T's Trial: A Bone Cold--Alive Novel (27 page)

“And have you explained this to Tib? He doesn’t act like he knows these game rules.”

She shook her head. “Nothing’s pushed me to. Not until now. We’ve just fallen into each other’s lives. I guess he’s been afraid to push because he knows what I’ll say.”

“Has he never asked you to marry him?”

“No, he asked. He waited until my official year of mourning was over, then began courting me in earnest. But when he would ask, I would say no, and one thing led to another and we’re in a rut.” She toyed with the front of his shirt, hesitated, then went on. “I need to ask you something.”

“Ask.” His heart skipped. The variety of questions she could impose made his about Tib seem innocent.

“What does happen now?” She didn’t look at him. “You’re Eddie T—mega international star and I own a convenience store. In a week you go back to your world. I always knew that, but it’s a bigger world than I reckoned on.”

“Lyla, look at me.” She didn’t. “Come on now, we’ve been intimate. No sense hiding your eyes.” Reluctantly, she raised them to his. They shone in the near dark. “We’re going to work this out. We’re adults. I’ve not acted like one for as long as you have, but I’ve had the crash course.” She smiled, blinked her eyes, and the tears washed over. He bent his head to kiss them off her cheeks. Salty tears mixed with the smell of her perfume. He felt his arousal begin but fought it. “We’ll work it out. If we have a hard time, we’ll just get those paragons of adult virtue, Fletch and Bertie, to help us.”

“Oh, I can just hear that.” She laced her hands behind his neck again and balanced back from him. “I hate to burst your idyllic bubble, but I hardly think those two will be on the same side.”

“What about being on our side?”

“I don’t see it.”

“Time will tell.” He gathered her back in his arms, pecked the end of her nose. “Do you have to go in or can we go below once more?” He moved his hips against hers.

“It’s nearly three o’clock, Sam. I need to be there when Harrison wakes up. Got to put the coffee on at six.”

“So I have to wait?”

“So do I.” She started to pull from him.

“What if I come in about ten in the morning and we retire to the back room for a quickie?”

She laughed. “Don’t even consider it.” She went over to the wheel and turned the key to the engine. He came up behind her and clasped his arms around her waist, rested his chin on her head. “I love you, Lyla.”

“I love you, Sam.”

“Well, just remember that because I think you’re right. It’s not all going to be as smooth sailing as tonight.”

*  *  *

The murmur of low voices brought Fletch out of his nap in the breakfast room. He peeked over the top of the cafe curtains and watched T and Lyla. She leaned against the driver’s door and his body pinned her there as they kissed and caressed. When she pushed him back, he went unwillingly, but he went. Fletch mentally recalled the times he’d seen T press his advantage, use his idol-dom, to get just exactly the sexual favor he desired. But now he stood away from the Jeep, waved sheepishly to her as she spun the vehicle around him and disappeared down the drive. He whistled his way up the steps and into the house.

“Dad, I’m home!” T stood in the living room and called out. “Come on, Fletch, I know you’re still up.”

Fletcher heaved himself out of the breakfast nook and retied his robe as he shuffled into the living area. He decided to play the part. “Young man, did you forget your curfew? And what’s that hanging out of your back pocket? A handkerchief?”

T reached back, removed his boxer shorts and tossed them to the piano. Grinning broadly, he lifted the older man, spun him around. “Guess what?”

“You got laid. I get to order an organ. Damn, T, this bodes no good. Put me down!”

He set him on his feet heavily. “Thank you, Mr. Sunshine. I’m happy, Fletch! Be happy for me!”

Fletch sighed. “I am happy for you, T. I’m just thinking past your hormones down the road aways. Like next week. Like going home.”

“What if I said I was home? What if I said I wanted to stay?”

“What?” Fletch wheezed out the words. “What?” He clutched his chest and shakily walked to a loveseat. “I didn’t realize it was my time to die.”

“Don’t give up your day job for acting. You don’t think I should retire? Men have done more for love than that.”

“Hell with love, let’s talk money.” He still clutched his chest. “And let’s start with the basics. Was this a hormonal houseboat ride? Purely mutual satisfaction? Or is she in love with you, too?”

“Don’t insult the woman I love who loves me back.” He thumped his chest as if to prove the point.

“Which you does she love? Just exactly what happens to this house of cards when she finds out you’re Eddie T?”

“She knows.”

“What? Bertie told?”

“No. Lyla found my driver’s license.”

“Well, that must have been a photo opportunity. What happened?”

“She wasn’t happy.” Fletch dropped his jaw in mock disbelief at the understatement. “Okay, she was furious.” Just remembering the incident agitated him, as he stepped to the piano, tinkered with the treble keys with his left hand. The noise seemed to calm him and he turned back to Fletch. “But we discussed it. We worked it out. And if you’ll leave us alone, we’ll work out all the rest. Hell, Fletch, I see us married! Have I ever mentioned marriage before?”

Fletch shook his head. Marriage and Eddie T were diametrically opposed. His only commitment was to his music. More than once he’d advised the rest of BCA where they could take a flying marital leap.

“T.” The manager stood up, put his hands on his hips. “T, you’re not living in a vacuum. There’s BCA—the band, the stage people, the drivers for the buses and the eighteen-wheelers. No matter what I’ve said to rest of the boys, Bone Cold—Alive is you. You can’t do anything without carefully considering the consequences for the rest. We’re an arch. You’re our keystone.”

“C would love to hear this. You gave him the same speech two years ago when he and Bo wanted to leave?”

“I told them to go.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Ask him. He’ll tell you I told them to not let the closing door hit them in the ass.”

T smiled a half-crooked smile. “Well, I had hoped you did that.”

“I did. But that’s not the song-and-dance I’m giving you.” He started toward the bedroom, turned back. “My advice to you is what my old grandmother used to tell me. Straighten up and fly right!”

T grinned. “I thought you were happy for me to have this interlude.”

“I never thought she’d love you in return.”

“Maybe she sees my better nature.”

“At least she found it.”

“Well, I just thought I’d get your immediate reaction to what I’d been thinking.” They faced each other uneasily. T broke the silence. “Good night, Fletch. Don’t wake me in the morning.”

Fletch shook his head as he walked down the hall. Very well, if it was immediate reaction he wanted, he’d just wait to get T’s to what would alter his plans and happy mood. The last email about midnight told it all. C and the band would arrive on Thursday, five days earlier than scheduled.

Chapter Twenty-One

“P
sst! Lyla!”

“Arial wants you.” Sally flicked her head in the direction of the storeroom.

Lyla stopped pouring coffee for the highway road crew and caught the girl’s eye. “What do you need, Arial? Come on in, this group won’t bite.”

“No, come here!” Arial was still whispering.

Lyla set the coffeepot back on its perch and wiped her hands on her apron. It was only seven o’clock, but she was tired almost beyond being pleasant. Every time the front door opened, she jumped, half in fear that Sam would show up, half in anger when he didn’t. “Yes, Ari?”

“Sorry, but I didn’t want to talk in front of all those old guys.” She eyed the customers, the average age of which was probably thirty-five, if you took Norm out of the averaging. “Can I stay with you until my parents get back? I won’t be in the way, I promise. I’ll come over after supper so you won’t have to feed me and I’ll make sure Harrison gets up and going like I just did and I’ll baby-sit for free.” She cozied up to Lyla and dropped her voice. “I mean, what time did you get home last night? I woke up at two thirty and you still weren’t in!”

“When I got in is really none of your concern,” she whispered back. The girl looked hurt, so Lyla continued in a more apologetic vein. “I’m sorry for the tone, Arial. Obviously, I didn’t get enough sleep. I would love to have you spend the nights until your parents are back. I’ll even feed you.”

“So I can come earlier, huh?” She winked and nudged Lyla in the ribs with her elbow. “I don’t guess you’re going to tell me where you’re going?”

“You’re my baby-sitter, not my housemother!”

“If I guess—”

“Arial, don’t you have to call your uncle about your car?”

“I did. He’s bringing me another one. Listen, I don’t have to have three guesses, I can do quite well with one.”

“Then don’t you think you need to finish getting ready for school?”

“Summer classes are such a bore.” She turned and smirked her way up the stairs. “If you won’t tell, I’ll just use my imagination.”

God forbid, Lyla thought as she turned back to the counter. Fletch sat in the end seat just vacated by the crew foreman. Lyla picked up the order pad and waited for him to speak. Norm was at the other end, but his ears, no doubt, were tuned.

Fletcher fingered the plastic covered menu, idly reading the selections. “Two eggs, over easy, biscuits, hash browns. Coffee.” She scribbled, tore the sheet. “I take it I’ve come at a bad time.”

“It’s a perfect time for breakfast.” She was working at control. An adverse word, an overly familiar gesture, and the heat would be back on. She placed a mug on the counter, turned for the coffeepot.

“Hi, Mr. Fletcher!” Harrison ripped around the corner, grabbed a biscuit, and headed for the milk carton. “Didn’t Sam come?”

Lyla watched Norm more closely than she did Fletch.

“No, he was too tired this morning. I left him snoring away.” Fletch quirked an eyebrow at Lyla. “Too much fun yesterday. He can’t hack it like you and me!”

The boy giggled. “You suppose Bertie’ll let us do it again?”

“Harrison.” The warning notes were in his mother’s voice.

Fletch ignored her and leaned conspiratorially closer to the boy. “I’m sure we can. Next weekend.”

Harrison chewed on the biscuit. “I’ve got to go. Bus’ll be here in a minute.” He washed the biscuit down with milk. “Bye, Mama. Bye, Mr. Fletcher, bye, Norm, bye, Sally.” He grabbed his backpack, ran out the front door. He was petting Shep when the bus pulled in.

“He’s a good boy, Lyla,” Fletch commented as she placed his plate of food in front of him. “You’re to be commended.”

“Thank you, Fletch. You need anything else, Norm?”

“Coffee.” He stuck the mug out. “So you went out on Bertie’s old houseboat?” He turned to Fletch, spoke to him over the empty length of the counter. Lyla narrowed her eyes at him. He knew damn well about yesterday afternoon. Everyone did. It had been the topic of the six o’clock crowd.

“Yes.” Fletch drew the word out as if reluctant to begin a conversation with the old man. Lyla certainly understood that opinion.

“I’m amazed it still runs.”

“I’m no judge, but we didn’t have any problems.” He paused. “Did we, Lyla?”

“No, Fletch, we didn’t.” She kept her tone even as she cleared the counter and wiped it. She relegated the first round of dishes to the commercial washer.

“Lyla should be an expert on that boat,” Norm went on. “She spent enough time on it growing up. The Bertie school of indoctrination. Seems like the only part that didn’t take was man-hating.”

“I heard that, Norm Hudson.” Bertie came in and took a seat between the men. She ignored her brother-in-law, turning to Fletcher instead. “I see the Osprey’s not at the Lee. You got her down at Lyla’s?”

“Yes. We thought it’d make it easier to clean up today.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Norm made disgusted noises as Bertie doctored the coffee Lyla placed in front of her. “Lyla, I’ll just have biscuits and gravy.”

“Gonna make you fatter,” Norm muttered into his mug.

“Lyla, I still don’t know why you don’t segregate this counter. Put all the old goats in the back,” Bertie commented as Lyla spooned Sally’s homemade gravy over the biscuits.

Fletch chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s it, Bertie. Get all the liberal strangers laughing at us.”

“Why don’t you two quit?” Sally stood over them with her hands on her hips. “Most ridiculous drivel I have ever heard.”

“I agree.” Tib had come in while they were listening to Norm and Bertie. He straddled a stool and took the coffee offered by Lyla. “Usual, please.” Sally turned to start the eggs. Lyla felt her blood pressure rise as she balanced one hip against the counter and waited for the fireworks. All the players were in place and she had no doubt she'd not be disappointed.

“Bertie,” Tib began, “You out night fishing this morning?”

She looked at him over the top of her glasses. “No.” She cut another bite of biscuit. “Why you ask?”

“Oklahoma patrol just told me they spotted the Osprey between the Lee and the Islands early, early this morning. Looked to be anchored. There were people on the back deck or they’d have interrupted their call to check. When they came back by, boat was gone.” He looked casually from one face to the other.

At the mention of the Oklahoma patrol, Lyla turned to retrieve the dishes out of the washer, fumbled with the lock as the conversation behind her continued.

“Surely you two don’t think you have enough prowess for night fishing?” Bertie's words were light, teasing.

“Not a fish in sight, I swear.” Fletch paused to take a sip of coffee, a loud swallow. “But I confess, Bertie, we’re guilty. Got her back safely, but we won’t do it again, if you don’t think we should.”

“That’s okay, Fletch, no harm done. I’ll go out with you tonight if you wish, then by the weekend, you ought to able to navigate anywhere.”

Lyla heard a familiar sound, Bertie patting Fletch's knee, a Bertie-gesture meant to calm and assure. It usually worked for Lyla, but right now she didn't think anything would.