Chapter One

The heat from the ancient radiator clanked and hissed beneath the narrow window and filled Casey Tanner’s new apartment like a fog. Clad only in navy-blue boxer shorts and a sports bra, she stretched out on her battered iron bed, trying not to melt in her sweat. Somebody knocked on her door. Since her bed had been moved to the living room while she was redecorating the bedroom, Casey didn’t have to move. “Come in,” she called, and looked up to see her best friend enter and close the door behind her.

Neatly dressed in a yellow flowered dress that stopped just short of midthigh and afforded a view of spectacular legs, Rebecca glanced at her, then around, and shook her head. “You know, it is not a good idea to leave your door unlocked in this neighborhood when you’re lying there practically naked. Extremely impractical. What if I had been a thief or a robber?”

“Do robbers usually knock?” Casey asked as she sat up.

“Foolish. You always were foolish. There’s no reason for this. Why you moved into this apartment is still beyond me.” Rebecca made a face as she took in the water-stained wallpaper peeling at the corners and the chipped floor tile. The musty scent of old wood and decades of cooking hung in the air. “This is abysmal. Most people that go through a midlife crisis take up with a younger woman and buy themselves a flashy car or a new haircut. But this…” She waved vaguely to indicate the entire space, then critically looked Casey up and down as she stood up. Her eyes lingered on the pink scar that dimpled the otherwise perfect cream skin on her side. “I think you’ve lost more weight. That can’t be good. And why is it so bloody hot in here?” She fanned herself.

“I lost weight because I ate nothing but hospital food for three months. And I’m too young to be going through a midlife crisis. I have to reach midlife first. I have two years left. And it’s hot because the thermostat is stuck at ninety-five and I’m waiting for them to come fix it.” Barefooted, Casey padded over to the tiny kitchen, which was the size of a large closet, and opened the refrigerator door. “Want a beer?”

“Sure. I asked Jason to pick me up in a few minutes, so I’ve got time to kill.” Rebecca sat down on the only chair not covered with paint and fabric samples and pushed a long wave of blond hair from her face.

She was, in Casey’s estimation, the most spectacular-looking woman she had ever met. The fact that they had been best friends since they were four had gone a long way toward easing her impact on Casey and making her completely immune to Rebecca’s looks.

“Did my mother call you?” Casey asked from the kitchen.

“She might have suggested that I pop in to see how you were doing.”

“Might have?”

“Hell, if you’d answered your damn phone, I’d be having a pedicure right about now.”

Casey grinned at her.

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed as she considered her friend. “How are you by the way?” she asked.

“Fine.”

“Liar.” This was said softly.

Casey grimaced at her. “I have good days, and I have bad days.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No offense but no. I want a distraction from everything. I’m sick and tired of myself.” She waved around the room. “It explains this.”

Half listening, Rebecca grabbed a paint sample from the floor. “How about this one?” The exercise had been going on for a week. When Casey was discharged from the hospital after being shot while on duty, she decided to move to a new apartment. Away from the memories of her failure. She had also decided to redo the apartment to keep the voices in her head away. Rebecca had offered to help, but neither of them could quite agree on what that help should be.

“Fine with me. It’s white.”

“It’s not white, it’s linen,” Rebecca replied, her tone prim.

Casey looked unconvinced as she looked at the paint chips fanned out around her on the floor. Casey took one. “And this one is…?”

“That’s eggshell.”

Casey pursed her lips, then put the sample with the others. “That’s just another word for white.”

Exasperated, Rebecca threw up her hands. “Oh, for God’s sake. I still don’t understand why you want to paint your entire place white.”

“It’s clean, it’s fresh, and it goes with everything. Besides, according to you, I’m not painting it white, I’m painting it linen and eggshell.”

“You have got to start adding color to this apartment.”

Arguing with Rebecca was pointless. Casey gave up. “Fine. I’m going back to the hardware store to look for something other than white. Happy now?”

“I am.” Rebecca smirked. “So, I’ve been thinking…”

“About?”

“After my last hot yoga class yesterday, while we were all changing, everyone started talking about their past sexual adventures.”

Casey raised a brow. “That gives a whole new meaning to the term hot yoga.”

Rebecca ignored the comment and continued, “They were talking about all the different ways they experimented.”

Accustomed to Rebecca’s wandering way of thinking, Casey decided to wait her out before asking the obvious question: “So?” She twisted the cap off a beer and wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead with her index finger.

“I want you to kiss me,” Rebecca said just as Casey took a long gulp.

The beer went down the wrong way and Casey started to cough and wheeze. Once she had regained her breath, she stared at her. “What?”

“I said, I want you to kiss me. On the lips. The way you would kiss a lover. I want to know what it feels like to kiss a woman.”

Trying hard to ignore her, Casey pressed the cool bottle against her forehead and silently shook her head. “I’m suffering from heatstroke. Maybe I’ll go take a shower.”

“Casey, I mean it. Everyone in my class but one has kissed a woman at least once. Guess who the but one was?”

“You.”

“Me.”

Casey shook her head again. “Well, I’m not the one to experiment with, so forget it.”

“Why won’t you kiss me? Don’t you want to?”

“Hell no! Are you insane? Why don’t you try kissing one of your yoga ladies?”

“I can’t. What if she falls for me?”

Casey gave her friend a hard stare. “After one kiss? Yeah, that’s a real dilemma.”

Rebecca pouted. “The least you can do as my best friend is kiss me once.”

“The least I can do as your best friend is tell you, ‘Not in this lifetime and even beyond.’”

“I’ve often had fantasies about women.”

Casey looked briefly horrified, then rolled her eyes. “That means nothing. Ninety percent of straight women have fantasies about other women. It doesn’t mean that they would do it with women. That’s why it’s called a fantasy.”

“I don’t care. I want you to kiss me.”

Rebecca’s chin set in a familiar stubborn line that had Casey sighing. “Are you deaf? I said no. It would be like kissing my sister, if I had one. It could ruin sex for me for years. Not to mention the years I would need to spend in therapy. So, no.” Their eyes met. Something flickered in Rebecca’s eyes that made Casey’s narrow. “What are you up to?”

Rebecca moved, and before Casey could do anything, Rebecca’s lips were on hers and pressed there for a second. Casey’s eyes widened in shock and met Rebecca’s equally surprised ones.

“Oh, it’s so soft,” Rebecca said when she pulled away. “And you are right—it is like kissing my sister.”

“Yuck.” Casey started to pace. “Fuck. Yuck. I can’t believe you just did that. I’m going to have nightmares for days.”

Rebecca grinned. “Relax. You haven’t converted me. If you kiss all of your women like that, it’s no wonder your relationships never last beyond foreplay.”

Casey turned to her with a growl. “There are days…”

“Absolutely.” There was a pause as Rebecca glanced at her. “Speaking of relationships, I hear that Melanie got engaged.”

Casey frowned at her. “So?”

“So? Have you talked to her at all?”

Casey resumed her pacing. “No and I have no plans to.”

Rebecca’s pursed her lips. “Still mad, I see.”

“Not mad. I don’t care to revisit the past.”

“Mmm…”

Casey’s eyes narrowed. “What? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Melanie, who up until a year ago was the one, is getting engaged to the slut she was cheating on you with. That’s all I’m thinking.”

“Well, don’t waste your energy thinking anything. I was over her a long time ago. Besides, I’ve been busy not dying so…”

Rebecca didn’t look convinced. “I still think you should have let me poison her. My Great Aunt Maggie has all kinds of recipes. She believes she’s a witch, you know.”

“Maybe next time.” Casey was touched by Rebecca’s concern.

“Right.” Rebecca stood up as she heard a knock on the door. “That must be Jason.”

“Rebecca?”

Rebecca turned to look at her.

“What I want is what you and Jason have. Melanie was not that. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“You’d think.” Rebecca crossed to the door, opened it, and smiled at the tall, good-looking dark-haired man in the doorway. He flashed dimples as he smiled at them.

“Hello, ladies.”

“Hi, honey. Casey kissed me.”

Casey went red. “Rebecca!”

“She did?” Jason looked briefly interested as he leaned one shoulder against the door.

“No, I did not. She kissed me.” Casey reached for a T-shirt and pulled it on over her head.

“I didn’t want to be the only one in my yoga class not to have kissed a woman,” Rebecca explained.

He nodded as if it all made sense. “Of course. So, tell me more about this kiss. Slowly,” Jason drawled, as his amused blue eyes met Casey’s.

She shook her head at the both of them. “Your wife is a menace and should not be left alone. Take her home before she does any more damage.”

“Want to kiss me goodbye?” Rebecca teased as she followed her husband to the door.

Casey’s eyes narrowed. “No, but I do want to hurt you.”

“And answer your damn phone. Your mother has a habit of calling me before six.” With that Rebecca was gone.