Entangled

by Melissa Brayden

  “Totally a date,” she said in Joey’s ear, as a song about a neon moon played on.

  “Yeah, well…” was all Joey gave back. It was plenty.

  The talking faded into the mist as they danced because Becca became aware of their proximity. It dismantled her normally careful composure. Tonight, she was entirely affected and watched helplessly as the control she always craved was stripped from her with each passing moment. With Joey pressed up against her as they stepped across the dance floor in a slow, impeccably timed shuffle, the rest of the world faded at the edges. She enjoyed the way Joey’s hair inadvertently tickled her neck. She memorized the feel of Joey in her arms, and she reveled in the warmth from her body. She savored the raspberry vanilla combo that would forever mean Joey Wilder to her, for now and always.

  When the final notes of the song clung and faded, Joey stepped back and met Becca’s gaze. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted, almost as if she’d just experienced what Becca had.

  “Where should we go now?” Joey asked quietly.

  “I don’t know, but I think I’d follow you anywhere.”

  * * *

  Joey hadn’t set out to feel what she was feeling. That hadn’t been the goal tonight, but at the same time, she noticed herself stepping toward feelings for once, instead of away. That wasn’t her usual MO, especially after the way she and Simone ended.

  She navigated and watched Becca as she drove them to Maraschino’s, where they could surely cool off via ice cream. She needed it, too, because watching Becca drive had been a bad idea. Her perfect profile and the little freckle to the side of her upper lip sent Joey to dreamy places that quickly moved to steamy places and more. Becca’s chestnut hair, its long layers, had her fantasizing again about what it would be like to thread her fingers through that hair as she kissed those lip-glossed lips, taking that lip gloss out entirely. She shifted in her seat, feeling overly sensitive all over.

  Maybe it also hadn’t been a good idea to dance the way they had, but it wasn’t like she was going to let Frankie McCluster from high school dance with Becca pressed against him while she watched from the bar. The memory of that dance had her hands itching and her face heated. She shifted in her seat again, aware of the compounded effect low in her body.

  “Is this the place?” Becca asked, leaning forward to get a better view of the brown building with the bright blue roof with a straw sticking out of the top. “Because I like it. It’s almost as cute as you.”

  The compliment sent Joey a hit of energy. “Well, thank you for that. And what was it you asked?” Her mind had blanked out on her.

  “Is this the place?”

  Joey laughed. “Yes! Sorry. Welcome to Maraschino’s, home of the best soda fountain in the West.” Joey gestured grandly to the building. “Because it’s off the main drag, the tourists, God love ’em, don’t hit this place up as hard, and we get to keep it all to ourselves. A hidden gem.”

  “All part of the master plan to keep the town preserved and stagnant for all time?”

  “That was a good one. Got any more?”

  Becca slid her hands into the pockets of that expensive leather coat she looked so chic in. “Always. But I’d much rather have an ice cream soda with you.”

  “Nice save,” Joey said with a wink. “This coat is nice on you.” She touched the hem.

  Becca grinned and looked down. “I took a risk.”

  “They always seem to pay off when it comes to your clothes.”

  Becca seemed to stand taller. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime,” Joey said, opening the door for her date. She took the liberty of finding them a two-top near the soda bar once inside. Playing tour guide had Joey seeing this place through a newcomer’s eyes, and that made her spirits light, much like the fun vibe of the shop itself. The decor was adorable, with a row of silver stools with blue leather seats lining the checkered bar. Throwback illustrations from soda fountains of yesteryear lined the wall. The sounds of zaps, buzzes, and dings underscored the oldies tunes that were piped in on the stereo system. That was because there was an adjacent room devoted entirely to arcade games, which bucked the sixties vibe, but were a big moneymaker for the owners.

  “What are we drinking?” asked their young server, who wore a handkerchief tied around her neck.

  Becca held out a hand to Joey. “You do the honors for both of us. I trust you.”

  Wasn’t hard. “We’ll take two brown cows with two scoops, and add the chocolate sauce on top.” She turned to Becca. “It’s an extra seventy-five cents.”

  “Then we have to have it. I want the best. Always.”

  The waitress laughed and left them. Joey sat back, excited they’d stopped in and enjoying herself so very much. “Did you grow up rich?”

  Becca winced. “Comfortable is a more accurate word. My parents were both accountants with well-known firms. I didn’t get the numbers gene, though.” She laughed as if remembering something. “I used to spend my free time inviting anyone and everyone into my room for imaginary tea and coffee and made sure the experience was a pleasurable one.”

  Joey shook her head. “Look at you. In the hospitality business from day one.”

  “You, too, though, right?”

  “It wound up that way when my father realized I wasn’t the best at chemistry and wouldn’t be taking over his job anytime soon. Winemaking wasn’t for me. Wine was, however, and I love introducing our work to new people.”

  “You were a fantastic guide when I first came in. The perfect blend of friendly and knowledgeable.” She gave her head a little shake. “And beautiful. Don’t think I didn’t take that part away with me.”

  “Thank you.” Joey batted her lashes.

  “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

  Oh, that made everything squeeze pleasantly, uncomfortably, and back again. Joey met Becca in her honesty. “Yeah, I had a similar experience when you sat down.” She exhaled slowly. “Plus, I really liked you once we started talking. That is, until your evil empire was revealed. Why do you have to work for the empire again?”

  Becca smiled a genuine smile. “I’m going to change your mind about The Jade.”

  Joey leaned in. “Impossible. I’m here for you, and you alone.”

  Becca sat back in her chair. Her smile dimmed in a good way, a smoldering one. “I’m not going to pretend that wasn’t a really attention-getting sentence.”

  Joey leaned into the momentum and didn’t allow herself to think too actively. This was fun. Becca was beautiful, intelligent, and funny. But Joey had questions. “What about your date the other night? We have to rewind. Is it…serious? Do you call her nightly?”

  Becca laughed. “It’s serious for the gay cowboys who set me up in the first place. I love them, but they received a talking-to.”

  Joey leaned in and rested her chin in her palm, meeting Becca’s gaze. “Those boys are the sweetest. I can’t imagine they’d purposefully screw with you. They just don’t know what you like.”

  “What? You? Because it’s true.”

  Joey shook her head. “Maybe the smoothest thing you’ve ever said to me, and there have been several.”

  “I feel a personal challenge at hand, but I’ve always been type A.”

  “Who am I to get in the way of your ambition?”

  “Two amazing brown cows with two scoops and added chocolate sauce,” their server said and placed a curvy glass in front of each of them.

  “Oh, hello, sexy,” Becca said, examining the magnificent drink.

  Joey winked. “You’re welcome.”

  “You’re not kidding.” Becca dug in, then gestured to her dish with a spoon, dropping to a whisper to say, “Maraschino’s is importing crack-laced ice cream into their shop.”

  Joey whispered back, “They just make it fresh each day. You can’t beat homemade.”

  They ate and chatted until they were ready to burst. She loved the ice cream, but she wasn’t quite ready to say good night to Becca.


  Becca sat back. “You’ve led me across a dance floor two steps at a time and introduced me to the illegal homemade vanilla ice cream. I don’t know how we can top this.”

  “Take a walk with me? It will stop me from curling up in a sugar coma if I can burn off some energy.”

  “All right,” Becca said. “But only for coma-dodging purposes, and you’ll owe me. I’m like the godfather.”

  “Free glass of pinot the next time you visit?”

  “Sold.” Becca smiled and her eyes crinkled slightly at the sides. It was a great look. All of Becca’s were. Joey’s physical attraction to Becca flew off the graph entirely. She hadn’t known herself to have a type, but she did now, and it looked just like Becca Crawford. Even the evil empire would have trouble toppling the things Joey was feeling. Damn it.

  “When will that be?” she asked as they exited the restaurant, bypassed the Juke, and headed down the sidewalk. They were in a less crowded part of town, which afforded them space to walk beneath the streetlights all on their own.

  “You already can’t wait to see me. I must be doing okay.”

  “You definitely receive an A for the human factor, but the employment skews your average,” Joey said, hands in her pockets, keeping her gaze firmly on the path ahead of them. Easier that way.

  “I’m going to focus on the A. You also get one, but a skewed average for the judgmental factor.”

  “Gasp out loud,” Joey said. “I’m not judgmental.” They passed the olive oil shop she loved so much, and though it was closed for the night, she took a deep inhale and melted at the wonderful payoff. “Side note. You definitely want to give that place a try.”

  Becca glanced back. “Olive You. Cute name.”

  “The products are even better. Back to the judgment.”

  “Ah, your sharp criticism and rush to conviction regarding The Jade.”

  Joey scoffed. “I’d hardly call it a rush.”

  “I would.”

  “Feisty.”

  “A truth teller,” Becca countered. “The fact of the matter is you don’t know what effect the resort’s opening will have on Whisper Wall or on Tangle Valley Vineyards. You’re up in arms, and it’s all for nothing. Trust me.”

  Joey didn’t do that a ton, but maybe there was wiggle room. She marinated on the request as she walked. “There’s the tiniest sliver of possibility that the resort won’t kill everything I love about where I live.”

  Becca nodded. “Let’s cling to that. I can work with a sliver, and when all is said and done, I think you’re going to be surprised. I’m actually expecting a fruit basket.”

  “You’re ambitious and maybe delusional.”

  “Am I delusional in thinking that there’s something happening between us that neither one of us expected?”

  Joey gave her head the smallest of shakes. “I wasn’t expecting you to just go there. Shouldn’t we warm up?”

  “Then you forgot the ambitious part.”

  Neither said anything for a moment. They walked the quiet section of the street, listening to the buzz of the streetlights overhead as Joey decided whether to punt the ball or go for it. Her father’s analogy. “Of course there’s something happening,” she said as if it was the most natural thing in the world, when the truth was that her heart was impersonating a jackhammer and there was nothing everyday about the bursts of excitement she experienced when Becca was around that, to be honest, she could really use in her life these days.

  With a hand on her arm, Becca turned her so that they were facing each other beneath the shadowy awning of a closed boutique. “Joey,” was all she said.

  It was all she needed to say. The look in Becca’s eyes communicated the rest. Joey felt the word all over, her name on Becca’s lips. She took one step forward, eliminating the already small distance between them. It was her way of meeting Becca halfway, and hopefully showing her that—

  Becca’s lips captured hers before she could complete the thought. Everything else went still, like the universe had a pause button for everything but this kiss, which, sweet moscato, was better than any kiss should have the power to be. Her lips moved over Becca’s, and she savored not only their contact but the chain reaction it sent through her body. Everything warmed, her fingertips tingled, her stomach flip-flopped, and her body craved. She cradled Becca’s face in her hands as they kissed, slow, measured, and wonderful in the shadows. A shadowy kiss. That’s how she would always remember it. Becca tasted sweet like the chocolate sauce. She’d always remember that, too.

  And then, so very sadly, it was over.

  Joey’s eyes were still closed, however. She needed them to be, so she could cling to it all for just a few seconds longer. When she opened them again, the world was still there waiting for her, and so was Becca.

  “I just took the liberty,” Becca said in half explanation, half apology. She seemed pleased with herself.

  Joey touched her lips. “Is that what they call it? Whatever it was…” She shook her head and offered Becca a smile. “We might be mortal enemies, but we sure can—”

  “Kiss like we were meant to always kiss.”

  Joey exhaled and met Becca’s gaze in the dim light. “Yeah, what you just said.” She stepped forward so that she was smack in the middle of Becca’s space. She inclined her face upward, enjoying the edge Becca had on her in the height department. Joey watched as she took a breath and leveled a sexy stare. Chemistry was a real and very definite thing. Very slowly, in the silence of the moment, Joey used her forefinger to carefully lift and move a strand of hair off Becca’s forehead. She wanted her so very badly. “What are we going to do with this?” she asked.

  “I could write up a proposal,” Becca said back sincerely.

  That did it. The comment entirely fit everything Joey knew and found sexy in Becca. Joey cracked a smile, and the charge in the air around them relaxed until they were just…them. Two people enjoying a night out and wondering what lay ahead. The question mark intoxicated.

  “I look forward to reading it.” She stole a lingering kiss and pressed on down the sidewalk. “Follow me. The tour continues.” Becca didn’t hesitate. Joey showed her the old post office with only one customer window, and the numerous tasting rooms where one could sample tons of local wine in one swoop, and finally one of her favorite places, the used-book shop that her grandmother used to bring her to when she was small and let her pick out any book in the whole store. Joey would hug the book to her chest and head off into the vineyard, finding a comfy spot between the vines, and lose herself in whatever fairy tale was in store. The practice had always made the vines feel extra magical to Joey.

  “I absolutely adore the image of a little blond girl, lying on her back, reading a book between grapevines.”

  “Well, that was most afternoons after school, so adore away. After fifth grade, Madison would often join me with a book of her own.” Joey touched her chin as they walked. “Let me guess. Childhood Becca shopped at Bergdorf’s and scheduled playdates in her appointment book.”

  Becca laughed. “Well, I was more of a Carrington’s kind of girl, but close enough. My mom said I woke up earlier than I had to every day of preschool because I didn’t want to be late.”

  “Tell me you carried a briefcase.”

  “I preferred the term attaché.”

  “Can we kiss some more?” Joey was only half kidding. Everything about Becca’s polished persona got her hot and bothered and ready to unbutton a few business suits. “Thank God,” she said, as Becca moved toward her. They seemed to be kissing their way down Maple Avenue, which could honestly use the excitement. Becca pressed her lips to Joey’s, and she angled for better access. “Yep. Still every bit as good as the last time.”

  Becca touched her lips. “I’m glad I hold up.”

  “More than hold up. You make my head swimmy, and that beer I had was hours ago.” A pause as conflict bubbled within her. “I can’t go home with you tonight,” Joey said. “I’m not the type.” She held up
a hand before Becca could speak. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to be that girl tonight and let you just…pencil me in, you know?” She widened her eyes. “God, that sounds bad. And a little sexy.” She touched her forehead. “But no. That would be a bad idea.”

  “Do you need me here for this discussion?” Becca asked, amused and moving her hand in a circle. “I could honestly listen all night, but I seem superfluous.”

  Joey winced. “Sometimes I process out loud. More so when I’m nervous.”

  “I make you nervous? I wouldn’t have guessed that, but I think that’s good.”

  “I think I like it, too. Jury is out.”

  Becca studied Joey and raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to come over?”

  “Not at all sure.” Joey bit the inside of her lip. “But I’ll do the smart thing instead, and stay on the safe side of the road tonight. Plus, I can’t have people thinking I endorse you and all the abject commercialism you stand for.”

  “It’s true. I’m awful.” Joey winced along with her. “Shall I drive you home?”

  She bumped her shoulder into Becca’s. “Yes. But first, I want to say…I’m sorry. For not being so nice to you early on. I can resent The Jade, but that doesn’t have to transfer to you. You’re a good person.”

  “I appreciate that.” The wind picked up and somehow made the moment seem destined. Becca shrugged. “Maybe in the end, you won’t hate either of us.” An idea seemed to occur to her. “We open in nine days. Want to come by for an early tour next week?”

  “You want me to set foot in Satan’s Palace?” she asked with a squeak.

  “You won’t turn to ash upon entry. I’ll make special arrangements.”

  Joey softened, trying to be big about The Jade’s impending opening. “I suppose it’s the neighborly thing to do.”

  “Great. Then it’s a date.”

  “Is it, though?” Joey asked playfully as they approached the car. “We seem to struggle to define ours.”