Like The Wind
Page 18
“Well, yes, there’s that.”
After a long moment, Bodhi broke our connection. Scooping up Sweetpea, he offered me his free hand. “You ready?”
“You’re not going to tell me what he said?”
“Was I supposed to?”
We hadn’t even known each other a day, yet for some unknown reason, I expected to be filled in on his conversation.
“I mean if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine too.” The pout on my lips was unmistakable. I was giving him an out, yes, yet all while still expertly conveying my disappointment. Damn, I was good at this communication stuff.
His lip tipped up slightly as he watched me with curiosity as we strolled. “You can barely contain your curiosity, can you?”
Was I that easy to read? For him, I guess. I side-eyed him, prepared to deny the accusation. But I couldn’t. “I’m truly dying here. Even just a tiny morsel would help.”
Brows drawn together over troubled blue eyes, he kept his gaze on the ground. “He was crying, Breeze – like really crying. I’d never heard him like that and now I feel like a total dick. Then to make matters worse, when he wanted to come get me, I said no.”
When I reached for Bodhi, Sweetpea bared his teeth and I retracted my hand. “It’s not too late. You can go back if you want. I can get someone to pick me up from here. We’re only a few hours from San Francisco now.”
“And leave you and the animals deserted out here on Blubber Beach? I don’t think so. Besides, this doesn’t change what I need to do. I’m still going to find my mother. And at least now everyone will know I’m alive and I won’t need to hide anymore.”
Relief washed over me. Selfish, considering Bodhi’s turmoil. But if he thought his life was going to be smooth sailing now that he’d miraculously come back to life, I feared he had another think coming. “Are you sure you won’t still need to hide? I mean there’s the matter of hordes of preteen and teen girls who will see right through that nifty new hairdo of yours.”
Producing the little mask from his pocket, he affixed it over his nose and mouth. “Problem solved.”
“Except there’s no fire here. In these parts the facemask will be more of a fashion statement than a health requirement.”
“Well, what can I say? I’m a trend-setter. Oh, and by the way, while I was in the car, I logged into my iTunes account. I have a playlist on your phone all ready and waiting for the final leg of our trip.”
“Ahh, damn. I thought you liked the country playlist.”
He grimaced. “I did not.”
“Liar. You said, and I quote, ‘actually, this isn’t too bad.’”
“So, naturally you mistook that for ‘like’?”
“You’re missing the boat, dude. I keep telling you— country’s the new rock. There’s a gold mine to be had there.”
“I already have a gold mine. Now who’s ready for Bieber?”
* * *
We were about an hour into his playlist when an acoustic song came on. Bodhi stealthily reached over and pressed forward without taking his eyes off the road.
“What was that?” I asked, my gaze fixed on his chiseled profile. “I actually liked that.”
“Really?”
A small smile curved his lips so I picked up the phone to investigate. “Ahh, it’s yours.”
Two spots of color stained his cheeks. “And that’s why I skipped it.”
“Why is it on the playlist if you didn’t want me to hear it?”
“Because, and I know this might be hard for you to comprehend, Breeze, but before we met yesterday, I actually had a life unrelated to you. My guess is I added that song weeks ago and forgot it was on this particular playlist.”
“Or,” I mused. “You rushed to add it just for me and then skipped over it to get my attention.”
His sigh was all for show. “Sure. Yes. That’s what happened because I had so much time to plan between breaking my father’s heart and right now.”
I pressed the back button. “Well, anyway, I’m going to listen to it and you’re going to be quiet while I do.”
Bodhi shook his head, but I didn’t fail to notice his smile. “And you don’t have a boyfriend? It’s mind boggling.”
“I know, right? It’s always puzzled me too. Anyway, lucky for you, the position is open and I’m currently taking applications, just, you know, FYI.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
“And Bodhi? Keep in mind that although being a country music fan isn’t required, it might bump your application to the top of the pile.”
“So it’s a big pile, huh?”
“Fairly large, yes. Now be quiet so I can hear your song. I need to see what we’re working with.”
The track wasn’t a typical AnyDayNow song, focused on girls and partying and hip hop dance beats. This song was raw, stripping away all pretenses. Just a boy and his guitar. And that voice. He sang of love and loss with haunted lyrics that spoke to my wounded heart. Whoever he’d written it for caused him pain, and I wanted to be the one to ease his suffering.
Bodhi focused on the road while I listened, then re-listened to the tune. His numerous sideways glances told me he was interested in my opinion, but he had just enough fear of my answer not to ask. Before I could play the song for the third time, he covered my hand with his.
“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” I said once I could formulate a thought. “You’ve got a little of that raspy tone to your voice but at the same time it’s so smooth. And what was the high pitch thing you did toward the end? I got goose bumps. You’re super talented, Bodhi.”
He blushed at the compliment, though I wasn’t sure why. I’m sure Bodhi heard praise all the time.
“Thank you.” He smiled and I smiled back. The energy passing between us fortified me with the courage to say out loud what was screaming in my head. “She must have been pretty special, the girl in that song, for you to have loved her so much.”
Bodhi’s hand shot to his hair, nervous fingers sifting through the strands. When a good minute passed without a response, I added, “Anyway, it was a beautiful song. I’m assuming you wrote it.”
He nodded jerkily.
“Do you have more like this?”
“Enough to fill an album.”
“So then why haven’t you… filled an album?”
“I told you before, it’s not what people are expecting from me.”
“So? What’s good is good. And that song, Bodhi, it’s good. No, it’s great. And I’m not just saying that because we slept together. I’m saying it because I truly believe you have a gift. In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you’ve been wasting your talent in a boy band. You could be the next great country-rock star.”
* * *
We were still on the coast when the sun began to set. Since we weren’t bound by the clock any longer, we pulled over to watch the day turn to night from one of the many sand dunes lining the beaches.
“This isn’t your first sunset, is it?” I asked, leaning against him, the heat of his body warming me in places he couldn’t touch.
“No.” He hummed low in his throat, drawing my gaze. The sun’s filtered rays cast his face in an orange glow, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen a more handsome man. Until he smiled a soft smile. “But it’s the first time with a pretty girl.”
And then it was quiet, just the sound of the surf and his brilliant blue eyes on mine. Trembling inside, I slowly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. We sat there for a moment, connected. To each other. And the sea. And the sunset. And then his arms banded around me and he pulled me closer. This was a new feeling, tender and sweet, yet no less erotically charged than the knock down wrestling matches of last night and this morning. My body tingled in response to the sensitive side of Bodhi. I’d glimpsed it in the song he wrote. But now I could feel it, our bond, to the tips of my toes.
Easing me onto the sand, he shifted, and we were face to face. His hand slid up my arm, past my shoulde
r, and landed on my cheek. Then his mouth was on mine again. Tasting. Exploring. All against the backdrop of the brilliant sky.
“Are you for real?” I asked, a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach as his hand continued to roam. Everything about us felt urgent. Intense.
Maybe it was the fire, but each moment seemed more precious than the next. Whether Bodhi was on board or not, when all was said and done, I’d have no regrets.
“Don’t be fooled by the fancy packaging, Breeze.” His gaze fell to my lips. “Under everything I’m just a screwed-up guy trying to find his way in this world.”
Fully embracing his troubled soul, my fingertips skimmed his cheek. “I see you, Bodhi.”
He jerked back, brows drawn together. “What did you say?”
“I see you,” I repeated hesitantly. “Why?”
After searching my face for a long moment, the smile returned. “It’s just a line I use during my shows to slay the elementary school girls. But coming from you, it doesn’t sound nearly as cheesy.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“You know what I meant.”
And I did. That was the weird part of our connection. It was like I’d known him forever. Like his heart spoke to mine. A tender beat I wanted to hear forever.
17
Breeze: A Fist Full Of Nickels
Bodhi drove slowly down the street, taking in all the stately mansions. “Damn, these are nice houses. Which one is yours?”
Sinking deeper into the plush leather, I chewed my lip. “The single story on the left.”
A moment later when the house in question came into view, Bodhi swung his gaze in my direction and gaped like a fool. “That’s your house?” I jerked a nod. “You have got to be shitting me right now?”
Yes, I lived in Cliffside Estates, an exclusive enclave nestled on a cliff overlooking the Pacific. The mini mansions lining the street were well lit, gleaming masterpieces of architecture. Except for ours.
“Not shitting,” I said with a sigh. “That’s my house. Just pull into the driveway and don’t say a word.”
Before we’d even rolled to a stop, Bodhi collapsed into a fit of laughter. I’d thought about warning him beforehand. But what was the point? The reaction would’ve been the same. Laughter. And it was kind of funny. Though our neighbors probably wouldn’t agree.
You see, in every upscale development there was always one house that pulled down real estate prices. That was ours. My family home may have been located in Cliffside Estates but it was no majestic manor. Surrounded by multi-million dollar estates, our ramshackle dwelling was often referred to as ‘The Black Hole’.
The house had been in my family for sixty years. A throwback to another era, the modest split level boasted outdated bricks and a funky shaped roof. Blanched and weather-beaten, the house was the singular eyesore in a land of giants.
Once upon a time, all the houses on the street looked like ours, back when we’d lived a quarter of a mile walk to the cliff’s edge. But erosion from powerful storms destroyed the homes closest to the bluff, forcing the removal of those residences in danger of crumbling into the surf. Suddenly, our humble abode had become prime real estate.
Investors took notice and came knocking. They offered virtual fortunes and one by one our neighbors fell. Their homes were bulldozed to the ground to make way for new, stately mansions. We were the holdouts, the ones who didn’t bow to the pressure. What the stakeholders hadn’t bargained for when they were making their offers was that not everyone had a price tag and that everyone was my mother. She was the frustrating homeowner with an aversion to all things materialistic. Money meant nothing to her, although admittedly she inherited a nest egg from her own parents which allowed her to live comfortably the rest of her life.
“My parents are… How should I put this…?”
Bodhi shook his head, grinning. “You know what? No explanation needed. This place speaks for itself. It’s like something out of a time warp. Wait, is this the Brady Bunch house?”
“I wish. Then at least there would be an excuse to preserve a historical landmark. I think I must warn you that my parents are every bit as eccentric as the place they live in.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Oh yes! This is going to be epic!” And with that he hopped out of the car like an eight-year-old on his way to a birthday party at Chuck E Cheese.
Joining him at the bumper, I offered a wry smile. “I wouldn’t get too excited. We might not be able to find them inside the place.” When his brow knit, I lifted a shoulder. “They aren’t big on cleaning, so the house will probably be a mess. ”
Before Bodhi could respond, or dive back in the car, the light flicked on. My mother appeared from behind the ivy lattice wall, smoothing the ends of her pixie haircut. One strap of her overalls slid off her shoulder as she sauntered toward us in clunky Doc Martens.
“Are you giving the boy disclaimers, Breeze?” Mom asked. “Please. We aren’t heathens.”
Blinking, she stopped in her tracks as she got a good look at the ‘boy’ in question. Clearly, she recognized him. Which, in turn, shocked the hell out of me. I assumed my parents wouldn’t have a clue who Bodhi was seeing as they didn’t approve of any pop culture occurring after the seventies and eighties.
My mother came out of her coma and let out a whoop, clapping her hands. “Terry!” she called to my step-father. “Get out here! You’ve got to see this!”
“Mom?” Jerking my head in Bodhi’s direction, I widened my eyes and mouthed, “Stop.”
She didn’t and a second later my stepfather wandered out of the house in a pair of rubber ducky board shorts and nothing more. Black tufts of chest hair migrated down his belly, over his shoulders, and blanketed his back. Really? He knew we were coming. He couldn’t at least slip on his favorite Ninja Turtle t-shirt?
“What are you yelling about?” he asked.
Mom pointed at Bodhi. Not a gesture to respectfully announce his presence, but a full-on finger point. I’d warned him they were eccentric but this…
“Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus!” Terrance exclaimed, tipping forward to examine Bodhi like he was an exhibit at the museum.
This was a new low for both of them. Yes, Bodhi was a celebrity, but certainty he deserved some level of respect.
“I called it!” My mother squealed as she pivoted to Terrance to give him a high-five. “Did I not call it?”
“You called it all right, woman. I’m just privileged to know you.”
My stepfather offered an exaggerated bow while Bodhi and I exchanged confused glances.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“I’m just so smart. We saw on the news that Bodhi was missing and I told your dad… I said, watch he’s probably Breeze’s mystery man, the guy who saved her on the hill and holy crapoli – I was right. Damn, I scare myself sometimes.”
“You scare us all,” Terrance agreed before addressing Bodhi. “Nice to meet you, son.” And then me. “How’s my favorite girl in the world?”
He couldn’t just hug me. That would be too simple. Instead he scooped me up, shook me like a ragdoll, then twirled me around. Bodhi received a cuddle too, but his was merely a giant bear hug and thankfully his feet remained on solid ground.
“I can’t tell you how relieved Mom and I are to see you… both of you. What a terrifying experience. We’re so happy you’re finally home.”
Sweetpea picked that moment to make his presence known, erupting into a series of annoying yaps.
“I see we have other guests.” Terrance said and, peeking into the car, he smiled broadly. “Ooh, rats. My favorite.”
Bodhi’s eyes couldn’t have been wider. My stepfather had a gift for captivating an audience. Just not the way he might have hoped.
“I didn’t get my hug,” my mother said as she squeezed me silly, peppering kisses all over my face.
Once I was free of her clutches, her eyes fixed on Bodhi and she opened her arms wide. “Do you mind?”
“Oh yeah, of course,” he said, sliding his arm around my waist. “But your daughter has helped me as much as I’ve helped her.”
“Oh, I’m sure she has.” Mom winked, then her eyes darted back and forth between Bodhi and me. What? No. She’d better not start with the innuendos or I might just have to die. “Did Breeze cut your hair?”
He grinned, his hand raking his freshly shorn locks. “She did. The idea was to make me less conspicuous.”
“Right. I see where she was going with it.” Mom tilted her head, tapping a finger to her lips as she surveyed my handiwork. “Only, I think it might have the opposite effect.” Her gaze shifted to me and she smiled. “If you’re going for unremarkable, Breeze, maybe don’t make him look so hunky.”
“I worked with what I had,” I complained, throwing my hands up. “What was I supposed to do, give him a mullet?”
Before my mom could get in another jab, Bodhi rocked back on his heels and said, “I feel like I’m not even part of this conversation anymore.”
“Welcome to my world, bud,” Terrance said, shouldering past us with the rat cage in his arms. Enthralled by the rodents, he dipped his head and mumbled to his new friends, “Aren’t you gorgeous little fellas?”
“Pretty sure your rodent friends are a boy and girl, Pops,” I said. “I was told their combined Hollywood name is Brangelina.”
“Well, I can’t be sure until I check their underbellies but, from first glance, I think we’re dealing with BradAngelo.” Terrance said as he trudged toward the door. At the last minute he stopped and looked over his shoulder at Bodhi. “You can come help me if you want.”
Bodhi wrinkled his nose. “Will we be checking for rat testicles?”
My stepfather considered the question for a moment before admitting, “Probably, but I’ve got beer in the fridge.”