by Liv Rancourt
She looked fast and fierce, and the confidence in the way she touched Ryker brought the morning’s nausea rushing back. Russell flexed his fist.
Hitting the creep might make him feel better.
“Back off, Russell,” Susie snapped. She edged closer to Ryker, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “You are not going to hit him.”
“He might.” Skip slid his gaze in Russell’s direction, his smile an invitation to keep up the act. Russell did, flaring out his chest and cracking his knuckles. Violence hadn’t been on his list of arguments, but neither was finding Susie in some kind of sex pit. For the moment, he’d stick with what was working.
“He was pretty cranked up in the car.” Skip underscored the threat with a nonchalant toss of his head.
Russell took a step forward. Both Ryker and Susie hopped back. Then she came at him and speared him in the chest with a blood-red talon. “Cut it out, Russell Haunreiter. I broke up with you fair and square, and now Ryker and I are getting married.”
Her words sucked the air right out of the room. Married? He blinked once and flexed his fists for real. “What’d your Mom say when you told her that?”
Susie crossed her arms, lower lip thrust forward. “None of your business.”
Anger, hot and ready, surged through him. “You have told her, right?” Russell might not have been the best boyfriend, but he did care for Susie, and he didn’t want to see her throw her life away. He took a solid step in Ryker’s direction.
This time, Skip slowed him down with a firm grip on his upper arm. “Whoa, boy, simmer down. I meant it when I said I need him to play the drums on Monday.”
“Man, I told Paddy you needed to find a substitute,” Ryker whined, getting between Russell and Susie. Russell choked back a laugh. At least he’s man enough to come out from behind her skirts.
“There’s not enough time.” Skip’s face turned red, and Russell hoped he’d never be on the other end of that glare. “They hired the combo, and we’re all going to be there. Besides.” Skip cocked his head at Russell, as if they were having a private conversation. “If this chicky’s parents show up, aren’t you going to want to be home in Seattle where Daddy can help?”
“Show up?” Susie squeaked.
Ryker wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “They won’t call your parents.”
“I guess we won’t.” Russell shrugged, struggling to keep the excitement off his face. Skip had just handed him the clincher. “But Aunt Maude changed our tickets so we can go right on to Detroit. You take the train with me Wednesday morning, and I’ll forget to say anything.”
“What?” Susie’s outrage all but cracked a window. Russell felt slimy for bribing her, but he needed to get her on the train and didn’t guess appealing to her sense of responsibility would work. If she’d told her parents, he wouldn’t have stooped so low, but she hadn’t, and that worried him.
Ryker stroked Susie’s arm. “Don’t listen to his garbage, sugar pie.”
Russell wanted to break his hand.
“Sounds like a reasonable offer to me.” Skip wandered farther into the room, past an antique love seat. He stopped at the window, peering out the lace curtains like he was expecting someone else to show up. “And if you come back for the gig, Ryker, I won’t remind Russ here to make a phone call back home.”
“You dirty bastard.” Ryker spat the words.
Skip didn’t blink. “Yup. Though if my mama ever hears you say that, we’ll have words.”
“Just get out of here. Go back to wherever you came from,” Susie said, almost incandescent with anger and fear and defiance.
Russell debated his next move. The longer they stood there yapping, the harder Susie would dig in her heels. He didn’t know much about all this love stuff, but Susie sure was worked up. If he and Skip left, that’d give Ryker and Susie a chance to decide on their own whether to show up for the gig Monday night. If they showed, after she’d had time to think about what Russell had said, it’d give him another chance to talk her onto the train.
If they didn’t show, Russell could tell Aunt Maude he’d done his best, short of tying Susie up and dragging her home. And as much as it frightened him, Susie would have to lie in the bed she’d made.
“Come on,” he said to Skip, his decision made. “Let’s get out of here.”
Raking the hair out of his face, Skip gave Ryker one more scowl. “If you aren’t there on Monday, I’ll make damned sure everyone in town knows you’re a welcher.” He brushed past Russell on his way out the door.
Russell followed, pausing in the open doorway. “Susie, I know you won’t believe this, but I do want you to be happy. If you and Ryker are meant to be together, finishing up the shows in Detroit won’t delay things that much.”
After one last look, he left. She’d turned her back to him, wrapped up in Ryker’s embrace.
Chapter 15
The road to Seattle took them back through Long Beach. Just as many tourists packed the streets, but the late-afternoon sun brushed everything with gold. “Hey, there’s a parking spot coming up.” The turmoil in Russell’s gut made it hard to sit still. “Let’s stow this thing and walk around some.” He needed to shake off the dregs of Susie’s sadness.
He also needed to come to terms with his own scumbag behavior.
Skip tapped his thumbs on the wheel as if playing a tune no one could hear. “Maybe we can grab some dinner.”
“I’m buying.” Russell shifted in his seat to keep his knee from bouncing. He probably would have to wire his parents for money, but he owed Skip a meal, and dammit, he was man enough to do that much.
Skip flipped on the blinker, easing to a stop when a family crossed in front of the car, mother, father, and three kids following along like a line of ducklings. “Sure.” His half smile asked Russell a question. “Let’s go see the ocean.”
Out on the street, they mingled with the crowds. They walked past the Sands Theater, the Ocean View Hotel, the Sea Food Café, The Tides, everything named after the beach, although from the sidewalk on Pacific Avenue, they couldn’t see the water.
Skip kept a good foot between them, which Russell appreciated. He had enough on his mind without the distraction brought on by the scent and the warm memories of the other man’s long, lean body.
They came to an intersection with a drugstore on one corner and an old hotel on the other.
“Down there.” Skip pointed in the direction of the beach and jogged across the road. Russell followed quickly to avoid oncoming traffic. Soon they reached rolling, grassy dunes. Fat clouds hung down over the horizon, and the muted rumble of the ocean found an answering echo in Russell’s heart. Seeing the Pacific for the first time might not have been love at first sight, but it sure as hell was infatuation.
The road petered out into sand, and above their heads, a tapered white arch spanned the last stretch of pavement.
Black painted letters spread across the arch. World’s Longest Beach.
A brisk breeze came straight off the ocean, spraying them with fine sand. Skip led the way between the dunes creating a knee-high barrier between town and surf. Sand filled Russell’s loafers, and he paused for a moment to slip out of his shoes and to give himself a chance to get his bearings.
They stopped to let a car drive past on the hard-packed sand. “This isn’t what I imagined.” Russell snorted at his own understatement.
“You ever been to the ocean before?” Skip strolled over to a grassy hillock, too solitary to be called a sand dune, and flopped down.
His casual grace grabbed Russell even harder than the endless stretch of ocean the same color blue as the sky. “This is amazing. I never want to leave.”
Skip chuckled. “So stay.”
For a second, Russell thought he meant more than just one night. He let the word drift, concentrating on the rolled-up hems of his khaki trousers, giving himself something to look at besides Skip. They were going to have to figure out a plan for the night. Somehow he’d thought
they’d be giving Susie a ride. Being alone with Skip in a hotel room near the beach seemed a lot more personal than staying at his apartment.
Russell scratched the back of his sweaty neck. He’d made a mess of things.
A strong gust sent Skip’s hair tumbling into his face. He hoisted a piece of driftwood worn smooth by wind and waves. “We can always drive back tonight.”
Grateful, Russell nodded at the horizon. “That’d be good.”
Snapping off a mottled bit of bark, Skip threw the wood into the sand, his mouth tight. “For that matter, we can leave now.”
“I do want to buy you dinner.” Russell tried not to let Skip’s eagerness to leave bother him. “What’s the problem?”
Skip rested his elbows on his knees, legs crossed Indian-style. “I don’t know if a man’s ever bought me dinner before.” He chucked the wood into a clump of grass. “It might mean something more than you want it to.”
Russell eased back onto his elbows, staring out over the waves. What would it mean, exactly? The sun was hot, but the steady wind cooled him and muffled their conversation. “I’m sorry about last night. The whiskey got the better of me.”
“But do you want to get the better of me?” Skip’s devilish grin brought heat to Russell’s cheeks. This was not the way he wanted the conversation to go.
“I’m only here for another few days.” He linked his fingers and reached his hands over his head as high as possible, knocking out some of his tightness with a long, slow, stretch.
“Before you go back home to find a replacement for Susie? Because if you were hoping for a reconciliation, I’d say you’re stuck in Nowheresville.”
Skip’s comment stung, all right. Russell dropped back in the sand. A gull made a lazy circle overhead. “I guess I deserved that.”
“What do any of us deserve?” Skip stretched out next to him. “You didn’t deserve to have your girl run off with someone new, no more than I deserved to have my drummer skip out of town.”
The gull swooped down low over the water. “I guess they didn’t deserve to have us blackmailing them either.” Russell choked on a lingering sense of guilt. He really wasn’t the kind of man who put the screws to his friends. “You sure you’re not a beatnik?”
“Shut up.”
Unable to stand the thoughts in his head, Russell scrambled to his feet. “I’m going for a walk.” He strode off, trudging through the white dunes, finding his footing where the sand turned dark from moisture. Susie had to take the train with him. She had to.
And then what? Would he really go back home and find a replacement, like Skip said? He walked until Skip was just a dot on the beach, then turned around and came back. The exercise calmed him but did nothing to straighten out his thoughts. The closest he came to a conclusion was to be square with Susie when he saw her again, and to keep his hands to himself after he and Skip had dinner.
Whether or not he found a new girlfriend back home, adding to his list of sins wouldn’t help anything.
When he got back to the dune, the sun beat down and the soft sound of Skip’s snores echoed the waves. Russell poked him. “Are you awake?”
Skip blinked, coughed, and sat up. “I am now.”
“Will you join me for dinner if I promise not to be a jerk afterwards?”
Skip rubbed his jaw, drawing Russell’s attention to the late-day shadow. “If you’re a jerk, you’re walking back to Seattle.”
***
Turned out the tourists had booked every room in town, so after an awkward dinner, they hit the road. Sometime after midnight, Skip pulled into a place called the Hop-In Grocer, just north of Olympia. The grocery was dark except for the red neon glare of the Hop-In sign.
Skip tipped his head against the seat. His eyes closed on their own, giving in to the waves of sleep he’d been fighting for the last seven or eight miles.
Russell sat up straighter and cleared his throat. Red neon light washed over his cheek. Skip curled his fingers to keep from running them along the vulnerable, open stretch of skin. He just needed to get them home safe without any shenanigans. He liked the side of Russell that was loyal to his friends, but he was less fond of being treated second class.
“I started to drift off,” he said.
Russell’s sleepy smile was more open than the guarded mask he’d worn for dinner. “Careful.”
Skip laughed. “Fifteen minutes’ shut-eye, and I’ll be good as new.”
“I could drive.”
Russell looked just as tired as Skip felt. “Let’s find a room.” The odds for finding a motel at this time of night weren’t good, but Skip didn’t want to sleep on the highway either. “There’s a place about a quarter mile back with its vacancy sign lit up.”
“Did it look decent?”
Making a show of it, Skip scanned the parking lot and surrounding street. “I didn’t see any ax murderers when we drove by.”
Russell scraped his fingers over the top of his head. “Good, because I’ve had enough drama for one night.”
“Amen to that.” Skip turned the engine on and put the car in gear, hoping they were both too tired for anything more than sleep. Skip didn’t regret fooling around with Russell, but he sure as hell wished he hadn’t offered him a place to stay. It was like he’d given the guy a knife and told him exactly how to cut out his heart.
The night clerk at the Lee Motel offered them separate rooms, but Skip protested, arguing they could save two dollars by sharing.
“The bed’s a double, but I can bring you a cot,” the clerk said. His shirt was clean and pressed but the hotel logo on the pocket was frayed around the edges. Pretty much like the rest of the place, Skip guessed.
The motel boasted air-conditioning, but the night air was cool enough they simply opened a window to clear the stuffiness. The cot took up most of the free floor space. Russell slipped the chain lock into place on the door, pulled the drapes shut, and Skip found he didn’t have anything to say.
Russell took his turn in the john, then crawled over top of the cot to get to the bed. He lay on top of the covers, shirtless, his broad shoulders bronzed by the sun.
Skip had to tear himself away from the view.
Working quickly, he sluiced his face and armpits with water that smelled like oil. He didn’t have a toothbrush, but he rinsed his mouth. He’d have rinsed other, more private places, but he didn’t have the right tools for that either. Nerves twitched and fluttered in his gut like moths around a bare bulb. It had been so long since he’d spent the night in the same room as a man, he didn’t really know where to start. And with the way Russell blew hot and cold, he didn’t really know if he should.
The cot creaked as Skip wrestled the thing into a comfortable position. The double bed didn’t look like much, especially with Russell taking up most the space, but he bet it didn’t have a metal bar running up the middle.
He found a position that didn’t hurt and shut his eyes. They’d left the bedside lamp on. The room was silent except for the purr of cars on the highway and Russell’s heavy breathing. Between the bar and the lamp, though, no way was Skip getting any sleep.
From the cot, he couldn’t see Russell’s face, but a shift in the mattress had him crack his eyes.
Russell was staring at him.
“Turn off the light,” Skip said.
“What are you doing?”
Skip curled on his side, arm bent at the elbow to support his head. “I’d thought about sleeping some, but the light...”
Russell splayed his hands out on the sheet. “I thought you were just messing up the cot in case anyone came in.”
Skip almost laughed at the puzzled expression on Russell’s face. He wriggled around, twisting the top sheet between his legs, promising himself he wouldn’t weaken.
Russell shifted over to his hands and knees, facing him. “Get up here.”
Skip sat slowly. Russell had been blowing hot and cold since they’d met, and if this was just one more flip-flop, he wasn’t inte
rested.
“You don’t have to sleep down there.”
Skip got his feet on the floor and his fists on the bed. “You sure?”
Russell patted the sheet, eyes dark, cropped hair rumpled.
Sure he’d live to regret it, Skip crawled onto the bed. He kept moving till he straddled Russell’s thighs. Russell shut off the bedside lamp. Squealing brakes outside made them both jump, bringing them even closer.
“I just meant we could both sleep up here.” Russell ran his hands up Skip’s sides, strong and possessive.
“Just sleep?” Skip grinned, hearing the lie for what it was. Neither of them was being honest. He could imagine Russell telling himself he was just being neighborly.
A good neighbor who likes having his dick sucked.
Russell rocked his hips hard enough to silence Skip’s reservations. In retaliation, Skip nipped him on the chin. “You’re a monkey on my back, big guy. I can’t say no.” He thrust his hips once, twice, gripping the other man’s waist to grind their cocks together, internal thermostat rapidly approaching the red line.
“Don’t say no,” Russell whispered.
“Shut up.” Skip sealed his mouth with a bruising kiss, using physical force to drive off the fear of what the morning would bring.
Chapter 16
“Doesn’t mean I’m not still frosted.” Skip tossed Russell the car keys and climbed in the passenger side. He wasn’t mad, exactly, just embarrassed to have given in and afraid of what he might have given away.
“Next time, you can sleep on the cot.”
Skip gave him a squint-eyed glare. “Your good looks will get you in trouble one day.”
Russell just smiled and put the car in gear.
Mom expected him to be on time for visiting hours, and they had a ways to go. “We’re going to need to agitate the gravel to get there by two.” Skip had a stop in mind before they got to Firland.
“I’ll drive as fast as John Law will let me.” Russell pulled the car onto Highway 99. They’d gone several miles, time Skip spent running through solo licks in his head, when Russell spoke up.