WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
the kitchen, Dev had worn a shirt. Now the smooth expanse of muscle and skin
shimmered and called to her. Leslie closed her eyes and didn’t open them again
until she felt Dev shift around on the sleeping bag.
“I can’t get my pants on in here unless you get off the bag and give me a little
room,” Leslie said, feeling ridiculously like a mummy.
Dev, in a dry shirt and jeans, grinned. “I can’t go very far, but I’ll try.” She got
to her knees and straddled the sleeping bag. “That’s about it.”
“Great,” Leslie muttered, twisting around in the bag, rocking against the inside of
Dev’s thighs before ? nally managing to knee her soundly in the crotch.
“Omph,” Dev grunted. “Glad you don’t have much range of motion in there.
Could be dangerous out here.”
Leslie couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Shut up, Devon, and get in here.”
Dev stared. “What?”
“What was your plan?” Leslie inquired evenly. “That I should sleep in the
sleeping bag, all nice and cozy, while you lie on the outside and freeze?”
“Well, I hadn’t exactly intended the freezing part.”
“Just get in here.” Leslie pulled back the ? ap and turned on her side to give Dev
as much room as possible. “Do you think the roof will hold up in this rain?”
The torrent outside continued and gave no indication of letting up.
“It’s good gear. We ought to stay dry.” Dev turned out the lantern and then
inched her way down into the sleeping bag, trying not to slide her body along
Leslie’s. When she was all the way in, they faced one another awkwardly with
nowhere to comfortably place their knees and elbows. Dev blew out a breath.
“The only way this is going to work is if one of us lies on her back and the other
sleeps half on top. So, top or bottom?”
Leslie couldn’t see Dev’s face in the dark, but she thought she heard amusement
in her tone. Tightly, she said, “Top.”
“Works for me.” Dev curved one arm behind Leslie’s neck and shoulders,
settled onto her back, and pulled Leslie down into the curve of her body.
Leslie’s head nestled on her shoulder, with Leslie’s torso
• 155 •
RADCLY fFE
and one leg partially on top of her body. Dev took a minute to adjust to the
unfamiliar and yet completely natural feel of Leslie lying in her arms. Then she
whispered, “Okay?”
“Perfect,” Leslie said sarcastically. She was fairly certain that Dev didn’t realize
just how much she meant exactly what she said.
• 156 •
WHEN DREAMS TREMBLE
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Are you sleeping?” Leslie whispered.
“No.” Dev shifted carefully and resettled Leslie’s head against her shoulder. She
didn’t feel tired, and even if she were, she doubted she would sleep. Being
cocooned with Leslie had ramped her every sense to high alert. The smell of
Leslie’s hair, the tickle of Leslie’s breath against her neck, the soft weight of
Leslie’s breasts molded to her side—Dev felt as if she were underwater again,
only this time she was immersed in Leslie, and drowning was a welcome
pleasure. Her body was vibrating, and she wondered why Leslie couldn’t feel it.
“Cold?” Leslie unconsciously pressed closer, wrapping an arm around Dev’s
middle.
“No. You?”
“Uh-uh. Toasty.” Leslie lay angled onto Dev’s left side, her cheek against Dev’s
chest, above her heart. Dev’s heartbeat, slow and steady, was a soothing
counterpoint to the ? urry of rain on the tent. Leslie had never been this intimate
with a friend, and rarely with a lover. She and Rachel barely had time to have
sex. They weren’t into lounging in bed.
Dev’s body was solid, heavier than Rachel’s; her hand where it rested lightly on
Leslie’s back was larger, her legs thicker with muscle. Leslie ? ushed with a
body memory of Dev kissing her on the bench by the lake, the weight of her
pinning her down, Dev’s mouth on her bare stomach, moving lower. Oh, God,
don’t go there. Not with her so close.
Leslie focused on something safer—the storm. “It’s still coming down out
there.”
“We’re probably in for another twelve hou—”
• 157 •
RADCLY fFE
Somewhere close, very close, a crack like a ri? e shot was followed by a thud
that shook the ground beneath them. Leslie ? inched and, unconsciously trying
to shield Dev, ? ung her arm over Dev’s face at the same time as Dev pulled
Leslie’s head into the protective curve of her neck. After long tense seconds,
Leslie started to breathe again.
“I guess if you hear it, it didn’t fall on you,” Leslie murmured.
Her heart was pounding, but she sensed none of the rapid irregularity that
usually preceded one of her light-headed episodes. She was just plain damn
scared. “I should’ve gotten to you sooner. We’re like sitting ducks out here.”
Dev laughed. “The ducks are doing a lot better than we are right now. Besides,
when we talked this morning everything was calm and clear.” She rested her
cheek against the top of Leslie’s head. “You came as soon as you could, and
you shouldn’t have come at all.”
Leslie poked Dev in the stomach. “Don’t start that again. I didn’t do anything
you wouldn’t have done.”
“Actually, you did,” Dev said. “I couldn’t have gotten that boat this far. I’m not
that good.”
Pleased, Leslie traced her ? ngertips along the open collar of Dev’s shirt, just
skimming the warm skin beneath. “I practically grew up around boats. I’ve been
piloting one since I was tall enough to see over the steering wheel. When I was
younger, I loved the speed.”
“Yeah, I seem to recall that while you were tearing up the water, I was tearing
up the road on my bike.”
Leslie heard a wistful note in her voice. “Do you ride anymore?”
“No, the road shock really plays hell with my hip.”
“I didn’t realize it was a problem now,” Leslie said quietly. She knew Dev had
been badly injured, but she didn’t know the precise extent. How could she?
She’d never tried to ? nd out back then, and hadn’t asked recently. Still
blocking it out, still running. God, what a coward. “You don’t limp. I never
realized it still bothered you.”
“It doesn’t, most of the time. Sometimes when I’m cold or stiff, my leg aches
but—”
