CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

Finding someone to spend your life with

Is finding someone to share your secrets with...

Good, bad, and ugly.

 

BECK

“Any progress?” Liv asks.

We’re sitting close together at the table. On the opposite side Jack is going through Finn’s laptop, trying to find a playlist with Penny. She seems almost as out of place as I do. Both of us not quite sure what we’re doing here. Nox is manning the grill while talking to his brother. He’s still tense, his shoulders hunched.

“Beck?”

“Sorry, what?” I turn my attention back to my bestie.

“You and Nox? Is everything okay?”

“He still won’t sign the papers,” I say. “Still refuses to let me go.”

“You like that about him, don’t you?” She peers at me. “You’re smiling.”

“Am not.” I scowl, but it’s not real. Still I can’t get comfortable with the warmth inside me when we talk about him.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.” She nudges me with an elbow to the ribs. “You’re two months out from deadline and you’re not making a concerted effort to get him to give up on you. It’s telling.”

“Can you not use that word?” I shiver.

“What? Deadline?” She says it again, slower this time.

“Don’t be a cow,” I tell her.

“Look, I’m on your side. Trust me on that. I just want you to be happy. Even if I have to give you a push.”

“I am happy,” I retort. “I was perfectly content on my own, thank you very much.”

“No you weren’t.” She shakes her head, her eyes soft and sad. “You think you were because you didn’t have to deal with your trauma. That’s all.”

Nox is still talking to Finn, still scowling. He lifts two fingers and says something I can’t make out.

Two months. That’s all we might have. And right now he’s angry with me. Maybe he’s realizing this relationship isn’t worth the fight. The thought sucks the air out of my lungs. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. But I was only trying to understand him.

“I think he might stick around longer,” Liv says. “If you stop trying to push him away.”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Why does it matter so much to you anyway? You realize if we stay together that you’re going to have to take up travelling alone.”

“I’m okay with that,” she says.

“It does seem like it,” I agree. “You keep championing him.”

“Maybe I am.” She smiles, but it’s the way her gaze shifts sideways toward him that makes me wonder whether she’s scheming something.

“You didn’t do anything, did you? You aren’t thinking of doing anything?”

“I would cut him a check in a heartbeat if I thought it would help, but I honestly think you two are managing just fine on your own.”

“A check?” I press my lips together to keep from laughing. Of course she would, and maybe I should ask her about helping out with Casey Records, or making a donation. “I told him about the curse.”

“You did?” She sounds surprised. “Everything?”

“Almost everything,” I amend.

“Did you tell him about you? About the car accident?”

I nod, my knee bouncing. “Just not everything.”

“Oh.” She draws the sound out through her glossy red lips. Her eyes widen, and she draws a circle with her finger on the tabletop. “You really do like him, don’t you? Otherwise you would tell him the whole story. All of it. But you’re worried that will be enough to push him over the edge.”

“I just hate to tell people about it, okay.” I drop my gaze to my arms crossed against my chest. Never mind the fact I haven’t actually talked about it with anyone outside of Liv, and my own family. Telling Nox would be worse. He’ll realize that it’s not just my insecurities and fears. He’ll know that there’s no point in fighting. Everything he said about being masters of our own destiny won’t mean anything. Sometimes fate or destiny or pure reality has other plans for us. “Remember your reaction when I told you? And you’d already known.”

She leans closer so no one else can hear her and gives my arm a squeeze. “We could have lost you. We almost did. It was scary as hell.” One side of her mouth flicks up and then droops as she sighs. “Of course I was going to react. When the doctors told us. When you told me later. I could have lost my best friend. I love you like a sister.”

“I love you too.” I cover her hand with my own.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Nox says, placing a tray of chops and steaks and sausages onto the table.

How much did he hear? My heart smashes against my ribcage. He’s standing beside me, staring like I’ve just casually admitted that I’m the queen of England. And also like the queen is hot and his. Somewhere along the line he got past my defenses, and I don’t know how I’ll go back to life without him in it. “What?”

“Did you just say the L word?”

“Liv is family.” I shrug.

“I think I’ll go talk to Jack.” Liv excuses herself, getting up and joining the others.

Pulling the seat out beside me, he sits down facing me. Covers my knee with his hand. The tension he was carrying earlier is gone. “About before.”

A chair crashes to the concrete at the other end of the table as Penny jumps to her feet and turns wide eyes on Finn. “You...”

Nox stops to twist around. Everyone does while Finn begs for a moment to explain.

Seventy percent. It’s the first thing that pops into my head as she races out. Seventy percent of relationships don’t work out. Finn takes off after her. Doors slam. Most relationships are doomed from the start.

I turn to Nox. I expect to feel doubt, or sadness, or even simply reconciled to the fact, but instead there’s this rush of steadiness.

“Don’t,” he says, cupping my chin with his other hand. “Don’t box us into a number, or a statistic. Don’t work out our chances according to other people. Don’t give up on me.”

I don’t want to. Covering his hand with both of mine, I nod.

“I’m going to head out,” Liv announces from the other end of the table as the front door slams again.

“Think I will too,” Lou agrees. “Dean, do you need a ride?”

Cussing comes from inside the house, but Finn doesn’t reappear.

“I was going to head over to Mayhem after dinner.” Dean snatches a piece of steak from the tray on the table and shrugs. “Might as well go now.”

“That’s where I’m headed.” Lou picks up her bag and hustles toward the back gate with Liv. Dean follows.

“Let me check on Finn.” Nox withdraws his hand from mine. “Then we’ll go too.”

I watch him get up and head inside. The door closes behind him. Jack shuts the laptop, catching my attention.

“Sorry,” he says, climbing to his feet and picking up the meat Nox grilled. “Didn’t know that was going to happen. Probably not the best introduction to our family, is it? And no one got to eat.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Getting up, I pick up the salads Lou brought out to the table, so I can take them inside. Might as well clean up while Nox checks on Finn. “Every family has its moments.”

“That’s true,” he says. “Come on. Let’s fix plates for you guys. You can eat and run. I’ll take some down to Lou and Dean in a little while.” He holds the door open for me to slip through first. “God knows Finn isn’t going to be great company.”

Mayhem is quiet. More of a bookstore today. There’s no band on the roster, though the stage is set up with a microphone stand, a drum kit, and amps. People are scattered through the room. A group of girls in summer dresses are giggling at the other end of the bar. A serious guy with a droopy moustache, a long face, and even longer feet is wading through a Tolkien novel on one of the couches.

Lou pushes one of those not so hideous Casey specials at me. This one is weaker than the first one she made me, and it’s actually not awful.

Nox cradles a beer glass in one hand. “You’re getting used to them.”

“I am. Plus I plan on working on a piece for the blog tonight. I need all the caffeine.”

He smirks at me. “Wore you out, did I?”

“You wish.” I take a sip of my drink.

A couple of young guys in flat caps with their pants hanging too low are crowded into one of the booths, headphones covering their ears. Alone at a table a tall girl with dreadlocks is writing in a spiral-bound notebook. Another girl who reminds me a little of Heidi Klum darts an unfriendly glance in my direction before she walks out. Poor dear probably hasn’t eaten in a million years. I’d be hangry too.

“I’m not the one who needed to take a nap.” Nox turns to face the bar. Rests his elbows on it. “About what happened before we got to Finn’s.”

“I really wasn’t trying to push you.” I swirl the straw through my drink. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Should have left it alone.”

“You’re right,” he says. “I think you’re right.”

“I am?”

“When I stopped playing it was because I needed to. I was wrung out and fucked up. I couldn’t be that guy anymore. I couldn’t handle the price tag that came with being famous. All the people who knew who I was, who glamorized me into something I wasn’t.”

I have no idea what to say to him. I don’t understand, because I’ve never walked in his shoes, but my heart aches for him. I wrap my palm around his bicep and squeeze as though I can convey my feelings through something so simple.

He places his hand over mine, holds it there. “When I got out of rehab I took off. I found the most remote quiet place I could, this little town in the Northern part of Australia, and I went there. It was all desert and sheep stations. Stayed there and threw myself into working an honest job, until I could look in the mirror and not see the guy everyone knew. I got better. Healthier. But I couldn’t change who I am that easily. I came home. Started writing again. Playing. Singing. Just for myself at first. Because I had to. Then I started playing gigs, small places like here.” He glances around Mayhem. “Not much. Just once or twice a month. Found a couple guys to jam with. That was a mistake. They weren’t at the same place I was. More into partying than their music.”

“You slid backwards?”

“No.” He glances at me, his brows raised into his shaggy hair. He shakes his head. “No. But it was a struggle. And I feared it. Would have been easy.” He slicks condensation from the bottom of his glass as it pools onto the bar top. “And then I met Lena. She was there at one of our gigs. Perched on a stool near the bar, drinking soda water. She was like me she said. Recovering. Always recovering. We hit it off.”

“Oranges?” I ask.

“Oranges,” he agrees. “She was... wasn’t what she said she was. Right down to the first lie. She wasn’t like me. She just had a good eye for the type of man I was.”

“What kind of man was that?”

“Persuadable. Couldn’t trust myself.” He glances at me before concentrating on emptying his glass. “She took over. I let her. Didn’t fight it when she suggested I let go of music. That it wasn’t good for us. That it wasn’t good for me and I would never be able to separate my addictions. Couldn’t conquer the doubts that came along with it anyway.”

“I’m so sorry, Nox. I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You’re right, you didn’t know. And I’m glad you said something. I’ve been wandering around for years on the fringes of something I love. Listening to bands play here at Mayhem. Teaching guitar without being willing to pick one up myself. Writing music in my mind because as much as I tell myself to shut it off I can’t shut it out. And all the while I’m letting my own demons run all over me. Letting what Lena told me about being unable to separate music from who I was keep me from even picking up a guitar. So you were right. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to jot down a few lines when the mood strikes or pick up an acoustic every now and again. Not go back to the way it was. Just stop denying something that’s so ingrained in me.”

“Did I just hear you say that you wanted to pick up a guitar again?” Dean leans over Nox’s shoulder, a grin plastered across his face before he yells out to Lou, “Nox wants to play again.”

“Play? Like an instrument?” Lou stops what she’s doing, staring at us with an owl-like expression.

“That’s what I said,” Dean slaps Nox on the back. “He wants to play.”

“How? Why?” she asks, moving up the bar to join us. “I thought—”

“I might have been wrong,” Nox slings his arm around my shoulder. “But I’m not talking about playing in front of crowds. Just for myself.”

“Attention.” As a unit we glance over to where Dean stands behind the microphone on stage. When did he walk away? “We have a real treat tonight. My brother has just decided for the first time in...” his brow pulls tight and he counts on his fingers. “Well, a lot of years, that he’s finally ready to pick up a guitar. So let’s get him on stage.”

“Fuck.” Nox growls under his breath.

“He’s excited. This is a good thing.” Lou reaches across the bar to squeeze his shoulder. “But if you don’t want to do it, don’t.”

Nox glances at me, waits for me to say something. I slip my hand into his. “I’m with you. We can walk out right now if you want. Or I can sit right here and watch you perform. It’s up to you.”

“What do you say, Nox?” Dean asks, waiting for him to make up his mind.

“Fine,” he huffs, but the corners of his mouth lift anyway. Striding to the stage he mounts the steps and moves to join Dean, stopping to pick up the guitar on his way. He lifts the strap over his head and wraps his big hand around the neck.

“What are you going to play?” Dean asks.

“No idea,” Nox replies, taking a seat. He settles the guitar in his lap, plucks lightly at the strings and adjusts the pegs. He does that a couple of times before he lifts his gaze to me. He plays a few chords. Shakes his head. Tries again until he comes up with something he’s happy with while Dean moves the microphone closer. He clears his throat as he weaves chords into a progression. “I’m rusty as old nails, so don’t expect any miracles, but let’s see what I can come up with on the spot.”

He strums a few bars followed by something more complex and begins to hum, an easy smile breaking over his features. “Okay. All right.”

“Come on,” Lou pleads behind me.

Have they all been hoping and waiting for him to realize he can still be happy? Can still have his passions? I want to ask her, but I can’t draw my attention away from him. Especially when he starts to sing, though it’s disjointed and more of a story than a song.

 

“She was a stone cold fox in a white dress,

An angel when my head was a mess,

And I was screaming, yes, yes, yes.

 

Cause she’s got a fetish for what I got.

Fingers that tie her all up in a knot.”

 

He grins as he wiggles his fingers at me, while barely skipping a beat.

 

“Something about oranges

And a cat named Hollander.

If she wants to leave, then I’ll follow her.

Yeah.

 

She was a stone cold fox in a white dress

An angel when my head was a mess,

And I was screaming yes, God, yes.

 

Cause she’s got something that I need,

Maybe one day she’ll come to see,

She’s my stone cold fox in a white dress,

My angel when my head is a mess,

 

And I’ll be screaming yes, yes, yes.

Yeah, I’ll be screaming yes, God, yes

That’s my wifey in the tight white dress”

 

When he finishes he just sits there for a minute, holding the guitar on his lap with his eyes closed. My heart soars across the room to him, my smile is so big. Every fiber in my body wants to rush toward him. So this is what it feels like. This is what happens when attraction turns to something more than a chemical equation. As he puts down the guitar I fly to him. Jump up on the stage and onto his lap. People are watching us. His sister and brother are watching us, and I don’t care at all as I straddle him.

He grins at me as he cups my face between his hands and stares into my eyes. “What did you think?”

“I probably wouldn’t base your come back on that,” Dean says, moving the microphone away from us with a curious expression. “Don’t think it will go over all that well. It was terrible. You need some practice.”

“I loved it,” I whisper.

“That’s a strong word,” Nox says.

“Is it?” I knot my hands in his shirt and lean closer. “I don’t care. What are you going to call it?”

“Angel.”

“I love it,” I say again.

“It needs work,” he says. “A lot of work.”

“You’re amazing,” I tell him. “And I’m not just saying that as your biggest groupie.”

“My groupie?” His grin turns sensual, his gaze filled with heat that shimmers through me.

I bite my lip and nod.

“Well then,” he says striking his mouth against mine. Sparks sizzle from the connection. “I think we best get off the stage.”

He unseats me from his lap and takes my hand, leading me from the stage to the wall of booths at the far end of the room. Opening the door he guides me inside. The minute the door is closed he crowds me against the wall and kisses me hungrily. “You wanna be my groupie, Angel? Wanna push your panties into my pocket and climb me like a big ol’ tree?”

God, do I.

“Here?” People can see through the glass doors. They can see everything that happens in these booths if they look in this direction, but the naughtiness of it has me flooded with arousal. My panties are soaked already. “What about Lou?”

“Hmmm.” His gaze is hot on my chest, and my breasts tighten. He leans in and runs his mouth along my shoulder to my neck. “She’d probably kill one or both of us. She has a temper.”

“We can’t.” I plant my palms on his chest at the same time he grips my hip. God, he’s hard and it does things to me. Makes it hard to be rational. But that girl with the dreadlocks is looking in our direction. This is all kinds of wrong. Even though it feels so good.

“Soon.” He palms my ass. “How about you give me your panties until then? Shove them in my pocket. No one will know except you and me.”

My panties in his pocket? My pussy naked under this skirt for him and only he knows it? I press my lip together and clamp down on the bolt of desire that courses through me while I nod. “How? People will see.”

“No one can see you. You’re hidden. They can only see me.” He gathers up some of my hair and brushes it away from my collarbone so he can press a kiss there. “Push them down and wriggle out of them.”

“Okay.” I hike up my skirt on one side and find the elastic while he nibbles and sucks on my bottom lip. Hooking a finger into it, I pull it down over my hips and thighs until they’re sitting loosely and then wriggle until they fall around my ankles. That’s what people would see if they came too close to the booth now. My panties around my ankles. I can’t believe I’m doing this for him. I can’t believe I want to.

“Good work.” Nox stops kissing me to crouch down in front of me. Over his head, I can see a good portion of the room, but no one is watching us as I lift one foot and then the other for him to take my panties. He bunches them up in his hand and then pushes them into his back pocket as he stands up.

Opening the booth, he ushers me out. My thighs rub against one another, slick with arousal as we go back to the bar and order another drink. Nox stands behind me, so close he’s constantly brushing up against me. He whispers in my ear all the things he plans to do to me as soon as we’re alone, until I’m struggling not to pant with how needy I am. Until I can’t bear another minute of waiting. It’s delicious agony. Being married to him is the sweetest torture. Falling for him is nothing like what I thought it would be.

Lightning forks, slamming into the valley, blindingly bright. It lights up the sky as clear as daylight for a few seconds. My hair whips around my face, gets in my mouth and my eyes. I grasp as much of it in my fist as I can while concentrating on moving between the tree lines. Giant shadows loom across the path while thunder rumbles on and on and on like a drum roll. Another bolt snakes through the sky and the tree in front of me sizzles and bows like it’s made of rubber. Bark cracks and the tree starts to fall over me…

Clutching my chest, I bolt up in bed. Nox’s weight is half spread over me. My pulse is still racing while I shove my damp hair back from my face. What the hell was that? Sliding to the edge of the bed, I grope around in the dark for Nox’s shirt and pull it on. It’s so hot and stuffy in the bedroom. The air seems to weigh a ton.

Hollander lifts his head from where it was resting on Nox’s calf and blinks at me. Putting my finger to my lips, I signal him to be quiet. He yawns and stretches his giant front paws out in front of him before settling back into sleep. Getting up, I tiptoe out of the bedroom and slowly pull the door shut.

I’ve never been a cat person or a dog person. I’ve never wanted to own a gold fish or a turtle or a ferret. I move around too much. I live in hotel rooms. Getting attached to anything doesn’t make sense. But Hollander is different. Hollander doesn’t give me an option but to care about him. Just like Nox doesn’t give me an option but to want what we could be.

Hugging myself, I stare out the huge glass windows over the valley below. We never closed the blinds tonight. Too busy shedding our clothes and getting as close as possible. A breeze rustles the leaves of a couple nearby trees. Doesn’t stir the heat inside the cabin so I open one of the windows. Outside smells densely of fresh grass and foliage. Rain is coming. Or a storm. Like what woke me up.

I’d Googled orange trees after Nox told me about them. Searched out everything I could find on their symbolism. There wasn’t much. Most of it was along the lines of purity and wisdom, or fruitfulness. I’d come across a little bit about relationships that fit with what he’d told me. It was mostly filed under dreams. I’d ended up reading every entry I could find. But dreams don’t mean anything. Just like a tree is a symbol of a tree, a dream about a tree is still just a dream. So what if a falling orange tree is a symbol of death.

I mentally give myself an eye roll. Look who’s being dramatic. I rub at the goose bumps dotting my arms. Of course I’m dreaming about them after reading as much as I did. No matter how hard I try to follow the trail of common sense, doubt creeps in, and after the conversation with Liv earlier... It’s on my mind.

The first rumble shakes the whole house.

Lightning snaps through the sky like the flash of a camera, and I stumble as I jump back from the window. The storm is right on top of us. Another fork twists through the darkness, followed by the loudest crack. The windows rattle as fat drops pound them. They splash my fevered skin, bringing relief from the heat, as I shut the window. The floor vibrates under my bare feet. More thunder and lightning follow.

“Can’t sleep?” Nox asks, coming up behind me.

I shake my head. “It was too hot. And I was dreaming about a thunderstorm.”

About orange trees falling over. About death and dying and loss. And the curse that now more than ever I don’t want to believe in.

Because I have feelings. Very strong feelings about this husband of mine. Emotions that will shatter me if we have to part. Even that seems like too much of a loss.

“Looks like we got one.” He slips an arm around my waist, and I lean against his chest while we watch the show outside.