Joy Ride (20 page)

Maybe he was just imagining she was into him. Wishful thinking. She was obviously stepping into a world she knew nothing about. What was she really looking for? Did she think he wasn’t exciting enough for her? Or too exciting? Was the sex suddenly too over the top?

Shit. I’ll drive myself crazy doing this
.

Any sleep he managed had been fitful, his dreams invaded by erotic images of her naked in his bed. Under him. Over him. The feel of her when he was inside her. The scent she wore clung to his sheets, tantalizing him. And at night, at Aftershock, his eyes kept straying to the spot where she usually stood, her sweet little body swaying to the music.

He’d been encouraged by the information he’d pried out of her in such a slick manner. Maybe she didn’t think she was giving him clues to herself, but all those little things were indicators of the real person she was. A person who was becoming even more special to him.

What would she say if he told her just how “everyday” his background really was? Parents with real world jobs. Two brothers at the university. A family who bonded over cooking. All the things making up the real fabric of his life. Would they make him more or less interesting to her?

Better get yourself together, buddy boy, or the band will eat your ass for lunch. Can’t screw up this video.

Everyone was already at the studio when he got there. Rick’s cousin, Jado, had built a stellar reputation shooting videos for bands and was doing this on a Saturday as a favor to Lightnin’.

“Family always comes through,” Rick had told them.

They would pay Jado, of course, but a pittance compared to what he usually charged. And he had a top-notch facility and the equipment to go with it.

The song they’d chosen was called
On the Edge of the Woods
, about the lure of the darkness of the trees and the sunlight that washes it away. Jado’s studio was in a rural area with a thick forest-like expanse bordering it, so they’d decided to shoot the video outside. Something to enrich the flavor of the song.

The band members had agreed all four of them didn’t need to hang over the shoulders of the two professionals. Since this was Rick’s project, they were leaving it in his hands. Even Garrett had agreed that was the best. Then he’d go home for sack time before his meeting with Butch Meredith.

“Hey, guy.” Rick walked over and clapped him on the shoulder. “All set?”

Marc nodded. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“Nope. I asked the same thing of Garrett and Danny.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, took them out again, the air around him jittery with his nervous energy. “We’re cramming a lot into forty-eight hours to get this done so there’s no margin for error here. You’re not letting…stuff screw with your head, right? What we talked about after rehearsal the other day?”

Marc bit back a retort. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake talking to Rick about Music Lady. “This video has been my focus, Rick. I know writing the script is a huge responsibility and it makes me feel great you guys trust me to do this.”

“That’s because you’re very good at it. You really have the length and timing down pat, and you get creative with the stage directions. That’s what makes our videos so good.”

For just a moment tension shimmered between them. Was that a real compliment or was Rick patronizing him? Suddenly losing confidence in him?

Quit imagining things. Rick is just doing his leader of the band thing
.

“People have no idea how complicated it can get to produce a three-to-five minute video. I know we’re a little on edge with this particular one because of what it can mean.”

“Which is why we’ve walked through it so many times this week,” Rick reminded him.

“So then have faith in us. In me. I’m good to go, Rick. I’m a professional. You should know that by now. Besides, I know Jado’s giving us a dirt-cheap rate so I want him to know I appreciate it.

“Just making sure.”

He might have said more but Jado was suddenly next to Marc, hooking him up with a tiny mic that would be invisible to the cameras.

“As usual,” he reminded Marc, “don’t worry about the quality of this soundtrack. This is just to sync with the real tracks you’ll lay down tomorrow. “

Marc grinned. “Thanks, Jado. Cause this is my first time doing this, right?”

Jado clapped him on the shoulder. “Just covering all my bases, guy. This one’s pretty important, and we want to make sure every detail is covered. No sweat.”

“He knows it,” Rick said. “He’s just being his smartass self. We’re set to begin at Scotty’s studio tomorrow at ten in the morning. You worked out the details of the final product with him?”

Jado laughed. “Yes, Mr. Obsessive. When he’s finished the mix of the sound tracks, he’ll bring it here and the two of us will finish up. Don’t worry. You’ll get a quality finished piece out of this, my man.” Jado winked at Rick and walked back to his equipment.

Marc looked at his friend. “We’ll be fine, Rick. We rehearsed our asses off this week on this. And everyone’s psyched about it.”

He lifted his guitar case out of the Jeep, and they headed over to where the other band members waited. Marc knew they could do this. No doubt about it. There was a magic to the way the four of them blended that made them top sellers in the city’s rock clubs. Now it was important to make sure it would translate to a big concert stage. And the best part was there wouldn’t be a lot of time to think about Music Lady.

He hoped.

“Okay, everyone,” Rick called. “Get tuned up.” He inclined his head toward a place at the edge of the trees. “Jado’s marked the spots where he wants us to start. So, let’s do it.”

***

“I’m telling you, you’re a fool if you don’t go back there tonight,” Annie said, popping a potato chip in her mouth.

She and Emma were lying on loungers in Emma’s backyard and indulging themselves in junk food and sweet tea. Emma had rehashed the conversation with her folks and her confrontation with Andrew until she was sick of the sound of her own voice. But she was stuck on two things: why had it taken her thirty years to wake up and smell the roses, and how could she put her anger at Andrew to rest?

Annie, of course, was more interested in coaxing her back to Aftershock.

“I don’t think I can explain it to you,” Emma said. “I can hardly explain it to myself. But Marc is…is…larger than life. There’s so much raw masculinity, so much energy surrounding him that everyone and everything else fades into the background. Annie, when he’s up on stage, really into his music, he’s in another world. I see the crowd so mesmerized by him, the excitement he generates, and I wonder what in hell I’m doing there.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d say having a good time.” Annie crunched on another chip.

Emma chewed her bottom lip, frustrated. These days, she didn’t seem to be doing a good job of explaining her emotions about anything to anyone.

“Sometimes it’s like I’ve walked into the set of a movie,” she said slowly. “By mistake. And while Marc has made me welcome, I worry any minute he’s going to discover it’s—this,
us
—is all a big mistake and the whole thing will disappear.” She swatted at a fly buzzing around her head. “I’m nothing like the women he’s used to being with.”

“How do you know what kind of women he hangs with? Please don’t tell me he’s low class enough to talk about them.”

“No. Are you kidding?” She blew at a stray hair on her forehead. “But I see the women who come to the club. How they are. How they dress. There’s one especially that looks at Marc like she wants to eat him alive.”

“And does he look at her the same way?”

Emma rubbed her forehead. “Well, no, but I feel, I don’t know,
dowdy
compared to her. Them.”

“First of all, chickadee, no one would ever call you dowdy. Besides, you’ve spiced up your hair. Got some new duds. But maybe the difference is what attracts him to you.” Annie crunched another chip and swallowed. “He doesn’t seem too anxious to kick you to the curb.” She paused. “And what would be so terrible if you gave him your name?”

“No. No, no, no.”

Their differences continued to plague her despite his cute little Twenty Questions game and the other tidbits he’d managed to pry out of her. And what little she’d learned about him. His family. His father played guitar. He had two brothers in college. But what did his father do? His mother? She sensed a normalcy she hadn’t quite expected but there were still so many unanswered questions. And over and above it all, she was still scared. If this…thing…between them fell apart, which she kept expecting it to do, she needed to be able to hide behind the old Emma.

Annie raised her eyebrows. “Why so definite about it? What’s the problem?”

“It’s like being Music Lady is a new identity for me. Emma’s dull and boring but Music Lady is appealing and exciting. And maybe a little but mysterious.”

“So you think you can hook him by wrapping yourself in a cloak of secrecy?”

“Uh huh. That’s part of it. As Music Lady, I can be everything Emma’s not.”

Annie quirked an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Emma shrugged. “You know. Into the music.” She brushed a hand over her head. “Purple streaks in my hair.” She bit her lower lip. “Good…together with him.”

Her friend laughed. “You mean wild monkey sex, right? Ohmigod, you’re blushing! I’m right.” Then she sobered. “But even then I’ll bet he sees the essence of Emma. Did you ever stop to think what you offer might be what he really wants? Not the girls from the club scene?”

“I don’t know.” Emma pressed the icy cold glass to her forehead. “I just don’t know.”

“Well, I do.” Annie sat up and swung her legs over the side of the chair. “You’re going back to Aftershock tonight if I have to take you and dump you there myself. Holy crap, Emma. I’m so glad you broke out of your shell. Don’t crawl back in because you’re afraid of something that might not even happen.”

“I know, I know.” Emma worried a fingernail. The sad truth was she really didn’t need Annie to give her a push. She’d already decided to go back to the club. She just couldn’t make herself stay away from her Guitar Man. He’d awakened emotional and sexual feelings in her she hadn’t even known she was capable of.

“Then it’s settled. At least keep seeing him until you know what’s going to happen one way or the other.”

Her mind kept tripping over a disturbing thought, one that popped up whenever her confidence drooped. “But…what if all he wants from me is sex? What if this is just a different kind of game for him?”

“From what you’ve told me about him and the way he is with you, I don’t think that’s it. If he was just looking for a little different flavor, he’d be over it by now. But if it somehow turns out you’re right, then enjoy every minute of it while it lasts. Now come on. We need to quit lazing around and do some shopping.”

Emma frowned. “Shopping? For what?”

“Some snazzy duds so you can knock Marc’s socks off tonight.”

Hours later, she parked at the edge of the jammed lot at Aftershock, turned off the engine, and took a deep breath. She’d let Annie call the shots during their whirlwind shopping tour, and now she was geared up in a pair of tight white jeans and a hot pink tank top designed to show off every one of her assets. Her silvery blonde hair hung in shining waves to her shoulder and large gold hoops sparkled at her ears. Newly polished toenails glistened through the straps of hot pink sandals Annie had insisted on.

The old Emma was fading as the new Music Lady surged to the forefront, even though she was battling a bad case of nerves.

The moment she opened the door to the club, it was like the first night all over again. Sound blasted at her in waves, the yelling of the crowd a counterpoint to the loud volume of the music. She had to wait while the bouncer processed the people in front of her then gave him her ten dollars and held her hand out for the stamp.

“Glad to see you again.” He grinned and winked at her.

He recognized her. Emma relaxed fractionally. At least this wasn’t like walking into strange territory anymore. She’d take every advantage she could get.

The press of bodies was even tighter tonight than the first time she’d been there. She had to shove her way to the bar this time. Mostly everyone ignored her, caught up in the thrall of the music. By the time she reached the bar, she was sweaty and panting and she hadn’t been there for fifteen minutes.

“Lone Star,” she shouted at the bartender who was busy pouring three drinks at a time. She’d been drinking beer since the first night and surprisingly it wasn’t too bad. He nodded, grabbed a bottle out of the well beneath the bar, handed it to her, and took her money all without even raising his eyes.
How did he even do that?

Then she was back to shoving and elbowing, ignoring glares and a few curses as she bulldozed her way to her usual spot in front of the stage. People were moving frenetically in place, and Emma couldn’t tell if they were dancing alone or with someone else.

The band was bathed in a red glow, the music heavy and wild and building to a crescendo. Marc was pulling the now familiar very erotic low sound from his guitar and leaning forward slightly to sing into the microphone in front of him. His hair, as usual, was wild around his face, the light bathing him. The sight was so sensual, Emma felt the pulsing beat all the way from her breasts to her sex and on to her toes. Her entire body seemed to be in tune with the sensual bass guitar.

And the guitarist.

The last notes of the song pierced the air and hung in the shimmery darkness for a long moment. Then the crowd began clapping and stamping and screaming for more. Emma managed to move herself an inch or two to the left so she’d be in Marc’s line of vision and did her best to wait patiently. He threw his head back, shaking his hair out of his eyes and took a step back. The lighting changed from red to a soft yellow. His gaze tracked over the front of the crowd…and then landed on her.

The grin he gave her pumped up her heart rate, and she smiled back at him.

“Later,” he mouthed. “Don’t leave.”

And then they were into the next song, and Emma was caught up in it just like everyone else.