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Rachel blinked. Minutes earlier she had confessed to Amy that she loved having sex w

ith Ainsley but the way Amy had phrased this question made Rachel realize that she didn’t have a basis for comparison. What did master-level lesbians such as Amy consider “good in bed?”

“Um…” she began. “Well…last night I got pretty dizzy at one point.”

All the color drained from Amy’s face.

“Argh!” she groaned through clenched teeth. “She made you dizzy? And now she lives in town where Sally could bump into her at the grocery store or on the fucking street?”

“Would you relax?” Rachel insisted. “Ainsley is not a woman-stealer.”

“Well, we’re not going to find out because I’ve decided Sally and I are going to be the ones moving to New Zealand.”

Rachel tapped Amy’s forearm.

“Psst! Look!” And she gestured with her head, making Amy turn to look where she indicated.

At the ordering counter, Ainsley was chatting with Vanessa and presumably having a good time of it. The two women were laughing about something and Rachel had to admit it made quite a sexy tableau: the unbelievably gorgeous dark-haired Vanessa—today wearing a skintight yoga crop top which was practically painted on her round breasts; in close proximity with the unbelievably gorgeous golden-haired Ainsley—today wearing her own boob-hugging top: a pink tank with lace-trimmed straps.

Amy groaned and Rachel thought she looked like she was about to faint.

“Oh my god!” Amy said. “That is a lesbian wet dream!” She looked away, took a sip of her coffee and then started chanting with her eyes closed, “I’m with Sally! I’m with Sally! I’m with Sally! I’m with Sally!”

But when Amy opened her eyes again, they immediately went back the scene of Vanessa and Ainsley chatting. Amy groaned again.

Rachel laughed and then laughed harder when she caught sight of two thirty-something women at another table who were staring open-mouthed at the Ainsley-Vanessa pairing as if they were witnessing a miracle. One of them, with a bold stripe of blue in her otherwise black hair, was even fanning herself with a napkin.

It continued.

Two very young women, who didn’t look older than their teens, entered the coffeeshop holding hands and immediately stopped in their tracks when they caught sight of the twosome at the counter. They just stood there, staring and barely blinking.

Then Rachel noticed Amber, one of the baristas who worked at La Vida Mocha. The young woman was busy making a coffee drink but she couldn’t keep herself from taking her eyes off what she was doing in order to look over at her boss and the blonde.

One of those two women at the nearby table caught Rachel’s attention with a wave of her hand.

“That’s your girlfriend?” she asked.

Rachel didn’t feel like explaining that, technically, the g-word wasn’t being used yet and so she just nodded.

“Yep,” she answered.

Apparently, the teenagers, with their bionic youthful hearing, caught this exchange and moved closer to Rachel’s and Amy’s table.

“The blonde one is your girlfriend?” one of them asked Rachel, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Well, I mean, we’re dating,” Rachel said.

Both of the teens looked at Rachel with open mouths.

“OMG, you’re our hero,” the second one said.

Rachel couldn’t help bursting out laughing.

Amy suddenly started fluttering her hands. All eyes went to her.

“All we need now,” she began, “is the redhead version of Vanessa and we’ll have the Lesbian Holy Trinity right here in Carlsbad.”

The others all gasped and nodded in agreement.