Fuck. I had never known she had struggled with substance abuse. Simone couldn’t have known, either. She was Karen’s closest friend. If she had known she would have told me when I called her each week and requested an update on Karen.
“If I hadn’t quit my job,” she admitted, “they would have fired me.”
“I’m sorry.” I hoped she could see the sincerity in my gaze. She knew my history. There wasn’t an ounce of recrimination in my gaze, only empathy. “I think we all lost our footing after the funeral. If I had known you were in trouble, I would have….”
“You rescued me enough times over the years, don’t you think?” Bitterness lacing her tone, she slid her hand out from underneath mine. My eyes narrowed. I didn’t like her pulling away from me.
“I don’t regret a single instance.”
“No?” Her lips pursed as if she had bitten into something sour.
“No,” I confirmed firmly.
“Ok, maybe you don’t. After all, you were certainly good at it. Today’s catch from the ladder was just the latest example.”
“Happy to help you anytime you need it, surfer girl.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes glistened. “I appreciate it. I really do.” Her voice became thick. “I’m grateful for every single thing you did for me. It was just that the alcohol thing was something I had to work out on my own.”
“I can see that.”
“I had a feeling you would understand.”
“I understand about that and a lot of things, more than I think you realize.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She cocked her head to the side. Her long braid slid forward over her shoulder. “I forgot how easy it is to talk to you. It’s been mostly me and Simone lately, but she’s all wrapped up in Linc. I’m happy for her, but it gets a little lonely. I could use a good friend.” That space between her delicate brows creased. I could tell there was more troubling her than she let on. “What we were talking about earlier at the shop,” her gaze drifted away, “about me being a part of your life again, do you think maybe…”
“Done,” I said readily. Her eyes met mine. Navigating our relationship from this point forward, if friendship was all she wanted was going to be hard for me. But I would take whatever I could get with her. That much hadn’t changed.
“Karen!” She jumped backward in her chair and turned her head. I followed the direction of her gaze watching as Tasha waved and navigated around a couple of groups waiting to be seated on her way to our table. The young girl’s wide eyed gaze bounced back and forth between Karen and me. “I didn’t know the two of you were dating.”
“We’re not,” Karen clarified quickly, too quickly in my opinion. “We’re just old friends catching up.” She smoothed a hand over her hair. “Ramon told me Free Wave is performing tonight. Are you singing?”
“Pfft.” Tasha rolled her eyes. “Doubtful Vassel will let me. You know how he hogs the center mic.”
“What lies are you telling about me, Tater Tot?” A guy nearly as dark skinned as I was, Greek if I had to guess, wrapped one arm around Tasha and started flicking her plethora of small ponytails with his free hand. She had colorful rubber bands all over her head. It was a very interesting style. “If anyone hogs the limelight, it’s you.” The dude might have had Tasha on his arm, but his gaze latched onto Karen like a hungry predator eyeing its next kill. “What’s your name, sweet thing?”
“What’s yours, hot stuff?”
“Whatever you want it to be, beautiful.” His large grin carved two deep crevices into each of his cheeks.
Karen laughed. “Do those tired old lines usually work for you?”
“No, but I don’t have to resort to using them very often. Most chicks like what they see, and they like me even better once they get to know me.” He cocked his hip toward her. I rolled my eyes but neither noticed. “I’ve got mad skills, baby. Let me show you. It would be sweet if you’d dance with me before my set. What do you say?”
My gaze cut to her to see what her response would be to his nonsense. She was grinning. It pissed me off. Even before tragedy struck, her smiles were a rare occurrence. Her laughter even more elusive. The last time I had experienced either had been at the skate park in New York. It didn’t sit right with me that this Vassel had been able to coax both from her so readily. I could practically feel flames shooting off the top of my head.
“She says no,” I barked out an answer before she could. “She’s already agreed to dance with me.” I could feel three sets of surprised eyes on me. I ignored them all and grabbed Karen’s hand. She gasped as I tugged her off her chair and dragged her through the crowd away from Vassel. Diving straight into the throng on the dance floor, I turned and spun her toward me when I reached the middle. I grabbed both her hands and placed them around my neck. I placed mine on her hips, glided them lower to her rear and shamelessly palmed her sexy heart shaped ass as I reeled her closer. Her eyes grew large. I doubt she was thinking about the douche anymore. Her perfect body felt fucking amazing pressed against mine. “No one’s putting any moves on you, surfer girl,” I explained, my voice gruff. “Unless they get prior approval from me.”
Chapter Six
* * *
Karen
“Is that so?” I rolled my eyes. “Ok, caveman. Time to put away the club. I don’t need your protection. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a while now.” I laughed, full and throaty evidence of how having his sexy body pressed to mine affected me. His strong features shadowed in the pulsating dance floor lights, he gazed down at me, and I imagined that the darkness in his eyes represented desire for me. “And besides that take your hands off of my ass, Martinez.” I was playing a dangerous game, dancing with him, out of breath, running on a heady dose of adrenaline as if I had just caught the perfect wave. “I need to get back to my friends. There’s something I want to ask Tasha.” Like when and where she had met Ramon and more significantly, just how friendly were they? I tried to free my hands from around his neck, but found that they seemed somehow tangled up in the curls at his nape.
And yes, his hair was as soft as the silky surface of the ocean.
Softer.
“Umm, no. You’re staying right here. That guy is damn annoying. And anyway, I’m not finished with you yet. And I happen to love this song.” His hands stubbornly flexed on the cheeks of my ass. That felt so good, it was all I could do not to send him mixed messages by grinding against him. Then he began to slowly glide his hands higher.
I inhaled sharply as he slipped them beneath the hem of my shirt and touched my skin. He brought my body closer, his fingers splaying possessively low on my back. The pads of his large palms kissed my hips. Tingles of pleasure shimmered along the surface of my skin. The heat from his body and the brush of his hips as they rocked into mine sent ripples of warm pleasure rolling through me. “You dance like you play the guitar,” I managed to breathe.
“How’s that?”
“Like you’re making love,” I replied without thinking, reason abandoned as I succumbed to the dream.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Oh, yeah, I thought, but I wasn’t so far gone that I spoke it aloud. “How well do you know Tasha?” My attempt at redirection came out raspy. My mouth had gone dry and my body surrendered to the seductive circles his thumbs traced on my skin. I wanted to purr with pleasure when one of his circles passed inside the waistband of my shorts.
“I’m not thinking about her,” he replied as I gazed up at him, dazzled by the way the strobes made his ebony curls sparkle as if his black hair was sprinkled with crushed diamonds. “Enough talking.” His tone authoritative, his jaw firm, his eyes shimmered enticingly, portals that portrayed his sensitive soul. My favorite part. A side of him most didn’t see because he rarely allowed anyone that close. “I’m enjoying this.” One hand remained much lower on my back than I should have allowed. He slid the other beneath my braid, bringing my head to his chest and holding it there. His chest hard b
eneath my cheek, I could feel his steady heartbeat beneath my ear. This close I could trace the faded outline of the white wings on his favorite vintage Aerosmith t-shirt. I breathed in, filling my lungs with him. Like the scent of the ocean breeze, he was a balm to my weary restless soul.
While James Bay crooned poignant lyrics about learning to be incomplete, I sighed softly and burrowed closer. I tried not to think about how empty the last three years of my life had been without Ramon in it. I tried not to worry about tomorrow. I tried not to even think about the end of this dance. Though older and presumably wiser, I wanted to pretend with him a little longer. I twined my arms tighter together around his neck. I twirled an errant curl around my finger. I pressed my breasts to his firm pecs, reveling in his warmth and the lean muscles that stretched taut over his strong frame. His swaying movements seduced me. I became the harmony to his melody. For the length of the song, I would allow myself the pretense that his heart beat in perfect tune with mine.
• • •
Ramon
“Uh-um.” The interruption over the sound system brought a frown to my face. I glanced up as Tasha tapped the mic twice with her fingers. I felt Karen stiffen in my arms when she had been so beautifully pliant only a moment before. “If the non-dating old friends on the dance floor could take a break,” Tasha declared with a heavy dose of sarcasm weighting her words, “Free Wave is ready to get started and we’d love to welcome Ramon Martinez to the stage.”
“I’ve got an extra guitar tuned.” Patrick held up a banged-up Gibson SG.
“Turn that frown upside down and get on up here.” Tasha smiled, mischief brightening her often guarded green eyes. “We may not be the Dirt Dogs, but we can rock it, too.” She swept her gaze across the audience. “What do you say, Deck Bar? Think we can talk him into it?”
While the crowd that filled the popular club clapped and whistled enthusiastically, Karen slipped away from me. She glanced around as if she had awoken from a daze to realize that we weren’t alone on the dance floor. I could identify. For me the world had shrunk down to just the two of us from the moment I had pulled her into my arms.
“No, thanks. I’m good right where I am,” I told Tasha, catching Karen’s hand and attempting to draw her back to me.
“C’mon. I want to see you play.” She tugged free from my grip, her cheeks becomingly flushed as if her pulse raced because of me. My eyes drifted across her pretty features. Her delicate brows. Her eyes a sunset that glowed with the sweetness of her spirit. Her lips soft and violet-pink like her favorite Dahlia flower. But though I searched for confirmation to support my wishful theory, I could find none in her shuttered gaze. Her shield was up, her soul denied to me. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you perform.” She peered at me through lashes the same golden color as her brows. She wasn’t wearing a bit of makeup not even any mascara. She didn’t need it. She was a natural beauty, her body toned and tanned from her symbiotic relationship with the surf and sun. She lifted her chin toward stage. “Go on,” she said, her tone laced with challenge. “I want to see if my theory about your dancing and guitar technique is correct.”
“Alright.” I dipped my head and leaned in, brushing a few wispy strands of gold aside so I could whisper in her ear. “You can watch all you want, little voyeur, but there’s really only one way to know for sure.”
I didn’t allow her a chance to retort. I jogged up the steps to the stage, hoping she was staring at my backside. I certainly stared at her sexy ass and those shapely legs of hers every chance I got. My lips curved into a grin when I turned and found Karen’s eyes on me. I took the guitar, strummed it a few times and nodded at Patrick. I was pleased with the tuning and even more pleased with the woman standing in front of the stage with her hands clasped close to her chest. She really did seem excited about the prospect of hearing me play. Going toe to toe with my surfer girl certainly excited me. She was challenging and more complex than most people realized. After all she had been our high school valedictorian. She was also a woman of contradictions, more regal in her cut off shorts right now than when she was wearing an expensive business suit. More in charge on her surfboard than she was as a senior VP at Roxy. She had weathered devastating storms, yet never blamed them for the things that had gone wrong for her. But anyone could see they had changed her. She hadn’t emerged unscathed. She used to believe in happily ever after. She had poured her everything into trying to create a love like her parents shared, but after all that had happened a shadow now clung to her, dampening the light of her bright spirit. I didn’t know if she had that type of faith anymore. More than anything, I wanted to banish her darkness. I wanted to be the one to make her laugh again. I wanted to see her happy more than I wanted my next breath. But I was out of practice being what she needed. Would she let me near her heart again? Would she give me a chance to take it if I tried?
“Thanks for that encouraging welcome,” I leaned into the mic, confident on stage, more confident than I was contemplating baring my soul to Karen that was for certain. I locked my gaze with hers. She cocked her head to the side. I knew she wondered what song I would sing, wondered how far I would carry her challenge. Lips curving, I made my decision choosing an old song Patch and I had co-written about our ideals of the perfect woman. The woman I was currently looking at embodied all those things. I adjusted the strap on my borrowed guitar moving closer to Patrick. I told him what I had in mind. While he relayed my instructions to the rest of the band, I wrapped my fingers around the center mic. I reset my gaze on Karen. “I’m Ramon Martinez from the Dirt Dogs. Those of you that know me know that I’m more comfortable standing to the left of center while Linc melts your ears. But I have a little something I need to say to an old friend.” I raked my curls off my forehead with a practiced hand, a habit that served no purpose except to give me something to do because they always tumbled right back into my eyes. “Surfer girl. Pay close attention. This one’s for you.”
Chapter Seven
* * *
Ramon
It was a wonder that Karen didn’t bolt after the performance. I was no front man, and though Free Wave gamely followed my lead, it had been less than polished. Yet the words of the dusty piece Patch and I had laid down years earlier sent the message I wanted her to hear, and it rocked hard on the solo the way I wanted to rock her.
She made her way back to our table after the song was through. I found my gaze on her slim legs and sexy ass as I handed the guitar back to Patrick. I thanked the band for helping me once again and threaded my way through the dense throng of people pressing forward to hear Free Wave. I received more than a few appreciative claps on my back, and I had to stop to take a few cell photos with fans. Behind me I heard the band gearing up for the next number. I had some feedback to share with them later, but for right now I really had only one thing on my mind…
Her.
The crowd thinned as I approached. Though Karen had been focused solely on me during the song, some guy with blond hair nearly as long as her own and standing way too close currently engaged her attention.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I heard him tell her. I had barely been able to catch his words over the jealous roar in my ears.
“Yeah, for sure.” She nodded at him only noticing me as he moved away. Her open expression turned guarded when she took in my frown and stiffened stance.
“Who was that?” I lifted my chin, hoping I sounded casual. I didn’t want to leave an opening for anyone else, but I couldn’t press too close because that might drive her away. I had forgotten how difficult that balance was to achieve.
“Just a guy who surfs the cliffs in the morning.” That familiar faint line formed between her brows. “I don’t remember what his name is.”
“You two surfing together?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
“And you don’t even know his name? Not cool, Karen.”
“There’s a ton of guys out there every morning. I don’t know most of their names
.” Her brows drew tighter together, her eyes flashing golden fire beneath them. “When did you become so uptight about what I do?”
Since I had forfeited the privilege of looking after her. Since this divide had opened up between us. Since I found out how much she had struggled in my absence. And since I’d held her and realized I didn’t want to ever let her go. But I couldn’t say those things yet.
“Come out with me tomorrow.”
“To the pier?”
I nodded.
“I can’t surf there.” Her eyes clouded like the sky before a squall. “That was where I was when I…when they…when I found out…” She trailed off glancing away.
“I understand.” My gut knotted tighter than the fingers I watched her twist together. “But I thought we agreed to leave the past behind us,” I gently reminded her. “Don’t you think maybe it’s time to make some new memories?”
“I can’t. Not at the pier. I’m sorry. I just can’t.” She backed away from me, her agitated movements nearly toppling the pub chair beside her. I grabbed the back of it to keep it from tipping over. “That song was great,” she said to fill the awkward sudden silence between us, redirecting to safer topics. “Your voice…I’ve never heard you sing falsetto. It gave me chills. You should do it more often.” She was being kind when I should be comforting her. “Only…” She trailed off and swallowed. I could tell that whatever she was going to say next would hurt us both. “Dominic played that song for me before he went away that last time. I think maybe it was his way to try to mend things between us.”
(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5) Page 32
