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Authors: Desiree Holt

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BOOK: Joy Ride
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“I could tell it the first time. But the thing is, she still won’t tell me her name. Or give me any way to get in touch with her.”

Rick studied him. “Are you sure she isn’t married?”

“I’d bet money on it. Unfortunately we’ve both seen women in that situation before and she doesn’t act like they did. No, it’s something different. Almost as if she’s afraid to tell me. Like she’s one person with me and another when she runs home to whatever world she lives in.”

“Well, I’m certainly not one to give advice on women. But if you feel there’s really something there between you, then hang in there. Read the clues she gives you. If it’s supposed to happen it will. I’ve seen screwier things in my life.”

“I guess.”

But Rick’s words still rattled around in his brain after he left the club. And instead of heading home, he turned in the opposite direction toward his parents’ house. His mother would be home from work now, either taking a casserole she’d made out of the freezer or figuring out where she could nudge his father to take her for dinner.

He loved his incredible relationship with both of his parents who were as much friends as Mom and Dad. It was the reason he could discuss things with them that would shock his friends. When he’d tell his mom about Music Lady, she’d probably suggest he walk away. Still, she was a good sounding board for him, and exactly what he needed right now.

He rang the doorbell twice, his signal, and pulled on the front door at the same time. Open. Good.

“Marc?” His mother’s voice called form the kitchen. “That you?”

“One and the same.”

Frannie Malone was standing at the counter but she glanced over her shoulder when she heard him come in. He hugged her and planted a big kiss on her cheek. “How’s my favorite girl?”

She laughed. “You must be between women if I’m your favorite.” She ran her eyes over him and he knew what she saw—torn jeans and an old T-shirt he’d worn for rehearsal. The stubble on his jaw and the wildness of his hair. What she always called his derelict image. “Not that any woman would want you looking like this.” Then she kissed his cheek. “Of course, I personally think she’d be lucky to get you.”

“Mother’s don’t count. You’re prejudiced.” He opened the fridge and took out a cold can of soda, popped the top and took a healthy swallow.

The stove timer dinged, and his mother put the casserole on the counter into the oven, set the timer and turned to him.

“You know I’m always glad to see you, honey, but I know how busy you are right now. So what brings you here in the middle of the week?” She grinned at him. “Hungering for a home-cooked meal?”

Marc chuckled. It was a well-accepted fact in the family his mother’s culinary skills were limited to casseroles and any kind of breakfast food. As a result, both the senior Malone and the three boys had become skilled cooks. Kitchen time had been a time to bond, to vent, to laugh and enjoy. And when all the boys were old enough, to be flavored with generous sips of an excellent wine.

“Thanks, anyway.” He looked everywhere but at her, struck with a sudden case of nerves. This might be the most important thing he’d ever come to her with and for a moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her reaction.
Shut up. This is why you’re here
. “I think I just wanted some of your sage insight and advice.”

“Uh oh.” She took down a glass, filled it with ice water, and sat across from him. “Spill it, kid. What’s up?”

Marc rubbed his hand over his face. He knew what he had to say would sound stupid even to himself, but he needed someone’s opinion besides Rick’s.

“Okay. Here’s the deal. And try to listen not as my mother, okay?”

She laughed. “That’s a pretty big order but I’ll try.”

He tilted the can and took a long swallow of his soda. “I met this girl. Woman. Female.”

“I
hope
she’s female.” Frannie sipped her water calmly. “But what’s going on here, honey? You haven’t discussed a female with me since you were sixteen, so this one must be special.”

He nodded. “She is. Very special.” His whole body tightened. “ I…have very strong feelings for her.”
And growing stronger by the minute
.

“No kidding? Strong enough to bring her over for Sunday brunch? Or would you be rushing things too much?”

“I…don’t think I could just yet.” How the hell was he going to explain this to his mother? Not that ML wouldn’t fit. Of all the women he’d dated, she was the most likely candidate. He had the feeling his family would love her, if he could ever make this work.

“Oh?” Frannie arched an eyebrow. “Is she gun-shy? I hope she’s not someone I wouldn’t want to meet. I thought you had better judgment, sweetie.”

“Worse than that,” he blurted out. “I don’t know her name.”

“What?” His mother stared at him. “Please tell me you’re joking. Or, wait a minute. You’ve only seen her and not met her, right? Although…no, you wouldn’t have feelings like this for someone you haven’t met. I know you better.”

“Nope. I have actually met her. I probably shouldn’t be telling my mother this but she’s spent the night with me. Twice. Sort of.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “God. Mom, I could really use your take on this.”

Frannie shook her head. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning.”

He swallowed more of his cold drink. “Don’t smack me down at the details, okay?”

“I’ll put away the paddle,” she joked, and he knew she was trying to put him at ease.

“She came into the club a couple of weeks ago on a Saturday night. And Mom? I swear, it’s like electricity zapped between us so strong you could see it. I’d never seen her there before and just by the way she acted, I had a feeling she’d never been in
any
rock club.”

“Do you happen to know why she showed up when she did?”

He shook his head. “No. And I can’t….” He stopped. “Let me finish first. Questions after.”

“Okay. You’re right.”

“So, okay, the more I watched her the more I wanted to know her. I followed her out to the parking lot after closing and I…kissed her. Jesus. It was like stepping into a roaring fire. So I asked her to come home with me.”

Frannie held up her hand. “I think we skip what came next.”

“No kidding.” Heat crawled up is face. “So then I see her in the grocery store the next day and she acts like she doesn’t know me. And I’m telling you, I was pissed as hell.” He got up to get another drink before he went on. “So then she comes back a week later, apologizes all over the place and, um….”

“She goes home with you again,” his mother guessed. “Fade to black here. So what’s the problem?”

“I feel things for her I’ve never felt for another woman. Not just sexual but real emotion. And I think she feels the same way.”

“But?”

“She won’t tell me her name. I call her Music Lady.”

He expected a shocked cry but instead his mother was silent for a long time, drinking her water, staring over his shoulder as she absorbed his story. He was acutely aware of how absurd the whole thing sounded. She’d probably tell him to run like hell, and if he had a brain that was what he’d do. But Music Lady had become so much a part of him, he knew he’d never be able to do it.

Which was why he was here, in his mother’s kitchen, spilling his guts.

“Well,” she said at last. “This is definitely a new twist for you.”

“Tell me about it.”

More silence. Marc jiggled his leg, impatient for an answer. “So what do you think?” he asked, unable to contain himself any longer.

“Honey, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

His eyes widened. “Are you serious? Hopefully something wise and insightful. Maybe that I’m not a dork or an ass or whatever might be holding her back.”

She laughed. “You’re neither, I can assure you. Your father and I did our best to make sure of it.” Then her face sobered. “You know as a good mother I should tell you to forget about her. A woman who won’t tell you her name has to be hiding something. Maybe something you don’t even want to know about.”

“You think that hasn’t occurred to me?” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “I’m not stupid.” His grin was rueful. “At least not much. But I really don’t think she’s married. She wouldn’t be able to spend the time with me she does if she had a husband at home waiting for her.”

“Unless her husband works nights,” Frannie pointed out.

“I still don’t think that’s it. And you know I’ve seen married women in that situation before hanging at different clubs. Unfortunately.” He stared down into his cold drink. “This is going to sound so dumb, but I don’t believe she’s that kind of person. Anyway, it feels like…something different. I’m telling you, Mom. Maybe it’s just my gut talking but she’s…how can I explain this? More like the girls I knew in high school.”

Frannie chuckled. “That may not be the greatest comparison, Marc. I remember some of the girls you dated back then.”

He had to smile. “I was in my immature wild stage. I got over it fast. Anyway, you know what I mean. She’d never even been in a rock club until last Saturday. Can you believe that?” He frowned. “Maybe it’s against her religion or something. You think?”

“I think if that was the case, she wouldn’t have gone home with you. Twice. No, she’s got to be afraid of something.”

He tried to replay every scene with ML in his mind, looking for a clue—anything that he may have missed. “But what?”

“Can’t answer without knowing a lot more about the situation. I’m just guessing but speaking strictly as a woman, I’d say she has trust issues of some kind. Maybe she had a bad experience. If you really have feelings for this woman, even under these circumstances, you’ll have to make her believe she can trust you enough to tell you about herself. You respect women, sweetie. And that should be obvious enough to her to help lower those barriers she’s put up.”

He sighed. “Easier said than done.”

“Honey, if she’s what you want and you think she’s worth it, then you can make the effort.” She laughed softly. “Your brothers will be home this weekend. Want me to send them to the club to scope her out if she shows up?”

“No!” Marc was horrified. He loved his brothers and was very proud of them, but they were the last people he wanted involved in this. “Don’t you dare.”

“Just teasing.” She drained the rest of her water. “Sorry I can’t give you any better advice here. Unless I can meet her for myself, I’m really shooting blind.”

“Okay. About what I figured. But thanks for listening. I’m willing to bet there aren’t too many other moms whose sons could go to them with something like this. You’re one in a million, you know?”

“I’m flattered by such high praise but really, I just love you and want what’s best for you.” She paused. “This is the first time I’ve ever heard you this serious about anyone, Marc. As your mother, I’d really like to see you settle down with someone. But you’d need someone pretty special, someone who can roll with the pinches the music business delivers.”

“This one
is
special,” he insisted. “Despite everything. And I really could see her here for a Sunday brunch. I think you guys would like her a lot.”

“Then hang in there. And speaking of music, how are the new tape and the video coming?”

“Good, good. Mom, I think this is going to be the big break for us.”

“You’ve certainly worked hard enough for it. All of you. And I know how much you want it. So what happens next?”

“We’re doing everything this weekend and on Monday, Rick’s going to sit down with Deep Blue River’s manager. By Monday night, we’ll know if he bites and the deal is on.”

“You know we’ll be crossing our fingers for you. I personally think the band has got what it takes.”

“From your lips to Butch Meredith’s ears,” he told her, standing up and giving her a hug. “You don’t now how much your support means to me. The whole family.”

“We love you,” she said in a fierce tone. “Don’t ever forget it. I’ll send you good thoughts that this thing with Music Lady works out.”

“Thanks. I love you guys, too.” He disposed of his empty soda can and dug into his pocket for his keys. “Okay. I’m gonna run along.”

“You sure I can’t talk you into dinner?”

“Not tonight, I want to work some more on the script for the video and iron out some glitches on my part of the new song. But soon. I promise.”

His mother rose and walked him to the door, giving him another hug. “Take care, Marc. And be careful.”

“I will. Thanks, Mom.” He headed slowly to his truck, shoulders slumped.

Well, that didn’t do anything except to underscore what I was already thinking. Why is it when I finally find a woman I’m pretty sure will complete my life, the whole thing has to be so squirrely?

He drove home, restless and edgy, trying to settle himself down for tonight’s gig. Would she be there tonight? Would she come home with him again? She’d stepped into his world and in an instant, carved out a place for herself in his heart. What did he need to do to make her feel comfortable enough to let him into hers?

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

I’m not going back there tonight
.

Emma repeated it over and over to herself until it echoed repetitively in her brain. She chanted it like a mantra as she drove home from her little shopping expedition. She changed into shorts and T-shirt and sat out on her back porch with a glass of wine. Repeating the words aloud as she managed to choke down a sandwich, she even thought of calling Andrew, still feeling guilty about the way she’d treated him, but blew off that idea before it was complete. So she hadn’t been as nice to him as she might have been. But Andrew wasn’t even listening to her, and there wasn’t much she could do about that.

The Emma who’d been with Andrew would have been shocked at doing something so crazy, figured out how to do penance, maybe even groveled to Andrew. But the new Emma—after Andrew—wanted to kick her old existence to the curb and dig down for the courage to taste life. And courage was what it had taken to give her hair the new look—her blonde hair, now with more silver had an outrageous purple streak. Nothing she could wash out, either. Every time she looked in the mirror, she shocked herself all over again.

BOOK: Joy Ride
13.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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