Keeping Claudia (Toby & Claudia Book 2)

by Suzanne McKenna Link

  “We’ll cut it short in the front, take off the sleeves, and make her wear these.” June scooped up a pair of aged, lace gloves. “They’re even a little yellowed. Perfect.”

  Motivated, we investigated the costume jewelry and made several more great finds.

  “You guys are going to have a great time.” June rested against a display rack and rubbed her belly.

  I glanced over at her. “What’ya mean?”

  “I’ll come out to dinner, but a night club is not a place for a very pregnant woman, not with little Carlos Junior so close to making his appearance. I have no doubt you’ll make sure the night goes off without a hitch,” she said. “Okay, so we got April squared away. How about you?”

  I brushed my hand over a line of hanging clothes. The Mad Monkey would be full of distractions. I needed something that would make Toby absolutely unable to ignore me.

  “Help me pick out something decade-appropriate, but sexy. Something that’ll catch a guy’s eye.”

  June smiled at her sister. “Someone gave April pair of edible underwear yesterday. Will that do?”

  “You can wear them,” April told me, “but I don’t want them back.”

  “June, jeez. I guess it’s true what they say, pregnancy elevates a woman’s libido,” I said.

  “Not every knocked-up chica suffers from the affliction. I’m just lucky I guess.” She laughed. “Come on. I’m up for that challenge of dressing you to grab Toby’s attention.” With a hint of mischief in her eyes, June nodded her head to the nearby rack and proceeded to waddle over to it. “I heard fluorescent colors were popular in those days,” she said over her shoulder.

  I questioned my sanity in asking a randy pregnant woman for fashion advice, but I wasn’t above doing whatever it took to win Toby back.

  Chapter 36 • Toby

  On Saturday night, Young Cranky Old Guys entered the Mad Monkey with swagger. Pace had delivered on his promise to promote. He’d advertised our ‘Back-to-the-80s’ show everywhere possible, and from the look of the crowd, he’d been successful. The Monkey was packed to the rafters.

  The guys and I had spent the last few weeks scouring lists of hot tracks from the eighties, picked the most memorable and energizing songs, and practiced them over and over. We were feeling confident. Pete, the newest member, the one replacing me, helped us set up. After a round of warm-up shots, we took to the stage.

  We started with Queens’s “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” and when the crowd started singing along, we knew it was going to be a memorable night.

  We had just begun the classic, “Jessie’s Girl,” and I wailed on my guitar, nailing the song’s repetitive power chords. The crowd, high on the sound, chanted the lyrics back to us. Then, like Moses parting the Red Sea, the masses divided, and April came through, a queen bee leading her procession. In her wake, the vibrant colors of her bridal party entourage followed. Like some warped, Goth Barbie doll party, they were all dressed in lace, half-shirts, mesh, and a slew of random and strange animal prints. April wore a white bridal-like dress, only it was short and trashy, and totally not the kind of dress nice girls wore to church. Crowned with a silvery tiara, she had on long, white lace gloves and a tangle of beaded necklaces. She made a production of blowing a kiss in my direction. Claudia was at her side dressed in a tight fluorescent pink and black lace get-up that was drawing a lot of attention from the guys around her.

  She wasn’t supposed to come. I’d told her not to. Annoyed, I gave the whole of them a tight smile and concentrated on the music.

  We played through an eclectic mix of chart toppers for over an hour, keeping the place on their feet. The crowd ate it up, and the guys and I couldn’t have been more jazzed.

  “Time to bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan,” Dan shouted to us. It was our last number of the first set; we wanted to finish leaving them begging for more.

  I stole quick looks at Claudia dancing with April and the other bridesmaids. I couldn’t stop it. She seemed to be having a good time, letting loose and laughing.

  Bones started the familiar backbeat of “My Sharona,” and as soon as R.J.’s bass joined in, the room literally exploded. April threw her arms in the air and screamed. When I started the rift, the place became a sea of singing, moving bodies, and Dan’s voice was drowned out by the crowd singing the chorus.

  When the song ended, applause roared. It was awesome. We bowed, and Dan made a quick announcement that we were taking a break. A DJ took over and kept the music going. I leapt into the crowd, my head spinning with my high. I was feeling confident and maybe a bit too brazen. Hot bodies rubbed up against mine, hands tugged at my shirt, but I was intent on seeing the girls.

  They were doing a group shot when I came upon them. I grabbed April and spun her around. She shrieked, “Toby!” and threw herself into my arms, hugging and kissing me.

  “Is our bride-to-be having fun?” I asked her.

  “I am. The absolute best time, papi. Your band is fabuloso!” She kissed my face again. “You didn’t say hello to my chica, did you? Look! Look how cute she is.” She twisted me around, making me stumble in the process.

  I unscrambled myself from April’s arms and prepared to remain indifferent, but when I raised my eyes to Claudia, everyone else disappeared. My gaze lingered on her face—those lips, those eyes, made more dramatic with makeup, made it hard to swallow. My scrutiny caught on her chest. A tight pink bustier pushed everything she had up, openly displaying the creamy rounded top swell of her curves. I pressed my lips together, frowning, as further down, she was squeezed into a short black pleather skirt, her shapely legs darkened by the crisscross pattern of black fishnet stockings.

  A lecherous oaf bumped into her and openly gaped at her tits. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. I tugged Claudia closer until she bumped up against me, blocking the guy’s view of her. Like mine, her body was hot and damp. I blew a tight breath through my teeth and started moving her around the floor, slow dancing to some cheesy Eighties love ballad.

  “Not a fan of all the makeup,” I said in her ear. “But the outfit is something else.”

  She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. “June picked it out. There’s no stopping her when she gets an idea in her head.”

  I almost told her she looked amazing. Almost admitted what her outfit was doing to me. Almost told her how holding her made me feel.

  I dropped my arms and stepped back, my throat hot and dry.

  When I was ten, I tried to jump a ditch with my bike. I was the only neighborhood kid daring enough to try. Right before the ramp, I skidded on some sand and got tossed from my bike. It was a spectacularly bad fall. I’d broken my elbow and needed a bunch of stitches. As soon as I was able to ride, I bragged to everyone I would do it again even though I was sort of terrified about wiping out again. I prided myself on being fearless. Maybe it was my fear of looking weak, or just plain stupidity, but I did it and was heralded as the coolest, sickest kid on the block.

  I’d heard fear could paralyze one to inaction. Or one could use fear to give them strength to do the impossible. My break up with Claudia was like my bike accident. I was still beat up from it, and I was scared to try again. Unlike when I was ten, I wasn’t as stupid—or nearly as fearless.

  This time I would keep my distance.

  “Too noisy here. I’m going out back.” I motioned to the rear of the building, not inviting her or dismissing her. I stopped to get a plastic cup of iced water from the bar, not knowing if she was going to follow me. I told myself I didn’t care either way, but when I shouldered the back metal door open, she was right on my heels. Feeling haughty, I held the door open for her.

  We stepped out into the cool night air.

  “Looks like ‘Toby Faye: The Farewell Tour’ is a success. You guys have the whole place dancing and singing.” The lightness in her voice told me she knew I was annoyed. And she was trying to tame the lion before it sprang from the cage.

  She’d always been a sm
art girl.

  “It’s a good way to go out. I’ll definitely miss nights like tonight when the music comes easy and the crowd loves us,” I said, giving her that much. I downed the water, letting the icy liquid slide over my strained vocal chords, and clucked the empty cup in a nearby trash bin. “That doesn’t change the fact that you came despite my asking you not to.”

  “Once the bridal party found out about it, they all wanted to come.” She fiddled with a giant satin black bow on her hip. “I don’t know what your issue is with me being here. Everything is going great.”

  Sure, everything except that I couldn’t think straight with her so close and dressed that sinfully.

  She didn’t need to know that.

  “I’ve got a new gig lined up.” I crossed my arms, forcing my thoughts away from her body. “I spoke with Liz McCaffrey’s husband, Kellan. He hooked me up. I’m going to play baseball.”

  “That’s great. I’m really happy for you, Toby,” she said.

  “That’s not all. Liz called me again last week. Asked me to coach a Little League team, too.”

  She tipped her head against the wall. “I told her you wouldn’t be interested.”

  “I wasn’t, but she didn’t give in. Now I’m coaching little girls T-ball for Christ’s sake! Me of all people.” I choked out a laugh despite myself. “That woman is unbelievably pushy. I can’t seem to say no to her. Weirder still, I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

  “You’re doing it? Seriously?” She giggled, pushing up on her toes as she did. “You’re gonna be a great coach.”

  Her bubbly enthusiasm coupled with that smile, the one that lit up her eyes, knocked the sense from my head. Without thinking, I rested my hand on her shoulder near the arch of her neckline. I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t want to give her any hope, but touching her was a habit. She went still and silent as my thumb skated under the many layers of beaded necklaces to draw tiny circles on her warm, dampened skin.

  “Will you come watch me coach?” I whispered.

  Her eyes met mine, her pulse beating erratically under the pad of my thumb. Her lips parted with a yes, and I felt her soft breath on my face. Like flipping a switch, I felt myself losing control, every part of me responding to the pull in her eyes.

  She looked at me like I was the only person in the world, like all she needed was me—only me. It made me feel powerful, like I could slay dragons.

  I tried to look away, steel my resolve, but I caught the scent of her coconut shampoo and gave in. I wanted her like crazy. Coiling an arm around her waist, I pulled her against me.

  “Toby, I’ve missed you,” she said softly, music to my ears.

  Pressing her body against me, her fingers rose to curve around my neck. I groaned emboldened by her response and hoisted her against wall. The air between us was charged and alive, and I was belted with memories: how she looked with the sun shining down on her, how her fingertips felt on my face, how sweet her breath was when she whispered to me. And my heart began to swell with a need I knew too well.

  A need I didn’t want to feel.

  I sucked in a breath and willed the memories to stop, willed my heart to stop expanding and softening. I didn’t want to remember. I didn’t want hope. I just wanted to fuck.

  I boxed her in between the wall and my body and lowered my mouth, meaning to tease her, but she wasn’t having that and arched upwards to meet my lips with hers. Again I groaned, this time into her mouth. Our tongues danced, our kiss desperate, searching, stealing a moment, both afraid it would end.

  “Christ, I want you.” My hands strayed, one weaving into her hair, the other cupping her ass. My every nerve was tense. “Let’s go somewhere.”

  “You have a show to finish,” she said.

  There was a private bathroom just inside the door, and I imagined bracing her against the sink and pushing up that miniskirt. It would be really hot, but also really quick, and not nearly as satisfying.

  “Afterwards then,” I whispered, teasing her lips with slow, drawn out kisses. The chance of having her for a few hours, all to myself, was too good to pass up. “Come back to my house with me. No strings attached. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Her fingers stilled on my chest. She blinked slowly. “Just tonight, like a one night stand?”

  “It’s not so crazy. We’re familiar with each other, Claude.” My gaze was glued to her mouth, watching as I gently drew my thumb back and forth across her lips. “I want you, and if you’re honest, you’ll admit you want me just as much. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”

  I watched the thoughts play across her face like a movie screen. With a sigh, she pulled my hand away from her mouth, drawing my eyes back to hers.

  “We’re obviously still attracted to each other, but I’m not some booty call. I’ll never be that. I thought…” She brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face. “I had hoped you wanted something else, something more.”

  I was ready to take her home, remind her how good I could make her feel, but her words were like a fist squeezing my heart. I downshifted into self-defense mode. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’d go there with you again.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What happened to the guy at Easter, the one who convinced me to be daring and take my first motorcycle ride?”

  “He bought an angel statue for his mother’s grave because apparently that’s the kind of bullshit he does to get the girl.” I smacked my hand against the brick wall. “He doesn’t give a fuck about anything but getting what he wants. And he likes meaningless, casual fucking over being in love.”

  She sighed wearily, refusing to butt up against my temper. “How did you expect me to respond to the angel? It seemed like you’d had a change of heart overnight. I think you aren’t even aware why you bought it.”

  “I know you’re smart and intuitive, but stop psychoanalyzing me. You can’t expect to know how I feel. And anyway, you changed your mind about having a baby. Why is it so hard to for you to believe I couldn’t change mine?” My anger cooled to a low simmer, and I stepped away. “Wasn’t it you who said sometimes the belief comes first, that you need to believe it to see it?”

  She inhaled sharply, and I suspected for the first time she might actually believe me.

  I reached for the door handle, but her hand over mine stopped me.

  “Toby, please, wait. I admit I’ve refused to believe, to give you a chance to tell me how you felt. I don’t think I was ready to hear it. I’m sorry for that. But I’m ready now. Talk to me, please. I want to know.”

  She pulled my hand from the door and squeezed it, prodding me to look her, but I couldn’t. The early morning Easter service and ride to the cemetery had boosted my hope, but the reaction to the angel was a kick in the gut, the final blow. We were broken beyond repair.

  “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Nothing is going to change.”

  She shifted her feet and whispered, “It might seem insignificant to you, but it’s everything to me.”

  I was surprised at the inflection of hope in her tone and lifted my eyes to her. “Why?”

  “Because we’ve spent a lot of time together these last few weeks, done a lot of talking and laughing, and me, crying a bit, but every moment has been cathartic and healing.” She licked her lips. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how much we had together, and if you’re sincere about wanting kids and a family, then there’s nothing standing in our way anymore.”

  “No? You broke it off because you didn’t trust me—granted I gave you reasons to doubt me, but you gave up. You threw us away.”

  She sandwiched her hands around mine. “It’ll be different this time.”

  I tugged my hand free. “How? At some point, I’ll do something stupid and brainless, react badly to something I don’t know how to handle, and you’ll doubt me. You’ll push me away—again.” Turning my back to her, this time I didn’t hesitate. I yanked open the heavy steel door. The roar of the crowd and a blast of hea
t rolled over me. It turned my stomach. Clammy, I paused in the doorway and took a steadying breath. I loved her, probably always would, but it didn’t matter. Unless she promised me she wasn’t ever going to leave me, I couldn’t chance another go round with her.

  “You’re not as brave as I thought you were, Claude. You let me scare you away, and knowing that is why I can’t do it.” I threw one last look back at her.

  She caught her lip in her teeth, eyes lowered, and passing under my arm, she slipped inside, into the seamless crush of people. My heart flopped over in my chest and began racing. I fought off the urge to grab her and pull her back. Disappointing her was a godawful feeling, especially since, in reality, it was me who was the coward. The wounds were still fresh, and I couldn’t make myself get back on that bike.

  Losing her hurt so damn bad, but to love her and lose her again—

  I wouldn’t survive it.

  Chapter 37 • Claudia

  Devastated.

  That’s the only word to describe how I was feeling. I walked blindly through the thick crowd, not sure where I was going, only that I was moving away from Toby with my heart torn in two.

  “You-hoo!” April broke through a patch of people, her Madonna-like outfit winning her ogling stares as she pushed her way over to me. I’d kept my drinking to a minimum so I could make sure the night went off without a hitch, but after leaving the restaurant, the bridesmaids had upended several bottles of wine in the limousine on the ride there. We’d been at the Mad Monkey for a few hours, and I’d lost count of how many shots April and the other bridesmaids had downed.

  April snatched my forearm as if I might try to get away.

  “You and Toby lobstering again?”

  I shook my head. The band had begun to reassemble on stage, and Toby along with them.

  “No?” she asked, a small pout on her lips.