Love's Road Home (15 page)

It seemed that her whole being yearned for his touch. Her tingling breasts and the warm area between her thighs begged for attention.
But even more important than that, she wanted a kiss.

A simple, tender touch of his lips against hers.
A caring gesture which demonstrated how deeply affected he was by this act—the act of lovemaking.

Which was what she was.
In love.

With Tom.

And she wanted to show him that love the only way she knew how.

"Top," she said breathlessly.

He didn’t move to straddle her again, but instead sat by her side. He leaned over her, his muscular arms supporting most of his weight, caging her in. His firm chest seared her where it pressed against her taut nipples. Her arms were pinned to her side, her hands unable to caress him.

For the longest time they just stared into each other’s eyes. She hoped he, too, was realizing how significant this moment truly was.

Overwhelmed at the feelings burgeoning inside her, Beth’s eyes slowly closed.

And he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. So softly that she almost believed it hadn’t happened.

But then he did it again. Letting his mouth linger a little longer this time, but pressing no harder.

She strained to free her arms, needing to pull him closer, hold him longer. But he wouldn’t allow it.

"Beth," he murmured, shifting to place kisses on her cheeks, her forehead.

"Beth, come on," he urged softly.

Come on, what? He wouldn’t let her do anything.

She tried once more to move her arms, but it wasn’t happening. They were firmly held in place.

"Come on." Another soft kiss on her lips. "Time to get up, sleepyhead."

What?

She forced her heavy eyelids open.
Blinked a few times to clear her vision.

But instead of seeing Tom half naked and sitting beside her, he was fully clothed and kneeling in front of her.

She was slumped in a seat of the tour bus she’d boarded last night after the concert. Like Tom she was fully clothed, but she was pretty sure his underpants weren’t soaking wet like hers were.

What a dream.

If Tom hadn’t grasped her upper arms and awakened her with soft words and softer kisses, she probably would have embarrassed herself with a loud, powerful orgasm.

And that wasn’t how she wanted to greet her co-workers in the morning. She was uncomfortable enough as it was, with Tom hovering over her in front of everybody.

Beth took a quick look around, only then noticing that no one else remained on the bus. It was just her and Tom.

Well, at least she only had one person to face after that hot fantasy.

Except that person happened to be the star of her wet dream, and facing him wasn’t going to be easy.

She licked her dry lips, cleared her throat.
Focused on his mouth, still too flustered to meet his gaze.

Big mistake.

His attractive mouth was what had gotten her in this condition in the first place.

She quickly but unsteadily pushed to her feet, shaking off his hold. Tom was forced to stand and move out of her way.

"So, where is everybody?" Beth turned, ostensibly to look out the bus window, but really so she could scrub the sleepiness, and arousal, from her face.

"It’s around six AM. We’re at a diner not far from the hotel. Everyone’s in having breakfast."

She turned back to him, a bright smile plastered on her face. "Great! Let’s go. I’m starved!"

"Um, Beth?
You might want to freshen up before we go in."

Beth instantly looked down, afraid he’d seen residual signs of her desire. But everything looked pretty normal to her. Her nipples had softened, and the dampness between her legs hadn’t left any telltale spot on her jeans.

She looked up and saw Tom’s gaze focused on her hair.

She raised her hands and found that the thick ponytail she’d had last night no longer existed. Her hair was hanging loose, in a wild, tangled disarray around her face.

Oh, God.

Had she done that while she’d slept?
While she’d dreamt of Tom?

She prayed no one on the bus had witnessed her actions. Lord knew where else her hands had traveled during the night.

Embarrassment returned full force. She had to escape and pull herself together.

"Excuse me," she mumbled as she snatched her carry-on from the seat and pushed past Tom, heading for the bathroom at the rear of the bus. "I’ll be right back."

"I’ll be waiting," was his reply.

And he was.

When she emerged from the small rest room a few minutes later, her bladder empty, clothes changed, face washed, teeth brushed, and hair once again neatly pulled back—this time with a large clip—Tom was seated near the bus door, flipping through a magazine.

He looked up and smiled as she came toward him. Her heart flip-flopped, and as he rose and extended his hand to her, she remembered.

In her fantasy, she’d admitted to herself that she loved him. That’s why she’d wanted so badly to make love with him.

They exited the bus in silence. Tom lifted her hand to plant a habitual kiss on her knuckles, but he didn’t miss a step as he led her toward the diner.

Good thing he was a good leader, because if left to her own devices, she wouldn’t have a clue what she was doing.

She was numb.

Scared.

Because although the physical intimacies she’d experienced last night had been figments of her imagination, the emotions they’d evoked were all too real.

She was in love with Tom.
Deeply in love.

This wasn’t the half-ass emotion she’d felt for Eric prior to her arrest. No infatuation here—this was the real deal.

And she didn’t think it was going away any time soon.

•

Tom held the door open for
Bethany
and allowed her to precede him into the diner. He was hungry as a horse, as the saying goes.

Once Hannah had left him alone last night, he’d dozed off, guided by images of the woman by his side.

He didn’t remember any details of what he’d dreamt, but he’d woke with a smile on his face and a ravenous feeling in his gut. The kind of feeling a man gets after a period of strenuous exercise.

He only wished the kind of exercise he’d imagined had been reality.

But there was always later, at the hotel. He was sure he could find time alone with Beth at some point today. They actually had an extra day off scheduled this week, leaving plenty of time for socializing.

Maybe they could finally make some of his dreams come true. But right now, he was hoping to just sit next to her while they had breakfast.

"Hey, Beth!
Over here!" Cole’s loud, eager voice interrupted Tom’s musings. "We saved a seat for you."

So much for that little wish.

"Go ahead," he told Beth. "I’ll catch up with you later."

He watched as she gave her father a good morning kiss and sat down beside him,
then
Tom moved to a nearby table where Leo was seated.

At least he wouldn’t have to crane his neck to look at her. From this vantage point, he could see Beth’s face clearly as she spoke with Mike, Cole, and George. It was a poor consolation prize, but he’d take it.

The waitress came to take their
orders,
and a short while later the band and crew were served dishes overflowing with hot food. Conversation slowed and eventually stopped altogether as people focused on clearing their plates.

It wasn’t until meals had been devoured and everyone was lingering over coffee that a comment spoken at Beth’s table caught his attention.

"Hey, Beth, you must’ve been having some nightmare last night. You was squirming around so hard in your seat I figured you was
gonna
end up on the floor!" It was Cole again, speaking loud enough for half the restaurant to hear.

Tom’s eyes shot to
Bethany
.

Her face was beet
red,
her eyes open wide as her gaze locked with his.

Then she glanced away, back toward Cole, and began babbling an answer. "Um, yeah. Yeah. It was a horrible nightmare.
From childhood."

She darted another glance at Tom, who hadn’t bothered to look away.

"My mother died, you know. In a horrible accident. Drunk driver. I was only eight."

Another quick look at Tom.

"That’s when I started traveling with Dad, on the road. The motion of the bus probably brought in all out of my subconscious."

It was such an obvious line of bull that Tom almost laughed.

But he couldn’t laugh because the fear he’d felt for Beth yesterday came rushing back with full force. It was clear to him that Beth hadn’t been dreaming of her dead mother at all.

She’d been dreaming of Eric Sharpe.

She’d put on a good act for him, he’d give her that. He’d honestly believed that she wasn’t concerned about Sharpe coming after her.

But she’d just buried the fear, only permitting it to surface while she slept.

Dreams were usually a good place to find hidden truths.

"Tom! Leo!"

The men simultaneously turned to see what was happening.

Liz rushed toward them, her naturally olive complexion now pale and streaked with silent tears, cell phone clutched in hand. Hannah, Dylan, Sam, and Jack were close behind her.

"I have to leave! I have to go home!"

"What’s going on?" Leo asked.

"My mother’s had a stroke. I have to get home—there’s no one else!"

The women had been singing with Roadhouse for a couple years, so Tom was aware of Liz’s situation. Her elderly mother lived on her own, and Liz’s brother was in the Navy, currently somewhere overseas.

He knew how close Liz and her mother were, and he understood that she had to get back to
Savannah
. He would’ve done the same thing if his own mother were alive and needed assistance.

Nothing was more important than family.

Tom looked around at the other members of Roadhouse. Their faces showed sympathy, and he knew they all felt as he did.

"Go on, Liz.
Head on home. We all wish you the best of luck. Let us know how your mom is doing."

Murmurs of acquiescence and condolence could be heard from the surrounding group.

Hannah wrapped an arm around her friend. "I’ll help Liz get her stuff together and make arrangements to get back to
Georgia
."