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DUKE HADN’T TOLD Sage where they were spending the evening. As he drove away from Susan’s house, he looked like he was enjoying his little secret. She enjoyed this relaxed side of him.
As they toured through Willow Valley, this time Sage had the opportunity to enjoy the view. She liked the small and quaint feeling of the town and each charming house they passed reminded her of Susan’s. The flower pots, street lights and small shops along the water were the exact description of what a small town should be.
Duke parked beside a bar that had their open sign turned off. “We’re here,” he said, unbuckling.
“Where’s here?”
He grinned. “Buck’s.”
When he hopped out, she looked back at the bar. The wooden sign above the door read, “Bucky’s Bar” and to the side was a fenced-in patio area which was painted pink and turquoise.
Duke opened the door and helped her climb out in her black high heels. She looked at her grey, off-the-shoulder, long sleeves dress with a ruched waistline and his designer suit. They were totally overdressed for a local bar with festively carved tiki-adorned archway. He held her hand as they walked to the door.
“I think they’re closed,” she said.
He pulled a key out of his jacket. “They are. I rented the whole place just for us.”
“Oh.” Was now the time to tell him she didn’t drink? It was part of her recovery.
He stuck the key in the lock and the door popped open. He stepped aside, holding the door. “After you.”
She’d been expecting the sort of party place for tourists to stay up until the early hours of morning, she hadn’t expected the candlelit room with strings of lights draped along the ceiling.
“It might not be fancy, but it’s only us, and everything we need to enjoy ourselves.” He lifted her hand and pointed around the room with it. “A pool table, darts, and even a jukebox.” He kissed her hand when a clambering sound came from the kitchen. “And Buck is here. He’s cooking supper for us.”
Sage smiled, not sure what she’d expected tonight, but knowing it hadn’t been this, but not wanting to be anywhere else in the world with anyone else.
“What should we do first?” She set her clutch on a nearby table.
“Drinks,” he said, and walked to a table with two wine glasses and a bottle of wine.
“Duke ...”
He poured her a glass and handed it to her.
“I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Taste it.” He sipped his drink and she sipped hers, her eyes never leaving his. A fruity, non-alcoholic liquid spilled on her taste buds.
“I know sweet Sage.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Before we eat, I’d like to show you something.”
Again, her hand was in his, and she loved twining her fingers in his. He passed the pool table, the darts and even the jukebox as they walked up the stairs on one side of the band stage. He left her in the middle of the stage and pulled a stool from the edge.
“Sit,” he said, and when she did, he positioned a microphone stand beside her.
“What are you doing?”
Bent down in front of her on one knee, he played with buttons on the microphone. “We’re going to do the one thing your dad wouldn’t do with you.”
“Sing? No.” She hadn’t sang since she decided her father was dead to her and she wasn’t about to start now. She started to stand and Duke caught her, keeping her in her seat.
“Don’t run from this.” He kissed her nose before he stood and grabbed another stool and guitar and then sat beside her.
“What are you doing with that?” She eyed the acoustic guitar.
He sat down and impressed her as he strummed his fingers over the strings. “I’m going to play and you’re going to sing.”
“Duke, I haven’t sung in years.”
He chuckled, his attention on tuning the guitar. “You sing every time you’re in the shower.” He looked up with a grin. “Besides, it’s just you and me here and I love your voice. As long as you don’t mind a little sloppy guitarist.”
She had to admit, she was curious to hear him play. “Okay. What are you playing?”
“How about One Blank Step’?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Man, you have it bad for Dean.”
He shrugged. “I read somewhere in an interview once where he said he wrote that song with his best friend when they decided to take the next step in his career. Your mom’s name might not have been on the label, but if you listen closely to the words, whose voice do you hear?”
Without letting her reply, his fingers impressively stroked the familiar tune. He played the intro, humming along with the guitar. When the time came for her to sing, she couldn’t.
He looked at her and played the last section again, giving her an encouraging nod to jump in when she was ready. It took three more tries before she let her father’s words pass by her lips. Her voice came out cracked and quiet, but the microphone amplified her sound. Her eyes didn’t leave Duke’s caring eyes. She listened to Duke’s suggestion and actually listened to the lyrics. He’d been right. She could hear her mother’s words, her outlook on life, her approach and positivity of taking the next steps in life when you didn’t know what was waiting around the corner. Much like the steps she and Duke were taking.
When the song finished, she said, “I didn’t know you played guitar.”
“My mom loved music and dancing. She taught me to play and when my dad wasn’t home, we’d make our own music and my sister would dance around the house.”
“You’re very good.”
“I’m not Dean good.”
She reached across and touched his knee. “You’re better than Dean good, you’re Duke good and that’s way more impressive and inspiring. Want to do another song?”
He strummed the strings and they moved away from her father’s music.
***
“NO WAIT!” SAGE CRIED out in a fit of laughter that Duke could listen to forever. “Do it again.”
“Woman, we are moving on.” He looked back up at the television screen on the back of the stage for the next dance move, but Sage pulled his arm.
“No. Do the floss again.” Her cheeks lit up a bright red color, some from practising the moves on the screen, but mostly from laughing.
“You do the floss again,” he said.
“Together.” She moved in front of him. “Ready?” She waited for his reluctant nod. “Okay, on three. One, two, three.” He let her floss alone and she squealed her disappointment, playfully slapping his chest. “Jerk.”
“I’m out of here,” Buck walked on the stage and across their screen. “I’ve cleaned up the kitchen and left out a tray of snacks for you.”
Sage wrapped her arm around Duke’s waist and leaned into him. “Thanks again for supper, Buck. It was delicious.”
“For you, sweetheart, anytime.” He winked at her as he ducked into the DJ’s glass paneled room which overlooked the stage and dance floor. “But let me tell you.” His voice echoed over the speaker. “This dance lesson you’re watching belongs to the community for when the old cronies around town come in Sunday mornings. You two need something romantic. Something with pizzazz.”
Sage tilted her head up to Duke and mouthed the word “pizzazz” with a smile he wanted to kiss.
“You need something to put you in the mood so you don’t waste that room you reserved.”
“You reserved a room here?” she whispered to Duke.
“With a pull out sofa, so don’t feel pressured. I don’t want to sleep on that small bunk again. It’s not a fancy hotel, but it’s nice.”
A slow tune filtered through the radio before Buck slipped out the restaurant’s back door with a little wave.
Duke took Sage’s hand, first giving her a little spin before pulling her flush against his body and heating a wild fire between them. She fit perfectly, molded to his body like she was meant to be there. They slowly swayed on the dance floor. When one song ended, another started, and even though they were all slow songs, sometimes Sage would get a little wild and dance off on her own. She’d even taken off her high heels. Duke found himself mesmerized as he watched her lucid body move.
She stopped in front of him and ran her finger down his front. “When do I get to see this room?”
“Whenever you want.”
“How about right now? Maybe we can raid the fridge for some dessert to take up.”
He picked up her shoes, his jacket and collected their overnight bags before they snuck into the kitchen. Buck had left a basket of fresh strawberries on the counter beside a can of whipped cream.
Sage bit into a strawberry. “I like the way this man thinks,” she said, licking her full lips.
Duke carried the dessert as he led her to the back doorway and up the stairs to the room he’d rented.
Inside, Sage found the record player and flipped through the LP titles.
Duke dropped their bags by the front door and untied his shoes. He set the strawberries and whipped cream on the counter and found Sage again moving with the music.
She caught him staring and laughed. “I love music. I get it from Dean, but I haven’t danced or really listened to music in so long. Maybe because it reminded me of him.”
“How are you handling his death?”
She stopped moving. “I don’t feel anything. I know it sounds heartless, but I had to stop caring about him when I moved on. I know he was my dad, but I think it was harder when I was trying to get his attention. Like I felt sad all the times he rejected me, that now, I don’t feel anything.”
She looked ashamed of something she shouldn’t.
“It will affect my mom, even if she claims it doesn’t. He was her person and I don’t really think she ever moved on.”
That was unfortunate for Celeste.
“No more about my mom and Dean. Come dance with me.”
***
THEY DANCED FOR WHAT felt like hours. Their bodies swayed together in perfect unison.
When he finally kissed her, she felt lost in him.
“It’s always been quick.” He gently kissed her mouth. “Secretive.” He nibbled on her chin. “Tonight—” He kissed her throat, sprinkling slow, meaningful kisses that trailed down her neck. “I want to kiss every part of your body.” His lips charged heated desire across her bare shoulders. He spun her around and pulled her back against his front and whispered in her ear, “I want to take my time and love every part of you.”
He nibbled on her earlobe before continuing a path of more kisses down her neck. She moaned and arched against him as his hands slid around her front and cupped her breasts. His hands moved down her middle and over her sides. He unzipped the back of her dress and let it pool to her feet on the floor. Running his hands down her arms, he laced his fingers with hers and rested his chin on her shoulder.
“I’ve never felt more complete than when I’m with you,” he said.
She turned, draping one arm over his shoulder and standing on her tiptoes. Her loving smile matched how he felt. “Me too.” She gently kissed his lips, slowly, loving, a way they’d never made love before. He wasn’t working for her best friend, they weren’t sneaking away to a closet at a party, or slipping into a bathroom during a movie, or creeping around the halls while Bowie had been sleeping. Tonight, it was only the two of them and their time was limitless.