Beautiful Dreamer

by Melissa Brayden

  “Elizabeth,” Jill said, lighting up. Oh, how the tables had turned. “We were just talking about you.”

  Devyn flipped around to see Elizabeth not only beaming but looking amazing in jeans, white Converse tennis shoes without socks, and a cream-colored blazer that looked better on her than probably anyone on the planet. Her hair was down and around her shoulders. She tossed it back from her eye and regarded Devyn. “I heard. I was waiting on the answer to the question.” This girl didn’t mess around, but then she never had. There was no playing coy around her. She was a call ’em as you see ’em type, which only kept Devyn on her toes all the more.

  “I abstain,” Devyn said simply and pretended to shop for an important item on the shelf. Would you look at that. They sell pasta in the shape of shells at this supermarket.

  “Well, that’s disappointing,” Elizabeth said, zinging her.

  She bit the inside of her lip at the double meaning, just as Jill took over.

  “She’s a handful, Liz. Always has been.”

  “I’m learning.” Elizabeth took in Jill on her scooter. “You’re looking great. All out and about.”

  Jill posed, fluffing her hair. “Grocery store chic. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. If they ever come out with a women and scooters calendar, I’m submitting.”

  “You’d land that job in a heartbeat,” Elizabeth said, with a hand on her hip. “Well. I’ll let you to get back to shopping. See you tomorrow night.” She squeezed Devyn’s arm as she passed, which pulled a wide-eyed look from Jill.

  Tomorrow night? Jill mouthed.

  Devyn smiled and glanced at the ceiling. “It’s not a Thursday, but it will have to do.”

  “Stop it already.”

  “You first,” Devyn said, and messed up her sister’s hair and they walked on. The next hour consisted of teasing, bickering, and having the best time together. For Devyn, grocery shopping had never been more interesting or fun. She wondered now why she had hers delivered to her back home.

  Did she steal long looks at Elizabeth every time she caught sight of her across the store? Maybe. Did she count the minutes until their Wednesday night date? Absolutely. Only twenty-eight hours to go…

  * * *

  What in the world was a girl supposed to wear for a date with a high-powered real estate broker whose gaze she welcomed, whose attention she sought, but whom she didn’t want to scare the hell off with how interested she’d become in just the few days since they’d first kissed? This was the question that had plagued Elizabeth since the early afternoon, when she began to anticipate their evening.

  She held up a black top and faced Scout. “Too serious? It feels sophisticated, and I’m really not capable of vast sophistication.”

  Scout walked to her and placed a paw on her shoe.

  “Thank you for the support. No black.”

  She shook her head in frustration with herself. Elizabeth was never at a loss for what to wear. She liked clothes a lot and generally wore what made her feel happy, comfortable, or pretty. Today felt noticeably different. The stakes seemed so much higher. She liked the way Devyn looked at her when her eyes got dark and steamy looking. She wanted more of that, craved it even, and the right outfit might make or break her chances.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Jesus,” Elizabeth said, leaping three feet into the air and grabbing her chest. “Where did you come from?”

  KC blinked back at her, adjusting her ponytail. “I let myself in, like I have the nine billion other times I’ve stopped by. But when I called your name, you didn’t answer.” She knelt to give Scout some love.

  “Oh.” Elizabeth paused, remembering KC had just come from a job. “How did things go with Mr. Ivers?”

  “He wanted two Big Macs this time. I talked him out of fries because of that new medication. He’s gotta watch his salt. Delivered with a smile as always.”

  “Well done on the fries. I’m making you employee of the month.”

  “I get a plaque or it didn’t happen.” KC studied her like a science textbook. “What are you doing? Why are there clothes all over the floor of your normally spotless closet?”

  Elizabeth deflated like the sad little balloon she was. “Just looking for something to put on.” She raised her arm at the pile of clothes and let it drop. “I don’t know what to wear and I’m over it.”

  “Calm down.”

  “I can’t.”

  KC tilted her head and dropped her bag. She took a seat on the edge of the bathtub just outside the closet. “Why are you behaving like a fourteen-year-old on your way to a dance?”

  “Because that’s kind of an accurate parallel. You’re going to be a great mom when Gray is older, by the way. Very intuitive.”

  “Thank you. By that same token, fit throwing will not make the clothes magically march their way onto your body. So, let’s talk about the source of your troubles here.”

  Elizabeth sighed, giving in and recapturing her God-given maturity. “I have a date with Devyn Winters tonight, and I want it to go well. There. I just admitted everything to you and the universe. I hope you’re listening,” she yelled to the heavens.

  KC’s smile was slow to start but took up half the room once it got going. “What now? What did you just say?” She cupped her ear. “You’re a saucy person who keeps secrets from your best pal.”

  “I aspire to be that, but my clothes are not cooperating. Look, I’m woefully just a regular person who will never attract a woman.”

  “And Devyn is the woman you want to attract? Why haven’t I been told?”

  Elizabeth waved her off. “It’s new. She’s fun, and impressive, and very pretty, as you know.”

  “Mmm-hmm. What else?”

  “A good kisser.”

  “I will murder you.”

  “You should, but not before this date.”

  A pause.

  “Wear a dress. That one,” KC said, pointing at the soft blue off-the-shoulder number she’d bought on sale at Drew’s Dresses and More. She still didn’t know why she’d fallen for that impulse buy. She’d never worn the thing. Not once.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You know I don’t do dresses well. I wish I did. I like them.”

  “We’ve been over this. You look amazing in dresses but refuse to believe me.”

  Elizabeth blinked, trying to be open minded and accept her friend’s advice. She raised one shoulder. “I guess it can’t hurt to try it on again.” Her phone buzzed from its spot on the bathroom counter. She glanced at the text message on her screen. Dexter.

  Need snax. Coming over.

  “Fabulous. Now Dex is on his way over.” She hadn’t finished the sentence before she heard her fridge crack open in the kitchen. “Correction. He’s already come through my backyard and is now eating my food without preamble.”

  KC lit up. “Oh. Do you have those little cheeses?” She didn’t wait for a response, heading off toward the front of the house to find out for herself. With a deep breath, Elizabeth pulled the casual blue dress off the hanger. Six minutes later, she made her way to her living room where Dexter and KC were huddled over a cheese tray.

  “What do you guys think of this?”

  Dexter paused mid-cracker bite. KC held the cheese knife and turned.

  Dexter whistled. “Whoa. Who is this alluring woman?” He turned to KC. “What is happening? Why is my brain melting?”

  “Told you,” KC said. “You never listen to me.” She turned to Dexter. “Does she ever listen to me?”

  Dexter looked caught. “I don’t even know who this person is, so, no?” KC knocked him in his chest. “No,” he said, more firmly. “And she should. Damn. You’re killin’ it in that dress, Liz.”

  Warmth infused her cheeks. “It’s just a simple dress.”

  “That shows off your legs.” KC shook her head. “How do you have those legs and rarely display them? I’d pay off God for those legs.”

  Elizabeth looked down at them now, feeling lighter.
Pretty, even. She smiled. “You really think so?”

  Dexter sat forward. “I’m gonna abstain from commenting so I’m not the creepy straight dude checking out his friend, but listen to KC. Write down everything she says.”

  Elizabeth came farther into the room and stole a small piece of strawberry Havarti. “Thanks, Dex.”

  KC threw her hands up in the air as if tragically ignored.

  Elizabeth kissed her cheek. “And thank you, Kace-Face.”

  “Welcome,” KC said, grinning up at her. She slapped her ass. “Now go woo your woman.”

  That caught Dexter’s attention. “Who’s the woman? The grocery store chick with the spiky hair? Or are we talking Thalia again?”

  “Devyn Winters,” KC supplied, smoothly.

  Without missing a beat, his face morphed into an impressive smolder. “Hit it.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I will not be presumptuous about tonight. Not my style. I will hope that we have a fantastic time together. That is all.” She turned back to her bedroom, intent on adding the tiniest bit of curl to her hair and maybe a touch of makeup.

  “Hit it,” Dexter said again, in a deeper voice.

  She swallowed back a laugh, because that actually didn’t sound like an awful idea.

  * * *

  Devyn arrived in front of Elizabeth’s home five minutes after she was scheduled to pick her up for their date. It was a tactic she’d employed when showing up to any negotiating table: keep them waiting on you. Stay just beyond their reach, and they’ll want the deal all the more. While she wasn’t sure it extended into her love life, or anyone’s for that matter, she’d arrived late out of habit. With a final adjustment to her jeans, white sleeveless blouse, and purple and peach Chanel scarf, she knocked on the door with confidence.

  Which was short-lived.

  When Elizabeth opened the door, she blinked. And blinked some more.

  “Hi,” Elizabeth said, and waited. She inclined her head to the side and stared at Devyn. “Devyn? I said hi.”

  “Right. Hi.” Devyn rolled her lips in and then remembered to smile. Everything about Elizabeth was beautiful and soft. She wore a blue dress that complemented the vibrant green of her eyes and showed off her bare shoulders. The strappy sandals she wore had a slight heel that made her legs look long and smooth and long again. Devyn tried not to stare but felt fairly certain she’d lost that battle. Elizabeth’s hair was down and parted on the side, and she wore shimmery lip gloss that begged to be kissed right off her face. The combined effect of all of the details, and Elizabeth herself, was mind numbing. “Shall we go?”

  Devyn was apparently short on words.

  Elizabeth quirked her head at Devyn’s silence. “We also never decided where.”

  “Let’s go to a nice restaurant,” Devyn said, rejoining the program in progress. “A quiet one. Know any like that?”

  “Well, there’s a new place at the edge of town that specializes in homemade pasta that everyone has been going on about. They have little candles on all the tables. Oh, and white linen tablecloths. It’s Seth and Carol’s restaurant. Remember Seth? He was the mascot in school. One grade ahead.”

  “Star Studded Seth with the hair?” That was what they’d called him back in the day.

  Elizabeth laughed, and the sight of that smile made Devyn’s breath catch. “Yes, that would be him. Now he’s elbow deep in pasta dough and pulling in money hand over fist. From what I hear, people from neighboring towns are even driving in. It’s been on my to-do list to check it out.”

  “Okay, settled. Let’s go see Seth and eat pasta. But first this.” She couldn’t stop herself. She stepped in and kissed Elizabeth’s lips softly, lingering there and inhaling her fresh cotton scent for a moment before opening her eyes and exhaling. “There. I’m feeling better now, like I can breathe again.”

  “Are you? I’m feeling…buzzed.”

  Devyn chuckled quietly. “What does that mean?”

  “I have no idea.” Elizabeth blinked. “But it’s what I am.”

  She stole one last quick peck. “Shall we go to dinner?”

  “Yes, please,” Elizabeth said, with a pleased grin.

  Devyn wanted to kiss her again but refrained. Dinner was going to be torturous with Elizabeth in that dress, shoulders on display, cleavage slightly glimpsable. She swallowed.

  “I’ll drive.”

  Elizabeth looked amused. “In your tiny clown car? We’re going to go on a date in that thing?”

  Devyn led the way to the Spark. “It’s growing on me.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “I don’t know why, but it suits you.”

  “That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me, and you’re supposed to be the nice one in this duo.” She held the door open for Elizabeth and waited for her to slip inside.

  “Are we going to flirt some more tonight?” Elizabeth asked, once Devyn joined her inside. “As opposed to just kissing?”

  Devyn paused. “You’re not supposed to announce the flirting or talk about the kissing this early. See, that’s the thing you keep glossing over.”

  Elizabeth dialed the radio station to one of the three local ones and away from the Hilton Head station Devyn had managed to pick up. “I can announce them both if I want. Are we going to?”

  Devyn looked over at her as they turned off of her street. “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling affirmative.”

  “Good. Then I love your outfit. It’s chic and very Devyn Winters. You look pretty.”

  “Thank you.” Devyn swallowed at the warmth the compliment brought with it. “I would love to know what ‘very Devyn Winters’ means to you, though.”

  “I have to keep some secrets or you won’t be interested.”

  Devyn passed her a long look that said Impossible.

  “If you’re thinking about kissing me again, we have an entire dinner to get through first.”

  First. She filed that word away as her whole body tingled. “Trust me, I’m aware.” But inside that car, she felt the sexual tension bouncing off the walls. She was also very aware of the heat from Elizabeth’s body as it caressed the right side of hers, one of the few perks she’d experienced from this tiny car in all the time she’d had it. She wanted nothing more than to place a hand on Elizabeth’s knee and slide the fabric of that dress upward just an inch, or even a few more. She closed her eyes briefly, gripped the steering wheel, and focused on the road.

  “What will you be having?” Elizabeth asked, peering over her menu at Seth’s a short time later. The restaurant was small, only a handful of tables. Luckily, it was Wednesday, and the place was able to fit them in. “I’m going for the sweet cream spinach ravioli.”

  Devyn set down her perfectly made dirty martini. Elizabeth had opted for a Sprite before warming up to an adult beverage. “Maybe the tomato and watermelon salad.”

  “No. Uh-uh.”

  “Uh-uh?” she asked, amused. “You’re opposed to produce? The menu says it’s fresh and local, which should make you happy.”

  Elizabeth tapped the table cloth. “I’m opposed to you not indulging in the homemade pasta at a pasta place.”

  “I guess I’ve gotten used to salads and eating on the go.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous practice I’ve ever heard. Eating on the go? Why?” Elizabeth looked outraged. Downright outraged, and it made Devyn’s stomach flip-flop pleasantly. The fire in her eyes over salads as meals was…everything.

  “Ricotta gnocchi it is,” she said, placing her menu flat on the table.

  “It was that easy?”

  “I’m continually surprised by the things you’re able to get me to do,” Devyn said, with a pretend huff. “It’s a little annoying, if I’m being honest. Let’s not make this a habit. I’ve got to retain some control here, okay? It’s who I am.”

  Elizabeth leaned in. “I think you secretly like letting loose. Letting someone else take control for a change.”

  Devyn’s gaze dropped to Elizabeth’s lips as she
said the words. She imagined Elizabeth in fucking control, and it did wonderful things to her. God, not here. She forced herself to sit up straight and be a normal person in a restaurant.

  She painted on a smile. “I’m still not over the fact that I played and nearly won a cornhole tournament.”

  “Don’t count us out.” Elizabeth tucked a strand of that multicolored hair behind her ear. “There’s always this Saturday.”

  The most amazing thing was that Devyn was excited to hear that, that she could be playing cornhole in a parking lot again this weekend with Elizabeth. What was happening to her and how? Those were the kinds of things she looked forward to now? “I should work on my arc.” She acted out the motion.

  Elizabeth laughed. “Not bad.” She sipped her soft drink. “And how are things going with that big building you’re selling?”

  “Twenty-Four Walker? We’re behind where we should be.” She sipped her own drink, feeling herself yanked right back to her day-to-day reality that had nothing to do with beanbags or flirting. A shame. “And time is running out.”

  Elizabeth sat back to allow the server to swap out her Sprite for the house white wine she’d preordered. Her eyes lit up when the glass was placed on the table. She lifted it happily. “What happens if you don’t get it sold?”

  “Well, my reputation is shot, costing me other opportunities. Worst of all, I probably won’t get another listing from this particular developer, who goes through one major building or reno project after another, which translates to millions in lost commission for me.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered. “Hold the mustard.”

  “Like in a deli?”

  “Yeah, it’s what KC and I say instead of ‘phone.’ Stay with me. You make millions in commission?”

  “Yes,” Devyn said, dismissing her awe, “but that trickles down to my team and a cut to the firm that houses me, but sure. The initial take from a building like this one is in the multi-millions.”

  Elizabeth threw back a gulp of wine. She shook her head. “What are you doing here with me?”

  Devyn eyed her, confused. “Having dinner.” Everything about this woman was becoming adorable to her, right down to her warm-up Sprite.