She knew that wasn’t Bekka’s style, and she didn’t care. She liked how she looked, and she knew she’d love Bekka’s look just as much. They were so different, but so…right anyway.
For now.
Maybe longer if…well. Maybe.
There was no telling with Beks, honestly. She could change with the wind. It used to drive Marissa crazy, but it was part of Bekka’s appeal now. The free spirit was…beautiful to her now in a way that it wasn’t before.
She pulled up the front of her hair and pinned it back in a clip, smoothed her eyebrows and gave herself a wink.
Bek’s was waiting for her in a lace peasant blouse and a long, multicolored broom skirt, her hair was braided into one long, thick hank with a band of flowers fastening it off.
She felt her smile turn fond, affectionate, and wondered why she’d never appreciated Beks this way before. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Look at you!” Beks beamed at her. “You’re stunning. How am I supposed to keep my hands off you?”
“Pfft. You’re not!” She went right to Beks and kissed her. “You are a goddess.”
“You know just what to say, don’t you?” Beks reached up and drew her back down for another kiss.
She hadn’t thought about how spot-on that was, but it was sincere and she made sure Beks knew it, leaning into the kiss, glad she hadn’t bothered with lipstick.
Bekka’s lips were soft, warm and open, and she smelled like sandalwood.
Marissa had spent all day with her hands all over this woman and she wanted more. But she was also looking forward to a night out, a little red-carpet treatment, and some dancing, so she let Beks go, took a step back, and offered her arm. “Are you ready for some fun?”
“I am!” Beks hauled herself up and grabbed her crutches. “Let’s go paint the town.”
She got the door and held it open until Beks got herself through it. “You’re sure you don’t prefer the chair?”
“I’m good. I’m feeling way less shaky. Seriously. Is the cast ugly?”
“What cast?” Marissa walked with her down the hall. “All I can see is how gorgeous you are.”
“Perfect answer, perfect body.” Beks laughed for her, moving with surprising grace down the hall.
Not perfect, but she was glad Beks thought so. “You’re already getting better with those things. You have a little crutch-swagger going on.”
“I’ve got good muscle memory, you know?” Beks shot her a wink.
She chuckled softly. “Must be all that yoga.” Had to be something, Beks was limber as hell. She hit the elevator button. “The restaurant is the other direction from the lobby off the elevators, they said it was close.”
“Cool. I met the chef. She’s a hoot. A real toughie, but she had a warm smile. Deidre, her name was.”
“You did?” The elevator doors closed behind them. “You’re so good at that. Talking to anyone.”
“That’s the Texan in me. It’s a habit of geography, right?” Beks chuckled—at herself, Marissa thought.
“New Yorkers talk. It’s swearing mostly, and not meeting people’s eyes on the sidewalk, but it works for us.”
“I like the way you talk to me,” Beks said, voice soft and gentle. “Quite a bit.”
Mari smiled at her and then the grin turned wicked. “Even when I’m swearing?”
“Maybe especially when you’re swearing…” Beks waggled her eyebrows, so evil.
“M-hm.” Mari was laughing when the hostess came to seat them.
“We have a—”