damn tired. Without even bothering to undress, she kicked
off her shoes and curled up on the bed. When she closed her eyes, she heard
the echo of long-ago laughter on the wind.
• 68 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
CHAPTER EIGHT
You’re up early,” Eileen Harris said when Leslie poked her head into the
kitchen a little after six the next morning.
“Not really,” Leslie said. “I’m usually in the of? ce by now. Do I smell coffee?”
Eileen pulled a tray of scones from the oven and inclined her head toward an
insulated carafe on a nearby counter. “If you wouldn’t mind, carry that out into
the dining room for the guests. I’ll put on another pot for us.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
When Leslie returned, her mother slid a plate with a steaming scone onto the
scarred wooden kitchen table and handed her a mug of coffee. “Still like
blueberry?”
“Yes,” Leslie said, settling at the table with her coffee. She broke open the
pastry and reached for the butter. “But they never taste the same from the
bakery.”
Eileen smiled. “I thought you might sleep in, seeing how you’re on vacation.
Going ? shing? Your dad’s down at the dock.”
“I am, but not that kind. I’m going out with Dev while she collects some
samples.”
“Really,” Eileen said carefully. “You two seem to have hit it off. I didn’t realize
you knew each other.”
“She was a year behind me in school. Her parents ran the convenience store in
Diamond Point.”
“Weber’s. Of course, I remember them, but for some reason, I don’t remember
her. I thought I knew all your friends.”
“She wasn’t part of that crowd,” Leslie said.
• 69 •
RADCLY fFE
“We’re just going to hang out down at the boathouse,” Leslie said, watching
Dev stow her gear in her motorcycle bag. The sounds of car engines revving and
friends shouting to one another surrounded them.
“Just come for a while. It’s just girls.”
Dev shook her head. “I don’t think so, Les. I should get home. My parents will
probably need me in the store.”
“It’s still early. Just for an hour,” Leslie wheedled. For some reason, she really
wanted Dev to come to her house after school. It was hard to duck her other
friends all the time, and sometimes days would go by before she could see Dev
alone for a walk or for a few private minutes just to talk. In a couple of weeks,
she’d be graduating and summer would start. Dev would be working in the store
more and she’d be helping her parents at the lodge. It might be even harder to
see her then. If Dev would only socialize with the rest of Leslie’s friends, Leslie
could see her more. She missed her when she didn’t see her.
“Please, Dev.”
“Come on, Les. You’ll probably all be sitting around talking about makeup or
guys.”
“I promise I won’t mention Mike once within your hearing.” When Dev’s
expression tightened and she looked away, Leslie felt a surge of alarm. Dev was
so sensitive, and it was so hard to tell sometimes what she’d said wrong. She
hurried on, wanting to make Dev smile again. “I promise. We’ll play some pool
or something.”
Dev shot her a look. “Since when?”
“Hey!” Leslie grinned and slapped Dev’s arm. “I can play. I’m damn good at
it.”
Laughing, Dev caught Leslie’s wrist, and when Leslie took another playful swing
at her with her free hand, she caught that one too. “And what will we do after I
beat you in ten minutes?”
“Oh, you think?” Leslie gave Dev a teasing shove, and when Dev stumbled
back in surprise, still holding Leslie’s wrists, Leslie lost her balance too and fell
into her. They ended up in a tangle, half sprawled over the wide tank of Dev’s
motorcycle, Dev on the bottom with Leslie’s stomach and thighs pressed against
her, Leslie’s hands on Dev’s shoulders. Their faces were inches apart. Leslie
could feel Dev breathing hard under her, as if she’d been running for a long time.
Dev was only an inch or so shorter than Mike, and her body felt nearly as
• 70 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
hard, except where her small breasts just grazed Leslie’s. Leslie felt the tingling
again, like she had the week before when she’d ridden on the back of Dev’s
motorcycle, their bodies pressed close together. Except she wasn’t nervous this
time. This was Dev, and she had nothing to fear.
So close like this, she could see that Dev’s eyes were more green today,
probably because the sunlight slanted into them, making them glow.
Leslie watched, fascinated, as Dev’s pupils widened and her lips parted
soundlessly. She felt hands skim her waist.
“You ought to get up, Les,” Dev said unsteadily, “before we tip the bike over.”
Leslie didn’t want to move. Her breathing had speeded up, and her heart
seemed to race at the same pace as the pulse that hammered along Dev’s
tanned neck. The May sunshine warmed the backs of her bare legs, but she was
warmer still inside. Lazy and liquid and warm, like sugar bubbling on the stove.
Beneath her, Dev shivered. “Dev.
What—?”
