Chapter 15

"Better." She nodded, equally amazed and confused at how much better she suddenly felt. She took another deep breath, knowing she should be backing away, but not wanting too, not just yet. "Thank you."

He welcomed the slight weight of her against him. It had been a long time since he'd just enjoyed the touch of a woman. Most of the women he dealt with these days were for one purpose and one purpose only. His nose brushed her hair, the citrus was more sweet today, like oranges and the ocean. He squeezed once, feeling the supple muscles in her shoulders shift and relax. His hand fell away from her shoulders and down to her hand. "Why don't we try that door thing together this time, huh?"

She grasped his hand as the lifeline it was and managed a brief smile. "Sure, door together. I can do that." And oddly enough she felt able too, the connection of his hand lending her the strength she'd misplaced in the sleepless night she'd had.

He watched her take a shaky step over the threshold and down to the sidewalk. Instead of letting her think too hard about what they were doing, or where they were, he smiled. "Wait until you see the docks." He took advantage of her height and moved them around the corner to where his truck was stashed. "The boardwalks are off season right now, but the sun bleached wood and the waves are perfect in the fall. I think you'll really enjoy it."

It sounded beautiful, but then the ocean in all its shades was always so pretty. "It sounds wonderful." Her brow arched a moment as the SUV came into view.How had she not noticed the hugeness of his ride last night? It was another puzzle piece, not normally the car she associated with a bonafide rock star. He was full of puzzle pieces this man, the more she learned the bigger the enigma he became. "Nice ride you have there." That’s right Alex, talk about the mundane, keep your mind on his chatter and that non musician ride, you'll make it then.

He opened the door for her, stowing her bag in the back. "I can't drive my little tin can in this city. They don't know how to drive." At her quirked brow, he grinned back at her. "I have a ridiculously expensive, unnecessary toy back home in California, I call her my tin can, since I can barely move." He laughed and rounded the car, opening his door. "If I got in an accident with the stupid thing I'd likely be dead, but I can't help it. I love my Aston Martin."

She tried to not laugh as visions of him dressed as Bond, James Bond started dancing through her brain. The harder she tried to not picture it the bigger the picture grew until he was standing dead center of that Bond circle aiming his guitar.

The laughter erupted then, she couldn't stop it, as she saw him slaying the bad guys with the simple strumming of a string. God, she was losing it, but it was there and it was vivid, big old him in that tiny Aston Martin.

He pulled around the back alleys and skipped the main roads. It was quicker to go the long way around than to sit in traffic. "Care to share the joke?" he said with his own laugh. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard a full blown laugh out of her since he met her.

She turned to look at him and tried to gasp out between peals of laughter, "Bond with a guitar."

He frowned at her, but still couldn't stop the infectious laughter. She was quite beautiful when she let loose. Not that she wasn't all the time, but seeing her personality here and now--it was disconcerting and sexy as hell. His frown cleared. "Oh, the Aston?" He shook his head, "yeah...I totally bought it because I love those movies. Sue me."

She leaned back, the laughter settling into stray snickers of amusement, "Ahh, don’t think so, you can afford better lawyers." She took a deep breath and was rewarded with how his scent filled the car, the laughter and moment lulling her, relaxing her, and setting all internal sensors on alert Shaking her head she forced the thought of how good he smelled to the back of her mind. "Tell me more about the Jersey guy you are."

"I was a lower middle class kid growing up. My parents taught me about the value of money and taking care of your own. As soon as I could--I made sure my parents were taken care of." He sighed, "My Dad died last year, but my Mom," he smiled wide. "She's still around, supportive as ever."

"I've kept a house in Jersey, even after I moved to California and settled down with my..." he trailed off, hating the words and the fact that it still hurt to say them. "wife. I made sure to keep roots here. Roots are important."

She heard the hesitation in his voice and wondered what had happened to have that sound come into a normally warm voice. As to the rest, she'd not experienced family that way, or roots, but it sounded rather nice all in all. "It sounds like a really nice childhood."

"Times were tough sometimes, but my parents loved me," he grinned, "even when I was a punk kid. They put up with the instruments I kept learning, but it was guitar..." He sighed. "Ah, man the guitar was where I lost my soul. I taught myself how to play. God," he laughed, "I was awful at first."

She smiled slightly as she listened. "Kinda hard to believe that when listening to you now though."

“It took about six months before I understood the heart of the guitar. Once we had an understanding she let me find the soul. Amazing instrument and every one of my ladies talks just a little different." He gave her a huge smile. "Kinda like women actually. If you take the time to get to know one..." he trailed off shrugging. "I guess it could be called sexist, but it's true."

She nodded, "Makes sense to think of them as ladies I think, they are sorta shaped like one, well most are that is." She glanced out at the passing scenery, "kinda like how colors talk to a painter, making different colors out of the prime three by mixing it just right."

He pulled onto one of the back roads he knew, threw the truck into four wheel drive and climbed up the steep incline. "Music and art are among the few things that are universal." He watched her lean against the door frame, her eyes growing heavier as her voice went softer and huskier as she talked about her art. Amazed that he could get her to talk at all, he just listened.

She closed her eyes as she smiled, "I can imagine, I’ve seen you find infinite notes and chords just by changing out an amp or even a string, its like colors you know? You can't count how many shades of blue there are, cuz just one little dib of another color changes it. Like your eyes really, not really chocolate, but not really brown, little flecks of other colors there. Did ya know?"

He laughed lightly, she was so tired she was almost drunk with it. "I love color, well those shades I can see. But I can't say I ever looked at my eyes. Yours change though, so I can see what you're talking about."

"Can't imagine what it's like to not see a color. I guess it could be equated to sorta being tone deaf though, in the really weirdest kind of way."

He glanced at her. "Well, if I was tone deaf I'd never be able to play like I do." He smiled at her as she swiveled to look at him, her eyes dark like old coins. "So I guess I couldn't be an artist." What an odd conversation. She'd never been so open with him before. Made him curious to know what else was going on in that pretty ice queen head of hers.

She shook her head, "You are one, you just paint with sound is all."

Her wide lidded eyes, finally closed and the dark line of her eyelashes rested along her cheeks. She crossed her arms over her middle and settled back against the door. He did paint with sound, she was right about that. He just didn't know she knew that. He flicked on the stereo, trying not to think about the fact that this woman was becoming more intriguing every day that he spent with her. He hit the highway and settled in for the three hour drive with her citrus scent in his nose and more questions than answers.