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Authors: Victoria Danann

A Season in Gemini, Intro (7 page)

BOOK: A Season in Gemini, Intro
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Brant hesitated. He was fast coming to the conclusion that he wanted to keep this girl. Marks that branded her as his would be a nice bonus.

He pulled away and looked at her. “Leave all the marks you want. I’ll wear ‘em proudly.”

The look on her face told him he was going to destroy the mood, but he knew a couple of ways to get back on track. He’d joked about high school girls getting in his pants, but the truth was that he’d never had any trouble in that department. Women liked him. Maybe it was his looks. Maybe it was an attitude. He’d never cared one way or the other, but he found himself wondering if it would be possible to get Garland St. Germaine interested in a permanent kind of way.

 

They spent the rest of the afternoon in bed. Exploring. Experimenting.


You hungry?” Brant asked. They were lying on their sides facing each other.


I’m in an orgasmic stupor. Couldn’t begin to tell you if I’m hungry or not.”

He chuckled. “It’s dark out.”

She sat up and looked out the window a few feet from the foot of the bed. Some of the lights of Austin twinkled back at her. “Wow, Brant. This is gorgeous.”

He ran the back of his hand down the curve of her side. “Not nearly as gorgeous as this.”


It’s too late to sweet talk me. You already got what you wanted.”


How do you know what I want?”


Hold on.” She held her hand to her forehead. “My ESP tells me you want food.”


You wore the tacos right off me.”


How romantic.” She laughed. “So. Are you cooking or offering something out of a box?”

He cocked his head at her. “Don’t know yet. Do
you
know how to cook?”

She threw herself backward on the bed laughing. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I don’t know how to cook.”


It’s not ridiculous. It’s a basic survival skill, Garland. A way to keep from ending up in a box under a bridge.”

She stopped laughing. “You may be right. It’s just not a skill I’ve needed to survive before now.” She leaned up on an elbow. “So you know how to cook?”

He grinned. “Well, I’m not a gourmet. The only French thing I can cook is French
fries
. But I can throw some stuff in a skillet and have it come out edible.”


Good enough for me. You got some dry clothes I can put on?”

He gave her a pair of c
otton boxers and a Harley tee shirt. Both swallowed her, but he found a safety pin to help hold the boxers in place. Half an hour later they sat down to a Hamburger Helper pasta mix with a few green peppers and carrots thrown in.


This looks like a mess, but it’s yummy.”


Yeah?” His eyes twinkled at the compliment. “Well, it’s not special or anything.”


It is special.” She smiled. “It’s my birthday dinner.”

His jaw went slack. “This is your birthday?”


Yep. I’m a Gemini baby. Sign of the twins.”


Why didn’t you say somethin’ earlier? I would have planned… I don’t know. Somethin’ else.”


Why? This was the best birthday ever. I did things I’ve never done before. I rode on a motorcycle. And not just any motorcycle, a big bad black work of art.” He grinned. “I swam in something that’s not a pool or an ocean. I got river mud between my toes. Okay. That part was kind of, ew, but it was still a new experience.”

He laughed at t
he way she scrunched up her nose.


That’s all good, babe, but what about cake? And a wish candle? More important, why didn’t your dad have a plan?”

She shrugged and looked away for a second. “He forgets more often than not. Since my mom died, and since I didn’t have birthdays during the school year, there was nobody around to make a big deal out of it. So, you know, it’s not a big deal.” She paused. “Plus…” She made circles in the air with a finger pointed at Brant. “I got beefcake.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Ignoring her attempt at humor, he said,
“It
is
a big deal.” After a few seconds he got up and started looking through drawers and cabinets. He found a candle in a holder fashioned from recycled iron, and a lighter. He pulled a piece of paper out of a little spiral notebook, scribbled something quickly, and folded it up.

Moving her plate aside, h
e set the candle in front of her and said, “I don’t have a good singin’ voice, but happy birthday. Make a wish for what you want more than anything.”

Her eyes searched his for a few moments until they grew bright with unshed tears. When her eyelids closed slowly, it forced a single tear down her cheek. She opened her eyes, blew out the candle, and then swiped at the stray tear, trying to make light of the incident and cover with quiet self-deprecating laughter.


Hey,” he said. She felt the timbre of that one word, as he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. He reveled in the feel of her relaxed warmth and braless body. “Your wish makes you sad?”


No. Well, yes. It’s just… y
ou know I can’t tell or it won’t come true.” She dropped her head back so she could look up into his face. “When’s your birthday?”


October. The first.”


Fall. My favorite time of year. At least it is in New England. There’s always this one day when you get up and look outside and, somehow, the shadows look different and you go, ‘It’s here!’.”

Brant ran his thumb over her cheek. “You a poet, Garland?”

She smiled. “We’re all poets in our own way.”


Maybe.

He handed her the piece of folded paper.


What’s this?” She looked as excited as if it was a diamond necklace.

She quickly unfolded the paper and read…

 

Happy Birthday, Beautiful. This coupon is good for one night on the town. On me. - B.F.

 

She gave him
a sweet kiss that went on forever. “Thank you. And I have it in writing that you’re taking me out again.”


Every chance I get.”

She placed a kiss on his bare chest as she slid both hands in
to the rear pockets of his jeans and gave a suggestive little squeeze.


You comin’ on to me?” He looked down through hooded eyes, but she didn’t miss the twitch of the corners of his mouth.


What makes you think that?” she said as one of her hands casually drifted around to the copper buttons on the front of his jeans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 5

 

The days of summer went by faster than Garland would have imagined possible. When she’d gotten on the plane for Texas, eleven weeks had seemed like an eternity, but after Brant entered the picture, she found herself wishing it was eleven years. Or eleven decades.

Whenever an errant thought like that surfaced, she shoved it down hard and focused on something else. Anything else.

When her father wanted to give small dinner parties at the villa to entertain business contacts, he had Garland stand in for a wife with menu planning, table arranging, and, of course, charm. Occasionally he also “asked” her to join golf outings. She suspected that he liked to show off the fact that she was a damn decent golfer. She liked golf and wouldn’t have minded so much if it wasn’t for the fact that temps were hitting triple digits every day.

As Brant told her, people who weren’t born and bred to heat had a hard time acclimating.

She spent every available minute she could with Brant, which meant anytime he was off work and her father hadn’t put in a demand for her time and talents.

Brant spent his days looking forward to seeing Garland at night. He was teaching her how to cook simple stuff, which was more fun than he would have thought. From his point of view, Garland made things fun just by being present.

She never spent the night, but the time they had together was good. Whenever Brant thought about the probability that the end of summer meant the end of Garland, he had difficulty breathing.

One night in late July he made good on his birthday promise of a night out. There was a particular band that he wanted to share with his girl.

She arrived in a red sundress pretty enough to wear to a cocktail party. She parked next to the Camaro and noticed that it was shined to sparkling perfection.

Brant saw her from the window and walked out to greet her wearing his sexy smile, a black AC/DC tee shirt he’d gotten at a concert in San Antonio the year before, and black jeans. Garland thought he looked perfectly scrumptious, and would have been okay with skipping birthday night.


You look gorgeous.”


That’s my line,” he said as he drew her into his arms.


You’ll be sorry if you kiss me. This dress-matching lipstick will give you a permanent case of punch mouth.”


Hard choice. The lady or punch mouth.” She smirked. “I’m thinking you wearin’ that could be a spankable offense.”


Not unless you want that to be the last time you touch me.”


Uh oh. Hit a nerve. Let’s get back to kiss talk.”


Tell you what. Give me drinks and feed me. I won’t reapply, which means that after dinner I’m all yours.”


Likin’ the sound of that better.”


So where are we going?”


Your coach awaits.” He gestured toward the Camaro.


I’m thanking the birthday gods that you don’t expect me to ride the hog in this dress.”


No, baby. The only hog I expect you to ride in that dress…” She stopped him in mid-sentence by slapping at his stomach. ”Ow.”

She laughed. “Do not pretend that hurt, Mr. Steel Body.”


Garland, you say the damndest things.”

He shut the door after she’d tucked her skirt in.


So where did you say we’re going?”

As he pulled out he glanced back and forth between the road ahead and his beautiful passenger.


There’s a historic hotel downtown, The Driskill. It’s got a grill and it’s only a couple of blocks from the best live music in the world.”


Nice. So what makes it the best music in the world?”


This is where the innovators come to be heard before they either make it or get broken to bits by suit-wearing accountants who don’t know the first or last thing about music.”

 

Brant spent a big part of dinner entertaining Garland with tales of colorful events that happened in the hotel.

She laughed. “Do you believe this stuff?”

He smiled. “Just because it’s folklore doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

She sat back. “Whew. I’m stuffed.”


Too bad.”


What do you mean, too bad?”


You’re about to find out.”

Right on cue, the waiter set a plate in front of her with the biggest piece of fudge cake she’d ever seen. In the middle was one red candle, which he lit, saying, “We hope you enjoy your birthday, Ms. St. Germaine. It’s been a privilege to have you as our guest for your special occasion.”

BOOK: A Season in Gemini, Intro
5.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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