Trouble in the Making (8 page)

Johnny felt the heat of a blush flood his cheeks at the compliment. He’d heard it hundreds of times over the years, but it never failed to humble him. He’d had a long and very successful career in an industry that was changing daily, if not hourly. Vinyl had gone away, so had cassettes. Compact discs he was all right with and he had smiled a little when vinyl had started to come back with a lot of other retro things, but digital music…? He just didn’t know. He was old school. Liked the paper and pencil in his hands, liked the piano and the guitar to make a melody on. He liked the physical feel of a recording. He liked the album covers and the sleeves with lyrics and artwork. A bit of something got lost in the digital age and he missed it.

He wasn’t washed up yet, but he was headed down the path of has-been. He was okay with that. He would change where he had to and he had enough money saved up and invested that he could live well above comfort for the rest of his life.

“I appreciate it.”

“Hey, uh, think I could get an autograph? You can sign this twenty you just gave me. I won’t ever be spending it.”

Johnny laughed and took the pen the man handed him. He signed his name with a flourish and added the date. The guy was still going on about it as he walked down the hall.

The aroma of pancakes hit Johnny as he walked back into the room. Blackberries. Bacon. Maple. Liz had never been able to resist anything with blackberries and this would certainly wake her up. As seniors in high school, several members of their class would meet up for breakfast at a little bistro, and the times that Liz would go, she’d order the exact thing Johnny had waiting for her now. He couldn’t wait to see the smile on her face when she realized what her hunger would be sated with.

He resumed his seat, but not before he picked up his sheets of music and his pencil again. Words and chords filled a page and a half. He wanted to get the rest of what was in his head down on paper before Liz woke up.

Another half page was done when stirring on the bed caught his attention. He lifted his gaze to find Liz just coming around. He smiled. A few more quick notes and he was able to put the sheets down. What was left to write could wait until he was on the plane again. Liz would get his full attention now that she was awake.

He watched from his corner position as she shifted under the duvet, then stretched out her legs. Her toes peeked from beneath the covering before being drawn back in. Liz lifted her head and looked around, finally connecting with him. He was still smiling, even as he realized he’d been such an idiot not to see it all along. She was the only woman he cared about, the only one to ever see him for who he really was.

“Hi there,” he said softly, coming to the edge of the chair cushion.

“Hi,” she said around a yawn. “I… Is that…? Do I smell…?” Liz sat up and sniffed. “Pancakes?” Her eyes scanned the room until they found the brown paper sack that contained overflowing Styrofoam containers. “Oh my God.” She pointed, then looked at Johnny. “Are those from…?”

Johnny inclined his head. “Yeah.”

“But how did you get them here? That restaurant is in San Marco and we’re in St. Augustine.”

“I’m famous,” he said with a straight face and a shrug. He used his fame for many things and most of them had been self-serving in the past, but this, for her, it was one of the most selfless things he’d used it for.

“And you bought me pancakes using your fame?”

“I did.” He got up, stalked slowly to the end of the bed, took Liz’s face in his hands and kissed her. Gentle at first, his calloused, guitar-playing hands caressed her smooth skin, then sifted through her sleep tangled hair to hold her lips to his and deepen the kiss. She moved to wrap her arms around him and he stepped back, laughing at her confused pout. He tapped her on the end of the nose and reached around for the boxes of breakfast. Or rather, lunch now.

He sat on the side of the bed, pulled the first container from the bag and opened it. Her eyes widened when she got a peek inside. Four buttermilk pancakes filled with blackberries were topped with blackberry compote and two plastic-capped cups of maple syrup rested on the side.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Not just for you, sweetheart. I was a little hungry myself. You’re not the only one who worked up an appetite. You are, however, the only one who took a little snooze.” He punctuated his statements by dipping his finger into the blackberry compote and painting her lips with it. She parted them and took his finger on her tongue, licking the sticky, fruity syrup off. She followed that move with the one of licking the same sticky, fruity syrup off her lips after he removed his finger.

She was teasing him. She was wrapped in the hotel room’s duvet, her body well sexed, her eyes still slightly dreamy, though more so now from the gesture of having had her favorite pancakes delivered from an hour away and still moderately warm at that, and she was teasing him. With her tongue. By licking her lips.

“You’re a naughty girl, Liz. You deserve to be punished.”

“No. No I don’t.”

Johnny chuckled and unwrapped his silverware. The second call he’d made had been to the front desk to let them know he’d need two sets of utensils sent up and set outside the room. Sure enough, it had been sitting on a tray beside the door when he walked the delivery guy back out the door. He handed hers over. “You do. You’re being a tease. You deliberately teased me with the way you licked your lips and sucked on my finger. Oh yes, darling, you do deserve to be punished.”

“What about the way you teased me? Or… What about the way you used your fame for pancakes. Is this part of your wooing plan? Pancakes? With blackberries?”

The banter. He’d missed it. They were always, above all things, very good friends and something, some part of that, got lost in the translation of growing up and moving on. He wouldn’t trade her friendship for anything, but he wanted more.

“I can’t believe you bought pancakes for us.”

Johnny looked over at her. “We’ve got to eat, baby.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I know.” And he did. She’d been married just as he had. They’d talked about it over the years and how both had fallen apart. Sparks started and died out. Life moved on. A forkful of pancakes were halfway to Liz’s mouth when she started sniffing at the air. “I smell bacon.”

Johnny laughed and guided the mess on her fork into her mouth before it made a huge mess on the bed and on her. “Good Lord, woman.”

“Are you hiding it?” she asked after she swallowed the bite of pancakes.

“Why would I hide it? You’d sell me out for coffee and bacon. I’d have to be stupid to hide either from you.”

“You’re right, I would. So hand it over.” All Johnny did was smile at her and cut into his own pancakes. Just as he took a bite, she poked him. “Hey.”

“You have definitely not mellowed with age.”

Liz grinned, her teeth purple from the blackberries. Johnny should have been put off by the sight, but he wasn’t. He was charmed and turned-on by it. “Are you surprised?”

He produced a wax paper package of bacon from the bag. “Not in the least,” he replied and offered her the bacon she’d so delicately asked for.

“Mmmm. Delicious.” She chewed and swallowed.

Though her introverted personality had been widely discussed between them, when she was comfortable with someone or with a particular situation, she would blossom and become the life of the party. People would be drawn to her, to her laughter, to her openness. He would love to bring that side of her out more. “Are you happy you went to the reunion?”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

Johnny shrugged. “Humor me for a minute?”

“Okay. Yes, I am. Why?”

“You know I went because of you, right? When I saw on that social site they set up that you were going to be there, that’s when I decided I was going to go.”

“Really? Not to see Kay?”

“Uh. No.” Johnny forced himself not to grimace at the mention of his high school sweetheart.

“Why me?”

“I don’t know exactly. Ever missed someone who you didn’t even know you missed until you saw them again? Talked to them again?”

“Yes. I felt that with you.”

Her admission made him smile. “That’s how I felt about you. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed you in my life all these years until I knew I was going to see you again.”

Liz stared at him, her gaze steady, her pancakes all but forgotten. “You were mine, you know. I hadn’t completely decided on going until you said you were. I honestly didn’t care.”

“There wasn’t anyone you wanted to see? Really?”

Liz shook her head. “Only you.”

“I’m flattered.” He meant it. “Thank you.”

“Oh stop. I had the biggest crush on you and you never even noticed me. Not like that anyway.”

She was right. He hadn’t. Not until five years ago. “I would say I’m sorry, but I don’t think I am.”

Her cheeks colored, and for a moment he felt bad for the admission. “Ouch.”

“No. Not ouch. You and I, we didn’t ruin our friendship by becoming something more. I was not the man I am today and you weren’t the woman you have turned out to be. I cared a great deal for you then, but that night I kissed you in the gym at the reunion, the time was right.”

“Five years is a long time.”

“Why do you think I’ve been wooing you? You needed it. You needed me to be patient and steady.”

“Now I’ve got it,” she said softly. Johnny knew in an instant that she wasn’t talking about wooing. No, she was talking about him.

“Yes. You do.”

“Until now, we’ve only been friends.” Territory they’d been covering. She was getting at something.

“Nothing wrong with that.” She eyed him and he fought not to squirm under her unblinking stare. She might be small in stature, quiet and, in general, unassuming, but she could make anyone squirm with her unblinking green eyes. He gave up and moved closer, close enough he could kiss her blackberry-stained lips. “And now it’s so much more than friends.”

“One morning of sex does not a relationship make.”

“Negative Nelly. We’ve been in a relationship for a long time. Maybe not formal, maybe skirting the edges, but we’ve been in a relationship. It just hadn’t been consummated. Until now.”

Liz squinted in his direction, skepticism written all over her face, but she didn’t say anything else. She cut into her lukewarm pancakes and lowered her eyes to the food. “It’s not awkward,” she inserted into the silence before she took another bite.

“No.” He didn’t have to ask what she meant. He knew. You weren’t friends with someone for such a long time without learning how to read them, how they talked, how their personalities worked, how they interpreted information.

“I was afraid it would be.”

“I know, but I didn’t have any doubts. We’ve had a fairly solid foundation to build on.”

“Is that why you asked if I was happy?”

“Yes. That’s when this, us ending up here eventually, that’s when this began for me.”

“I think I’m full,” she said finally, putting her pancakes down on the bed beside her. She wiped her mouth and pushed the container an arm’s length away. “If I eat any more, I’ll bust.”

“They were good, though?”

“Beyond good, Johnny. Thank you.”

Her gratitude, her satisfied smile, touched him. “I’m glad and you’re welcome.” He too was finished eating. He closed both containers again and put them back on the dresser, then stretched out on the bed with his head propped on his arm. “How’s work for you?” The mood had changed slightly.

Liz lay back. The duvet was still wrapped around her, but part of it slid off her shoulder, revealing tantalizing bits of her body, which teased him mercilessly. Each time she moved, another revealing of skin happened, and she seemed oblivious to the effect it was having on him. “It’s not too busy right now. I’m putting together a new workshop for Rollins College next semester and working on several proposals for my editor.”

“What are they about?”

“The books or the workshops?”

“Both.”

“I want to do a workshop on having multiple projects going at once, and I want to do one on writing truth. Digging deep and writing from where you hurt or where you’re happiest. It’s to expand range.”

“Maybe I should take one. What about the book proposals?”

“Nope. You know I don’t discuss projects until they’re finished.”

“Oh come on. Just a hint?”

Liz swatted at him. “You ask me this every time. I’ve never broken that rule with myself and I don’t plan to start now. Not even for you.”

“You’re suspicious? Really?”

“Just a little. It works for me. The less I discuss it, the better it seems to turn out.”

“You still enjoy it then?”

“I do. I love it. It seems to fit me better than anything else I think I could have tried.”

“Would you be surprised to learn that I have read several of your books?”

Her eyes grew wide. “You have?”

“Yes. I love them. I see you in every one of them.”

“Johnny, I…”