Just a Touch Away Read online

  “They wrote about Daphne DeMonet and Eleanor Burnett’s relationship.”

  Lindsey appeared surprised that Cloe knew them.

  “I liked Parker’s biography of DeMonet,” Cloe said, “but I absolutely loved the book she wrote with Hampton about their months’ long visits to interview Burnett and the book that grew out of those interviews. It read like a romance novel.”

  “Hampton did the research for Joanne Addison on her biography of DeMonet, but you’re right, An Everlasting Love that she co-wrote with Parker really stuck with me. They’ve said in subsequent interviews how much Burnett influenced their getting back together.”

  “I don’t know how many times I’ve reread An Everlasting Love.” Cloe clapped her hands in excitement. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll ask my brother to get the tickets at the university. The lecture is at 7:30. I’ll pick you up at 5:00, and we’ll eat in Bloomington. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect.”

  They shared another kiss. Cloe gave Fred a quick pet and headed for her truck. She put her messenger bag in the back and got into the driver’s seat. With one last wave to Lindsey, she backed onto the road.

  * * *

  Lindsey shut the door and leaned her forehead onto the cool wood. Fred sat down beside her and pawed her leg. She straightened suddenly and pounded the door in glee. Then she did a Rocky Balboa sparring move and shuffled across the living room floor. Fred yipped and jumped on her as she feinted left and right. She raised her fists over her head and whooped.

  “We made love, Fred! We made love! And she reeeally liked it!” After a few more shuffles and shadow boxing, she collapsed onto the couch. Fred sprang up on the cushion beside her and licked her face. She ruffled his ears. “If you tell Cloe about that little display, no more treats for you for two weeks.” His ears and tail drooped, and he ducked his head. “Oh, please. Like I’d ever do that to you.” She kissed the top of his head and patted his side. “Still,” she whispered into his ear, “let’s keep this between us, okay?”

  * * *

  Cloe set up her easel and started working on the next pages. She’d been engrossed for about an hour when a knock sounded at the front door. She mumbled, “Here we go,” and wiped off her hands with a rag. She opened the door and wasn’t surprised to find her mother standing there with a big grin.

  “Well?” Fiona said.

  Cloe waved her in and motioned at the island. “Take a seat. I know you’re dying to get a report.” She went to the cabinet and pulled down two mugs. “Tea?”

  “Yes, yes, but you know what I want to hear about.”

  Cloe ignored her hint, for the moment at least. “Old fashioned or microwave?”

  “Microwave.” Her mom wiggled in her seat. “Come on, Cloe.”

  Cloe hid a smile as she popped the mugs of water into the microwave. She set the timer then turned around, crossed her arms against her chest, and leaned back on the counter. Now, she couldn’t keep the full grin from creasing her lips.

  “That good, huh?”

  The timer dinged. She carried over the mugs and returned for her stash of tea bags. “I’ll let you pick what you want.” She chose chamomile while her mother picked out Earl Grey. They both took time dunking their tea bags, although her mother was a little more demonstrative in her action. Cloe could tell she was about to burst in her impatience.

  Cloe sat back and sighed as she let her tea seep. “It was amazing, Mom.” She stared up at the ceiling to try to come up with a description that captured the most unbelievable night of her life. “I imagined how it might be. All this time, you know?” She met her mother’s gaze. “But nothing compared to the way it was. Lindsey was gentle and caring and so, so patient with me.” She hugged herself as she became overwhelmed with emotion. She didn’t realize she was crying until a tear trickled from her eye.

  Fiona cupped her cheek and wiped the moisture away with her thumb. “It sounds like the waiting was well worth it.”

  “Maybe I’m going too fast with this, but I think she’s the one.”

  “Does she feel the same way?”

  Flashes of the night ran through Cloe’s mind like scenes from a movie. She remembered the look on Lindsey’s face as she stared into Cloe’s eyes when Cloe climaxed. The love in Lindsey’s eyes was so evident. Oh, God. Love? Is that what this is?

  Her mom gripped her hand. “Honey, are you all right? You look like you might faint.”

  Cloe swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “It’s okay to feel this way. I see what’s on your face, and it is okay. I knew your father was the man for me not too long after we started dating.” Fiona took a sip of her tea. “Embrace this feeling. Promise me you won’t run from it.”

  “No chance of that.”

  “Good.” Her mom glanced at the easel and stood and walked over to it. She let her fingertips hover above the painting. “You’re so good, honey.” She turned to Cloe who’d followed her to the easel. She gave her a long hug. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

  Cloe walked her to the door. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “You knew I’d be here at some point today.”

  “It was only a question of who made it here first, you or Paige.”

  Fiona laughed. Cloe watched her go down the stairs, not surprised at all when Paige pulled up and got out of her car. Fiona yelled back at Cloe, “I don’t think you’ll get a reprieve.”

  “You got that right.” Paige headed toward the stairs.

  “Good Lord,” Cloe muttered.

  Chapter 20

  They settled into their seats at the IU Auditorium. Lindsey, with her longer legs, took the aisle seat. It was general seating, so they’d finished up dinner early enough that they were among the first to arrive when the doors opened. Lindsey looked around her at the crowd, a little surprised at the turnout. But she shouldn’t be. When Parker’s biography on DeMonet had won both the National Book Critics Award for General Nonfiction and the nonfiction category of the Chicago Tribune’s Heartland Prize, her book shot to the top of the New York Times Best Seller list. An Everlasting Love had also won the National Book Critics Award and numerous other national literary awards. It stayed on top of the New York Times Best Seller list for almost a year. There was even talk of making it into a movie. She was curious if Parker and Hampton would address that tonight.

  Cloe, clutching a copy of An Everlasting Love on her lap, leaned into her. “If I forgot to thank you for tonight, thank you.” She waved the book. “I can’t wait to ask them to autograph this for me.”

  “I’m glad you wanted to come.” And she was. She worried if Cloe would think it’d be boring, but it pleased her when Cloe had said how much she loved Parker and Hampton’s books.

  They chatted for a few more minutes as the auditorium filled. The lights blinked and the crowd hushed. Three women walked onto the stage. Lindsey recognized Chelsea Parker and Bailey Hampton as they took their seats. The other woman, older with long gray hair, stepped up to the microphone at the podium.

  “Good evening, everyone. I’m Professor Rachel Monroe, Chair of the Department of Gender Studies at Indiana University. I’m excited tonight to have two premier authors, one of whom I’m pleased to say is a colleague. We’ve invited them here to discuss not only Dr. Parker’s biography of Daphne DeMonet but also the book she and Ms. Hampton co-wrote, the bestseller, An Everlasting Love.

  “I thought it’d be fun for me to first ask the authors some questions, and once we get through those, we’ll open it up to the audience.” Monroe looked down at a large index card. “The first question is for both women. How surprised were you that Eleanor Burnett not only opened up during your interviews, but also willed her diaries to you?”

  Chelsea glanced at Bailey. “Do you want to take this?”

  “Go ahead.” Bailey, who wore her sandy-blonde hair short, ducked her head. Lindsey wondered if she was a little shy. She glanced at the program and saw where Bailey continued to freel
ance as a researcher to biographers.

  Chelsea sat up a little straighter. Lindsey thought they made a striking couple, Chelsea with her auburn hair that fell just to her shoulders and Bailey, who Lindsey thought was handsome in her khaki pants, denim shirt, and corduroy jacket.

  “I first called Eleanor and asked if she’d allow me to interview her. Bailey came to Bloomington from Denver to also interview her. When Eleanor invited me to her home, I had no idea there would be another interviewer.” Chelsea reached for Bailey’s hand. “It was a shock when I saw Bailey there. We’d split as a couple several months before, and she was the last person I expected to find at Eleanor’s.” She shook their joined hands. “It was a little iffy at first, but as we went along, it got smoother.”

  Bailey said in a soft voice, “Especially when we got back together.”

  The audience applauded.

  Bailey continued. “Eleanor Burnett was unlike any woman I’d ever met. She was obstinate and difficult, never making our jobs easy and forcing us to work hard for her story with Daphne.” Bailey lips broke into a wistful smile. “But she was also beautiful, kind, and so giving. Just as we were getting close with her, she unfortunately passed away.”

  Chelsea said, “As for the diaries, Bailey and I were shocked that she’d willed them to us.” She shared a look with Bailey. “Shocked about that and other things.” She turned back to the crowd. “In fact, we’re pleased to announce there will be an exhibit later this year of Eleanor Burnett’s diaries here at the school.” The crowd murmured with obvious excitement.

  Cloe touched Lindsey’s leg. “Oh, we have to see that.”

  “For sure.”

  “Ms. Hampton,” Monroe said, “you mentioned Burnett being difficult. In what way?”

  “Well, for one thing, she was pissed at us for giving up on our relationship.”

  Laughter rang out.

  “That’s why she had us read her diaries out loud. That was our method of ‘interviewing.’” Bailey used air quotes. “Not only was she giving us a first person account of the love she shared with Daphne, she was helping us to see how wrong we were to give up on our own love.” She put her arm around Chelsea’s shoulders. “Which is why we reunited while we interviewed her.”

  There was a unanimous “aww” from the audience.

  Chelsea chuckled. “‘Aww’ indeed.”

  Professor Monroe said, “Dr. Parker, I very much enjoyed your DeMonet biography, which won two national book awards.” She motioned at the crowd. “But I think I speak for many who are here when I say An Everlasting Love was not only an award-winning book, but also a remarkable, personal telling of a beautiful love story. You and Ms. Hampton did a marvelous job of pulling the reader right into Ms. Burnett’s and Ms. DeMonet’s lives.”

  “Thank you for your kind words.” Chelsea leaned into Bailey’s embrace. “I have to say that between the biography I wrote and this book I co-wrote with Bailey”—she glanced up at Bailey—“An Everlasting Love was my favorite to work on. We were able to capture what we felt so deeply about Eleanor and Daphne. We wanted to do their story justice.”

  Professor Monroe nodded toward her. “I, as well as the many others who have read, and I’m sure reread, this book, can say you accomplished your goal.”

  Monroe asked some more questions then opened it up to the crowd. A young woman, probably a student, carried a wireless mic to each questioner. A brunette from the audience stood behind where Lindsey and Cloe sat.

  “Hi. First of all, I want to say how much I loved both books, but especially the one you co-wrote. My question is, have you thought about working together on another one?”

  Chelsea turned to Bailey. “I’ve been on Bailey to do just that, but she’s convinced that this was a one-off.”

  There were shouts of “no!” and “write another!”

  “Honey, you need to listen to them,” Chelsea said.

  Bailey held up a hand to calm the crowd. “I think Chelsea is the writer between us. I was along for the ride.”

  “You were not along for the ride. You contributed as much as I did. In fact, I remember you writing the last three chapters on your own.” The crowd clapped. “See. They want it as much as I do.”

  Bailey laughed and motioned at the crowd to quiet down. “How about we leave it with I’ll think about it?”

  Applause answered her.

  Several others asked questions until Professor Monroe ended the evening. “Dr. Parker and Ms. Hampton will be signing the books you might have brought with you.” She motioned to where a table was being set up. “Please line up over here.” She pointed to the steps to her left. “And I’ll call you up.”

  Cloe asked, “Will you go with me?” She looked shy, which Lindsey found to be adorable.

  “Sure.”

  They got into line close to the front. After Hampton and Parker signed the first two books, Monroe waved them onto the stage. Cloe thrust her book into Bailey’s hand.

  “Can you make that out to Cloe and Lindsey?” Cloe glanced over at Lindsey. “Is that okay?”

  Lindsey rubbed Cloe’s back. “Yes.”

  Bailey put her head down as she wrote. “How long?”

  “How long?” Cloe asked.

  Bailey raised her head. “That you’ve been together.”

  “Not that long,” Cloe answered.

  “You seem like you’ve been together for years.”

  “You get that impression after meeting us this one time?” Lindsey said, pleased with Bailey’s answer, yet still surprised.

  “I agree with Bailey.” Chelsea pulled the book in front of her and added her signature. She handed the book back to Cloe. “You both have that glow.” She and Bailey shared a look. “Eleanor said the same thing to us.” She met Cloe’s gaze. “So, we’re kind of experts.”

  “We’ll take your word for it.” Lindsey turned to Cloe. “I, for one, am honored you feel that way.”

  “Me, too,” Cloe said softly, clutching the book to her chest.

  “Enjoy each day and love each day,” Bailey told her.

  “And don’t forget to dance,” Chelsea added.

  Bailey took the next woman’s book as Lindsey and Cloe headed to the stairs. When they reached the bottom, Lindsey’s curiosity won out. “What did Bailey write?”

  Cloe opened to the inscription on the title page. Lindsey tried to peek over her shoulder. “‘Sometimes love is meant to be. Don’t let it go.’ Why does that first part sound a little familiar?”

  They walked up the aisle toward the exit. “It sounds like something from one of my favorite Elvis songs, ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love.’”

  “That’s it.” Cloe stopped in her tracks. “Wait a minute. You say that like you’re an Elvis fan.”

  Lindsey face warmed. “Um, yeah.” She rubbed her neck. “You won’t hold that against me, will you?”

  “Nah. I like him, too.”

  Lindsey let out a breath of relief. Elise had made fun of her Elvis collection.

  Cloe must have noticed her reaction. “What? You thought I wouldn’t like that?”

  “Elise hated Elvis music.”

  They stepped outside and walked toward the parking lot. Cloe made a face. “You know, the more you tell me about your ex, the more I don’t like her.”

  Lindsey thought about her answer. She was beginning to see that she and Elise wouldn’t have lasted. Maybe her own reaction to Eric’s death had hastened their breakup, but Cloe was right. She was remembering more and more how incompatible they were.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to keep putting her down,” Cloe said.

  Lindsey hit the button to unlock her Jeep. She opened the passenger door, and Cloe moved inside. “You didn’t say anything wrong, so please don’t apologize.” She touched lips to Cloe’s. Cloe’s eyes fluttered open as Lindsey ended the kiss.

  “Tell me you’re taking me to your home.”

  “As a matter of fact, I am.” Lindsey got into the driver’s seat and started the e
ngine.

  Cloe stroked Lindsey’s thigh, and Lindsey’s muscles jumped. “Maybe we can dance to some Elvis music.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Then maybe we can go to bed.” Cloe raised her eyebrows.

  Lindsey held her gaze. “I’d love to.” She pulled out of the lot and tried her best to drive the speed limit on the way home.

  * * *

  Cloe tried to steady her breathing as they entered the cabin. Seeing Fred bound to the door to greet them helped. As she leaned over to pet him, she couldn’t help but wonder about the touch of domesticity that washed over her. It would’ve scared her if this didn’t feel so right: being with Lindsey, making love with Lindsey.

  Lindsey slipped her arms around her waist from behind. “Let me take care of Fred, and I’ll get some music going.”

  She headed to the back door with Fred on her heels. She stepped outside for a moment, and in no time, Fred sprinted back inside to his feeding bowl in the kitchen.

  Lindsey dumped a scoop of food in his dish then walked into the living room and searched through her CD collection.

  “Refreshing to know I’m not the only one who still listens to CDs.”

  Lindsey glanced back at her. “I’m not too hip on using an iPod for my music. That might make me a little old fashioned.” After loading a CD, she turned up the volume to “Love Me Tender.”

  Lindsey walked to her and held out her arms. Cloe gladly stepped into them, draped her arms around Lindsey’s neck, and leaned her head on Lindsey’s shoulder. She closed her eyes, lost in the sound of Elvis’s deep voice and the gentle lyrics.

  The song ended and another slow one began. She leaned back and met Lindsey’s gaze as Elvis crooned “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” Lindsey, her blue eyes shining with emotion, caressed Cloe’s cheek. Cloe shivered with the touch. She remembered Chelsea Parker writing of Eleanor and Daphne dancing to this song after Daphne won the award for A Sheltered Heart. She swayed to the music, lost in the passion that filled her heart to overflowing. When Elvis sang about taking his hand and taking his whole life, too, Lindsey held out her hand and led Cloe down the hallway to her bedroom.