by Lily Bishop
Ric returned with the cider, but nothing for himself. He slid into the seat beside Lindsey and seemed content to listen to the music. Lindsey snuggled under his arm, loving how well she fit. Ric couldn't hear her over the music unless she shouted, so she just relaxed.
Rocky switched to a slow ballad that had crossed over to the pop charts. Lindsey closed her eyes and let the sound wash over her. As Rocky sang about a boy and a girl, she imagined that he sang about her and Ric. Nothing was ever as simple as the love songs sounded.
“The line must have been long,” Lindsey said, taking a sip of the cider.
“A little bit. Downstairs is standing room only now. Who is this guy? He’s good.”
“I don’t know. I guess he’s somebody local. He’s got a great voice.”
Sarah ignored them, watching Rocky as if he were the best thing she had seen in months. At least she had moved on from looking at Ric like he could be her last meal.
Lindsey finished her second cider about the time Rocky took a break and nudged to Ric that she was ready to go. They said their good-byes and made their way downstairs.
Ric was right. Downstairs, the bar was ten deep, and everyone crowded around. The few lucky enough to have tables or seats on the couches were moving. Ric pushed through, holding onto Lindsey’s hand and pulling her in his wake.
“Lindsey! Over here!”
Lindsey turned when she heard her name and saw one of the guys from the fencing club.
“Who is that?” Ric asked.
“Just a guy I met at fencing. Let’s go speak,” she told Ric, pulling him toward the back of the bar. She could feel Ric bristle beside her like a dog sensing another animal on his turf.
“Ric, this is Cayden, the president of the local fencing club. Cayden, this is my boyfriend Ric Salzana.”
Cayden’s eyes widened at the mention of Ric’s name. “Were you at the U.S. Fencing Championship in 2012?”
“I was,” Ric said, giving a short bow in acknowledgment.
“That was an amazing match. To lose in the finals like that. Wow.”
“It was a tough match, but I was proud to be there,” Ric said. “How long have you been fencing?”
“Ten years. I love it, but I’ve never managed to make it past regionals.”
Ric fished a business card out of his wallet. “Email me. I don’t have time this trip, but the next time I visit Lindsey I can look at your form and offer pointers.”
“Wow. Thank you. We tried to get Lindsey to train with us, but she said she doesn’t have the time.”
“My game has gotten rusty,” Lindsey admitted.
“Well, we are all still learning, and you almost beat Lilah, who is our best woman player.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Ric said.
“Almost doesn’t matter,” Lindsey argued. “Cayden, good to see you again.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Ric echoed.
“Likewise. And Lindsey, come back to the club. We’d love to have you.”
“I’m not making any promises, but I will try.” She smiled to soften the words, having no intention in joining them. She couldn't keep her head above water now.
When they opened the door to go outside, the heat rushed at them like they had opened an oven door. Lindsey’s glasses fogged up completely, and she pulled them off. Now that it was dark, the sidewalks were even more crowded with students heading in and out of bars. They held hands and didn’t even try to talk until they were at the car. Lindsey enjoyed his comforting grip on her hand as they navigated the crowds.
She leaned against her car door and looked up at him. He reached out and idly traced her nose and the small indent that her glasses had left.
“You are so beautiful—with or without your glasses. Your eyes are so expressive. How could you ever wear those horrible blue-colored contacts?”
Lindsey felt her face warm at the compliment. He remembered the fake contact lenses she had worn when they first met. “And you don’t miss the platinum hair? I can dye it you know.”
“God no. Even before I realized it was a wig, the color didn’t suit you.”
“And mousy brown does?” she said, but it came out more bitter than she intended. She buried her face in his shirt, embarrassed.
“Mousy brown? All I see is warm chestnut.” His finger lifted her chin up. “I love your hair.” She thought he was going to kiss her, but he pulled back.
“You have men left and right chasing after you. Should I be jealous of this Cayden?”
Lindsey laughed. “No, I think Cayden has his own boyfriend. At least, that was the impression that I got.”
“Why didn’t you continue with the club?”
“The timing didn’t work. Besides, I’ve got you. I don’t need to train with them.”
“I’m not here all the time. If you want to train with them, I don’t mind.” He paused for a moment and squeezed her hands. “That’s the first time you introduced me as your boyfriend.”
“You seemed upset earlier. I’m not ashamed of you.” Lindsey’s voice broke as she said the last few words.
“I know you’re not, and I’m sorry I let my temper get the best of me earlier. It’s hard to navigate this—what we have—but I’d still like to try.”
Lindsey leaned into him, feeling like a cat rubbing against a scratching post. “Me, too,” she said, stretching on her toes.
“Let’s go back to your house.”
#
At least Lindsey’s rental house was a decent size. Ric's last year in graduate school, he had lived in a garage converted into a tiny apartment. That place was out of hot water more often than not. He still shuddered at the memories. He could have paid for better, but he hadn’t wanted to dip into his inheritance from his mother. He had saved everything he could to launch his resort.
“What are you thinking about?” Lindsey asked when he was slow to get out of the car.
“Just remembering the dump I lived in when I was getting my Master’s. This is a nice house. I wish it had a security system, but I'm sure it will be fine."
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a safe neighborhood. I’ll be fine. I wanted something a little bit less like an apartment. That’s one of the reasons I jumped on the idea of a roommate.”
“But you have the money from winning the tournament,” he reminded her.
“I know, but that’s for a rainy day, or to get me started later. Not for general expenses.”
He understood her all too well. That was exactly how he had felt in Atlanta. He couldn’t help it if every fiber of him wanted to protect her and support her. He knew she liked being independent, and she wasn’t ready for a big commitment. He just had to be patient.
He wished he felt better about Ben and Scott Morton. Neither had done anything overt to make him not trust them, but he didn’t. It didn’t help that Scott had turned the color of his white shirt when he heard the name Salzana. Since Ric knew he hadn’t had any dealings with the man, it must be his cousin.
When Ric had met the Mortons earlier, the area between his shoulder blades itched like it was on fire. He never ignored the itching sensation between his shoulder blades. The premonitions had saved his life more than once.
While Lindsey took a shower, Ric slipped into Ben’s bedroom. Just a quick glance in a few drawers told him what he needed to know. He found drug paraphernalia and bottles of pills. In the closet, he stumbled onto a padlocked camouflage duffel bag. He would bet serious money that the bag held marijuana or other drugs. He left the room exactly as he had found it and returned to Lindsey’s bedroom, his heart pounding. With that big of a stash, Ben had to be dealing.
He froze when he saw the picture of them on the nightstand. She had taken the selfie when they were walking on the beach. He loved the picture, but the frame she had chosen had the words “Friends Forever” across the bottom.
Friends? The word cut like a sabre in the hands of a master. How could she think that, after everything? She couldn’t have
been any clearer about how she saw them. Why was he even here?
Lindsey came out of the shower, wrapped in a soft pink robe that outlined her nipples. He pushed that thought away. He needed time to think.
“After traveling all day, I’ll take a quick shower too,” he said, grabbing his shaving kit.
In the shower, Ric decided not to tell Lindsey about the drugs in Ben’s bedroom. If she knew about his snooping, it would damage their fragile, budding relationship.
The solution hit him as he dried off, and he couldn't believe he didn’t think of it sooner. Fox had given Ric a business card. When he returned to Calliope, he would tell Fox about Ben’s little stash. Fox and Laura would handle it.
What was it about Lindsey? Every time he took one step forward she knocked him two steps back. He thought they had a breakthrough standing at his car, but then they came back here and he saw that picture frame. He wanted her in his life as more than his friend. He wanted her to be his partner. Unfortunately, he had no idea what she wanted.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Connnection
Lindsey couldn’t stop fidgeting. She checked the lock on the front door for the second time. After all that time sitting at the bar, now she had the munchies. She picked up two water bottles and a bag of chips as she went through the kitchen.
She always got the munchies when she was nervous. Wasn’t that how everything had started? Ric hadn't paid attention to her until she turned house arrest into an impromptu floor picnic.
When he had sat down with her on the floor and played cards with her, she had seen him eye to eye. She had connected with him as a person, instead of this looming man who had dragged her into the elevator. Her feelings couldn’t be Stockholm Syndrome if she still felt the same way a month later, could they? He had no control over her now.
Laura could speculate about what had happened, but Ric had never threatened her. He had been a perfect gentleman. Annoying, but a gentleman nonetheless.
Lindsey may be the only girl in her generation to graduate from Florida State as a virgin. Since her mother's boyfriend had attacked her, she didn't want men to touch her. She managed handshakes, but in general she avoided incidental contact.
If it was a man she had liked, Ben for example, the three-foot radius shrank. With Ben, at first she thought she would have a chance. He didn’t bring about the withdrawal that she usually felt inside when she got near men. But then he had kissed her and she felt nothing, just the sensation of lips touching lips. Passion didn’t flare for either of them, and Ben never tried again. Neither of them had ever mentioned it.
Even with Ric, as much as she liked him, sometimes the panic flared. She would be sitting with him, happy as she could be, holding hands. The sensation would become too much, her skin would start to crawl, and she would pull back. It had happened less often the more she got to know him, but she lived in fear that it would happen again.
The water turned off just as she came into the bedroom. She had glad that her bedroom had an in suite bathroom. Now she locked the door and set the water bottles and chips on the nightstand. She couldn’t decide which light to leave on. The overhead light was too bright, and the reading lamp in the corner was even worse. She finally settled on the small lamp beside the bed. Maybe less light would help calm her nerves. She got into bed and pulled the cover up.
She didn’t own sexy sleepwear. She put on a long T-shirt, so worn it was almost sheer, with nothing underneath.
She looked around her room, happy with the furnishings she had chosen. She had picked a queen-sized sleigh bed, with a matching bureau and dresser. Finally, she had grown-up furniture. Her comforter and the matching valances were honey gold trimmed with deep purple.
The bathroom door drifted open just enough for the ceiling fan to pull steam into the bedroom. Lindsey heard the snapping sounds from the towel as he dried off. More sounds, accompanied by clicking and zippers. More water running. What was he doing? Why wouldn’t he come to bed?
Now the sounds came together as she heard him brushing his teeth. So much for the chips. Lindsey took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be long.
Another zipper sound and Ric stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette with the light behind him.
What was it about a man in a towel that brought women to their knees? It covered more than a bathing suit for heaven’s sake. Seeing Ric in a towel, Lindsey thought she knew.
Maybe it was the casualness of it: the towel slung across, half-tucked, tan line peeking. Perhaps it was the intimacy of his gaze and the thought that the towel could come down in a flash.
“Can you turn the bathroom light off?”
“If that’s what you want.” He reached behind him and the ribbon of light coming through the steam vanished. She had left just enough light so he could see the placement of the furniture.
“Last time you took a shower before bed, I was asleep when you came out.” Lindsey reminded him of that short night on the island when he had stayed with her.
“You were.” He crossed the room to where his bag rested on a chair.
“I’m not asleep now.” Lindsey tried to sound inviting, but it came out sounding petulant.
“No, you’re not. I left my shorts in my bag,” he explained.
“It’s okay. Come to bed.” She patted the bed beside her, but he continued to rummage in the leather duffel.
“Just a minute,” he said absently. She watched as he pulled a T-shirt over his head. She thought he would drop the towel, but instead he sat down and pulled on shorts under it. Who does that? She watched, bemused, as he returned to the bathroom to hang up the towel.
He came back to bed and slid in beside her. He turned on his side, his arm propping him up. His expression stayed in shadow. When he smiled, some of her tension eased. Lying beside him in the darkness, she didn’t feel the weight of his expectations.
Lindsey gathered her courage. “I’m more comfortable around you now. You didn’t have to get dressed.”
He squeezed her hand. “I thought you would feel better if I kept something on.”
“Yes, but—”
“Nothing has to happen tonight. We can just cuddle.”
Lindsey’s smile faded a little. She trusted him, if that was his concern. She reached for his shoulder, but encountered his cotton shirt. Wanting to touch him and not his shirt, she touched his forearm.
“I know, but I’m feeling better. I want to try.” The sound of his breath in and out was comforting. He wasn’t as immune to her charms as he wanted her to think.
“I’m old fashioned. I’d like there to be something more between us before we take that step.”
Lindsey lay back, frustrated. She couldn’t believe the turn this had taken. “You’re not waiting for marriage.”
“You’re right, but I’ve already had sex before. I’m a good bit older than you.”
“Sounds like a double standard to me,” she grumbled.
“No, that’s not it. I did have casual sex when I was younger. But that’s not where I am in my life right now. I’d like us both to be sure that we want a relationship before we take that step.”
Overwhelmed, Lindsey felt the tears welling behind her eyes. She would not cry over this. “Yes, but everything is so complicated. You live down there. I’m up here. I’ve just started this degree program—”
“Yes to all those things, all reasons why we should wait. This thing between us, whatever it is, is too unsettled right now.”
How could he sound so calm and even when Lindsey felt like she could come apart at the seams? “I’m not ready to get married,” she said, pouting.
“I know. And that’s okay too. When you’re ready for us to be together, you’ll know it.” Lindsey didn’t respond, so he continued. “I want you any way I can get you, and if that means taking it slow, I’m good with that. No pressure, no regrets. Bien?”
She lay down, her head on the pillow now, just beneath him.
“I trust you,” she whispered. She traced his
shoulders with her fingertips. She thrilled at the power there, knowing that he held himself in check for her. Someday soon she hoped he wouldn’t hold himself back. “I want us to be together. I don’t want to keep pushing you away.”
“You’re not.” He leaned closer and their lips met with just a touch before he kissed her properly. “There are other things we can do, other areas to explore.”
Lindsey pulled him towards her. She wanted to kiss him. She teased his lips with just a touch. He tasted of mint, but she caught a whiff of beer on his breath.
Their legs shifted closer. Lindsey felt the tension leave her. She relaxed into his arms.
Ric’s kiss felt tentative at first, but then it deepened. Desire surged through her, edging out the last bit of fear. The sheet tented above Ric’s shoulders, cocooning them together. Lindsey didn’t need the warmth, but she savored the extra feeling of security.
When he turned on his side Lindsey slid closer. She snuggled under his neck, leaving feather light kisses along his collarbone.
“You know you drive me crazy.” Ric’s voice sounded tortured. She smiled against his skin.
“Good. Then we’re even.”
His hands traced her back, massaging and kneading until she wanted to purr. She could feel his heat through her thin cotton top, and her nerves weren’t begging her for isolation. It was a start.
She heard jingling keys outside her window. She recognized the sounds of Ben coming in late, but Ric stiffened. She heard his boots across the wooden boards of the porch and his key turning in the lock.
“It’s just Ben coming in. Ignore him,” Lindsey said.
Despite her attempt to smooth over Ben’s arrival, Ric rolled over on his back. He left his arm up so she could slide in beside him, but the fun, playful mood had shattered.
“He won’t bother us,” Lindsey said, her voice low. She could hear cabinets banging open and dishes rattling. What was he doing? She was about to reach over and turn on the radio to block his noise when there was a loud knock on bedroom door.
“What is it?” she said, irritated.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
