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It was 4:30 in the morning. He must be out of his ever-loving mind.
What is this girl doing to me?
He smiled. Whatever it was, it was good. It was 4:30 in the friggin’ morning, and he was more alive than he had been in a long time. Usually he either dreaded his morning run, or plodded through it without thinking. But looking forward to it? Definitely not his thing.
Until now.
He kicked his foot up on the dresser and tightened his shoe laces by—yes, he checked it—moonlight. He smiled and took the stairs two at a time, while still trying to remain relatively quiet and not wake up his mom or Edward.
When he entered the white cobblestone courtyard, he saw her. She had her foot hiked up on the trunk of her car and was extended over it. He came to an abrupt halt, taking a breath and simply admiring the view. The moonlight outlined her sensuous curves. Folding over her leg, she grabbed her toes and laid out until she removed the sliver of light between her upper and lower body. She had the grace and strength of a dancer at the bar. Like most of her clothing, her outfit had a twist on the normal athletic wear. The bright pink, sleeveless top ended in a wide strip that wrapped around her several times and tied off in the back. The leggings had cutouts forming an intricate, flowing design down her calves. After a few moments, she straightened, twisted her hips so she was facing the opposite direction, bent her knee, and brought her suspended foot to the ground, all without making a sound. She was like a ninja, and she fascinated him.
The girl has to take yoga to be that limber.
As if she could hear his thoughts, she suddenly lifted her arms above her head, craning her neck to gaze upward like she was some moon-worshiping goddess. From his angle, he could see her face bathed in light. Her expression was serious. She stretched first one side up, then the other, rotating her wrists with a beautiful fluidity. He moved forward again, drawn by her like he was caught in a net being slowly reeled in by a fisherman. Some of the light making her shimmer came from a lamp on the columns beside the massive electronic gates securing the property. She arched her back slowly, and he froze. She came back farther... and farther...until her hands were nearly to the ground and she did a little hop, making only the tiniest sound as her hands touched the stone and she kicked her legs in the air. Colt must have made a noise because her gaze snapped to him, and she made a slight squeak as she tumbled to the ground.
“Holy shit.” He ran up and helped her to stand. “Are you all right?”
She chuckled. “Yes. I’m fine.” She brushed at her pants then studied him and straightened. “How long have you been standing there?”
He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to him. “Long enough to get seriously turned on.”
She laughed, but it was muffled by his lips covering hers. “Stop.” She leaned away, trying to writhe out of his hold, so he kissed her neck. “Colt, stop,” she said again, but it had a breathy quality to it. She moaned. “St—don’t stop. Don’t stop.” She brought her lips to his and took control for several seconds before pulling back again. “We have to stop. What about discretion? Your mom and Edward are here.”
His searching hands ceased their movement. “Uhh. You’re killing me.”
She panted, disengaging herself completely and stumbling back a few feet. “Well, I didn’t mean to.”
He placed his hands on the trunk of her car, bending at the waist and catching his breath. He twisted his head to peer at her from under his arm. “You’re wicked.”
She clasped her hands behind her back and swiped her foot in the loose rock and dirt at her toes. “Am I?”
He roared and lunged at her, and she took off running. He caught up with her, lifted her and swung her around.
She laughed. “Shh. We have to be quiet. We’ll wake the neighborhood.”
“You’re the one squealing.” He set her on her feet. She turned and he took her hand, his cheeks lifting. “Come on.” They took off, circling the large meadow to the right of the courtyard.
It was the best run of his life.
* * *
WHEN THEY MADE IT BACK to the cobblestone area on their last lap, the sun was up, but the full force of the day’s heat was yet a ways off. Mel pulled her heel in to her butt.
“What are you doing?”
She blinked. “A cool down?”
“That’s a thing?”
She stared at him. “Are you serious?”
He brought the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his brow and her gaze was drawn to his abs. And glued there. She tore it away with effort, spinning around to focus in on the stables.
“Oh, Colt. Do you think it’d be okay if we went up and said hi to Sugarloaf?”
He raised his brows. “I’m taking it that’s a horse and not one of our groomsmen?”
“Of course.” They made their way in that direction. “Ty would have never hired anyone named Sugarloaf,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Of course.” He whirled and walked backwards, snagging a leaf from a low-lying branch. He grinned. “Race?”
Before she could respond, he took off.
“What? I thought we were finished running.”
“Nope,” he called back, having already secured a large lead. He spun around. “Come on.” He let her catch up, then put on a burst of speed and was holding the door for her when she got to the stables, huffing and puffing.
“Showoff,” she got out between breaths.
A loud whinny greeted their ears. Mel ran over to the stall where Sugarloaf was. “Hey. Hey. Who’s my baby?” she cooed as she pet the horse’s neck. It nickered. “Did you miss me? Huh?”
Colt followed her and leaned with his back against the stall door, crossing his arms. “It seems you two have a relationship. Should I be jealous?”
“That I have a relationship with a horse, or that the horse has a relationship with me?”
Sugarloaf shoved Colt with his nose. “Whoa.”
“Be nice,” Mel scolded.
“Me?”
“Not you, you doofus. Sugarloaf.” She kissed the offending nose and continued to converse with her.
“Your negative reinforcement needs some work.” He settled against the door again.
After a few minutes, she glanced over and caught him studying her. “What?”
“Nothing.” He dropped his gaze.
“Colt.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s nothing.” His smile seemed forced.
She placed a hand on his arm. “What?”
He slid his shoe through the loose straw on the floor. “You and Dad ride a lot together?”
She looked away from him. “I...I don’t know.” She shrugged, uncomfortable with the line of questioning. “We’d come out sometimes after work.”
He crossed his arms. “But often enough you and Sugarloaf here—” As if she understood she was the subject of conversation, the horse faced Colt and snorted. “—are tight.”
She fought to keep her voice steady. “Are you implying something, Colt?” If she hadn’t seen he was more hurt than accusatory, she probably would have ripped him to shreds.
“I—” He stopped, watching her for a second before lowering his gaze, and again messing with the straw. “I guess I just don’t understand. You were his administrative assistant... I want to understand.”
She whirled around, some of her anger seeping into her words. “He was like a father figure to me.” She waved her arms around. “Maybe...I don’t know...he felt responsible or something for me, since he took me away from my family. Although I came of my own free will. And it wasn’t much of a family.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Yes, we were close. We...needed each other. He needed me to—” The corners of her lips lifted. “—keep his ego in check. Everyone pandered to him, and he said he hated it. But he really loved it.”
Colt chuckled at that.
“I needed him to get away from a dead-end job, in a dead-end town and a life that made me dead inside. A fragment more every day.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but she talked over him.
“I don’t know if he saw something in me, or if he felt sorry for me.” She wrinkled her brow. “Maybe it was a little of both. But he taught me, and I was a fast learner. He grew to appreciate the things I could do for his company and sought out my advice if he was confused about something. Which, granted, was rare.” Her voice warmed. “But when I could help him...” She rolled a shoulder. “I don’t know. It made me feel good about myself.” She glanced at Colt. “Annnd, I’m rambling.”
He took her arms. “No.” He bent forward and kissed her forehead. “Anyway, I like your rambling.”
She wrapped her arms around him and let all of her anger at him slip away.
“What’s that?”
She pulled back. He was staring at something behind her. She rotated to see what had caught his attention. In a dark corner of the stables, a large object was protected by a beige canvas tarp. “I’m not sure.”
She watched as he ambled over and lifted an edge of the cover. He hesitated.
“Well, what is it?”
He moved backward pulling the tarp with him and gathering it in his arms.
Mel’s chest tightened. She forgot all about Sugarloaf, much to the horse’s dismay, and moved in Colt’s direction as if in a trance.
Colt ran a hand over the hood reverently. “The old man’s truck.”
“He loved that thing.”
“Yeah. He did.” He turned. “Hey.” He crossed to her. “What’s wrong?”
Tears clung to her face. She didn’t even realize she was crying. She swiped at them.
“Nothing.” When he frowned in response she added, “I don’t think you’d understand. You’d misread what—”
He took her in his arms. “Not understand you’re mourning my dad?”
She started to explain but he beat her to the punch.
“In a completely platonic way.”
She laid her cheek back on his chest and they stood quietly. “I’m not usually this much of a crier.”
“I get it. It’s hard.” They stared at the truck. “It comes and goes. One minute, it seems like a regular day, then, you get a reminder like this and it’s a punch in the gut. Sometimes it hits out of the blue.”
She nodded.
He tensed, stretching his neck and peering inside the truck. “I’ll be damned.”
He moved to open the vehicle’s door, and she watched. He climbed in the cab and slid something off the dash.
“It’s one of my albums.” He held a CD case. He looked at her with an incredulous expression. “He had one of my albums.”
“I told you.”
He began to climb out, but kicked something at his feet. He picked up another CD case. He finished exiting the vehicle, then searched the floor of the cab. “A whole bunch of them are under his seat.”
She stepped up. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but...there was a point in time when your mom became very jealous of the relationship you and your dad had. Edward, too, I think. She...” Mel watched his reaction. “She threatened to take you away, Colt. To divorce Ty and sue for custody if he didn’t...I don’t know...put some distance between the two of you.”
He stared at the CDs in his hands.
She touched his arm. “He loved you. More than he could say.”
He was quiet for a moment then rubbed a hand over his chin. “Shit.” His voice was choked. He peered at her. “You have no idea how mind-blowing this is for me. I mean...damn.”
She rubbed his arm.
“You wanna...? Let’s sit for a minute.” He shifted the CDs to one hand and put his arm around her shoulders. They circled the truck to the rear, and he opened the tailgate. He had no trouble sitting on it, but had to help Melody up. He examined the CDs again.
Mel pointed to the “Hell, Yeah,” CD. “This is your best.”
He turned to her and smiled. “You think so?”
She nodded.
“I, uhh, didn’t know you listened to my music.”
“Well, don’t let it go to your head, but I’m really a huge fan. I have everything you ever recorded. Even some that didn’t make an album.” He stared. “A benefit to working in the building where you record.”
He squinted. “You...you never acted like a fan.”
“What? You mean get all goo-goo over you? Not my thing.” She swung her legs, examining her shoes. “In fact, I didn’t even know who your dad was when he came into the diner.”
“Really?” he said doubtfully.
“Well, I knew some of his music. But, I’m a rock fan.”
Sugarloaf whinnied.
“Oh, you cool it. I’ll come back in a sec.”
“Melody, can I ask you a question?”
“Does it have to do with me and your dad?”
“Not this time.” He set the CDs to the side then addressed her. “Why do you wear glasses?”
This was totally unexpected. “Why do I wear glasses? Well, why do most people wear glasses? I have bad vision.”
He crossed his arms. “No, you don’t. I’ve seen you read things without your glasses plenty of times and it’s not a struggle for you.”
She kicked faster.
“So why wear them?”
She sighed finally and shrugged. “I came to work for R&J, and I guess it was part of my costume. To make myself seem smart. And eventually I guess you sort of buy into your image. Become the person you created. Now that’s all anyone sees me as. Melody Hawkins, all business, all the time.”
He rubbed her leg. “Kind of like the rock star image my publicist tries to market.” He studied her. “I hide behind my guitar like you hide behind your glasses.”
“So, you’re not really a hard drinking manwhore?”
He grinned. “I’m not saying that. But I didn’t start out that way. Maybe I bought into my image like you bought into yours.”
They thought about this quietly.
“I can’t believe you figured that out. People who’ve known me for years still don’t know.”
“It’s hard to miss when you can’t take your eyes off someone,” he said softly.
Her heart skipped a beat.
He searched her face then brought his hands to her temples, and she froze.
Her pulse rocketed. “What are you doing?”
He removed her glasses and set them on the tailgate. “You don’t have to hide behind your glasses for me. You don’t have to hide behind anything with me.” He bent in and brushed his lips over hers before kissing her.
A moan of pleasure escaped her.
Sugarloaf stamped and let out a loud huff, startling them. They glanced in her direction.
“I think someone doesn’t like me kissing you.”
Mel turned Colt back to her. “But I like you kissing me.” They continued until Sugarloaf again scraped the ground and tossed her head with a piercing neigh.
“She’ll keep doing that until I give her a sugar cube. Let me say goodbye, and we’ll get out of here.” They hopped down.
Mel was glad they still kept the treats in the same cubbyhole in the tack room. She handed Colt two. “Why don’t you give them to her? She may warm up to you then. I’ll step outside.”
She squinted in the brighter light, stepping forward to survey the courtyard. She moved in a slow circle as she envisioned what the place would look like during the gala. She mentally supplied a dining tent...round tables, buffet line where the caterer’s chefs would do their thing to wow the guests...black or white linens? Black. Pleated around the tables. She’d want some high tops in the beverage area, with their tablecloths twisted and secured to the base...
The door slid open behind her, interrupting her thoughts. Colt peered around the courtyard, too. “What are you thinking?”
“Picture this.” She extended her arms toward an area near the house, her palms out. She spread them out dramatically, as if pulling away a curtain for him to see. “We’ll set up the food line there. The stage to the left. And, over there we’ll have...” She stopped. “Your mom knows you’re doing this right?”
“Uhh...she will.”
A panic she could taste on her tongue seeped into her mental image, blurring the edges and spreading inward. “Colt. If I have to find a new venue on this short of notice...”
“Don’t worry. She’ll be cool with it.”
Her face fell.
He has no idea how much work is involved in this.
“She’ll want to have the grounds crew make preparations. I mean, what if she’s already planning something here that evening? She might—”
Colt took her arms and bent, peering into her eyes.
“I’ll talk to her.” Before she could say anything, he added, “Today.”
She took a deep breath and nodded.
I hope you know what you’re doing, Colt.
He nudged her shoulder with his. “Let’s go in and get changed before the caterers get here.”