Love Song: A friends-to-lovers rock & roll romantic suspense

by K. G. Fletcher

  She and Sam texted back and forth, mostly at night, and managed to have a few, quick conversations during the week. They shared funny stories about their weekdays, always vocal about how much they looked forward to seeing each other again. With no concrete plans on the horizon, Casey wondered if seeing him was ever really going to happen. She was just about to enter the gym when her phone rang. It was him.

  “Finally!” she muttered to herself. She dropped her bag on a bench outside the entrance and answered. “Hello, Sam.”

  “Hey, darlin’! How are you?” His baritone voice was smooth and sexy.

  “I’m good. How have you been?”

  “Good. It’s been a crazy week at the school. We’re getting ready for a huge recital. I’ve had lots of frantic students coming in after school for extra rehearsal. Thank God it’s Friday!” He laughed.

  “I know,” she agreed.

  “I’ve enjoyed our late-night texting and conversations this week But to tell you the truth, I’d rather see you in person. Do you have any plans tonight?”

  Casey sat on the bench next to her gym bag, aware of the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. The thought of spending one-on-one time with Sam excited her. It was one thing to talk on the phone or text throughout the week, quite another to be with the man in person. Just the thought of his kissable lips made her dizzy.

  “As a matter of fact, I’m wide open. What’d you have in mind?”

  “How would you feel about heading up Georgia 400 and coming to my place for dinner?”

  “I would love that, just as long as I don’t have to cook.” She laughed.

  “You won’t have to do a thing, darlin’. I’ll take care of everything. You might want to leave before four o’clock, though. Traffic on 400 is a beast on Fridays.”

  Sam gave her his address and told her he was really looking forward to seeing her. Relieved they finally made plans, she couldn’t contain her excitement knowing he was cooking her dinner. They said their goodbyes and she hung up, squealing like a giddy school girl. Her spin coach was going to be impressed by her energy.

  ***

  Gwyneth lay on her tummy in Casey’s bed with her head propped on her dimpled hands. The little girl watched with fascination as Casey carefully applied her makeup at the antique vanity in the corner. Every minute or so her niece dipped her small hand into a purple cup filled with goldfish crackers, crunching and staring, transfixed watching her prep for her date. Casey loved her innocence and wonder at the world and did her best to be present in these moments.

  “When you grow up do you think you’ll go out on a date?” she asked softly, sweeping mascara across her lashes.

  “Mmmhummm,” GG mumbled with her mouth full. She finished chewing and sat up sitting cross-legged on the queen-size bed. “I’m going to go on dates and wear lots and lots of makeup!” She smiled, displaying her adorable dimples.

  “Hey, sweet girl, move to the edge of the bed.” The little girl did as she was told, her chubby legs swinging back and forth. “Now, close your eyes.” She scrunched her little eyes while Casey swiped just a touch of eye shadow across her lids. “Okay, you can open. Now open your mouth, just a little bit.” GG opened her mouth, her warm breath smelling of cheesy crackers. Casey dabbed a dot of lip gloss on her rosebud lips. “There.” She picked her up and held her in front of the mirror. “Now we both look beautiful.”

  Gwyneth raised her eyebrows trying to see the eye shadow and licked her lips before she smiled. “Thank you, Cee-Cee.”

  “You’re welcome.” She kissed her on the nose making her giggle.

  Laura poked her head into the bedroom. “What are you two up to?” Her sister was still in her work clothes and looked tired from her long day of teaching. Gwyneth immediately wiggled out of Casey’s lap and ran to her mother.

  “Mama! Cee-Cee gave me makeup!”

  Laura picked up her daughter and peered closely into her little face. “Oooo, I can see it. It’s so pretty!” She turned her attention to her sister and smiled. “Tonight’s your hot date with the drummer, huh?”

  Casey nodded as she applied a final shot of hairspray to her freshly curled hair. “Yes. He’s making me dinner.”

  “Wow. Must be nice.” Laura wasn’t condescending, but teasing in her sisterly way.

  “Don’t worry. You’re having a nice dinner too. I ordered your favorite from Asian Café. It’ll be here soon.”

  “Casey, you’re the best!”

  She stood and examined herself in her full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom. Dressed casual in a simple but pretty red dress and black flats, she grabbed her clutch purse and cardigan.

  “Don’t wait up for me,” she insisted, passing Laura in the doorway and handing her a twenty-dollar bill for the food delivery.

  Laura grinned and shook her head. “You be careful little sister, and don’t drink too much.”

  “Bye-bye Cee-Cee!” Gwyneth yelled.

  Chapter Five

  Traffic on 400 was, as Sam put it, a “beast.” Casey left her apartment closer to five o’clock, which was a huge mistake. She sat in gridlock for over an hour, fuming at herself for not following his instructions to leave before four. The farther north she traveled, the traffic finally started to open up— the five-lane highway shrinking to two lanes and flanked by gorgeous woods. It was late October and the leaves were starting to turn beautiful hues of warm fall colors. The sun was already setting, emitting gorgeous shades of pink and honey across the southern sky. Her GPS talked her through the winding roads as she got off the interstate, snaking her way through the Cumming, Georgia countryside. When the technical voice said, “you have arrived at your destination,” she gasped. Sam Wildner lived on a farm—a real, honest-to-goodness farm!

  “Are you kidding me?” she muttered to herself. She drove along a tree-lined gravel road leading to a white clapboard house that must have been built in the early 1900’s. A quintessential red barn stood majestically nearby, and several goats and two horses lifted their heads and glanced at her from behind a weatherworn rail fence as they lazily munched the faded grass in the massive field. The property reminded her of a Norman Rockwell painting. Out of nowhere, a beautiful golden retriever ran toward the car and barked once before he sat obediently on the ground and wagged his tail as if he was expecting her.

  She parked next to a black Ford F150 pickup truck and took in a deep breath before exiting. Immediately, she could smell something delicious cooking on a smoker. Sam jogged around the corner of the house, his expression genuinely happy to see her.

  “Casey! You made it!” Lunging at her, he wrapped his arms around her in a bear-hug, swung her around, and kissed her lightly on the lips. Breathless from the unexpected welcome, she pulled back from him as the big dog brushed against her legs. Patting his neck, she noticed a washed out, red bandana tied around it.

  “This is Bleu,” Sam grinned. “He’s happy to see you too.” Bleu licked her hand before he trotted back around the house as if satisfied by their first meeting.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. I didn’t leave till after five—you were right, traffic was awful.” She straightened her cardigan, unaccustomed to her sudden shyness. Maybe it was because she couldn’t help but notice his impressive muscles bulging through his tight, black t-shirt. He also smelled delicious with just a hint of BBQ smoke in his hair. Her mouth watered.

  “Well, you’re here now, darlin’. Come on.” He grabbed her by the hand. “Let me show you around.”

  “Is this really where you live?” she asked. It felt like she was on location at an elaborate movie set.

  Sam laughed. “Yes, this is where I live.” Palming open a screen door leading into a mudroom, the springs on the hinges groaned with age. There were big coats and several baseball caps hung on large hooks attached to the white-washed, bead-board walls, and several muddy pairs of work boots were lined up underneath. They walked into an enormous kitchen, which had obviously been updated with modern appliances and fixture
s, but still had an antique look about it with a large farmhouse sink and faded pinewood floors. A huge pot of water was boiling on the massive gas stove. Sam grabbed several ears of yellow corn and dropped them in before he turned the gas off.

  “So, what can I get you to drink? Water? Beer? Wine? Gin and tonic?” He raised an eyebrow humorously, making her laugh.

  “A cold beer would be nice.”

  He nodded and pulled two bottles out of his Sub-Zero fridge, twisting off the tops before he handed one to her. “Cheers,” he offered, clinking his bottle with hers.

  “Cheers.” They both took a sip before he grabbed her hand again and resumed the tour.

  “So, that was the mudroom and kitchen. The only rooms in the house besides the bathrooms that are totally finished.” They went through a small hallway that led into a large living space. Beautiful exposed beams ran across the thirteen-foot-high ceilings and a large stone-stacked fireplace stood majestically as the focal point. The room was sparsely furnished with only an L-shaped couch positioned in the middle and a large flat-screen TV hanging above the old-fashioned mantle.

  “Wow, this is beautiful.” The space in the old home amazed her. Another room was attached to the living area, which would probably have been used as the formal dining room. Instead, a giant claw-foot billiard table took up most of the space. “Oh, I get it—this is your man-cave!” Casey teased, running her hands across the green-felt table. Two huge floor-to-ceiling windows looked out into the front yard of his home with the red barn beckoning in the distance. The sun had just about set, leaving distant colors of deep purple and pink sweeping across the autumn sky.

  Sam fiddled with a receiver tucked into a built-in cupboard that also housed several pool sticks. The distinct horn of Miles Davis filled the air with innovative jazz softly in the background.

  Casey smiled and took a swig of her beer. “Nice. You have a real nice place here Sam.”

  “Why thank you, ma’am.” He winked and took a sip of his beer.

  “Is this a working farm? I saw the horses and goats in the field when I drove up. How do you manage with a full-time teaching job and gigging on the weekends?”

  He grinned. “Those are my neighbor’s animals that he keeps on the property. I don’t charge him anything and in return, he keeps up with the land and the property lines. It’s a fair trade.”

  Casey nodded, trying to take it all in. “So, what brought you out here to live on a farm? Are you a country boy at heart?” she asked.

  Sam laughed. “Hardly. This was my family’s property. My great-grandfather built the place. When my parents died a few years back, it was left to me and my sister in the will. They hadn’t lived here in decades; just rented it out. My sister had no interest in country living, preferring to stay in the Atlanta burbs with her husband and son. I, on the other hand, am very sentimental. I couldn’t fathom the thought of selling the place that my family had built. I didn’t want to keep renting it out, so I decided to move in and fix it up. Maybe I’ll sell in a few years if the price of the land keeps going up. I dunno. I kind of like living out here away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”

  “I’m so sorry about your parents, Sam.” She wasn’t ready to tell him that she knew how he felt, as she had lost her own parents many years ago. They were kindred spirits in more ways than one. He seemed to sense her remorse and approached her, stopping within inches of her face. Staring empathetically into his blue eyes filled with nostalgia, the hip and sexy jazz music floated around them.

  He tucked her hair behind her ear and traced her jawline with his index finger. “I can play the drums anytime night or day and the neighbors won’t complain because they’re miles away.” He looked down at her lips and licked his own before meeting her gaze again. “Bleu and I can basically run around naked and howl at the moon all night and we won’t disturb anyone.”

  Casey choked back a giggle, watching his mouth turn up into an immediate smile. “You’re a little country crazy, aren’t you?” She appreciated the mood shift.

  He ran the back of his hand across her cheek before he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. “You could say that.” As he held her close, she sensed they had a lot to learn about each other. He inhaled the fragrance of her hair. “God, you smell amazing.”

  “You smell delicious,” she replied, referring to the hint of BBQ smoke that lingered on him. His strong arms continued to embrace her as he swayed slightly to the smooth rhythm of the song. Sam was warm and solid and Casey decided she could get used to his affection.

  “I’ve got a brisket going on the smoker. I sure hope you’re not a vegetarian.”

  “Mmmm…no.” She closed her eyes and smiled into his neck.

  “If you were, I also have a salad and corn on the cob. I would’ve had you covered.”

  “Yummy,” she whispered into his ear. He pulled back and took the beer bottle out of her hands, setting it next to his on the pool table. Looking intently into her eyes, he cupped her face with his large hands, and caressed her cheeks with his thumbs.

  “I am so glad you’re here Casey.”

  She leaned into his touch and shyly replied, “Me too.” Feeling the obvious chemistry between the two of them, she could feel her stomach doing flips.

  He licked his lips again. “I’m going to kiss you now. Long and hard. Is that okay?”

  Her breath caught in her chest and she nodded a little too quickly before his lips touched hers, warm and inviting. She’d thought about kissing him all week and now it was happening, in real time. She savored his warm tongue that tasted of hops and barely. He kept one hand on her cheek, the other finding its way to the small of her back and pulling her forward against him. She could feel his hardness through his jeans. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she surrendered to their make-out session, overcome with a deep need to get as close as possible to him. Sliding her hands down his back, she hooked her fingers through his belt loops, the kissing deepening with need and want. His hands slid down her back and he gripped her buttocks, pulling her tightly against his body. His lips left a trail of warmth from her chin down to her shoulder before he relaxed in the crook of her neck and took in a deep breath, stopping abruptly.

  “I’m about to cross a line and we haven’t even had dinner yet,” he mumbled into her skin. When he leaned back from her, she noticed his blue eyes darkened like the deep end of the ocean.

  Casey licked her swollen lips, and felt a heated blush warm her face. She knew deep down that a line would be crossed at some point.

  “I’ve waited all week. What’s a little more waiting through dinner?”

  Sam raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You’ve thought about me, huh?” He leaned against the pool table and held her hands.

  “Yes.” She averted his gaze, glancing shyly at the pine wood floors.

  He kissed her hands before leading her back into the kitchen. “Come on darlin’. Let me serve you that dinner I promised.”

  Minutes later, they sat at the comfortable kitchen table and enjoyed their dinner. They ate off china plates with a delicate rose pattern circling the perimeter and used heavy, real silverware slightly tarnished with age.

  “These dishes are gorgeous. Were they your grandmother’s?”

  Sam nodded and swallowed a mouthful of food. “Yep. They came with the house. No need to replace perfectly good dishes, right?”

  Bleu watched every bite of brisket that went into Casey’s mouth as he sat obediently at the end of the room and waited for some morsel to accidentally fall to the floor. They kept the conversation light, talking about their favorite musicians and albums. Sam made fun of her affection for pop rock, which she quickly made up for by admitting her life-long love of classical jazz. The brisket he smoked was tender and delicious, practically melting on her tongue. She couldn’t believe what a great cook he was. He was also the perfect host, setting a simple table in the farmhouse kitchen with a few votive candles in the middle to add a touch of romance to the meal. It w
as completely dark outside except for the full moon peeking over the top of the barn. The reflection of the candles in the warped antique glass of the kitchen window threw large slants of light onto the ground below.

  Sam flicked a piece of meat to Bleu who inhaled it immediately, not even chewing. “So, you want to see where I practice?”

  Casey wiped her mouth with a faded cloth napkin. “Yes, I would love that!”

  The giant barn door slid easily across a relatively new track system revealing a long aisle flanked by several empty horse stalls. The aroma of the space was immediate—musty and richly smelling of earth and hay. Sam flicked on a bank of lights, illuminating the ancient interior, which was amazingly clean. “Follow me,” he said, a look of delight crossing his handsome face. He proceeded to climb up a ladder attached to the wall into a trap door in the ceiling. Casey followed him uneasily, aware that Bleu stood below looking up her skirt. Sam helped her with the last rung and pulled her into a world that looked nothing like a barn loft.

  “Welcome to Red Barn Studios.” His blue eyes twinkled with pride.

  Casey gasped, looking around as Sam turned on lights and lamps, illuminating the sleek space. A large neon sign above a modern black couch popped to life, spelling the words, “Red Barn Studios” in retro graphics. One whole wall was covered in vintage album covers ranging from Frank Sinatra to Duran Duran. Several university certificates were displayed in black frames, one of which was a Master’s Degree in Music Production and a Ph.D. in Jazz Composition. There was a large console of knobs and computer dials with monitors and a microphone outside a glass, soundproof room for recording. A gorgeous Pearl drum kit was set up on a mini-stage in the corner, the inlaid cherry wood shining as brightly as the chrome of the cymbal stands.

  Casey couldn’t take it all in fast enough and stood in the middle of the room with her mouth wide open. Suddenly, Bleu trotted into the room jolting her back to her senses.