Tangled Up In You (Fleur de Lis Book 1)

by A. L. Vincent

“But.”

  “But, nothing. That’s his bad behavior. That has nothing to do with you,” Noah said. “You can’t control that.”

  “But it’s my fault.”

  “No, Emily. It’s not. As far as I can tell, you did absolutely the right thing by coming home. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

  She gave him a shaky smile. “You are right.”

  “Yes. I am.” He smiled back. “You okay?”

  “I will be,” she said.

  “Yes. You will.” He reached out then and pulled her close. Emily rested her head on his shoulder for a second and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, knowing then that he was right. She would be okay.

  ***

  The rest of the group was gathered around the fire pit when they returned. Someone had gone ahead and built a fire.

  Joey looked up to see Noah and Emily walking up. “Hey, y’all! We were waiting on you guys to eat. The food’s all ready.”

  “The crab dip!” Emily exclaimed. She had forgotten about it.

  “I got it, cher,” Glinda said.

  “And I took care of your pot.” Ryder grinned. “Looks to me like it needs some more seasoning. It’s not hot enough. It needs some spice.”

  Emily smiled. “My pot is fine.” Seasoned almost perfectly, she thought as she looked up at Noah. Ryder was right. It could use some more spice. And Noah was the one to add it.

  After they finished, Joey asked, “S’mores, anyone?”

  Glinda yawned. “I think I’ll pass, but thank you. I think I’ll be heading back up the house.”

  Daniel nodded also.

  “I’d love some s’mores,” Emily said after Daniel and Glinda had said their goodbyes.

  She hadn’t had s’mores since she was a kid and had gone camping with her grandparents. They had stayed up making wishes on falling stars and stuffing themselves with chocolate and marshmallows. She remembered one particular wish when she was sixteen. She had wished that Noah Devereaux would kiss her. She smiled. She looked up at the stars and again wished that Noah Devereaux would kiss her. Damn the consequences. It was time she had something good in her life.

  Interrupting her thoughts, Joey tossed her the bag of marshmallows. Noah handed her a weathered stick with a point whittled at the end. She scooted closer to the fire so she could reach. Noah reached for the bag and soon all of them were roasting their marshmallows in relative silence.

  “Damn it!” Carly said, shaking out the burning mass on the end of the stick.

  “Seriously, Carly?” Joey said. “How do you mess up s’mores?”

  He grabbed the stick. “Here, let me do it.”

  She snatched it back. “I can do it.”

  Emily glanced at Noah, who only shook his head and sipped his beer. Oscar and Sadie, done with their beach inspection and finding all satisfactory, came back to the fire and settled in between Noah and Emily. Oscar sniffed at the stick with the marshmallow on it, but finding it lacking, laid his head down.

  Carly and Joey finished their argument and settled back into their seats. Carly stubbornly ate the burnt s’more while Joey laughed.

  “I told you to let me do it,” he said.

  She glared at him and finished the s’more. She licked the gooey marshmallow off her fingers then looked at the group. “So, how ’bout we all do a bar crawl? What do you think?”

  Noah said, “Why do we have to do anything? Let’s just relax for now.”

  “Okay,” Carly said. “But soon. We need to take Emily out and show her the sights.”

  “We will,” promised Noah.

  The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Ryder left early. It was ladies night at 31. And they had a live band. So that just left the four of them. Soon, lulled by the fire, the food, and the company, Emily found herself stifling a yawn.

  “It is getting late,” Noah said. “I think I’m about ready to turn in myself. Joey? You want to help me get this stuff cleaned up?”

  The four of them made quick work of the mess, and soon Carly and Joey were hugging Emily bye and heading home. Noah walked Emily up the stairs to her door. Stopping in front of the door, Emily stopped and looked up at the stars. She wished Noah Devereaux would kiss her.

  “Noah?” Emily said. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  Emily looked up into his eyes. Emily saw his eyes darken in the pale light of the moon. He leaned in. She was going to get her wish.

  Whore! She heard again.

  Involuntarily, Emily flinched and turned away. Noah took a step back. She could see the confusion.

  “Noah, Noah, I’m sorry.”

  A sad smile flickered across his lips. “It’s okay, Emily. Good night.”

  Emily watched as he whistled for Sadie and walked away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emily curled up on the worn sofa, her feet tucked underneath. Her mom’s faded blanket was wrapped around her legs. She had a cup of mint tea in one hand and a paperback novel in the other. The house was quiet after everyone had gone home and Emily had grabbed a book, hoping it would take her mind off Noah and that almost kiss.

  A voracious reader in high school, she had been the librarians’ greatest love and greatest challenge. She very rarely met a book she didn’t like. Growing up poor, she had been able to escape to places she’d never be able to go. They also helped her escape during those awkward teen years. In books, she got to escape the shyness and self-consciousness. She was the confident, brave heroines in the books. She was Scarlett O’Hara, Jo March, or Cherry Valance. The irony of the situation with Noah tonight was not lost on her.

  Unfortunately, the book she had tonight was hitting too close to home. The quest mirrored hers in such a way it made her uncomfortable. It was not a book that made her relax. She grabbed another book from the pile. She needed a good murder mystery, but there were none. Murder, clues, arrest. Cut and dried. No shades of gray for her.

  Oscar stirred on the floor, content after a long walk, run really, on the beach with Sadie. She knew he had to be happier here. Not stuck in some boring back yard for hours with no attention.

  Was she happy? She thought about it for a second. Not really happy as much as content. Peaceful. Not happy, yet, but she’d take it. For now anyway.

  She sipped the tea and opened the next book. It was a historical romance. One with a busty brunette in an antebellum dress seductively draped over a roguish looking man. A grand plantation house stood in the background. When she was in the mood to read romance, she secretly liked those best. She had always loved stories of the South. If time travel existed, that was a time she would visit. Of course, after two hours of big dresses, sweat, and no air conditioning, she would probably come right back.

  Three chapters into the book, she slammed it shut with a frustrated sigh. She found herself resenting the main character. Found herself envying the character for having this fine, dark-headed man pursue her. That didn’t happen in real life. In real life, there weren’t any fairy tale happy endings.

  The phone rang, shattering the silence. She picked it up from off the blanket. It was Eddie. Again.

  Eddie: Hore.

  The word flashed on the phone screen. A text she had no choice but to see. And his poor spelling indicated his drunken state.

  She resisted the urge to throw the phone, pocketing it instead. She slipped shoes on and headed out the door. Eager to escape, running away from Eddie. Again.

  Whore echoed in her head as she dropped down and sat on the sand, wrapping her arms around her knees.

  There were no screeching birds tonight. The waves made a soft splash against the sand as if they were aware that it was night and it was time for quiet. Occasionally, a loud burst of laughter from customers of the inn would break through. She supposed she could have gone in there, been around people. But she wanted to be alone, needed to be alone.

  The sea breeze blew a lock of hair across her face that she tucked behind an ear. She had always wanted to
go to the beach with Eddie, but there had never been time when he was working. He had been driven then, ready to climb the ladder. Working to make a name for himself. There was never time to get away. Then, after that non-promotion, she hadn’t been able to tear him away from a new mistress, the slender brown bottle that made him forget he had problems.

  Then, there hadn’t been any money. Broke and exhausted, she hadn’t even thought of a vacation. Eddie was the last person she would’ve wanted to vacation with. Who wanted to spend a vacation babysitting a drunk?

  Whore echoed in her mind again. She felt a tear well up. Then another. Then another. She didn’t resist this time. She let them fall.

  ***

  Noah

  Noah was standing on the deck of the houseboat, nursing a Jack and Coke and lost in thought. His arms rested on the rails. He watched as the sweat from the glass dripped down to the inky water below. He thought of Emily. The hurt in her brown eyes he saw too often. How he loved it when he could get her to drop that guard and laugh. That woman did not have a lot to smile about. He could tell. It was written all over her face, especially in her eyes. He could definitely relate. He’d been there himself. For years, after Iraq, after Benjamin’s death, he had that same haunted look. And that same empty feeling inside.

  There was movement on the beach. A solitary figure. That was unusual. Usually it was couples strolling along the beach, stealing kisses in the moonlight. Driving Noah into his house, cursing them for interrupting his evening. He had no desire to be a voyeur. Not with his nonexistent love life. And not after Emily’s rejection.

  He recognized Emily in the pale moonlight. She sank down onto the sand, head lowered, body curled up. She looked like she had lost a best friend.

  Should he go to her? Ask her if she was okay? She was such a private person. Would she think it was an intrusion? He hesitated.

  Then she brushed something off her cheeks, she was crying. And his mind was made up.

  ***

  Emily

  Emily heard the slow scrunch of footsteps approaching on the sand. She sniffed and brushed away the tears with a frustrated hand. Aggravated someone was intruding. When she saw Noah, she didn’t know if she should be relieved or irritated. Especially after the way they had left things earlier.

  He didn’t say anything. He just plopped down on the sand beside her, remaining silent. No hello, no how you doin’.

  He reached an arm around and pulled her close to his side. She rested her head on his shoulder, accepting the comfort he was offering. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “You okay?” he asked finally.

  “I will be,” she said. And she would be. Eventually.

  “Yes, you will be.” He tightened his hold on her slightly, giving her a one-armed hug. He smelled good. Like whiskey and salty sea air. He was shoeless; the ends of his jeans were slightly tattered. He looked like the stereotypical beach bum with shaggy, sun-highlighted hair. A light beard shadowed the bottom half of his face. So inconsistent with the military man he must have been a few years ago.

  She should scoot away, but didn’t want to. She wanted to stay exactly where she was. Tucked right next to him, feeling his warmth. Besides, sometimes a girl simply wanted a shoulder to lean on. And what a nice shoulder it was. It was solid. Dependable. She knew she shouldn’t be thinking things like that, it was dangerous. But she didn’t care. At that moment, there was no way she was going to move her head from his shoulder. She had felt all alone for too long.

  Another stray tear escaped, and she brushed it away. Noah still said nothing. He seemed to respect her need for silence. He ran a hand slowly up and down her upper arm, as if trying to keep her warm. It was hard to thaw someone from the inside out though. Especially when the chill had nothing to do with the cool night air.

  Emily shivered a little, and Noah hugged her a little closer.

  “Thank you,” she finally said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I guess I needed this.” Her voice was still shaky and it was irritating.

  “You probably did.”

  “I haven’t really cried in months. Seemed like a waste of time.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “I know.” She shot him a sideways glance. “How did you know I was here, by the way?”

  He pointed to the lights on the boat. “I was having a drink on the deck. I saw you.”

  “Oh.”

  “You want to come join me? Looks like you could use a drink.”

  Tempting, but instead she shook her head. “I think I’ll pass this time. I think I’d just like to go back to my place. Get some sleep.”

  “I understand. Let me walk you home, then.”

  “You don’t have to do that. It’s just down the beach.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it makes me feel like a gentleman. I don’t get to do that too much.”

  She gave a little half chuckle. “I bet.”

  “I swear!” he said, holding a hand out to help her up. “This place is not exactly swarming with beautiful single women.”

  “You’re something else, you know that, Noah?” she said, smiling. She wondered if that was a compliment as she was not a single woman. Yet.

  “That’s what you keep telling me.”

  “Maybe ’cause it’s the truth.”

  He walked with her across the street in silence, stopping in front of her door. “Good night, Emily.”

  “Night, Noah.”

  She stared up at him, nervously grabbing for her hair to cover the scar on her cheek. Noah gently grabbed her hand.

  “Emily, we all have scars. With some of us, you just can’t see them.”

  He stared at her for a moment; she knew he wanted to kiss her. He leaned in close. And kissed her cheek. It was a sweet gesture that left her frustrated.

  “Get some sleep. Things will look so much better in the morning.”

  He turned and left. Leaving her alone. She watched him cross the street to the houseboat, brown hair blowing in the breeze. For some reason, sleep no longer seemed appealing.

  ***

  Noah

  Noah resumed his spot on the deck of the boat. He sipped a drink, feet propped up on the railing. Rock music drifted through the recently installed speakers. The sounds of the water were fine sometimes, but sometimes he just needed music. He had never been fond of silence. Too much silence reminded him of nights in the barren Middle Eastern desert. The nights when the only noise was the rustle from the surrounding soldiers.

  Noah thought of the nights he had spent on the beach when he’d returned. When he’d watched the waves and thought of the past. Now he spent his time on the deck. He’d had his own nights like hers. Still had them occasionally. Certain dates, certain moments, sent him back to this beach, alone and lost in thought. Carly and Joey always left him alone. He preferred it that way. Carly and Joey would hang out together. Joey would be there for Carly as he always had been. And Noah, the oldest, would take care of himself.

  He heard footsteps on the pier. It was Joey. Too heavy for Carly. And no flip-flop sound. That woman wore sandals almost 365 days a year. He had long ago grown tired of fussing.

  Joey rounded the corner. “Hey, man. Saw your light on. Thought I’d swing by.”

  “Cool. Grab a beer.”

  Joey ducked into the open door and came back out with a beer. “So, what’s been going on?”

  “Not much,” Noah said. “What’s Carly up to tonight? She at home?”

  “Yeah. She’s going through old pictures and I can hear her crying in the room. I know she’d been pissed if I went in there.”

  Noah wanted to ask Joey when he was finally going to man up and tell Carly how he felt, but had long ago told himself to stay out of it. Hopefully, things would all work out in the end. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. After years of Joey pining after Carly, he wasn’t so sure. Carly, for all her people smarts, was blind when it came to herself. She was crazy about Joey, and
Joey was crazy about her. It made Noah crazy to watch them. He just shook his head.

  They sipped their drinks in silence for a while. Joey stretched his legs out and propped them on the railing too.

  “Oh, I got the rooms booked for that Saints game,” Joey said.

  “Cool. I can’t wait. I need to get away. Carly ever decide if she was going or not?”

  “I don’t know. You know how she is. She’ll make up her mind at the last minute.”

  “She’s going. Carly miss a trip to New Orleans?” Noah said.

  “I know. I know. Maybe you can ask Emily?”

  “Maybe so,” Noah replied. “Been fishing?” he asked, changing the subject.

  Joey sighed. “Not lately. You?”

  “The other morning. Caught some crabs and shrimp. We should go soon. I’m starting to run low on fresh fish.”

  Joey took another sip of beer and was silent. Joey wanted Carly to be with him. But Joey wouldn’t do anything about it. The man was terrified. Terrified it would work out and things would be great. Terrified it would work out and change things. It was a bad situation. Noah did not envy him one bit.

  They sat in silence for a while. Drinking and watching the water. Later, Joey’s phone beeped.

  “That’s Carly.” Joey unfolded himself from the deck chair. “I’m heading home. Thanks for the beer.”

  “No prob, man. Anytime.”

  Noah watched Joey as he walked down the dock. His head was slightly lowered and the familiar bounce in his step was missing. Something was eventually going to have to change in that situation. Noah downed the rest of his drink and whistled for Sadie. He was exhausted.

  ***

  Emily

  Emily climbed into bed. Her eyes felt puffy and swollen, and she still had residual sniffles. Oscar regarded her curiously and jumped into the bed, laying his flat nose on the pillow. She gave him a weak smile and a pat on the head. She was exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. Despite her exhaustion, she felt restless. There were so many things she hadn’t dealt with. Yes, she had a place to stay. But what next? What about Noah and the growing attraction she felt?