“What’s Garageband?”
“It’s a computer program that lets you record right on the computer, and then you can attach the file to an e-mail. It’s a nice program. Makes it easier for us to work together when we’re not all in the same state. What about you? You said you were working on a master’s degree on a writer?”
“Poet. Eliot. T. S. Eliot. I use Word.”
“Word?”
“The word processing program.” None of that made any sense at all. Her mouth was running and the off switch was stuck. She needed to fix that before she did too much damage.
“You’ll have to introduce me to some Eliot. I’m always willing to learn.” He grinned.
Or he could be into the idea. Alex leaned against the tree and crunched into her sugar cone. He didn’t really want to know about Eliot, regret, and lost opportunity at a Victorian garden party. But this didn’t feel like a line calibrated to get her into bed. He really wanted to get to know her, and unless she could invent some kind of bimbo character to protect her real identity fast, she was going to be herself.
“What did you think of the movie? Have you seen it before?”
And he tried again. Points for that. “I have, but it was a long time ago. It’s nothing like the book.”
“Really? How was the book different?”
“Lots of ways. Most importantly, the monster in the book was the doctor, not the creature.”
“So the creature wasn’t built of dead people?”
“Yes, but the creature had a good heart. Dr. Frankenstein was the bad guy. Kind of how the tool is not evil, but how it’s used can be.”
“Guns don’t kill people, people kill people?”
“Yeah.” Not a bad insight considering he hadn’t read the book.
“Really? I might have to read it.”
Maybe she could break out the poetry with him. Be a little more Jane Austen than Jane Eyre. “There’s a movie version with Kenneth Branagh and Robert DeNiro that was very true to the original book.”
“Maybe we could watch it together.”
“Maybe.” She scanned the square. The band concert was winding down and people were drifting away. On the far side, in front of the bank, stood a stocky man with dark hair. His face was in shadow because of the streetlight behind him, but he had to be staring at her.
Roger.
That bastard. He’d followed her. Well, he was going to get an eyeful.
“I love a man who’s willing to learn.” Alex chucked the remains of her ice cream cone on the grass, swung her leg over Marc’s lap, and planted her lips on his. Butter pecan. One question answered. Not an important one, though, not straddled across him, enveloped in his scent. In that instant, she had no idea why she hadn’t done this before. The sensation of his fingers on her arm earlier was nothing compared to the touch of his lips on hers.
Marc took all of a nanosecond to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her tight to his body. Disorientation swept through her. As revenge sex went, this was not going to suck.
“We can’t go to my place. How’s yours?” she murmured, unwilling to lean back far enough to take in his expression.
“Let’s go.” He stood, carrying her with him. When he set her on her feet, he pulled her tight against his side. Her shoulder fit under his arm like they were designed as a matching pair. She couldn’t help but put her arm around his back. “I parked at the diner.”
“Great.” That path led them right past where Roger was skulking right at the edge of the light cast by a street lamp. That’s right, you bastard. Just watch and remember because you can’t have your cake and eat it, too. This cake just got picked off the bakery shelf by someone who wanted to take her home for real.
None of that made any sense either, but Roger’s expression of mingled horror, desperation, and lust canceled out her own disgust with her wordsmithing. He followed them to Marc’s car where Marc pressed her against the passenger door before he opened it. Heat at the soft touch of his lips swelled through her. Roger was watching. The best revenge.
Then they were headed up the mountain, and she realized she was going to have to have sex with him. She could say no, but that wasn’t her normal brand of stupid. She’d been specializing in saying yes, and this yes could be the best one ever. Alex studied Marc. He was focused on the road, giving her a window to observe. The only man she’d ever made love to was Roger. Marc was younger, fitter. It would be interesting to compare them. And women did this. It wasn’t humiliating or shameful to go home with a man on the second date. Even if it was, she’d already done worse, and it wasn’t like anyone was going to pin two scarlet letter As on her chest.
In front of a huge house, halfway up the mountain, Marc parked the car. Fumbling with keys, he opened the front door of the house and turned to her the second she stepped through.
He pressed her against the wall, lifting her to her toes as he nuzzled her neck. Everything about him was hard. Alex drew her fingers down his back. He didn’t remind her not to leave evidence on him. Oh, yeah. “Marc?”
“Where do you want to go, baby? Here, there?” He lifted his face enough to let her see the couch in the sunken living room.
Wow, this house was amazing. “Everywhere?”
He laughed and scooped her off her feet.
Alex grabbed for his shoulders as a wave of dizziness rattled her. Rock hard shoulders. There wasn’t a soft spot on the man. He carried her to the couch and laid her down.
“I’m glad you decided to extend the evening.” Marc stroked her cheek with the back of his finger.
“I wasn’t doing anything with it.”
He kissed her, stealing her breath.
Alex didn’t think she’d ever want to do anything else ever again. His fingers searched under the hem of her shirt, calluses dragging across her skin like molten heat. She arched to draw him farther in. He groaned. The vibration settled in her belly. She hooked her fingers inside the waistband of his jeans, trying to work her way to the button, but his body pressed too tight to hers. Getting closer was going to require separating. “We’re overdressed.”
“What?” His voice had a very rewarding groggy quality.
“The clothes. There are too many of them.”
He growled and leaned back to pull off his shirt. When he started to lean in again, Alex slithered away.
“Where are you going?”
She smirked. Positioning herself in front of him, she toyed with the hem of her white T-shirt. That clued him in. Marc sat up on the couch, kicked off his sneakers, and stretched his long legs out on either side of her. Undulating, Alex drew the shirt over her head. For an instant, she was blinded by the material. The sound of the wind soughing through the trees competed with Marc’s husky breaths. Then she shook her head free of the shirt and caught sight of his face. The fact that it wasn’t Roger, and this wasn’t his crowded office in the English building, surprised her for a split second. Marc reached for her so she danced backward a step.
“Still too many clothes.”
“We can take care of that together.” He leaned forward and caught one of her belt loops. Before he could reel her in, she opened the button, so he could slide her jeans and underwear down her legs before pulling her under him.
“My feet are stuck in my shoes.” That didn’t hinder anything. Why the hell had she brought it up?
Marc sat up and shook his head. “Are you always going to be this difficult?”
“Difficult? I only made you buy me two ice cream cones before I’d have sex with you.”
“Fair enough.” He slid off the couch and untangled her feet from her shoes and jeans. “To be honest, I prefer to have a woman’s legs wrapped around my hips when she’s screaming.”
“I’ll work on that.”
Marc shucked his own jeans, affording her a moment to drink in the sight of him as he slid on a condom he had produced like a magic trick. Everything about him looked as hard a
s it felt. Velvet over steel. Fine, high quality velvet over the kind of steel used to build skyscrapers. Then everything was obliterated by the sensation of him on her and in her and all around her. Alex caught the wave and held on. Her fingers sunk into his skin as the tension rode up and down her body until it tightened, then broke in a rush.
“Good. Good,” Marc murmured. “Nice touch with the legs.”
Alex pried her eyes open. When had she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips? Better question, how the hell was she going to get loose? Her ankles had knotted together in some kind of complicated maritime knot that would require a dozen Eagle Scouts to undo. Not that she was letting any scouts see her in this condition. “Thanks. I thought you’d appreciate it.” She flexed an ankle. Maybe they would unravel on their own.
“Am I crushing you?” He started to slip sideways.
“No, not at all.” It felt good. Alarmingly good. Crushed into this very soft couch by this very strong man.
Dear God, what was she doing here? Her ankles unwrapped themselves like someone had spoken the magic words.
Marc rose up on his elbows, sliding down her body a few precious inches and lifting the bulk of his weight off her, which both relieved and disappointed her. “So listen, it’s just you and me here if you want to stay the night and we can work on that here, there, and everywhere thing. Or I can drive you back to town if you want.”
“Town?” The last place she wanted to be was down in the valley. She wanted to be here. Right here. For the rest of her life. Hiding and letting herself be used by this man however he wanted. Commitments always got in the way. Job, classes, wives. “I have breakfast in the morning.”
Marc cupped her breast, stroking her nipple through the bra they’d never bothered to remove. “I’m pretty sure there’s some form of breakfast food in the house.”
“No, at the diner. I open.”
He flinched. “What time?”
“Six.”
Marc winced for sure this time. “I could drive you down in the morning.”
“Yeah. I bet you’re all excited about seeing the sun rise over the mountains.” Alex wiggled away from him.
“I can do it.”
“You don’t have to.” Alex pulled on her jeans. She needed to learn to set boundaries. With him and with herself. She also needed a little time to process this development. Besides six a.m. was close. “If you could give me a ride to my cousin’s house, I’d appreciate it. It’s a long walk.”
“Of course I will.” He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. Still naked. Still nice to touch. “What time are you finished?”
“Two.”
“I’ll come for a late lunch and get you then.” He grazed his warm lips across her temple. “We can get to work on that here, there, and everywhere thing tomorrow.”
Heat spilled along her limbs, wanting to drag her to the couch under him. “Okay. I have the day after off.”
“Great.”
Chapter 5
“I thought it was good the way it was.” Marc paced across the living room. Jason had a gift for interfering with his pursuit of Alex.
“I think it could be better.”
He checked his watch. “It’s fucking brilliant now. Look, I’m kinda busy at the moment. Give me a couple of days with it.” Shithead. Woke up in the middle of the night with a brilliant riff and demanded three hours on the phone hammering out a brilliant song, but Jason wanted more. He wanted to be the hardest working man in show business. But why was it so horribly timed?
“A couple of days? What’s her name?”
“Alex.” Alex, the deer he was trying to get to eat out of his hand. He’d gotten that far. Now he needed to domesticate her so she would eat out of his hand all the time.
Jason snickered. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot about her. Have fun. Don’t forget to change the sheets. Cassie wanted me to remind you about it.” Jason hung up.
Jason had been a lot easier to deal with since Cassie came into his life. She was nice enough, except for her weird obsession with sheets.
His phone rang in his hand and he answered. “Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Yes, Jason, it’s you. We just talked.”
“I know, but I forgot to tell you my big news.”
Marc’s gut tightened. What else was going swimmingly in Jason’s perfect life? “What’s that?”
“Cassie’s pregnant. I’m gonna have another kid in about eight months.”
“That’s great.” Marc hoped the sound of his teeth grinding couldn’t be heard through the phone. The connection could not be that clear. “Tell her I said congratulations.”
“I will. I’m pretty excited.”
“Yeah, that’s great. I’m happy for you. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Sure. Have fun.”
Marc dropped his phone on the table and walked out to his car. Better to leave the phone here so he could focus on Alex. If Jason followed form—and there was no reason to believe he wouldn’t—he’d forgotten to tell anyone else about Cassie’s pregnancy in his obsession with his new ditty. He was likely, right now, on the phone with Brian spreading the good cheer, followed by a call to Bear, and then Ty, who might find time between recovering from last night and getting ready to go out tonight, to make a call. Marc took solace in that Brian would be as excited about the pregnancy as he was. Already saddled with two monsters of his own and divorced, Brian wouldn’t want to see his best pal headed down the same path. Though it wasn’t the same path. Not really. Cassie was nothing like Bonnie. She was a great mom to their little girl, and she was long haul material unlike Dez, who had never earned Tessa’s lawyerly seal of approval. Who knew what Bear would say. Cruising into his third year with Maureen, they seemed happy enough, but in no rush to have kids. Ty would say congratulations and run out to have a vasectomy. Then there was the management company. And the assorted hangers-on. Ugh, SendDown was in the studio so there would be separate calls from each of them as the “happy” news spread. On tour, Savitar would all learn at once so that would only entail one call, plus Suzi, from that camp.
Fantastic. He was going to come home with Alex to a whole passel of excited messages, texts, and e-mails, and their next album was going to be delayed for at least a year. His entire life was stalled.
Once upon a time, he and Dez had talked about having children. Then she started cheating on him with her personal trainer the tour before last. At one point, he’d wanted kids, but between Dez and Brian’s less than bucolic experience, maybe he needed to rethink that notion.
Jason’s song was headed in a very upbeat direction. Nothing he could work with in this mood.
Ida smirked at him when he pushed through the diner door. “Well, surprise, surprise.” She sounded like Gomer Pyle on The Andy Griffith Show. “Eating inside today? As if I didn’t know.”
“Yeah. How are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be home resting?”
“It was just a panic attack. Believe me, I’m going to be a lot more panicked sitting at home worrying about what’s going on here.”
Marc folded his arms. “Ida, you have to take care of yourself before your business. You go down and so does it.”
“That’s not what yesterday’s receipts say. Thanks for stepping in. Alex said you were a big help.”
“Nothing you wouldn’t have done in my place.”
Ida laughed. “Can you see me going on stage and playing a guitar in front of those fans of yours? I’d get booed off the stage.”
“You know how to entertain a crowd.” He grinned at her. When Jason announced he was building a house here, everyone thought he’d lost his mind, but it had a special appeal. “It was nothing.”
“Plus you got to work with Alex.”
“There was that.”
“Thought so. Any special requests you want me to relay to the kitchen?”
“No.”
Alex was waiting on a couple in the back who were cooing at each other so much Marc wasn’t sure how she got an order out of them. Eventually, she freed herself to come to his table with a carafe of coffee. “If you want decaf, I’ll have to go get it.”
“Whatever you have is fine.”
Alex’s lips curled into a suggestive smile. “Is that so?”
He couldn’t stop himself from answering that smile promise for promise. “It is.”
“So, am I putting an order in for you or does Paul already know what you want?” she asked, pouring the coffee.
“I’ll take the chef’s choice.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll go let him know.” As she turned away from the table, she gave her hips a little twist that made his groin tighten.
Ida slid into the booth across from him. “So, we were right.”
“About?”
“You and Alex. She’s a fine girl.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“She’s off tomorrow. You’ll have her all to your wicked self all day.”
Ida was a nice lady, but talking about this with her was like talking to his grandma about sex. He needed her off the topic and no sacrifice was too great.
“Did you hear the news?”
“What news?”
“Cassie’s pregnant again. Jason said she’s due in eight months.”
Ida clapped her hands once, somehow managing to not carve herself up with her long, green talons. “Really? I have to call her mama. She said they were going to try again, but I didn’t think it would take so soon.” Ida scuttled away.
That Jason and Cassie had decided to try for another kid was news to Marc. How many kids did they want? Jason had four sisters and two half sisters, but his family was sort of a train wreck. Cassie’s family was composed of her and her parents.
Alex came out of the kitchen with a tray in her hands. She delivered it to a table with a family of four. He watched her sorting out their orders like a pro and getting the kids set up with straws in their drinks and crayons brushed to the side where they wouldn’t wind up in the ketchup. What kind of family did she come from? What kind of family did she want?
Waiting for a Girl Like You Page 6