Joy Ride (8 page)

But that’s not me any more. How can I make her see that?

Emma let out a slow breath, clenching her fists in her pockets.

“Andrew is a very nice man, Mom, but he doesn’t, well, ring my chimes. And I really, really want to hear bells. Lots of them.”

“So let me get this straight.” Angela’s body was set in rigid lines, her eyes flashing disapproval. “You’re willing to throw away a good solid relationship at a time in your life when you should be married, for…for…what? Some unknown man?” She narrowed her eyes. “Or have you already met him? Is that what this is all about?”

Emma turned away again, afraid her expression might give something away and her mother would poke and prod until she got it out of her. That was a conversation she was hardly prepared for at the moment.

“Do you remember Jacie Caldwell? My college roommate?”

“Well, of course, darling. A really nice girl. But what does she have to do with this?”

“She’s Jacie Monroe now. Married, with a great husband that she obviously adores and a really cute kid. And a job she loves.”

Angela frowned. “That’s nice. But I still don’t understand. Wait. Did she call you? Say something to set you off on this?”

“No, Mom. But she came through town last week on her way to a business conference. And you know what?” Emma wanted to cry, thinking about it. Wishing Angela could understand what she was trying to tell her. “She had a sparkle in her eyes when she talked about her husband that I never get when I think of Andrew. And I want that sparkle. Is that so terrible?”

The silence in the room was so loud they might have been shouting.

Finally, Angela rose very slowly from the table, her face set in lines of disapproval. “I swear, Emma, I don’t know what to do here.”

“Nothing, Mom,” she cried. “There’s nothing for you to do except tell me you want me to be happy.”

“I thought you were. Apparently I was mistaken, and I don’t understand how.”

“Can’t you just let me be? Maybe you haven’t noticed but I’m no longer a kid who needs monitoring, for heaven’s sake.”

“We planned a good life for you, Emma, one that would give you security,” her mother pointed out. “You’ve been fine with it up to now. You should be smart enough to know that what make’s Jacie’s life good for her won’t necessarily work for you,”

Emma had to curl her hands into fists to maintain her control. She wasn’t getting her message across at all. “Didn’t you ever just want to take a chance? Do something that was wild and different? Shake up your life?”

“I have no idea what you mean, Emma.”

That was certainly the truth. Emma felt as if they were conversing in two different languages. She huffed in frustration. “Mom.”

“Why ever would I want to do that?” Puzzled, Angela shook her head. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that Jacie came through and visited with you.”

“Look, I appreciate all that you and Dad have done for me. Really. But maybe I’ve realized there might be more to life than what I know and I want a chance to find it. To explore what else is out there.”

Angela studied her for a long moment then sighed. “Just be aware of the fact that when you’re through doing…whatever it is you’re doing, Andrew might not still be waiting.”

“I know you won’t understand this, but I hope he won’t be. I hope he moves on. Finds someone who really appreciates him.”

“Well.” Angela gathered up her purse and keys and headed for the door. “It’s obvious you don’t. Your father will have a fit. He really likes Andrew.”

“Then maybe he should be the one to marry him,” Emma snapped, and instantly regretted the words.

Her mother opened the door and never looked back, just walked out onto the porch and closed the door firmly.

Emma wanted to cry, not because things were over with Andrew but because she realized how impossible it was for her parents to understand her after all these years. Of course, she was just beginning to understand herself. To realize the deep sensuality begging to be fully released. The awareness of self. The need to explore new opportunities. Maybe in every area of her existence. So how could she blame them for not sensing any of this?

Two weeks ago, she had no idea she’d be reliving the thrill of a joy ride and loving it. That she’d discover a world of sensuality previously unknown to her. That the new feelings would crowd out the old ones. Now she didn’t know what to do with them or have any idea where to go from here.

She dumped the remains of the tea in both glasses and stuck them in the dishwasher, then walked outside onto her back porch. Looking up at the sky, she wondered when the first stars would come out. And if wishing on one would help her get what she wanted.

Guitar Man
.

Chapter Five

“Could you possibly get your head out of your ass and pay attention?”

“Huh?” Marc looked up to see Rick glaring at him.

“Exactly. We’re all here. Where are you? Obviously not with the rest of us.”

It was Monday and the band was rehearsing at Aftershock. Or at least three of them were. Marc couldn’t seem to get in sync with the others. His mind kept wandering back to the scene the day before in the grocery store. Why had Music Lady refused to recognize him? He’d spent a fruitless Sunday afternoon and evening trying to come up with answers, which totally shot his efforts to write a new song. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had screwed with his head like this.

“Gotta be a female.” Garrett Barnes, the drummer did a soft rim shot. “Only a female could get his balls in a twist like this.”

“Yeah?” Rick was in his face. “I thought you were the guy who could take ‘em or leave ‘em. Isn’t that right, Marco Polo?”

Marc took a step back, putting space between the two of them. He hated it when Rick called him that stupid name. The guy only did it when he was angry or wanted to get a rise out of him. Right now Marc was sure it was both.

“Yeah, right,” he agreed, barely concealing his irritation. He picked a few low notes on the bass. “Okay, I’m in it. Let’s go.”

But everyone on the stage was well aware his mind was not one hundred percent on the rehearsal.

After another lackluster hour of work, Rick put down his guitar. “Okay, let’s pack it in. Guys, tomorrow at one. We can get in three good hours before we have to go home and get ready for the evening. Marc, hang back a little, will you?”

Marc knew he was going to get the third degree. Well, it was his own damn fault for letting his mind wander when he should have been concentrating on the material. He put his guitar away, carefully snapped the locks on the case, and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting. Garret and the lead singer, Danny Chavez, left and it was just Marc and Rick. And the elephant in the room between them.

“Okay, guy.” Rick hitched his butt onto the stool at one side of the stage and folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s have it. I’m guessing this has something to do with the blonde you asked me about yesterday.”

Marc sighed, picked up the bottle of water next to his guitar case, and took a long drink from it. He capped the bottle with a slow, deliberate movement, trying to figure out how to explain this to Rick.

“I didn’t think the question was so hard,” his friend commented.

“No, it’s not.” Marc exhaled heavily. “It’s just…this will sound so stupid.”

Rick laughed. “No more stupid than half the things I’ve done myself. Come on. Let me have it.”

“Okay, okay.” Marc stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. “Usually all you can see from the stage is the mass of bodies in the crowd. You know? The lights get in your eyes and everything’s distorted.

“But sometimes when they shift, you can zero in on someone, right?”

“Right. Just as we were finishing
Hard Lovin’ Man
, I glanced down and there she was. Practically shoved up against the stage from the force of the crowd behind her.”

“And?” Rick prompted.

“I swear, it was like being hit by lightning. I know how corny that sounds but it’s the damn truth. The rest of the night, I felt like I was playing just for her.”

And getting her out of his mind since then had been next to impossible. She was so different than the others women, with a rare freshness to her. How could he not be so fascinated by her?

“Okay.” Rick nodded. “I get it. So you’re all twisted up about some female you saw in the crowd? That’s not like you.”

“Oh, I
met her
all right.” Marc looked down at his feet then back up at his friend. “She stayed until the end of the last set. And then she came home with me.”

Rick’s jaw dropped. “Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“A little swift even for you, isn’t it?”

Marc pulled his hands out of his pockets and ran his fingers through his hair. “I never expected it. Honest to God. I followed her into the parking lot because I just had to meet her, touch her…kiss her. I was afraid she’d either smack me good or call the cops.”

He was only comfortable discussing this with Rick. Their friendship went back so many years and they knew most of each other’s secrets. He’d never open up this way to the other guys but usually Rick was able to give him perspective.

One corner of Rick’s mouth lifted in a smile. “I’m guessing she didn’t do either of those.”

“She kissed me back.” Marc was still stunned by the whole thing. “Then she came home with me. And Rick? I had the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. Even better than sex.” He paused. “Am I making sense to you?”

“In a strange sort of way. So what’s the problem? Call her. See her again. It’s not like you haven’t had the hots for someone before.” Rick chuckled. “Although this is the first time I’ve ever seen you with your shorts in such a twist about it.”

“It’s not so simple.” Marc raked his fingers through his hair again. “I can’t call her because I don’t know her number. Or her name.”

“What?” Rick stood up from the stool. “Are you shitting me? I might expect something like this from Garrett but not from you. How come you didn’t get her name?”

“Believe it or not, she wouldn’t give it to me.” His voice was laced with simmering frustration. What could Music Lady possibly be hiding? She’d certainly hauled ass out of his house as if her tail were on fire. This was an experience he had no
experience
with.

“That’s not good.” Rick frowned. “She has to be hiding something. Is she married? You never mess with married women, Marc. None of us do. You know that.”

”No.” He shook his head. “I’m sure she’s single. I think….”

“Think what?”

“I think Saturday night is the first time she’s ever done anything like this. Even been to a rock club.
Any
club. And I think she was scared.”

“But obviously willing enough to go home with you and have wild monkey sex,” Rick pointed out.

“Hey.” Marc tensed. “It was a hell of a lot more than bedroom acrobatics.”

Rick got right up in front of him. “Then why didn’t she give you her name? Or her phone number?”

Marc turned away. “It gets worse.” He explained about the episode in the grocery store.

“Fuckin’ A.” Rick’s voice held a stunned tone. “And you still can’t get past her? What’s wrong with your head?”

Marc spread his hands in a helpless gesture. He’d been struggling with his emotions from the moment Music Lady refused to acknowledge him in the grocery store. How could he explain to his friend how he was feeling when he couldn’t even explain it to himself? “What can I tell you?”

He had different objectives for his future than many of his friends. Unlike a lot of musicians he knew, including a couple in his own band, he was pretty selective about the women he took home with him. Especially now that his goal was something permanent. He might start work at nine at night rather than nine in the morning, but he wanted the kind of solid situation for himself like his parents had. A relationship where the people were two halves of a whole and fit together perfectly, no matter what life threw at them.

He’d always expected when he did find his special lady that it would be a slow and steady process to a permanent relationship. Could he build it with Music Lady, connect with her emotionally as well as physically? He sensed the beginning of something special, just after one night. The incident at the grocery store still hurt, but he hoped she’d come back to Aftershock. Explain why she acted the way she did. Let him know if he’d done something wrong. Then maybe they could start over.

If
she came back.

Rick studied him for a moment. Silence stretched out uncomfortably.

“Say something,” Marc said.

“What can I say? You’re acting like a stupid schmuck. Forget her. Get your head out of your ass. You know something big might be happening for us any day now. It’s in the works. We have to be ready. We’ve got a lot of work to do, and this afternoon’s rehearsal was damn near worthless.”

Marc knew his friend was right. “I’m sorry.”

“You need to be more than sorry, Marco Polo.”

He ground his teeth. “I hear you.”

“Go home.” Rick picked up his guitar case. “Focus on the script for the new video we’re doing. We’re going to shoot it this week, and I’ve lined up some folks to take a look at it.”

When the band first got together, Marc discovered writing came as naturally to him as creating and playing music. He’d then become the
de facto
scriptwriter for every video they did. This would be the fifth one they shot, and it would feature a new song. And if things worked out right, it could bring them the big break they’d been working toward for so long.

“Okay.” He picked up his own instrument. “I’ll call you later.”

“You bet you will. I want a progress report. At least we’ll get something out of today.”

***

They were seated at a high pub table in Hot Salsa, their favorite place to meet. The sounds of Happy Hour swirled around them. Emma stirred her drink with the hot pink swizzle stick and stared into the slush of a frozen margarita. No salt.

“The drink isn’t going to change no matter how long you stare at it.” Annie Fletcher’s voice was colored with humor. “Nor is it going to reveal the secrets of the world.”