Page 22 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls (Kissing At Work #2)

A s the silver necklace bounced against Skye’s chest, nestled under the collar of her top, she grinned at how Thalia would squeal, proud to have a participant in her almighty stones and crystals. Pulling into the Vale driveway on her bike, she knew to search the front yard.

Her nerves hadn’t received the memo, though, as she shrank again at the sight of Celene reposed in the cotton hammock.

The sight of a relaxed, carefree Celene was jarring, and Skye couldn’t decipher why.

Either way, she propped her bike onto a side of the deck and waved.

She probably looked cheesy as hell, oh well.

The woven rope hooks swayed as Celene rose, e-reader resting in her lap. By routine, she didn’t offer a wave or verbal greeting. She gazed from Skye’s legs to her straightened hair, in swift flicks. A could-be, could-not-be smile of reserved proportions barely changed her face.

Lightheaded already, Skye examined the staining on the house.

The darker gray with a warm undertone brought out a whole new charm, a brilliance to the exterior.

It complemented the trees around it, as if it’d always been like this.

She reached to stick her hands into her back pockets, instead feeling her own ass because her knit top went longer than her shorts. Did...did she look pants-less?

Fastening a hand on her messenger bag, she observed, “Beautiful. June’s team works quickly, don’t they?”

Celene’s reply hinted at a satisfied customer. “It’s an impressive finish. They’ll start on the deck next. I have a lot of requisites on precisely what I want.”

“I don’t doubt this.” With a quick tiptoe, Skye spotted the fuchsia plant, obscured but alive on a table near the new sliding window doors. Celene must take it home after every visit.

She actually cared about it.

“Did you want something to drink?” Celene asked directly beside her. Slippery and soundless in similar, but differently colored flats than last time.

Skye squeezed the side of her bag. “Ah, sure. Whatever you’re having.”

Celene exuded poise, a quality inescapable as Skye trailed behind her. She slid the glass door open enough to fit them; its movement as muted as hers. “Are you sure? I could be taking shots of absinthe for all you know.”

“You’re right. Someone will have to fish me and my bike out of a ditch.

” Skye’s smile faded as the summer house’s interior transported her to simpler years.

While details on the furnishing remained fuzzy, she could recall the farmhouse-style layout with the parental bedroom on one side of the living room and the hall of smaller rooms on the other.

The thematic eagle décor made appearances as statues on the mantel or wooden wall art. Celene had begun modernizing, yet Skye respected the components left untouched. Some of the integrity, history would hopefully remain for years to come. “The old meets the new. I like it.”

Celene shut the door behind them. “Thanks, this place needed a major facelift. Does the absence of a television bother you?”

Swiveling in place, Skye shrugged. “Hm, no. I hadn’t noticed.”

“Good.” She went to retrieve a bottle of cold-pressed juice from the refrigerator, shaking its rosy contents with a distant, soft look. “The sketches you sent me are nice enough to mount as-is. You took no art electives when you were pursuing data analytics?”

Skye’s parents would’ve thrown a party if she’d scrapped her major and gone the artistic route. Resting her forearms on the bar, she shrugged. “Not many. Anything artsy I picked up through practice, being around my grandparents.”

“Ah, you’re a natural.”

“I guess.” She fought to ignore the definition in Celene’s stomach or the tightness of her leggings as she rummaged in a cabinet for two tall glasses. Considering it safer terrain, Skye asked, “Were you out jogging earlier? Or...or doing yoga?”

“This is dragonfruit, strawberry, and lemon. Any allergies?” Celene pushed a glass into Skye’s open hand after a head shake. A hint of the impishness from their ice cream date touched her smirk, paired with a pointed, raised brow. “Today I did morning meditation, yoga. No jog. Why?”

The ‘why’ sent Skye ablaze before she sipped. “Oh. Nothing. I...you seem very disciplined and...” Her eyes spoke for themselves, in a quick up and down at her form-fitting garb. “Your outfit.”

Celene didn’t touch her juice. She watched Skye drink. Intently.

It pinned Skye in her position, leaning on the side of the bar rather than reasonably sitting on any of the chairs. She couldn’t retreat, however, even when she finished her tangy, sweet portion with a light cough. Without speaking, Celene offered her full glass, and Skye gulped from it, too.

Come to think of it, Celene used to stare like this as a kid. Skye, one to zone out anyway, had accepted this trait.

As adults, everything changed. The starer now had curves and hips and a crop top and the knowledgeable countenance of a woman who probably had admirers lined around the block.

Celene broke her silence right as Skye set the second finished glass on the counter.

“If we’re going to do this, we have to resort to candid, frank honesty.

” She stated that as a fact, continuing without needing approval.

Mirroring Skye’s position, elbows meeting the edge of the bar, Celene sighed deeply.

“I’m attracted to you, Skye. I wouldn’t have been open to this at all if I weren’t. ”

Oh. What?

Did Celene have more juice? Because Skye’s mouth forgot the rest of its functions.

“I’ve done a profane amount of self-reflection on my travels,” Celene muttered, shrugging. “Ordinarily, my life is tightly managed. But when it comes to women...” Her polished nails—in eggshell this time—brushed the long sleeve’s hem where Skye’s fingers tapered out. “I lose myself.”

Shakily, Skye tilted her hand to make the smallest, most hesitant connection—fingertips interlocked with Celene’s.

Time to relate to the human and not the outer package, no matter how her breath still hitched.

“I’m not the most present girlfriend. I drift off, I daydream.

All my exes were too nice to tell me. Especially June. ”

It’d be a great moment for Celene to smile, as Skye needed the reassurance, but that stayed elusive. She hadn’t moved her hand, though, saying, “I wouldn’t be too nice for that.”

Skye chose to laugh by herself. “I’m sure.”

“As much as I love my apartment and neighborhood, the noise level is outside my control. I couldn’t see the appeal of this dull, ugly house at first.” Celene searched the broad, open plan.

“Turns out, I confused the tranquility for dullness, and it’s not as ugly anymore.

It’s going to make a new family very happy. ”

Squeamish at the thought of Celene leaving again, Skye realized this fake dating thing went deeper than two old friends and a mosaic sculpture. “Are...are you familiar with safe words?”

At last, Celene let Skye in on a carefree laugh. It was rather soft, edging on breathy and throaty. “I am. How intimately are we talking?”

Skye used the hand not attached to Celene to sweep at her forehead, brushing through her bangs. “Let’s make our own—a reality word—that’ll act like a pause button. I don’t want either of us to lose ourselves.”

“A reality check-in. I like that.” Celene slipped their fingers more into alignment. “One of us says the word, the other repeats it as confirmation. And we speak what’s on our minds, no matter how honest. If we’re uncomfortable or confused or, I suppose, really enjoying the moment.”

Like now. Skye enjoyed everything about almost holding Celene’s hand. Tingles at her fingertips spread to the rest of her arm. “What word should we use?”

“Mmm,” Celene hummed, sipping the remaining drops from a glass. She licked her lips, and Skye looked away. “Dragonfruit?”

“Dragonfruit it is.”

“Dragonfruit.”

“Okay, yes.”

“No, I’m using it now. Dragonfruit .”

“Ah, sorry.” Skye had been scaling every tendon and bend of Celene’s skin in her mind, imagining them as prominent as Mount Pocono. “Dragonfruit.”

Celene tugged her bottom lip with her teeth, in a moment of appearing unsure. “Are you attracted to me, too?”

Skye fussed with her necklace’s clasp. Her nape sizzled. “Candid honesty. You’re not my usual type.”

Too sometimes-y. Overly composed, occasionally detached. Unpredictably mischievous. Not the warmest conversationalist. At times, a little corporate.

Yet, the truth flowed out of Skye like the lone hawk she spotted outside the window—soaring, gliding around the blue with its distinctive form.

Skye gripped Celene’s hand before she could jerk away.

“Which is why you’re appealing. I can’t depend on my past experiences.

I’ve known you when you wore a long fishtail braid; now I want to know the Celene who helped a stranger on the side of the road. ”

“That’s quite a long-winded yes.”

Accidental or not, Skye shouldn’t toy with the emotions of someone who’d been betrayed by an ex. “Fine. I acknowledge you’re kind of mesmerizing.” She made a suction sound effect while lifting their hands, closing the portal to this terrifying honesty.

Despite Celene’s measured smile, a single twitch of her lip said it all. She was basking . All grace, she moved on, asking, “Did you remember your book?”

“I did.” Skye gestured to the hall. “There are bathrooms over there, right? May I?”

“Use mine in the primary. I gave it a total refresh.” Celene departed for the sliding door, a lightness to her step. “Meet me out at the hammock when you’re done.”

As Skye rushed to relieve herself of that juice, she couldn’t fight the exhilaration of peeling Celene Vale’s layers.

An old friend had its charm. A new friend brought adventure.

“How long are you visiting?”

Skye utilized her valuable alone time in the bathroom to sort out her zig-zagging thoughts and came up short.