by Ann Lister
“You don't strike me as being the ‘cowboy’ type,” she said.
Ben chuckled, pushing the empty plate to the end of the table, then stretching out on the bench seat. “I've been riding horses since I was old enough to walk. I love to ride - bareback, if I can get away with it. How about you, Syd? Do you like to ride?”
Sydney glanced across the table at him. His eyes were on fire and the sly grin on his face told her they were no longer talking about horses.
“I've never been on a horse,” she said.
Everything he said to her seemed to have a double meaning. It felt much like being the butt of someone's bad joke and she hated it.
“That's too bad. They're beautiful animals,” he said. “If you want, I could teach you how to ride. A good mount is key.”
Sydney lifted her eyes again. This time, there was no doubt of the hidden meaning behind his comment.
“We're not talking about horses anymore, are we, Ben?”
Ben laughed loudly. “You're fun to play with, Syd.”
“Well, I'm glad you're having so much fun, but don't you think you should be entertaining your date?”
“Date?”
“The girl you brought into the diner - isn't she your date?”
Ben glanced over his shoulder toward his brother's table. “No, she's not my date. They're with Simon.”
“Both of them?” Sydney asked.
Ben grinned. “He likes to carry a spare.”
“He's a pig.”
“Yes, I suppose some might see it that way,” Ben said, his eyes connecting with hers again. “I'm not like that - in case you were wondering,” he said, almost as if he were trying to set the record straight. “One at a time for me, Syd.”
Sydney didn't respond and watched as he prepared to leave.
“I'll let you get back to work,” he said. He slid from the booth and pulled several loose bills from his wallet and set them on the table.
“This is another good shot of you,” Sydney said, then filled the computer screen with his image.
Ben set his hands on the table - unnecessarily close to Sydney's, and leaned toward her. He was near enough that she could smell his cologne and look into the open collar of his shirt at the skin around the base of his throat. Two short necklaces dangled there and for a moment, she had to fight the urge to touch them. She felt the blood drain from her face at the thought and looked away.
Ben lowered his face toward the screen, precariously close to her shoulder. The image displayed was of him standing at the edge of the stage, shirtless, with his arms raised above his head in a victorious stance, the microphone still in his hand. The overhead lighting lit the muscles of his chest and stomach defining them perfectly, the tattoo in Old English text bearing the name of his band: Reckless, was almost completely visible on his stomach above the waistband of his low riding jeans.
“Great shot, Syd. I love the lighting. Very theatrical.”
When she made no reply, his eyes shifted to her. He saw the tightness in her chest and the tension in her face. “Are you okay?” he finally asked.
“I'm fine,” she said, but made no attempt to look at him.
Ben's eyes were glued to Sydney's face. He could hear her breathing, smell the herbal scent of her hair. It would be an easy reach for him to kiss her, but he thought better of it. The last thing he needed was another slap to the face.
“I'll look forward to seeing more of your work,” he said quietly, and stood upright.
Sydney nodded, still too flushed to manage a complete thought, and watched him walk to Simon's table.
Every minute that passed, seemed to drag on like an hour. Sydney was forced to listen to the giggles coming from Ben and Simon's table and did her best to ignore it. The late-night stragglers seated at the counter were less fortunate. One by one, Simon managed to offend and annoy each patron, until Sydney was the only other customer in the diner.
The intermittent laughter, napkin throwing, and lewd behavior all but killed her concentration to work. She desperately wanted to leave, but wouldn't give Simon the satisfaction of thinking he had driven her from the place. She waited until she saw their limousine leave the parking lot, then called for a taxi to take her back to the hotel.
CHAPTER FOUR
The tour left Ohio and headed west, covering hundreds of miles in either the bus or on a chartered plane. Sydney hated traveling on the plane because it meant Simon would be there and he always had a snide comment at the ready in hopes of getting a reaction from her. More than once, she sent a terse remark right back at him.
Simon stumbled on-board their flight from Dallas to Denver with several female groupies, and already well on his way to a deep state of drunkenness. Sydney took a seat beside Laura in the front of the plane. The guys all drifted to the back, where there was a living room area with couch seating, tables and a mini bar. A private bedroom was built into the rear of the plane.
Within minutes, the band members resumed their party from where it had originally started backstage in Dallas. The liquor was flowing, the music was vibrating the walls, and Simon and the girls began playing in front of the other guys. The more involved the show became, the louder the cheers became from their eager audience.
Sydney glanced at Laura and covered her ears with her hands.
“This short flight is going to feel like hours, isn't it?” she asked Laura.
“Hopefully, it won't get too out of hand,” Laura said. “If it does, I'll have Mike stop it.”
An hour passed with Simon showing no signs of stopping his antics. Sydney could tell by the comments being thrown around the living room area, the other guys had joined in the sex party with the girls. Far as she could tell, Ben still remained idly watching from the sidelines. At least she hoped he was, and then got angry at herself for caring.
Sydney stood to make her way to the bathroom, which bordered the living room area. She was hoping she could sneak into the stall and back to her seat without being detected by any of the guys. She hadn't made it very far down the aisle before Simon quickly took notice of her approach.
Simon was sitting on a couch. A naked girl straddled his lap. He made no effort to disguise the fact they were having sex, but the noises coming from the girl told Sydney it was all for show and nothing more. Another girl had her mouth working between the legs of the rhythm guitarist.
“Leah!” Simon called to the girl pleasuring the guitarist. “Why don't you go give my brother some of that?”
The girl dutifully stood, crossed the cabin of the plane and sat beside Ben.
“Syd! Are you coming back to watch Ben's show?” Simon asked.
“Leave Syd alone,” Ben shouted.
Ben politely moved away from the girl and watched Sydney disappear into the bathroom. He knew the situation was probably pushing her over the edge and was beginning to wonder if having her travel with them was such a good idea for everyone involved. He knew Simon had a right to have fun, but he also understood why Sydney didn't want or need to be a witness to it.
When Sydney exited the bathroom, Simon was waiting for her, his erection sticking from his pants and secured in his hand. “We'll let you join us, Syd, if you want. I've still got a little something left I could give you.” He laughed into her face and shook his penis suggestively.
“Simon! I said, leave her alone!” Ben said louder, and pushed the girl from his lap.
Simon staggered in the aisle. “Stop sticking up for Syd and take care of the girl you already have,” he said. Simon's blurry eyes shifted back to Sydney. “Come on, Syd, party with us.”
“Go to hell,” Sydney said, and attempted to step around him.
Behind Simon she could see Ben sitting on the couch, trying to stop the girl from undoing his pants. Sydney could hear Ben's protests to the girl, but it didn't prevent the wave of unexplained emotions from crashing through her.
Simon moved toward Sydney in an aggressive manner and she quickly reacted, pushing him firmly on
the chest. In his inebriated state, Simon lost his balance and fell to the floor like a tree in the forest.
Ben's eyes went to his brother's motionless form on the floor, then lifted to Sydney. She was standing in the aisle staring at him, contempt and disappointment etched all over her face, her hands balled into tight fists at her side. Tears glistened in her eyes. She shook her head and walked back to her seat.
A few moments later, Ben sat beside her. Sydney removed her glasses and quickly dried her face.
“I'm sorry about that, Syd,” he said quietly. “I never should have allowed things to get that out of control.”
“Please, leave me alone.”
“Syd…I think we should talk about this.”
“Go back to your party, Ben.”
He sat silent, trying to find the right words to say. “I had no intention of doing anything with that girl,” he said softly.
“Do you think I'd care if you did?”
“I saw the look on your face,” he said. “It went beyond being pissed off at Simon. You're mad at me, too, although I'm not sure why.”
Sydney shook her head. “It's the same bullshit every tour, so I'm not sure why I can't seem to find tolerance for it this time. I guess I'm just really tired.”
“Do you want to quit the tour?” he asked suddenly.
“I'm under contract, Ben. I can't quit.”
“If you want to break the contract, I'll make a few phone calls and take care of it. It's just a piece of paper, Syd. I won't hold you to it.”
“Would you prefer it if I left?”
“I want you to stay, but I won't force you to stay where you don't want to be.”
Sydney tucked her feet beneath her in the seat and set her head against the wall. Ben sat quietly beside her for several minutes, then finally raked his fingers through his hair and stood up.
“Think about what I said and let me know what you want to do,” he said. Their eyes met briefly and Ben returned to the back of the plane.
Once he was gone, Sydney began to cry again and Laura slipped into the seat across from her.
“What's going on, Syd?” Laura asked. “You're not really thinking of leaving the tour, are you?”
“I don't know what I want to do, but I can't imagine anyone would miss me being around at this point.”
“I think Ben would go crazy,” Laura stated.
Sydney looked at Laura with questioning eyes. “Ben survived before I arrived and he'll continue to do so, long after I'm gone.”
Laura exhaled loudly. “You're both unbelievable! I've never seen two people more frustrated with each other. Ben is falling over himself trying not to be obvious about his feelings - even though it's clearly written all over his face every time he sees you. And you - my God! You are going out of your way to deny you feel anything at all! I give up! You both deserve to be alone and miserable.”
Mike appeared at the front of the plane and sat beside Laura.
“What's going on?” he asked.
“Where the hell have you been?” Laura asked.
“I was sleeping in the back bedroom until Ben kicked me out. Did I miss something?”
“World War III between Simon and Syd! How could you sleep through all that noise?”
“I'm sorry, babe, but you know me. Once I fall asleep, I'm out - until someone beats me over the head.”
“Syd is thinking of leaving the tour,” Laura said.
“What did Simon do now?”
“He's only part of the problem.” Laura said.
“And what's the rest?” Mike asked.
“Ben.”
Sydney shifted her position in her seat and glared at Laura and Mike. “You do realize I can hear you, right?”
“Sorry, Syd,” Laura said, and bent closer to Mike's ear. “I'll explain it to you later.”
Mike nodded and reclined the chair to continue his nap.
Sydney closed her eyes and tried to sleep. At that precise moment, she would have given anything to be curled in her own bed at home.
They arrived at the Denver International Airport on schedule and Sydney made her own transportation arrangements to the Brown Palace Hotel. After checking into her room, she went straight to bed and didn't get up until it was time to head to the Broomfield Event Center for the first Denver show. Just before the concert started, Ben approached Sydney in the hall.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked.
“If you make it quick.”
Sydney followed Ben into an empty room. He shut the door and faced her, slowly digging his hands into his pockets.
“I feel as if I owe you an apology, but I honestly don't know why.”
“You don't owe me anything, Ben.”
He nodded with understanding, although he really had no clue what was going through her head and that's what bothered him the most.
“I spoke with Simon and he swears he will make more of an effort to behave himself when you're around.”
“That's not necessary,” Sydney said. “I'm not expecting anyone to act differently because I happen to be around, Ben. But, I do have to say, this is why I prefer to make my own travel arrangements to and from the venues. It eliminates a lot of stress for everyone involved.”
“Point taken, Syd,” he said. “Have you had time to consider my suggestion to quit?” he asked.
“Yes, I have.”
“And?”
“I'm going to finish the tour and fulfill my contract.”
“You don't have to, Syd.”
“I understand that, but I want to. I've come this far with the project, I want to see it finished.”
Relief washed through him. “I'm really glad to hear that, Syd.”
She met his gaze and smiled warmly.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asked.
“I was never mad at you, Ben.
“If that's how you look when you're not pissed, then I don't want to be around when you are.”
“Don't push your luck.”
The next day was a free day for them to do as they wanted before the second Denver show the following night. Sydney slept late into the morning, then took a walk into town to do some shopping. She found a music store, stepped inside, and glanced through the alphabetized catalog of performing artists. She located Ben's band and flipped through the various selections available and purchased two CDs. One CD titled “Dragonfly” she chose simply for the name. The second CD, titled “Carnivores,” she chose because of the beautiful cover art. She drifted around town for a while, had lunch, then went back to her hotel room.
She placed her new CDs into her tiny audio player and slipped the earphones onto her head, then lay down on the bed to listen. The strength of Ben's voice quickly flooded her head, making her body vibrate. His voice simply oozed raw, masculine sensuality without any effort at all. The music was powerful - he was powerful. She loved the way it echoed in her chest. She listened to both CDs, ordered room service for dinner and went to work on her computer.
She was several hours into editing photographs when she heard a knock at the door. Peering through the peephole she saw Ben standing in the hall. She glanced at her outfit of stripped pajama bottoms and tight t-shirt and panicked. She had no time to change, comb the braid out of her hair or even put on some make-up. For a moment, she considered ignoring his persistent knocks, hoping he'd eventually wander back to his own room, then in a moment of weakness, her fingers turned the door knob.
“It's late, Ben. What are you doing here?” she asked him.
He stepped inside Sydney's room and staggered slightly, then leaned against the wall using it for balance. He canvassed her from head to toe and smiled lazily. Sydney self-consciously crossed her arms over her breasts.
“How did you know this was my room?” she asked.
“I have my sources,” he said, and staggered again.
“You're drunk,” she said, then moved back to the table and sat down.
“Not completely.”
He
flopped across the end of her bed and rolled onto his back.
“Don't get too comfortable, Ben. You're not staying here.”
“I just wanted to say hello before I went to bed,” he exhaled, his speech a bit slurred. “I knew you'd still be up working and…I was right,” he said, turning his head to see her. “Don't you ever do anything for fun, Syd?” he asked.
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “I went shopping today in town. That was fun.”
“You should have called, I would have gone with you.”
The thought of him shopping with her was almost laughable and she wondered what he'd have to say if he knew her purchases included his music.
“Were you out with Simon tonight?” she asked.
“He took me to another fine strip club, where I probably had a few too many drinks, then got bored, and decided I'd rather see you.”
“You're allowed to say ‘no’ to Simon.”
“And then what would I have done?” Ben asked. “I can only stay cooped inside my hotel room for so long before I start to feel like a caged animal. I need to see people, have a conversation. It can't always be about work.”
She looked at him again and noticed he had draped his forearm over his face. The snug t-shirt he was wearing had slid up onto his stomach and was exposing quite a bit of skin. His chest was slowly rising with each new breath.
“Ben! You better not fall asleep.”
“I'm not sleeping, just resting my eyes.”
“Maybe you should do that in your own room.”
“I could, but then I wouldn't be with you.”
She studied his form on the bed. His long legs were draped over the edge; his feet still touching the floor. Muscled thighs framed the bulge of his groin, flat stomach, firm chest; there was no doubt he was beautifully put together. She saw his breathing pattern relax again and called his name.