Susie, the bartender, paused in front of Joey. “How’s that Winchester 85 working out?”
“It’s amazing,” Joey said. “My first time trying one.”
“Susie, have you seen Bruno?”
Joey froze at the recognizable voice and the click-clack of sophisticated heels. She knew that click-clack. The sound still made her midsection flutter.
Susie paused her martini preparation and pointed around the corner into the restaurant. “Headed that way. High-end guest is apparently ordering some high-dollar wines.”
“Yes, that’s one of our VIPs and I wanted to make sure—Joey?”
Joey glanced over her left shoulder and grinned, as if What a surprise, running into Becca Crawford at her very own workplace. God, she was nervous. “Hi.”
“What brings you by? Wait. You’re drinking an 85?”
She lifted her glass like she owned it. “I drink cocktails.”
“Oh. I’ve never seen it.”
Joey shrugged. “Okay, well, maybe I’m trying new things. Turning over a new leaf.”
Becca studied her. “You look…beautiful. Did you curl your hair?”
“A little bit.”
Becca’s gaze dipped briefly to Joey’s cleavage and then away again.
“There’s Bruno,” Susie said as she poured from the shaker.
“Oh,” Becca said, seeming disappointed. “I guess I better—”
“Yeah. Duty calls.”
“Will you be here later?” That felt like interest. Maybe Becca didn’t hate her.
“No. Just the one drink tonight. I need to head home. But maybe we can grab one together next week?”
“Sure. I’d like that.” Becca seemed not only surprised but mystified. Joey didn’t blame her. She couldn’t imagine trying to decode those mixed signals. That was all her fault, and she still wasn’t being all that clear. But she needed to do things in the proper time and correctly.
“That would be grand.”
“Grand?” Becca said with a raised eyebrow.
“Sometimes I say grand, Becca.”
“No you don’t. Another new leaf?”
“Maybe,” she said, trying to play coy and mysterious and wondering how effective she was. She had an inkling, not very. “I’ll let you find Bruno. Have a nice night.”
Becca took one last lingering look at Joey, her outfit, and the whole setup before wandering away seeming perplexed.
Five days later when Becca made her way through the lobby of The Jade to find Joey sitting on one of the couches, she blinked in surprise. “Joey?”
“Hey, Becca.”
“Well, this is twice in one week. To what do we owe the honor?” Becca wore a belted black dress and heels today. She never disappointed in the fashion department. Yes, these were the things Joey allowed herself to notice again, react to. And God, did she ever have a physical reaction.
“I’m meeting a friend for lunch in the restaurant.” It was a lie. She was not a liar, but she was lying now because a black dress had her flummoxed, and she should have prepared a cover story in advance.
“Oh, in that case, I’ll let the staff know we’re having special guests.”
“Please don’t,” Joey said, standing so that she looked Becca in the eye. “I might get stood up and then it’s a whole thing.”
“Oh. So a date.” Becca’s face fell whether she realized it or not. Joey couldn’t help but celebrate.
“Not at all. No. Definitely not a date. Very much a friend thing only.”
“Okay, okay,” Becca said with a grin. Perhaps Joey had put up too much of a protest.
“How was your week?” Joey asked. She was genuinely curious. She hated not knowing the basics of Becca’s life that she used to be so intimately connected to. “Did you remember to turn off your straightener?” It had been a running joke when they tried to leave the house together.
“I only went back to check twice this week.”
Joey placed a hand on her chest. “I’m feeling very proud of you right now. This is a moment.”
They laughed, and when it died, they just stared at each other for a moment. Joey had never felt connected to another person the way she did Becca, and even when she tried to step away, she just…couldn’t. Being near her now, laughing with her, just confirmed all of it.
“What about you? How’s business?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but our visitor rate is up quite a bit.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Becca said and looked up at the ceiling in an I told you so.
“It turns out, maybe you know a thing or two about the hospitality industry. I’m not saying everything, but a thing. Or two things.”
“Josephine Wilder, I think you just admitted to being wrong.”
“Let’s not get carried away.”
“Too late.” This would usually be the point in the conversation when they would sink into a toe-curling kiss, but the barrier she’d put between them remained.
“About that drink,” Joey said, feeling the twinge of energy that meant she was taking a tentative step forward. “I was thinking Thursday.” She lifted a shoulder. “We can…catch up.”
“I would need to move some meetings around that could go late, but I think I can make that work. What about that new place on Center Street. Truth or Dare, I think it’s called.”
Joey swallowed. “Well, doesn’t that just sound ominous.”
“Well”—Becca flashed a smile—“I’m feeling brave. Meet you there at seven?”
“Yeah,” Joey said, sliding her hand into her back pocket. “I’ll see you then.” She nodded, turned, and headed for the door.
“Joey?”
“Yep?” She turned back.
“Your lunch with your friend?”
She waved Becca off. “All an act to get to see you.” She shrugged. “I can’t stand lying.”
Becca seemed to suppress a smile. “Understood. See you soon, Joey.”
* * *
“Do you think she’s courting you?” Stephen asked with a squint.
“I think she is,” Monty said and put his hands behind his head. “This is a full-on courting scheme. She wants you back. Bad.”
After work on Wednesday, Becca needed a sounding board, so she’d driven out to the ranch unannounced and crashed the cowboys’ dinner. Luckily, they always made a ton of food and didn’t hesitate to set her a place at their table. With the after-dinner dishes pushed to the side, the three of them sat around the table with Sky and two of the boys’ rescues lounging nearby.
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” She shook her head. “Joey knows what she wants, and it doesn’t seem to be a relationship with me. She’s made that clear.” She sat back and reflected with a shake of her head. “Is my heart broken? Yes. More than I can describe. But, guys? It’s like she’s peeking through the door again.”
“Showing up places where you might be? All classic I-Miss-You signs. She’s definitely peeking.”
“She’ll be stealing looks at you from behind a potted plant next.”
Stephen nodded. “Through a newspaper with eye holes cut out.”
“Binoculars across a crowded restaurant. I think her heart longs for yours.”
“Well, she’s not the only one with a few longings.” She scrubbed her face. “I miss her so much it physically hurts.” She gestured to her body. “All over. I’m tense and unhappy and there’s only one reason.”
“Well,” Monty said, getting serious, “how do you feel about this new turn of events?”
“I have questions, for sure. I mean”—she lifted her hand and let it drop—“what’s changed? The biggest part of me is ecstatic, because I hate life without her. My house doesn’t feel the same, I still reach for Joey in the middle of the night, and returning to an existence where I don’t have plans to see her, to kiss her, to hold her has been awful.”
“I sense a but.”
She nodded. “But is she ready? Or is she just going to slam another
door in my face, because I don’t want to be right back here again in a few months.” She shook her head. “It’s not even that I fault her. She’s been through so much. I don’t want to be just another thing on her list of problems.”
Stephen pointed at Monty. “You sound a lot like this guy once did when he wasn’t sure if he could ever get me to settle down.”
Monty grinned. “Now look at you, a ranch, a husband, and too many dogs. See, Becca? It can happen. Keep an open mind and be patient. That’s my advice. Life is a long game. Enjoy the drink with her. No big deal.”
“No big deal,” she repeated and ran her finger around the rim of her glass, knowing that everything about Joey Wilder was.
* * *
Sitting across from Becca at Truth or Dare, Joey had to remind herself that things were different now, and not to fall into old patterns. Slow was the name of the game. She would keep her hands to herself and not so much as touch Becca’s foot with her own under the table, something she would have done several times throughout a meal just a couple months back.
She took a deep breath once Becca settled on the bench across from her in the cozy private leather booth. She ignored the fact that Becca’s hair seemed a little windblown and that she still wore her white dress shirt from work, one of Joey’s favorite looks on her.
“What are we drinking? Winchester 85s?” Becca asked with a wink.
“I ordered a red blend from Stormfoot Cellars. I hope that’s okay. If not, I’ll drink them both,” Joey said with a laugh.
“No, that’s perfect. You know what I like, and I prefer you always order the wine, being the expert that you are.” They both seemed to catch the use of the word always. Becca seemed to regret it and the conversation fell silent as they studied the decor. Joey, hating the silence because it gave her too much time to overthink, jumped in.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve been weird lately. I practically kicked you out of my house and then started drinking strange cocktails and loitering in your place of business.”
Becca smiled the killer smile that made Joey’s knees weak. “I did wonder.” The glasses arrived and that gave Joey a moment to sip and gather her thoughts.
Finally, she pointed at her face. “I’m someone who seems put together on the outside, but sometimes I’m a mess”—she held up a hand—“and I know you know that because you’ve seen it, but what I mean is that I hesitate to trust. That’s what I did with you. I allowed myself to enjoy us,” she said, gesturing between them, “but I held back enough so that when something went wrong, I had one foot easily out the door.”
“Yeah, I’d say you were out like that.” Becca snapped her fingers and Joey winced. “Not that I didn’t play a part. I have a lot of regrets about how I handled the business deal, but I didn’t expect to be kicked to the curb over it.”
“God, it sounds so awful when you put it that way.”
“It was,” Becca said. Joey could see it all over her face, and the hurt looking back at Joey slashed at her. She hated that she’d put that hurt there. She downed half her glass of wine. Becca raised her eyebrows.
Joey shook her head vehemently. “It’s not who I want to be. Simone crashed her grocery cart into mine and kinda yelled at me about all I’m giving up, and even though I crashed mine back because who does that? I agree with her. I’m blowing it for myself because I’m a coward.” She took another big gulp, the glass almost finished. “So if I’m going to do this, I’m going to do this right. The correct way, without guards up, or feet out the door, or holding on to the idea that you’re going to desert me at any moment.”
Becca seemed to be trying to decode the rambling confession, which even Joey could hear made little sense. “Simone crashed her cart into yours?”
Joey nodded. “Right? And there was nary a Biddy to report on it.”
A pause. Becca lifted her glass and sat back against the leather booth. “Are you saying that you regret ending things with me?”
She finished her glass, set it down, and nodded. “Listen, Becca, I don’t even know if you’d give me a second chance or even the time of day next week. What I do know is that I’d do so much differently this time. I’d commit to the idea and work through the issues and problems that would arise.”
“Because they definitely would,” Becca noted. “That’s part of life. Of relationships, marriage. People have problems and disagreements all the time.”
She nodded. “Right, I know that innately, I just…”
“Self-protect.”
Joey nodded. “Marriage?” She met Becca’s gaze. “You could see yourself getting married one day?”
“It’s what I’ve always wanted, imagined for myself.” She stared at the table for a moment and seemed to make a decision to say more. “You’re the only person who I’ve actually imagined it happening with.”
Joey blinked and could have been knocked over by a feather. “Me?”
“You.”
She heard Simone’s words loud and clear in her mind. You’re very easy to love.
She swallowed and gathered her courage. “Do you think one day you could fall in love with me?”
“Oh, Joey.” She shook her head slowly. “I already am.”
“Really?” She couldn’t quite believe it, but then, that had been her exact problem all along.
Becca nodded. “I’ve been trying not to be for months now. It’s not really a choice.” She raised a hand. “It’s just the state of the world, you know?”
“What do you want to do about that?”
“I don’t know,” Becca said and rolled her lips in.
Joey hadn’t said the words back, and Becca had to have noticed. She felt it, though. With everything in her, Joey knew she’d fallen in love with Becca somewhere between that shoulder bump in town and reading romance novels on the couch. It had snuck up on her, but it was there all the same. She opened her mouth, but the important words wouldn’t come. They were stuck. She pivoted. “I do. I know what we do about it, I mean.”
“And what’s that?”
“We take a walk. You tell me about everything I’ve missed since that day in my kitchen. We put one foot in front of the other.”
Becca held on to her skepticism, that much Joey could tell, but she agreed to take that walk. Becca told her about New Orleans and about Skywalker’s new habit of stealing her socks and stuffing them, still in a ball, under the couch. She heard about The Jade’s fantastic word of mouth and killer reviews on Tripadvisor. She felt like she’d missed so much. Too much.
They strolled in silence a bit, and Joey turned to Becca, feeling nostalgic for simpler times. “This reminds me a little bit of that night we got the ice cream floats.”
“The night you had me scootin’ across the dance floor in the name of getting to know the town better? Yes, I remember it well.”
Joey laughed. “That was a really good night for me. I feel like we started to get to know each other.”
Becca took Joey’s hand in hers. “We did.” It felt so natural that Joey didn’t even register the feeling at first. When she did, warmth spread from the center of her chest outward, and she smiled.
“Do you know what I’m looking forward to?” Joey asked.
“Tell me.”
“The first signs of spring. The new growth you see happening all over this place. It’s like the turning of a page, a fresh start, just like the growing season. It makes me wonder if that’s possible for us.”
“Maybe,” Becca said with a noncommittal gaze, but she was here with Joey, and she loved her, and that had to count for something. They’d made the loop through the center of town and back to their cars. Joey approached Dusty slowly, clenching and unclenching her fists, knowing that this was the moment she needed to take a step forward, declare herself in some way, but that emotional execution proved too complicated.
Instead, she turned to Becca and met her gaze and held it. Through their silent connection, she did her best to communicate everything that
was in her heart, and when she wasn’t sure that had worked, she took a step into Becca’s space, and once she was there? She felt home. Joey slid her hand beneath Becca’s cheek and leaned in slowly, brushing her lips over Becca’s. She closed her eyes in unmatched surrender as everything in her world seemed to right itself. Becca kissed her back, deepening the kiss. Joey’s heart leapt, and the noisiest parts of her quieted in perfect acquiescence.
“Good night, Joey,” Becca said and took one step back.
She blinked, gathering herself. Her instinct was to reach out for Becca and never let go. But she let her walk away, back to her car. That had been her chance to right everything between them. Yet she’d let the moment slip tragically through her fingers.
Chapter Twenty-one
With Becca’s kiss still on her lips, haunting her, Joey tossed the blanket off her very alert body and stepped into a pair of plaid sleep pants that matched the solid blue T-shirt she’d worn to bed. Next, she found her boots and coat, and headed down the stairs for the door. She needed strength, and she felt a tugging she could no longer ignore.
She didn’t take a flashlight. She knew this property as well as she knew herself and trudged through the cold of February until she made it to the cellar where she’d stashed her dad’s old tackle box in a cabinet after handing over his office to Madison. She opened the small door, flipped open the lid to the box, and blindly grabbed for the first strip of paper she saw.
She nearly heard his voice when she read the words: Pour your heart out. It’s not good keeping it bottled up. J.W.
It was his message to her. She knew it without question. She held the paper to her heart and closed her eyes for several seconds as the understanding washed over her. It was as if her father was right there with her, giving her that pesky nudge she needed when she was being a stubborn kid, dragging her feet about doing her homework. She read the words again and again, each time letting go a little bit more, loosening her grip and relinquishing control.
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