A Captivating Conundrum (12 page)

He quieted for a moment, probably hearing the odd tone in my voice. "She in the city with ya?"

"No, I'm actually in Connecticut…at her house."

He laughed. "You're a fast mover."

I sighed. "It's not like that."

"Yeah, right," he chuckled. "You wonder why we rag on you about stuff. Awesome career, chicks screaming, hot girls onstage and off…seriously, you really blow."

I curled my hand into a fist. "Stop talking, this is serious. I think I really like this lady. I mean…
really
like."

The voice quieted at the other end of the phone. "You've only been gone two days, and you're not exactly the overnight romance guy, you know?"

I nodded. He was right; the whole lothario thing was not my deal.

"Well, what's she like?"

The mocking 'homeboy' tone disappeared from Chance's voice. 

I paced the room. "Her name's Beth. She is so smart, guy, I can't even tell you. It's like she knows everything…even sports, if you can believe it. She's funny—sarcastic, but not mean, you know? And everyone around her seems to either love her, wants to protect her, or both. She comes from this super cool family, she loves kids…"

"Can she cook?"

I laughed, knowing that trait would most likely make her absolutely perfect, seeing as that I loved to cook. "I don't know about that yet. The only thing I've ever seen her put in her mouth is coffee."

"Well, she's a writer, after all. Don't those guys sit up in front of computers all night long? I would think she lives on coffee."

I breathed out. "Probably."

"And she's not boring? You get bored fast, man."

"Not even close. Every time she opens her mouth it's like a brand new person comes out."

Chance cleared his throat, trying to bring me back to reality. "You haven't been there long, dude. Once you get to know her she may be…flawed."

"That's true. But she's interesting, you know? I feel like I could keep talking to her for the next fifty years and still not even scratch the surface of what she's all about."

I heard the intake of breath. "Uh, oh."

"What?"

"You got it." Chance began to laugh. "You got it bad. You aren't concentrating on her looks at all. I gotta' get Darren in on this call, man."

And people say female's gossip?
"Don't call him! At least not until I'm off the line."

"Alright, alright," he sighed. "Can I ask just one question?"

I rolled my eyes. "Go ahead, like I don't know what this is gonna' be."

He chuckled. "She hot?"

I took a deep breath and looked at my closed door, imagining what lay… "Beyond," I whispered.

"Guy, we've got the hottest women in the world here, and on the beach they're practically naked. You know that."

"Yeah, I know that. But this is one of those gifts that you really want to unwrap, you know?" I was completely serious.

"Sounds bitchin.'"

"…she is." I wondered if Beth was even going to allow me to stay in the morning. If it were me, I probably would've thrown our asses to the curb last night and told us to enjoy our drive back to the city.

"You'll be cool, you always are," Chance said, obviously feeling my fear through the phone line.

"But I'm focusing on the career. You know I can't get entangled with this stuff right now."

He sighed. "Then walk away. Go back to New York, do the charity thing, then get your ass back home. No worries, right?"

I sighed deeply; I already knew the answer to that. "I don't think I can."

"Huh," Chance replied. "Well, good luck then. Oh, by the way?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you're screwed." 

"Thanks a lot."

"Keep us informed!" Chance hung up, most likely on his way to call Darren and give him the news that I was completely and utterly in trouble.

~***~

As I ran by the old man in the boat he lifted up his hand and waved. Waving back, I offered a smile and wondered if I had, in fact, found Paradise.

Screwed in Paradise
. Great title for a song. I started humming a few bars to see if it could be a solid gold hit, and kept on running.

Nine

~ Hers ~

I slammed the door so hard against his wall that the pictures practically jumped off their hooks. 

Bobby snapped up in bed like he was looking for an angry gunman. When he saw me, he just groaned and fell back on the pillow. "Jesus, Beth! Will you keep it down? You have guests, you know."

"Yes," I marched in, kicking the door closed behind me. "That's right. And
why
do I have guests?"

He squealed like a sick baby who wanted nothing more than to be left alone. "Okay, get it over with." 

"You suck."

He opened one eye and stared up at me. "That's it?"  His gaze focused on the coffee cups in my hand. "Are you going to burn me now?"

I offered an evil grin as I lifted one cup to my lips. "And waste good coffee? Are you high?"

Placing the other mug on the bedside table, I walked to the corner and threw myself down on the window seat. "Why did you invite them to stay here?"

Bobby mumbled into his pillow, "For god's sake, they were standing there, it was dark and there's no place to stay here in 'Nowhereville. I certainly didn't want them to have to drive all the way back to the city, did you?"

Propping up the pillows behind him, Bobby took the extra mug. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I tried to find some rat poison to flavor it with but we're all out."

Rolling his eyes, swallowing way too soon and burning his throat, Bobby's eyes grew wide.

"See? Fate has punished you," I said, with a smile.

"Look. I already told Chris that if you woke up pissed off I would drive them back myself. Alright? They'll be out of your glorious hair very soon."

I looked out the window as I heard footsteps crunching on the gravel below. As Matthew McKenna appeared over the rise, sweat pouring off his brow, I gasped. Apparently a wild animal had met him in the forest and torn his shirt off exposing my eyes to one of the most ripped bodies I'd ever seen. Running up the driveway, he headed into the house. I could hear him grow quiet as he came up the stairs.

I stared at Bobby. "No. They can stay. But just remember you totally SUCK and you totally owe me BIG!" I shook my finger at him. "The stuff I do for you!"

Bobby produced a sheepish grin. "Thank you, Mom." 

"This better be love, or I'm cutting something off that you may need one of these days."

Taking one last look at the scenery, which now seemed completely barren even though the rose bushes were stunning, I sighed. "I used to think those erotic romance writers were seriously moronic. I mean, who even
wants
a heaving sheath? Sounds way too painful. But now…I guess I can see their point."

"Huh?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Go back to bed, you little shit."

Bobby smiled and began to rearrange his pillows. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Seven."

"Seven in the
morning
? Are you nuts? I don't get up until noon when we're not working." His eyes were wide and angry.

"Just think of this as a valuable life lesson learned." I threw my most evil smile over my shoulder and slammed the door behind me.

~***~

As I ventured down the stairs, I tried to ignore the sound of running water coming from one of the showers. Shaking the image from my mind, I tried to forget that right now the stunning man was cleaning off the sweat of his hard workout. His hands were running over that chest, soaping everything…the cool water was caressing…

"Knock it off!" I yelled at myself.

Walking into the kitchen was always a fun moment for me. It had that appeal the other half of me liked. What other half? Well, I see myself as two halves: One was created by the real world. That's the complete and utter geek. Oh, yes, I am one. It is the part that loves 80s Heavy Metal, leather jackets, heeled boots and owns a kickass bitchy temper that I like to use every once in a while just to keep it fresh. Then, there was this 'homey' side. This was the room we'd all congregated in once upon a time, for all Thanksgivings, family events and Sunday afternoons. This was where Grandma would set a table filled with the most scrumptious meals I'd ever witnessed in my life.

The woman had been so cute. On the outside you would peg her as the sweet grandma figure—gray hair, kind smile, and loving attitude. But this woman had spirit to spare. I remember how when dessert would appear she'd hold up a knife that put even serial killers to shame, and waved in the air screaming out, "Who wants pie!" in a voice that sounded a great deal like an ice road trucker on speed. 

I always felt her around me when I was in this room; I think she has the ability to hug from a million miles away. 

Taking out the frying pans and everything I would need to feed an unexpected houseful of four, I began to sing her favorite song as I went about putting together the most amazing pancakes on the face of the earth because they were her recipe.

When the batter was ready and the song came to an end, I whispered the last line through the open window, out to the garden where Grandma's ashes lay, making sure to remind her that I hadn't forgotten the beauty of our song, or the pride she took in her kitchen. She always wanted it kept neat and tidy—cleaning as you go—which is exactly what I did.

The unexpected clapping was what sent the bowl of batter crashing to the floor. 

~ His ~

The run was exhilarating, and after the power shower that supplied scalding hot water, my muscles felt like they'd grown younger by ten years.

When I first heard the voice, I thought it was an angel, so I began to wonder if I'd actually had a heart attack while on my run and was sitting in some driveway being given mouth-to-mouth by the old fisherman.

But when I came around the corner searching for the source of the beautiful notes, my breath caught in my throat once more. Against the explicit orders I gave to myself, my eyes traveled down her form, taking in the perfect figure that I thought only came with lots of pills and constant workouts. The black shorts and top she was wearing fit perfectly, showing every single curve as she moved in time with the music in her head. The curve of her neck was graceful when she flipped the dark auburn waves to one side; the lightly tanned skin and the delicate earlobe looked perfect to nibble on. I imagined my hands encircling her waist and massaging the soft skin with my tongue.

The song stopped, pulling me out of the trance I sincerely wanted to stay in, relishing the thought of what I could massage next. 

Walking to the chair I quickly sat down, trying to cover the one part of me that was attempting to say 'good morning' to the beauty in my midst. I began to clap. As Beth turned around in surprise, she knocked the bowl to the floor.