DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. No infringement intended.
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"We are so fucked up," Cindy says, and Lindsay wants to react to this statement appropriately, flinch, worry, whatever a sensible person would do, but she can't. Instead, she leans over to kiss her, the sheet sliding away between them, revealing warm skin, and the tide rises again.
Years of want, undefinable hunger, and she didn't have a clue. She's got all the answers, right here and now.
Her hand skims over Cindy's ribs, down the shape of her hip, her thigh, not teasing, but reveling in the simple joy that now, she can. And that's all that counts as far as Lindsay is concerned.
For the moment, she doesn't want to think about the man they are hunting, a man who has killed three women and is escalataing over the span of days. Or the day of Jill's death nearing again. She misses her badly, and Lindsay knows that Cindy feels the same.Neither does she want to think about her marriage, or Cindy's relationship with her kind-hearted, infatuated partner. Sorry, Rich. I saw her first.
"I always knew you were a closeted romantic," Lindsay says dryly, but she can't help smiling when she remembers the easy tenderness between them, everything she's ever dreamed of, and so much more.
"There's a lot about me that you don't know." Lindsay notes how her breath is hitching at the touch. She likes to have that kind of effect, very much. "I want to know everything," she says, and if it sounds corny, she doesn't care. They don't have forever.
In a few hours, they'll be back at their respective jobs. Back to their respective lies.
"Why?" Cindy asks, as always, coming up with the question that hits the mark. "Why me?"
Because it's always been you. Lindsay thinks back to a hotel bathroom, seven years ago, a gruesome crime scene and a young reporter with more courage than common sense. She wants to turn back time to a day when she still had options. Regarding her and Cindy, and other choices made.
But it's not possible, so she just pulls her close without an answer, hoping that Cindy knows anyway.
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