Strung Out (Needles and Pins #1) (66 page)

“How did that get here?” She turned her questioning eyes his way. But when the boys both looked up the steep hill, she followed the plane of their gaze and reeled slightly with the realization. “Wrecked?”

Gage nodded and they continued on the trail. They stopped for water and to rest. He drank his down in less than a minute and returned the plastic bottle to his backpack. After cautioning Seth and Jeter not to go so far ahead that they were out of shouting distance, he took a seat on the trail.

“All good?” She dropped to sit cross-legged beside him. “We can start back.”

“I probably should anyway, so I can get everything ready for the session tomorrow.” He was stretching the truth, but damn he was more out of shape than he wanted to admit.

“So we’re heading back?” Seth who had only taken a few steps away clarified.

“Soon as Scar catches her breath.”

She shoved him. Seth and Jeter decided to start back down the trail ahead of them and soon disappeared from sight.

“How will I know you’re keeping up the schedule when I leave?” Her eyes danced while she sipped, and he took an interest in the touch of the bottle to her lips.

This was their first day hiking. Yesterday, he’d swum laps. All in the name of moving the toxins through and out of his body faster. Added to the exercise routine was a concoction of some herbal shit she was making him drink a few times daily, which tasted like crap but relaxed his jitters, as well as cleaned his body.

“You can’t know without staying.” He joked in answer.

“I can have Seth check on you.”

“And I can bribe Seth to fib.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“He might.”

Her smile held, but now she looked into his face, seeming to gauge how serious his end of this banter was.

“Let’s face it.” He arched his brows for effect. “The only way to be sure is to stay and see to it yourself.”

Her gaze dropped to her water. She took a last sip and leaned close enough to him to stuff it into the backpack he’d let drop behind him. When she declined a comeback gibe, he spoke again, this time in all seriousness.

“I was thinking about this. If you don’t have to be back, and you want to stay, we could go to my lake cabin right after the meeting with my lawyers next week. The lake is private, so no paparazzi can hang around, and there is security gate access to get into the road where my house is.” He couldn’t read her face. “But if you absolutely have to get back, I swear, I was just joking. I’ll still drink the icky cherry juice and smoothies and put in the exercise time.” She remained quiet and focused on the cream and peach palette of the setting sun. “I won’t bribe Seth.”

A smile quirked her lips. A breeze stirred her hair, and she hooked the tendril with a finger, shoving it unceremoniously back into her ponytail clip. “Figured you’d be sick of looking at your little sister by now.”

Her words were light, but she glanced at him with that sideways look she sometimes had.
Was she asking what it seemed she was asking?
And if so, was it conscious or unconsciously? She played with her forefinger, drawing squiggles in the sandy dirt. Watching her, he wondered if it was time to draw their lines in the sand—or more aptly, erase them—so to speak.

“I haven’t seen my little sister in a long, long time.”

That caught her attention. Her chin swiveled until she directly faced him, and then he watched a flush creep up her neck. Outside of music, he’d never been known for his timing. And now as they sat like Indians on a hiking trail while watching the sky slowly turn, he wondered if he was fucking things up with his admission. But he couldn’t stop himself now that he’d started. His gaze fell on her lips, which were barely glossed from a coating of Chap Stick he’d tried to pretend he wasn’t watching her apply in the Escalade earlier.

“I want to kiss you, Scar. A real kiss. One that’s not a mistake a minute later. One that’s not a shotgun hit…”

Her lashes flew up, unveiling her gaze even more. A school of emotions swam in her eyes, and he took in her desire-dilated pupils. Her chin lifted a bit and she seemed to sway ever so slightly his way—or was he tilting her way? He wasn’t sure, but he was never one to let opportunity pass. Angling his head and dropping his lips, he fit them to hers.

Mmh. Lemon Chap Stick
.

N
othing had ever felt as right as this. Except, the last time they’d kissed. Thoroughly, his lips caressed hers before he glided his tongue over her bottom lip and then beyond to touch hers. Eagerly, their tongues mingled together. His palm cupped the back of her head, and his fingers curled, parting the hair to rub against her scalp.

When they slowed for air, his eyes opened into hers and then closed again when they resumed the kiss. Somehow she ended up in his lap, and with both of his arms now banded protectively around her as they kissed, her emotions rocketed to a new level.

“Stay. Okay? Let’s figure this shit out between us…”

His breath warmed her lips as he spoke, and she realized she was nodding. That her body was answering even before she found her voice. “Okay.” The word was a whispered agreement.

“Hey, I forgot to get the—” Seth broke off as he rounded a bend and viewed them. “…keys.” Jeter was right on his heels.

Horrified, she scooted from his lap and both She and Gage shot to their feet. Gage tossed the fob to Seth, and as the boys moved beyond their sight, their conversation drifted back.

“Damn… You got that right… Thought that was
your
dad’s girlfriend…”

She was brushing the dirt from the seat of her shorts when Jeter’s words settled around them, and Gage bent, branding her with another kiss.

“…brother and sister…”

The teens were far enough away that their exchange was now a mumble, but that much she understood and jerked away from Gage again. His amused look told her he had heard too, but instead of being upset, he found it funny.

The sky had burned to orange when they reached the vehicle, which Gage had parked in a cul-de-sac near a friend’s house. He was breathing hard again, but that didn’t stop him from following her around to the passenger side and chivalrously opening her car door. After closing her in, he paused at the tailgate to toss in the backpack.

“Are we going straight to my house?” Seth asked, once the car was in motion, and expounded his inquisition. “Jeter’s dad is picking him up.”

“Sure,” Gage replied. He’d rested a hand on the back of her seat as he had reversed from his parking place, and before it fell completely away, he brushed her shoulder. “Listen,” his voice rose enough to carry to the back seat, “not to be awkward, but I should tell you… My father and Scarlette’s mother were married for a while a long time ago. We were once stepbrother and sister. Just thought it was important that you know the
step
part.

“Sure. Whatever,” Seth returned, seemingly unconcerned and then began to converse with Jeter about a skateboard they both wanted.

She turned the AC vent to blow directly on her heated face, and Gage’s hand briefly left the clutch to close over hers.

What was going to happen now that they’d kissed?

A dark SUV was already parked in Colt’s driveway and Gage parked a car length behind it. The boys gathered their things and they all exited en masse. Gage needed to speak with Colt and she was tagging along.

One of the back doors of the guest vehicle swung open as she neared and then immediately closed when Jeter climbed into the car from the other side.

She waved in passing even though she couldn’t see the occupants through the heavy window tint, and the car pulled away.

They followed Seth inside and the teen veered off down a long hallway after greeting his father. Colt was on his feet when they entered the den area, and he greeted Scarla with a squeeze to her arms and dropped a casual kiss to her lips.

This was surprising, but she figured they had accelerated to a more familiar greeting phase. After all, since she’d been in La La land, she had witnessed even heterosexual women greeting each other with a peck on the lips.

Gage however, was not happy. “Damn it all, Powers. If you don’t keep off of her…”

Colt threw her a wink, as if to say he was only poking the bear and moved to stand before a stylish drink caddy. “What to drink?”

Gage shook his head and she followed suit. Soon the two guys were deep into talk about the upcoming session. Thankfully, they didn’t adjourn to the studio. She sat on the couch and flipped through a Rolling Stone magazine until she came to the cover story about Fire Flight. It was easy to tune them out, and keep her naughty thoughts from wandering back to the hiking trail as she read the article and pored over the pictures.

She felt it again―the intense change in the relationship between her and Gage―when he held the car door open and closed her inside the dark vehicle. But the moment he was inside, he turned up the satellite radio and began to sing along with the current song. She enjoyed his voice and even joined in.

The next time she felt a bit of panic was inside the house, in the same room she’d apologized for her kiss the night they’d been to Outpost Road. Gage finished rearming the alarm and settled one hand on each of her shoulders as he dogged her down the narrow hallway to the main area of the house.

“Want to practice?” He was speaking of the song she had now learned from start to finish, but her naughty mind conjured up far more intimate things to practice. Subsequently, she felt her twentieth blush of the day and was feeling thankful he was behind her when he hugged her to him. They had reached the intersection with the wide hallway. Although she savored the feel of her back to his front, and the possessive wrap of his arms, she knew she had stiffened when his breath brushed her ear. “Don’t you say it.”

“But—”

Spinning her around, he covered her lips with his.

Where do we go from here?

“Let go, Scar.” The kiss was gentle, a mere few brushes of his mouth against hers. “Don’t think about it. Just take this one step at a time.”

She nodded. “I guess I’ll make your smoothie and then practice a minute while you get ready for tomorrow.”

They separated, him going to his studio and her to the kitchen. She used a pestle to grind a couple of the fresh ingredients and then added them to the blender. After pouring the mixture into a plastic tumbler with a lid, she set it in the fridge to chill for the next day because Gage swore that cold was the only way he could stomach it. Next, she poured a cup of tart cherry juice over crushed ice and carried it with her to the studio.

He wasn’t a fan of the juice, either. She could tell by his face each evening, but he didn’t complain, and he didn’t gag it down as he did the smoothies. Tonight he tipped the glass and downed it quickly with a slight shudder as the last sip disappeared.

Gage discarded the glass on a table and resumed his tapping on a laptop across the room. She sat on the couch, and hunched over the guitar she’d been using all week. She could blaze through the piece now, and had begun elaborating measures with more measures. She had figured out the chords he’d taught her could be used up and down the frets and of course, combined differently. Several times, he looked her way and flashed a grin of encouragement and praise. After a bit, he closed the laptop, selected a guitar and spent a few minutes tuning it before closing it into a case and setting it near the door. He also packed up the laptop, zipped various objects such as data drives into the pockets, and propped it next to the guitar.

“Guess it’s time to learn a few new chords.” He settled beside her, and her body responded with an extra prickle of awareness on top of the one it had already developed where he was concerned. “And to decide if you want to learn a new song on this tuning, or be serious and learn to really play.”

“What do you mean this tuning?”

“It’s an alternate tuning. Almost anything on it sounds good.” He demonstrated by barring his fingers up and down the frets as he strummed. “But if you’re serious about playing, you should learn the chords for real in regular tuning.”

Pondering the excited and alive feelings coursing through her when she played, she only took a moment to decide. “I want to really play.” His face lit up the second her answer resonated. “But tomorrow.” She hopped up to replace the guitar on the wall.

“Yeah. Early bed tonight.” His husky tenor caused her heart to pound. Deluged with bed images involving him, she didn’t turn to face him right away. Thankfully. Because he went on to finish his thought, and it had apparently been innocent. “I hate when they schedule these things early in the day.”

“One p.m. is not early.” She swiveled around and relished teasing him about his sleep habits.

“Least it’s not before noon,” he conceded of his upcoming session with the band. His eyes were sliding all over her face. She felt silly standing there, but couldn’t make herself join him on the couch, so she pretended an interest in a framed array of guitar picks. “Those are all from musicians I’ve jammed with over the years. I’ve got a box full that need to be added.” She nodded and moved to a platinum record. Self-explanatory, so instead, he said, “Dad invited us to dinner tomorrow evening. Want to go to the studio with me and then we can meet him? Or I can send a car back for you once we’re done at Noise City.”