Fall: a ROCK SOLID romance

by Karina Bliss

  “Happy?”

  I just want him to be happy. Horrified, she stared at Mel, who patted her hand.

  “Shall I get the defibrillator?” she said kindly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dimity spent the ferry ride home convincing herself that Mel was wrong. She wasn’t in love with Seth.

  She disembarked reluctantly. Home—Zander and Elizabeth’s home, Seth’s current home—wasn’t a refuge. It was a place where challenges kept piling up on each other, each more difficult.

  She was losing her edge, losing her touch…losing every which way she turned.

  In the parking lot, she sat in the Land Rover she’d borrowed from Zee and Elizabeth and reminded herself that she was a strategist. No matter what shit went down, some part of her brain remained in the war room, composed, in control, and focused on the big picture. The goal. In the heat of battle other people might get disorientated. Not her. And her goal remained saving all their livelihoods.

  Her chaotic emotions calmed.

  Mel was wrong. Dimity wasn’t in love with Seth. They were in lust, pure, simple—and acceptable. She was a break from the nice girls he dated and he was the nice guy whose wild side she enjoyed uncovering. Neither of them had to be ‘on’ with each other and they both found freedom in that. The fling was that simple.

  Starting the Land Rover’s rumbling engine, she drove home.

  Zander had texted that he and Elizabeth were visiting his mother, who lived on the other side of Waiheke, which freed the afternoon for Dimity to start reading Elizabeth’s memoir. Hopefully, she’d find an insight she could use to bolster her cause.

  She heard drums being played in the barn when she turned off the ignition. Excellent, they’ve been delivered. The first thing she’d done in the city was hire a drum kit for Seth. She wanted to remind Zee exactly what he was giving up, and Seth could use the musical therapy.

  Dimity opened the car door. No wonder the sheep in the adjoining paddock had decamped to the far side of the field. He was really tearing it up.

  Halfway to the house, she detoured, compelled by the cathartic quality of his playing. One quick peek wouldn’t hurt.

  Even in the cavernous space, the drum beats reverberated through the rafters. It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the gloom. Engrossed in performance, Seth didn’t notice her standing at the open doors.

  He’d set up the kit in the middle of the barn. Zander had allowed the neighboring farmer to store winter feed here, and behind Seth hay bales were stacked two deep almost to the roof, blocking the light from the only window. A wide plank nailed to the internal framing acted as makeshift workbench and held rusty farm implements, coils of wire and an oil can. Otherwise the space was empty.

  The only drums she’d been able to hire at short notice were entry level—bass, toms, snare, hi-hat and one cymbal, with none of the extensions of Seth’s own kit. If anything, the basic set highlighted his talent as he spun his frustrations into gold with bright, bold beat improvisations. As she listened, a frenzied staccato segued to a slow, sultry swampiness, as musical in the pause as it was in the beats.

  His sleeveless T-shirt gaped at the side every time he moved to reveal tantalizing glimpses of his pecs and the column of lean muscle tapering across his ribs. His hair was damp with sweat and feathered around his face.

  The beat pulsing through her body, Dimity watched him and desire rose fast and hot inside her. Yes, it’s just lust. She moved on the feeling, crossing the hard ground in half a dozen quick strides. Seth stopped playing and the cymbals shimmered into silence.

  Tangling her fingers in his tawny hair, she pulled his head back and he looked up at her, his blue eyes amused and curious. She bent to lick the salty bead of sweat at his hairline and then traced her lips down his cheek and over the raspy stubble at his jaw, down the strong column of his neck. The pulse there jumped against the tip of her tongue.

  A powerful reminder of the transience of life.

  She shoved aside the snare drum between his knees and knelt between his open thighs, sliding her fingers down the armholes of the gaping T-shirt. Clenching her fists in the thin cotton, she said, “For my shirt,” and ripped.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled in that way she loved as he grinned. Resting his hands on his muscular thighs he opened his legs wider, silently surrendering to whatever she wanted to do to him.

  And she wanted to do a lot.

  She opened her fists and the remnants of his T-shirt dropped to the ground. Leaning forward, she kissed and licked and caressed her way down his naked torso, tasting and savoring every damp delicious inch of heated skin while he sat like a king and submitted.

  Her panties were damp by the time she’d reached the metal fastener of his jeans. It was cold to the touch as she flicked it open, her other hand closing on his cock, warm and oh, so hard under the worn denim. Lightly, she closed her teeth over his erection through his jeans, and he gripped her shoulders.

  Freeing the head of his cock, she circled it teasingly with her thumb. “Sit on me,” he said hoarsely.

  “Not yet.”

  Working her way up his body, she traced the sinew of his inner forearm, suck-biting each knuckle on his callused fingers and lingering over the smooth flat nipples on his muscled pecs. She wanted him to moan and he did, his hands busy under her light sweater, pushing up her bra to palm her breasts and return the torment.

  She kissed his face, relishing the texture of his skin, the rasp of beard on his jaw, the smoothness of the skin over his cheekbones. Everywhere but his mouth. This was all about sex. When he tried to kiss her, she said, “Wait.” Stepping away unsteadily, she reached under her pencil skirt to pull off her panties.

  Retrieving a condom from her bag, she gave it to him while she hiked the tight skirt up to her waist before straddling him. His hands cupped her bare bottom, steadying her while she wriggled to take him inside her. But with Seth sitting, she couldn’t free his cock enough to do more than taunt them both. The stool swiveled every time she adjusted her angle. Her frustration built. “I can’t…”

  “Hang on, lover, I’ve got this.”

  She tightened her legs around his waist as he stood and carried her to the wall, bracing her back against it. He shoved down his jeans, cupped her ass, and thrust into her. This was what she needed, hard, rough, fast. The iron creaked behind them, the wooden post snagging the soft cashmere of her sweater, his callused hands cupping her ass. Flesh slapping flesh, sweat and slick heat.

  She gave herself up to sensation, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall, even when her own legs loosened around his hips and she came like a bitch in heat. Wanting it that way, needing it that way.

  His fingers dug into her ass as he found his own release with a shudder and she forced herself down from her high to watch, clinical, detached. Making this all about the sex. Her exquisite relief was more than physical. Mel’s wrong.

  As soon as it was over, she said, “You can put me down now.” Resisting any impulse to linger in the moment or keep him inside her.

  He eased her down his body and rested his head against hers. “You’re determined to kill me, aren’t you Honey B?”

  “You wanted to be my—the affair.” Knees unsteady, she grabbed his ruined T-shirt and used it to clean herself up. “Right,” she said briskly, after they’d straightened their clothing and disposed of the evidence. “Back to work.”

  He laughed and hooked his arm around her waist. “First, tell me what got you all fired up. I’m guessing alcohol at lunch.”

  “I only had half a glass,” she protested. “Your mother got a little drunk though.”

  “I know. She phoned me burbling all kinds of random stuff from how much she loves me to demanding I buy you a Jack Russell puppy.”

  “That is random.” Nervous, Dimity hid her face against his chest. Had Gayle mentioned Frank was home?

  “I had to swear I’d forgiven her before she let me off the phone.” Seth stroked the tense muscles either s
ide of her spine. “Thanks for the drums. They’ve been great for releasing angst.”

  “I heard.” Surely if Gayle had talked about his dad, Seth’s body wouldn’t feel so relaxed?

  “Mel phoned, too.”

  She tried not to stiffen. “Oh?”

  Pushing her hair aside, he nuzzled her neck. “Said you bumped into each other.”

  Literally, when she was hauling me out of the pool.

  “And that after talking to you, she realizes she overreacted to our LA hookup.”

  “Good,” she said weakly. “Anything…else?”

  He pulled away to look at her. “Why do you sound guilty?”

  “I’m not!”

  “You’re hiding something. What tactics did you use—intimidation, blackmail?”

  “I asked nicely.”

  “Okay, now I’m really suspicious. Does Mel still have her other leg?”

  Dimity broke free of his hold. “That is unbelievably insensitive. How can you joke about that stuff?”

  “Because she does. Her amputation happened when she was three after she got away from her grandmother in a parking lot and ran in front of a car. It’s something we’ve grown up with.”

  She already knew that—she’d asked Mel. “Anyway, how could I intimidate that woman? She’s an Amazon.”

  “You’d have to cheat,” he said, and waited expectantly.

  “Ass…I corroborated your story and offered extra witnesses if she didn’t believe me. And before you get mad that I went behind your back—”

  “I’m not,” he said, taking the wind out of her sails completely. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

  There was no self-consciousness in his eyes. Evidently, Mel hadn’t shared her cockamamie theory with him. Relief helped Dimity ignore a twinge of disappointment.

  “Have you talked to Zander yet?” he asked casually.

  “No, he’s out with Elizabeth. Wait, did you let me ravish you thinking they could wander in at any minute?”

  “The entire population of Waiheke Island could watch and I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he said huskily, and she knew he was going to kiss her.

  She stepped away from temptation. “Duty calls…I’ll see you at dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh, and you left your watch in my bedroom.” Confident her boundaries had been reinforced, Dimity headed for the barn door.

  “Honey B, wait up, your hair is all mussed.” Following her, he smoothed it before giving her a critical inspection. “Okay, you’re decent.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. It was a simple kiss, nothing passionate or sexy about it, more of a warm, affectionate boyfriend/girlfriend kiss. As she walked to the house she thought idly, I could get used to that, and then, horrified, I want to get used to that, and then, despairingly, I can’t let myself get used to that.

  And couldn’t pretend any more.

  * * *

  “Are you crying?”

  Dimity jerked upright. Immersed in the manuscript, she hadn’t heard Zee come into his office. “With laughter, sure.” Averting her face, she blinked hard and two tears splashed onto the pages and puckered the paper. “This is really hilarious. You should read it.”

  Elizabeth had said she’d stripped Zander bare, metaphorically, and she had. It was an epic love story, of a woman who saw beyond the pretty and the power, to the man inside the rock icon. A man moving tentatively toward using his big heart, even if it did need jump-starting occasionally to keep it beating on its own. This was exactly why Dimity had to end her affair with Seth. He was making her too susceptible to this stuff. One more night.

  “Can you put the book aside a few minutes? I want to run an idea by you. I’m thinking of asking the publisher if I can buy out Elizabeth’s contract. Since I’m quitting the band she’s moving into the jungle with no real reason to.”

  She spun her chair around, sending half the manuscript pages flying. “You can’t do that! You need the money for—” touring. She forced herself to calmness “—your new life.” Bending forward, she picked up the scattered pages. “And buy it out with what?” she added reasonably. “It’s not like you have piles of cash lying around anymore.”

  He picked up the loose pages out of her reach. “I could accept the insurers’ offer of settlement.”

  “Zee, no! That’s loser talk, and we’re winners.” Panic coiled insider her like a slowly tightening spring. “Full settlement is the only way we can keep all our—your—options open.”

  “Hear me out. If the case drags on for months, I might spend everything I’ve got left in legal costs. And still lose. We both know that justice doesn’t always prevail or I wouldn’t have gotten away with all the shit I have over the years,” he added wryly. “Restoring my good name—such as it was—isn’t as important as Elizabeth keeping hers.”

  Dimity’s fingers closed on the manuscript. “You love her that much?” It was a rhetorical question. Thanks to this damn book, she already knew the answer.

  He looked surprised she even had to ask. “Yes.”

  Their willingness to sacrifice for each other made her claustrophobic, and a tiny bit envious. She couldn’t imagine an equal partnership of give-and-take. More importantly, she couldn’t imagine how the hell she was going to keep Rage together in the face of such blind devotion.

  “But this isn’t just about Elizabeth. If I accept the settlement, I can probably keep the Calabasas house. There might even be a little money for staff bonuses.”

  “Zee—”

  “Let me finish, this next bit is tough for me. You shot me down at the wharf when I said I’d always be there for you, but it’s true. You’re a high flier, meant for big things. Which is why it would be selfish of me to expect to keep you beyond the next few months.”

  He waited for her to speak, but she was recalling the last scene from Gone with the Wind, when Scarlett asked Rhett where she would go and what she would do without him.

  “There is another job that would suit you if you’re interested. Seth thought of it—”

  “Seth knows it’s over?” Intellectually she’d accepted that she might fail to change Zander’s mind. She even thought she’d prepared herself. The reality shattered her.

  “He said something that made me think you’d told him.”

  “No, I would never break your trust.” Like you’ve done mine.

  “Since he’s up to speed, I think it’s only fair I tell Moss and Jared. Tonight.”

  Fair? Everything she’d relied on to give her life meaning was being swept inexorably away, leaving her alone and desperately adrift. And Zee was talking fair?

  Choked up with hurt and anger, she couldn’t speak. She gave and she gave and he didn’t care. Thinking about it, his complete selfishness when she’d met him had probably drawn her to working for him. Another person, like her mother, she could devote herself to serving. Another person who would ditch her once they no longer had need of her. And she hated him for that, even though he didn’t have a clue what he was doing to her.

  She put down the manuscript before her shaking hands gave her away. “Contact the publisher and make an offer to buy Elizabeth out of her contract. It’s a great idea.”

  Zander looked thoughtful. “You don’t think I should talk to Doc first?”

  He was still looking to her for advice like her opinion mattered. Even when, as a person, she clearly didn’t. Unbelievable. She was so angry that it felt as though she was encapsulated in a bubble, removed from her actions. “She’ll only say you can’t afford it—which is true. Find out first whether the publisher’s open to the idea.” Whether Max was or wasn’t didn’t matter, the damage would be done and Elizabeth’s trust broken. Independent women didn’t accept someone trying to run their life.

  He wanted her to support him in his reckless journey, fine. Deal with your own fucking consequences, asshole. I’m done protecting you. She knew she should care about what she was doing, but she didn’t care. She burned to make him feel what she was
feeling. Abandoned.

  “You sure you’re okay with all this?” he said. “You look pale.”

  “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She’d thought that by building an identity through her career and not personal relationships, she’d be safe. But she’d screwed up and come to rely on Zander, thrown herself into his quest, and now he was throwing her to the wolves. “I need fresh air—a walk. Why don’t I take Elizabeth with me? It will give you privacy to make the call. Oh, and it’s after office hours in New York so call Max directly on his cell.” She found the number and gave it to him. Her hands weren’t shaking anymore. “Do it soon, Zee.”

  “Thank you…and for understanding. But I haven’t told you what Seth suggested—”

  “Let’s talk about this later.” She couldn’t think about Seth now. Seth, who didn’t know her at all if he thought a new job would make everything better. Surely he’d seen how much this one meant to her? The small slices of happiness she’d allowed herself to savor with him were over. She was reverting to an intimacy-free diet.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dimity found Elizabeth in the converted shed she used as her writing retreat, sitting at her desk staring trance-like at the copy on her screen.

  “Let’s go see the dotterels and discuss your manuscript.” She’d even dressed for it. Exercise pants, sensible shoes.

  “Five minutes.” Elizabeth started typing furiously. “Let me just…” Her voice trailed off. Her fingers flew across the keyboard.

  “I’ll wait outside.” Her anger still pulsed so hot, she’d combust in such a small space.

  She paced outside the shed. Some deluded idiot—the owner?—had planted sweet peas against a trellis facing the wind-blasted cliff and their slender stems had tumbled into a fragrant heap. God, she hated wishful thinkers. While she waited for Elizabeth, she began roughly untangling them and only succeeded in pulling half the roots out. Dammit! Throwing them on the ground, she brushed her hands on her pants.