A Long List of Firsts: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

“My living room light is on,” she told Rachel.

“Um…okay,” Rachel said. Ainsley could tell, using the kind of telepathy women seemed to have with one another, that Rachel had sensed what was bothering her; that she was also aware of the potential threat.

“Are you sure you didn’t leave it on?” Rachel asked. “We were kind of distracted when we left.”

Ainsley shook her head. Her palms were clammy now.

“No, I swear I turned it off,” she stated. “I remember because when I hit the switch, I had my house keys in the same hand and somehow I dropped them.” She looked at Rachel. “Remember?”

Nodding, Rachel said, “Yeah, I do. I had to hold onto the door frame while you bent to pick them up.” Rachel looked back ahead. “Shit!” And then she leaned forward, peering closely at something. “Fuck!” she exclaimed.

“What?” Ainsley asked.

“Ains, that looks a lot like the car that tried to run me over!”

“Seriously?” Now Ainsley was feeling as if her blood was draining from her body.

“I mean, it’s dark out now and there are a lot of white cars in the world but, yeah…”

Ainsley made up her mind. She guided her own car to the curb in front of one of the other houses on the block and used the voice-assist dialing system to call 911.

“Do not, under any circumstance, approach or go inside the house,” the dispatcher instructed her several moments later after Ainsley explained why she thought there was an intruder in her home. “A patrol car is on its way.”

“Thank you,” Ainsley told him before disconnecting the call. She looked at Rachel and gave her a weak smile. “Now we just wait,” she said.

Rachel smiled back but it was obvious how unsettled she was.

“At least we’re not like those stupid people in the movies,” she said.

“You mean the ones who would drive up to their house, suspect someone was inside and then go in anyway?”

“Yep,” Rachel confirmed.

Ainsley smirked.

“Funny how most of those movies have male leads,” she said. She was trying to sound flippant and unconcerned but she knew she was failing. She was also wondering what the state of her house was. After all, the white car might really belong to a neighbor’s visitor and was completely unconnected to the fact that someone had turned on her living room light. In other words, it was possible that if she had been burgled that the thief or thieves were long gone, along with everything o

f value inside her lovely new home.

Things can be replaced. Rachel cannot.

Because the thought occurred to her that if she hadn’t been so observant when she had turned onto her block a few minutes ago and she and Rachel had interrupted a burglary, there was a good chance Rachel could have been hurt or worse.

She shook her head briskly.

That was a possibility she never wanted to consider.

Her ears picked up a faint wailing sound which grew less and less faint with each passing second. A police siren. Soon she realized that another sound of sirens was coming from a different direction. This was something she never understood whenever she saw it in movies: When it was suspected that a crime was in progress, why do the police announce their impending arrival? Why not just kind of sneak up on the perpetrators and catch them unawares?

“Why do the cops always do that?” Rachel asked, irritation evident in her voice. “It’s like they’re trying to get the bad guys to run so they have to chase them!”

“Holy shit, I was just thinking the same thing!” Ainsley exclaimed.

“Are you also thinking that if we see somebody running from your house we chase them instead?”

“We?” Ainsley asked incredulously. “You couldn’t chase my uncle Bogdan and he’s been dead for seven years!”

“A problem I wouldn’t have if you had positioned the third dildo correctly!” Rachel retorted.