by Tess Oliver
When she pursed her pink lips, all I could think of was kissing them. “Too bad, I was liking the scenario of you fighting for a girl. It’s romantic.”
“Sorry to burst that romance bubble. I’ve just never met the one woman who makes me want to spit fire if another guy so much as looks at her.”
“Some poor girl out there is missing out on all this hunkiness.” She clucked her tongue in disappointment. “And she doesn’t even know it. That is truly tragic.” She leaned back and tilted her head in assessment. “Which brings me to another guess. Even though you haven’t narrowed it down to one lucky girl, you are a fucking awesome lover. Am I right?”
I laughed. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask all the—”
“All the? Well, I guess I can check true next to the man whore box.”
“Shit, if you’re going to make it sound like that, then I don’t want to play this game anymore.”
“No, you’re right. Judgy stuff turned off.” She turned an invisible key on her lips. “Last guess.” She squinted her golden eyes as if that helped her read my mind. “You’re happy with your life some of the time, and the rest of the time, you wish you could start the whole damn thing all over.”
“Wow. You’re good.”
She leaned back and stretched her legs. “Nah. That one was easy. I think almost every person on the planet can own up to that one.”
“Even you? I mean you’ve got it all. Right?”
For the first time since she sat down, she looked sad, sort of like a lost, little girl. “There are plenty of mornings I wake up and wish I could start all over again.”
She grew quiet. My fingers traced the creamy smooth skin on her legs. Her eyes drifted shut, and all I could think about was seeing that same sleepy face on a pillow next to me.
The captain’s voice came on the intercom, startling us out of the moment. He let us know that we would be landing in half an hour in California where the sun was shining and the temperature was ninety degrees.
Lenix reluctantly pulled her legs off my lap. “I’m going to say something that I have never said, nor had I ever expected to say in my whole life.”
I looked at her expectantly.
“I wish this flight were longer.” She leaned over with a laugh and kissed my cheek. “Until we meet again my ruggedly handsome coal miner.” She hopped up out of the seat. All eyes turned toward her, and I thought then that even if she hadn’t been a famous rock singer, all eyes would have turned toward her. I know mine sure as hell would’ve.
Her long bangs nearly hung in her golden eyes as she turned around and blew me a kiss. Then, she disappeared behind the first class curtain.
Chapter 8
Lenix
I’d only been to California for several concerts and then, we’d passed through the state so quickly, the palm trees and beaches had been just a blur. Even my only memory of Disneyland was a fake white mountain jutting up from behind the trees lining the freeway as we sped past in our tour bus. But I liked the place. It left you with a feeling that summer would never end and that barbecues on Christmas were totally doable.
Graham had rented the beach house from a wealthy business friend. It was a cool three story house that overlooked the cove. The balcony was surrounded by Plexiglas to make sure none of the view was impeded. A deep blue ocean rippled into gentle crests all the way out to the horizon line. The ivory sand was mostly empty. Beachgoers were back in school and back in their offices. There were only four other equally posh houses on the cove. At the end was a cluster of small white cabins with blue roofs, each decorated in cheesy nautical ornaments like fishing nets and lanterns. It was the only motel on the beach.
I continued a short, rather sexy daydream about my plane ride mate as I pressed my stomach down on the lounge. The sun on the California coast was relentless, but it felt good on my skin.
The screen door to the balcony slid open. Duff walked out carrying my phone. “It’s beeping and vibrating and doing all kinds of shit by itself on the kitchen counter.” He glanced at the screen. “That jerk you were dating, the asshole from that detective show keeps calling.” He placed the phone on the wicker table next to the chaise lounge.
My phone buzzed again. I reached over and turned it off.
Duff pulled up a chair and sat down. He lowered sunglasses over his eyes. “Thought you broke it off with him.”
“I did. For some reason he thinks I’m interested in his day to day activities.”
“What happened to that guy, Mick, the stunt man with the beefy biceps? Your words, not mine.”
“No sense of humor,” I muttered against the pillow of the lounge. “In fact, he was the antithesis of witty, if there is such a thing. Beefy biceps or not.”
The screen door slid open again. “Whose beefy biceps are we discussin’?” Brick lifted the beer he was holding like a hand weight and tapped the unimpressive bulge in his arm.
“We sure as hell weren’t talking about those ping pong balls,” Duff said.
“Look who’s talkin’, stick figure man.”
“Yeah, well I’m not claiming to have any biceps, so that argument is stupid.”
Brick dropped his head back and guzzled the beer, finishing the show with a good ole boy beer can fist crush. “Speaking of biceps, who the hell was that guy you were sitting next to on the plane? Axel said you were sitting next to some shady looking guy with shaggy hair and tattoos.”
“Said the guy with shaggy hair and tattoos,” I said without looking up from my lounge.
“Yeah, but the key word there was shady,” Brick continued, obviously not put off by the fact that I wasn’t terribly interested in the chat. “Bet he wondered how the hell he got so damn lucky as to have Lenix Harlow climb into the seat next to him.”
I finally made a small effort to respond to him by lifting my face and sneering back at him over my shoulder. “Oh yes, I’m sure he considered it equivalent to winning the damn lottery. And there wasn’t a damn shady thing about him. He’s a coal miner who was flying out here for a vacation. And frankly, I was the lucky one for landing in that particular empty seat.”
“Oh,” Duff said with emphasis. “Is that right? Sounds like you had a good time back there in coach.”
Brick tossed the empty beer can onto the wicker table. “Shit, Lennie, did you join the mile high club with the California bound coal miner?”
Duff laughed. I stretched my leg far enough off the lounge to kick his shin. “When you laugh at Brick’s stupid comments, it only encourages him to be even more stupid.” I looked back at Brick. “And just because you’re ridiculous enough to screw someone in one of those disgusting airplane bathrooms, doesn’t mean I am.”
“Who said anything about doing it in the bathroom. Those first class seats give plenty of room.”
The comment made Duff sit forward. “No way. When did you fuck someone in first class?”
“The first time was on our way to England with that hot little blonde sitting in the back row with her rich daddy.”
“Damn, bro, you’re a fucking pig. I sure as hell hope I never end up in one of those seats,” Duff quipped.
I put up my hand. “No more details. If you guys want to keep talking about this, then get off this balcony. You’re ruining my suntan session.”
“You jealous, Lennie?” Brick asked.
I snorted a dry laugh. “That’s it. You’ve found me out.”
“Right. Maybe you’d have more fun with the miner.”
“I’ve no doubt of that, Brick.”
I reached back and untied the string on my bikini. “Jeesh, this is the same sun that hangs over the east coast, but it sure feels a lot stronger. Duff, can you put some lotion on my back?”
“I’ll do it,” Brick said enthusiastically.
“No, let Duff do it. When you do it, it becomes too sexual.”
“Gee thanks,” Duff grunted as he leaned down to pick up the lotion.
“Believe me, what I said wasn’t mean
t as a compliment. I meant it in a dirty old man wearing a big trench coat type of way.”
Duff’s laugh boomed across the balcony.
“Fuck you, Lennie,” Brick spit out as he walked to the Plexiglas barrier. His loud laugh followed, but I was sure it had nothing to do with the comment.
I startled as the first glob of cold lotion hit my hot skin.
“Duff, come check this out,” Brick called. “Axel is chasing down some little guy with a camera. That big moose runs fast in sand.”
Duff left the pool of lotion between my shoulders and joined Brick at the balcony. “Shit, that’s that dweeb, Jergen or Jargon or whatever the hell his name is, the one that’s always following Lennie around.”
“Really? I thought Rush took care of the press yesterday.” I tied the suit string and reached back in a futile attempt to wipe away the lotion. “How did he find us so fast?”
Brick looked over at me. “Uh, maybe because he’s obsessed with you. I sometimes wonder if he’s working on his own. What paper would let their reporter follow around one person all day?”
Duff laughed. “Oh shit, I think Jergen just peed his pants. Axel is telling him something, and the guy keeps sinking lower in the sand as if Axel’s words are pounding him like a stake in the ground.” Duff shook his head in disappointment. “Looks like Axel’s going to let him live.”
“For now,” Brick added.
The screen door slid open, and Graham walked out onto the balcony with his phone to his ear. He walked past us and looked down at the scene on the sand. “Why the hell didn’t you grab the camera?” he growled into the phone before hanging up.
I rested back down and pressed my eyes against my forearms like a little kid, hoping that if I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me. But I could feel his glare on my back, and I knew what was coming next.
“You need to end this sunbathing session and go inside, Lenix. It doesn’t look right. You cancelled two engagements, and now you’re out soaking up the California sun in half a bikini.”
He waited for me to follow his orders. My bandmates had grown quiet.
“Fucking hell.” I grabbed my towel and trudged back inside.
Chapter 9
Dawson
“Slow down on the soda chugging there, buddy. We’ve got a whole week,” Megan said from her beach chair without lifting her head or sunglasses.
I’d been back with my sisters for half a day, and I already felt like we were back like little kids again, fighting over who gets to take home the tiny shampoos and soaps from the motel. At least now I was old enough to afford my own motel room, so the soaps and shampoos were all fucking mine.
“Damn, Megan, you’re like that bitchy old lady who used to teach second grade. She could catch me doing shit without even looking my direction.” Megan was the oldest, and while she was only eleven months older than Aubrey, who was two years older than my twin, Andi, and me, those eleven months had apparently given Megan authority over the rest of us. By the time she was six, she had slid comfortably into the position of ‘boss of the world’, a title the rest of us had given her. And, it seemed, that old habits really did die hard.
“Thanks. Nothing nicer than being compared to that cranky old lady. She once made me stay after and clean desks because I made the catastrophic decision to get up in the middle of a test and sharpen my pencil. She even took the pencil away and made me finish the test with a crayon.”
Aubrey got up from her chair and moved to her towel. “I wonder how many of us Bluefield Bluejays were left mentally scarred for life from spending a year in that woman’s classroom. I heard she finally retired last year.”
“Jeez, she must have been like a hundred and ten years old.” I reached into the ice chest for another soda, and Megan cleared her throat loudly. It didn’t stop me from pulling out another can. “Since we can’t drink beer out here on the public beach, I’ve got to find something to suck on.”
“Yuck,” Aubrey and Megan said simultaneously. Something they were really good at.
“I was talking about beer. You two are the ones turning it into something dirty. I guess that’s what living on the west coast will do to ya.”
“That’s because the original sentiment came from you, and we know you’re a disgusting pervert,” Megan said as she turned around to look back at the motel.
Aubrey and Megan had been close their entire lives, and that hadn’t changed. They’d even moved out to California together and found jobs at the same real estate firm. But now one thing had separated them, something they hadn’t managed to coordinate together. Megan had met a guy, a realtor in the same office. I’d known Wyatt for three hours, since he’d walked into the motel this morning, and I already had to fight the urge to kick him in his pearly white teeth.
“Where’s ole Wyatt Earp at? Taping on those whitening strips before he comes down to the water?” I asked.
Megan held her middle finger up. “He’s got work to do.” She already knew how I felt about the guy, mostly because I wasn’t real big on keeping my opinions to myself. Especially when it came to my sisters. Of course, they were just as quick to let me know their opinions too.
“Seriously, Meg.” I decided to dig the nail in a little more. “The guy is a dick. I don’t even need to have a full conversation with him to know that.”
Megan spun around in her chair. “Yeah, well if I wanted your damn opinion, I’d ask for it. And besides, you weren’t even happy when Andi picked Tommy as a boyfriend. Still can’t believe that. Andi and Tommy “Huck” Sawyer a couple. Never saw it coming.”
Aubrey rose up to her forearms. “Bullshit, Meg. You knew there was always something between them. We all did. Andi told me Tommy’s going to stay home and work on the farm, maybe even quit mining for good.”
I clamped my teeth together as I shrugged, letting her know the topic didn’t interest me. Fortunately, her phone buzzed, and she moved her focus to the text.
“Wow. You know Brielle from the office? She said the flight to North Carolina was terrible. They went through some thunderstorms over the Midwest, and they had terrible turbulence.” Aubrey texted something back and then dropped her phone into her beach bag. “How was your flight, Dawson? You didn’t say much about it.”
“Not much to say. We went up in the air and then the cart came down the aisle and they tossed stale peanuts at us, like monkeys in a zoo. Then we came down. Oh, but Lenix Harlow, the singer from Ice Cake, came back to coach from first class and sat with me for most of the flight. We shared a warm cookie. She even let me massage her calves.”
Aubrey laughed. “God, you are still such a clown, Dawz. Don’t know where you come up with that stuff.”
“Yeah, I’ve got one heck of an imagination. That’s for damn sure.” I hadn’t bothered to tell them about my flight because I knew they wouldn’t believe me. And I’d decided not thinking about it would make it easier to forget Lenix. So far, I was still thinking about her . . . a lot.
I got up. “I’m going down to the water. If I don’t return, the sharks ate me. Aubrey can have my collection of baseball cards.”
“What about me?” Megan called as I started across the hot sand.
“Nothing for you, ‘boss of the world’,” I yelled back.
Chapter 10
Lenix
I sat with a book on my lap completely shrouded by the quilt I’d pulled off the bed. The window seat in the bedroom had a scenic view of the beach. The sky muted to a swirl of orange and pink as the sun dropped down to the horizon line. The low roof outline of the motel at the end of the cove cast shadows onto the sand. I wondered what Dawson was up to in his beach motel room. More than likely, he was getting ready to go out. A guy like that didn’t sit around alone. I envied his freedom. Somehow Graham had gotten it into his head that I was his prisoner, his minion, to behave and act only according to his instructions. I should have seen it coming. It was never good to be managed by someone who knew enough about your past to destroy you wit
h one call to the press. Of course, he’d never do it because I was his golden ticket. Except, maybe, when it seemed anxiety and a major case of stage fright might keep him from cashing in on that golden ticket.
Rex’s deep voice followed a knock on the door. “Lennie, food is here.” He poked his head inside and laughed when he saw me draped in a quilt. “It’s eighty degrees outside, and you look as if you’re hibernating from a winter storm.”
“I wanted to avoid any lecture about sitting in front of a window where the rest of the world might see me and assume I’m just up here having a good time instead of singing on stage.”
“Come on, Len, Rush is just trying to keep a lid on the problem. Anyhow, tacos and burritos, a California dinner tradition, are right downstairs.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“More for us.” He shut the door, and his big feet thundered down the stairs.
I got up and dropped the quilt back onto the bed. I wandered around the room. The pale blue walls and pink quilt seemed to indicate that it was where a girl normally slept. I walked to the closet and opened the door. Everything was neat and tidy. There was even a box marked winter gear. I wondered how often it got used in a place that seemed to have perpetual summer.
I felt a bit intrusive but just bored enough to open the box. A pink beanie and a red scarf sat atop a pile of ski sweaters. I picked up the beanie and twirled it on my finger for a moment before a terribly wicked and fun plan struck me.
I ran to my suitcase and pulled on a pair of jeans and shoes. I shoved my red hair up beneath the beanie and pulled it low over my brow. I tossed the scarf around my neck. It was slightly comical in the heat, but I could pull it up easily to hide my face, if necessary.
I looked absolutely dorky as I stared at myself in the vanity mirror. It was perfect. The next part of my plan meant slipping past the guys. I had tacos and burritos on my side though. The music was cranking downstairs too. Everything was in place for my escape plan.
