by Susan Arden
Matt clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed; whatever he said, Stephen couldn’t grasp. Each step back toward the jackhammer and fence-post hole required his absolute concentration. He put on a pair of sound-erasing earphones and turned up the volume on his iPod. Blasting away rock for hours, he focused on chipping and crushing something stronger than his own very human heart.
For years, he would have wagered that particular organ had been missing in action. Each time he stopped to catch his breath, the image of Gillian would reappear. He wiped the sweat from his face, agonizing over the memory of her beauty. The texture of her skin, her sighs, and the way she felt wrapped around him. Stephen wanted to destroy the row of fence, pull it apart as though by doing so he could undo his feelings.
He had a few hours before tonight to get himself together. There’d be no possible way for him to suggest that she put aside her dreams—her chance. For what? Life in Annona? She was a shimmering butterfly, ready to take flight. If he asked her to stay here with him, even if she consented, his selfish greed would equal tearing off her wings. He wouldn’t do that to her, no matter if she was madly in love with him. No matter how much he wanted to ground her. If she left, he’d get over it. Hadn’t he before?
Gripping the jackhammer, he powered on for another hour before a ranch worker tapped him on the arm, motioning that it was quitting time. He picked up the equipment he’d used, loading it into the supply truck. The men piled into the back of his pick-up truck and Peter Giles, the crew manager, jumped into the front passenger seat.
Peter uncapped a bottle of water, tilting it back until the thing was empty. “Can’t believe the weekend is finally here. You got plans?”
“I’m going to the fair tonight. You?”
“You serious?” The crew manager laughed. “I ain’t been to the fair in years. What’s going on that’s got your attention? Some gaming competition? You sure can show somebody a thing or two. Bet you’d fit right in, considering your skill level. Cards, darts, or pool?”
“No gambling. Or drinking. Just going. That’s all.” Stephen gritted his teeth. It wasn’t Peter’s fault that the whole town thought of him as a Texas version of some roustabout.
“No insult meant. I’d place my money on you any day of the week. If there was a man who could cheat the odds, dude, it’s you. Lady Luck is never dim in your corner. I saw you ‘bout a month ago over at Pecos Bill’s. Pool tourney. You walked away with the purse. ‘Course, you bought the whole house a round of drinks which drank up your winnings. No, man. If anyone deserves to win, it’s you, in my book. When’s your next competition?”
“The first of never. I’m not doing that anymore.”
Peter did a double-take, gazing across the space at him. His face broke out in a smile, splitting his face into a wide, toothy grin. “Well, good luck. Man, you’ll need Lady Luck more than ever. I rode like a madman ‘fore I met my wife. Shit, at least you’ve got enough memories to keep you smiling for this lifetime and next.”
Stephen swung his truck down the gravel path and braked suddenly, lost in thought.
“Take it easy,” Stephen exhaled, as Peter opened the truck door.
He parked at the outbuilding where Miller was outside distributing paychecks. Beers were being passed around from coolers filled with ice. Friday afternoons were always jovial. The sound of a banjo being plucked began, and for an hour everyone would kick back. Stephen met his old man’s gaze and walked over to him. Wade McLemore held out a beer. Stephen accepted it, and to prove that he wasn’t whipped, he took a sip.
Shit, the rush of cold beer across his tongue and down his throat felt damned good. Not as good as Gillian’s soft body under him. Nothing could ever compare. To erase the thought, he chugged the rest of his beer, and then crushed the empty can inside his curled fingers. He tossed the can into the trash and returned to face his father.
“You did right nice today. Peter came in with the specs. Your crew is ahead, even with you slipping away this morning.”
Stephen wasn’t about to go there. He shared plenty with Matt. They’d bunked together growing up and, no matter what, he knew Matt hadn’t said a word. No, his father was on a fishing expedition.
“Couldn’t be helped. But as you said, we’re ahead of the game. Wouldn’t have been fair if we’d gotten too far ahead. The other crews might accuse us of getting the easier piece of land.”
“Over my dead body. Everyone knows you been sweating on the jackhammer.”
Stephen met his father’s eyes. “You ever been sorry this is your life? Ever wondered if this was all there was for you?”
“What the shit was in your beer, son?” Wade McLemore chuckled, then stopped. “Oh, I see you want a real answer.” His father straightened from leaning on the fence rail and turned. He gazed over the fence into the outlying areas that spanned a section of the ranch. Interlacing his fingers, he glanced over at Stephen. “’Course I have. Every man questions his life. Nothing’s perfect. You have to consider what you’ve got. Is it enough? I don’t think that’s a fair question. Setting yourself up for failure. A better question is, could you walk away and be happier someplace else?”
Stephen shifted, letting his gaze trace the land where the sky floated and caressed the horizon. He’d seen this vista forever; it was invisible if he didn’t take a moment here and there to remind himself that each day was different from the last. Could he be happier in another place? Hell, he didn’t know. Change for the sake of change was never a high priority on his list.
He couldn’t imagine up and leaving for a big city just because it was far different than Annona. That might depend upon what he found there. Or, rather, who. For now, he didn’t have the answer to his father’s question. He shrugged. “One question, and you’ve given me plenty to think on.”
“Don’t let it tear you up. Tomorrow will be here soon enough. No reason to go charging out the door if you don’t know one way or the other.” His father slapped his back. “Good job today.”
* * *
So on edge, Stephen had a crushing need to draw Gillian to him as soon as he saw her tonight. Forgetting the world, he hungered to claim her again and again until she left. This urge was futile, he realized. Instead of laying aside his hunger, each moment, each kiss and thrust, had his lust sharpening to the point of pain. More dangerous for lusting after someone who might never be his to keep. But hunger for her he did, and would, whether she stayed or left. She had become a chemical compound in his veins and when they came together, it was all he could do to refrain from total combustion.
If it meant he’d get burnt, then so be it. Until he knew better, he’d do his best to come at her with everything he had in his arsenal for seductive warfare.
He wasn’t after leveling the playing field; he wanted to destroy the fucking thing.
Before picking up Gillian, he ventured into town and purchased flowers for her at the florist’s shop on Main Street. He’d actually enjoyed the frozen stare of Mrs. Harriet, the shop owner, when he asked for a dozen of the most beautiful roses in stock.
Their heady scent was overpowering when he opened the side case on his motorcycle. He walked up the front steps, noticing more than a few curious glances and waves from the neighbors. This was the type of street where people sat out on their porches in the evening. Dogs and children, along with entire families, were milling about. A neighborhood park was set a block over and it explained the festive commotion on a Friday night.
He knocked on the door, standing back, and his heart skipped a beat as Gillian opened it. She smiled up at him, wearing a summer dress that matched her eyes. Her glowing skin was set off by the color blossoming in her cheeks. Gillian’s enchanting emerald eyes glimmered up at him, and the effect made his mouth go dry.
“Care to come in, cowboy?” Her voice spilled out into the evening.
“Here, these are for you.”
In the doorway, she was much more than an invitation—she was a magnet drawing him, centering him. She
was so beautiful, so alluring, that his heartbeat threaded faster with each breath capturing her scent, filling his head. It was as though he was under a spell she’d cast, and he didn’t want it to break. A voice whispered in the back of his mind, if this entrancement ceased, he’d shatter apart into a million jagged pieces. So sharp, he’d end up pierced, torn, and scarred. Alone.
He reached for his untamed butterfly, expecting any moment she’d fly away. “My God, if you only knew the effect you have on me.”
Chapter 11
Gillian ran her hands down the new outfit she wore. A simple shift dress in gauzy aqua material done in layers; one she’d bought for her trip earlier today after reading the email from Mr. Fitzgerald. Before leaving her grandmother, she’d checked her emails at the Center’s computer room. She’d stared at the email from Mr. Fitzgerald and then, with trembling fingers, she’d clicked it open. She read what the producer had to say, not once but several times.
She wondered if Nana had called him. Something she could easily imagine her grandmother doing. Heaven help Mr. Fitzgerald if he gave Nana his office or cellphone number. The man’s ear would be bent in half.
A flight was set up with a coach seat, leaving Dallas on Monday morning. She’d stay two days and return on Wednesday. Mr. Fitzgerald had a screen test set up, and some meetings. A tentative filming schedule, starting in a little over a month, had been included.
Gillian practiced what she would say to Stephen about going to the West Coast. She didn’t want him to think she was getting all full of herself. One hand-written note and an email didn’t constitute being hired to appear on a nationally-aired program. Mr. Fitzgerald could easily determine after a screen test that she was all wrong. And she wasn’t about to return with her tail between her legs, appearing as a completely naïve small-town girl with extra-large dreams.
Just look what had happened to Haden. He’d been given a chance, and it wasn’t the easiest ride. Today she’d found him at home when she returned from the studio, in his bed and dead to the world.
“Haden,” she’d called out from the doorway. He continued snoring and she’d gone to his side, attempting to rouse him with a firm shake. He’d mumbled and pushed her away. His whole bedroom had reeked of a foul smell and she’d backed out, unable to have a simple conversation with him in this state.
Walking on eggshells would have been more fun, and easier, at this juncture. So many balls in the air…if she wasn’t careful, her concentration would falter and she’d drop one. Which one? She exhaled a ragged breath. The stress mounted with each day, hour by hour.
When Haden finally appeared, he trudged over to her with a lopsided grin and his hair plastered to his head. “Don’t be mad. Please. I’m trying to get my shit together. Things are crazy right now.”
“Crazy is an understatement. These people you’re hanging around…they’re trouble.
He scrubbed his hand over his face. She didn’t say anything about the multiple stamps she saw on the back of his hand.
Her brother stretched. “You’re doing your hair. What’s the occasion?”
“I’m going on a date.” She met his eyes in her mirror. If he knew she was seeing Stephen he didn’t let on. “With Stephen McLemore.”
Haden’s head snapped upward and his bloodshot eyes widened. “No. I don’t think that’s the best idea I’ve heard. Fuck, no! You sit here and nag me about my life choices, and you’re dating him? I don’t ever remember McLemore on a date. Where the hell are you going? Better not be a strip club.”
“Don’t be crass. We’re going to the county fair.” She raised her eyebrows, scolding him.
“Are we talking about the same Stephen McLemore I went to school with? Not some nerdy second cousin?”
“The one and the same.” She rose from the settee in front of her vanity. “I’ll make some coffee.” Gillian bit the inside of her cheek, stalling the inevitable question.
“Damn. I’ll say this, you sure can pick ‘em. How much experience do you have playing with fire? He’s not cut out to be a boyfriend, ya know. More like… Awe, never the hell mind.” Haden was suddenly at a loss for words.
“Fine. Let’s just agree to disagree on my choice of dates. But you, since you asked, what are your plans tonight?”
“Shit. I’d much rather discuss where Stephen’s taking you after the fair.”
“I found a puppy and he’s caring for it. So I’d like to go see it. We’re not staying out late, if that’s your point. Stop avoiding my question, Haden. Tonight?”
She watched her brother inhale. His color was off. Waxen. Gray. “We’re playing at Ed’s Bar and Grill. Nothing outlandish. It’s a popular restaurant. And I’m not doing a thing afterwards.” He rolled his shoulders, and then stopped as though he’d considered something. He scratched his neck, flicking his fingers over what looked like three days’ beard growth. “I might go on a date tonight, too. There’s a girl who comes around. Dinner after the gig doesn’t sound all that bad.”
“Really? What’s her name?” Gillian asked nonchalantly.
He narrowed his eyes at her as she passed by on the way to the kitchen. She waited for her brother to respond.
“Why? Are you going to check up on me?”
“Why? Should I? Go shower and I’ll have a pot of coffee ready.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” he muttered, shuffling down the hall.
After he showered and shaved, Haden exited his room, whistling all the way out to the kitchen. He picked up the mail off the counter, now resembling the brother Gillian had always known. The one she remembered pulling countless pranks on her. The older brother who’d walked her to school, and protected her when kids had teased her about being so skinny. Whose shoulder she’d cried upon when they’d learned their parents had been killed. She wanted him to be okay. But she couldn’t pretend, just because it was easier.
“You look like a million bucks,” she said.
He laughed, holding out his arms and turning. “You approve?”
“Definitely. That’s a different style. More polished.” She walked over and embraced him. She noticed a gold watch on his wrist when he hugged her. Haden wore an expensive leather jacket and new jeans, too. His torso had less bulk. In the past two weeks he’d gotten thinner, his hair longer, his face leaner. Knots formed in her heart.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she whispered.
“I won’t lie. It’s rough going, the first tour.” He stepped away, grabbing a mug. Haden poured a cup of coffee, glancing over his shoulder. “I just need to get back on the road and finish. I’m not looking forward to the stop and start, is all. Need to get this tour over. Afterwards, my manager said we’re set to record another album. Going to Austin. I’m just tired, but I’ll be fine. Two more weeks, and then no more buses or cheap hotels. At least, not for a long time.” He downed the cup of coffee, setting his mug in the sink.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch together and go see Nana.”
“Possibly. Practicing tomorrow. Let me see how the schedule works out. Rain check?” Haden’s eyes were shuttered. His way of closing in.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nodded as he paused at the front door. Her brother rapped his knuckle against the door jamb and walked on through with his head lowered. The weight of the world appeared to be hung about his shoulders. For someone who had been given his dream, it sure as heck didn’t seem to be much to shout about. Each time she talked with him, it seemed a little bit more of him had been sucked dry.
A rhythmic knock on her front door made her jump. She pulled it open, expecting to see her brother standing there without his keys. Her breath became a hiccup and a hot blast of anticipation ricocheted through her at the sight of Stephen, leaning against the doorway with his arms full of the most exquisite, coral-colored roses she’d ever seen. His blue eyes seemed lighter, glimmering above the profusion of color. Pushing off the door frame, she watched his arm muscles flex. His
black T-shirt hugged his body, one she now knew quite well. His worn jeans hardly hid muscular thighs, or the bulge that made her lick her lips.
It was all she could do to greet him sensibly. She finally stopped blocking his path and invited him inside.
He murmured, “My God, if you only knew the effect you have on me.”
Hunger rocketed through her body. The whole effect ran rampant in her nervous system. The explosion of color in his arms made his tanned skin glow, but it was his words and the heat in his eyes that captivated her completely.
“Or you on me,” she whispered. She inhaled the rich scent of the flowers, observing their intense color, and noting the individual coral shades within the petals.
“Do you like them?” His usually stark, sensual countenance was momentarily replaced with boyish uncertainty. This was the side of him she’d found utterly irresistible. The part that she believed he didn’t reveal often.
“They’re beyond words. So rich. Almost unreal.” The rose petals were edged in crimson, as though each blossom bled from being infused with too much vibrant color. Their beauty held her as breathless as he did.
“Would you like something to drink?” She headed into the kitchen where, less than ten hours ago, they’d burst past in a haze of aching lust and need. His forearm brushed against her belly. Her body clenched. Their eyes met in a silent, scorching exchange. “I’d better put these in water.”
“I’m fine. You said to bring the bike.” He followed her into the kitchen. “I’m worried. You’re wearing a dress.”
“Don’t.” She lifted the edge of her dress. “I’m prepared. Dance shorts. It’s too hot for pants.”
“Should have known. Damn, you’re not playing fair if you want to get to the fairgrounds in one piece.”
Her students were scheduled to go on stage in less than an hour. Even that thought didn’t stop her closing the distance between them. “I want you, Stephen. More so now than before. If it weren’t for my promise to watch my students, I swear I’d be unzipping your pants right now.” All she could think about was seeing if he was as hard as she imagined she’d find him. The idea of taking him into her mouth, licking him and bringing him pleasure, had her tingling with desire. If he wanted her, there was nothing to stop him, or her. It was all up to him.
