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Authors: Juli Page Morgan

Tags: #romance, #historical

Crimson and Clover (32 page)

BOOK: Crimson and Clover
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Again, Jay couldn’t think of a proper response, but Adam wasn’t finished.

“Speaking of Katie, why haven’t you gone to see her? I mean, I’m chuffed to see you, and I agree that you and I need to talk. But don’t you think your wife should take precedence?”

Jay took a careful sip from the cup. “For your information, I did go to see Katie.” He took another sip. “She wasn’t there.” He didn’t like thinking about his visit to the silent house in London. He’d only stayed long enough to ascertain Katie was indeed gone before rushing out and checking into a hotel. Prepared to crawl, beg, plead — do whatever it took — the fact she hadn’t been there had thrown him for a loop. A thought occurred to him and he frowned. “How do you know I haven’t talked to her?”

“She’s living in California.” Adam was watching him over the rim of his coffee cup. “I’ve just come from there. That’s how I know.” He nodded at Jay’s obvious surprise. “I finished recording my album and while I was in the States I thought I’d pop in, see how she was getting on.”

Jay dropped his eyes to his bowl. “And?”

“Go see for yourself. Are you finished?” Adam indicated the dishes in front of Jay.

“Yeah, except for the coffee.” Jay was silent as Adam gathered up the remains of their supper and put the bowls in the deep sink. He sighed and voiced what had been on his mind since he’d discovered the empty house. “I’m afraid to see her.”

“Don’t blame you,” Adam said over the sound of running water. “She still loves you, though. That should give you a place to start.”

Jay raised his eyebrows and stared at Adam’s back. On the one hand, it was good to hear Katie still loved him, but on the other … “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but is that why you’re here and not in California?” Water splashing was the only sound as Adam continued to rinse the dishes without speaking. Jay cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.” The water shut off and Adam turned, drying his hands on a towel. “I just wanted to finish those first.” He tossed the towel onto the counter and leaned against the sink. “But no, that’s not the reason. I know why you asked, though, and it’s cool. I love Katie and I always will. But I was never in love with her.” He smiled. “Of course, I was the last to know it, but I see it now. I’m sorry I was such a horse’s arse about the whole thing, but I guess I felt a little pushed out, you know?”

Jay nodded and ran his finger around the rim of his cup. “I didn’t exactly help the situation.”

“Well, well.” Adam grinned. “And you’ve always insisted you weren’t sorry.”

“I’m not.” Jay looked up at Adam and shrugged. “I’d do it again, because I had to have her. I am sorry about all the shit that went down afterward, though.”

“Good enough.” Adam nodded, still smiling. “But I don’t sweat it now. Even if she hadn’t met you when she did, we wouldn’t have lasted. I was just jealous. But it’s all over and done. Hang on a sec.” He pushed himself away from the sink and left the room. When he returned, he handed Jay a slip of paper. “That’s her address and telephone. I wouldn’t advise calling first, though.”

“Wonderful,” Jay muttered. He handled the paper as if expecting it to explode at any moment. “So you’re saying I should just show up like a genie popping out of a bottle?”

Chuckling, Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “If you know what’s good for you.”

• • •

“Do you have some sort of aversion to comfortable seating?”

“What do you mean?” Adam looked around the front room of the farmhouse, appearing honestly confused. “There are plenty of places to sit.”

“I said comfortable.” Jay shifted on the cracked leather of the couch. A bare board would have had more give than the flat cushions, to say nothing of the way the back dug into the knobs of his spine. “It’s not horrible,” he conceded. “But you could probably use some new stuffing.”

“I’ll consider it.” Adam’s lips twisted with amusement and he nodded toward the corner of the room. “Why don’t you just go over and get it?”

Jay hadn’t been aware Adam had noticed his frequent glances toward the guitar propped against the wall. He sighed. “I haven’t touched one in quite some time.”

“Mm.” Adam lit a cigarette and held up the pack. “Want one?”

“Yeah, please.” Jay caught the cigarettes Adam tossed to him, but the lighter bounced off his fingers and skittered along the floorboards. With a sigh, Jay got up to retrieve it.

“It’s out of tune.” Adam nodded toward the guitar again. “But I assume you remember how to fix that.”

“Don’t be too sure,” Jay muttered, but since he was up, he decided to get the instrument. He returned to the couch and sat down. “Ouch, dammit!”

“What?”

“I think I broke my arse on your hard couch, that’s what.”

Adam laughed while Jay lit a cigarette with one hand, brushing away dust from the guitar’s surface with the other. He left the cigarette in his mouth, squinting his eye against the rising smoke, and strummed his fingers across the strings. His other eye squinted in a wince at the sound and his hand went immediately to the tuning pegs. “How old are these strings, anyway?”

“Not very.” Adam poked at the logs in the fireplace and the flames rose a bit higher. “I bought it just before I went to the States.”

Jay took a drag from the cigarette before placing it in an ashtray. “Why?”

Adam shrugged. “I dunno. I do know a few chords, you know. And without you around, I’ve found I need to write music to go with my lyrics more times than not.”

“Didn’t think about that.” Jay bent his head to the guitar and began tightening the strings, listening for the right pitch. Once the guitar was tuned to his satisfaction, he played a few chords to get the feel of the instrument. The fingers of his left hand cried out in protest and he muttered curses under his breath at the realization that the calluses on the pads of his fingers were almost gone. He tightened his lips and kept playing, determined to begin building them up again.

“‘Smoke on the Water’?” Adam snorted with laughter and started singing. “Slooowww motion Walter … The fire engine guy.”

The music ended in a discordant jangle. Jay looked up, laughing and shaking his left hand — evidently his muscles had joined the calluses on vacation. “That a sample of the lyrics you’re writing?”

“I can’t take credit for that one. Heard it from Nicky.”

“Nicky? How is he?” Jay set the guitar aside and picked up his cigarette. With a sudden rush of pleasure, he realized he felt better than he’d felt in … well, years. Coming to see Adam was the best idea he’d had.

“Doing well. He and Stuart have put together a band called Major Trouble.”

“And George?”

Adam shook his head and pitched his cigarette butt into the fire. “I’ve not heard from him. But to be honest, I think George was relieved when it was over. I think it was getting too intense for him there toward the end.”

“I think you’re right.” Jay nodded in agreement. “He never wanted to be a rock star; he just wanted to play music.”

“Yeah. He was fine with going home to Carol and just enjoying the bread he’d saved. Oh, by the way.” Adam grinned. “Nicky and Maureen patched things up.”

“Yeah?” Jay felt a pleased smile curve his lips. “I’m glad. I hated it when they split up.”

“Me, too.” Adam lit another cigarette. “And Stuart’s getting married to a girl called Amy. So that leaves me the odd one out, the only single Knight.”

“Huh.” Jay picked up the guitar and idly plucked the strings. “Once Katie finishes handing me my head on a plate, I’ll probably be joining you.”

Adam chuckled. “Don’t count on it. She’ll rip you a new one, but she’ll keep you.”

“You seem pretty sure.” Jay kept his eyes on the guitar. “I don’t know how she can possibly forgive what I did.”

Adam leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “For one thing, she loves you. She told me she does and I can’t see why she’d lie. And for another, she’s not unreasonable. Sure, you did her a dirty turn, but once you tell her why you did it … ”

Jay sighed. He’d known the subject would come up and had thought himself prepared to deal with it. But he discovered all his careful words of explanation had faded like so much vapor. If he couldn’t explain to Adam, then what the hell was he going to tell Katie? “I don’t know why. I’m sure I had a million good reasons, but I’m damned if I remember what they were.” His hands stroked the guitar and he found a measure of peace in the familiar feel of the strings and wood. He picked out a subdued version of the intro to “Imperial Jade” without thinking. “It hit me hard when the band broke up. For the first time in ten years no one needed me as far as music went. Then Katie was busy with MKS where she
really
didn’t need me, and … ” He stopped playing and shook his head. “But damn it, I still need her.”

Adam had been watching Jay closely and leaned back in his chair, appearing pleased with what he saw. He crossed his feet at the ankles and grinned. “So get on a plane, get your ass to California and take your medicine like a good boy.”

Jay looked up, surprised to find Adam in the room. He’d been so absorbed by what he was saying, he’d forgotten where he was. Returning Adam’s grin, he finished the last few notes of “Imperial Jade” with a flourish.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Waves washed onto the Malibu shoreline, breaking into foam that looked like dirty wash water before slithering back from the wet sand. Rain had begun falling during the night, a steady shower that looked as if it had settled in for a long stay.

Katie took another sip of coffee, staring out the sliding glass doors. Inertia was starting to creep back in and she tried to summon the strength to combat it. With a sigh, she turned back to the kitchen with a vague thought of getting more coffee. The rest of the day stretched out in front of her, as bleak and uninviting as the sodden sand beyond her deck.

The soft chime of the doorbell intruded on her solitude and she cast a wary glance toward the door. She wasn’t expecting visitors and couldn’t imagine who had found their way to her hideout. Perhaps if she just ignored the summons, whoever it was would go away.

The bell sounded again, twice in quick succession. It appeared she’d have to deal with it whether she wanted to or not. Leaving her coffee on the counter, she went to the door and peered out the peep-hole. The limited view showed her only a distorted image of a black, soft-sided suitcase. Whoever was ringing the bell was leaning against the wall just out of sight. Irritated, Katie unlocked the deadbolt, pulled the door open and turned to stone.

Her first impression was his hair was longer — it brushed the shoulders of his wrinkled linen jacket and rioted across his forehead. His jaw was covered with stubble, his forehead creased with exhaustion and his hazel eyes were dull with sleep.

She focused on Jay’s eyes and found their piercing intensity hadn’t dimmed, sleepy or not. It had been a long time since he’d looked at her that way, and his gaze held her as tight as if he’d reached out and grabbed her with his hands.

Katie took two steps back, swinging the door wider in invitation. Still silent, Jay bent, picked up his bag and walked past her into the house. Katie closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, resting her forehead against the cool wood, her mind whirling. How had he found her? And what did he want? Whatever it was, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

She pushed away from the door and followed him into the living room, giddy as she breathed in the scent of him, more intoxicating than any man-made fragrance ever concocted. He dropped his bag in the middle of the living room and turned to face her with an uncertain frown.

Hoping to diffuse the nervous agitation, she strove for a normal tone of voice. “Coffee?”

Jay jumped like a man yanked out of a dream and nodded. “Yeah, please.”

She’d almost forgotten the way his voice seemed to slide over her, touching her in a way that was almost physical. Her knees threatened to give way, but she forced her shaking legs to take her into the kitchen. She fumbled a cup out of the cabinet and clutched the smooth porcelain, willing her nerves to settle. When she thought she’d gained enough control not to scald herself or Jay with the hot coffee, she filled the cup and took it to him where he sat on the couch. Lines of weariness etched his face, and Katie bit her lip. She held out the coffee. “Here you are.”

Jay took the cup from her. “Thanks, love.”

Katie stepped across his outstretched legs and sat beside him, careful to keep a safe distance between them. The shock was wearing off and a rising anger was taking its place. She tried to swallow it down and glanced over at him. “I don’t want to sound rude, but you look tired.”

A ghost of a smile touched his face. “Tired doesn’t even begin to cover it. I can’t remember the last time I slept.”

“Do you think you need coffee? I mean … ”

“Yes,” he interrupted. “I need coffee.” His eyes met hers. “I hope you have a lot made.”

“I can make more.” Her words were clipped and short as her anger tested the breaking point of her restraint.

Jay lowered his head and regarded his cup. “I realize my showing up like this is somewhat of a shock.”

Katie’s laugh was bitter. “Nothing you do shocks me anymore, Jay.” She crossed her arms and glared at the fireplace. She heard Jay’s deep sigh as he put the cup on the table.

“I want us to talk.”

The innocent statement set Katie off like a firecracker. “Well, how bloody thoughtful of you! I can’t imagine why you’d think we need to talk. You certainly didn’t feel this urge when you packed up all your shit and walked out on me without a word!”

Jay’s lips compressed. “Go ahead. Get it out of your system.”

Katie thought the top of her head was going to fly off. “How dare you?” She exploded off the couch, fury making her feel ten feet tall. “How the fuck dare you come into my house after what you’ve done and try to patronize me?”

“I’m not patronizing you, Katie.” An obstinate look crept onto his face. “I’m trying to have a decent, civil conversation … ”

“Oh, bullshit!” she interrupted. “You’ve had plenty of chances to be decent and civil, but this isn’t one of them. You don’t deserve decent and civil. You broke my heart, you son-of-a-bitch!” The slight shake of his head made her want to shriek. “Don’t deny it, Jay!”

BOOK: Crimson and Clover
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