by Lily Bishop
“What else is there to tell? You’re in Calliope, I’m here—there didn’t seem to be much point.”
Ric’s lips tightened. “I see. I’m sorry I dropped in on you tonight. I suppose I should have waited until I had an invitation.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t be like that. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Ric cut his eyes away, as if he were trying to decide what to say, and then met her eyes, unafraid. “You need to decide what you want.”
Lindsey’s eyes widened at his abrupt demand. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean that I want it all. I don’t want to have to hide from your family, to feel like you’re ashamed of me.”
“I’m not ashamed of you. I just wasn’t expecting you tonight. I told Laura we’ve been talking.”
One minute, Ric was on the other side of the kitchen and the next his arms circled her waist. The kiss came from nowhere. He held her neck while he pressed his lips to hers in a full court press. This was not the tender approach he had shown on Calliope. This was his frustration, poured out in the open.
Lindsey’s mind reeled. She thought she had imagined the heat that flowed through her at his kiss. She had thought that she couldn’t feel that way from the mere touching of lips. Now she knew the truth. She needed him in her life, needed to explore the potential she had with him.
He pulled back a couple of inches, and she leaned into him, her eyes locked on his lips. “This is talking?” he asked.
“No, this is—” she countered, pulling him back down to her. She teased his lips and swept his mouth with every bit of passion she felt.
“Lindsey, do you need help in there?” Laura’s voice reached through Lindsey’s passionate fog. She pulled back just enough to answer her sister.
“No, we’ve got it. Thanks.” She laughed and leaned into him. “We’ll talk more later. Come eat with us.”
Considering Ric’s unexpected arrival, Lindsey thought dinner went well. Over salads, Fox talked about the new consulting business. He and Laura planned to help smaller hotel properties with marketing.
Lindsey watched them talk, feeling relieved. Maybe Laura would like Ric after all. She cleared the salads and brought out the lasagna. It looked good at least. She cut the lasagna into squares, happy to see that the layers stayed in position. She served the plates, laughing when Fox told her he needed a bigger helping.
Fox was the first to try it. “This is good. You definitely need to hook Laura up with that recipe.”
“Hey, I make a great baked ziti!” Laura protested.
“Yes, you do, but we need to add lasagna to the rotation. Something different.”
Laura laughed. “He’s right. It is good, Lindsey. I didn't know you were going to show me up in the kitchen. And you’re right, this is just like Mom used to make.”
“It’s the best lasagna I’ve had,” Ric added. Lindsey beamed with pride.
#
Ric enjoyed dinner more than expected. When he first realized that Lindsey had visitors, he wasn’t sure how it would go. She seemed prickly, which he understood once he saw it was her sister and her fiancé. To say that he and Laura had not hit it off well was an understatement.
Lindsey's lasagna looked like something out of a magazine and it tasted great too. He watched her flit around the room, topping off drinks, and grabbing more bread from the kitchen. As the hostess, she worked hard to make sure that all her guests had what they needed.
Even Laura seemed to relax a bit, although her hands shook as she passed the bread. She seemed to be accepting Ric’s appearance. It was a start at least.
After dinner, Fox and Laura offered to help with the dishes, but Lindsey said she and Ric would take care of it. Fox took the hint and reminded Laura that Atlanta would be a long drive back. Laura hung back, but together, Lindsey and Fox eased her out the door.
After Fox and Laura left, Lindsey closed the door behind her and looked straight at Ric. "Well, that was awkward.”
“I’m just glad they’re gone. Come here and give me a real hug,” he said.
She came into his arms as if she belonged there. Gone was the prickliness he had felt from her so often on the island. He nestled around her, loving the way her curves melded against him.
“You had a hug in the kitchen, remember? And a kiss,” she teased.
He laughed. “I did steal a kiss, didn’t I? You launched into your whole ‘we’ve been talking’ speech and I wanted none of that.”
“I still can’t believe you’re here. How long can you stay?”
“I told my staff I would be back Monday afternoon. If you want me here. If you don’t, I can drive back to my house in Atlanta and fly home tomorrow.” Ric waited for her answer, hoping she wouldn’t send him away. He still couldn’t get a feel for how she felt about him or what she wanted.
“That’s great. We can drive up into the mountains, go exploring.”
That surprised him. “I like that idea. So where is your roommate? I thought he would be here.”
“He’s working. His uncle and dad opened a bar together. This weekend is the grand opening.”
“Ah. Have you been yet?”
“Not yet. I planned to ride over there tonight with Fox and Laura, but after you got here, I lost interest.”
“Well, let’s go now.” His sense of time vacillated between East Coast and Vegas time, but it seemed too early to be in for the evening.
“Okay, but let’s clean up the dishes first. I don’t want to leave all this overnight.”
After cleaning up, Lindsey changed into a sexy yellow top with spaghetti straps. Díos, did she have any idea how she affected him?
“What, you don’t like it?” Lindsey asked. The fact that he liked it too much must have shown on his face.
“Great color—I just don’t see how I can keep the men from swarming around you. Are you ready?”
“Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SIX
Around the Globe
Ric led her out to his car, a late model SUV.
“Nice car,” she said. “I can’t believe you keep a car this nice when you’re never there. Does your tenant drive it?”
He laughed. “I have a guy at the dealership who takes care of me when I’m in town.”
Whoever said that rich people never pay for anything had to be on to something.
Lindsey gave him directions and then settled back against the soft leather. She glanced over at his profile, but he kept his eyes on the road.
“This feels weird to me.” Lindsey wished she could feel at ease with Ric, like this was something she did all the time.
“What feels weird?” he asked, patient as ever.
“Us. This.” She motioned for him to turn down the main road that would take them into downtown. At least most of the traffic from the earlier football game had dissipated.
He looked over at her. “Want to tell me why?”
Lindsey shrugged. “It’s hard to explain. Calliope was an island adventure, like something out of a book. Now you’re here, eating dinner in my house, taking me to a bar. It just seems … weird.”
“I would say it’s normal,” he countered.
“Which is what’s weird.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’d like to do normal things with you more often. I want us to spend time together, get to know each other. Hold hands.”
Lindsey grinned. His hand felt solid against hers. “Yes, you’ve said that. But it’s one thing to say that and another thing when you’re here. It makes it more real.”
“I should hope so.” He squeezed her hand and let go to make the turn.
“We’re going there,” she said, gesturing to the odd corner building with a large globe on the sign.
During the holiday weekend, downtown teemed with students wearing orange. They got lucky with parking and found a spot a few blocks from the bar.
“This must be quite a change for you after living in
Tallahassee and Miami,” Ric said. He helped her out of the car, and they held hands as they walked downtown.
“A nice change. I think I like life in a small town.” Up ahead, she could see the oversized wooden sign designed like a flat globe.
“So what made them open a bar here?” Ric asked.
Lindsey shrugged. “Who knows? Ben’s uncle has lived near here a long time. This space became available, so he decided to try it. If Ben hadn’t found a roommate, his other option was to move in with his uncle.”
“Well, from the looks of the crowd, the bar may have filled a niche.”
The bouncer asked to see Lindsey’s identification but waved Ric through. While the bar wasn’t standing room only, most of the tables were full. She didn’t know what used to occupy this building, but the renovation appeared successful. Exposed brick lined one wall and dark tongue-in-groove paneling covered the other three. Two pool tables filled the area in the back and both had games in progress. Scarred hardwood floors gave the bar its vintage feeling. Ben had told her that the floors were from the former hardware store at this location.
A large couch sectional filled an entire corner, facing the street for prim people-watching. despite the fact that it had just opened. Tall tables filled the rest of the space.
Lindsey spotted Ben behind the bar and nudged Ric in that direction. Ben’s face lit up when he saw her. He wiped his hands on a towel and shook hands with Ric, the two of them reserved but cordial.
“Lindsey, I was hoping you’d make it. What do you think?”
“It’s an amazing space. I love the couch in front. And what is the front of the bar?”
“Old tin off my uncle’s barn roof. He had the concrete top custom poured.” A river of concrete almost spanned the width of the bar, curving in an S shape.
“It turned out well,” Ric said, running his hand along the top of the concrete.
Distracted by Ric's hand, Lindsey realized she hadn’t introduced Ben and Ric.
“Where are my manners? Ben Morton, meet Ric Salzana from the Bahamas.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ric said, and Lindsey felt his arm drape around her shoulders. The move felt forced and she wanted to edge away, but she stood still, smiling.
“You don’t sound Bahamian,” Ben said when he heard the accent.
“I grew up in Venezuela. Now I run a resort on a private island the other side of Nassau.”
“Ric’s being modest,” Lindsey said. “He owns most of the land on the island and he’s CEO of the resort.”
“So that’s where you went for that blackjack tournament?” Ben asked.
“Yes. It’s a beautiful resort, modeled after an old castle,” Lindsey said, bragging.
Ben nodded to another customer and turned back to Lindsey. “It’s getting busy—what can I get for you?”
“I’ll have a pale ale on draft,” Ric said. “Lindsey, do you want to try a hard cider?”
“Apple cider? That sounds good.”
“Coming up.” He poured the drinks and set them on the bar. Ric pulled out his wallet, but Ben waved him away. “On the house,” he said.
“Thanks,” Lindsey said. “We might see you later.”
Lindsey and Ric turned to look for a seat and she spotted Sarah, a fellow math graduate student. Lindsey waved and the other girl came over. “Sarah, didn’t know you would be here.”
“The gang is upstairs, over by the windows. Who’s your friend?” She sized Ric up, her smile friendly.
“Ric, meet Sarah Waters, one of my graduate student friends. Sarah, meet Ric Salzana.”
“Nice to meet you. Come join us upstairs. I’ll be back up in a bit.” Sarah left them and headed to the restroom.
Upstairs, the bar had more couches and more tall tables. In one corner, a small stage was set up, with speakers and a sound system. Upstairs, gray plaster walls gave the rooms an airy feeling. Vintage photographs of local scenes filled the walls.
Lindsey and Ric found her gang, all math teaching assistants, settled on a pair of couches by the window. The group had gone out a few times since classes had started. Although she didn’t know them that well, they were starting to become friends. She introduced the group to Ric all at the same time: Brian, Stephanie, Whit, and Mary Margaret.
Whit slid over so she and Ric could sit together on the couch. Lindsey snuggled under the arm he draped cross the back of the couch. Ric handled their questions well.
“Lindsey, you were holding out on us!” Stephanie said, laughing. “Who knew you had a guy waiting for you in the Bahamas?”
She smiled, ignoring the way Ric tensed beside her. “I know I told you about him,” she said, laughing. “Y’all just forgot.”
“Just think of me as Lindsey’s best-kept secret,” Ric said. Anyone else looking at him wouldn’t notice the tightness in his smile, but Lindsey saw it.
Lindsey rotated her glass of cider, letting the amber liquid catch the light. “I like this hard cider. How did I not know about this?"
“It’s usually sold alongside beer, and you don’t buy beer,” Ric said, teasing.
Sarah came back up carrying a glass of white wine. Whit gave her his spot on the opposite couch, claiming he had to go speak to a friend.
“So how long are you here for?” Sarah asked.
“I’m headed back Monday. I don’t want to be gone too long during prime hurricane season.”
“And when are you going back down there?” Sarah asked Lindsey, all excited to hear about it.
Lindsey thought about it. “We’ve talked about me coming down for fall break in two weeks.”
“Wow. Fall break in the Caribbean. I might have to climb in your suitcase.”
Lindsey laughed, but hoped that Ric didn’t suggest Sarah come along. She wanted him to herself.
Lindsey glanced up and saw Ben approaching. A thin man with a shaved head and a thick bushy red beard followed close behind him. Lindsey and Ric stood up to greet them.
“Lindsey, I’d like you to meet my uncle, Scott Morton,” Ben said.
“Scott, this is my roommate Lindsey Todd and her friend Ric… I’m sorry, I don’t remember your last name.”
“Salzana,” Ric provided. They shook hands. Scott’s eyes never left Ric.
“That’s an unusual name,” Scott said, one hand pulling at his beard.
“I’m originally from Venezuela.”
Scott’s face whitened and he eased way. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’d better get back downstairs.”
Without another word, Scott was gone. Ben frowned, turning his head from Ric and back to Scott. Either Ric didn’t notice the abrupt departure or didn’t care.
Lindsey smiled, trying to ease the sudden tension. “Ben, you remember my friends from the other night.”
“Sure,” Ben said, waving.
“Great bar, man,” Whit said. “I think this is our new hangout.”
“Good deal. Pass the word.” After Ben and his uncle left, the chatter circled around them again like a fog.
“What was that all about?” she asked Ric. “Ben’s uncle looked like he had seen a ghost.”
“So, who is from around here? Any cool places to see? Maybe somewhere we could take a picnic?” Ric asked, changing the subject.
Whit leaned forward. “I’m from Walhalla. You could go up to the Stumphouse Tunnel, about forty-five minutes north of here.”
“What is that?” Ric asked.
“Before the Civil War, a railroad company started digging a tunnel under a mountain. They planned to link up to a rail line in Tennessee. They never finished.”
“Thanks for the Clemson history update,” Sarah groaned. Whit elbowed her.
“Ignore her. At one point Clemson used the tunnel to cure blue cheese, but now it’s a tourist spot with picnic tables. There’s also a waterfall a short hike away.”
“That sounds like it just might be the trip. Lindsey, do you want another cider?” Ric asked.
“Sounds great.”
> “I’ll be right back.” Ric went back downstairs and Sarah slid over beside Lindsey. Over in the corner, a singer dragged a stool onto the stage and began setting up with a guitar and amp.
“Whew—he was H-O-T-T HOT! And I don’t mean average hot, either. I mean Charleston in July hot. You did not tell us about him. I’m so used to seeing everybody in shorts and a T-shirt, and he shows up in pressed gabardine.”
Lindsey laughed at that. “He dresses for work. I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen him not in a suit.”
“And this is your boyfriend?”
Lindsey felt a little bit put out that Sarah was so surprised. “Well, long distance. We haven’t known each other long.”
“And the way he rolls those R’s, that’s just too sexy.” To punctuate her words, Sarah fanned herself with her hand. “Well, if you decide you’re done with him, send him to me. I could get lost in that.”
Lindsey bristled at the idea of Ric with Sarah and had to remind herself that her friend was only kidding. Maybe.
“Where is Tanya?” Lindsey asked, looking around. She had just noticed that Sarah’s roommate wasn’t with them. “She didn’t come tonight?
“Don’t even get me started. She’s driving me crazy. I told her we were all going out for drinks, but she’s staying home to video chat with her boyfriend in Macon. Who knows. She talks about leaving at the end of the semester to move back with him. I don’t know. You may be seeing someone who doesn’t live her, but at least you go out and have fun.”
“She should at least finish the master’s. What’s a couple of years?”
“I know, that’s what I tell her.”
The singer introduced himself as Rockford Montgomery Levinson the third. “Now that’s a mouthful, so you can call me Rocky. Let’s get this party started.”
He started with a few strums on his guitar and went straight into a cover of a popular country music song. His second song sounded like a cross between country and southern rock. The crowd warmed up to him, clapping and laughing along with the song.