Consumed

by Taryn Elliott

  “Oh, sorry!”

  Margo popped up off of him and stood. She pulled a pillow in front of his morning erection and rounded the couch. “It’s okay, Kim. We were just getting up. We thought we’d go into Mongoose Junction.”

  “Oh, it’ll be a busy day over there today. The sun’s shining and the park’s already crowded, according to the news.”

  “Perfect. We don’t need to go to the park when we have our own beach, but the shopping will be something fun to do for a few hours. I haven’t been there in ages.”

  Kim crossed her arms and leaned against the overstuffed chair. “I’ve got some things in the car if you want to help me bring them in. I made things that will keep if you decide to get dinner out tonight.”

  “You don’t have to keep cooking for us.”

  Kim waved her off. “I don’t get to take care of anyone these days. The kids are all gone.”

  Simon peeked over the top of the couch. He should really go out there and help, but the morning wood he was packing couldn’t be controlled by the threadbare boxers he was wearing.

  Margo threaded her fingers through his hair. “I’ll go get the food, you go up and get in the shower.”

  Thank fuck.

  He gave Kim a thank you sign and waited for them to go through the door before he zipped up the stairs. Determined not to whine through a day of shopping with his girl, he took a quick shower. He didn’t bother shaving, it was one more bit of disguise.

  His beard didn’t grow in like the woolly mammoths that he lived with, but the scruff did the job to make him look non-rockstar…sort of. He dug out white canvas hat and aviators. Cutoff khakis and a Dr. Who shirt finished his disguise.

  Beach bum, a la vacationer.

  “Bye, Simon.”

  Simon walked to the loft railing and waved to Kim as she closed the door. Margo stomped up the stairs. “Give me five minutes.” She disappeared into the bathroom and he heard the shower go on.

  Since she seemed to have her heart set on going out, he didn’t go in and bug her in the shower. Instead, he flopped onto their bed and checked his phone for the first time in days.

  He rather liked living off grid. The intrusion of the entertainment news the day before had been an unwelcome invasion into their island life. But now that it had happened, he couldn’t quite get the thought of Snake and Redondo Beach out of his mind.

  He pulled up his recent messages and quickly tapped out a text to Nick.

  SK: why the fuck was Snake at R Beach. That wasn’t his watering hole. He was a Venice boy.

  A message bubble started fluttering almost immediately. Had he been staring at his damn phone?

  NC: He wasn’t exactly monogamous about anything. But it’s a damn good question.

  SK: I wish it hadn’t ended in bad blood. Sucks.

  NC: If he’d come to me, maybe we wouldn’t have had that bad blood. Now it’s just a douche move as his last memory. Fucking sucks.

  SK: How’s everyone else?

  NC: All babies all the fucking time. Kill me.

  Simon grinned at his phone.

  SK: just practice making of babies over here.

  NC: If you knock up VG, I will kill you.

  SK: I think PPE and the chef have cornered the market. I don’t do diapers.

  NC: A-fucking-men.

  The door opened and Simon rolled onto his side as Margo came out in her towel. He propped his head on his hand.

  “Are you just going to watch?”

  He nodded.

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s too blessed hot. I need some island clothes.” She snapped out a pair of shorts and dug into her bag.

  Simon rolled over and snatched his notebook off the bedside table.

  Naked works.

  “Ha ha. No, naked doesn’t work all the time.”

  His phone buzzed and he looked down to see Nick had blown up his phone.

  NC: we got a letter from DL. Three venues fucked us over.

  NC: At least not all five.

  NC: Sorry. Don’t want to surprise you with money shit, but that’s what we’ve got to deal with.

  NC: Donovan says it’s easier to pay than fight. We’d just end up paying in the end anyway.

  NC: It’s just money.

  NC: Don’t break stuff or talk or some shit.

  NC: Simon?

  The pleasure of watching Margo tuck her bodacious boobs into a bikini faded as he read the texts. Money. So much of it. And he had to take it from his bandmates because his voice didn’t work. Unfair from every angle. He didn’t want anyone to pay for his mistake.

  Or more accurately, his fuckup.

  He flung his phone under the pillows. No way was he taking that with him today.

  Fuck.

  Margo turned around with her arms over her head. She was doing something with her hair that only girls knew how to do leaving it sexy and just slightly unruly. When she frowned at him, he pasted on a smile.

  “Ready?” he mouthed.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “All good,” he mouthed.

  She knelt on the bed between his legs. “Are you sure?”

  He leaned up and licked across her lower lip lightly, kissing her until he felt her relax into him. He wasn’t ruining today.

  He didn’t want to lose the quick smile she’d been wearing because his sky was falling.

  Again.

  As it always seemed to be.

  He inched off the bed, his arms still around her as he shuffled her out the door.

  “All right,” she said on a laugh. “I didn’t know you were so excited to go shopping.”

  He kissed her neck and followed her down the stairs.

  “Wait until you see this place. It’s amazing.”

  When they got downstairs, he mimed driving.

  She nodded. “Yep. It’s a little ways from us, but we’ll stop for food and then I shall reward you handsomely with a massage tonight. I had a friend in the Philharmonic who did massage on the side. Money and all that.”

  He waggled his eyebrows and crowded in on her.

  She pushed him away. “Not that kind of massage. Though if you play your cards right, I’ll see if we can redefine happy ending.”

  He groaned and followed her out to the Jeep.

  She looped her arms around his waist. “Stop making noises. Even a groan is bad for your chords.”

  He blew out a breath.

  She rubbed a finger between his brows lightly. “I want your voice back. Not just your singing voice, but I like hearing you say my name. Hell, I even miss you calling me Violin Girl.”

  He touched his forehead to hers. He missed it too. He shuffled them over to the sandy patch along the grass and picked up a stick to write.

  I’ll be dirty talking in no time.

  She read it and bumped him with her hip. “Exactly. Just a few more days and we’ll see Dr. Connor.”

  He nodded. A few more days in paradise then back to reality.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Margo glanced over at Simon in the passenger seat. She couldn’t tell if he was brooding or just enjoying the ride. Surprisingly, he was a bit of a brooder. He hid it well behind sarcasm and perverted remarks, but without his voice, she noticed he was actually more of a thinker.

  She wasn’t sure if it was depression or his actual real self bleeding through. Perhaps a bit of both. Hoping to drag him out of the funk she felt coming over the Jeep, she pulled off Shore Road.

  Trunk Bay was one of the more spectacular views on the island and she wanted to get a smile out of him. He seemed to be as connected to the water and the island as she was.

  He turned to her with a quizzical brow.

  “C’mon. We haven’t taken any pictures. You’re going to love this view.”

  He patted his pockets. “No phone,” he mouthed.

  Surprised, she reached over the back of the seat for her big straw bag. “That’s okay. I have mine.”

  He flashed her his f
ake smile and got out.

  She knew something was bothering him. She hadn’t seen that fake smile since the tour. And that one was his I don’t want to talk about it face. With a sigh, she pulled out her battered canvas hat that she’d found in the closet. The brim was warped and the khaki color was faded from a million days in the sun. She’d had it since she was ten.

  She was determined to get the day started off right. She pulled off her shirt and sprayed on a layer of sunblock. Never the type to walk around in a bikini, she was trying hard to get a little more adventurous. Simon was a sexual creature and she was tired of being the girl who had never been comfortable in her skin.

  She climbed out of the Jeep and found him at the edge of the sandy observation deck. He looked over his shoulder with a real smile this time. She lifted her phone automatically and snapped a picture. He stuck out his tongue and she took another one.

  “Incredible,” she said with a sigh.

  He looped his arm around her neck and hauled her in close. She slipped her arm around his back and swung them around. She held up the phone for a selfie. He took her cell, buried his face in her neck and peeked upward. The reverse image of the viewfinder made them look like any other vacationing couple with paradise behind them.

  “Take the picture. It’s perfect.”

  She heard the telltale click of the shutter and took her phone back. She grinned down at it and impulsively changed her lock picture to them. A few swipes later, she made the trio of pictures a post on Instagram and labeled it as “healing R&R” in the caption.

  He nodded to her cell.

  She held it close to her chest and smiled. “Just enjoying the picture.”

  He squinted at her and held out his hand.

  “Nope, my picture.” She tucked her phone into the pocket of her cutoffs. The view off the vista was breathtaking. It had been way too long since she’d been on the island and she was going to make sure that would change. So would other things.

  She smiled up at him and tipped back her hat. She was changing, all right—hopefully for the better. Because of him.

  She went up on her tiptoes and he met her halfway. The kiss was sweet and uncomplicated. No tongues, no breath-robbing revelations, just them. Just a moment in time that she’d keep as a memory snapshot.

  Fingers linked, she dragged him back to the Jeep and she made sure to fishtail in the sand on her way out of the lookout. He grabbed the roll bar above them and she laughed. She actually was a great driver, no matter what he thought.

  The traffic down to the shopping area was filled with both pedestrian and car traffic with a heavy sprinkling of bicycles and mopeds. It was a helluva lot easier to get around on two wheels during tourist season. They were technically in hurricane season, but you couldn’t tell from the amount of people out and about.

  She lucked into a parking spot in the parking lot. At least then she was almost guaranteed to find their Jeep when they came back tonight. Simon helped her put the cap on the Jeep and she teased him into a smile as they headed for the stairwell down to the main walkways.

  He pushed her into the corner of the stairwell and kissed her stupid before running down the stairs. “You’re a jerk,” she called out and raced after him.

  Her sandals clicked on the cobblestone streets as they walked through the gorgeous archways and dozens of palm trees and greenery strewn cubbies all over the grounds. Most were filled with people eating or enjoying iced beverages of every color in the fruit palette.

  She stopped by a vendor cart and got a banana and mango smoothie for Simon and a berry blend for herself. It was hard to remember to keep the acids down for him. He preferred everything so tart, but it wasn’t good for his healing process.

  He wandered into one of the galleries with rich island wood railings and more stone work. She caught him trailing his fingers over everything from pictures to glass and stoneware. He was a toucher, that was for sure. She caught up to him and lifted his shirt, touching the icy drink to his lower back.

  He hissed and grinned down at her. His dark hair was curling around the edges of his bandanna with the syrupy heat.

  “Hot. Need sustenance.” She held up the smoothie.

  He leaned in, took a drink, and winced. He stopped at a chalkboard display and smudged off a corner and wrote better with rum.

  She laughed. “Nice try. Virgin for you, pal.”

  He swiped away his words and scrawled: Virgins can be delicious.

  “Pig.”

  He hooked his arm around her shoulder, his cup dangling over her chest. The condensation dripped down on her breasts about every minute or so and she was pretty sure he did it on purpose. Considering the wall of heat they were living in, she didn’t complain.

  The coolness felt good.

  Almost everyone was in the same outfit as she was. Bikini top or bathing suit with shorts. Even some that probably should think better of a bikini. It was interesting to see the body image from a tourist standpoint. Portuguese, Brazilian, Spanish, even a few French accents seemed to pervade the area.

  The women didn’t care if they wore a size two or a size twenty-two. The skin was out and they didn’t give two shits about it.

  How many years had she been shamed into covering everything up because she had a few extra curves by her mother’s standards?

  Simon made little designs on her shoulder absently as they strolled through galleries and jewelry stores. He dragged her into a ridiculously expensive women’s shop and bought her a new coral-colored bikini that made her look dark and exotic, with a matching turquoise and coral sarong.

  A few death glares from the clerk kept him from following her into the dressing room. Which was too bad, that might have been fun. She added her own black bikini that she’d use for some personal beach time and a see-thru cover-up that was pure gossamer cream.

  When she tried to divide up the order, Simon pulled the entire pile of clothes in front of him and pushed it at the clerk. The once bitchy saleswoman was all smiles by the time they left.

  “You spent way too much on me.”

  He shrugged and bent down to her. “I like spoiling you,” he mouthed.

  She rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t be spending your money on me.”

  His smile slipped away and he detangled himself from her. “Hungry?” he mouthed.

  What had she said? He definitely shouldn’t be spending money on her. Not just because they couldn’t be sure how long he’d have to live off current earnings, but because she liked knowing she could take care of herself.

  She didn’t want to be beholden to anyone, not even this man.

  Maybe especially not this man. The more she leaned on him, the more she wanted to lean. And that was a slippery slope. In her experience, love didn’t last long and she didn’t want to get used to those ties.

  No matter how good it felt to be around him, or tied to him.

  They wandered into a small café and ordered salads topped with grilled chicken. When the server put a divine-smelling vinaigrette on the table, she put her hand over Simon’s.

  “Do you have ranch or something creamy?”

  The waitress blinked at her. “Sure, Miss. I’ll find some.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  When the girl walked away, Simon sat back in his chair and clasped his hands in his lap.

  “Don’t give me that look. I know you want the awesome-smelling dressing, but it will tear up your throat. It’s full of citrus and vinegars and spices.”

  He slid his gaze away and out the door.

  “Go ahead and pout. It’ll taste just as good with ranch. Besides, I’ve gone on tour with you. I know you like both ranch and Thousand Island dressing.”

  He stabbed his fork into his chicken and jammed it into his mouth with the fake smile.

  “Look, I don’t know what your problem is today.”

  He looked down at his salad and stabbed at the vegetables.

  She reached across and settled her hand over his. “
I’m not trying to mother you. Do you think I like policing you?” she whispered furiously.

  His silvery-blue eyes locked on hers. “Then stop,” he mouthed.

  “What, so you can sabotage your very simple recovery plan? That’s childish.”

  He stood and his hands fisted at his sides. He dropped his napkin into his chair and headed to the back of the café.

  She blew out a breath. “Dammit.”

  The waitress came back with both ranch and a creamy Italian. Margo smiled at her. “Thanks.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Fine. Just too much heat today.”

  “Oh, I know it. I’ve been working here all year and I just can’t get used to the humidity. Especially lately.”

  Margo drizzled on some ranch on hers, even though she really wanted the homemade vinaigrette. If he had to suffer, she would too. “August is a tough month. You’d think the rain would bring it down, but it only gets worse.”

  “Yes!” The girl used her order pad to fan her face. “Do you need more tea or anything?”

  “Do you have a raspberry syrup or anything for the tea?”

  “We have peach.”

  “Good. Add that to both of our refills, please.”

  Simon might be in a better mood if he had some sweetness in his life. He seemed to have a sweet tooth. She sighed and took out her phone. She took a random picture of the café and shot a text to Lila.

  MR: Island paradise, too bad I’m having lunch with a grouchy lion.

  She set her phone down and stabbed at her salad. The ranch was actually amazing as well. Also homemade as far as she could tell. She stole a glance at the back of the café and still no sign of Simon. She hoped he didn’t stalk off in a sulk. He didn’t act like a two-year-old often, but he’d been off most of the day.

  LS: Sorry my news killed the mood. I have every confidence you can find a shirt—or lack of shirt—to get his mind off it.

  Margo frowned at her phone. What news? She hadn’t gotten an update. Then again, she wasn’t actually a member of the band. Times like these acutely reminded her of that fact.

  MR: Are you saying S can be coerced with sins of the flesh?