Hideaway (The Women of Vino and Veritas)

by Rachel Lacey

We walked to the front of Vino and Veritas together, and Taylor opened the door for me. To our right was the bookstore, and the wine bar was to the left. As we entered the bar, I asked Taylor, “Have you ever shopped at the bookstore?”

  She shook her head. “It’s usually closed by the time I get here. I’d like to, though.”

  “Me too. I love supporting local bookstores. Maybe we can stop in together sometime.” My gaze fell on the stage, and another burst of nerves gripped my stomach.

  Taylor grabbed my hand. “You got this, Phoebs.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled at her, warmed by what I saw in her eyes. I approached the counter to check in with Molly, the auburn-haired bartender who’d served me the first time I came in. She brought me a glass of water, and then I settled myself at the piano on the little stage in the corner. When I looked over my shoulder, Taylor was at the bar with a glass of her favorite cider in hand.

  I returned my gaze to the piano and warmed up with a few simple bars, letting my fingers roam the keys the way my grandma had taught me. I didn’t realize what song I’d chosen until I looked up and saw Taylor’s eyes boring into mine.

  I was playing our song.

  Two hours later, I stood from the piano to a smattering of cheers and claps. It wasn’t overwhelming, but to me, it felt perfect. I wasn’t looking for fame. I was looking for fun, and tonight, I’d found it. I’d enjoyed every moment on that stage, especially the way Taylor watched me from the bar, like she couldn’t take her eyes off me.

  In fact, it had been hard to keep my eyes off her too.

  I made my way toward her now, pausing to talk to Molly on the way. By the time I made it to the bar, Taylor had a glass of white wine sitting next to her cider. She pushed it toward the empty stool beside her, gesturing for me to sit.

  “Is that for me?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Figured you’d be ready for a drink.”

  “Thank you,” I told her. It was a little thing—buying me a drink—but little things added up to become big things, and my feelings for Taylor had been building since I arrived in Vermont. I lifted the glass and sipped, recognizing the chardonnay I’d had last time.

  “You sounded good up there,” she said, sliding a glance at me.

  “Thanks. It felt good. I really enjoy it.” I took another sip of wine. One of my favorite things about white wine was the contrast between the cool liquid as I swallowed with the warmth it created inside me.

  “A lot has changed since we were here two weeks ago,” Taylor said.

  I laughed, swirling the stem of my wineglass between my fingertips to watch the lights play through its golden depths. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

  “It really does.”

  “I’m glad for everything that’s happened since,” I said. “Every moment.”

  Taylor inhaled as my words hung between us. I hadn’t been thinking about our kiss when I said it, but I was now. So was she, if her dazed expression was any indication. Her gaze dropped to my lips, and it was my turn to suck in a breath.

  She was the one who leaned in this time, but I met her halfway. Our lips brushed together, and just like last time, she tasted like apple cider. I was developing a thing for it, or at least for the taste of it on Taylor’s lips. I rested a hand on her jean-clad thigh as my lips explored hers. My eyes slid shut as I lost myself in the kiss, absorbing the pleasure of her mouth and the way it made my body tingle from my scalp to my toes.

  After a long minute, we parted, both of us breathing hard as we sat up on our stools. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” She stared at me, blinking rapidly, like she didn’t know what to say. Maybe she didn’t know how she felt about our kiss. I wasn’t sure I did either, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.

  I reached for my wine to give myself something to do. I wanted to tell her that we should quit fighting this chemistry and just go for it, that we should drown ourselves in each other for the rest of my time in Vermont and see what happened. But, for any number of reasons, that might not be the best idea. I didn’t want to hurt Taylor when I left, and I didn’t want to get hurt either.

  I was barely out of my relationship with Sabrina, and my feelings for Taylor were already deep and complicated. In the end, I polished off my glass of wine while she drank the rest of her cider, and we left the bar in an uncomfortable web of silence. It grew with every step as we crossed the marketplace toward the lot where Taylor’s SUV was parked.

  “Holly texted while I was playing,” I said finally, desperate to get some conversation going. I couldn’t bear for our evening to end on this awkward note. “She said Violet and the puppies are fine. She stayed with them about an hour.”

  “Good,” Taylor said. “I’m glad she was able to stop by.”

  “I had a really great time tonight,” I couldn’t help saying.

  “I did too.” But she didn’t look at me as she clicked the lock on the car. The lights flashed, and we each went around to our doors and climbed inside.

  “And thanks for driving,” I added.

  “Any time. I know these roads at night a lot better than you do.”

  “That’s true.” I relaxed into my seat. After a week that had revolved almost entirely around a litter of puppies, it had been good to go out tonight. Everything about my life since I got to Vermont was unrecognizable to what my life in Boston was like, but I kind of liked it this way. I’d needed a change of pace, and I’d definitely found one here.

  We were mostly quiet during the drive home, but it was a different kind of silence. This one felt comfortable. We were both tired after a long evening, although there was still an undercurrent of tension running between us. To me, it felt like a “what’s going to happen when we get to my house” kind of tension. Would Taylor come in to check on the puppies? And if she did, would we kiss again? Would she stay?

  Did I want her to?

  I did. Maybe it wasn’t smart, but I still wanted her, and I was tired of fighting it. Maybe we owed it to ourselves to find out what would happen if we gave this thing between us a real chance. Maybe we’d implode. Maybe we’d find something worth fighting for. The only thing I knew for sure was that I’d regret not finding out.

  Taylor turned her SUV into my driveway. The windows in the master bedroom and the kitchen gleamed brightly in the darkness. Holly must have left the lights on when she visited. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as Taylor pulled in behind my car and cut the engine.

  I looked at her, but she was staring straight ahead. “Do you, um, do you want to come in?”

  She hesitated long enough for me to wonder if I was the only one ready to make the leap from friends to lovers. When she looked at me, I felt a punch of adrenaline somewhere in the vicinity of my diaphragm, making my lungs expand as I gulped air.

  Her nod was barely perceptible in the dim interior of the SUV. “Yes.”

  20

  Taylor

  My heart beat frantically as I followed Phoebe into the house. Tonight could go any number of ways, and it was probably up to me to decide what happened next. Phoebe had been quiet since our kiss, letting me take the lead, but she’d also invited me in. She’d launched the ball into my court. I just wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it yet.

  Violet greeted us at the front door, tail wagging so vigorously that it shook her whole body from side to side. I hadn’t seen her this animated before. She was blooming in Phoebe’s care, just like the roses out back and the puppies in the bedroom, while my self-control was withering.

  “I’m going to take her outside,” Phoebe said.

  “Good idea. I’ll check on the puppies.” I went down the hall to the bedroom, where the puppies were in a sleepy pile much as they had been when we left. I sat by the pen and rubbed them, loving the warm, soft feel of their fur beneath my fingers and the way they wiggled, feet flailing as they adjusted their positions.

  While I waited for Phoebe to come back inside, I went into the guest bathroom to freshen up, and then I walked t
o the kitchen for a glass of water. I gulped most of it without stopping.

  “Good idea,” Phoebe said as she stepped through the back door, unclipping Violet’s leash. The dog trotted over for a drink of her own while Phoebe joined me by the sink to pour herself a glass.

  Violet looked up at us and whined before giving her empty food bowl a pointed look.

  “Real subtle, Vi,” Phoebe said with a giggle. “I guess it’s time for your midnight snack.”

  “Nursing mama’s got to eat,” I agreed, and my chest got all warm and gooey as I watched Phoebe prepare a bowl for Violet, expertly mixing the wet and dry puppy chow to fix her a high-calorie meal. She placed the bowl on the floor, and Violet dove right in, scarfing down her food.

  “She’s such a good girl,” Phoebe said, giving the dog an affectionate look.

  And that did it. I set my glass on the counter and pulled her in for a kiss. She gasped in surprise, eyes going wide before she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me back. This was different from the other times we’d kissed. This time, I wasn’t going to pull back after a minute and go home, and we both knew it.

  Maybe there had never been any other possible outcome for us, because as her tongue slid into my mouth, crisp and cool as the glass of water she’d just drank, this felt indescribably right. I couldn’t let her go back to Boston without knowing what it would be like with her now that we were adults, and if my heart was going to get broken, at least it would break after I’d learned all the secrets of her body that I hadn’t gotten to explore when we were sixteen.

  Beside us, Violet finished her dinner and wandered down the hall toward her puppies. Phoebe and I kept kissing. I pressed her against the counter as I sank my hands into her hair, reacquainting myself with its soft depths.

  “God, I missed this,” I murmured, and she smiled against my lips.

  “To me, it feels brand-new.” Her breath fanned across my cheeks.

  I slid my hands down her back, settling them at the curve of her waist. “How so?” Because to me, her kiss was a homecoming.

  “I was so naïve the last time we were together,” she said, gasping as I bent my head to place a kiss against the hollow of her throat. “I’d never been kissed before. I didn’t even know for sure yet that I was gay. I was just clueless about myself in general, so I guess I was always holding back.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m not so innocent anymore,” she whispered, angling her head so I could continue kissing her neck. “And I’m not holding anything back.”

  “Nothing?” I asked, warmth blooming in my core at the thought.

  “Nothing.”

  I swirled my tongue over the pulse point on her neck before venturing down to her collarbone, fascinated by every inch of exposed skin. Phoebe whimpered, spreading her thighs so I could settle myself between them. She was right about one thing. She hadn’t been this bold in high school. Neither of us had been.

  We owed it to ourselves to satisfy the need, the curiosity, the longing that had lingered between us since that summer. Maybe once we satisfied it, we could part ways unscathed. Probably not, but who knew? Maybe sex with Phoebe would be underwhelming.

  But as she clamped her thighs around mine, I knew that wouldn’t be the case. I was already so turned on, I could hardly stand it.

  “Taylor,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s not do this in the kitchen.”

  I pressed my face against the warm skin of her neck as laughter gripped me, and when I raised my head, she had her bottom lip pinched between her teeth, eyes sparkling with amusement—and heat—as they met mine. “Lead the way.”

  She put her hands on my chest and stepped me backward so she could slip past me, grabbing my hand as we walked down the hall. When we reached the master bedroom, though, she took one look at the whelping pen in the corner and tugged me into the guestroom instead. “Change of plans.”

  “Don’t want Violet to watch?” I asked.

  “She’s nosy, and puppy noises aren’t sexy.”

  “All true, and maybe even more importantly, do you know how many times I fantasized about having my way with you on this very bed?” I asked as I nudged her toward the twin bed with the blue-striped quilt that we’d spent so many, many hours on as teenagers.

  “How many?” she asked as her hands found the hem of my T-shirt and slipped beneath.

  “Too many.”

  Her fingers gripped my hips as she pressed her body against mine. I nudged her backward until she sat on the bed, and then I followed her down, laying her flat on the quilt as I lowered myself on top of her. She was so warm and soft beneath me, breasts pressing against mine. It was so much like our teenage make-out sessions, but not, because tonight, there was no reason to stop.

  “Taylor?” she murmured, shifting beneath me so that my knee slid into the space between hers, my jeans pressed against her bare skin.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to know, this isn’t just a rebound for me or a fling before I go back to Boston. I’m here with you tonight because this feels right.” She stared straight into my eyes as she spoke, and there went my traitorous heart again, melting hopelessly for this woman.

  “It feels right to me too.” I had no idea what the future held for us, but tonight felt inevitable.

  Phoebe pulled me down so she could kiss me, and this time, neither of us held anything back. Her tongue danced with mine, hot and intoxicating, igniting every cell in my body with the overpowering sense of need I always seemed to feel with her. This was more than just sex because it was with Phoebe.

  I propped myself on my left elbow, resting my right hand on her bare knee as we kissed. Slowly, I slid my hand up her thigh, eliciting a shiver from Phoebe. I could feel the goose bumps on her skin under my fingers, but I didn’t think she was cold if the warmth radiating from her skin was any indication.

  My hand slid beneath her dress, coming to rest on her hip where a thin band of lace met my fingertips. Tonight, I would get to see all of her, and I was half drunk on anticipation. Phoebe reached for the hem of my T-shirt, and I sat up to help her lift it over my head, baring the simple black bra I wore beneath. She cupped my breasts, thumbs skimming back and forth over my nipples.

  I groaned, lowering my hips so that I was straddling her thigh. She brought her hands from my breasts to my hips, encouraging me to move against her. Arousal burned inside me, a pleasure so exquisite that I wanted this moment to last forever, and at the same time, I wanted to rip off all our clothes so I could have my way with her as quickly as possible.

  I settled on something in the middle, leaning forward to explore her dress while I kissed her senseless. Our kisses grew sloppier with every passing minute, Phoebe’s hips shifting restlessly beneath mine as she sought friction. I brought my thigh against her, giving her what she needed, and she rocked against me with a breathy moan.

  “God, you feel good.” She drew me closer, our hips shifting together.

  “Mm, so do you.” I kissed my way down to that sensitive spot just above her collarbone that had always reduced her to a quivering mess, but tonight, I didn’t have to leave her all hot and bothered the way I had at sixteen. Tonight, I wanted to blow her mind.

  Repeatedly.

  “God, Taylor,” she moaned, arching her hips so that her core pressed against me, and I could feel her heat through my jeans.

  “Can I?” I asked, gripping the purple fabric of her dress between my fingers.

  “Please,” she said, lifting her hips off the mattress to help me remove her dress.

  I slid it past her waist, revealing lavender lace panties that were impossibly sexy and feminine and so Phoebe. She’d always been a girly-girl. I helped her wiggle the rest of the way out of her dress, baring a matching bra, because of course she wore a matching set.

  I’d never owned matching underwear in my life, and while I could choose to think she’d worn this set just for me, I suspected she always dressed like
this beneath her clothes. One thing I hadn’t expected, though, was the little bird tattooed on her right hip. I bent my head to kiss it, watching as goose bumps pebbled her skin again. “When did you get this?”

  “When I was twenty-three, right after I came out,” she said, and I could feel her chest rising and falling beneath me as she gulped for breath. “It reminded me of my time here in Vermont, the way the birds would fly overhead when we lay in our field together, like they didn’t have a care in the world. They were free, and so was I.”

  My throat constricted at this unexpected insight into Phoebe’s psyche. “I’m so glad you found that kind of freedom.”

  “I’m just sorry it took me so long,” Her voice had grown hoarse, as if she were fighting emotions of her own.

  “Everyone has their own path and their own pace,” I told her before circling her tattoo with my tongue. I could almost taste her freedom in the salty flavor of her skin.

  “I was so envious of you,” she said quietly. “You knew exactly who you were and what you wanted when we were sixteen.”

  “You were what I wanted then, and you still are.”

  In response, Phoebe reached for the button on my jeans. She popped it open and pushed down the zipper. I sat back, letting her help me wiggle out of my jeans. Then we were both in our underwear, bodies pressed together as electricity crackled between us. It seemed to scorch my fingers where I touched her, burning me with the strength of our chemistry.

  We scrambled out of our underwear, and my hungry gaze fell to Phoebe’s exposed breasts, so small and perfect. Every inch of her was perfect, and I couldn’t wait another moment. I dropped my head to her breast, nipping and kissing as I brought my hand between her thighs, encountering her slick wetness.

  Phoebe gasped, flinging an arm across her eyes as she arched her back, pressing herself more firmly against me. I kissed my way across her breasts, paying attention to every gorgeous inch until her nipples had hardened into tight peaks and her hips were grinding against my hand as a steady string of needy noises escaped her throat.