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  “Would you like to dance?” Lacy whispered in her ear.

  The music was Queen, not exactly groovin’, but dancing seemed like a good way to avoid the complete disintegration of their conversation. Lacy was nice enough, but so far all she’d wanted to talk about was shopping or dining out. Current events and politics either didn’t interest her or were outside her repertoire. Mac couldn’t tell which and wasn’t sure if she cared enough to figure it out.

  She offered her hand to Lacy. “Sure, let’s dance.”

  As they reached the dance floor, the music changed to a slow, swaying tune. Lacy clasped her hands around Mac’s waist and eased in close as they moved together. Mac let herself relax and follow Lacy’s lead, musing to herself how much easier it was to lose herself in the music than in the woman she was holding. Beyoncé’s “Naughty Girl” blared from the speakers.

  Noting the song sampled “Love to Love You Baby” by Donna Summer, Mac smiled. Retro music was the best music, she concluded, letting her gaze trawl the room.

  The place was packed with politicians, socialites, and well-heeled members of the Dallas gay and lesbian community.

  She caught sight of Jordan and her date, heads together and seemingly deep in conversation. Her mind flashed through a collection of high school dance memories. In those scenes she was the one with Jordan, leaning close to exchange deep teenage revelations while their dates sat idly by, dreaming of more intimate acts that would never happen. The music was pretty much the same back then as it was tonight. Now, every time she heard a song by the Bangles, Janet Jackson, or Gloria Estefan, memories of good times shared with Jordan sprang to mind.

  From the moment they’d met, she’d known they would always be friends. Jordan’s beauty drew her in, but her steadfast loyalty won Mac’s heart and they’d been inseparable for years.

  She glanced again at her best friend and wondered what in the world she had in common with her willowy brunette date.

  Other than beauty, Mac could think of nothing. The woman was a model, so Mac couldn’t imagine she shared the same types of experiences as Jordan, certainly not enough to craft a deep and meaningful conversation. They looked fantastic together, almost a perfect match. The brunette wore a slinky black gown and Jordan was elegant in a jet-black Armani suit and Manolo Blahnik sling-back sandals pushing her well over the six-foot mark. They were probably talking about how many times and places they were going to do it when they left here tonight, Mac decided.

  As if reading her mind, Lacy angled in for a kiss. Lost in the sway of the dance, Mac met her lips. The kiss was light, smooth, and nice. Well, thought Mac, maybe she and Lacy could talk about how many times and places they would do it when they left the party. She kissed her date again, lingering this time. Another nice kiss, but not a firework in sight. She persevered and Lacy responded in kind, her lips locking on and her breasts rising and falling more heavily against Mac’s.

  Their tongues slid together just enough to make Mac realize her mouth was dry, like the rest of her. There was nothing wrong with Lacy’s technique, and her breath was minty, but nice wasn’t enough to spur a night of passion.

  Mac began to ease out of her grasp, but Lacy wasn’t letting go. Leaning her head back to expose more of her throat, she gazed into Mac’s eyes and asked, “Want to take me home?”

  Mac paused for a long moment, knowing she would be one of the few to decline such an offer from the beautiful Ms. Lacy Holmes. Then she burst into a big, wide yawn she couldn’t hide. “Actually, I’m very tired and I have to be at the restaurant early in the morning. Would you mind terribly if we left now?”

  Mac could tell that Lacy was disappointed at the abrupt announcement that the evening was coming to an end. Her hand moved slowly down Mac’s hip. Her stare become inviting. She made it clear that she had a different take on Mac’s request.

  “An early night wasn’t what I had in mind, but you’re right.

  Why wait until we’re running out of energy?”

  Mac wavered for an instant, attempting to reason with herself. Maybe she was having some kind of confidence crisis and her reluctance would instantly vanish once she got Lacy home and they were alone. The perfect solution to a libido deficit was standing right in front of her. This gorgeous woman probably had flings in every layover city, so there would be no complications if they didn’t call each other the next day. Mac didn’t have to marry her. What was the problem?

  Puzzled and rather embarrassed by her lack of interest, she said something noncommittal and guided Lacy back to the table. Jordan was so engrossed in her glamorous date, she didn’t notice them until Mac cleared her throat noisily and asked, “Jordan, are you about ready to go? I have an early morning tomorrow.”

  Jordan, eyes still on the brunette, replied, “Sure you do, Mac. Don’t you mean you want to get started on a late night, tonight?”

  Mac stifled a sigh. Jordan was the designated driver, otherwise they wouldn’t have to have this conversation. She knew she should have brought her own car. “Jordan, if you’re not ready to leave, I’ll get a cab.”

  The sharpness in her tone grabbed Jordan’s attention and she eased out of her chair telling her date, “I’m going to go collect our silent auction winnings with Mac. We’ll be right back.” She grabbed Mac’s arm and propelled her to the edge of the ballroom, leaving the other women staring after them.

  “Why do you want to go? I thought you were having a good time.”

  “I’ve had a great time, but it’s late and I have to help with the new menu tasting tomorrow.”

  “What about Lacy? She looks like she wants to spend more time with you.”

  “Lacy’s fine, but I don’t want to sleep with her. I want to go home. Alone.”

  “Okay, I’ll take you. It’s impossible to get a cab in Dallas.”

  “Thank you. I promise I’ll only cramp your style for the short time it’ll take to drive me home.”

  Jordan gave her an odd look. “I’m not worried about that.

  Look, I’m sorry you’re not enjoying yourself. I thought the two of you would hit it off.”

  “Why, Jordan? Because we’re both the same height?”

  Mac snapped. Catching herself, she backed off. “I’m sorry.

  I’m tired. I’ll admit she is gorgeous, but somewhat lacking in the depth department. Pretty is nice, but it doesn’t top the list of things I am looking for in a lover. I need someone I can talk to about more than the latest shoe sale at Nordstrom.”

  Jordan gave her a conciliatory hug. “Why, dear, you have me for that.”

  “If I were you, I would sell my house and live here on the Dock.” Aimee leaned her head back and took in a lungful of the crisp air skimming across the lake. She folded the Sunday newspaper she’d been skimming and placed it on the table beside her. “Nick could make all the wonderful snacks you’d need and you could have one of the cuties here wait on you hand and foot. Every once in a while you could hook up with a well-sculpted cyclist fresh off the trail and looking for a little refreshment, if you know what I mean.”

  Mac closed her book. “Yeah, maybe I should take that advice. I could loaf around out here and still stay connected to the outside world.” She leaned back on the cushioned deck chair and crossed her legs. “We’re offering free wireless for customers now.”

  “Not before time,” Aimee said. “I spend half my life on blogs. You could even post a site-of-the-day on the specials board for the folks who want to use the Internet for its intended purpose—fun.”

  “What kind of fun are we discussing today?” a voice called from the trail that ran below the deck, and Jordan approached, obviously fresh from a ride. Her hair was slightly mussed and she wore bike shorts, a Pearl Izumi jersey, and cleated Sidi cycling shoes. She locked her bike on the rack at the edge of the deck before striding up to the Dock.

  “Speaking of well-sculpted cyclists, look who decided to join us instead of bathing.” Aimee scooted way over on the lounger as if to give Jordan p
lenty of space as she passed by.

  “I carry the scent of good health,” Jordan said, sliding her fingers back through her copper waves. “Thirty miles and I was barely warmed up when I realized what time it was.

  Thought I better head on over here before Mac fed my brunch to the birds. What kind of fun are we discussing?”

  “Mac’s joined the modern age and installed Wi-Fi at the restaurant,” Aimee said.

  “That’s terrific.” Jordan settled herself on the lounger only inches from Aimee, who waved her away while pinching her nose. “Mind if I check my e-mail while we wait on brunch?

  I want to send a quick thank-you to my lovely date for last night. She was asleep when I left this morning.”

  “I can’t believe you had the energy to ride thirty miles this morning after playing the ardent lover all night,” Mac remarked.

  Actually, she was surprised at how great Jordan looked after a night of physical activity followed by a morning of more of the same. Her sleeveless jersey and tight bike shorts showed off every well-formed muscle, and her toned and tanned body glowed from her exertions.

  “Can’t you call her on the phone like normal women do the morning after?” Aimee asked.

  “E-mail is definitely not romantic,” Mac added.

  “We can’t all be as romantic as the main characters in your beloved romance novels,” Jordan replied casually. “And after the night we had, she’s probably still sleeping. It wouldn’t be very charming of me to wake her with the abrupt ringing of a phone. If I send her an e-mail, she can read it and respond at her leisure. Also, most importantly, I can be short and to the point.”

  “Translation…” Mac mused aloud. “You won’t get put on the spot with questions like ‘when will I see you again?’”

  Before Jordan could respond, Aimee chimed in, “I don’t see what’s wrong with a morning-after e-mail instead of the obligatory phone call. Look at how many online dating sites there are out there. Web sites are replacing bars and e-mail is replacing phone calls. Everything is virtual.”

  “Sounds like a great way to meet the woman of one’s dreams,” Mac said with irony. “I could just sit around at home in my pj’s and ‘date’ online.”

  Jordan interjected, “Now, wait a minute. I think e-mail’s great, but it’s no substitute for real-life encounters. I need to see what I’m getting myself into before I invest my time.”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to throw away a whole evening finding out what someone thought or who they were,” Aimee retorted. “Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to spend time actually chatting with your conquests without physical distractions.”

  “I’m not distracted by things physical, they’re the focus.

  It’s all the chatting that can make me lose interest.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Aimee told Mac. “She may be hopeless, but you don’t have to be. Sign up on one of the dating sites. You never know, you might meet someone special.”

  “Mac had a beautiful woman right in her arms last night and still went home alone,” Jordan remarked. “Do you seriously think it’s going to be easier for her to find the perfect mate?”

  “She was beautiful,” Mac admitted. “But we had nothing in common. I’m looking for more in a relationship.”

  “I had no idea you were so serious about finding Ms. Right.”

  Slightly annoyed, Mac said, “You’re so busy fixing me up with one-night stands, you haven’t been listening.”

  “Well, forgive me for trying to find someone you’d be interested in.”

  “What about you, Jordan?” Aimee ignored their bickering.

  “Your hunt-and-gather method doesn’t seem to be working for Mac. Have you had more luck?”

  “I’m not complaining,” Jordan replied. “I have fun.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking.”

  “Jordan isn’t looking for true love,” Mac said, earning a sharp stare from her best friend.

  “Sure, it’s enough to have us adoring her.” Aimee fluttered her eyelashes.

  Laughing, Jordan said, “I’ve never said I don’t want a long-term relationship…sometime.”

  “I have an idea.” Aimee grinned. “Why don’t you both look online? Let’s see who meets someone special first.”

  When Jordan hesitated, Mac said, “I’ll do it if you will. We can compare notes. I bet you dinner, prepared by the winner, you make a date before I do.”

  Jordan gave a resigned shrug. “Can’t pass up that bet.

  When do we start?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Truelesbianlove dot com?” Mac studied the screen Aimee had gleefully opened.

  “That’s ambitious marketing,” Jordan noted. “Who’s going to find true love on a Web site?”

  “Ignore her, Mac. The World Wide Web is big enough for both of you to find what you’re looking for.” Aimee situated the laptop where they could all see the screen. “Read some of the profiles before you try writing one. Maybe you’ll even see someone interesting you can reply to.”

  Jordan took over and began scrolling through the listings of women seeking women in the Dallas area. “I can tell already that poor spelling and grammar are going to drive Mac crazy.”

  She chuckled as she looked through the list. “Of course, that leaves plenty more women for me, since I’m willing to overlook improper use of apostrophes if everything else is up to standard.”

  “What you’re saying is, if the woman’s a babe, then it doesn’t matter if she can’t write her way out of a paper bag,” Mac retorted. “Fine, you can have all the women who didn’t bother to post a picture since your standards don’t include looks.”

  “Oh, now you’re making fun of me because I have standards other than ‘how does she look in a swimsuit?’”

  “Sounds like this is going well.” A hand landed on Mac’s shoulder and Megan leaned over her to inspect the screen.

  “Sorry we’re late,” Haley said, pulling up another chair.

  “What are y’all doing?”

  “We thought for sure you would have started eating without us,” Megan added. “Haley worked night shift, so it took us a while to get here.”

  “No problem,” Mac said. Haley was a paramedic for the Dallas Fire Department and often spent her weekends on long, stressful shifts dealing with the chaos big-city life could dish out. Aimee waved to the couple, “We’re researching the world of online dating. Jordan and Mac need to spread the net wider.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve finally exhausted your dating pool.”

  Megan elbowed Jordan playfully.

  “Yes, I’ve spent at least one night with every available woman in Dallas. Now I need the power of the Internet to help me locate and satisfy the remaining few.” Jordan rolled her eyes at the ensuing silence. “I’m kidding, people. Hell, you really do think I am a shallow sex fiend.”

  Megan hugged her tightly. “No, we don’t, sweetie. I think you truly like all the women you date, but you talk about your conquests like they don’t matter. I sometimes wonder why you minimize your feelings about them. Is it because you’re intent on appearing to dodge the commitments of a relationship?”

  “Ah, spoken like a true psychotherapist. Save it for the paying customers, sister.”

  Megan was a psychologist in private practice. She and Jordan had a professional relationship that had blossomed into a friendship, bringing Megan and Haley into Mac’s circle.

  Megan’s tendency to analyze everyone was a running joke among the friends, and she took their teasing in good humor.

  “Are you telling me I’m way off base?” Megan asked Jordan.

  “I like women, lots of them. My penchant for variety precludes a relationship like the one you have.”

  Megan grinned. “You mean married bliss?”

  “Let’s just say I don’t need all the warm fuzzies you relationship lovers seem to crave. Walks in the rain, sharing coffee over the morning paper, leaning arm in arm over the balcony
to watch a beautiful sunset. Don’t get me wrong, I like romance, but I see myself doing all of those things with many different women for the rest of my life, not the same one, day after day. At least I’m honest about what I want.”

  “Well, that kind of honesty isn’t going to net you many responses online,” Haley chimed in. “Most of the profiles here are from women looking to find that special someone.”

  “I bet a lot of them want exactly what I do, but they don’t think it’s PC to admit it,” Jordan said. “They’ll come out of the woodwork when they see they’re not alone. I’m going to write an honest profile. Maybe I’ll start a trend.”

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Mac moved closer to the computer. “Can we see what’s out there now so I can start wading in the world wide dating pool?”

  Aimee began typing. “Let’s start with age range. Thirty to thirty-five, within twenty-five miles of Dallas…”

  Mac stopped her. “Twenty-five miles! That could mean two hours in bad traffic. Make it ten.”

  “You can always narrow the search later, but if it’s not broad enough to begin with, you may not get many results.”

  “Great, what happens when she falls in love with the profile of a woman who lives too far away for convenient dating?” Haley commented.

  “She’ll either get over it or decide not to let silly things like distance interfere with true love.” As she typed, Aimee asked, “Is anyone else hungry?”

  “Don’t worry,” Mac replied. “Nick’s about to parade out the entire new menu for you to sample. Do we have any matches yet?”

  “Here you go. Eighteen women waiting for you to lavish them with your affection. All but three have pictures.”

  Jordan leaned in. “Delete those three. Seriously, Mac, it’s not a matter of looks versus personality. The fact that they don’t have a picture should tell you something about their sense of security with their appearance.”