by Adele Hart
The way she said copulation made him hard. “Okay, I’ll knock it off and promise to never do it again if you don’t ever call me Benji.”
“Deal.” She held out her hand to shake on it.
When he touched her fingers a bolt of desire shot straight through him. It was a searing heat that went straight to his cock.
“Seriously, you playing is like foreplay to a guy like me. So, do you really play? I mean play-play?”
“Yeah.” Her bright eyes dimmed. “But it’s time to grow up.”
“Speaking of time, there’s good news. Given the time difference between the east coast and here, you’ve gained three hours of time to play music with me.”
She flashed a warm, rich smile that intrigued him. He wanted to know how he’d earned it. Was it him or the mention of music? All he knew was that he wanted to know her better.
“I might have to have a lot more beer.” She lifted her half-empty bottle.
Kris pointed to a bucket filled with beers and ice. “Got you covered.”
She laughed hard. It was lovely to see real laughing, not the stuff people put on for his benefit.
“I’ll take a quick look.” She glanced longingly at his guitars. “I’d love to see what you have to offer.”
Was she teasing him? God, he hoped so.
“You wanna see my babies?”
She flashed another smile. It made him think of the tune Secret Smile. He hummed the song and she joined in.
“I had to break out the song because you smile a lot. Like when you’re about to see guitars.”
“You just met me, you’ve fed me, and now I am about to –“
He finished for her. “Touch my instrument?” He pulled his lower lip between his teeth.
She instantly flushed. Her eyes fluttered closed until her lashes lay against her cheeks. When they lifted the sparkle was back. “I was going to say we’re about to sing together.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to be good, but you seem to bring out the wicked in me.”
“I bet a lot of girls bring out your wicked side.”
He chuckled. “You’d be surprised at how few do.” He lifted from the picnic table. “Are you ready?” He pointed to the garage.
“Yes. I’ll be quick. I have some papers to fill out for cubicle living.” She rolled her eyes and stood.
“Oof,” Kris made a face and grabbed two more beers. “You’ll need another one.”
‘You’re very perceptive.” She took a bottle from his hand and twisted off the cap. Her face fell again and Rainy sighed. “What have I done?”
“Come with me and I’ll help you forget about your cubicle,” he said, standing.
Rainy raised one eyebrow. “I bet you would, but I should really go. Thank you for dinner. It was delicious,” she said, pointing to her empty plate. “The food really hit the spot.”
He wanted to tell her that his favorite thing in the world was “hitting the spot” but he didn’t want to scare her away.
“Home grown, all of it. I’ve got a patch of land outside of town. I grow veggies.”
“Really?”
“Just a normal guy.”
“I don’t know anyone who grows veggies.”
“Now you do.”
Rainy followed him into the garage and studied his Wicks guitars, the ones that were made especially for him. As she ran her fingers along one, Kris could sense something shift in her. She looked suddenly tired.
“You look like you ran out of gas,” he said sympathetically.
“Yeah, I think I just hit the wall.” She tried to hide her exhaustion with a faint smile.
It reminded him of a pale rainbow. “Maybe another time.” She turned and walked back to the picnic table. “Nice meeting you, neighbor. Thank you for the welcome dinner.” She picked up her plate and her fork.
“You are welcomed. Glad to have you here, Rainy.”
As Kris followed her to the gate, something inside tugged at him like he wanted to spend more time with her.
“Come back when you’re rested.” He gripped both sides of the fence and leaned forward. He was almost close enough to kiss her. “We’re probably going to jam tomorrow.”
“Do you keep the garage doors open? What about the acoustics?” She leaned in, closing the distance between them.
“This is set up for casual play. I have a studio on the second floor. I’ll knock on your door, and you can come and hang out if you want.”
“I’ll give you my cell,” she offered quickly.
He waived it off. “No, that’s okay. I’ll just knock. We do this all the time so there’s no doubt we’ll connect at some point.”
Three
Rainy
As soon as Rainy was in the house, she didn’t bother going to her bedroom. She crashed on the first sleep-worthy surface. Grand Canyon had hired someone not only to move her in completely, but also to arrange her things so they looked their best. She hardly recognized her own stuff.
She curled up on the couch. It was lovely to feel so exhausted and to have the opportunity to sleep at the same time. She eyed the stack of documents she had to fill out for work, but she put off the paperwork and sank into a deep sleep.
She woke foggy-headed and confused. For a moment, she thought it was morning, but when she looked at her cell phone, she saw it was just before midnight. She sat up on the couch wishing she could go back to sleep, but she had work to do. She flipped on some lights and headed upstairs to her bathroom and bedroom.
As she climbed the stairs, she heard the womp of an electric guitar as it was being tuned. Kris was in the garage. She knew it. He was firing up a guitar. The windows of the rooms on the second floor of Rainy’s house were open, something she wasn’t aware of before.
She reached to close one window and saw right into Kris’s garage. There were people milling around with instruments and beers in their hands. A guy was at the drums. Kris just happened to lift his head and looked straight into her eyes.
She closed the window quickly, hoping he didn’t think she was spying on him.
That did little to muffle the music next door, which was loud, but it was a Saturday night and she lived next door to a rock star. A sense of longing took over as she listened to them warm up. As soon as Kris strummed and sang, she found herself grinning. She lived next door to a rock star and that meant free concerts all the time. Besides, he was singing her song.
“It’s a rainy night in Georgia,” he warbled. “Rainy night in—”
That was an old tune, not even a rock tune, but one she was familiar with because it had the word rainy in it. Her mom and dad sang it to her. She went back to the window to lift it so she could watch them and maybe say something, but a woman passed through the garage. She was attractive and Kris gave her a one-armed hug.
Rainy drew the shade. She had gotten away from herself. She needed to focus on getting ready for work even though she had one more day off until she actually had to start. She didn’t need to get her head filled with the fact that she lived next door to one of her favorite musicians ever, a person she was already fantasizing about.
She felt a little crushed that she thought he was flirting with her and yet there was a woman he was clearly involved with right there. Why wouldn’t there be? He was Benjamin Brock. He wasn’t married. He was sexy and he was the lead man of a hot rock band. Yes, he had flirted with her, but now he had a blond while he practiced. He probably was in no short supply of women.
Rainy knew better than all that. She lived the life for years. Guys came on to her because she was on a stage. Women came on to her band members all the time. Maybe her band wasn’t on his level, but she’d been there, done that.
Rainy eyed the small walk-in closet of the master bedroom. All her clothes were arranged by category. Even her pajamas were hung. She lifted a hanger with a cotton tank and shorts and laid them out. She stripped down all her clothes until she stood naked in the closet.
She stepped into the pajama shorts a
nd drew the tank over her head when a knock sounded at the door. It was Murphy’s Law. Just as she dressed for bed, Kris came to call.
She dashed downstairs and opened the door, hiding behind it since she didn’t have a robe on.
He grinned. Framed by the doorway, he looked really tall, and she was partial to tall. Leaning lopsided around the door made him looked even taller.
“What happened?” he laughed. “Did the airline lose your body? You look like a floating head.”
“I was kind of getting ready for bed.” She didn’t have to tell him that, but she mentioned bed to tantalize him.
“You look so fresh, I thought maybe you just woke up.”
“I did,” she confessed. “But I don’t want to get my sleep all screwed up.”
“So, can you come out and play?” His beautiful blue eyes emphasized the question. “We’re about to jam… unless it will bother you, and in that case, we’ll move it to the studio. It’s just such a nice night. Too perfect to waste.”
“I’ll enjoy it from here.” She hated to turn him down, but she had paperwork to fill out. “I’ll listen and read.”
He nodded, studying her. “Open invite.”
In another place and time, Rainy would take him up on the offer in a heartbeat. But that wasn’t her anymore, or at least who her parents expected her to be. She closed the door and returned to the couch, this time with a folder of forms she printed out to review and sign.
She looked at the same form about ten times trying to focus and fought the urge to put it off until tomorrow. Then again, she did have the whole day off. Starting paperwork at nearly midnight might not be the most efficient thing to do. She listened to the thrum of the bass and the rhythm of the drums. She couldn’t ignore it any longer. That was where she wanted to be.
Rainy ran upstairs to get dressed. She didn’t want to wear her super-hot jeans because that would make her seem like she was trying too hard. And yet, there was Kris Brock in the middle of her head with the slightest bit of a thing for him developing in her mind.
He was just a distraction, that was all, she told herself. She’d come all this way to not like a job she didn’t really want.
The amp in Kris’s garage flared with feedback. Rainy hurried over as fast as she could.
Four
Kris
Over the bass, Kris heard his dog Jimmy bark like someone was delivering mail. He set down his guitar to corral him. He saw the top of Rainy’s head through the lattice trimming the gate.
“Don’t open the door! Don’t open the door!” he shouted, but it was too late.
Rainy pushed forward just the slightest bit. Kris lunged and slammed it shut, hopefully not knocking Rainy down. He talked softly to his big mix-breed dog to lead him into the house.
“One second,” he called to Rainy.
Once the dog was safely away, he opened the gate for her.
“Sorry.” He pointed to his dog, who was on hind legs looking through the window. “Big dog—sorry. I wanted to put him away. Come on in.”
Jimmy barked at the window. Kris tapped it to calm him. He wagged his tail and Kris noted the adoration on Rainy’s face.
“You like dogs?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She touched the glass as they passed. “I do. I like other people’s dogs.”
“You should meet him officially sometime because he’ll be out in the yard.”
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“Jimmy Page,”
“Of course,” she said wryly. “That makes sense.”
Kris and Rainy stood just inside the gate on the side of the house. Being on the narrow walkway with her stirred him. Her presence moved him. He didn’t want to go into the garage where all his friends were. He wanted to stay on the walk, surrounded by the lushness of his landscape, under the moon, with only her.
The way the light fell on her was incredibly beautiful. Kris suspected that Rainy had no idea how pretty she was.
“We’re tuned up.” He placed his hand on her lower back. “Come.”
They walked around the house to the open garage where the other musicians waited.
“Rainy is my new neighbor.” He smiled at her, slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t asked her last name. “Rainy what?”
“Rainy McAllister.”
“Nice. It’s got a lyrical quality.”
He pointed to each of his bandmates; they nodded as he said their name.
“Kenyon Danes, Dan Ayres, Jack Meyers and this is Sally Meyers,”
Rainy smiled a particularly big smile that puzzled Kris, but he didn’t question it. He just enjoyed it. He had couches set out and invited her to sit.
“Unless of course you want to play.” He pointed to his collection of guitars. “Guys, Rainy plays.”
They looked to her and waited for her to explain.
“I had a band back in Baltimore,” She thumbed over her shoulder like Baltimore was just around the corner. “They’re still together. I um—” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Her eyes watered and she was blocked by emotion.
“And that was dumb of me,” said Kris.
He handed her a beer, and quickly picked up a guitar. On the outside, he didn’t appear as though he took her emotional snag seriously, but on the inside, his head was filled by it. She was so tender, so affected by the change. He couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t cry if he had to give up music.
“California,” he said, and the band began to play.
It was a new tune they were working on so Rainy wasn’t going to recognize it. She recognized him, so he guessed she was familiar with their music. He kept an eye on her, fixed on her beautiful face.
What he liked about her was her natural, fresh beauty. She didn’t look faddish, and she didn’t try to look strange. She was just herself. It was refreshing. It was definitely a novelty for him in the world of such affectedness. In his world, the competition to impress was cutthroat. She didn’t seem interested in any of that. He made a mental note that before he went to bed he would search the internet for her band to see if her performances were online.
Kris found himself singing the new tune more like a ballad than the alternative tune he’d first envisioned. The cool thing about the musicians he played with was they were so in tune with him, they just went with it.
Rainy stood up and picked up a guitar. Kris noted that she was seasoned enough to know that all the instruments were tuned. She followed along. Kris was entranced. She played along, though she kind of went off on her own in a different space in the garage like she was working something out. He let her do own thing. It was like they were talking to each other through music.
Then she rejoined the band, moving towards him, in between him and the microphone. She harmonized with him. Kris had to keep from gasping—they were amazing together. He was quite a bit taller than she was so he looked over her head to the other band members who clearly liked what they were hearing.
She couldn’t have known the tune since he and his band just wrote it. It was basically unfolding in a new way with her contribution. She improvised with perfection. They were in total sync. It was the ultimate experience as a musician for him to share the moment so perfectly with her.
The tune ended and Kris wanted to lean forward and kiss her on the top of her head, but he exercised restraint. She must have felt him looking at her. She tilted her head back and looked up at him.
“Beautiful,” he said, entranced.
“And we got it on record,” announced his bassist Kenyon.
“Yesssss,” cheered Kris, very pleased. “Let’s make sure Rainy has a copy.”
“Didn’t know I was going to get up and do that,” she said self-consciously. “Just had to play.”
“I’m so glad you did.”
She set the guitar down and sat back on the couch.
“Aw… is that it? Not going to play with us anymore?” Kris stuck out his lower lip in a pout. It wasn't a natural reaction for him but it seemed like it
might work.
“We’ll see,” she said with a faint smile.
“Okay. Feel free to step in whenever you want.”
The band played a couple other tunes and when their fire faded, they took a break. Kris took a spot on the couch next to her. A little electric wave washed through him. He had to take a deep breath. Music was a high, but being near her was even more so.
“I’m going to stop pretending,” he confessed. “I want to hear some of your stuff. You sounded so good.”
She took a deep breath. He didn’t want to push, but he had to know if she’d mind him listening to her recorded stuff.
“Go ahead,” she said giving him permission. “Our band’s name is Fixture. We have a video channel.”
He handed her his phone. “Show me.”
She flipped through his phone to her channel. Rainy selected a song. He took the phone and turned up the volume. He listened. He liked the tune mostly, not a hundred percent, but her voice he loved. He clicked on another choice, and this one he liked a lot. He picked up his guitar and played along to it with no power to his instrument.
“Do you mind if we take it out for a spin?”
“Sure,” she said, shrugging. “I don’t see why not.”
She looked so relaxed on the sofa.
“You relax here,” he said gently, carefully resting his guitar against the armrest.
He reached for an afghan resting on the corner of the couch and covered her legs.
The other band members stilled while they listened to Rainy’s band. Kris replayed it. They listened to it a second time, this time working out the tune on their instruments.
The video had words so Kris projected it onto a section of the garage he used liked a screen. They all followed along like karaoke. Kris sang Rainy’s song, this time with Sally doing the harmony.
Kris kept an eye on Rainy to see how she responded to their rendition. She looked worn out and kind of homesick. He almost didn’t have the heart to keep her there, but singing her song was so intimate, so powerful, like he was being filled with her energy. He closed his eyes, and it was like he and Rainy were the only two people in the room.
