Be Gay, Do Crimes

By Imogen Markwell-Tweed

Kind and caring Claire hasn’t always had it easy, but she can always depend on her best friend, Mia. Mia doesn’t mind all of Claire’s quirks, even as Claire works to find herself again after the divorce. Spunky, personable, and opinionated, Mia loves her best friend enough to do anything for her.

So when Claire’s drunk, abusive ex-husband dies at Mia’s apartment, Mia packs their bags and puts them on the run. Terrified but determined to support one another, Claire and Mia bumble their way cross-country and through an accidental crime spree. Even as the police close in, Mia’s long simmering feelings for Claire keep bubbling up, disrupting Mia’s efforts to keep her safe.

Packed full of laughs, loves, and petty crimes, Imogen Markwell-Tweed’s Be Gay, Do Crimes, is a charming and thrilling story of best friends falling in love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: Apr 29, 2021
• ISBN: 9781094418278

Imogen Markwell-Tweed

Imogen Markwell-Tweed is a queer romance writer and editor based in St. Louis. When she's not writing or hanging out with her dog, IMT can be found putting her media degrees to use by binge-watching trashy television. All of her stories promise queer protagonists, healthy relationships, and happily ever afters. @unrealimogen on Twitter and Instagram.

Book preview

California

Chapter One

Claire considered herself an expert in quite a few things.

Getting readable cursive on the ten inch cakes at Saiber’s Groceries? She got it. Knife throwing with an almost scary precision? Since twelfth grade, thanks. Avoiding the entire left side of Los Angeles so she doesn’t accidentally run into her ex-husband? Six months and counting, Baby.

Painting her toenails? Apparently that escaped her.

Dude, you’re like… really bad at this, Mia said, nose scrunching as she surveyed the hot pink carnage that was Claire’s feet.

Claire grit her teeth, fighting back a wave of irritation. I’ll figure it out.

Mia made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat. Claire’s hand shook and she jolted, painting a long pink strip across the knuckle of her big toe.

Fuck, she groaned. Mia, wisely, did not say anything — just wordlessly passed over a cotton swab pre-soaked with polish remover. Claire did not stop to think about why it was pre-soaked and how little faith her best friend had in her painting skills. Instead, she just begrudgingly accepted it and tried to clean up her mess. She shook out her hands, rolling her neck, and tried to paint her toenails again.

Fuck! She only just stopped herself from throwing the bottle of polish across Mia’s living room.

Mia lost her battle not to laugh, head tipping back as she giggled.

We’ve been doing a weekly spa night for how long, Claire?

Claire scowled. Mia knew how long. About fourteen years, Mia.

Fourteen years, yep, that’s it. Mia grinned at her. "And yet, you appear to get worse each time."

So rude, Claire grumbled. She started to clean off her toes completely. She didn’t need colored toenails. She shouldn’t have even tried.

I’m just saying, Mia said, tossing her short brown hair into a low bun as she watched Claire work. "Most of the time, continued practice offers progress. It’s almost impressive that in your case, your skills are deteriorating."

Oh, yeah? Claire threw a crumpled paper towel at her and grabbed Mia’s full wine glass. Hers had been emptied during the fingernail portion of the night. Fuck off!

Mia burst into giggles. Claire rolled her eyes and hid her smile behind the wine glass.

Best friends since the first day of high school orientation, Claire and Mia were well used to each other’s antics. There was very little about each other they didn’t know or that was new. Despite this, Claire and Mia never tired of each other. Best friends were like that, she supposed. She wouldn’t know if it was just like that with them; Mia was the only one she ever had.

Or would ever want, she thought fondly as Mia picked out a new bottle of polish and started to paint Claire’s toes. Flawlessly, she finished within just a few minutes, and Claire was not so ashamed that she couldn’t admit it was a perfect job.

Mia preened at the compliment as if she hadn’t been receiving it for over a decade.

I’m glad you moved in, Mia said as she wrangled Claire’s phone out of her hand, tossing it over her shoulder on the couch. "Jesus, sit still, I’m working."

I’m ordering the pizza! Claire defended herself. Mia refused to do the ordering since Claire only ate vegan and was humiliated by trying to talk on the phone. Mia waved a hand dismissively, uncaring, and Claire snorted.

She had one of Claire’s hands in hers, carefully painting white hearts over the now dry pink polish. Claire settled in to let her work, even if she would have to scrub it off before work next week.

I’m glad I moved in, too, she replied, a beat too late. A furrow drew between Mia’s brow and Claire knew they were both thinking about Claire’s ex-husband.

Leaving John was the hardest thing Claire had ever done. Not just because she loved him, but because their marriage had not been healthy. Toxic and abusive, leaving John had taken the better part of three years, and that was after the first two years of their marriage, when she was absolutely unwilling to admit that anything was off.

Someone else might have abandoned Claire the tenth or twentieth or fiftieth time she excused John. But not Mia. Mia stuck by her side, day by day, even when it was in a courtroom getting a restraining order, in the hospital room getting stitches, or at the lawyer’s office getting officially declared unwed.

Claire had been living with Mia ever since she left John. When she had managed to ask, Mia had just scoffed, Why do you think I got the two bedroom? and hugged her.

Claire had really loved John. She had. But she should have known it wouldn’t work. She was supposed to love her husband more than her best friend and she knew, without a single doubt, that she’d never loved anyone in her whole life as much as she loved Mia.

Reminded of this, Claire nodded her consent to Mia’s hopeful face when she lifted the pearl glue-ons for their manicures.

Mia stuck her tongue out, biting it gently as she narrowed her focus on the tweezers lifting pearls from the box. She moved with slow precision and a seriousness that she had absolutely never offered school or her job at the bookstore down the road.

Do you think that Jenny Lawson is finally ready to admit she’s a big old cheater? Mia asked as she considered where to place the pearl.

Claire hadn’t thought about Jenny Lawson in a decade. Uh, what?

Mia dropped the pearl. Jenny fucking Lawson, Claire. Her eyes widened in the short silence. "Claire. Jenny Lawson. Jenny fucking Lawson, Claire! My mortal enemy!"

From Baxter High? She tried to clarify.

Mia’s jaw dropped. "Some best friend you are. Yes, from high school. She’s that bitch that cheated during the mock trial by reading my notes and won the whole case!"

Claire vaguely remembered this happening sophomore year. Wasn’t the prize just, like, ten bucks to Dairy Queen?

Wow. Mia shook her head, letting out a short, bitter laugh. Some LA snob you are. Ten DQ bucks is like three Blizzards.

Not with inflation, Claire pointed out.

Mia sighed. "When we get to Baxter, that’s gotta be our first stop. The one here is like an hour away!"

Claire nodded. This rant, unlike Jenny Lawson, she remembered. If anything, it grew with fervor each day Mia went without a Blizzard Of The Month.

Deal, she agreed, and wondered if she could convince Mia to just drive the hour to the Californian DQ instead of them returning to Baxter, Missouri for their ten-year high school reunion next week.

It’s just one night, Mia said softly, already picking up on what she wasn’t saying.

Claire nodded. She busied her hands by braiding locks of her hair together, fingers deftly twisting as her stomach rolled.

She hadn’t hated high school — she’d had Mia, after all — but the reunion was not something she was looking forward to. If it hadn’t coincided with Mia’s mother retiring to Florida and needing Mia to return to Baxter to get her childhood home ready to be sold, they wouldn’t have gone at all. And now, with a divorce she knew wasn’t her fault but still felt like it under her belt, Claire just… didn’t want to go.

One night, so I can finally confront Jenny Lawson now that I’m hot and out of the closet, Mia said, and Claire laughed. I’m going to throw a drink on her, God willing.

How will you get that to happen? Claire couldn’t imagine Mia being rude enough for that.

Mia grinned. "If she says something homophobic, it’s fair game. And, you know. It’s Baxter."

Okay, okay, she agreed, and when Mia beamed at her, it didn’t feel like much of a chore anymore.

Okay, so this is what I’m thinking of wearing— Mia jumped from the couch, nails done, and went to her closet. The doorbell rang and she waved for Claire to deal with it as she went to grab the clothes.

Claire knew that whatever Mia had picked out, she had already selected items for Claire, too, and it would be less of a conversation and more of a fashion show. She was glad the pizza was here — carbs always slowed her down a little.

Claire opened the door, fumbling with her wallet and holding the door with her hip. Hey, twenty— she stopped, eyes widening.

John, ruby cheeked and grinning, stared back at her.

Hi, Sweetheart, he said, and Claire slammed the door shut.

John’s boot shoved between the door and the jam before he wretched it open. She let out a surprised scream and he grabbed her by the arm.

Let go of me, she hissed, and his fingers tightened.

Claire, what— Mia stopped. She glared. You motherfucker.

John sneered at her. Thick waves of whiskey wafted over her and Claire couldn’t stop herself from trembling. The scent was heady and familiar and reminded her of bruised skin and shaken bones. She tried again

Reviews for Be Gay, Do Crimes

[Kelsey Laurent · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The perfect gay Thelma and Louise the world has been craving. Would re-read, this one is so fun

[priscilla lim · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Fantastic book, my new favourite. Two weeks later and the story is still deeply imprinted on my mind. I’ve moved to a different novel, after finishing this novella, and whenever I’m not reading that novel and trying to remember its story, I keep remembering “Be Gay, Do Crimes”. I can’t get enough of this. This is my first read (read, not listen) of queer romance fiction literature, in a number of years, and I have to say...it fits all of my sapphic fantasies so perfectly. My only qualm with “Be Gay, Do Crimes” is that it is terribly short: I wish it were more like 300-500 pages, rather than 123!!

[Melissa · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

So cute and charming, Claire and Mia both have neuroses and problems but they accept each other for who they are. Great story!