The tip of his tongue made its way to the corner of his mouth before he spoke. “I’m a big guy, Trista.”
“Yes, you are.” She winked.
The automatic shut-off lever popped out of place and the clicking sound jerked them from the playful back and forth. Before he replaced the nozzle, Lucky leaned down and kissed her. Her hands fisted themselves in the pockets of her gray and white striped dress and sheer giddy desire lifted her up onto her tiptoes. For wanting to see Lucky’s face, she opened her eyes and noticed another car had pulled in. Normally it wouldn’t have mattered but this particular group of citizens brought out her reluctant side. The new patrons were a grandma and grandpa.
Lucky chuckled. “So you do have some modesty left in you. Good girl. I knew it was in there somewhere.”
“Lucas Dylan…”
Lucky held his hands up but then reached down into the left pocket of her dress. He pulled out her keys and kissed on the tip of her nose.
“You go on inside. I’ll park this…sin wagon.”
Oh, so he was a Grease fan. She wondered if she reminded him of Sandy caught between her leather and pom-poms.
“Hey…it’s not a sin wagon, yet.” She made to swat him on the shoulder but he hopped into the driver’s seat so quickly she had to step back so he could pull through without getting her toes. With his hair tethered in its usual ponytail, the lines that formed all the way back to his ear from his wide grin were plain as day.
She’d show him a sin wagon, one of these days.
“Where do we go from here?” Lucky asked from the driver’s seat.
Here was Amarillo, Texas. They’d left Oklahoma’s red clay and sprawling rural landscape for the flat northern section of the Lone Star State. The wind howled like crazy and for once she wished she had something a little sturdier than plastic pull ups for windows. She should have known her bun would be the first casualty. As soon as her crazy curls were free, they took to the wind and flew in a southerly direction, snapping at Lucky’s cheek.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry. Did I get you?” She was concerned but kept up the fight to tie her hair back up. Finally after a few twists and turns, she had almost succeeded. “Sorry, Medusa’s back under wraps.”
“Yeah, wow.” He rubbed his cheek and then returned his hand to the wheel. “I didn’t know your hair was that long. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it down before. Have I?” he asked after glancing her way.
Not many men would look at a woman with longing and respect at the same time like Lucky did. The more comfortable she became with him, the freer she felt to enjoy herself under his heated gaze. She bit her bottom lip and ever so slowly, let it slip back out from under her teeth. The way he watched her do that sent an excited shiver to her core. She wiggled in her seat under the sudden intense tingling sensation.
“I don’t think you have. Would you like to?” There was just something about teasing him that was hard to resist. Maybe it was how safe she felt sitting next to a good and strong man.
He answered her dryly as if the lashing of air had stripped his throat of its moisture. “Like I really need to answer that.”
She let his comment slide into the night wind. She understood his want and shared it.
“Oh, you had asked where we’re heading. I usually stop in New Mexico, spend the night and then drive straight through to Cali the next day.”
“So tonight we stay in New Mexico and then tomorrow…”
“Yes?”
“Tomorrow, you’re home.” Lucky’s lips curled in, sealing around the last word.
“You don’t sound very thrilled at the idea. I thought you said you were looking forward to this meeting and seeing Jaxon.” It seemed neither of them was exactly in a hurry to get back.
“I am.”
So he thought he was going to snuff out his feelings by short changing them. When would Lucky learn that she was too good at this stuff?
“So, did you want to tell me more about your plans for while you’re in town? I was curious, you know,” she said as he adjusted in his seat.
That lightened up the straight line of his jaw. A little.
* * * *
Lucky still didn’t understand how it was she had traveled so often with Jaxon without something happening between them. The single beds in the hotel rooms, the dark nights flying down the roads cross-country in the privacy of their vehicle. If he’d been given that kind of open access to a woman as beautiful and spirited as Trista, there would be no question of the things he’d be trying to get away with.
And he had some manners. What he knew of his cousin was that as a younger man, Jaxon had been wild. They hadn’t spent much time together in quite a while but he knew enough to put the questions in his mind, over and over again, where Trista was concerned. She had denied the insinuation once. To bring it up again would be cowardly. Weak.
They continued west on I-40, finally passing the boarder out of Texas and into New Mexico. The sun was setting in swatches of peach, wisteria and plum. He’d never seen such a wide open sky and the dusty blue color of it was magnificent.
Trista rekindled her question. “So, your plans?”
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I had mentioned to Jaxon a while back that I’d wanted to branch out. Maybe start with something small, just me and a few hands in a little shop. See what I could do, how long I could last. He said he had some contacts for me and now two years later, I’ve got a meeting with a finance guy who might be interested in backing me for the startup costs.”
“And tell me exactly what it is that you do.”
Her wide-eyed stare made him feel the need to impress. But he had to tell her the truth. “I make custom wood furniture. Mostly chests and frames but I also like to do lamps and things like, I don’t know…racks. It doesn’t sound very exciting, I know...” He raised his thumbs up together on the top of the steering wheel, feeling a little underwhelming as he offered up his life’s passion to a girl who lived amongst rock stars.
“Yes it does. I think it sounds very…very fascinating. I’d love to see something you’ve made. So you do the actual work, with your own hands?” she asked while staring at his fingers.
He coughed to clear his throat and mind, then checked himself in the visor’s mirror, afraid his face may have given him and his fantasy away. “Yeah, it’s a pretty okay job. I enjoy it.” He flipped the visor back up.
“Lucky, it’s more than that. Would you ever consider making something for me?”
“Anything you’d like.”
“I’ll have to think about something then. So is your plan to set up shop in California?”
It sounded an awful lot like she’d like that.
“Yeah, I thought I’d give it a shot. From what I understand, Jaxon’s guy knows of some…” He didn’t want to use the word cheap but that’s what it was. “…less expensive commercial lots. All I really need is a roof and four walls but I guess out there, there’s a little more to it than that.”
He’d done some research and knew of the bylaws and codes for small businesses in California. And the taxes. It was ambitious to make a go of it in such a vastly different environment but he’d never shied away from a challenge before. And he knew a lot about hard work.
“And where and how long do you plan to stay?”
There they were—the questions he’d been glad not to have to answer up ‘til now.
“Darlin’, initially I can only stay for a few days.”
Her sweet lips deepened into a pout.
“A few days?”
“Yes.” God, why hadn’t he told her that sooner?
* * * *
A few days? That was nowhere near long enough.
She was ready now for change in her life but she would probably need months, not days. Geez, at least a week or two.
Traveling with and working for the band was a privileged job and she knew it. She was afforded many luxuries that most people would never dream of. Four star hotels, the chance to see the world from a
private jet, the best of everything. But she also knew the flip side to those cherry dreams. The level of work it required and not just the kind that left you feeling you had done your best at the end of each day. This was a life that required a person give more pieces of himself than he should. One you didn’t ease out of over a long weekend.
Speaking of needing out, Jaxon had lost it, several times. But he’d learned quickly how to bounce back and swore it was all worth it to be up on that stage and see the girl with the sad eyes become happier as he sang his songs.
The problem was, she was tired of all the bouncing. And her reward had never been quite as good as Jaxon’s.
She looked at Lucky and admired the way his hair didn’t slap him in the face as the wind tumbled through their space. He knew exactly where he was and where he was going.
“Then that will have to be enough,” she said. “It’ll have to be.”
Chapter Eleven
Having the excuse now of speaking with Lucky, Jaxon’s protective big brother side was “checking in”. Regularly. Vangie had to be grinding her perfectly whitened molars at that.
“Hello?” Lucky’s velvety suede voice broke through the sleepy morning air as he answered the phone and wiped a hand over the Jeep’s seat then looked up at her, shaking his head but smiling. She’d left her windows open all night and the seats were chilly. Lucky, phone cradled between his cheek and shoulder, quickly unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out a hooded sweatshirt, then laid it down over the driver’s seat.
“Thank you,” she mouthed to him as he listened to who she assumed was Jaxon on the cell phone.
“Yep, she’s here. Hold on.”
Big brother would have to wait a second while she tugged the seat back up so that her feet would again be able to reach the pedals after Lucky had driven the day before.
Lucky whispered, “It’s Jaxon. He wants you…to talk to you, I mean.”
She smiled at his stuttering and caressed his fingers as she tried to take the phone. He didn’t let go before giving her a sweet kiss. The intoxicating mixture of Coke and Tic-Tacs tumbled from his tongue to hers. He broke away with a seriousness about him.
“Hey Jaxon, what’s up? Why didn’t you just call my number?” But she knew why. Vangie. Calls made. It would be evidence at the witch’s fingertips.
Too bad it wasn’t like the good old days when Vangie had at least had to wait for the monthly phone bill to arrive to scourge it for their calls.
“Sounds like you’re in a good mood, darl’. Have a good night of sleepies?” Jaxon asked, his rhymey phrasing hopping across the line.
She should toy with him just as he would have with her. “A very nice night of sleepies, and you?” She cooed the words intentionally like her namesake, Norma Jeane Baker. If Jaxon didn’t want to hear about her time with Lucky, he shouldn’t ask. And if he got territorial, their communication would stop. Lucky goosed her with a raised eyebrow.
Besides, there wasn’t much to share. She’d spent a half-hour cursing the inventor of the southern gentleman and Mother Nature as she lay in the hot tub of water in their hotel room last night. While Lucky and his long legs lay sprawled across the bed, his foot bobbing up and down. Maybe she should buy him a magazine at the next Truck Stop.
She continued on with Jaxon. “So hey, we’ll be there sometime tonight. We’re leaving Gallup now.”
“That late, really?”
The man had no concept of how long it took to drive somewhere that wasn’t his house, his studio or the beach. “Yes, really. It’s a nine hour drive, at least, Jax. Besides, I’m in such good company; I’m not in that big a hurry to ditch him with you.”
Lucky looked like he was about to sneeze but apparently the open mouth, raised brows and saucer-like eyes meant he was shocked because she read his lips as he mouthed, “I can’t believe what you’re saying to him.”
She winked then returned to her call. “Okay, so you still want me to drop Lucky off at the studio?” Her voice high-tailed it at the end because she had hopes for something else.
But Jaxon hadn’t changed the plan. She shouldn’t have expected him to.
They said their short goodbyes. She hung up.
Gripping the steering wheel like it was a lifeline—one filled with bitter memories—she drove them to the highway, trying not to let her pissed-off-ness ruin this last part of the trip.
“What’s wrong?” Lucky asked as he angled himself toward her.
“Nothing.”
“Trista…”
“I’ll be dropping you off at the studio tonight. Jaxon’s gonna meet us there. You’ll get to see where I spend most hours of my day.”
She should have sounded happier at the idea, but she was temporarily on hiatus from that emotion.
Lucky surprised her with a bit of intuition. “Jaxon’s wife is really that jealous of you?”
“She’s not his wife, and yes.” She hadn’t meant to speak through her teeth. It wasn’t Lucky’s fault he’d picked up on the ridiculous situation.
“For good reason?”
“No.” Her word bit with the crispness of a tart Granny Smith.
“So where do you stay, when you’re not at the studio, working all the time?”
“I rent a cottage in the back of this really nice couple’s main house.”
Why did he look stunned? Did he imagine her living in a fancy apartment or condo somewhere on the beach or in the city? But the next words out of his mouth cleared it up. He had other concerns.
“Is it very far from Jaxon’s place?”
“About twenty miles south of him. Why?” She had to ask because in all honesty, she couldn’t get a read on why he sounded so nervous.
“I uh, I just thought that if you don’t live too far away from the office I’ve got to be at tomorrow morning for my meeting, maybe I could crash at your place instead.”
The thought of hosting him herself had never even entered her mind. And it was a very tempting thought. But Lucky was Jaxon’s blood, his family. Something her best friend had little of. “I think Jaxon is looking forward to having you. And Maryella, too.”
“No, you’re right.” He looked down to his lap. “I shouldn’t have imposed myself on you like that. I just thought…”
Great, he thought she was blowing him off.
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that I doubt I’ll even sleep at home tonight or tomorrow night. That’s how much work I’ve probably got piled up on my desk. This tour starts in two weeks. I’m most likely studio-bound and looking to be eating lots of cup of noodle soups until we hit the road. I’m happy to give you my key but it will be a much nicer stay if you go to Jaxon’s. That’s all. I didn’t mean that I didn’t want you to stay with me.”
Now there was a look she knew well—offended—droopy eyes and the deep outlet of heavy breath that always went along with it in the male species. She realized that for all intents and purposes, she’d just told him that she wanted him around but just didn’t have the time for him.
* * * *
Man, he’d just overstepped a boundary and landed his boot in a big ole dish of humble pie. Not that it was her fault, but she didn’t have three days’ time to give him? After all they’d been through and shared so far? That stung. He’d never mention this to Trista, but to make this trip on her schedule, he’d left his dad and uncle in a bind to finish a custom furniture job he’d started. One he knew his family was counting on to hopefully boost their upcoming holiday orders. Otherwise he’d have finished it to his standard then made his own way out west. The ’84 GMC truck he’d just rebuilt and planned to drive sat parked in the driveway of his small house, probably covered in a nice coat of fuzzy, yellow pollen and sawdust. Not a good thing for the baby blue paint job he’d stayed up late to finish before heading to the city to meet Trista.
The truth of it though was none of that had mattered to him once he’d seen her and then found out how much she really needed someone to be with her. He shook his head and cra
cked his knuckles, sure of some things and completely out of ideas for others.
So asking to stay with her had bombed. Good thing he hadn’t acted on last night’s crazy idea to offer to fly her back to Tennessee once this tour was over. Again, none of this was her fault. It was her life and she hadn’t kept it a secret from him. He told himself that a few more times.
She reached a dainty finger out and pushed play on her CD player. The music was slow, layered with beats and sounds he hadn’t heard mixed together in that way before. The singer began with a low moan. Trista began to sing along quietly.
“Hurt, you know its name. Burn, you’ve touched the flame. When I’m inside you, your flesh I’ll claim. You drive me insane. Insane.” Then a pounding surge of bass guitar thudded through the words, drowning out the singer’s deep voice.
“Is that Jaxon’s band?” he asked her, impressed if it was. Talking about music with her was better than sitting there in silence. Even if it was about Jaxon’s music.
“Mm-hmm. Yeah, it’s on the new album. Do you like it?”
He chose his words carefully. “It’s very…erotic.”
“I know. It’s Jaxon.”
Would all their conversations about his cousin lead back to his sexual prowess? Lord he hoped not.
“It’s different. Kind of depressing though,” he said.
“I guess you’re right. He’s got some depressing things to get off his chest.”
“Like this Vangie woman?”
He watched her face closely, curious to see if the mention of Vangie’s name irritated her as much as talk of Jaxon did to him. Her jaw shifted and he had his answer.
“Yeah,” she said.
“You don’t bad talk her very much, but it sounds like you have good reason to.”
“Well, I don’t see how it would make a difference. I’ve realized the best thing I can do is stay away, keep my distance as much as possible. It makes things easier for Jaxon.”
“How is that possible? It seems like it would be pretty hard.”
“It’s harder when we’re on the road because we’re kind of stuck together. But when we’re at home, I just do my thing at the studio during the day. He’s usually there at night. We live far enough apart so that we don’t run into each other very often. But yeah, on tour it gets interesting.”
Sidewalk Flower Page 11
