"Cory."
"Cory," I repeated, nodding to Gage. "This is Gage. Gage, Cory wants to know if I'm free," I explained.
Cory's body pulled away, and I wondered if he saw the same look in Gage's face that I did. As the beats started to mix and merge into a slow song, Cory stepped away and whispered into my ear.
"Let's grab a drink." I didn’t see his expression because I was too busy watching Gage for a reaction. I stood there waiting hopefully for him to say something - anything.
"Sorry mate," he finally interceded. "She's not free, and I'm pretty sure she's had enough to drink tonight."
"Sorry man, is she with you? We were just dancing. There's a shit load of other hot chicks in here, and I don't want any trouble." Cory shrugged and then stepped away from me without a backward glance. Shows how much he cared, I thought to myself.
"You chased him away," I grumbled prettily, but inside I was all smiles.
"Damn right I did, sweetheart." He pulled me against his lean, hard body and looped his arms possessively around my back. "What were you trying to do to me?"
I batted my eyes innocently, but my words gave my intentions away. "I was trying to get you to notice me."
"Christ, Savannah. If I notice you anymore than I already have, I'm going to have a serious problem walking." His hand pressed on my lower back and evidence of his 'noticing me' was pressed into my hip. We began to sway languorously to the music, and my hands crept their way up his abs and chest to wrap around his neck.
The movement brought my shirt up again, and desire began to pool in the pit of my stomach as Gage moved his warm hands to touch my bare skin.
"I'm calling dibs."
"You're what?"
"Dibs," he repeated gruffly; leaning his face down until our foreheads were barely touching. "You're not free anymore. I want you all to myself."
Amused, I coughed in amusement from the barbarian growl I heard in Gage's voice.
"Do you have a problem with that?"
"Well…I don't, but we may need to address the President on it. I mean, I don't know how they do things in Australia, but in America the constitution states that we’re free."
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he looked at me. "You're sort of fun when you're drunk."
Ignoring his comment, I continued. "And then when you say I'm not free, are we talking like, slavery? Because that was abolished a long time ago here. However, if you're talking sex slave, well that has become waaaaaay more acceptable since those books came out several years ago." I grappled with my thoughts for a moment, trying to remember the book names. "Oh, what was it? Something about shades…"
"I could get behind that concept, gorgeous," he teased, his eyes turning dark with desire. His warm lips touched my forehead briefly.
"So could I," I mumbled; resting my head on his chest and closing my eyes. I let him hold me close and we danced to the slow beat for another moment before he pulled back and sighed.
"I need to get back to work. Where are Candace and Sara?"
Disappointment filled me, but I knew he was right. "Um, I don't know." I looked around for my friends and managed to spot Candace dancing close by.
"Hey Cand," I shouted out, my voice rising above the music. All around, curious heads turned our way.
Gage relinquished me to Candace, making sure she was the designated driver and verifying we would head out immediately. He promised to call me in the morning and walked off, after hesitating for a few ponderous seconds.
"No kiss goodnight?" Candace blurted as she watched him stop to speak to some people at a table.
"No," I whined; falling theatrically against her side.
Candace chuckled at me, “Let's get you home. The clock is about to strike midnight, princess, and you're gonna turn into a pumpkin."
Monday - May 6, 2013
Slow Dancing
Monday mornings were bad enough without raging hangovers to contend with. Add my morning art class to that, and I wanted to kill myself. The only thing that kept me going was the fuzzy reminder of the conversation between Gage and me last night. Knowing that he wanted me all to himself was making me positively giddy.
After class, I stopped by a local coffee shop to grab a quick pick me up. It was almost ten-thirty and I found myself exceptionally eager to hear from Gage. He’d said he would call me this morning, and I couldn’t help but get my hopes up. My phone started going off while I waited for the barista to make my mocha latte, and I dove into my large bag in search of it.
The ringing got louder once I finally located the phone and pulled it out. I frowned at the unknown number and answered.
"Hello?"
"Ms. Guthry? This is Officer Owens with the Nashville PD."
"Yes, this is Savannah Guthry."
"Ms. Guthry, I spoke with the owner of The Garage the other night in reference to an altercation between you and Mr. Jax Rogers. Were you aware that Mr. Rogers went missing after that evening, Ms. Guthry?"
"Yes, Officer, a friend at the bar told me you came to speak with him. Has he been located?"
"Yes, he was located…"
"Oh, thank God," I interrupted the officer.
"However, we would like for you to come down to the station sometime today to fill out a statement on the event that occurred," he finished; his voice stern.
"Officer, is everything alright with Jax? I don't understand what information I can offer you. The last I saw him, he was in the parking lot of The Garage."
"You’re not a suspect Ms. Guthry, but we do need your side of the story. We’ve asked the other witnesses at The Garage to come down as well."
"A suspect in what, Officer?" I asked; confusion and disbelief starting to swim through my brain.
"Mr. Rogers was accosted and severely beaten. He was admitted to a local hospital as a John Doe after being found on the side of the road early Saturday morning. If you could come in today it would be appreciated."
Incredulity hit me as I wondered what could have happened to him. I reassured the officer that I was free and would be on my way to the station shortly and hung up. By that point my latte was waiting for me, so I grabbed it and walked out of the shop in a daze.
Since Sara and Jax were friends, I called her to tell her what had happened. She was at work but said she would try to call a few mutual friends and see if anyone knew anything. I was about to head to the station when my phone rang again. This time it was Gage. I hesitated for a moment before answering. Did I seriously have doubts about Gage's story from that night? Did I really suspect that something more sinister happened?
"Hello?"
"Hey. You sound clearer than you did last night. How's your head feeling?" His jab put a timid smile on my face, at least for the moment.
"I've been better," I replied tonelessly.
"I'm sorry. I just got off the phone with Officer Owens, and he said he spoke with you. I feel like this is all my fault."
"Why would you say that?"
"He seemed pretty wasted, Savannah, and maybe I should’ve gotten some of his friends to get him home instead of sending him off in a cab. We don't know what happened to him, but I can't help but feel responsible for it."
Guilt washed over me that I would ever doubt him for a moment. He was with me when the bouncers had sent Jax off. The cab company verified their driver dropped off a relatively drunk, but functioning Jax at his apartment complex. Whatever happened to him had happened after he was left there.
"Gage, you aren't responsible for what happened to him. Someone must have jumped him for his money. Officer Owen said he was admitted as a John Doe, so evidently he didn't have his wallet. Don't blame yourself," I implored.
We went around and around about blame and what might have happened until I pulled up to the station. "Hey, I need to go in and make a statement. I'll call you after and tell you what happens."
"Okay."
I hung up and searched for a parking spot. Taking a girl moment, I adjusted my hair and mak
e-up before stepping out of my car. My stomach quivered at the thought of actually walking into a police station. I pictured endless episodes of cop shows and angry convicts threatening to kill people in my mind. Wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts, I took a deep breath and walked towards the front door. Crossing the parking lot, I glanced around as people milled about. There was a teenage kid with his pants hanging to the ground leaning on an old car, a woman at the far end of the lot yelling on her cell phone at someone, and then a cop car went racing by with its lights flashing and no siren.
When I reached the sidewalk to the door, I glanced up and spotted him.
"What are you doing here?" I questioned, as my heart rate picked up at seeing him.
"They wanted me to come in too, and I figured you could use some support," he confessed as I walked straight into his arms. Gage staggered back slightly from the force of my weight hitting him.
"Sorry." I looked up at him sheepishly while clasping the back of his shirt and admitting, "I've never even had a ticket. I'm supremely nervous.”
"I thought that would be the case. When you said you were on your way, I couldn't stop myself from coming down. You don't mind, do you?"
"Not at all." I pulled back a little while still allowing myself to remain in his embrace. "Why didn't you tell me you needed to come down? I would have picked you up."
"I wanted to surprise you. Luckily I live a few blocks closer than you do, so I beat you here. Let's go get this over with."
With my hand clasped firmly in his, I walked into a police station for the first time.
"Don't smile too much," I warned Gage several hours later as we sat along the banks of the Cumberland River. After making statements at the station, we dropped off my car, had lunch and were now lazily relaxing by the river at a local park. Gage leaned against a tree while I made good on my promise to sketch him.
"I can't help it. You look so determined when you draw. It makes me smile."
Lifting my eyes from the sketch pad I scrutinized his face closely, trying to get every detail right. The small lines around his eyes, the slight crease of laugh lines around his mouth. His lips. Those lips were a girl’s dream. Full and soft, like he took great pains to take care of them. They were curling into another crooked little smile as I stared at them. I felt my face get flushed and I quickly looked back down at my pad.
"Stop it," I groaned, wanting to throw the paper down and throw myself wantonly in his lap.
"Yes ma'am," he grinned again. "Did you know you get a little crease between your brows when you're thinking?" He pointed between his own brows.
I shot Gage a glare as I lifted my hand to my forehead and rubbed the top. "Stop trying to distract me. Do you want to look like a 3rd grade art project?" I teased sternly; going back to sketching.
A slight breeze came off the river and tossed my hair about. I watched as Gage's eyes turned from his normal warm brown to a molten gold. His face clenched, and a sudden intensity cast itself over his features.
"Ooooo," I burst out, finding the perfect inspiration. "Keep that look."
He coughed slightly and the gaze faltered for a moment. I flicked my best pretty please beggar face at him.
"Ok," he agreed. Slowly his eyes moved down from my face and began to check me out. I watched as his eyes seemed to stay on my chest, and was amazed to see him close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, 'The Look' was back.
Finally getting the look I wanted in his face, I started to sketch again. I ignored the curls of desire that started to tickle my toes and run up my legs. Every time I glanced from my paper to his face, another part of my body awakened to his magnetic pull. When I lightly traced his mouth, I felt more blood rush to my face as I visualized kissing it. I decided to add his sexy dimple after a moment, and then stopped to admire the picture as a whole.
"You're gorgeous," I acknowledged, taking in my work.
I heard a low pitched growl and then a moment later he grabbed my ankle and pulled me across the blanket towards him. Once our legs were tangled up together as we sat across from one another, he placed his hands on either side of my face. Smoothing my hair back and running his hands through the windblown mess, he murmured to me in a voice best described as hungry.
"You are gorgeous. If you'd made me keep that look one minute longer my mind would have turned X-rated."
Nearly moaning aloud as his fingers tickled the skin at my nape, I sighed. "Were you thinking dirty thoughts, Mr. Taylor?"
"Guilty as charged," he confessed. His fingers blazed a path from the back of my neck across my collar bone before tracing the edge of my tank top.
My eyes closed as he rubbed the skin above my shirt lightly. His body tilted forward and warm lips caressed my shoulder. They were as smooth as I’d expected them to be. A shudder ran through me when he trailed his lips over my shoulder and up the curve of my neck lightly.
I started to bend my neck back to allow him access to it when the shouts of unbridled laughter from children playing all around us reminded me where we were. The sound jolted me back to reality and I pulled back marginally.
"Wow." The words escaped me before I could stop them.
Gage slid to the right. Falling on his back, he threw his arm over his eyes. He cursed under his breath and then let out a strained grunt. My feet pulled to the side, I lay on the blanket beside him and rolled onto my back.
"Where did you come from?"
"Charleston," I jested, knowing he wasn't really asking a question.
"Are you sure you didn't fall from Heaven?"
His voice sounded so serious that it took me a full five seconds before I broke into laughter. "That is the worst pick-up line EVER. Does that actually work in Australia?" I laughed; looking at him as I rolled to my side.
"For me? Yeah it does," he boasted, his face straight.
Making a fake gagging noise, I started to lie on my back again when he suddenly reached over; lightly grabbing my arm and pulling me towards him.
"Use me as a pillow, it's softer."
There was nothing 'soft' about him, but I happily snuggled into the crook between his arm and chest. My head rested over his heart.
"That line obviously works too," I hinted jokingly.
We lay on the blanket under the sweet breeze from the river and listened to the children playing as white puffy clouds rolled by. My eyes closed as his fingers rubbed up and down my forearm and my hand rested on his abs; feeling the slow, rhythmic inhale and exhale of each breath.
My body stirred when something wet struck my cheek. Suddenly I was pulled from a peaceful nap by another plop of water hitting my face. I glanced up at the sky and saw that dark clouds had rolled in while I was sleeping. Beside me, Gage was startled into wakefulness as more fat raindrops began to fall.
Looking confused for a moment he looked at me with a sheepish smile. His voice melted my insides. "We fell asleep, huh?"
A violent rumble of thunder clapped overhead, a sharp wind blew over the river and then suddenly the storm was moving at warp speed.
"Head to the car, quickly!" he shouted, tossing me his car keys. Grabbing the sketchbook and the shoes I kicked off earlier, I sprinted towards the car as rain began to fall in earnest.
My bare feet slapped against the wet sidewalk as Gage caught up with me, blanket in tow. He grabbed my hand to pull me with him and I laughed. My thin shirt was soaked and the cold rain streamed down my cheeks. Once we reached the car I stopped short and stood there laughing. Full bodied laughter.
"Are you crazy? Jump in." He grabbed the sketch book, opened my door and threw it, along with the blanket into the back seat.
"Dance with me." It was a simple request. I stretched my arms out towards him and dropped my shoes. The rain fell on me freely.
He stood there watching me silently for a moment, and I fully expected him to call me crazy again and insist that I get in the car. But he continued to surprise me like no other man had ever done. He shut the car door and walked to my side
with a broad smile showcased on his beautiful face.
He grasped one of my hands and twirled his wrist, pulling me in towards his body. He spun me around like a ballroom dancer would spin his partner. When I was wrapped tightly against his side, he whispered into my ear, "If I hear thunder again you're getting in, got it?"
Flicking his arm, I twirled back out; throwing my arm out wide behind me. I bowed playfully. "It's a deal."
Gage smiled as he pulled me back to his chest and placed his hands in the customary waltz position. His stance bespoke of someone who had clearly been taught the dance.
"You know how to waltz?" I heard the incredulous doubt in my question and he eyed me sharply as if I’d offended him.
"Just try and keep up."
We spun around and around in a perfect waltz as the rain splattered our faces. When he dipped me, the fat drops pelted my eyes; forcing me to close them. My hair stuck to my face each time we would spin, and Gage lifted his hand to rub the strands away every so often. A car drove by and honked their horn at us. Gage dropped my hand and spun me out again, dropping into a deep, flourishing bow. In cue to his bow I curtsied, and the honk sounded again as the car got farther away from us.
"That was the perfect waltz," he said, looking me over. The hungry desire had returned to his eyes, and I looked down to see that my shirt was basically see-through, and the bra I was wearing wasn’t particularly offering much coverage.
I was astonished to find that I wasn’t embarrassed by the exposed view he was obviously getting. The need emanating from his eyes was a balm to my insecurities. His open admiration was refreshing and not at all creepy.
"Dance with me," he smiled, as he repeated my inquiry from earlier.
This time he pulled me into his arms and I rested my face on his chest as we began to sway slowly.
The perfect question struck me when he began to hum lightly. "What are we dancing to?"
Instead of answering me, he began to sing. His voice was soft and deep, a little gravelly and totally beautiful. I listened to the words and recognized the song as a new one by Kip Moore.
Last Call Page 16
