The Magic's in the Music (Magic Series Book 5) (22 page)

Read The Magic's in the Music (Magic Series Book 5) Online

Authors: Susan Squires

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: The Magic's in the Music (Magic Series Book 5)
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How had that happened? Music rose inside him now, the chords stronger. Different instruments were coming in for their parts. It was complex, intriguing.

He eased himself out of the covers, leaving Greta to sleep. He went over to the desk and grabbed some tablature paper and his jeans. He’d go outside on the terrace where he wouldn’t wake her and just get this down while he could still remember it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN


“They’re going to
wake Tammy up if they keep yelling like that,” Tris grumbled. He and Kemble were sharing a glass of Lagavulin 16 year in the dark on the terrace as they listened to the pair in the Bay of Pigs consummate the inevitable. Couldn’t his little brother keep it down?

“Trust me, she’s awake,” Kemble muttered, sitting in a teak armchair. “Her bedroom is right above them. Jane’s probably not getting much sleep in our room, either. I just hope Mother can’t hear them.”

To confirm his theory, Jane appeared, wrapping her warm chenille robe around her body.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tris asked as a shriek spiraled up from behind her. Stupid question.

Jane gave a rueful smile. “Not much.”

“What’s that Paul Simon song? ‘Couple in the next room bound to win a prize. They’ve been goin’ at it all night long.’” Tris resolved to make light of the embarrassing situation.

Kemble sloshed Scotch down his throat. “At least they’re finally irrevocably committed. That was getting tense.” He grabbed the bottle from the terrace bar and lifted it. “Want something, honey?”

Jane shook her head and hugged her body. “I just wish they were committed. This is happening too fast for them. They hardly know each other.”

Kemble beckoned to her and she sat in his lap. He put his glass in the other hand and drew her close. “Not everyone took years to develop their relationship like we did.”

Tris knew Jane had loved Kemble since she was twelve or fourteen. The sentiment hadn’t been returned, though, until they’d actually married, and their love hadn’t blossomed fully until it was mutual. But that wasn’t true of some others in the family. “Got to agree with you, Bro. Drew went after Michael when she’d only seen him on TV. And Maggie and me…well, I’ll tell you, I had the biggest, most painful…” He realized he’d started on a course he couldn’t finish in front of Jane. Must be the Scotch. “Well, I mean, we were, uh, attracted from the start.” He fumbled with his glass. Good thing it was dark out here or his blush would finish the sentence for him. “It’s pretty much hell when you have no idea what’s going on, or don’t know much about your partner.”

Jane slid her arm around her husband’s neck, looking at Tris thoughtfully. “That’s why you have to intervene,” she said. “You understand.”

“What’s to intervene?” Kemble protested. Good thing, because Tris was speechless. What did she want him to do? March into Lan’s room and stop them in the act?

“You know he’ll bolt, once he, uh, calms down.” Jane s looked between them, startled. “You don’t think he’s going to give in without a fight do you? He wants no part of the family’s Destiny, what with the Clan plotting to control who knows what about the world and kill us all into the bargain.”

“He’s always known this would happen,” Kemble muttered.

“But Brian was the dyke that held back his fear about even having a Destiny. We all thought Brian could take care of anything. And now that security isn’t there anymore. Lan’s afraid of the future, afraid of the Clan, afraid he has no control over his life anymore.”

Neither man knew what to say to that.

“When you have a Destiny some things aren’t up to you. He’s been running from it for more than a year.” She shook her head. “As if you could escape it.” She heaved a sigh. “No, the sudden way it’s caught up with him…the intensity…that will scare him to death. He’ll be out the door just like last time they got close to, uh, consummating their relationship.”

“They got close?” the men asked in unison. Then both sipped their drink, embarrassed.

Jane looked impatient. “The other night? When he brought her here?” She caught herself. “Oh, you didn’t see him out on the lawn. He was, um, trying to relieve the tension.”

Kemble’s eyes got big then angry. “You’re kidding. He was jerking off? Was he naked?”

Jane shrugged.

“Out on the lawn? Where anybody—like Tammy—could see him? I’ll have his hide—”

“Tammy didn’t see him.”

“You did!” Kemble protested.

Ahh.
Even though Lan was Kemble’s little brother, Tris thought Kemble’s green monster was raising its head. Lan was a well-built guy. Well, they all were. Didn’t his insecure older brother know that he and Jane belonged only to each other? Tris concentrated on his glass. Nothing he could say here that wouldn’t make it worse.

“Greta was in the window too, watching.” Jane sighed. “They were both in a lot of pain.”

“I’ll show Lanyon what pain is,” Kemble muttered. “Traipsing around buck-naked where any female can see him and….”

“Your reaction is precisely why Tris will go talk to him, before Lanyon can run off again and make himself and Greta both miserable.”

Tris jerked his head up at his name. “Now, Jane, I’m no good at that stuff. You know that. Man of few words. Not the sensitive type.”

“So you would like to have us think, Tristram Tremaine,” Jane scolded. But her smile said she was only teasing. “You are wonderful with Maggie and the kids. The guys at your shop would do anything for you. And…” She held up a finger to stop his protest. “Most importantly, you have felt what he’s going through. You and Maggie tried to split when it got frightening. You understand. And you know how well it can all work out.”

Tris set his glass down on the bar too firmly. “What am I supposed to say to him?”

Jane pursed her lips. “I refuse to put words in your mouth, Tris. They’d be the wrong words, anyway. You need to talk to him like one man talks to another.”

“Oh, great.” Tris rolled his eyes. “Hey, how about those Kings, huh? Think they got a chance at the Stanley Cup again this year?”

Jane actually chuckled and then sighed. “Come to bed, husband. The shrieking has died down. Which means sleeping is again possible. And in about an hour, Tris is going to intercept his brother trying to sneak out of the house and give him the benefit of his vast wisdom.”

Kemble gave a sly grin and shrugged in a way that said, ‘What can you do?’ as his small wife dragged him toward the French doors.

Tris gave a disgusted grunt.
Peachy.
And now he couldn’t just pack it in and go to bed himself. Jane had given him no choice in the matter. Damn uncomfortable. But it was family. Guess he could relate to Lan’s dilemma. Shit. He was going to do this.

Or try.

*

The light chill
in the September night air felt good on Lan’s bare torso as he slid around the side of the house with his tablature paper. The music still filled his mind. This was good stuff. He could feel it. Flute would come in right there, interrupting the strings. Violas and cellos would give it bottom. They’d sound like courage. Greta had courage. The way she’d demanded answers… answers he had no intention of giving her, of course.

He threw himself down at the teak table. He didn’t even know the woman. How did he know this was her music? But it wouldn’t get out of his head. He spread the tablature paper out, took up his pencil and began to write furiously. Only the setting moon provided light. It was enough. As soon as he finished this, he’d go. But not until whatever was inside him had poured out onto the paper. How was he so sure of the notes? How did he know how it would all come together? But he did, and the feeling of sureness was the most wonderful thing he’d ever felt in his life, except maybe the sex he’d just had with Greta. Some part of his mind heard the French doors open behind him. But she was still down in his room, so he didn’t look up. He was scribbling so fast he just drew an X through the ball of the notes instead of coloring them in to make them solid. Chords seemed to rise unbidden from his pencil for the piano part. His hand darted over the page. At the bottom, he skipped to percussion, marking beats as fast as he could. Hearing it all at once like this was wonderful and overwhelming. How would he get it all down? He only had five hundred sheets in the ream. Horns! He hardly ever wrote for horns. But there they were.

At last, he sat back. He had no idea how long he’d been there, but the sky had turned from black to a lighter indigo. It might be getting close to dawn. He shivered. The aroma of roses, in the background of his mind for the last hours, wafted over him. The fecund scent of the sea hung in the air from the waves dashing against the cliff below the house. The teak furniture on the terrace gave off a damp-wood smell.

“How goes it?”

Lan jerked around. There, in a chair under the pergola was a dark shape and the end of a…a cigar, probably, gleaming red. Tris. “I thought you gave those up,” Lan said, his voice hoarse as though he hadn’t spoken for a year.

“I have. Except for special occasions.”

Lan tried to drag himself back from the brink of music so overwhelming it terrified him and calmed him at the same time. He stared at the pages and pages of tablature scattered around him. He’d just written a symphony if he wasn’t mistaken. “W-what’s the occasion?”

“You found your Destiny.”

That brought Lan back to earth. They knew? “Why do you say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. The shrieking and yelling sex, maybe. The fact that you brought her home. Or maybe the fact that you ran from her and she got sick. Kinda adds up.”

“I didn’t run from her.” God, now he sounded like a pouty child.

“Yes, you did. You’re about to run again.”

That stopped him cold.

“I thought so,” Tris said. The tip of the cigar glowed brighter as he drew on it. The curling smoke was just visible in the dark.

“You’re going to tell me I can’t run from Destiny or something. Not that I’d call it running. But don’t I have a right to choose the direction of my life?”

“Sure you do. And you’ve made some dandy choices so far. Alcohol, women you could care less about, seedy motels…I guess you can rot your soul in Timbuktu as well as you can in West Hollywood. A few really bad days with the sickness, but you get over that with enough distance. I know. Then all you’ve got is nothin’. Sounds perfect.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” Lan tried to keep his voice even.

“Wonder if that’s what she wants?” His damn brother had the balls to make it sound nonchalant. “Cause that’s what she’s gonna get, too.”

Damn.
Lan felt his stomach clench. That was just the problem, wasn’t it? Now he’d involved Greta. He ran his fingers through his hair. What was he supposed to do? Give up on having a life of his own and settle down to be a good little Tremaine with a woman he didn’t even know?

Tris picked up a glass from the table beside him. Lan could hear the ice tinkling in it, smell the Scotch. His brother seemed to change the subject. “What you got there?” He gestured to the scattered papers.

“Nothing.”

Tris grunted. “You were always the worst at lying. Well, Kemble was worst, but you were a strong runner-up. So, what is it?”

Lan stared at the tablature sheets. “I think it’s a symphony.”

“You wrote it just now?” Tris sounded incredulous.

Lan didn’t bother to lie. Tris was right. He was bad at it. And he had a feeling Tris had been sitting there for a while. “Yeah.”

“Good feeling, isn’t it? That rush of power.”

Lan’s brows drew together. “That was it?” It was wonderful. He’d never felt so…right. It was as if he’d been blind all his life and he’s just learned to see. Scratch that—
hear.

“Yeah,” Tris said. “That was it.”

“Is it like that every time?”

“Pretty much. Sex is that good, too. Though you do learn to, uh, moderate. You know. Sometimes tender, not so much screaming.”

Oh. They had been loud. Neither of them even thought about the fact that the whole house had probably heard them. He felt himself flushing. What was that about? He was a guy. Guys weren’t embarrassed about having mind-blowing sex.

“Even better than the sex is the…” Tris paused as though he wasn’t quite sure how to put it into words. He shook his head slowly and chuffed a half-laugh. “I guess it’s the deepness of the feeling you’ll have for her, the sense that you’re totally open to each other. That part comes after the mind-blasting sex,” he added.

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