by Rachel Lacey
“I can’t,” she managed, even as her lips met Josie’s for another blistering kiss. “We can’t. You signed a contract with the network. I could lose my job.”
“Oh.” Josie’s hands, which had been toying with the waistband of Eve’s jeans, stilled as she lifted her head to meet her eyes. “It’s in the contract?”
She nodded, sliding her hand out from under Josie’s shirt and instead reaching up to tuck a lock of turquoise hair behind her ear. “I’m bound by a code of conduct. I’m not technically supposed to have any contact with you outside of work until filming is complete.”
“That’s only next Friday,” Josie said, not making any effort to pull away.
“Yes.”
“So, after that…” Josie’s arms tightened around her.
“We’ll see,” she hedged, because Josie was almost certainly looking for more out of their relationship than Eve was. But she’d cross that bridge when—and if—they got to it.
“Since we’re already here, I don’t see any harm in kissing just a little bit more,” Josie said as her lips roamed over Eve’s neck, licking and sucking, each stroke of her tongue sending bolts of fire through Eve’s core.
“No harm,” she echoed, helpless to pull away, completely lost to Josie’s touch.
“Eve,” she murmured as her tongue traced circles over a tender spot on her neck.
“Yes?” she gasped, hips arching against Josie’s.
“Tell me why you hate bars.”
And there was the metaphorical bucket of water she’d needed. Reality washed over Eve in a harsh, cold wave, and she shuddered, pulling free of Josie’s grasp. “Not tonight.”
“Yes, tonight.” Josie gripped her hands. “We may not get another moment like this. Please.”
Eve wrapped her arms around herself, acknowledging the truth of Josie’s words. She didn’t owe her this, didn’t owe her anything, but in this moment, lips swollen and pulse racing from their kisses, it felt like she did. If Josie had asked for anything else, Eve would have given it to her in a heartbeat, but she’d asked for the one thing Eve held closest to her heart. “I…”
“Please,” she whispered, brushing a hand over Eve’s cheek.
She cleared her throat, tasting the bitter truth on her tongue. “It’s because my wife was killed by a drunk driver.”
11
Josie reeled as Eve’s words registered. Of all the things she might say, Josie had never imagined anything as horrible, as painful, or as personal. She stepped forward, pulling Eve into her arms. “Eve…I am so sorry.”
Eve was stiff against her, as cold as she’d been hot moments before. “The driver was on his way home from a bar where he’d been overserved. He never should have been behind the wheel.”
“No, he shouldn’t,” Josie agreed. “That’s…it’s awful.”
“I don’t talk about it,” Eve said, pulling free to walk to the railing. “It happened a very long time ago.”
“Can’t have been that long,” Josie said gently. Eve was only a few years older than she was. A widow. Jesus Christ. That was tragic. And unexpected. She tried to imagine a young, happily married Eve. What had her life been like then? Had her wife’s death caused her to turn into the icy workaholic that Josie had first met last week, or had she always been this way?
“Long enough,” Eve responded, but her voice cracked just slightly, and it was all Josie could do not to hug her again, to pull her close and never let her go.
“I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t,” Eve said, sounding more like herself now. “No one does. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep it to yourself.”
“Yeah, of course.”
Eve pressed a hand against the small of her back, turning away. An old injury, she’d told Josie.
“You were in the car with her,” she whispered.
“I was.” She glanced at Josie and sighed, as if resigning herself to tell the rest of the story. “I fractured my back, and they had to fuse two of my vertebrae together to stabilize it.”
“Jesus,” Josie whispered.
“It’s fine,” Eve said with a slight shake of her head.
“No, it’s not.”
Eve looked down at her hands. “Lisa was a teacher, but she tended bar part-time too. If you want the truth, that’s the reason I avoid bars now. They stir up a lot of memories for me, nights when I hung out with Lisa while she worked.”
Eve’s wife was a bartender.
“That makes a lot of sense,” Josie said.
“We were young, and we needed the extra cash. I had insisted she quit, because…” She drew in a deep, shaky breath, turning her face away from Josie.
Josie walked up behind her, leaning into her, offering silent support.
“That night, I had a few beers while Lisa worked, so she drove us home. We were T-boned on the driver’s side. She died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.” Eve spoke in a monotone, her voice gone hoarse.
“I’m so sorry. I really thought, well, I don’t know what I thought you were going to tell me, but it wasn’t this. But I really appreciate you trusting me with it, and I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
Eve kept her back turned. “Now you know.”
“Thank you,” she whispered into the soft depths of Eve’s hair.
She nodded, tension radiating off her like a force field slowly pushing Josie away.
“Hey.” She tugged at Eve’s hand, not liking the wall she felt going up between them after everything they’d shared.
“I need to go home,” Eve said, spinning on her heel and striding toward the door that led downstairs.
“Wait,” Josie called, hurrying after her. “Eve, wait a damn minute.”
She paused at the door, looking over her shoulder at Josie. Her eyes were dry, but Josie saw the raw emotion, the pain still lurking in their dark depths. She closed the distance between them and pulled Eve into her arms, squeezing her tight. Eve softened in her embrace, just for a moment, before pulling away.
“I left the kittens in my apartment,” she said. “I didn’t plan to be out this long.”
“Okay.” Josie brought her lips to Eve’s, needing to end on something good, to feel the heat and the connection between them one last time before they said good night. Eve kissed her back, lips warm and seeking, as if she needed this moment as much as Josie did. “Night.”
“Good night.” Eve slipped through the door.
Josie let her go, deciding to stay up here another minute to collect herself before she went back down to the bar. She pressed her fingertips against her lips as she gazed out at the Manhattan skyline gleaming in the distance. Holy shit. That was one of the hottest kisses of her life, the kind of kiss she wanted to drown in forever and had every cell in her body screaming for more. Who knew the frosty Eve could light her on fire like that?
Josie knew. She’d known almost from the moment they met. She’d sensed a current running between them and the fire burning behind Eve’s cool veneer. That woman had so many layers, Josie could spend a lifetime unwrapping her and maybe never reach her core. And yet, she’d give anything for the chance to try, if only Eve would let her.
On Saturday, Josie opened Swanson’s for business as usual, except…nothing felt like business as usual. And not just because she was still reliving her rooftop kiss with Eve. It was more like she was seeing her bar through a new lens. She watched a rowdy group of twenty-something guys in the back, telling crude jokes over spilled beer.
Those aren’t your customers, Eve had told her before the fight broke out last night. Was she right? Josie panned her gaze around Swanson’s, trying to imagine it as Eve had painted it for her, an upscale bar with soft lighting and fancy cocktails.
A gay bar.
Was that what Josie wanted? She didn’t not want it. In fact, the longer she stood here, the more she thought it might be exactly what she wanted. Dragonfly. It was personal and meaningful. How did Eve know her so wel
l in such a short time? Was she really that good at her job or did some of it have to do with the connection between them?
Maybe a little of both.
By the time Josie locked up the bar that night, she knew she would say yes. She was ready to put her future squarely in Eve’s hands. Eve’s wonderfully soft, capable hands. And yes, Josie really needed to get a grip, at least until filming wrapped next Friday…
Even though it was four in the morning and Eve was no doubt asleep, Josie sent her a quick text before she lost her nerve. I’ll do it. All of it. (and I’m sad there’s not a dragonfly emoji, but pretend I attached one.)
And then she went to bed. When she woke just before noon on Sunday, Eve’s name gleamed on her screen.
Good. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 10 for the taping.
Right, then. Josie gulped at the finality of it all. Today was Swanson’s last day in business. She went through the day in a daze, telling as many of her regulars as she could about the upcoming changes to the bar. By the looks on their faces, she didn’t think she’d see Sal or Dougie again, which she’d already known but was still unspeakably sad about. They both hugged her and wished her well on their way out the door.
When she closed that night, she put out a sign explaining that the bar would be closed until its relaunch on Friday. A wave of intense nostalgia washed over her as she walked through the darkened bar on the way to her apartment. Swanson’s as she’d known it, as her dad had known it and his parents before him, would cease to exist after tonight.
“I hope you would approve of what I’ve done, Dad,” she whispered into the empty bar, sliding her hands over the weathered counter. “I think you would, because I think mostly you wanted me to be happy, but it’s a big change.”
So big, she was apparently talking to herself. She smiled, tapping her knuckles against the wood. Swanson’s was evolving, much like Josie herself, symbolized by the dragonfly on her shoulder and soon to be on the sign over the door.
She went upstairs and climbed into bed, expecting to fall straight to sleep. She’d made peace with this. She was ready to embrace the changes she’d put into motion. But as she lay in her darkened bedroom with Nigel curled over her feet, her mind spun endlessly with a combination of nerves and excitement.
She finally dozed off as the sun rose outside her window, sleeping for a pitiful few hours before her alarm went off to rouse her for the day.
“This is it,” she whispered to Nigel as he rubbed his face against hers, purring loudly. Eve and her crew would be here in a few hours to tape their segment, and then Josie had the rest of the week off. She needed to make herself scarce and let the Do Over team do their thing until the grand reopening at the end of the week.
Eve.
Josie’s heart beat faster at the thought of seeing her again. She let that energy fuel her as she climbed out of bed, showered, and dressed. She blew her hair out straight and put a few loose waves in it with the curling iron, because hey, she was going to be on TV. And if she happened to look good for Eve at the same time, that was just an added bonus.
The hair and makeup team arrived at nine, further sculpting her hair and applying the extra makeup she’d need to go before the cameras. How did people do this every day? The false lashes made her want to claw at her eyes, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, she had to admit the end result was worth the discomfort…at least for today.
Tomorrow, she’d go back to her minimalist makeup and messy hair, but right now, she was ready for her moment in the spotlight. In fact, she was feeling one hundred percent more confident about her interview with Eve than she had been on Friday. And speaking of Eve, she pushed through the front door promptly at ten, box of kittens in her arms.
Josie met her halfway to take them from her. She caught Eve’s eye, smiling. “Hi.”
“Hello.” Eve wore a black knit dress, accented by a long silver necklace and matching earrings, a warning flashing in her eyes.
As if Josie had forgotten. They couldn’t mention Friday night, at least not while the crew was around. Still, she took a long moment to soak in the sight of Eve, looking good enough to eat in that dress and her camera-ready makeup, smelling like some kind of expensive perfume that made Josie want to press her face to Eve’s neck and just breathe her in. Eve cleared her throat, and Josie realized she’d been staring…probably too long. Definitely too long. She dropped her gaze to the box of kittens in her arms. “Oh my God, wow. They’ve grown.”
Four pairs of baby-blue eyes stared back, alert and curious. Phantom, Pippin, Hamilton, and Blanche, their little theater kittens.
“They have,” Eve agreed. “Not surprising, considering how much they’ve been eating.”
“I’ll take them upstairs,” Josie said, hoping Eve would follow so she could have a moment alone with her, but Eve merely nodded before walking over to talk to a member of the film crew.
Fine. She could act like nothing had happened, but she had opened up to Josie on Friday night. She’d held Eve in her arms, had kissed her until she moaned and pulled at Josie’s clothes in desperation. They might not talk about it, but they would both be thinking about it. There was no way Eve wasn’t thinking about it, no matter how cool and calm she looked right now.
So Josie took the kittens upstairs to her apartment. She set the box in its usual spot in her living room, pausing for a moment to watch them. Now that they were no longer being jostled around in transit, they were in the process of snuggling in an adorable pile to go back to sleep. According to the schedule taped to the side of the box, Eve had fed them an hour ago.
“We’ve got to figure out a new arrangement for you guys,” Josie murmured, reaching in to rub them as they got settled. They needed a bigger living space. Soon, they’d need a litter box and food and water bowls. They couldn’t keep traveling the city with Eve in this box.
Nigel strolled through the room, twining himself around Josie’s legs as if to remind her of his presence. She reached down to rub him.
The distinctive sound of heels on the stairs met her ears, and she turned just as Eve appeared in the doorway. She stopped there, leaning one hip against the doorframe, expression casual. “I just wanted to remind you to act surprised when we shoot our segment downstairs, as if you’re hearing it all for the first time.”
“I know,” Josie told her. “I’m not much of an actress, but I’m sure I can manage to look surprised.”
“Okay.” Eve turned as if to go.
“Wait.” Josie closed the distance between them in several quick steps, not even sure what she was going to say, but once she was standing in front of her, she realized she’d just needed to feel the connection that ran between them whenever they stood this close. It hummed through her, causing goose bumps to pebble her skin as she looked into Eve’s eyes. “You can leave them here this week.”
“What?” Eve’s gaze dropped to Josie’s lips.
“The kittens. Swanson’s is going to be closed all week, so I should have plenty of time to look after them. I need to get them set up in a bigger space anyway, and this way, I can make a new YouTube video about them too.”
“Oh,” Eve said, glancing over Josie’s shoulder at the box of kittens. “Okay.”
“You know, for someone who endlessly harassed me about taking them off your hands, you don’t seem all that excited that I’m finally able to help,” Josie teased, reaching out to thread her fingers through Eve’s.
Eve’s chin went up, a muscle in her jaw clenching. “Believe me, I am.”
“You won’t miss them even a tiny bit?” Josie gave her fingers a squeeze.
“I’ll be so busy this week, I’m not sure how I would have managed them anyway,” Eve said, a deflection if Josie had ever heard one, but she’d never expected Eve to admit being fond of them. Josie didn’t really need to hear her say the words. She’d seen the evidence for herself every time Eve interacted with them.
“Well, you can feel free to stop in and visit us any time.”
“Mm.” Eve’s tongue slid over her bottom lip, pink against pink. Josie tugged at her hand where their fingers were still interlaced, and their bodies swayed together, so close she could feel Eve’s warmth and see the pulse pounding in the hollow of her throat.
Heat bloomed in Josie’s belly, radiating through her core. Her heart thumped wildly against her ribs, and she felt herself leaning closer, drawn to Eve almost against her own will, needing to feel her lips, even if just for a moment.
Eve inhaled sharply, pupils dilating as Josie dipped her head. “Don’t,” she whispered, just before Josie’s lips met hers.
“Eve…”
“I told you, we can’t do this.” Eve’s eyes slid shut, chest heaving, breasts dangerously close to Josie’s on each inhale.
“Not today, anyway.” Josie should take a step back. She knew she should, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Not today,” Eve echoed. And because she was apparently going to have to be the mature one in this situation, she turned, glancing over her shoulder at Josie as she headed for the stairs. “I’ll see you downstairs for the taping.”
12
“I’m confident we have a winning strategy in place for your relaunch,” Eve told Josie as cameras filmed them from three different angles. She was confident. She never moved forward with a plan she wasn’t one hundred percent sure about. But this was different, because Josie was different. Eve had let herself get personally involved, and now she genuinely cared if Josie liked her plan. More than that, she cared whether or not Josie succeeded.
“I trust you,” Josie said, green flecks in her eyes gleaming with the reflection of the canopy lights in front of her. She was acting, putting on a show for the cameras, but there was something incredibly earnest in her expression at the same time. “And I’m really excited about your vision for Dragonfly.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Cut,” her director called. “That should do it. I think we’ve got everything we need.”
