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want to stay home much these days…not since she’d lost Rip, her beloved Australian Shepherd. He’d been gone for nearly a month, but Kylie still struggled. Mick wished there was something she could do for her friend, and truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to join Kylie at her mother’s for dinner, but she was still smarting over the events of the afternoon.
    “Nah. I need to get to the gym.”
    “Oh, come on. Your muscles can take one day off, can’t they?”
    • 33 •
    GEORGIA BEERS
    “Yeah, they can, but there’s a new aerobics instructor I’ve been meaning to chat up.”
    “And by ‘chat up,’ you mean ‘feel up.’”
    “That, too.”
    “You’re a pig.” Kylie laughed.
    “Tell that gorgeous mother of yours I said hello.”
    “I will. She’ll be sorry she missed you.”
    “Hey, when do you want to do your kitchen ß oor?”
    “Maybe next weekend. Let me see what I’ve got going on.”
    “Let me know. I’ll catch you later, Ky.”
    They disconnected just as Mick pulled into her own driveway.
    She grabbed the mail out of the mailbox and headed straight to the refrigerator. Popping open a beer, she sifted through the pile of junk and bills, willing her anger to relinquish its hold on her psyche. She ß opped onto the couch, snatched up the remote, and tuned the TV to a rerun of Friends , forcing thoughts of Gretchen Kaiser and her condescending expression out of her mind.
    Instead, she thought about Kylie. Mick was already looking forward to next weekend.
    v
    Gretchen is a lesbian.
    Kylie shook her head, smiling, not sure why she had such a hard time absorbing the fact. Maybe it was simply the way it would have changed how she’d looked at Gretchen in the bathroom that morning.
    It was one thing to look at an attractive woman and appreciate her appearance while assuming she was straight. It was quite another to look at her and know she might somehow be attainable. Not that Kylie would ever make a move like that…and certainly not on her boss. She’d never picked up a stranger based solely on her looks, but she knew it was done—Mick did it all the time.
    Kylie’s mind tossed her a quick visual. Her, pushing Gretchen against the wall of the bathroom, pressing their lips together in a blistering kiss while plunging her hands beneath the black suit jacket, searching for treasures inside and trying her best to rumple that calm, cool exterior.
    “Jesus, O’Brien, cut it out,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled into her parents’ driveway. Shaking her head, she strolled into the
    • 34 •
    TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH
    garage and reached for the door to the kitchen. There, she paused and whined softly, “I need to get laid.”
    The O’Brien kitchen smelled divine, as usual. Freshly baking rolls wafted the scents of home through the air and Kylie breathed deeply the aroma of her childhood. The kitchen was a cheery yellow even in the approaching twilight. Knickknacks and plants took up every open space. She often marveled at how the room seemed smaller now than it had when she was a kid; funny how that happened.
    “Mom?” she called as she stopped and lifted the lid off the enormous pot simmering on the stove. Using the giant spoon dripping onto the spoon rest, she scooped up a small amount of the stew and blew on it. She tasted a small dab, letting the ß avors of beef and vegetables coat her tongue. She closed her eyes, loving the memories such tastes and smells could generate for her.
    “What do you think?” Caroline O’Brien bustled into the room just as she bustled everywhere, a dishtowel draped over her right shoulder.
    Her hair had once been a lush blond, but was now more of a brassy blond from a bottle since she refused to go gray. It curled gently just over her shoulders, skimming the neckline of her light blue sweater.
    She still somehow looked shapely in jeans, and her ever-present slip-ons were starting to look worn.
    Kylie made a mental note to get her a new pair for