"I like it pulled straight back since your features are so strong. But change is good."

"You can do this any time you want. But if left to my own devices, it's going straight back. I'm lazy at heart."

"I'll get ready and take you to work, okay?"

"Yep. That's the plan."

Callie smiled and rubbed her hands together. "I've got my day all planned out. I'm going to go to the John Adams place in Quincy and a couple of other places around the area. Then I'll come home and get some work done."

"I like the way you say home. I just hope you mean it."

"I would really like to move here. I was very serious when we talked last night."

When Regan gave her a full smile, Callie's breath caught. It was impossible to look into those sky blue eyes and think of anything but being lost in them.

Regan brought dinner home from the restaurant and, after they ate, they went for a run around the harbor. Callie could tell that Regan didn't have much gas left in her tank, so they cut it short. When they got back to the townhouse Callie made what she hoped wasn't a dangerous offer. "Why don't you sit on the floor and let me rub your shoulders for a while. That might help your headache."

"Can you really do that?" Regan asked, looking hopeful.

"Yeah. I'm very good at it." Regan practically dropped to get into position for Callie to rub her shoulders. She whipped off her T-shirt, unconscious, as usual, about being partially dressed. It was wrong in every way to think of Regan as more than a friend when she was so hurt and vulnerable. There would be time for that when she was more like herself. Callie was very proud of herself when she was able to give Regan a good ma.s.sage, making her pliable and loose limbed. It was only nine o'clock, but when Regan stood up, Callie stood up with her and started to lead her towards the bedroom.

"Where are we going?"

"You are going to bed. I can tell how tired you are."

"But...!"

"But nothing. You'll be in a much better mood tomorrow if you get some rest. And I've got so many things to do tomorrow I should get to bed early too."

Regan turned and gave Callie a grateful hug. "Thanks. For everything."

"You're very welcome. I'm just glad I'm here this week."

"Go to sleep and dream about moving here. That's what will really make me happy."

When they were in Regan's bed-together-everything would be perfect. Moving to Boston was just the first part of the plan.

The next day Regan juggled a few things around and was able to leave work by three. She showed up just a few minutes later and found Callie sitting on the deck working on a website she was trying to complete. "Hi. What's the chance of me stealing you away to go for a run to see something I think you'd enjoy."

Callie jumped to her feet and started to close down her computer. "I'd say it's about one hundred percent. But I'd like to get a few hours work done later."

"We can be home by..." She glanced at her watch. "Eight o'clock. How's that?"

"That's great. Let me get my running clothes on."

They got into Regan's car and drove about forty minutes, entering a state park with signs identifying it as "Miles Standish." "Oooh! History. This is really cool," Callie said excitedly. "We can run in a historic place."

"I did a little research, too," Regan said smugly. "You're not the only one who knows how to prepare for a trip."

They got out of the car and took off for a trail that Regan had decided upon. They'd only been running a few minutes when Callie said, "You're being really generous to find trails for me to run on. But we could go on a track, too. I know that's what you like."

They were running on an unpaved road on the edge of a good-sized forest and it was cool and shaded and filled with dozens of natural aromas. Regan took in a breath and let it out slowly. "To be honest, I'm liking this. Normally when I run, I turn off my mind and just concentrate on breathing and relaxing. But when I run over varied surfaces I stay more in touch with my senses. It's a nice change."

"I should probably run on a track once in awhile. It'd be easier to focus on my form if I wasn't trying to make sure I didn't trip on a tree root or something."

"When you move here I'll take you over to the high school where I run sometimes."

Callie turned her head so she could see Regan's face. "How serious are you about this?

"I'm a hundred percent serious. Given everything I know about you, I think you'd love living in New England. And I'd love to have you here. Preferably sharing my home."

"Don't play with me, 'cause I'm really thinking about doing it. I haven't seen one thing that I'm not completely charmed by. This area is just what I thought it would be, and that's all good." And you're the prize of the whole region.

"You haven't been here in the winter..."

"That's true. I've never really experienced a cold winter. I've been skiing and s...o...b..arding, but I have a feeling that's different."

"Yeah, that's very different. Trying to get the ice off your windshield so you can see to drive home on slick streets isn't much fun. And don't even get me started on how I hate shoveling snow."

"Well, we could always change apartments. Very little snow in Dallas."

"Thanks for the offer, but no. I'm a New Englander and I like it that way. It surprised the heck out of me when my parents moved to Florida for half the year. I wouldn't ever want to do that."

"I have no doubts that I could be perfectly happy here."

"You haven't even seen Boston. After living in Cambridge, I realized how much I wasn't using the city. Now I try to go in at least every month and do something fun."

"But there's lots to do right around here. Have you ever been to John Adams' home? Let me tell you all about it..."

When they got home they ate a big Caesar salad topped with a good-sized portion of salmon that Alana had prepared for them. Callie ate her half and Regan commented, "It's been hard for me to get a handle on how much you normally eat. In P'town you were putting away four thousand calories a day, but you're very moderate here. What's the real you?"

"The real me is the way I've been since we've been here in Scituate. But when I'm on vacation all I think of is food. I want to try everything that's unique or local or different from what I usually have."

"That's one of the things I like best about you," Regan said, smiling at her warmly. "You like to experiment and go out of your comfort zone."

"Yeah, I do. I guess I wouldn't have taken a chance on Marina if I didn't mind going out of my comfort zone."

"I'm glad you did. We're always looking for good lesbians." Regan got up and took the plates over to the sink while Callie watched her and dreamed about one day being able to walk up behind her, throw her arms around her and kiss her. She'd never, ever had an attraction sneak up on her like this one had, but it was glorious. Normally, she knew if she was interested in someone within the first five minutes of meeting them. But they'd both been so wounded when they met that there wasn't any s.e.xual chemistry between them. There was now. Enough to blow the house up.

To divert herself she went into the guest room and got out her computer then came back in the living room. "It won't bother you if I work, will it?"

Regan shot a quick look at the TV, then said, "No, I can read."

"Do what you want. Watch TV, listen to music, whatever. I always put headphones on and listen to music while I work, so whatever you're doing won't bother me."

"Really? There's a basketball game that I'd like to see. The Celtics are deep in the playoffs..."

"Go for it. Actually I like it when sports are on TV. I can look up and watch the game for a couple of minutes to give myself a break."

"Do you like the NBA?"

"I've never been to a game, but I like watching any kind of sports. It's like white noise."

Regan grabbed the remote and found the game she was looking for. "See how easy it would be to live together?" Callie just smiled at her, but as soon as Regan was engrossed, Callie found herself sneaking a glance at her much more often than she should have. There was something fascinating about watching Regan watch TV. That was almost a ridiculous thought, but it was true. Just watching Regan's beautiful eyes dart back and forth as she watched the players run up and down the court was mesmerizing. She was as fascinating as a 3-D movie with surround sound.

They kept to that pattern until Friday when Regan came home at noon and announced, "How soon can you get packed?"

Callie looked up from her computer, eyes wide. "Are you throwing me out?"

"No, but someone else is moving in and we have to leave."

"Regan! What are you talking about?"

"I arranged to swap apartments with someone in Boston. They're coming this afternoon and we're going to stay in their place. We won't come back here before I take you to the airport, so pack everything."

"I'm on it. I'm really excited, by the way."

"Me too."

"Where are we staying? Not that I know anything about Boston."

"We're staying near the Fens. It's a little apartment, just one bedroom, but I know you don't mind sharing."

Callie got up and went to her room to start packing while Regan stood in the doorway and watched her.

"Is this something you've done before?"

"No, I never have. But there are a lot of people in the city who like to come down to the South Sh.o.r.e for the weekend. The Irish Riviera is quite desirable," she said waggling her eyebrows.

"I can see why. It's great around here."

"I bet you're gonna think Boston is even better."

Callie grasped and squeezed Regan's arm when they reached the apartment building. "This is so great! What should we do first?"

"Have you had any exercise today?"

"Nope. I started working as soon as I got up. I thought we'd go for a jog when you got home."

"Then we'll go for a jog. Up for twenty-six point two miles?"

"G.o.d, no! Oh! The Boston Marathon. I can do half of it...I think."

"Let's just do around a quarter. I can show you some of the highlights."

"Have you run the marathon?" Callie asked, amazed that Regan could possess such an important piece of personal trivia that she hadn't pried out of her.

"Sure have. It's been a couple of years, but I ran it two years in a row. I've been thinking about joining a club and trying to qualify again. Us old middle-distance people have to have a goal, you know. We can't self-motivate like you trail runners can."

"I know how you people are," Callie said, smiling broadly at her friend, while trying not to get caught staring. Patience had to carry the day. Only when Regan was over Angela could anything happen. Trying too soon would be disastrous. This was too important to screw it up.

Regan worked the key to get it to slip into the lock of the door at their swap, the third and top floor of an older building in the Back Bay. She finally got the key to turn and they entered while simultaneously giving each other suspicious looks. "Garbage?"

"I hope so. We can throw garbage out." They went towards the smell, and Callie leaned over the trash can in the small kitchen. "Oh, lord!" She fanned the air above the can. "Figure out where we can dump this. It smells like rancid fish."

"A scent I'm all too familiar with." Regan got on her phone and called the tenant, showing remarkable restraint when she casually commented that she hadn't asked where to throw the trash when they left on Sunday. As soon as she hung up she took the bag and dashed for the door. "Open the windows. All of them!"

By the time Regan returned, her cheeks were pink and she still wore a pained look on her face. "We've gotta get out of here. I hate the smell of rancid food."

"Do you think there's anyone who likes it?" Callie asked, giving her a playful grin. "Let's get changed and not come back until we're so tired we'd be able to sleep anywhere."

They went into the bedroom and eyed the double bed. "This would only be a queen in Munchkinland. d.a.m.n," Regan mumbled. "I should have checked the place out first."

"It's fine. Really. I swear it's nicer than my apartment, so don't say anything too disparaging."

Regan's smile returned and she nodded. "It's fine. You're right. And it's always nice to save a few hundred bucks."

"Absolutely." Callie started to change. She was just a little dismayed when Regan shimmied out of her jeans and started to slip into a tiny pair of navy nylon shorts. She looked sensational in them...and that was the problem. Callie was used to running in baggy shorts over compression shorts. That's how just about everyone dressed in Dallas. But things were different in New England, she'd learned. A lot of people wore the kinds of outfits Olympic runners wore, showing off their lean bodies. The last thing she needed was to see Regan's lithe body displayed any more clearly!

But Regan evidently didn't know about Callie's burgeoning desire. She took off her shirt and put on a slim-fitting red singlet that advertised a running club from the South Sh.o.r.e, then tucked the singlet into her shorts, sat on the bed and put her shoes back on. Callie watched the long muscles of Regan's back flex and twist as she worked, then stood and clapped her hands together. "Let's move!" Regan demanded, luckily not asking why Callie was standing there with her khakis in her hand, no running clothes in sight.

Callie walked out of the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in her usual grungy running clothes. "Where's the khakis?" Regan asked.

"Khakis?"

"Yeah. We need the khakis to get to Hopkinton."

"What do my pants have to do with anything?" Callie asked, completely puzzled.

"Just teasing." Regan picked up her keys and dangled them. "If you find someone with a thick enough accent, that's how they ask for their keys. "Where's my khakis?" she repeated, grinning.

Callie pinched her cheek. "Let's go see Bah-ston."

Regan had devised an ingenious way to see the highlights of the marathon course. It involved short runs of four or five miles, then a short car ride to the next spot. By the time they'd finished they'd been to the start, up and down Heartbreak Hill and cruised to the Hanc.o.c.k Building where they'd playfully waved to the imaginary crowds.

Afterwards, they headed out to one of Regan's favorite restaurants for dinner, and Callie was surprised that she'd chosen to return to Cambridge. "Aren't you afraid of running into Angela?"

"No. I'm not going to lose Cambridge. I like it and I've lost enough." She smiled thinly. "Besides, she's not the type to go out to dinner alone, and she's not dating anyone. She's probably living on Lean Cuisine."

"Uhm, how do you know for sure she's not dating anyone?"

They were riding on the T, Boston's subway, and it was noisy and fairly crowded. Regan leaned over and spoke right into Callie's ear. "I believe her. She's not generally a liar."

Callie nodded, not asking any more questions. When they exited the station, Regan said, "I believe everything she told me the other night."

Callie slipped her hand around Regan's arm, holding it close. "But..."

"It's like I told you. I believe she's sincere about wanting me back. I believe she's working hard in therapy, something she swore she'd never do, to figure out why she was unfaithful. I even believe she's serious about going to couples counseling to figure out why we had such a bad s.e.x life."