Sidewalk Flower (28 page)

“So, come on inside and I’ll give you a
tour.
 
Then if you’d like, we can head
down to the water.”

It took the whole of three minutes to
give him the tour.
 
The cabin was tiny in
comparison to Jaxon’s villa.
 
But filled with much nicer things like peace and quiet.
 
The waves lapped in a chorus of hearty
splashes below and to the sides of the cabin walls.
 
She hoped Lucky didn’t mind the lack of
stretching room.
 
Someday she’d ask what
his place was like back in Tennessee.

“So, that’s it.”
 

“It’s perfect.
 
I feel like we’re hovering over earth’s
private pool.”

She couldn’t have thought of a better way
to say it herself except to add, “And we’re together.”
 
Oh boy, she’d lit up his face with that
one.
 
The world needed to go on and
invent a manly word for pretty and rugged.
 
Prugged.
 
No, that sounded horrible.
 
Like she’d
gone and knocked up her boy…friend.
 
Her boyfriend.
 
How
goofy was the smile hurting her face right now?
 

“How about we get some
blankets and head down below.”
 
A
girl could try.

“Blankets?”

“Yeah, now that the sun’s gone down,
we’re gonna need them.
 
Trust me.”

Lucky didn’t argue.
 
Instead, he grabbed an armful of heavy
blankets and then followed her down to the beach, closely.
 
Someone had quickened their stride this time.
 
She smiled to herself.

“This looks like a good spot.
 
Not too crowded,” she said through her sleeve
that covered her mouth.
 

Lucky laughed.
 
Okay, so she was being sarcastic.
 
There wasn’t another soul to be seen for
miles.
 

He turned to stare out at the midnight
blue water that teased the shore and then shrank away, only to come back and
taunt it some more.
 
“I can’t believe
this.
 
What are the odds that my first
trip to the beach could be so perfect?”

“Pretty crazy odds.
 
But I’ll take them.
 
I’ve never even been out here when it was
this deserted.
 
Maybe somebody up there
does like me.
 
Ha, it’s probably you they
like.
 
I’m just lucky to be here with
you.”

“Trista, don’t say that.”
 
He stepped closer to her as she kicked off
her flojos and laid a blanket down over the soft lumps of the sand. “Trust me,
darlin’, there are plenty of people up there who like you.”

She finished laying the second blanket
down and then sat, patting the spot to her left for Lucky.

“Oh yeah, like who?”
 
Instead of taking him seriously, she focused
on smoothing down the broken pieces of shell that beautifully littered the sand
but poked her in the butt where she sat.

Anyway, they were just words.
 
Their beach clock was ticking and she wanted
him to stop talking so they could cuddle and kiss.
 
She imagined running her fingers over his
slicked back hair and down through his ponytail under the gorgeous
moonlight.
 

Lucky sat down and tucked two of the
blankets around their legs and hips before lying back on the sand with
her.
 
Was he nervous?
 
She supposed he might be, just a little.
 
His soul patch stuck out under the bottom lip
he was working.

“Well, for starters, your mom.
 
And your father.
 
And my mom.”
 

She forgot she’d asked the question and
let the back of her head thud from her hands onto the sand.
 
“I never had the honor of meeting your mom,
Lucky.
 
And my father died before I was
born.”
 

“That doesn’t mean they don’t still love
you.
 
My mom would love anyone who meant
this much to me.
 
And as much as I can
tell you’ve got your doubts, you have to know God loves you, too.”

Uh, no, she didn’t have to know
that.
 
Did they really have to talk about
God and the love of a father she’d never met right now?
 
Gramma had already tried to enlighten her on
those subjects.
 
If God loved her and was
real, she wouldn’t disrespect him by faking her allegiance.
 
She’d at least give him that much.
 

“Lucky, it’s already been a heavy
night.
 
Can we keep it simple?”
 
She looked up at him with a pleading smile
and eyes.

“Sure.
 
Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all preachy.
 
Oh.
 
I almost forgot about the
thing I wanted to tell you.”

Trista giggled.
 
The ocean had a way of affecting people like
that.
 
She’d visited these shores many
times throughout her tenure with the band.
 
Always arriving with a heavy heart and always leaving feeling reminded
of how small her problems were.
 
She
could throw it all away when she was here.
 
And it swallowed up the problems like they were nothing more than crumbs
on a plate.
 

“It’s okay.
 
You don’t have to talk about it now if you’d
rather just relax.”

 
“No, I’d really like to tell you, well, see
what you think really, about an offer I got yesterday.”

Her eyes popped and she grabbed onto his
wrists with jubilant fingers.
 
His
meeting!
 
“Did you get a backer?
 
Are you gonna be able to set up a shop out
here?”

“Not exactly.
 
That actually fell through pretty
quickly.
 
It took the guy less than ten
minutes to explain to me why he wasn’t going to support my venture.”

“Oh.
 
I’m sorry, Lucky.
 
But I don’t
understand
,
you seem very okay with that.”
 
She let go of his wrists, confused.

“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be this
time around.”

Her face fell.
 
Was she sadder about his not sticking around
for much longer, or worse, that he seemed so blasé about things not working
out?

“That really sucks.”
 
Should she put her true feelings out
there?
 
He might just want to enjoy the
time they had tonight.
 
She had all but
told him this was it.
 
Maybe he’d seen
the craziness of her world and had decided one night was all he could handle.
 
If it was all the time she had, she wanted
him to at least know the truth.
 
“I was
hoping you’d have stuck around a little longer.
 
You’ve kind of grown on me.”

Lucky leaned into her, close enough for a
kiss.
 
“Well, that’s really what I wanted
to talk to you about.
 
I was offered a
job as a carpenter on the Sin Pointe crew.
 
It’s mine, lead carpenter, if I want it.
 
I just have to say yes.”

She fought to be happy because this was
the best news but a touch of fear sucker punched her.
 
“Really?” she squeaked out.
 

“Yes.
 
But I haven’t given my answer, I thought just in case you were sick of
me…”

“Oh, never, never.
 
I just, I’m shocked.
 
How did Vance know?
 
I mean, have you met him yet?”

“Um, no.
 
He’s the band manager right?
 
No, Jaxon offered me the job.”

The mention of the name silenced her for
a moment and then she began again.

“Oh, okay.
 
Well, that makes sense.”
 
She supposed Vance would go along with
whatever Jaxon proposed, even if it meant creating a new job for Lucky. After
all, it had been Jaxon who asked the same for a mere sixteen-year-old girl, a
much more ludicrous request and Vance had gone along with that one.
 
But, they already had a lead carpenter.
 
Jeff was a sweetie, dread locks and all.
 
He would probably be promoted to Lead-lead
carpenter for his troubles, and he’d be fine with it.
 
The crew would accommodate Lucky as they
would anyone else invited into the inner sanctum of the Sin Pointe family.
 

That wasn’t what worried her.
 
What did was everything else.
 

She had her doubts whether Lucky could
handle this kind of life.
 
On the road,
he’d either be made or broken.
 
Or more
commonly, broken and then re-made.
 

“So what are you gonna say?”

He let a palm full of sand slip through
his fingers.
 
“I’m leaning toward yes.”

“You do know that there’s a lot of
traveling involved.”
 
She buried her own
hand under the cool beaded sand next to his.

“Yes, but Jaxon said the road crew
typically travels by bus.”

Her hand was now on his knee and when he
looked up at her she said, “You’d travel across the country—we’re talking six
months of the year—in a bus?
 
To be a
carpenter when you could be home running your own business?
 
Lucky, have you really thought this through?”

“Yes, darlin’.
 
I have.”

Did he know that term melted her every
time?

“Lucky, have you ever made love on the
beach?”

She knew the answer.
 
She hoped to change it tonight as she walked
her fingers up his thigh.

Chapter
Eighteen

The ocean waves taunted them, unlike any
creek he’d ever trailed back home.
 
The
later it got, the closer the tide rolled in, seducing its way to their feet and
leaving a light trail of bubbly foam in its wake.
 
The damp night air was crisp and it left an
even chillier mark when mixed with the ocean water.
 
Had he not been so wrapped up in Trista and
their blankets, he would have noticed the soggy feeling sooner.
 
He reached around to tug her out of the
water’s reach when she nearly kneed him.
 

“Ticklish?”
 

The light sound of Trista’s giggling as
he slowly drew one finger down the side of her neck and then back up thrilled
him.
 
But she quickly buried her cheek
into her shoulder, denying him any further access to her apparent sensitive
skin.
 
He should let her be but a night
like this was rare.
 
In all his
thirty-two years, he’d never felt anything so right and perfect.
 
Made even better by the fact they were
someplace Trista had felt safe enough to bring him.
 

“I love your shirts.”
 
She ran her finger over the western detailing
of his red and black shirt.
 
“They fit
you so well.
 
I wonder if I could make
you one of these.”

It wasn’t sexy talk, but it was sensual
and intimate the way she invited him into her world and wanted to make him a
part of hers in all these new and different ways.
 

“I would love to have something you made
for me.
 
I didn’t realize you like to sew
that much.”
 
He eyed her dress
appreciatively,
thankful for the loose style that stimulated
his man’s brain. He remembered how the things she kept hidden under there fit
perfectly in his hands.
 
Her small waist
and curvy bottom had felt amazing their first night in the hotel as he’d
explored her body.
 
But now, he craved
being able to see her.
 
Their spot on the
beach was incredible, but when he pictured all he desired of her, she was laid
out on his bed, naked and beautiful, with his lamp turned on.
 
He’d untangle her hair and fan it out over
his pillow, maybe trail a curl or two down between his fingers like she enjoyed
doing to his.
 
He’d let the hair go once
he made it to her breasts so he could gently roll her nipples between his
fingers and thumb.
 
They were probably
the prettiest shade of pink and this time, there’d be no lacy bra hiding them
from his view, his touch,
his
lips.
 
Looking at her dress falling against her
petite chest now, he knew everything she had would make a perfect fit.
 
He flexed his hand to ease the ache and did
his best to pay attention to what she was saying.
 
But that meant concentrating on her
mouth.