Buried Notes (Brothers of Rock #4) (15 page)

“Really? She gets around?”

“Don’t underestimate Mrs. Parsons.
She maps her day around traveling through Plesent. Gathering information.
Telling everyone.”

“What did she say about me?” Chris
asked and smiled.

Becky rolled her eyes. She was not
going to fall for his little flirty moves like that. Not now. No way.

“She said some grubby bassist was
looking for me.”

“Grubby bassist? Nice.”

“I have crappy taste I guess,”
Becky said.

“Still have that attitude.”

“You learn to love it or leave it.”

Chris looked like he had something
to say to the comment, but it slowly fizzled to a few seconds of awkward
silence.

“You know, I can cook,” Chris said.

“Mr. Rockstar can cook?”

“Yeah. I make a wicked chicken
parm.”

“Is that so?” Becky asked.

“And from what I can see...”

Chris walked towards Becky. She had
the pantry door open, and was facing the closet. There was nowhere to go unless
she made a fool of herself and dove out of the way. Chris stopped right behind her
and pointed up.

“... that looks like a bottle of
wine.”

“Oh, that,” Becky said. “That’s
for, uh, a special occasion.”

“Is that the divorce bottle?” Chris
asked.

His voice was honest and cold.

Becky nodded.

“You’ll need something stronger for
divorce.”

She looked up at Chris. The urge to
kiss him was immense. In fact, part of Becky hoped Chris would have come back
as a beat up rockstar. Someone who lost their soul on the road. Someone who had
nothing but memories and a one way ticket to the grave. Instead, Chris looked
perfect. Chiseled. Strong. And he smelled so damn good.

Stop
smelling him
, Becky told herself.

She tried to pull some angry
feelings.

Like when he left. Like when he
never found her. Like when he...

But Becky had nothing.

This whole thing was between them.
They both did it.

Together.

Chris reached for the wine and his
body pressed against Becky’s back. Her toes curled in her socks and a warm
feeling ran through her body like a blazing July heat wave.

Shit
,
she thought.

Chris looked at the bottle.
“This’ll do.”

His body was still against Becky’s.
She still stared at him.

Yes
it will.

(17)

It was a blur as Chris cooked
dinner. He couldn’t believe what he was doing. It seemed just hours ago he was
ready to drink himself into oblivion. To sign the divorce papers and move on
with his life. But here was, cooking, serving, and eating dinner with Becky. As
he opened the wine, he looked at Becky from the corner of his eye. Sitting at
the table, her eyes staring somewhere else, he realized what her little cruel
joke had done to him.

Becky had lied and said she was
with someone. It made perfect sense since they had an agreement to call off
their marriage if someone fell in love or was getting married. She played him,
even for half a day, and it got to Chris. That’s what did it. That’s what
changed everything inside Chris right then and there. He knew coming back to
see Becky was something he had to do. Even if she was with another man - or if
she just decided she wanted it done - he wanted to just have that chance to say
goodbye to her. To see her one last time. To see what the years had done to
her. Feelings would always linger, but what Chris didn’t anticipate was how he
felt thinking Becky had someone. It proved that feelings were very much alive.
They were thriving, and his heart was throbbing just thinking about it.

When Becky took the first bite of
food, she looked shocked.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said.
“This is amazing.”

“Told you,” Chris said. “But I’ll
confess... it’s probably the only thing I can really cook.”

“Best I’ve ever had,” Becky said.

Chris smiled, not meaning anything
by it. Becky’s face turned red and Chris understood what her statement could
have meant. He poured them each a glass of wine and they ate, drank, and slowly
warmed up to each other. He loved everything she said, but after the third
glass of wine he casually took the bottle of wine and put it to the counter and
hoped to leave it there.

Becky was feeling the wine and as
Chris started to clean up from their dinner, she started talking. The truth
usually came out just a little easier after a few drinks.

“I thought about you forever,”
Becky said. “All the time. I bought your CD’s. I even thought about going to a
couple shows but it just never worked out.”

“We’re coming to North Carolina in
a couple weeks,” Chris said.

“When did that happen?”

“Why? Do you stalk us?”

Becky looked away. “No. I check
dates and stuff, as a fan.”

“As a fan...” Chris wasn’t sure
whether to feel flattered or like an idiot. “Well, I just found out about the
extra dates. They seem to be adding the dates and selling tickets faster than
they tell us.”

Chris rinsed the plates and loaded
Becky’s dishwasher. He had a sense of home coming over him but knew he couldn’t
get too involved with those feelings. He had to be in Baltimore soon. He had to
come to Plesent to say goodbye to Becky, tell her he was sorry, maybe kiss her,
then leave.

“My mother liked your band,” Becky
said.

“Really? She listened to Chasing
Cross?”

“Yeah. She was an interesting
woman. I loved her so much.”

“Well, I can picture you as her,”
Chris said.

Becky blinked. “She was such a
fighter, but it was just too much.”

“I’m sorry.” Chris came back to the
table but sat near Becky. “I’m really sorry. I’ll never forgive myself.”

“You can’t beat yourself up over
everything,” Becky said. “My life is not perfect.”

“Tell me everything then.”

Becky sipped the start of what
would be her fourth glass of wine, one she poured right before Chris took it
away, and then said, “Are you sure?”

“Give it to me, Becky. I’ve been
waiting to hear your voice for so long.”

“I’m not in love with my job
anymore,” she said. “I actually hate it. I’m right above it and I hate it. I
came here to be with my family and do something fun. And it was fun. Maybe it
still is fun, I don’t know. But Rachael has a family. Deb is married to my
brother. And my mother is gone now. There’s just…”

“No passion,” Chris whispered.

“Yes,” Becky said. “Do you ever
feel that way?”

“I don’t,” Chris said. “I always
thought my time would come when I’d get on stage and it would feel processed.
It hasn’t happened. I play now like I did five years ago, ten years ago,
sitting in my bedroom with posters on my wall, dreaming of shows. But I do understand
the feeling... I just don’t feel it.”

“I’m a mess,” Becky said.

She closed her eyes and when Chris
saw a fresh tear, he couldn’t help himself. He touched her back and slowly
crept his hand towards her shoulder to pull her closer to him. Becky didn’t
resist but she didn’t open her eyes.

“You’re not a mess,” Chris said.

Chris’s hand moved up Becky’s
shoulder, touching her soft hair. His fingertips tingled, wanting to do more,
touch more. But could he? Could he just jump back into things like this?

“I’m going to hurt everyone... I’ve
already hurt you.”

Becky finally opened her eyes. She
looked at Chris and he saw a pure honesty coming from her that he never saw
before. She was so vulnerable, weak in her emotions. Chris felt thankful he was
there to comfort Becky.

“You haven’t hurt anyone,” Chris
said.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m mad. At myself.”

“I should have went with you, that
day. To California.”

“Your friend had her wedding,”
Chris said.

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything. How is your
friend?”

“We really don’t talk anymore. She
moved to Virginia for her husband’s job.”

“Then yeah, you should have come to
California with me.”

Becky smiled and shook her head.
“I’ve played this scene in my head a million times and it never felt like
this.”

“That’s good. That means it’s real
right now.”

“Real?”

Chris moved an inch towards Becky.
Becky moved an inch towards him. Chris knew the line was going to be crossed. He
looked to the glass of wine. He reminded himself it was Becky’s fourth. That
was a lot of wine. Okay, maybe not a lot, but enough to impair someone’s judgment.

Becky moved another inch.

Chris didn’t.

“Becky...”

“Don’t be an ass, Chris,” Becky
whispered.

“I don’t want to...”

“Kiss me.”

Chris couldn’t deny it. He couldn’t
deny Becky. He wanted her as bad as she wanted the kiss and the company.

Chris pressed his lips to Becky’s
and the flood of emotions was overwhelming. His hand that rested on Becky’s
shoulder squeezed. His other hand touched her cheek, keeping Becky in place. He
didn’t want the kiss to end. Becky opened her lips and closed them. Chris did
the same. He tasted wine on her lips. He took a deep breath. As he exhaled,
Becky moaned. She opened her mouth for a breath and their lips separated for a
second. Their eyes met and time seemed to be suspended in the air.

“Chris, I’m not drunk,” Becky said.

Her lips touched his as she talked.

“Yes you are,” Chris said.

“Not that much. Just a little.”

Chris’s thumb caressed Becky’s
cheek. The temptation of women, drugs, and booze compared nothing to the
temptation of Becky. Here he was in the small kitchen of a small apartment
above a small bakery in a small town... tempted by the most beautiful woman
he’d ever met in his life.

“You’re terrible,” Chris said.

“Terrible...”

Becky moved her legs, one at a
time, and climbed on top of Chris. She sat sideways, her legs dangling off him.
She put a hand to his face, and the softness of her hand grazed against his
fresh five o’clock shadow. Chris expected to not shave for days, long after his
alcohol induced night of regret after signing the divorce papers.

“I should have shaved,” Chris said.

“You seem tougher like this,” Becky
said.

“I am tough.”

“You weren’t tough that night in
the bar.”

“I could’ve taken that guy.”

“No you couldn’t have.”

“Does it matter right now?”

“No.”

“Why are we talking about this?”

“Just trying to figure out if I
want to sleep with you tonight.”

Chris felt his heart skip a beat.
“I, uh...”

“What? Mr. Rockstar has a
conscience now? You wouldn’t take me...”

“Becky,” Chris whispered. “I came
to...”

“What if I teased you a little?”

Becky kissed Chris’s lips. Then his
chin. Then, the delicate touch of her tongue was on his neck.

Chris sighed.

“Maybe I’ll just tempt you a little
too.”

Becky put her free hand to Chris’s
leg, halfway up his leg to be exact. That lasted all of a few seconds before
Becky’s hand moved. Up. Up.
Up.

His body tensed and he knew if she
moved another inch she’d feel the effects of her teasing and tempting.

“Is it working?” Becky whispered.

“I’m a rockstar... women kiss my
neck all the time.”

Becky squinted her eyes. She looked
pissed, but Chris wanted to be the one tempting her now. All notion of reality
seemed to have gone out the door. Then Becky smiled. A flirty, vixen smile. The
kind that could kill Chris if done at the right time and the right place. She
placed her lips to his ear and whispered something.

Chris groaned and stood, taking
Becky with him. Becky let out a small cry.

“That worked,” she said and smiled.

Chris didn’t respond. He kissed
Becky instead. He stood, holding her like he’d wanted to for years and he made
out with her. Minute after minute, his tasted and savored Becky’s mouth, over
and over, thinking about what she said.

Of all the things he’d heard over
the years.

Of all the things he’d wanted to
hear Becky say.

When the kissed stopped, he stared
into Becky’s eyes. He nodded.

“Okay,” he whispered.

And with that he carried Becky to
her bedroom.

The entire walk he thought about
what she said to him. The one thing that broke him into pieces, built him back
up, and gave him faith in love once again.

I
want you to make love to me, Chris.

**

Becky felt Chris’s hands
everywhere. He carried her. He touched her. And in the small walk through her
apartment, she felt her body reacting in a way it hadn’t since the last time
they were together. The wine sloshed through her head and body, making the
decisions a little easier to make, but it was her heart that she followed. Her
heart wasn’t drunk. Becky was older now, understanding, and there would be no
more agreements between she and Chris.

This was simple.

A night together.

To finish everything they’d
started.

Chris placed Becky to her bed,
taking Becky back to that first night. To that night when she had this sexy
rockstar in her apartment and how, out of all nights in her life, she found a
sense of confidence then to act wild, to impress that sexy rockstar.

Here he was again.

Placing her on her bed.

Only he was older too. And Becky
wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable this time with Chris. In fact, she embraced it.
She wanted to be lost in him. She wanted to be held, to be touched, to be taken
care of.

On her bed, Becky propped herself
up on her elbows and stared at the man hovering over her. There was a small
light on Becky’s nightstand, one she always left on. It was a silly thing,
being an adult and worrying about entering a dark room, but finally it served a
purpose. It provided them with just enough light to let Becky see Chris and his
eyes. The way he stared at her. The rush of feelings coming back to her.

This had more meaning to it than
Becky could comprehend. More than she wanted to comprehend. Involving her mind
right then wouldn’t help anything out.

Chris bent his elbows and came down
to Becky. He kissed her. Once with his lips, a soft little kiss, and then with
mouth. He opened his mouth and tasted her lips. His tongue came forward,
teasing Becky until she kissed him back. She took her hand from the bed and
grabbed Chris’s shirt. She sat up and started to stand, but Chris wouldn’t have
it. He kept Becky on the bed. The kissed ended and Becky slipped her hands
under his shirt. She lifted as far as she could until Chris took over, taking
his shirt off. Becky ran her quivering fingers down his body. A body that grew
more muscle with time. A body that was completely man. A body that could
comfort her on her darkest days and coldest nights.

Becky kissed Chris’s stomach. Her
lips moved down, wet kiss after wet kiss. She felt Chris’s jeans get in the way
and her hands knew what to do. Chris stepped back and stopped Becky. She looked
up at him and saw everything she needed to see deep in his eyes. It shook Becky
right to her core. Chris wasn’t doing this out of lust or out of want.

This was what Chris needed.

And
it was exactly what Becky needed too.

Chris lifted Becky’s shirt up and
off. He pressed towards the bed, forcing Becky back to her elbows. She took
shaky breaths, knowing she was under Chris’s full command. He placed a hand to
the bed, right on top of Becky’s. His other hand began to explore her body,
starting at her shoulder and gently caressing down. At her breasts, he cupped
one of her breasts over her bra for a second. He groaned and his fingers kept
going. At her pants, his fingers worked fast, unbuttoning her pants with one
hand. He didn’t even have to look, he just moved with a smoothness that made
Becky burn between her legs. Chris’s hand moved into Becky’s pants, over her
panties, and slid down and around her sensual curve. She felt his strong
fingertips press against her and even over her panties she was ready to come.

As she moaned what felt like the longest
moan of her life, Chris’s hands moved from her pants and off hand. She watched
as the sexy bassist slowly moved to his knees before her. Her eyes widened and
her mouth opened but her breath - and words - were stolen only a second later
when Chris kissed Becky just below her belly button. She watched him move down
the rest of her stomach, feeling his lips, the tip of his tongue, the desire
practically dripping from his body to hers.