I got to tour with Jenny, Mike, and Walsh for a few months, and it was great, but not the same as Lush. The music was very different, the vibe was different, and as much as I like Jenny, she’s no Joss Jamison.
When rehearsal finishes I hop in the car they sent for me. Then I pull my phone out as we make our way back to the hotel.
“Hello?” Joss’s deep voice sounds tired.
“Hey, man. It’s only eight there, were you already asleep?”
“Hey. No, I’m fucking wiped out. We had dinner with Mel’s parents tonight and Mama D. talked my damn ear off about the wedding plans.”
I can’t help but laugh. Joss and Mel’s wedding has become the event of the decade. Walsh and Tammy eloped to Vegas, so this is Mama D.’s only chance to marry off one of her girls, and she has Joss’s substantial bank account at her disposal to pay for it all. She’s gone a little nuts.
“Speaking of the wedding—any new instructions for us groomsmen?”
“Oh, dude, you have no idea. I’ve saved you from some really disastrous clothing choices. Mike’s going to be so happy he’s in charge of music instead of standing up with me.”
“So, I’m wondering…” I pause, watching a palm tree bend in the breeze as we drive by. “Have you thought any more about what Dave told us? I know we’re going to get back together to talk it out in a couple of weeks, but I have some pretty clear feelings already.”
I hear things rustling around Joss, and I picture him getting comfortable before he continues.
“All right, here it is. After the split, I decided it was all bad—the big rock band thing, the arenas, the world tours. The solo shows I’ve been doing are a really nice break and a totally different experience. Do you remember those small shows we used to do at places like the Paramount?”
“I do, but I think we were all so focused on becoming the next Stones that maybe we didn’t have time to experience that early stuff.”
“I think you’re right,” he says. “But I can tell you that there are some great things that go down at those smaller venues. You can get feedback from the audience that you don’t in the arenas, you know?”
“It’s like the difference between going to a neighborhood bar and a nightclub.”
He laughs. “Good comparison. And I love that neighborhood bar, man. I get something out of it I can’t anywhere else.”
I swallow, not at all liking where this is going. “Okay.” I clear my throat, a thickness filling it. Dammit. “So, you’re not interested in playing with the band anymore, then?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m sorry. I got sidetracked.”
Relief courses through me, sort of like the moment Marsha told me that she could move on from our past. The last few days have been a constant state of up and down for me, and I’m starting to feel like I’m on a ride at Disney World.
“At first I thought all I wanted was the neighborhood bar,” Joss continues. “But being with you guys last week, remembering what things were like before Walsh got so sick, I guess I remembered that, once upon a time, we had it pretty damn good and maybe we shouldn’t be so quick to throw that away.”
I stifle the breath of relief I want to exhale. It’s like I’ve been holding it since last week when we all agreed to leave Portland and think about the options individually.
“I agree. I’m not ready for Lush to be done, man.”
“But,” Joss interjects, “I think the ground rules need to be different this time around. I’m ready to say I’d like to give Lush another chance, but I need that solo time too.”
“Absolutely. Things wouldn’t have gone down the way they did if it had been working right. And we were all to blame. I accept responsibility for my part—which was being as irresponsible as possible. I know Walsh and I left you with all the hard shit. That won’t happen again, Joss. I mean it.”
The line is quiet for a moment before he responds. “I know, brother. I have no doubts about you or about your contributions at all. You need to know that. My only fear at this point is the damn thing taking on a life of its own that we don’t know how to control. I don’t want Lush to run us. We need to run it.”
“Agreed.”
“Have you talked to Mike or Walsh?” he asks.
“No, you were my first call.”
“Okay. You want to handle Mr. Hardass and I’ll talk to my future brother-in-law?” he asks.
“Yeah, I can do that. I’ll check back in with you in a few days?”
“Sounds good.”
“Thanks for talking it out with me,” I say, a grin on my face.
“Thanks for taking the first step, man. You’re a good friend, Colin. And a good person. I’m not sure you always realize that. But we’re lucky to have you.”
A sense of contentment washes over me. I don’t exactly have guilt over Lush, but I also haven’t felt quite right about it for a long time. It helps to have the heart of the band tell me I belong.
“Thanks. I’ll be in touch soon.”
“Good deal. Take care, man.”
We hang up as the limo pulls up to the front doors of the hotel.
“You need any help with your stuff, Mr. Douglas?” the driver asks.
“No, thanks. I got it.”
I climb out of the car, thinking that, as much as I hate to admit it, having A/C in the car is a nice thing. Maybe I should consider getting something a little more upscale than Walsh’s old pickup.
I’ve barely cleared the lobby doors when Sean comes barreling at me. I set my bass on the floor and bend to meet him, picking him up as he hollers, “Colllinnn, you’re back!”
I give him a little toss in the air before lowering him to the floor and retrieving my bass. “What’s going on, buddy?” I ruffle his hair, which is sticking up and stiff from the salt water. “Did you learn how to surf?”
Nick walks up with Lyndsey and Marsha and I high-five him before focusing my attention to the most beautiful woman I know.
I can’t help but touch her arm, needing to ground myself through some sort of contact. Her skin is warm, and she’s glowing like she brought a piece of the sun inside with her.
“Hey there,” I say, unable to stop smiling.
She has that freaking sexy purple-and-white wraparound thing on over her bikini again, and all I can think about is the work of art that’s hidden underneath. Marsha in a plum bikini that barely covers her ample chest is a thing to behold. A thing I’d love to behold again as soon as possible.
“Hi,” she says back, grinning.
“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to figure out what’s different since I saw her earlier.
“The girls spent most of the afternoon with bottles of hard lemonade,” Nick tells me, smirking as he tucks Lyndsey under his arm and she giggles.
I chuckle. “Ah,” I say. “Had fun did you, babe?”
Marsha pets Sean’s head. “Well, as much as a responsible mother of a six-year-old can have.”
“No way,” I tell her sternly. “There’s always more fun to be had. That’s what babysitters are for.”
She rolls her eyes as Nick gestures for us to move out of the flow of foot traffic coming through the lobby.
We start to walk to the elevators, and I hand Nick my bass before I grab Sean and throw him up on my shoulders. He bounces up and down and yanks on my hair like the reins on a horse.
“But seriously.” I touch Marsha’s shoulder so she’ll look at me. “I was hoping that you might be okay leaving Sean with Lyndsey and Nick so we could go out to dinner.”
She stops at the elevator doors and looks uncertainly at Nick and Lyndsey. “You’d really want to do that? You’ve already given up most of your day. Surely you have other stuff to do.”
“We’d love to,” Lyndsey reassures her. “If you want to do it, go upstairs and get ready. We’ll head home to change out of our swimsuits and be back in an hour. How does that sound?”
Marsha looks up at Sean who is nodding enthusiastically.
<
br /> “Nick already told me about it. He said he has a really cool surfing video he’ll bring for me to watch. It’ll be fun, Mom.”
Marsha bites on her lower lip, and I’m holding my breath again.
“Okay. If you’re sure it won’t be an inconvenience.” She smiles, the excitement growing on her face.
I stifle my urge to hiss out, “Yessss!” and pump my fist like a high school kid.
“Do you like dogs, Sean?” Lyndsey asks as the elevator dings and the doors slide open.
“If it’s a nice dog,” Sean says.
I lift him off my shoulders and plop him down in front of the elevator.
“He’s the nicest dog ever,” Nick tells him. “We’ll bring him back. His name is Jack and he’s a goldendoodle. Wait till you meet him. He’ll be so excited to play with you.”
“Cool.” Sean beams at Nick.
I thank Nick and Lyndsey, grab my bass back, and hustle my two charges into the elevator. I could get used to thinking of Marsha and Sean as mine. My responsibility. The thought makes my chest tighten, and as I watch the only woman I’ve ever loved laughing with her son, I know that this is the happiest moment in my life. I’m going to make sure it lasts.
I END up waiting in the lobby for Marsha. I want it to feel more like a real date. My first date with her was over ten years ago, and we went to Frank’s Burgers after a football game. I only had enough money to do dinner or a movie, so I picked eating, but once I took a look at her in tight jeans and a little Abercrombie T-shirt, I wished I’d picked the dark theater with the comfy chairs instead. I never knew eating a burger could make a poor seventeen-year-old boy so horny.
Tonight I want to have that feeling back. That anticipation when you’re waiting to see the girl walk into the room for your first date. I want this to be a new first for Marsha and me, so after I get dressed, I tell her that I’m going downstairs to meet Nick and Lyndsey. Once they arrive, I send them up to tell Marsha to come down when she’s ready.
I’m alone, my hands in the pockets of my khakis, watching the waves spill onto the sand outside, when I sense her like a ripple that travels up my spine and lodges behind my ribs.
I turn, and she’s walking toward me across the slick marble floor of the lobby. Her hair is pinned up, tiny tendrils floating around her neck. She’s wearing a halter top that’s sapphire blue, and a skirt with a big blue-black-and-white pattern. The skirt floats around her thighs, long enough to be something a mom would wear but short enough that it makes every man in a room crave a view of what it’s hiding.
When she gets to me and I can’t stop myself from tucking a delicate piece of hair behind her ear.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” I tell her, my voice needy even to my own ears.
She gives me a soft smile and smooths down the placket on my short-sleeved button-up. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
I hold her hand in mine and lead her to the main doors. Looking down at her shoes I ask, “Can you walk a little ways in those things?”
“I think so,” she answers. “It’s the first time I’ve worn them.” Then she laughs. “At home I only own tennis shoes. I’m on my feet all day and beer gets spilled on everything I own.”
She shrugs as if it’s not important, but I think about Mel and Tammy, the women I know best other than my mother, and the fancy high heels and elaborate boots and little colored sandals and shit they wear. They never have to worry about something being spilled on their shoes. They never have to wear shoes simply because that’s the only pair they can stand on comfortably for ten hours a night. Marsha deserves a life where she can choose some shoes because she thinks they’re pretty, not because they have to stand up to the rigors of the Bronco.
“We’ll walk straight down the beach,” I tell her. “You can take them off if you need.”
She smiles, seeming content to hold my hand and follow me to the sand. The feel of her small hand in mine is so familiar that I’m pulled to the past with the force of a storm. Walking through the hallways of school holding her hand, walking into restaurants holding her hand. Holding her hands above her head as I pumped into her in a little twin bed while her mother worked the night shift. I swallow the dryness that settles in my throat and look down as she stops to remove her shoes.
“Here.” My voice is hoarse. “Let me carry those for you.”
She hands over the blue shoes with their confusing straps and skinny heels. I hold them loosely in my free hand and pull her closer to my side.
“Thank you for coming out with me,” I say.
“Thank you for asking me.” She breathes the damp air and looks out at the water, where the sun is disappearing below the horizon. “Thank you for all of this. The trip, the surf lessons for Sean. The beautiful hotel.”
“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” I stop and lean down to her, rubbing my nose along her cheek.
She sighs and my heart races.
“I want to do things for you—”
“You always did,” she interrupts.
“And you’d never let me.”
She sighs again, but this time, it’s more out of frustration. “It’s hard for me, Colin. You know that. And it’s been ten long years of fending for myself and Sean. I know I haven’t done all that well, but it’s hard to think about letting someone else do it, because if I get used to that—used to this”—she gestures around us—“it’ll kill me when I have to go back to doing it for myself.”
I hold both of her hands in mine and face her, bending slightly to catch her gaze. “First of all, you’ve done great. You have an amazing kid, babe. He’s smart and kind and loving. I know that didn’t come from his old man. That’s all you. Everything you’ve done was for him, and you should be proud of that.”
She clears her throat., then my brave girl stiffens her spine and looks me in the eye. “Don’t you wish I’d done all that for your child? Don’t you resent that I’d do it for the kid of a man I didn’t even love, but not for yours?”
My stomach bottoms out and my hands shake, but my voice is strong and steady when I answer her. I want to make sure she understands me. “No. I don’t think that. Not ever. You get that? You weren’t able to do those things then, and you knew it. It’s okay. I’ll always wish you’d let me help make the decision and that I’d been more mature and patient with you so you weren’t alone, but I’ll never blame you for what happened. Never again.”
She nods, her expression thoughtful. “I should have let you in. I know that. It’s so hard for me, Colin, but I know I need to do it. I need to let a lot more people in. It’s so scary.”
I press a kiss to her forehead and linger, letting the warmth of her skin heat me. When I pull away, her hands squeeze mine tighter.
“Why don’t you start small? Date me. Let me take you to dinners and buy you things that make you happy like you have for this trip. Do you think you could do that?” I ask.
Her eyes focus on mine and they sparkle in the dwindling light reflecting off the water and the sand. “I can try,” she answers. “Can you be patient with me while I do?”
“I’ve got all the time in the world, babe. As long as I know it’s what you want, I’ve got all the time you need.”
Chapter Fourteen
Marsha
I MELT into him as he lowers his head and presses his lips to mine. We start soft, slow, relearning each other. The tip of his tongue dances along my bottom lip, and I respond by nipping lightly at his. A quiet moan releases from his throat, and my heart races, stumbling to catch up to all the sensations that are rushing through me like the waves are rushing onto the beach.
Things heat up and we’re both breathing heavily, devouring one another with our lips and tongues and teeth, our hands stroking and caressing over our clothes.
“God, I swear,” he whispers as he licks up the side of my neck. “It’s never been like this with anyone else. Not in all these years.”
“I know,” I pant, pressing my hands fl
at against his chest.
My mind is racing with the adrenaline that’s pumping in my veins. I haven’t had sex in a very long time, and I haven’t had sex with someone I love since I was eighteen. It’s all overwhelming—the feelings, the needs, the ache that’s tightening everything inside me.
“We have to stop,” I rasp out.
“I know,” he answers as he continues to work his way down my neck with his teeth and tongue, his knuckles brushing over my nipples, sending electricity sizzling through my torso. I’m afraid that if he touches me anywhere else I’m going to have an orgasm right here on the beach, fully clothed, standing up. Is that even possible?
“Colin.” I sound like a porn star—my voice is so rough and needy.
His head reluctantly leaves my neck, his hands settling on my hips as he blows out a deep breath. He’s trying to slow things down, but he’s also pulled my hips against his and I can feel how hard he is through all of our clothes.
“Holy shit,” he finally says, giving me a chaste kiss on the temple. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to go slow with you. I’ll work on that. I swear.”
“It’s, um, it’s okay. And not your fault entirely. I’m struggling too.”
“Not helping,” he laughs. “But I promised to feed you, didn’t I?”
I nod, and he grasps my hand again and walks along the beach. I follow, my entire body on fire from a kiss that ended much too late and much too soon at the same time.
OUR DINNER is gorgeous, and neither one of us finishes. We’re distracted and horny, and even the beautiful pasta primavera with fresh shrimp that Colin buys me can’t take my mind off the way his lips and skin felt against mine on that beach.
When he orders a flourless chocolate torte, I have to admit I’m able to forget his kisses for a few minutes, but as soon as that last incredible bite of bittersweet chocolate melts away, I’m right back where I started.
“Can I ask you something?” he queries as we walk along the beach back toward our hotel.
A Lush Reunion Page 13
