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Actually, on her bed…

She wondered how long she could get away with not washing the comforter Morgan’s ass was now resting on.

“Chloë, really, this place is amazing!” Morgan said, looking up at Chloë. “It’s so cozy yet it doesn’t feel cramped. It feels comforting, in fact. Like, I could totally imagine coming up here on a rainy night, snuggling under the blankets and falling asleep listening to the rain on the roof, feeling like this whole house is hugging me.”

Chloë swallowed. She could totally imagine the exact same thing. Only she’d be in the bed with Morgan snuggling under the blankets. And there would be the small matter of how many clothes both of them would have on. And maybe they’d be sharing some…

“Oh shit!” Chloë suddenly exclaimed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just realized I never offered you a drink or something! Um…would you like some wine, or…?”

Morgan checked her watch.

“I’m not sure we have time. Your two-minute tour took a lot longer,” she said with a smirk.

Chloë looked at the clock. It wasn’t even six o’clock yet. She didn’t want them to leave so quickly. Teenaged Chloë Marchand would have given her right arm to have Miss Banks alone anywhere and adult Chloë Marchand was feeling pretty much the same.

“We can have a quick glass of wine together before we hit the road!”

But Morgan stood and gave Chloë a patient look.

“Chloë, they’ve closed two lanes on the southbound 5 for roadwork. If we need to be in San Diego by seven, we need to leave now.”

Her tone was that of a teacher who would brook no argument about the matter. And this time it was Morgan who took Chloë’s hand, leading the younger woman back downstairs from the loft.

Chloë, meanwhile, was wondering if she could possibly get more turned on.

Chapter 8

Chloë offered to drive since she knew where Lexx’s shop was in San Diego, allowing Morgan to just sit back and enjoy being a passenger.

“You seem so calm,” Morgan remarked as they waited at a traffic light before turning onto the I-5 South.

Chloë turned to look at her and Morgan was struck by how fine her features were and how even at night the deep green of her eyes was so startling. She really had grown into such a beautiful woman.

“Why shouldn’t I be calm?” Chloë asked.

“I just meant about the tattoo,” Morgan replied. “God, if it was me, I’d be a nervous wreck. In fact, I’ll probably get into a wreck driving myself to the tattoo parlor when I decide to get one.”

Chloë laughed.

“Dude, it is so not a big deal! You’re scaring yourself over nothing! Tell you what, I’ll come with you when you get that first tat.”

“Really?” Morgan asked, smiling.

“Totally! I’ll even drive again since apparently you’ll be a menace on the roads.”

Morgan liked that idea. She was originally going to make Naomi come with her whenever she decided to finally get the tattoo but having Chloë accompany her sounded better, certainly more fun. She loved Naomi to bits but now that she was thinking about it, whenever they got together, their conversations usually devolved into the typical gripes of two single, late-thirties women: work problems, micro-aggressions from men, macro-aggressions from men, dating woes and the discovery of new fine wrinkles somewhere on their bodies. Hanging out with Chloë that day, on the other hand, promised an experience of fresh perspectives and different attitudes about life.

When the light changed, Chloë navigated them onto the highway expertly. Morgan was relieved that Chloë was a good driver, very careful and not at all heavy with the gas like a lot of younger people. After Chloë got comfortable in a lane, she reached over and gently tapped Morgan’s leg.

“Thanks for being so cool last night when I thought you were gay,” Chloë said.

“Oh, of course!” Morgan replied. “I mean, it was an honest mistake considering I was hanging out with a bunch of lesbians.”

“Yeah, but you were cool about it. Some straight women aren’t.”