Turn It Up

by Inez Kelley

  Chapter Six

  “Sit tight, sugar, and I’ll be right back. You’re Hanging Out with Honey, straddling the night and riding into morning. Back in three.”

  Bastian turned the volume down as an advertisement for a local florist shop covered Charlie’s sultry tones. The faint buzz from the refrigerator echoed in the darkened kitchen interrupted only by the drone of muted static. A quick glance at the stovetop clock told him he had another half hour to kill until Justine left the station for the night. Then Charlie would be there, alone. Normally he hated that she was alone in the small station in the wee hours but tonight he was grateful. Groveling was hard enough without an audience.

  Shuffled feet brought his eyes to the doorway.

  “Since you aren’t bolting for the door, I assume the hospital didn’t call. That must mean you’re going to Charlie.” Caz’s smirk disappeared inside the fridge. “I swear you act married already. You two even fight like an old married couple.”

  “You heard that?” Face warming, Bastian wished he could crawl inside his coffee cup.

  “Yeah, I heard.”

  “Sorry. I tend to forget there are other people in the house at times. We shouldn’t have yelled.”

  Caz shrugged and held out a foil-covered bowl of cold chicken wings. Bastian shook his head.

  “No big deal. Fighting wasn’t all I heard.” He winked at Bastian. The blushing warmth increased to mortified heat as his brother chuckled. “Don’t sweat it. Charlie’s just vocal, means you must’ve been doing something right. You surprise me. Didn’t think you had it in you. There may be hope for your man-whore ways yet.”

  The coffee lost all flavor and Bastian poured it down the sink. Rinsing the cup became a mission as his mind wandered. He didn’t want man-whore ways; he just wanted Charlie. Their arguments were infrequent but explosive. He’d always chalked it up to her being a passionate person and bringing out the fire in him.

  But she could burn with words.

  “Leave the porch light on. I’ll head out in a few minutes. Once I figure out how to drive with my tail tucked so far between my legs.”

  “You scare her.” Mouthed around cold chicken, Caz’s words were garbled as he hoisted his behind onto the counter.

  The mug smacked the sink. “That’s the second time today I’ve heard that but I don’t buy it. Charlie knows I’d never hurt her.”

  “No, but she’s never given you that power. Think about it, man. Littlebit’s a headlining one-woman show. You’re asking her to share billing, bus space and a road crew.”

  “Is it possible for you to speak in nonmusical terms?”

  Caz tossed a cleaned wing bone onto the discarded foil and wiped his fingers down his jean-clad knees. “If something works, she did it. If something fails, she did that, too. Eddy’s a great lady but she was a lousy mom. Charlie doesn’t depend on anyone but Charlie. I don’t think she knows how.”

  “She depends on me.” Bastian protested his brother’s words but a trickle of truth wouldn’t be denied.

  Caz bit into another wing before agreeing. “Sure, as a friend. She’s comfortable with that, but she wasn’t always. How long did it take you all to, I don’t know, exchange house keys in case of emergencies and responsible shit like that?”

  Bastian bit his cheek against the rationale. “Couple years.”

  “See? Charlie doesn’t trust easy. She trusted you, though, and you shook her world up. Give her time, quit pushing. I heard the commercial for your show today, the bet you guys have going? If she’s worth waiting for in bed, wait on the ring. No rush, is there?”

  Eyes narrowed, the older watched the younger with a new sense of respect. “I hate it when you make sense.”

  “I know. Totally blows my image as the messed-up asshole, doesn’t it?” Beaming an infectious grin, Caz suddenly looked like the brother he used to know, the one who raided his Playboy stash and listened in on phone calls with girls. The bratty little kid who’d made his life hell until the neighborhood bully picked on him and Bastian would come out with flying fists. The same child who’d whip out a sonata while his older brother struggled with scales.

  Flashes of fishing trips and campouts and late-night movies rushed him. They’d been close once. Bastian missed this brother. “How’ve you been?”

  Used to the question and all its hidden meaning, Caz wobbled his head with a strained sigh. “It’s easier than it was.”

  “Good to know but I meant in general. How are you? What’s going on in your life?”

  Paler brown eyes looked away. Caz worked his way through three wings in silence.

  Over four years filled with meaningless pleasantries and distanced silences ate at Bastian. His life was changing. Why shouldn’t he include his brother in that change, try to find whatever it was that they’d lost? “We don’t talk anymore. Why?”

  “Life, Bastian. Shit happens and things change.” The bone-laden foil crunched loudly as Caz balled it up. It hit the trash with a thud. “Both our lives crashed the same year. We lived through it but we’re both different men because of it.”

  Crashed. That was one way of looking at it, Bastian supposed. In a twelve-month span, his marriage had ended, his brother had OD’d and his mother had died. No, he was no longer the same man he had been. It was unfair to assume Caz was any different.

  He looked with a new perspective at the man in front of him. How many meals and talks had this kitchen hosted? It seemed every important conversation growing up had centered in this room. What better place to try to reconnect with the man his brother had become? “You’re right. But you’re still my brother. No divorces, drugs or daily life can change that.”

  “I don’t need a lecture, all right?”

  Bastian shook his head. “I’m not lecturing. You used to call just to bullshit. Now you don’t.”

  Caz studied the cabinet door. “Don’t know what to say to you most days. I never know if you’re working or sleeping or whatever. I hate to bug you.”

  “Bug me,” Bastian ordered. “Why stop now? You’ve been bugging me since the day you were born. That’s what little brothers do.”

  “Little brothers grow up,” Caz snapped. His shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes. “Stop treating me like a kid. I’ll call more, okay? But the phone lines work both ways. I don’t know what’s going on with you, either.”

  “True. Okay, rundown. A year ago, I looked at Charlie and realized she meant more to me than just a friend. But I didn’t say anything until we went camping. We made out, I proposed, she said no, and I refuse to sleep with her until she says yes. I’m tired of the ER and put out feelers. Got a nibble at the UC. So now I’m switching jobs and celibate. There, you’re all caught up with me.”

  “You suck at replays.” Caz snickered.

  “Your turn. Catch me up, what have I missed with you?” Something flickered on Caz’s face and Bastian waited, but it passed and he let it. Reconnection took time. Time he promised himself he’d find.

  “Later. You’d better head out. Good luck.”

  “Thanks. Any more man-whore insights on pissed-off women you want to share?”

  Caz laughed. “Protect your balls. Heels hurt like a bitch.”

  A womb. That was always how Charlie thought of the broadcast room late at night. She kept it dark, soothing, for the type of music she played through the night. The glow from the instruments and computer panel illuminated enough for her needs. Until the fire marshal stopped it, she’d kept a candle burning. Now she was reduced to using a Crock-Pot-type thing to melt scented waxes in. The small space cradled her but this was her domain, her refuge. From when Justine left at one until the day manager came in at five, it was her, the music and the airwaves. Four little hours that she controlled, the queen of all she surveyed.

  “Welcome back, sugar. The night is upon us and filled with the sleepy sounds of the world at rest. If you’re joining me, it’s because you too are a being of the night. We live and work while others sleep, an echo
to their daily grind. Night grinding is always more fun, don’t you think? So do your business and grind with me. Let me take you to my Eden, my nighttime paradise. Bask in the rhythms of the classics, let them soothe your worries away. Let’s work on some ‘Night Moves’ with Mr. Bob Seger.”

  The music keyed up and filled the room, Charlie swaying in her chair. An unfamiliar creak tickled the hair on her neck and she spun to the door. After Justine had left, she’d engaged the alarm. No one could have gotten in without a card key. Only a few people had them but none were due in for hours. Her eyes flew to the wooden baseball bat Bastian insisted she keep behind the door. Too far. In her purse was a can of pepper spray, but her purse was in the break room. Shit. Well, the hot wax might come in handy after all.

  A single daisy held in a masculine hand reached around the doorway. “I come bearing gifts.”

  A smile fought the stiffness she forced into her mouth as Bastian stepped around the door frame. How adorable he looked when sheepish. Those toffee eyes darkened to caramel and his strong shoulders slumped. He held the daisy out to her but she ignored it, not ready to forgive just yet.

  “Is there a diamond clause in accepting a flower?”

  “No. Just a ‘forgive me for being a dick’ clause.”

  The bright pink Gerber daisy had been plucked from the potted urn outside the station but the gesture was sweet. By allowing her smile and taking the stem from his fingers, she transformed his face. Gone was the hound dog frown, and the gentle grin she loved appeared.

  “I’m sorry. Can we chalk it up to blue balls talking?”

  “Wow, your balls sound just like you.” She twirled the flower under her nose once before laying it aside, a splash of color in the dim room. “You meant it or you wouldn’t have said it, even in anger.”

  “Okay, I meant it.” He shrugged. “I think you’re hiding behind sex to not face your feelings. But I didn’t have to say it like that so, I’m sorry.”

  Silk and chocolate were the two most decadent things she knew, but they couldn’t compete with his voice. If he could carry a tune in a two-handled bucket, he’d give Caz a run for his money. Instead, he simply thrilled her daily by saying her name.

  “I’m pushing too hard, I guess. I never meant to make you feel cheap. Far from it, you’re worth waiting for. For a night or a month or a year, whatever it takes, I’m here forever. When you’re ready to say yes, the offer stands. Cold showers never killed anyone, I guess.”

  Her throat ached and her eyes stung. No one knew her like Bastian. Somehow, he always knew exactly what she meant and what she wanted, even when she was confused herself. “So still no sex without a yes?”

  His normal chair sat empty and he eased into it with a sigh. She felt his restraint like an invisible wall. Walls that shouldn’t be breached because they grew out of the thing she loved most about him, his steady, unwavering integrity. It also irritated her to no end.

  Pushing the hair out of his face, he leaned forward. The familiar concentrated stance tugged at her heart. “Forget the show and the race or contest or whatever you want to call it. Go back to the lake, what I told you there. I want to show you love outside the bedroom before I show you inside. I’m not dangling a carrot and, despite the Honeypot, I know you’re not that free with your body. I want to show you forever is real.”

  One finger held up, she swiveled and punched in another song selection. The move gave her time to digest his words and phrase her own. Talking with Bastian had always been easy but sometimes she simply didn’t have the words to give him. Somehow, even then, he seemed to know her heart.

  She faced the console, unable to face him. “Love isn’t easy for me, you know that. My track record sucks. I just don’t know if I can be what you need me to be.”

  “I need you to be yourself. Why would I want you to change?”

  His sweetness made her teeth ache. People didn’t really talk like this, did they? Her eyes dropped to his hands and she curved hers around them. He echoed the move, lacing his fingers in hers. Drawing strength from his touch, one fear spilled out in a whisper.

  “And what happens if, for whatever reason, I can’t say yes? If I can’t marry you, then what happens? Do I lose everything?”

  There was no hesitation in his words, not the smallest flicker of doubt. “I’m not going anywhere. Part of believing in forever is believing in your partner. I’ve always believed in you. I know you believe in me. You just have to get used to the idea of believing in us.”

  “Pretty tall order.”

  “Nah, you already believe it inside. Come on, you’ve let me drive your Firebird, haven’t you? That takes a lot of believing.”

  The tease worked like a magic spell, calling forth a smile where she thought none existed. Tugging on his hands, she pulled him closer and smacked his lips with hers. He pulled her back and pressed a firmer kiss to her mouth before releasing her. He winked.

  “I brought you another present. Want it?”

  A laugh shot through her, pure unfiltered joy. “Are you trying to bribe me into forgiving you?”

  “I’m not above it.” He shrugged.

  “Where is it?”

  “Change the music, I’ll be right back.”

  He was gone only a minute but it was enough time for her to intone a few steamy words over the air and cue up a commercial block. The next three songs waited a simple finger touch.

  “Close your eyes.”

  She clamped her eyes shut until a slight chill passed her face and then she popped them open without permission. Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia tempted her, opened, spoon at the ready, in all its rich pink ooey-gooeyness. She had the spoon in her mouth before she took the carton from his hand. Luscious chocolate and cherry exploded on her tongue, her eyes closing in bliss. Bastian knew her well. Nothing soothed a bitch like Ben and Jerry’s.

  His soft laugh broke through her solitary delight as he sat back into his chair. “Watching you eat ice cream is like pornography. No one else I know enjoys it like you do.”

  Licking one escaped smear off the spoon, Charlie grinned at him. “That’s why I ration myself. I like to prolong the anticipation between treats. You should understand the theory.”

  Sensual tension flared as their eyes locked. With slow, measured movements, she dipped the spoon and brought it to her lips. The frozen cream was scooped by a teasing tongue. His indrawn breath stroked her inner diva. Three more sensual bites had him fisting his hands. When he licked his lips, she spooned out a bite and held it to him.

  “Come and get it.”

  She pulled the spoon back, drawing him near, before allowing him to taste the ice cream, millimeters from her mouth. He took the bite, smiling at her in lusty patience before whispering, “Dead air.”

  Her touch sparked more music to life. While her head was turned, his chilled lips fell on the curve of her neck. Freezer-cold and fiery-hot, his mouth scored a line up her jaw to lick the cherry from her mouth.

  “I hate Cherry Garcia.” His words were chocolate-flavored. “But I love you.”

  Charlie ignored the last half of his sentence. “It just means more ice cream for me.”

  He leaned back, removed the carton from her hands and fed her a small bite. “I learned something about you today.”

  “Oh? What?” A full cherry found its way onto her tongue.

  “You’re a noisy lover.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t hold back. Sure you can handle that when the time’s right?”

  “Absolutely.” He fed her another bite. “No way you faked that.”

  “No way.”

  He blew out a breath. “You’re going to keep tormenting me, aren’t you? Teasing me until I think about nothing else but making love to you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Ice cream melted in the carton as she pressed her lips to his. She slid from her chair to his lap, legs straddling his hips. Cold fingers skimmed her hips before stroking her back, pulling her tight. Charlie loved the feel of h
im beneath her. In tune with her every move, he echoed her mouth with abandonment. Sex with him would be fantastic.

  The selected songs played through and the ice cream softened while they kissed, never once parting. Just before the last chords of Led Zeppelin faded, Bastian released her mouth and allowed her to turn.

  Nuzzling her hair as she cued up more songs, he cupped her breasts, circling hardened nipples through her blouse. Her hips rocking back into his forced an anguished groan past his lips.

  “I have to go. My shift starts in a few hours. And I’m going to try to be here when Nathan comes in.”

  A discontented purr escaped but she eased back to her own chair. Prolong the anticipation. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. I wonder if there’s a world record for cold showers in one day.”

  Her laugh made him smile, and his smile warmed her soul. Cherry Garcia couldn’t hold a roman candle to the sweetness in Bastian Talbot.

  At the threshold, he stopped, hand on the frame. His eyes snagged hers and held them.

  “Charlie, about what you said while I was in the shower…I’m well aware that you don’t need me for certain things. But I’d like to think you want me. Just in case, I got you another present.”

  He drew a small white bag from his pocket and tossed it to her. She caught it awkwardly in one hand, juggling the carton in the other. Then he was gone. She set the ice cream on the console ledge and opened the bag. The outer door latched as her laughter burst out.

  Bastian had bought her batteries.

  Pain throbbed at the back of her skull. Charlie rubbed the knot of exhausted tension out of the base of her neck and dared a glance at Bastian. A tic jumped in his jawline. The hard glower lasering from his eyes should have made Nathan wet his pants but the geeky little station manager ignored it, all puffed up with his self-importance.

  “You think I’m joking? I’ll cancel that fucking show faster than you can slap a flea.”

  “So do it,” Bastian snapped. Charlie jerked her head toward him and her jaw dropped. What was he doing? Bastian knew she needed this job.