Page 71 of For Her Own Good

“And hey, I was thinking if you don’t have plans next weekend, maybe we could go see Jade, and you could get a little, um, demo. If you want. Maybe even a lesson?”

There’s a jostling sound I can’t quite discern and then I hear Lowry offering someone an apology.

“Warn a man before you say something like that, will you? Nearly knocked a person into a bush.”

That’s not funny, but… Okay, yeah, it’s kind of funny. Only because no one got hurt.

“Sorry, I didn’t know asking if you wanted to watch one of my kink partners spank me and maybe get in on the act yourself would be so…discombobulating.”

“Now you’re doing it on purpose. Lucky for you, I was expecting it that time.”

And I am expecting a very good time tonight and perhaps an even better one next weekend. Tad Harding can go jump in a sarlacc.

Chapter 23

Lowry

The housewe drive to doesn’t stand out in this part of Jamaica Plain. One of the grand Victorian homes that’s been split into condos and apartments, it’s well-maintained and painted a dark grey with aubergine shutters and doors. Does it matter? No, because this is where Starla’s brought me and this is where we’ll go.

Starla’s been quiet on the way here, fingers knotted together in her lap, and I’m not sure what she’s nervous about. Is she always an anticipatory bundle of nerves when she comes to see Jade? Or is it because I’m here? Is she worried I’ll be turned off by this? Is she worried I’m going to embarrass her? I might do the latter entirely by accident, but I’m almost positive I won’t be the former. I’ve had to keep my mind firmly on running through diagnosis codes to keep from being uncomfortably aroused the entire way here.

Once I’ve found a parking spot less than a block from the house, I go round to open Starla’s door and offer her a hand out. She’d said when we were discussing the details of this meet-up that, for her, going to see Jade isn’t a thing that happens solely within the few hours that she sees her. It’s a headspace she enters before the play even starts, and I can see it.

It was in the way she asked me to drive—she almost always takes the wheel if we’ll be in the city. She’s more confident in the crowded streets, and the road rage doesn’t seem to seep into her in the same way it works its tendrils into me.

It’s in the way she’s dressed as well. The weather hasn’t warmed up yet, but instead of the black nylon and down coat that goes down to her knees, she has on this very pretty blush-pink, not-exactly-peacoat. It’s not boxy enough to be a true peacoat, and it looks—I don’t know, istwirlya description you can use for coats? With big buttons and a bow at the belt and slightly puffy sleeves, it’s nothing short of darling. Of course the black beret and houndstooth gloves don’t do anything to take away from that impression either.

She clutches my hand as we walk up the sidewalk, and I’m at a loss for words. Squeezing her hand is almost always a good idea, though, so I do and she looks up at me, shy. It pokes at something in my chest. No, notsomething, I know damn well what it is. It’s my heart.

I’ve seen Starla vulnerable before. It was something I prided myself on; her trusting me enough to tell me how she was really feeling even if it was unpleasant, even if it was downright scary or embarrassing. I hope that all holds true, because Christ. Her eyes are almost impossibly wide and the way she tips her chin and a smile flits across her face is… Ach, may as well be stabbed in my chest and die right now because I’ll never see a more perfect look in all the rest of my days.

“I…” I clear my throat is what I do, because there’s something trapped in my gullet. As soon as her face falls, though, I press on, choking be damned. I can choke later. “I’m looking forward to this. Bit nervous, though.”

She laughs in a skittish way, short and edgy, like how a crystal chandelier sounds when someone slams a door. Lovely but fragile.

“Mmm, yeah, samesies.”

Despite our nerves, I feel as though there’s also a warmth flowing through us. Good intentions and a genuine…affection isn’t strong enough. I knew a long time I ago I loved Starla. From each strand of dark hair on her head all the way down to the polished nails of her sweet, small toes. That has to count for something, right?

One of the stairs creaks as we head up to the porch and the front door. It’s funny the things Americans consider very old. And sure, this house isn’t new, but it’s not exactly Elgin Cathedral or Spynie Palace, both of which you can find not so far from where I grew up.

Starla presses the bell with no hesitation, and there’s not a long delay before a figure comes down the stairs. The infamous Jade. Is she infamous, though? When Starla talks about this woman, she gets this dreamy, peaceful look on her face. Which inspires some envy on my part, I won’t lie. Does she look like that when she talks about me as well? A man can dream.

The door swings open and a woman who is nearing my height stands there, looking rather stylish in some wool trousers, a dark red sweater that clings to her, and a paisley silk scarf tied round her neck. She and my ex-wife might get their clothes at the same shops.

Except that Maeve would never look so soft. Not the way that Jade looks at Starla, like it’s a delightful surprise that she’s turned up as opposed to this being a very carefully orchestrated meeting.

“Come in, come in. It’s cold out. And you with your bare legs, what a silly girl.”

Starla blushes and I wonder if she’ll argue with Jade. Her legs aren’t bare, not technically. She’s got on tights. But Starla doesn’t say a word, just flushes, her cheeks getting pinker than her coat.

Once Jade’s herded us inside the foyer, she rests her hands on Starla’s biceps and leans down a bit so she can look her in the eye.

“Starla, darling, so good to see you. Come here.”

Obediently, Starla drops my hand with a fleeting squeeze and steps into the embrace Jade has on offer.

I am definitely not jealous, not at all, of the way Starla presses into Jade, wraps her arms around the taller woman’s waist and snuggles her head against what I can only think of as Jade’s bosom.

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