Riley grinned and she watched as he fidgeted with the car stereo, his long, elegant fingers jabbing at the buttons. John Mayer’s “Your Body is a Wonderland” came through the speakers clearly and she started singing along. She liked this song and thought it fitting for the man sitting beside her.
Christina had always found his body a wonderland and her favorite playground. She moved over to Riley, resting her head on his shoulder, running her hand from his shoulder, and down his stomach. Her hand came to rest on his inner thigh, her fingers creeping toward the juncture.
She reached between his legs, cupping him and using her thumb to stroke him. His eyebrows went into his hairline, but he moved forward spreading his legs wider in order to give her better access. She felt him harden as she traced the length of him with her thumb, stroking back and forth with enough pressure to make him squirm.
Christina continued to sing quietly in a low tone in his ear, putting how much she longed for him into the song. He laid his head on hers, but his eyes never left the road. She angled her head so she could kiss him, which was difficult because she had to negotiate the facial hair before she could reach his lips. His hand brushed down the side of her face, holding her under the chin.
Riley kissed her back passionately, using his tongue to tease her before breaking the connection. “Uh-uh, Dina. I’m driving and we’re getting to Lift in one piece. If you start something, I’m going to have to finish it,” he joked. “I need to concentrate and I can’t when you do things like that. We’ve got another hour in the truck and we need to get there before it gets dark.”
Christina stared at the road ahead in confusion. It was empty and they hadn’t seen another car in the whole time they were driving. They had done bad, dirty, crazy things in this truck and she would have liked to repeat the performance, but alas, that was not to be.
She wondered where her reckless bad boy had gone. He’d never worried about danger or consequences. Usually, it was her that tried to add reason to the crazy antics he came up with, even though she went along with them anyway.
Christina folded her arms and feigned annoyance. Glancing at him and then turning away, she huffed. “Fine. If you want your stupid penis to be lonely, so be it.”
Riley chuckled and gave her a quick glance. “I think you mean my awesome penis and my awesome penis is looking forward to getting personal with your iron vagina at Lift.”
As if some unspoken signal had been given, they both started teasing each other about their body parts. Riley struck a low blow by mimicking Christina’s face when she was having an orgasm. When Christina’s pleas for him to stop didn’t work, she responded by imitating Riley talking dirty during sex, but made him sound like Forrest Gump.
He mocked her relentlessly, retorting “stoopid is as stoopid does” over anything she tried to say. It made her laugh so hard tears leaked out the corner of her eyes. She grabbed his beard, tugging on it until he pulled his head away, leaving some hair behind.
She held up the chin hairs, waggling her eyebrows in victory. He shook his head, laughing. “You will pay, missus.”
**********
Riley
“How come you can take three months of the year off, Riley? Who looks after your business interests when you’re away and the band? Who looks after the band?”
Riley tried to keep the amusement off his face. He knew the questions would be coming and he felt more relaxed about answering them, now she wasn’t so angry. A little smile played around the corners of her generous mouth, where every now and then he got a hint of dimples.
Her eyes were sparkling with mischief, and if her body language was any indicator, she’d begun to open up as Shanwick receded further in the distance. He loved her this way: light hearted and elemental, rather than ice-cold and shuttered.
She had a serious, passionate nature that made her an easy target for teasing, but her sense of humor and quick wit balanced it out. No matter how hard she tried to clamp down the quirky side of her personality, it somehow found an outlet. For all intents and purposes, it was as if she wanted to conform, but just unable to do so.
In this, they were similar and where he felt the most strongly connected to her. Both passed as ‘normals’, but on the inside, they identified with the outsiders and the outcasts. He’d known from early on in his life that he didn’t really fit in, until he’d found the Martins and Christina.
She was the only woman he’d ever chased, multiple times, and the only one that had ever left him. She was one of the few people that dared cross him and she’d done so on more than one occasion. Now that he wasn’t so angry with her, he acknowledged he admired that strength of character.
For years, he had thought of her as his own personal addiction, his kryptonite, but it was more than that. Somehow, they were bound together in this life and he would rather be with her, than without. “I have a lot of money, Dina,” he started. “I lucked into money with Mason and then I inherited a lot more.”
The money issue both amused and irritated him. People thought he was some kind of a business genius, but in actuality, a lot of it had been dumb luck and not losing the fortune he’d made. “What’s the point of having money if I don’t get to do the things I want? In the three months I’m away, I draw, I paint, I write-”
“Fix up buildings,” Christina quipped. “Why don’t you get someone else to do that?”
Riley laughed out loud. “I like doing that, Dina, and I do get people to help me. Your father is one of them. It’s part of my creative process. I like to keep my hands busy when I’m thinking.”
There were also other, very specific reasons why he did what he did, but he didn’t want to get into that. Not just yet. Being careful with his words, Riley spoke hesitantly, “I’m the music manager of the band, not the manager.”
“What’s the difference?” Christina frowned.
“I don’t do the day-to-day operations,” Riley explained. “I have overall creative responsibility for the band. I control what goes on the albums, the cover, anything artistic. The band has input into all the decisions, but I have the final say on it.”
It was part of the job he loved, allowing him to express his artistic side. “Strangely,” he shrugged, “I found I’m good at spotting talent, whether it’s a hit song or someone who could be a star. Probably my greatest strength is that I know what works or who works well together. I don’t know how or why. I just do and apart from you,” he said with a grin, “I’m very good at managing people.”
Christina snorted and he laughed at her reaction. “I just don’t want to have to manage people all year round. Part of taking this time off is to focus on the creative part of the job. At the moment, I’m going through the band’s latest recordings and working out what areas need fixing.”
Riley actually found managing people exhausting. Part of the game was soothing diva-like personalities and-or manipulating them into doing what he wanted. At times, he felt part Machiavelli and part mad-conductor.
“Gabby and I are backing for the band,” Christina said quietly. “It saves them from having to get people in. I wasn’t going to, but then I changed my mind.”
Riley tried to keep the surprise off his face, but failed. Christina’s refusal to pursue a singing career had been a major obstacle in their relationship. Her voice had been the first time he’d ever really looked at Christina as anything other than being Johnny’s prissy, pain in the ass, kid sister.
The first time he’d heard her sing and watched her light up from the inside, he experienced something he’d never witnessed before or since. Beauty. She was his representation of beauty and pain, hope and heartache, darkness and light.
Christina could open his heart like no one else on earth and having her turn her back on music was almost as painful as losing her. It still hurt now. Riley tried for humor, but his comments were a bit gruff. “Gabby and Johnny talk you into it?”
“Well, it wasn’t so much as ‘talked me into it’ as tag-teamed me u
ntil I caved,” she laughed. “Even Dad got in on the act, telling me I was ‘bloody ridiculous’. Then, they got Mandy and Bonnie involved.”
Riley quietly chuckled, but cursed his stupidity. Why hadn’t he thought of that? The question was rhetorical and he knew the answer. Pride and it was over-rated.
“I hope you’re not upset about me singing with the band,” Christina asked quickly. Her eyes were full of concern and how wrong she could get things appealed to his twisted sense of humor.
“Why would I be upset you’re singing with the band? I’m glad you’re singing with the band…” Riley let his comments trail off because there was so much he wanted to say and all of it was redundant.
They were driving past Steven’s farm and he pointed it out to Christina. She made enthusiastic noises, but he could see she wasn’t getting the relevance. “Depending on the circumstances,” Riley continued, “like this year, other things take priority in my life. The band moving back to Seattle, the project you’re covering, and Mason’s foundation.”
Riley ignored Christina’s hiss at the mention of Mason’s name and sighed. “The project you’re involved in combines a lot of interests. My family, your family, the band, Mason, the Shanwick community… it’s important. More important than you know.”
He could feel her dark eyes on him, staring intently. “As you know, I have no interest in farming,” he paused as she giggled and agreed with her. The idea of him farming was ridiculous. Whatever was in the Riley gene pool that made them farmers had bypassed him.
“Five years ago, I agreed in principle to a pay out on the family farm, so it could all go to Steven and Heather,” Riley said, glancing at Christina to see if she was tuned in. “Except, Steven and Heather might not be able to have kids. They’ve been trying for years and nothing, which means-”
“The responsibility of the farm falls back to you,” Christina finished for him.
Riley nodded. “Generations of Rileys have farmed that land, Dina. I can’t just turn my back on my family, on that history. Every year, I’ve hoped that Steven and Heather would get good news, but that hasn’t happened. I’ve spent years living all over the place and doing what I wanted. I never had any of the expectations on me that Steven has, until now. He’s the heir and I’m the spare, but I can’t be a farmer. So, this is where the Shanwick project comes in. We’re restructuring the family farm around it.”
“Into an organic produce line?” Christina murmured. “It makes a lot of sense. I guess the produce from the farm becomes more important than just the farm itself.”
Riley raised an eyebrow in admiration. She was quick. “Exactly,” he said. “We’ve been planning this for the last few years, Dina. We have a guaranteed buyer and the business is responsible for the rest of it. Everything is set up, but I need someone to act as me when I’m not there and this is where you come in.”
Shifting in her seat, Christina folded her arms in annoyance. He tried to keep the amusement off his face because he could read the danger signals. The last thing he needed was to get back in the boxing ring, especially if she thought he was laughing at her.
“There’s also Mason’s foundation and Lift,” Riley added, deliberately ignoring her swearing. “There was talk about building a prison at Lift, which would have screwed all our plans. We bought the place to pre-empt that, but we haven’t decided what we’re going to do with it. I have a few ideas, but Mason and I can’t agree on what direction to take.”
Riley knew he was doing ‘a Christina’ and rambling, but he wanted to be as open and honest with her as he could be about the work. “Part of this is about rehabilitating Mason’s image through philanthropy, but we haven’t agreed yet exactly how that is going to take place. People will take Mason’s money, but they just don’t want to do it publicly. My plan is to build Mason a support base through the projects in our hometown and change his reputation that way. I need someone, like you, to establish the Foundation, and be the contact person.”
Christina made a choking sound and he glanced at her to make sure she was okay. “You’re not serious?” She asked in disbelief. “I think that ship has sailed. Unless you want the Foundation to focus on the porn industry.”
Riley laughed, but Christina ignored him. “This might surprise you, Riley, but I’m not exactly a people person. I don’t have that talent. People don’t particularly like me, especially in Shanwick, and I don’t like them. I’ll do the leg-work, but you need to find someone else to be the public face.”
He would never understand people’s desire or need for social approval. He’d never wanted it and viewed it as a form of control. What other people thought of him was none of his business and it had no influence on his actions.
Riley knew that he and Christina were polar opposites in this regard. It did bother her and for the umpteenth time, he tried to reach her, converting her to his point of view. “You worry too much about what people think, Dina,” he sighed. “You want to know something? Most people don’t get each other, especially when you’re a creative person. We all just pretend in some way. So, just be yourself and hold on to the people that do get you.”
The silence stretched between them and he waited for Christina to say something – anything, but she stared straight ahead at the road. Under normal circumstances, she never had any problem getting her feelings off her chest, especially to him. It made her quietness all the more disconcerting.
“What?” Riley urged. “Come on. What’s going on in your head? Talk to me.”
Pulling a face, she shifted in her seat. “You have a friendship with Mason that no one understands, Riley. Well, I never have.”
Riley had to resist the urge of defending Mason to Christina because it was a lost cause. Mason and Christina hated each other. Always had, always would and if he had any other choice, he would have kept them out of each other’s orbits, but he didn’t.
“I just don’t see…” Christina started. “I’m struggling to see the wisdom in trying to rehabilitate the town’s most unpopular person with the help of the town’s second most unpopular person.”
Riley laughed and then realized she wasn’t kidding. “Oh come on,” he started, “that’s not true.”
“It is true,” she said sadly in a tone that made his hands clench on the steering wheel. “I’m one of those people that shouldn’t be put in public view, not here, and not if you want this project to succeed. I should be buried in the back-row, or used as some kind of subliminal message-”
“Dina,” Riley scoffed. “I think you underestimate the power of money and celebrity. Your brother and the band are in on this project as well. It will be good for this town. I don’t know why the opinions of other people bother you so much. On the achievement scale, the ‘weirdos’ outclass the ‘normals’.”
Christina sighed. “I think you over-estimate what can be done. Money doesn’t change people’s attitudes. My family has money and it doesn’t mean anything. Not in Shanwick and not where I’m concerned.”
Chapter Four: Round Turn
Christina: Shanwick, The Past, October 31, 2012
If Christina was a superstitious person, the portents for her enforced sojourn in Shanwick were ominous. She arrived on Halloween and although she pretended it was coincidental, she did take it as a sign that her own personal apocalypse was upon her. Her anxiety was compounded by Riley’s involvement in her misery and no matter how she analyzed it; she still couldn’t understand what on earth he’d been thinking.
She tried to take herself through the five stages of grief, but was stuck in the anger phase. Christina was one degree of separation from becoming a rabid dog, snarling at everyone, chasing cars and biting tires. In combination with her tendency to ruminate on the negative, her anger felt like it had festered into something dark and twisty.
Standing in the living room of her family home was a surreal experience and it took her a moment to get her bearings. The Martins had recently redecorated the house and although she had participate
d in its refurbishment, its unfamiliar appearance compounded her feelings of dislocation. Gone was the familiar 90s décor, superseded by a more sophisticated 21st Century interior.
It was as if the interior decoration symbolized her inner chaos. Everything was familiar and yet, different. As if the past was just underneath the surface and the present plastered over the top with two coats of paint. If she scratched the paint, the lilac color her mother chose would be clearly visible. At this juncture, Christina was unclear if you could ever change the past. Even when she thought she was free, it had reached out a hand and claimed her.
Her father and Tessa welcomed her in, indicating more changes in the Martin household. Tessa’s warm welcome and embrace reminded Christina, however, that change could be positive. Christina’s eyes got watery, but she didn’t want to cry in front of her family.
Pleading exhaustion, Christina headed upstairs to Johnny’s old bedroom and for the next hour and a half she worked on autopilot, unpacking her bags, throwing her gear in drawers and closets. When she was almost done, she heard a knock on the door and opened it to find Johnny standing there.
Johnny smiled his lopsided grin. “Are you okay?” She grimaced and he pulled her into his arms. “I don’t know what’s going on. You can tell me when you’re ready, but sis, there are seasons for planting, seasons for harvesting, and seasons for war. There’s also a season for forgiveness and peace. You just have to decide what season you want to live in.”
“It’s not that simple,” Christina countered. She was beyond furious and tears of frustration filled her eyes. “How could he do this?”
“Love,” Johnny responded. “He loves you. Whatever you’re thinking, you need to hear him out. It’s not what you think it is. He’s always loved you. Always has and always will.”
Ties That Bind Page 6
