“Let’s go check it out,” Michelle wheedled.
Roger now stood behind his wife, his hands around her waist. “What do you say, you two? Want to put on your dancing shoes?”
Chad turned to her, his eyes soft. “What do you say, Beth?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure if there’ll be any dancing, but I’m willing to check it out. It’s only a few blocks from here.”
He smiled. “I guess we’re in.” He swung his guitar up and set it in the stand next to him.
“David? Keith?”
“Cheri’s got a headache, and besides, I’m beat. But thanks.”
Keith answered with an air of mystery. “I’ve got other plans.”
“Well, I guess it’s a double-date then,” Roger announced affably.
Chad grabbed Beth’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
***
The two couples piled into Beth’s sedan. Within minutes, Roger and Michelle were going at it in the backseat.
“Newlyweds,” Chad announced, looking embarrassed. “Can’t get enough of each other.” He sighed, looking out the window. Beth laughed to herself.
Navigating the one-way streets, she took them down to the levee, parking on the uneven cobblestones that slanted down to the river.
“Whoa!” Michelle cried out. “Don’t you feel like the car’s gonna tip over?”
Beth laughed. “A little bit.”
They got out of the car carefully. She took stock of her surroundings for the first time. “Oh no.”
They all stood staring at “The Casino Queen,” its blaring lights announcing the new name for “The President.”
“I forgot. They turned it into a riverboat casino.” She turned to the three behind her with a look of disappointment, an apology on her lips, when someone called out in the darkness.
“Hey, there. What are you kids up to?”
Squinting, they could just make out the figure of an older man, sitting on a post near the water, evidently taking a break from walking the tiny dog that was busy wrapping his leash around the man’s feet.
Roger spoke for the group. “We were just looking for a place to dance, but we see now ‘The Admiral’ or ‘The President’ or whatever was turned into a casino.”
“Oh yeah. Done that years ago. It’s a shame. Beautiful boat in its day.” He started walking away, but turned back. “If you want to go dancing, son, there’s ‘The Mississippi Queen.’ She’s moored up yonder.” He pointed down the shoreline.
The four turned their heads as one to see the most spectacular riverboat imaginable. Lights illuminated five decks of the pristine-white “Mississippi Queen.” Even in the dark they could make out the twin black smoke stacks and the fabulous, large red paddle attached to the stern.
Roger said it for all of them. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, baby!” Michelle screamed, jumping up and down, nearly turning an ankle on the irregular cobblestones. “Come on.” She took off, pulling him behind her. They soon put several yards between them and their friends.
Chad peered at Beth sideways with a grin on his face, and wordlessly held out his hand. She smiled and placed her hand in his, meandering up the levee with him. Neither of them spoke; they just allowed themselves to enjoy the magic of the evening, and the closeness they were beginning to feel.
All too soon, they caught up with the newlyweds, who stood agog in the boat’s lights, taken in by its splendor. Beth noticed a limo pulling up on the street above the parking lot that led to the water’s edge. A man in an expensive-looking tuxedo helped a woman in a flowing gown out of the car. They walked down a runway and onto the ship like royalty.
She leaned into Chad. “I think we may be a tad underdressed,” she whispered.
Bending close, he whispered, “I don’t care, do you?”
She gazed into his eyes, the streetlights twinkling playfully in their depths, and knew in that moment she cared about nothing less. She shook her head.
“Good.” His voice was nearly a growl.
Roger and Michelle were already ahead. A man in a doorman-type uniform appeared ready to turn them away. Taking in Roger’s t-shirt and jeans, and Michelle’s trademark thigh-high boots, red leather miniskirt, and the pigtails bouncing from the crown of her head, pink streak and all, he hesitated. But then, he seemed to decide their green spent as well as anybody else’s, took their money, shrugged, and let them pass. Beth reached for some money she had stuck in her pocket.
“Nah-ah-ah,” Chad chastised. “You told me I could pick up the next tab.” She bowed her assent and he paid their admission. He slid his arm around her shoulders as they passed through the archway and onto the ship.
In front of them was a large stage with a full band playing “Moon River.” Poinsettias lined the stage and couples swayed gracefully on the floor in front of it, most in full-length gowns and tuxes. Cloth-covered tables lined the dance floor, the candles on their surface sparkling off the silver trays men carried amid the guests and off the tall champagne flutes they bolstered. The light danced off the necks of bejeweled ladies who wore their hair up in sleek buns, adorned with more jewels, and off their husbands’ conspicuously large cufflinks. As they were taking this in, the band finished its song and announced a brief break while the captain readied his crew for departure.
“Oh, Michelle,” Beth breathed apologetically. “I’m sure this isn’t what you meant when you said you wanted to go dancing.”
“Nonsense,” she cried. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Hey, there’s a table.” She and Roger grabbed champagne glasses from a passing tray and made a beeline for one of the few unoccupied tables. Chad and a relieved Beth followed suit, claiming flutes from the next passing tray and threading their way through the tables behind their friends.
By the time they reached Roger and Michelle, they were fully ensconced at the table. As Chad pulled up a chair next to them, Roger buffeted him lightly in the ear.
“Oww. What was that for?”
“For not telling us what a great singer Beth was before.”
“I didn’t have time—”
“I know, but you should have told me anyway.”
“You make about as much sense as those warning signs on auto visors that say ‘DO NOT DRIVE VEHICLE WHILE IN PLACE.’”
“Hey, that’s my line,” Roger asserted, rapping him again, this time on the forehead.
“Hey, cut it out before I have to take you out on deck and show you who’s—”
“Boys. Boys,” Michelle scolded. She looked to Beth for sympathy. “You can’t take these two clowns anywhere, especially someplace classy like this.”
“Okay, we’ll behave, we promise. Right, Chad?”
Before he could respond, Roger jabbed him again in the arm while Michelle was looking the other way.
“Ouch!” Chad cried out, rubbing his injury.
“Did you see that? Did you see that?” Michelle asked Beth.
She shrugged innocently.
“Oh, you’re incorrigible, the lot of you.”
Roger winked at Beth as they all chuckled.
“So, how long have you two knuckleheads known each other?” Beth queried.
The two who had attacked each other seconds before leaned toward one another conspiratorially. “So now we’re ‘knuckleheads.’ I’ve known this bloke since I was a wee lad,” Roger announced, grabbing Chad’s head and giving him a Dutch rub. Chad escaped the headlock and moved farther away from the tormentor, rubbing his hair and laughing. “Ever since he beat the crap out of me and stole my milk money.”
“You liar! It was you who beat the crap out of me and it wasn’t because of any milk money. It was Susie McFarren.”
“Oh, God. Here they go again with the whole Susie McFarren thing.” Michelle moaned.
“Susie McFarren had the hots for me,” Chad insisted.
“That’s just ‘cause you picked up her damn pencil every time she dropped it.”
“Yeah, well that’s
what nice boys do.”
“Nice boy, my ass. You were just trying to get a look up her dress.”
“He was not!” Michelle cried out in pretend shock, defending him. “That’s the champagne talking,” she proclaimed, leaning into Beth but saying it loud enough so everyone else could hear, “it goes straight to his head. Anyway, Rog, that was your M.O., not Chad’s.”
“Oh yeah. You’re right,” he admitted, while seductively running a hand up under her miniskirt.
“Stop,” she squealed, but she was putting up a weak fight as he began kissing her neck again.
Chad and Beth exchanged an amused look, which turned, after a few seconds, into something more serious. Beth was saved from finding out about the look by the band starting up. When she turned again to Chad, he was standing beside her chair, offering his hand. All of a sudden, she felt very conspicuous in her short boots, jeans, and turtleneck sweater.
She glanced around. “Are you sure we should—”
“You said you didn’t mind,” he reminded her.
Spending the better part of eighteen years with an ultra-conservative husband who would never think of setting foot inside the boat without the proper attire, she now felt oddly uncertain of what she did, or didn’t mind. In the end, she stood up to join him on the dance floor.
She thought about her day, seeing him at the back of the church, laughing with him over dinner, singing with his band, and she began to unconsciously sway in rhythm with him. His hand felt so good on the center of her back. As he pulled her close and their bodies touched, she felt a tingle running up her spine. She asked herself again, “How did I get here?” Everything she was doing was so far from her normal lifestyle. Yet, somehow it felt so right. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and the soft, musical tapping of his tennis shoes on the dance floor.
Still, the voice in her head insisted, You don’t even know this guy. You’ve known him less than twenty-four hours and yet he has his hands around you, and all you want is more of him. He could be a psycho for all you know. The final voice sounded more like Paul than her; he was always so cautious, but invariably more wise. But I do know him, somehow, I do. There’s something there…a connection. Oh, good Lord, I sound like a page out of one of my novels.
A few beats after everyone else on the dance floor, they realized the music was over. The older people smiled and nodded at them, perhaps recognizing in the younger couple a feeling they felt before. Some lucky few of those who looked on may even have still felt it as they danced with their loved one.
A jazzier song started and the dance floor began to clear. Roger and Michelle sat huddled together at the table, oblivious to those around them.
“Want to go outside?” Beth asked.
“Sure.”
The boat was underway and they watched in silence as it passed through the glimmering reflection of The Arch in the water. Beth rested on the rail, and Chad stood behind her with his hands grasping the bar on either side of her. The wind blew their hair softly, and she shivered, regretting her decision to leave her coat in the car.
“Are you cold?” he asked, taking his hands from the rail to rub her arms.
His touch felt so good, she found herself leaning back against him and closing her eyes. How long had it been since she felt a man’s touch? She turned to peek up at him. She had to know if he felt the same way she did.
Chad took his hands from her arms and placed his fingers behind her neck. She froze, unsure of what he was doing. He gently rubbed his thumbs across her mouth, his eyes taking in the delicate curve of her lips as he touched them. Then, his eyes lifted to hers, and she saw in them anguish and need and pain and…something more. He bent closer, inch by inch, tantalizing her as she craned her neck, rising up on her toes to reach him. His lips finally claimed hers with a rush.
His lips felt, oooh, so good, and she realized for the first time how wonderfully full they were. With a moan that filled them both, he kissed her more deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth, his hands sliding down to pull her closer. When he finally pulled away, she almost cried out in protest.
Where she was hearing Paul’s voice earlier, Chad now heard a harsher voice, his father’s. You’re not good enough for this girl, Chad. She’s outta your league. Find yourself one of your usual floozies. You need a little one-night action. You’re incapable of true love. You’ll wind up hurting her in the end.
This was the thought that truly terrified him, but it was as if he couldn’t help being drawn to her. There was something there he couldn’t define.
“Beth, I...” He could find no words to speak to her. This was all so different for him. He had never felt a kiss like the one he had shared with her—one that pulled from the inside out, originating in his core, not igniting on the surface and finding its way down. He pulled her close again and she laid her head on his chest. He leaned down to rest his cheek on the top of her head, and clasped it to his chest with one large hand. He wanted this woman in a way he wanted no other woman. But, for the first time in a long time, he was at a loss as to how to achieve what he needed.
As he tried to sort through the jumble of emotions interwoven in his head, he slowly became aware that the shoulders of the woman he was holding had begun to shake and tears were dampening his t-shirt.
“Beth. Beth. What did I do?” he queried, trying to lift her face. That voice in his head bounced out of the shadows, you’ll wind up hurting her in the end, and then danced off to some other deep recess of his mind.
“You didn’t do anything,” her muffled voice came from his chest, where she was trying to bury her face in her hands. “Dammit,” she blurted out, pounding him suddenly in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Wrong with you? There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Oh, so you often have women who break down sobbing when you kiss them?” she cried bitterly.
“No.” He had to laugh. “This is a first.”
She raised her head from his chest, the tears still shining on her cheeks, and began to laugh, too.
“Oh, there you two are.” Roger crossed the threshold onto the deck. Beth turned away from him, and although Chad’s arms were around her, the bassist could tell he’d interrupted some sort of conversation. “I just thought you’d want to know, the band’s playing one of our songs.”
Chad and Beth started laughing. The idea of an orchestra playing Trapped Under Ice was absurd, and pretty soon the three of them were in hysterics.
Roger was glad to see her laugh. If she was crying, like he thought she was when he’d come out on deck, she needed the pick-me-up. She was a nice girl, and he really wished she weren’t getting involved with Chad. Chad was his best friend, but he was also an emotional basket case, and that wasn’t good for anyone.
CHAPTER SIX
The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. The threesome returned to the table and kept the conversation on a safe level, just the kind of easy banter they all expected with Roger along. After awhile Chad attempted to hold Beth’s hand again, and she rubbed her thumb across his, putting him at ease. When they strolled back to the car, after telling the affable doorman good night, Roger and Michelle again walked ahead, leaving them alone, though Roger occasionally threw a look over his shoulder.
Chad’s arm was around her, continuing to try to keep her warm as the temperature had dropped several degrees more. He loped along without speaking, not sure about how to start a conversation about what had happened. Beth, for her part, was also quiet—perhaps tired from the emotional turmoil she had gone through. As she walked, she began leaning more and more into him, sliding her arm around his waist and laying her head down for brief periods.
When they reached the car, Chad opened the door for her. Michelle and Roger had already climbed into the back. As he moved to go around to his side of the car, she pulled him back, kissing him sweetly before getting into her seat. With a sense of relief, he ambled around to the passenger’s side, sli
ding in beside her. The car ride back was silent except for some soft music playing on the radio. Michelle dozed off and the champagne finally seemed to calm Roger.
In the glow from the dashboard lights, Roger could see Chad and Beth’s hands intertwined, resting between them on the middle console. God help her.
***
At eleven o’clock, they finally pulled into the bumpy dirt lane leading to the private property their tour buses were on. The buses were huge monstrosities, a sort of cross between a bus and RV, with collapsible stairs leading up to a small landing outside the doors. As they pulled up to the clearing housing them, Chad wondered again over the buses clearing the low-hanging branches edging the road.
Michelle woke with the jarring movement, and Roger leaned up, startling the two in the front seat, saying with a funny accent, “Now you know our secret location, ve vill haf to keell you, you know?” When the car rolled to a stop, the pair in the back got out, giving their thanks and goodbyes, and then climbed the steps into the light of a welcoming bus.
Chad and Beth stood by the car, watching the couple. Then, with the click of the door behind Michelle and Roger, they were left in dead silence. Chad leaned against the car. He reached out for Beth’s hips and pulled her close as she turned around to face him.
“Stay,” he spoke the single word softly.
“I can’t,” she murmured, toying with the zipper-pull on his coat. “I’ve got Cassie back at the hotel.” It sounded like an excuse. He crooked a finger under her chin, and gently lifted it. “I can’t.” Her whispered response was swallowed up in his kiss.
He hoped his kiss would persuade her to stay, but Beth pushed away from him and turned, stepping off a few feet as if to clear her head. She ripped a leaf from a nearby tree and stood shredding it in the moonlight.
“Where will you go after St. Louis?”
TRAPPED UNDER ICE (ROCKING ROMANCE COLLECTION) Page 5