"Trust me, I will not catch a fish."
"Don't be so sure. I always catch fish here off the pier," Carrie said and Jill watched in
revulsion as she weaved the nasty worm around the hook.
"That has got to be one of the grossest things I've seen in awhile," Jill murmured.
"You never went fishing as a kid?"
Jill shook her head. "City girl."
"Ah. Well, my grandfather loved it. Whenever I'd go stay with them, he'd take me out
fishing. I was the only grandkid for the longest time so it was just me and him."
"Your boys?"
Carrie shook her head. "No. They never seemed to care for it. And part of that is James.
When they were little, he never took the time to do things like that with them." She
handed Jill the pole. "Now, just gently toss the line out."
"And if the yellow thing goes under, that's good, right?"
Carrie laughed. "Bobber. And yeah, that's good. Unless, of course, you're the fish," she
added.
Jill sat quietly, patiently watching the bobber as it floated harmlessly on the water, part
of her wishing the damn thing would go under so she could say she caught a fish. Of course
the sane part of her prayed for no such thing. But a few minutes later when Carrie's
bobber plunged under water, Jill stared excitedly as Carrie gripped the pole with both
hands and lifted it up. Out of the water came what Jill assumed was a nice-sized fish, but
before Carrie could get a net under it, the fish flipped in the air and dove back into the
water.
"Oh, no," she said. "He was right there."
"Yeah. He was a good one too," Carrie said. Then she pointed at Jill's own line. "Look. See
how it's moving? You probably have a perch or something nibbling at the worm."
Jill tensed, her grip tightening on the pole. "What does that mean?" But before Carrie
could answer, her yellow bobber disappeared. "Oh my God!"
"Pull it up, pull it up," Carrie said as she stood beside her. "Easy."
But Jill jerked the line, sending her sprawling backward as the fish was flung over their
heads and behind them. Carrie grabbed the line, holding the fish off the ground, a huge
grin on her face.
"See? I told you you'd catch something."
Jill stared at the tiny fish then looked at Carrie. "Now what?"
Carrie moved the fish closer. "Now you take it off the hook."
Jill's eyes widened and she shook her head. "No way."
"But that's part of fishing, my dear. You catch something, you take it off the hook."
"Okay, not that I have anything against fish—I prefer them grilled—but I'm not touching
that slimy little thing."
"And so you want me to?"
"Uh-huh," Jill nodded.
"You want to at least watch?"
"Nope."
But she did, staring as Carrie wrapped a hand around the fish to hold him still, then with
the other hand, pulled and twisted the hook, trying to dislodge it.
"You're hurting him, aren't you?"
"I'll tell you what every fisherman would tell you. They don't feel a thing." Then she
grinned. "I'm sure it hurts less than if you grilled him."
Finally the fish was free and Carrie dropped the line, walking slowly to the edge of the
pier, kneeling down and gently placing the fish back in the water. Jill watched in fascination
as the tiny fish flipped his tail and swam away.
"Oh, that was so sweet," she said seriously. "You didn't hurt him. That's why I love you—"
she stopped, her eyes wide. She slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that
like... well, I didn't mean—"
Carrie walked closer, her eyes pinning Jill.
"You love me?" she whispered.
Jill swallowed nervously, her mind racing. "I—I—"
Carrie tilted her head but said nothing, waiting.
Jill shrugged. "Is that what this is, Carrie?" Jill asked quietly. "Is this love?"
"We both know, don't we?" Carrie took her hands, holding them tight. "We're... we're
connected somehow. It's beyond friendship, beyond this physical attraction we have. And
Jill, it's so, so different than what we both have now. Isn't it?" She bent closer, lightly
brushing Jill's lips with her own. "I can't explain it any more than you can." She took Jill's
hand and placed it over her heart. "But I know it. I feel it."
"Yes." Jill closed her eyes briefly. "Yes, I feel it."
"Is it love?"
Jill nodded, her smile soft, sure. "Yes. Yes it is."
And she didn't hesitate the slightest bit when Carrie pulled on her hand, leading her up the
walk and to the cottage. They both tugged at clothing, dropping it where they may. But it
wasn't the bedroom Carrie pulled her into. It was the bathroom, with its bright red walls
and huge walk-in shower.
"Gardening and fish," Carrie reminded her as she turned the water on full blast.
"Wouldn't have cared," Jill murmured as she pulled Carrie into the shower with her, wet
skin sliding together as they embraced. Jill tasted the hint of wine on Carrie's tongue as
she drew it into her mouth. Her hands wouldn't still as they moved across Carrie's skin,
sliding along her spine to cup her buttocks and pull her flush against her. Carrie's hands,
full of liquid soap, moved between them, lightly caressing Jill's breasts with soapy bubbles
before moving lower. Jill's legs parted, an audible gasp left her when Carrie's fingers
touched her. Their eyes held, fused together by a passion neither could explain. Jill's
mouth opened as she struggled to draw breath, Carrie's fingers were relentless as they
moved against her.
Jill's knees weakened and she braced herself, both arms spread out, holding herself
upright against the shower walls as Carrie's mouth moved to her breast, her tongue hard
against her nipple.
"I love when you do that," Jill whispered.
Carrie raised her head, her pale blue eyes dark with desire, her short salt-and-pepper hair
damp from the spray. Her hands stilled, pulling away before grasping Jill's hips and turning
her around. Carrie came up behind her, pressing hard against her buttocks as her hands
reached around Jill to pull her firmly against her.
Jill moaned, feeling Carrie's breasts pressed against her back. Carrie's hands moved lower,
spreading Jill's thighs again, her fingers moving leisurely through her wetness, brushing
against her clit, causing Jill to groan deep in her throat. Her hips moved, rocking slowly,
feeling the brush of Carrie's fingers as she pitched against her.
"Please," she whimpered.
Carrie bit down gently on her shoulder, her own hips rocking, moving in rhythm with Jill.
"Slowly," Carrie whispered into her ear.
And they did, their bodies moving as one, Jill arching forward to feel the delicious brush of
Carrie's fingers against her hot center then back, meeting Carrie's thrust as Carrie ground
against her. Slowly, slowly, then—as their breathing grew ragged—their motions increased,
their hips working together, moving in unison, faster and faster, harder and harder until
Jill was rocking back, loving the feel of Carrie as she pounded against her, loving the thrill
of their dance, the tease of Carrie's fingers, the hot desire that shot through her with
each stroke.
"Oh, God, Carrie... don't stop," Jill begged. "Don't stop, don't stop," she panted as their
hips moved ferociously against each other. With eyes squeezed shut... that moment, that
tiny moment between exhilaration and ecstasy, that one moment where everything stops...