When It Feels Right, page 1
When It Feels Right
Synopsis
Marlene Diggs has her whole life figured out and a ten-year plan for success. You know what’s not on that plan? A one-night stand with a woman who makes her question everything. How could she have spent thirty years not knowing she’s a lesbian? Her first lesbian relationship ends in disaster and leaves her even more confused than before. Of course, the lingering crush on a certain bartender doesn’t help.
Abby McCallister has always felt good in her own skin. It’s everyone else who has a problem. When yet another girlfriend labels her “too much,” another relationship bites the dust, and she winds up sleeping on the couch in her art studio. A cute regular at the bar offers up her spare room in exchange for some tips on fitting into the gay scene, and Abby jumps at the chance. What’s the worst that could happen?
Marlene and Abby know that falling for your roommate is the worst cliché ever, and it’s absolutely not going to happen to them. But resisting their feelings is hard to do when being together feels so right.
When It Feels Right
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By the Author
Visiting Hours
Bird on a Wire
Across the Dark Horizon
And Then There Was Her
Queen of Humboldt
Swipe Right
Two Knights Tango
Almost Perfect
When It Feels Right
When It Feels Right
© 2023 By Tagan Shepard. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-63679-368-9
This Electronic Original Is Published By
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: April 2023
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editors: Ashley Tillman and Cindy Cresap
Production Design: Susan Ramundo
Cover Design by Tammy Seidick
eBook Design by Toni Whitaker
Acknowledgments
I wrote this book in a time of wild upheaval in my life, but I drew inspiration from a time when I thought I had the whole world figured out. It was an interesting experience to say the least! I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to get the words onto paper. It never would have happened without a few wonderful people.
The early stages of this manuscript went to my incredible mentor during the GCLS Writing Academy. Rey Spangler gave me some wonderful advice and I am forever indebted to them for their help.
As always, my thoughtful and patient editor Ashley Bartlett kicked my ass and cheered me on in equal measure.
Rad, Sandy, Cindy, and Ruth at BSB are sent directly from heaven. Thank you all for being you.
And, of course, nothing in this life would be possible or worthwhile without the love and support of my wife, Cris. You’re my favorite person and the best roommate ever!
Dedication
For all the folks who figured themselves out later in life and for all the folks who are still figuring themselves out
Prologue
“You should stay here. I’m pretty good company.”
“I’m flattered, but I’m not gay.”
“Are you sure? Because you walk pretty gay.”
Marlene played the words over and over in her mind as she spun her Manhattan on the tabletop. Each time she repeated the conversation, anger flared. She couldn’t think of anything else. She couldn’t dance with her best friend or her coworkers. She couldn’t steal glances at the gorgeous bartender. She couldn’t do anything except seethe at the stranger’s comment.
Walk gay? What did that even mean? How could someone walk gay? And if there was a way to walk gay, she didn’t do that. She walked like a lady. A successful woman. Marlene forced herself to stop spinning her now room temperature drink and forget what the stranger had said. She stood, preparing to go out onto the dance floor.
She was standing in front of the stranger before she realized she’d started walking. She put down her drink slowly, turning her eyes to Marlene with a languid grace that sent a zing of interest up Marlene’s spine.
“You’re back.”
The sound of her voice grated along Marlene’s nerves. Or it was supposed to. Marlene straightened her shoulders, trying to focus, but she wasn’t fast enough.
“I knew you would be.” The stranger waved two fingers in the air to signal the bartender. “Let’s get you a beer, shall we? I think you’d rather have a beer than that fussy drink you had before, right?”
“I like Manhattans,” Marlene said. “And they aren’t fussy.”
“Any drink that includes a cherry and bitters counts as fussy. Let’s go for something simpler, shall we?” She turned to the bartender and said, “Abby, get my new friend a beer, would you? Let’s see. She’s not the IPA type, that’s for sure. Something simple. An American lager.”
Marlene tried to stop Abby, but one look into her smiling, playful eyes and Marlene lost all ability to speak. She was stunning. Enough to turn anyone’s head no matter how straight they were.
That thought shook Marlene out of her daze and reminded her why she’d marched across the bar to tell this woman off. When the bartender walked away, Marlene turned her glare back on the stranger. “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”
“Penelope.”
“What?”
“It’s my name. Call me Pen.” She leaned in close and said in a husky whisper, “It’ll be easier for you to shout the short version of my name when I make you come.”
A thrill snaked through Marlene at the words spoken with a hint of promise, but it shriveled quickly. She’d been here before and it never went anywhere.
“I told you before, I’m not gay.”
Pen winked, bringing a flush to Marlene that she told herself was anger. “Sure.”
“I’m not.” Marlene slapped her palm on the bar in frustration. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that ladies didn’t get angry. After another deep breath, she was able to calmly ask, “What did you mean when you said I walk gay? I don’t walk gay. That’s not a thing.”
Pen slid the bottle of beer across the counter into Marlene’s hand. She hadn’t even noticed it being delivered. Where had the bartender gone?
“It’s not just the way you walk. It’s everything about you,” Pen said.
“No. It isn’t.” Marlene took a sip of the beer without thinking. It was delicious. Smooth and cold and not as bitter as she remembered. She hadn’t had a beer in years. Not since her sophomore year in college. Ladies drank wine or, if they couldn’t stand the stuff like Marlene, cocktails.
“Yeah. It is.” Pen reached out and flicked at the loose collar of Marlene’s silk blouse. “Like this costume you’re wearing. You know you look ridiculous in this, right? Like a kid whose big sister dressed him up in drag.”
Marlene’s mouth fell open and she couldn’t catch it. A throbbing started in her temple and humiliation washed through her like a tidal wave. She suddenly felt the weight of her clothes. How her blouse stuck to her skin and how her slacks pinched at her waist. The way her lace bra chafed her armpit and the awkward way her bikini briefs left part of her butt bare. Everything felt wrong and awkward and she wanted to peel out of her skin.
“Fuck you,” she spat and turned, marching to the exit without seeing it.
The night air slapped her when she hit the sidewalk and she looked around. She had no idea where she was. She had a vague recollection of handing her keys over to a valet, but she couldn’t quite remember. Was that here, or was it at dinner earlier? A throat clearing feet away made her jump. The moment she saw the attendant’s politely confused smile, she remembered the whole exchange. She handed the valet a ticket she found in her pocket, pointedly avoiding eye contact until he jogged off with her keys in hand.
Marlene gripped her phone hard as she watched the street, waiting for the headlights that would be her escape. She plotted the trip in her head. The valet would return in a few moments with her car. The drive to her condo would be quick at this time of night. In an hour, she’d be home, preparing for bed and forgetting this night ever happened.
“You shouldn’t wait out here alone.”
Marlene closed her eyes at the sound of Pen’s voice. Why wouldn’t she just go away? Hadn’t she done enough damage?
Pen appeared at her side, standing shoulder to shoulder and looking at the busy street. “Not that Adams Morgan is a dangerous place, but there’s a lot of us around here.” She leaned in to whisper close to Marlene’s ear, “Lots of queers on the streets out here. How many women have nodded at you as they walked past? We can spot our own, you know.”
“Goddamn it, what is y
“I’m not bullying you. I’m trying to help you.”
The words bit into Marlene deeper than the cool night air, chilling her anger. Without the rage clouding her vision, she noted the softness in Pen’s eyes. The sincerity.
“You’re shivering.” Pen took off her suit jacket. “Here, put this on.”
“I’m not shivering because I’m cold.” Marlene distractedly slipped an arm into the jacket as the anger bled back into her. “I’m shaking because I’m pissed off. You’re rude and mean and I don’t want to spend another second in your company.”
“Uh-huh.” Pen’s eyes scanned her torso, making a slow trip down past her hips and back up.
“Will you look at me when I’m shouting at you!”
Even the roar of her rebuke wasn’t enough to take Pen’s eyes off her body. She was staring unabashedly at Marlene’s breasts and the hunger in her eyes was chipping away at Marlene’s anger and making her feel something else entirely. She pulled the sides of her suit jacket together, hoping that covering more of herself would take away the weight of those eyes on her. To her surprise, however, the spark of interest in Pen’s stare only flared as she adjusted the jacket.
Pen’s eyes flicked up to meet hers and a smile grew on her lips. She jerked her chin over Marlene’s shoulder. “Look.”
“What?”
“Look at yourself.”
Marlene turned to the window behind her. Blackout curtains hung behind the glass, protecting the club’s ambiance from stray light. With the streetlight just behind her, the window acted like a mirror and Marlene could see her reflection clear as day. Could see herself wearing Pen’s suit jacket.
It wasn’t like the blazers Marlene bought from the women’s section. It was cut for a man, with full shoulders and strong, straight lines. Every blazer she owned was darted to highlight breasts and hips. She hadn’t really understood that until now. She’d known that they were the things professional women wore and so she wore them.
Marlene turned, examining the way the jacket fell around her slim hips. It didn’t really fit her well—Pen was wider across the shoulders than she was—but that didn’t matter.
“It looks.” Marlene swallowed hard, fighting against the need to cry or maybe throw up. “It looks…”
The warmth of Pen’s body pressed against her and Marlene could see the reflection of her smile. That smile and the warmth of her breath against her ear sent a spike of desire through Marlene like nothing she’d ever felt before.
“The word you’re looking for is hot,” Pen said. “You’re so fucking hot when you dress like yourself.”
Marlene didn’t think or feel or consider. She just moved, grabbing Pen by the collar and crushing her against the window. She’d never kissed anyone like that in her life. She’d never allowed herself to devour someone. To take what she wanted from their mouth. And no one had ever kissed her back the way Pen did. She didn’t hear her valet honking behind her or the whistles from women passing by them on the sidewalk. For once in her life, Marlene blocked out the world around her and acted on what she wanted.
* * *
Marlene didn’t stop to process what had happened when she left Pen’s house in the morning. She didn’t chat or even say good-bye. She just scrambled to collect her hastily discarded clothes from Pen’s bedroom floor and ran out of the house with her shoes in her hand with all the dignity of a stray cat in heat.
There wasn’t time to go home and shower or even change. She just put her brain on autopilot and drove to the bank in a daze. One minute she was pulling away from Penelope’s townhouse, the next minute she was sitting in the bank parking lot, staring at the back door with both hands on the wheel. Fortunately, the all-clear sign was up, so she didn’t have to rush inside and check for intruders.
Then she was sitting at her desk, her office door and all the blinds closed. She stared at her hands, clenched together on the desktop, every knuckle white as bone. The only thought that banged around her mind was what those hands had done last night. The places she’d touched on another woman’s body. Each touch had felt better than the next. Each body part she encountered more perfectly shaped to fit into her hands. There was a strange, strangled noise in the room. It took her way too long to figure out it was her own, ragged breathing echoing in her ears. She made a concerted effort to breathe normally and all she managed was a gasping, scratchy sound like a fish yanked out of their pond.
Knuckles tapped against the glass door. She tried to answer, but the door swung open before she managed a word and Ellie barged in.
“Do you like strawberries?” Ellie asked, pushing the door shut with her hip.
“Yes. Wait. No? Maybe? I did yesterday.”
Yesterday was kind of a long time ago.
“Cool.” Ellie dropped a white bag on her desk. There was a peppy logo for the new bakery down the street stamped on the front. It was thin on the bottom right, like the stamp had landed awkwardly and no one had bothered to push down on that corner. “I got you this.”
Maybe Marlene hadn’t said all that out loud. Maybe she’d just said “yes” and debated her like or dislike of strawberries internally. It was possible. It was equally possible that Ellie hadn’t listened to a word she’d said.
“Did you hear? Lucy officially announced her retirement.” Ellie dropped into the chair across the desk and put her feet up on the blotter. “You should apply for the job. You’re the best branch manager Fairfax Trust and Loan has. It’s only natural for you to move up.”
Marlene’s clothes were hanging oddly and she couldn’t quite make them fit right, no matter how much she shifted. “I don’t want Lucy’s job. I’ve got enough on my plate. Look, Ellie, it’s not really a good time.”
Too late. Ellie had noticed her fussing with the blouse and now she was scanning her from head to toe. “Is that the same outfit you wore yesterday?” Her eyes narrowed as they focused back on her face. “And where did you go last night? I looked for you, but you disappeared.”
“I, um, left.”
“Yeah, no shit.” Her eyes followed Marlene’s hands as she finger-combed her hair. It was a tangled mess. Especially in the back. “But if you went home why are you wearing the same shirt?”
It was time to get Ellie out of the office. “I don’t want to talk about last night, okay? Just let it go.”
She knew the moment the words were out of her mouth they were a mistake. Ellie sat there, staring at her over her gleaming loafers, for so long Marlene thought she might scream. She couldn’t work up the nerve to tell her to get out. Her palms had started to sweat by the time Ellie finally spoke.
“Oh my God.”
“Ellie, don’t.”
“You went home with someone!” She dropped her feet to the ground and leaned her elbows on the desk, her eyes glimmered and Marlene’s stomach took up permanent residence in her shoes.
“I’m not going to discuss this.”
“But we went to a dyke bar,” Ellie said, completely ignoring her. It was like she wasn’t even there. Ellie scrunched her eyebrows together the same way she did when asked to perform even the simplest math. “Who could you have gone home with at a dyke bar?”
“Ellie.” Marlene was on her feet before she knew she’d moved. Her voice was too loud and if she didn’t calm down someone would come to check on them. “Drop it, okay?”
Ellie flushed scarlet at her neckline and her mouth pulled into a tight, unsmiling line. The muscles in her jaw flexed rhythmically. “Fine.”
“Ellie.”
“No.” She stood and marched to the door. “It’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine, though. Marlene’s best friend was pissed at her and she’d just slept with a woman and Ellie was the only one she could talk to about this.
Marlene said in a rush, “I walk gay.”
