“This, I guess. Us. What we’re doing here. There are things. Going on in my mind. And I need to talk about them.”

Sarah’s face softened. “We can talk about anything, Em.”

Em. The casual use of her name stopped her momentarily. She wished she’d say it again, while looking at her just like that, little flecks of green dancing in the hazel. Stay the course, she reminded herself. Clearing her head, she concentrated firmly on her goal.

“I like you a lot.”

Sarah smiled. “I like you too.”

“But I’m having trouble seeing where we go from here. I’m not sure I can be who you would need me to be. For Grace. For you.”

Sarah took a deep breath, her eyes falling squarely on the coffee table. “I know.”

“You should run from me.”

Sarah raised her eyes to Emory’s and nodded. “I should.”

“But you’re not?”

Sarah shook her head slowly. “I can’t seem to. No matter how many arrow signs are pointing me in the opposite direction. But I could ask you the same question. Why did you invite us over today?”

She thought on this. “Because I care about you more than I ever expected to, and I was worried about you, and I wanted to see you. All of those things.”

Sarah lifted one shoulder. “That should count for something.”

She had a point. “It does. But there’s so much more. Have you ever dated a woman?”

Sarah shook her head. “No.”

“Have you been attracted to women before?”

“No.”

“But you’re attracted to me?”

Sarah smiled. “I can say most certainly, yes.”

“So do you consider yourself bisexual?”

Sarah sighed. “Why don’t you sit down so we can actually talk about this? Unless you prefer the inquisition you’ve got going here. I’d like to do my best to explain.”

Emory sat, but this time on the opposite end of the couch.

Sarah took a deep breath. “My whole life, I’ve dated men. That’s just how things were. ‘Pick a man and get married’ was the message I was sent from the time I was little. I never considered the fact that there was another option for me. I’ve never personally known anyone who’s gay.”

“Until now.”

“Until now.” Sarah nervously took the last swallow of wine from her glass. “So to answer your question, no, I’ve never noticed an attraction to women before this. Maybe this part of me has been there the whole time, just waiting for me to notice it. I don’t know.” She slid closer to Emory on the couch. “What I do know, Emory, is that since I’ve met you, I feel like so many things I thought I knew about myself have gone straight out the window. I don’t have all the answers because I’m still figuring them out myself.” Emory didn’t respond. Suddenly, she was very interested in the plastic grooves of her bottled water. “Please say something. Tell me what you’re thinking even if it’s that you want me to leave.”

Emory lifted those sky blue eyes and the raw emotion Sarah saw staring back at her was enough to steal her next breath. “I’m thinking that I don’t want to be your experiment in sexuality or your short-lived foray into the land of lesbian before you wake up and realize this isn’t what you’d envisioned for yourself or your daughter. The perfect picket fence is a lot to undo. I’m thinking I don’t want to disappoint you down the road when you realize that I’m not family material. Because I’m probably not. I don’t know anything about kids and what if I—” She turned her head away then.

Something in Emory’s words struck a chord with Sarah, and she moved until she sat alongside her, gently placing a hand on her cheek and forcing Emory to look her in the eye. “You’re a good person, Emory. I know that or I wouldn’t have you around Grace. I would never do anything on a whim where she was concerned. If nothing else, believe that.”

“I do,” Emory whispered, giving in. “I love that you put her first. You’re a wonderful mother. I think my problem is that I don’t have a clear idea of where we’re headed.”

Sarah offered a small smile. “And the lack of control is killing you.”

Emory nodded.

“I think we’re complicated. But I don’t think we have to have it all figured out. Here’s my proposition. Let’s not make each other any grand promises. I like spending time with you. Let’s see where that goes.”

Emory nodded. “So, casual?”

“Casual.”

“Okay.”

“Emory?” Sarah whispered back.

“Yes?”

“If you don’t kiss me soon, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Emory stared at her wide-eyed, a soft smile forming on her lips. With slow determination, she ran her fingers through Sarah’s hair, lifting it gently away from her face and letting it fall. She cradled Sarah’s face in her hands and moved in slowly, brushing Sarah’s lips ever so lightly with her own, once, twice, and deepening the kiss on the third go-round. Jesus, her brain staggered at the feel of Sarah’s lips on hers, the faint smell of her shampoo, the way her skin felt under Sarah’s touch. Emory tentatively swiped Sarah’s lower lip with her tongue, encouraged when Sarah parted her lips in response.

Sarah felt lightheaded. She melted as she moved closer into Emory and began to kiss her back with an unfamiliar ferocity. Driven by need, she slipped her hands under the hem of Emory’s T-shirt, moving her nails slowly over the skin of her lower back. Before she knew it, they’d sunken into each other and lay on their sides, pressed hip to chest. Sarah was having trouble forming a coherent thought as the heat between them seemed to grow with each passing moment. She was dizzy with desire and knew only one thing, she needed more of this, now.

Emory trailed her lips along Sarah’s chin and down the column of her neck stopping there to suck ever so gently. Sarah trembled in her arms, aching, throbbing even, and pulled Emory closer still. Out of sheer desperate need to touch her, Sarah inserted a hand between them to palm Emory’s breast through her T-shirt, causing Emory to let out strangled moan of pleasure. Perhaps it was the sound of her own voice breaking through, but Emory went still alongside her. In that moment, Sarah became very aware of their surroundings and how incredibly impractical they were. Damn it. Emory took a shuddering breath and pulled her lips away. “We have to stop,” she panted in Sarah’s ear.

Sarah turned her head and blinked back at her, saying nothing. She wanted to say something; she tried to say something, but found herself in the depths of an Emory-induced fog and her faculties strangely weren’t what they should be.

Emory sat up, and with a gentle hand, eased Sarah up with her. Emory faced her, tenderly tracing the line of her jaw as she spoke. “Your daughter’s upstairs, and while I’d like nothing more than to continue what we’ve started here, I don’t want to rush you.” And then with a mumbled, “Oh, God,” she captured Sarah’s mouth for a final sensuous, toe-curling kiss. “Sorry, momentary lapse. Had to do that one more time.”

Sarah caught Emory’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.” This got a smile. “And while you’re probably right about the timing, you’re not off the hook that easily.”

“Trust me when I say I don’t want to be off the hook.”

“Good, because that,” Sarah gestured to the couch with her head, “was…”

“I know,” Emory finished, because she did know. Hell, she knew.

They sat there, staring at each other, and Emory smiled proudly at this new level of intimacy between them.

Sarah broke the trance. “I should get Grace.”

Emory stood. “It’s the second door down the hall. I’ll find her backpack.”

The sight of Sarah carrying her sleeping child, more than half her own size was entirely precious. “Do you need some help?” Emory whispered. “Do you want me to take her?”

“Nope. I’m a pro. Check out the mommy muscles.”

“Right.” Emory raced around to open the door for Sarah and followed her out to the car. Sarah gently laid Grace in the backseat, taking extra care to buckle her in without waking her. “Wow, she sleeps through a lot.”