Chapter 16

Richie pulled into the winding driveway with a yawn and a stretch. Rounding the house, the punch of sea air instantly relaxed him as he stashed the car in the bottom level garage. Driving usually invigorated him, but it had been an atypical couple of days. He was beat and it was starting to show in everything he did. He needed this little getaway as much as Alex did.

He looked over at her, still asleep, her head cushioned on her hands against the window. Not quite sure how he should go about waking her, he stepped out of the car. Drawing in a deep breath, he scanned the view--water and surf, as far as the eye could see and planted his hands on his hips as a genuine smile crept onto his face.

She felt the stillness even in her sleep. Groaning, she opened her eyes to mere slits and looked around. Yep, he'd stopped. Glancing to the left she noted he had left the so non rock star vehicle, and with a look forward and to the right she finally found him, hands on hips, head back. God what a sight, she could almost, from her safety zone inside the car see the tension leaving him as he pulled in the fresh sea flavored air.

Straightening, she quietly opened the door and slipped from the SUV, her eyes taking in the surroundings. Well where the heck where they? It was a beach, but this wasn't a boardwalk or town area, it was a house. Coughing quietly she stepped forward. "Guess I fell asleep on you. Sorry about that."

He turned back to her. The normally elegant look to her was rumpled and had that fresh from the bed look. Something stirred, low in his gut at the thought of her and a bed. Pushing that firmly aside, he smiled at her. "Mornin' sleepyhead, glad you could join me." He waved his hand out to the view. "What’dya think?"

Her gaze shifted to the water, an honest smile creeping onto her lips as she watched the blues and greens of the ocean shift and mix. Taking a deep breath she could almost feel the sleep cobwebs fading away. "I think you have excellent taste in views."

A smirk kicked up the corner of his mouth. "That I do." His eyes swiped her from head to toe, then back out to the sea. "This was one of the first things I bought when we made it to the big time. It's my ultimate place of comfort."

Her head tilted, "So out of all the houses, this one is truly home, where you planted your heart."

"It's the place I came to after detox, if that tells you anything," he said matter of factly and grabbed his guitars from the backseat. "C'mon, I'll show you inside." He glanced down at her suit pants ,in their oddly unmatching way--she needed his place as much as he did. "I'm sure I've got some clothes that will do, so you won't ruin yours." He laughed over his shoulder. "They'll probably be too big on you, but," he shrugged, "I'll make up for it with a big meal to help you grow into them."

A slender brow arched as he spoke. Following him in, her head shook, "sounds like you plan on putting me to work, if you think my clothing will get *ruined*"

"The only work you're doing is planting that superior ass in the sand and relaxing." He winced as he walked up the flagstone steps to the back entrance. Damn, that didn't sound good. "You can take your sketch pad if you like, walk around the area. My beach is private for three miles."

He thinks I have a superior ass? When was he watching my ass? HE never showed any interest.I never SAW him watching my…. Jesus, he's sneaky. She just didn't know what to make of him, he was so different from Studio Richie. "Ahh don't get many chances to just sketch for pleasure, not too big on that just relaxing thing either."

"It's good for the soul." He unlocked the door, turning back to her. "Something tells me your soul might just need a tune up after what we have been through. You'd be surprised what a day of doing nothing can do for you.”

Her nose wrinkled as she looked up, her hand lifting as an index finger pushed back her glasses from the tip of her nose. "Seems to me you could re-figure that out yourself. You're one tensed spring sometimes ya know."

She slipped past him and took in the parts of the house she could see, pleased at all she saw. Space, there was nothing but space and windows, nothing cluttered to muddle the mind, and the furniture? She almost salivated at the size and obvious comfort. She knew if she settled herself on any given chair or couch she'd sink into its leathery plushness and probably never be found again. He was a man who enjoyed his creature comforts; it was obvious even to the naked eye. "Nice furnishings." She turned to watch the ocean from the main wall of windows. "Again, nice view."

"And that's why we're at the beach, darlin'." Her scent wafted by him, setting off that twinge in his gut again, stirring things that had no business stirring. His eyes slid down to the endless length of her legs again. "I'm a selfish bastard lately." He forced his gaze up, "I need this as much as you do." Her cool gold eyes swung to his, and the twinge roared into awareness. Just fucking great.

She kept her eyes on his as her lip quirked upward. "At least you trusted yourself with that decision. You haven't done that much of late have you? Trusting yourself?"

He set his acoustic next to the couch and stashed his electric. He wasn't sure he was going to like this Alex in his head space, now that she was actually speaking. No, he didn't trust himself anymore. That, more than anything bugged the fuck out of him. He'd always relied on his gut to get him through anything from a song to a relationship. All he did was question himself lately. "Yeah, well when you fuck up as much as I did, it makes you wonder." He moved to the window, bracing his forearm against the expanse of glass.

She turned back to the window, watching him stiffen even as he stood still. "Shame really, all that knowledge, experience, love of music and performing you obviously have, shuttered in behind the distrust you have. You made a mistake Mr..." she stopped a moment, instinctively knowing calling him Mr. Sambora was just not gonna go over well, not in the here and now at least. "Richie, we all make them. I think you're just being too hard on yourself. Trust me, when you do that you risk losing the important things."

He pressed his forehead against his arm, watching the surf roll in. Maybe that was his problem, no one was being hard on him. Everyone wanted to forgive him. He certainly didn't deserve it. "Yeah well, your mistakes didn't put your little girl in danger." He pushed off the window. "I'll just go get you some clothes. I'll be right back." He headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time before she could talk again. Before she could zero in on exactly what was wrong.

She winced as he turned and left the room. Had she said something wrong? She’d just been honest after all. If he couldn’t take a bit of honesty he wasn’t the man she thought he was. She moved towards the windows her gaze moving out to the tumbling waves. She’d always loved its wildness and colors. Even as a little girl she'd loved the sea and its foam. Of course back then she'd thought it was bubbles in a great big bubble bath. Still did if you looked at it just the right way.

And that was his problem, he looked at things the wrong way, he kept seeing the what ifs and beating himself up over it. She wanted to help him not think like that but she knew he wouldn't listen. Stubborn was him, she'd learned that the first day she'd met him.

Flipping through his drawers he came up with a pair of running pants that would probably fit her delectibl--he clenched his jaw. Her legs, just legs. Nothing special about them. His fingers curled around the whispery material, snagging a Soul shirt in matching charcoal colors he grabbed a pair of socks. He was a sock guy, everywhere but here at the beach house. He liked the sand, both cool and hot against every part of his skin that he could get. Quickly changing into a pair of board shorts, he tugged on a Soul shirt of his own and headed back downstairs. "Here, this should..." he trailed off as her body tensed right before his eyes. Great. Again, he couldn't get anything quite right. She turned back to him, the pleasure there in her swirling gold eyes seeming to just wink out. He cleared his throat. "These should do."

She reached out to take the offered clothing and felt the tiniest shock as her fingers touched his. Pulling away she took a deep breath and pushed down the need to question his intense feelings on his failure. That could wait for another time. If she spoke now she’d probably say too much or say the wrong thing again. Shaking her head she forced herself into more mundane thoughts, thoughts that didn’t include how incredibly fine he looked in those shorts he’d changed into. "Thank you, umm, where can I change?"

He pointed around the corner. "Just before you get to the kitchen, there's a half bath. Or if you prefer, I can show you my…” No....not yours, fuckhead. He cleared his throat, "your bedroom for the night."

She turned to move towards the bathroom and stopped cold at his words. "For the NIGHT?"

He grinned. "Oh I didn't tell you? We're working here for the next few days at least. Welcome to Casa Sambora--the studio and your new home." He headed into the kitchen. "Iced tea?" he asked over his shoulder.

She watched him move past and swallowed convulsively, she couldn't be here alone with him, she couldn't. "I .... well... sure, iced tea sounds nice."

She quickly moved into the half bath and closed the door only to lean against it. She couldn't do this, she needed the armor of the city, her business and work to stay normal. She'd just have to come up with some reason for leaving. Somehow.