His Melody

by Nicole Green

  She slid her mouth over the hot shaft of skin, sucking on it rhythmically. He grabbed the back of her head with one hand and braced himself against the wall with the other.

  “Where did you learn to do that?” he whispered before encouraging her to do more of it. Pushing the head of his penis against the back of her throat, she moaned, knowing the vibrations would drive him crazy. She grabbed his butt with one hand and used the other to cradle and stroke the fleshy, vulnerable skin under his penis until he surrendered to the strokes of her tongue and hand with a strangled cry and a shudder.

  She stood and tucked him back in before zipping up his pants.

  “Now, what did you want to talk about?” he asked, his eyes unfocused; he looked and sounded dazed.

  Figuring it would be hard to catch him in a better mood, she said, “There’s a showcase in Atlanta next week.” She kissed him, but he didn’t kiss back.

  “And you want me to go,” he said.

  “I want us to talk about it,” she said.

  He adjusted his pants and buckled his belt. Grabbing the folder off his desk once again, he said, “You ready to go?”

  She followed him from the office. “If you would just let me tell you about it, you’d see that this could be such a huge opportunity for you.”

  “For you, you mean,” Austin said. He didn’t say anything else until they were back in the truck. Then he turned to her with a mixture of hurt and anger in his eyes. “That’s the only reason you want me to come back with you, isn’t it? I’m a commodity to you.” He leaned in close enough to kiss, but he clearly didn’t have kissing on his mind. The sallow glow from a nearby streetlight cut across his chiseled jaw line. “You’re just like Bianca.”

  “No, Austin. That’s not the only reason. Over these past few weeks, I’ve come to care about you so much.” She put a hand on the side of his face. He pulled away from her and started up the truck.

  “If that were true, you’d understand why I don’t want to go to that showcase or have anything to do with your record company or anyone else’s.”

  “I don’t have a record company,” she said, thinking of how nice it would be if she did—how different everything would be. She wouldn’t run her company anything like New Face was being run because New Face was being run right into the ground.

  “Well, the one you represent, sold out to, however you want to put it,” he said.

  “Okay, Austin, okay,” she snapped. “Fine.” She had no idea what she was going to tell Saeed. Worse than that, she had jeopardized what might be her last few days ever with Austin.

  She looked across the seat at Austin. Everything she wanted was so close that she could reach out and touch it. Instead, she was going to have to watch it all slip through her fingers.

  Chapter Thirty

  Sunday, after church, Melody went with Leigh Anne to run errands in town. When they got out of Leigh Anne’s truck at the grocery store, Melody saw Blanche across the street, outside of the bank, weeping loudly and dramatically. A much younger man—the tall, dark, and handsome type—stood next to her gesturing in a way that indicated he was trying to reason with her about something.

  Leigh Anne followed her gaze and said, “Well. I wonder what it is this time.”

  “Do you know that man who’s with her?” Melody asked.

  “That’s her grandson, Remy.” Leigh Anne put a hand on her hip and rocked back on her heels. “Every so often, he comes into town from Louisiana to check on her.”

  “I’m going over there for a minute,” Melody said. “I’ll meet you inside.”

  “You don’t want to get involved in all that.”

  “I’ll just be a second.”

  Leigh Anne gave her a wary look.

  “I won’t be long,” Melody said. “Promise.”

  “Okay,” Leigh Anne said with a labored sigh. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Leigh Anne put extra emphasis on the last couple of words.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  Leigh Anne threw her a look.

  “Almost,” Melody said.

  Leigh Anne headed for Zip’s, and Melody went across the street to Blanche and Remy.

  “Blanche, what’s wrong?” Melody asked.

  “Oh, ma chère. It’s terrible. This old brute wants to take me away from here.” She smacked at the young man’s hand as he attempted to take her arm.

  “I’m not an old brute,” the man said in a Cajun accent that was almost as thick as Blanche’s. “I’m Remy, her grandson,” Remy said, sticking out a hand for Melody to shake. He smiled, exposing dazzlingly white teeth.

  Melody took his hand and returned the smile. “Melody.”

  “It’s not that I mind the going, no not that at all. It’s where he’s taking me. Ask him where he taking me, chère,” Blanche said. She grabbed fretfully at the light blue scarf she wore over her gray hair. “Go on, ask him.”

  “I’m taking her back to Louisiana,” Remy supplied without further prompting. He leaned close in a conspirator-like way and said, “Grand-maman is getting a little too old for all this nonsense, and I think she’s gettin’ a little senile, too.”

  “He gonna put me in one of them old nursing homes, chère. A home! Don’t nobody last long in one of them things.” She sniffed indignantly before laying a cold look on her grandson. “To think.” She started muttering under her breath.

  “You see…” Remy let his voice trail off and stared helplessly in his grandmother’s direction.

  “You don’t care nothing at all about me, you don’t,” Blanche said. She stared up at him as his height required her to. She balled her small hands into fists at her sides.

  “I’m taking you home with me because I do care,” Remy said in a tight voice; his strained patience was evident in his tone. “It’s not a nursing home, grand-maman. You know that. It’s an assisted living facility close to where Marie and I live.”

  “Marie is his wife,” Blanche said. “She’s a nice person. She don’t go around terrorizing her elders.” She shook her head at Remy. “Should be ashamed of yourself is what you ought to be.

  “Grand-maman, I can’t leave you here,” Remy said, running a hand over his face and letting it rest at his mouth. He looked as if he were at the end of his rope.

  “Aw, get on out of here. Wait for me in the car, and I’ll be over in a minute.” She pointed to a burgundy sedan. “I gotta say goodbye to my friend here first.” She nodded at Melody.

  Remy didn’t look so sure.

  Blanche gave him a little tap on the arm. “Well go on. It ain’t like I can run. You catch me before I get out the parking lot good. You just grabbed all my little money out the bank. Where would I go if I could run?”

  “Grand-maman—”

  “I know, I know. Go on now. You leave me alone for a minute, and I’ll go with you after that and won’t even put up a fight.”

  Throwing his hands up in resignation, Remy said, “Okay.” He turned to Melody. “It was nice meeting you, even if briefly and under these…” He glanced at his grandmother. “Circumstances.”

  Melody smiled. “Nice to meet you, too, Remy.”

  Remy walked to the car, and Blanche put a hand on Melody’s arm.

  “The reason I say I don’t mind the going even if that old brute is taking me away.” Blanche squeezed Melody’s arm. “The reason I say that is my work here is done.”

  “Oh?” Melody glanced over at Remy. He sat in the car, shaking his head and gesturing wildly while talking into his cell phone.

  “You brought them brothers back together.” Blanche nodded. “I was here for you, and you were here for them,” she said. “You still are.”

  Melody looked down at Blanche, and the older woman winked at her.

  “You know it’s true.” Blanche nodded slowly. “There’s only one thing left to do. You know what that is, too.”

  “I’m not sure I do,” Melody said.

  “Don’t you give up on dat boy. He still needs you. In here.�
� Blanche put a small, papery hand over her heart. “You know that well as I do.”

  Melody was going to miss this woman. Odd but unforgettable. “Okay, Blanche.”

  “Oh, of course you’ll never forget old Blanche. Nobody ever do.”

  Melody gave her head a little shake. Surely the old woman couldn’t read minds?

  “Now I got to get out of here now before that old brute grandson of mine has a fit.”

  “I’m glad I got a chance to meet you,” Melody said.

  “Of course you did. That’s what I was doing here the whole time, I keep trying to tell you. Waiting on you to show up,” Blanche said. She hobbled forward a little.

  “Let me help you to the car.” Melody offered her arm.

  “Naw, chère, I’m gonna be just fine. I ain’t that bad off yet.” She took a few more steps forward before turning to face Melody once again and saying, “You two have a safe trip back now.”

  “Two?” Melody echoed, slightly confused. Maybe Blanche really was becoming senile.

  Blanche’s face turned grave. “If you don’t take that boy away from here with you, I fear the future for both of you. I see a terrible storm headed your way.” She shook a warning finger. “Some kind of terrible.”

  Melody nodded. What could she say to that?

  “Bye now. Remember what I said to you. All of it.”

  “Bye. I will,” Melody said. Not like that would get it to make any more sense to her. She watched as Blanche hobbled toward her grandson’s car. Remy got out of the car and opened the passenger side door. He tried to help his grandmother into the car, but she slapped his hand away and settled into it at her own pace.

  Once Melody found Leigh Anne in Zip’s, Leigh Anne asked what had taken so long.

  “Just saying goodbye,” Melody said with a shrug.

  “Oh, is she going somewhere?” Leigh Anne asked as she studied the label on the back of a can of refried beans.

  “Her grandson is taking her back to Louisiana with him.”

  “It’s about time.” Leigh Anne tossed the can of beans into her basket.

  “He thinks she’s senile.”

  Leigh Anna frowned a little. “He’s probably right. That poor dear.”

  Melody followed Leigh Anne down the aisle, trying to decide if she agreed with that assessment of Blanche’s mental state or not. Blanche might have been a little strange, but everything she’d said had made a great deal of sense, and she’d ended up being right about a lot of things in the end. What if Blanche continued to be right? She’d mentioned something about a storm headed Melody’s way.

  She didn’t need another storm in her life..

  She felt a small shiver; Blanche’s last words stuck in her mind. Those and thoughts of Austin.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Monday night, Melody, the Holts, Nina, and Regan went to a small diner for her farewell dinner. It was no Rose’s Diner, and it didn’t quite compare to the meals Leigh Anne cooked either, but the food was still very good. Especially the chicken fried pork chop, which Nina had insisted she try. Austin shared a piece of his steak with her, and it was so tender, it melted in her mouth.

  She and Austin had come to an unspoken and fragile truce. The number one rule of it was that she wasn’t allowed to mention one word about music or record labels. The fact that she was running out of time made things worse. She dreaded the phone call she had to make to Saeed the next day. She’d promised to call him on Tuesday, and she knew better than to break that promise. That and her last conversation with Blanche kept nagging at her.

  “I want to take you somewhere tonight, after dinner,” Austin whispered from where he sat next to her.

  She grinned and whispered back, “You do, huh?”

  “I have a going-away present for you.” His green eyes locked on hers in a blazing gaze.

  “Okay.” She managed to keep the smile on her face, but the words “going-away” made her stomach sink. He really wasn’t coming with her. “You sure my car is fixed? You really don’t need more time to work on it?”

  “What, you doubting my automotive skills?” Austin asked, eyebrows raised in a playful fashion.

  “No. Just wishful thinking.”

  He reached over, grabbed her hand, and gave it a squeeze.

  From across the table, Regan said, “Melody, I remember you saying something about wanting to learn how to ride when you first got here. I know you don’t have much time left, but how about you come over tomorrow morning and I’ll give a crash course? Horse riding 101.”

  Melody nodded. “I’d like that. Thanks, Regan.” She hoped no actual crashing would be involved. But she was active. She weight trained. How hard could it be?

  “I’ll drop you at Regan’s place on my way into the shop tomorrow morning,” Austin said.

  “Okay,” Melody said. So she was finally going to get to learn how to ride a horse. Everything felt so final all of a sudden. She put her hand on Austin’s thigh as if keeping physical contact with him could keep her from losing him in just a few short days. She’d never fallen for someone so quickly. The thought of being torn away from him was nearly unbearable. Austin slipped his hand beneath the table and squeezed hers.

  She knew falling for one of the label’s artists was forbidden, but none of it really mattered. She was almost certain she’d never convince him to come to Atlanta. She was leaving, and he was staying. Nothing going on in her melting heart mattered one bit.

  Across the table, Regan started talking about one of her tractors and something that was wrong with it. She gestured across the table with her fork and said, “Hey Austin, you know anything about tractor motors?”

  “Little bit,” Austin said.

  “You think if you came by and took a look at this one, you could do something with it?”

  “Might could,” Austin said.

  “Thanks,” Regan said.

  Melody grinned.

  He grabbed her side and then let his hand rest on her hip. “What?”

  “I’m going to miss the way you talk,” she said, a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. “That’s all.”

  “You better miss more than that about me.” He pulled her chair closer to his.

  “Of course I will,” she said, squeezing his knee. Her smile faded.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  After dinner, Austin drove Melody to an inn on the edge of town. He drove to the back of the property where a row of small cottages stood and parked in front of one of them. The red door had a gold number three on it. When he killed the headlights, the walkway in front of the bungalow remained illuminated by hanging lanterns that’d been placed on either side of it.

  “What is this?” she asked.

  “You’ll have to come inside and see.” He got out of the truck, walked around to her side, and opened the door. She stepped out, standing next to him in the small parking lot facing the cottages. The distant, quickly fading rays of the sun gave everything a dusky golden glow. He slipped a big, strong hand around her waist and guided her up the walkway and over to the red door. He took a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and shoved it open.

  “Austin,” she murmured.

  He left her to admire the room while he struck matches and lit the candles that had been strategically placed around it. She noted an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it. A silver bowl full of chocolate covered strawberries sat next to it. She wandered from the living room to the bedroom of the suite. The dark silk duvet was covered in rose petals. The room smelled like vanilla and coconut. An open bottle of massage oil sat on the nightstand. She picked it up and read the label. “Coconut,” she said to herself and smiled. The vanilla scent seemed to be coming from the candles.

  She went back to the living room where Austin sat, shirtless, on the arm of the loveseat.

  “I don’t even have an overnight bag here,” she murmured as she drank in the sight of his pecks and perfectly sculpted abs.

  “Sure you do.” He pointed
to a corner. A small, black carry-on suitcase rested there. It looked brand new. “Everything you need should be in there.”

  “But how’d you pack that without me noticing anything missing?” She should have noticed. She’d been packing for her trip back to Atlanta—albeit slowly and reluctantly—earlier that day.

  He chuckled. “I went to the store.” He stood and stretched; a delicious ripple moved through the muscles of his shoulders and arms. “I’m nothing if not thorough.”

  “I see,” she said. She bit her bottom lip as he started toward her.

  “After tonight, there never will be a way you’ll be able to dream of such a thing as.” He ran his hands up her arms. “Doubting.” He brushed her neck with his lips. “My.” One hand dipped to the small of her back while the other caressed the nape of her neck. “Thoroughness.” He mumbled the last word against her neck before giving it a moist kiss. He trailed his tongue from her neck to the corner of her lips. She hungrily pushed her lips against his, melting into the kiss that she craved—the touches that were always on her mind.

  “I’ve wanted this all day,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “I’ve wanted this since the moment I first saw you,” he said. Kissing her again, he pulled her onto his hips without ever separating their mouths. She wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her arms around him, bracing her hands against his strong, muscular back. She ground her hips against his as their kiss deepened. This won a small groan from him.

  He carried her to the bedroom with her legs still wrapped around him and their lips still locked together. He tangled his hands in her hair. She needed that—needed him.

  “Slow down,” he whispered between kisses. He set her down and she started to protest. “Sh.” He laid a finger against her lips. Backing away a few steps, he adjusted the crotch of his pants and licked his lips before running a hand over the short bristles of his blond hair. She moved closer and rubbed her hands over the back of his head.