Page 6 of Cascade

“Screaming?”

“Umm, yeah. Precious, you sounded like a coyote choir back there. And I appreciated the encouragement. So.” I shrug, palms up. I can see Opal blush in the street lights.

“Well, this is almost me. So. Thank you, Archer, for indulging me tonight.”

“Nice try, Precious. I’m walking you to the door and making sure you get in.” She sighs. “I’m serious. And you’re welcome. I’m pretty much always awake if you ever want to turn my nipples into chewing gum again.”

Opal smacks my arm and doesn’t look back as she mounts the steps to a little townhouse with a mint green Prius in the driveway. “Good night,” I shout, because she’s already inside. I squint, trying to make out the bumper sticker on the back of her car.Is that…”Hey, Precious,” I yell. “Is that lady parts on your bumper sticker?”

She doesn’t answer, but the glow of a light inside illuminates the car a bit and, yep. Lady parts. A uterus, Hunter would want me to say. Hell, Diana would want me to know the names of all these bits.

I stare at Opal’s place for a bit, watch the series of lights turn on, and then off as Opal moves through her house and, presumably, into bed. I hope she’s not too sore tomorrow morning. I would feel bad about that. I stretch my arms, feeling the skin on my own back sting a bit and then I cross my arms over my chest, knowing my nips are a bit tender.

Questionable decisions.

I don’t know much about this woman at all, and I know she made it perfectly clear she’s not interested in a relationship. But Opal Whittaker is intriguing. And I’ll be damned if I let her go that easily.

CHAPTER SIX

Opal

“EVERYTHING LOOKS JUST fantastic here, Indigo,” I tell her, wincing a bit as I stand up from her floor. She seemed glad to hear from me when I called to reschedule our interrupted visit from a few days ago. I tacked her on to the end of my day today, and I was looking forward to seeing her and baby Gavin all day. A treat before I head home to my cat.

Now that I can complete the whole examination, I let her know her body is healing perfectly and Gavin is growing like a bear. “You getting any more sleep?”

I stretch my back as I watch her nurse the baby, checking out her latch while Indigo’s wife, Sara, tickles Gavin’s toes. They make such a happy family, I can’t help but feel a sting of jealousy for a minute before I shake my head. I have to remind myself to worry about these things later. Right now, my patients need me. I am here for them. Not my own baggage.

Indigo tells me she’s getting about four hours sleep at a time, and naps along with Gavin in the afternoons. I make a note in her chart and, pulling out my tablet, synch my notes with the pediatrician’s. “Everything is right as rain,” I tell them.

Indigo pulls me in for a hug, smushing me against the nursing baby, and I giggle in delight when he hits me with a real smile. “Oh!” I exclaim. “Isn’t he friendly?”

Indigo hands the baby to her wife and extracts herself from the couch. “Stay for some tea?”

I shake my head, declining out of habit more than anything else, but Indigo already has the kettle going. Sara starts rummaging in the cupboards, pulling out enough snack foods to feed a baseball team. “Really,” I start to insist, “I don’t want to impose—”

“Nonsense,” Indigo and Sara yell simultaneously. And then they laugh. “Our friends will be here soon. I want you to meet Abigail,” Indigo insists.

She’s got baby Gavin wrapped up in a sling on her hip while she floats around the kitchen of the Oak Creek Inn. At first I was concerned that Indigo hadn’t made much of a plan to take maternity leave, but I soon saw that the women of the town came in droves to help with the linens, whip up fresh pastries for the overnight guests’ breakfasts, and rescue the invoice paperwork from small puddles when baby Gavin made a mess of one kind or another.

Sara guides me to a seat at the huge wooden table in the kitchen and, noticing me squirm, tosses me a cushion from a pile on the window seat. “Got a crick in your neck?” She raises an eyebrow at me. I shake my head.

Indigo squints as she pours the tea. I smell the powerful scents of bergamot and orange blossoms and smile at the teacup. Archer tasted like oranges, even after he drank a beer. “I’ve seen that look before,” Indigo says, tapping her chin.

“What look?”

“Sar, is it just me or does it seem like Opal got laid?”

I spit out my tea and feel my face turn beet red.

“Hmmm, definitely,” Sara says, blowing into her own teacup before taking a hearty sip. She lifts her eyebrows again. “Was it someone we know?”

Indigo plunks herself on the bench opposite me and leans on her elbows, careful not to squash Gavin against the edge of the table. “Oh, please, tell me something good, Opal. All my conversations these days are about poop and milk.”

“I…well…there was someone.” Indigo and Sara high five and then sit, rapt, waiting for me to somehow put into words the sexcapades that left bruises on most of my body and a deep sense of stillness in my very bones.

I open my mouth to paraphrase, but I’m interrupted by a woman storming into the kitchen. “Get a load of this horse shit,” she says, dropping a thick file onto the table. “I’m going to need to hire my own god damn CPA just to deal with all this paperwork. Sara, you could have warned me that getting married was a pain in the ass.”

“Shh!” Indigo swats the woman’s arm. “Opal here was about to tell us something actually interesting. Go on, Opal. Tell us about the hot, dirty sex you had on a week night.”

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