Chapter 27

Alex walked along the path, so deep in thought she didn’t see the lush greenery of the island, or the blue of the sky breaking through the trees like jewels. Just being around him was turning into an exercise in control. Control that, until lately, she’d thought she had a handle on. He’d blown that all out of the water so easily. Just look at the last few minutes, she’d popped off about the night before, something she’d sworn not to do. She didn’t know whether to kill him for being so morose about his past or kiss him for being too damned delicious.

It seemed the kissing part was winning, followed very swiftly with the need to make him understand one little mistake wasn’t a death knell. He always had that shadow of sadness deep in those startling brown eyes and it called to parts of her she thought long dead. The need to nurture, to help the pain go away, it had died in her quest to succeed, all thanks to the long gone Er….No she wouldn’t let the name breech the walls she’d placed them behind. He was the past.

She sighed as she broke free of the trees, her gaze following the crashing of the waves on shore. She’d worked so hard at stifling all emotion, how the holy hell was he able to make her feel so easily, make her [i]want[/i] so much, especially him? She shook her head as she tried to reinforce her decisions. She’d just not give in to him, not again. It wouldn’t do either of them any good. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t keep telling him what a fool he was for beating himself up though. In some weird way her insight was something he’d asked for. And she’d give it, even if it killed her.


Richie settled his guitar back in its case, his fingers sliding down the neck before he stood. He couldn't remember a time when the acoustic felt less comfortable in his hands. Her words stung. He'd tried to put them out of his head, let the music take him like it usually did. It really was his one constant---but not now. Sitting here on his favorite beach, he kept hearing her words in his head.


In essense the pity party was so much a part of him these days, it felt safe. He put on a happy face for Ava, for his mom, for the band, but he couldn't even remember the last time he'd been happy.


Losing himself in Lex's arms had given him a spark of that happy, but he knew better than to rely on a woman for happiness. The minute he got comfortable, life had a way of showing him what a marble floor felt like from a twenty foot fall. Pride bending with a side of rude awakening and garnish with a slice of lime in a drink.


What he wouldn't give for that lime spliced drink. He shook off that thought and climbed up the rock face. The toe holds and hand nooks as familiar as the strings on his Les Paul. He'd been coming to this outcropping since he'd bought the house years ago. Amazed that a developer hadn't snatched it up, he'd bought the land some ten years ago to make sure the little slice of heaven would always be his.


He caught her blonde hair glinting along the water's edge. Her serene self, standing there with her back straight, shoulders uncomfortably set as if she had a nun with a ruler at her side. He wasn't sure what it was about the woman that had him so on edge. She was prickly one minute, insightful and soft the next. And just when he thought he'd finally figured her out, she threw him for another loop.

How many times had he lost himself between the thighs of a woman? How many times had he kissed one goodbye, no harm done? Countless. How many walked away from him, like nothing had happened? That number he could count. None. None before Lex, he qualified.


He'd tried for the nonchalant teasing. Tried to keep things light. Her hair whipped around in the light breeze, his lips pulling into a wry grin when she quickly and efficiently stapled it back with a clip of some sort. His tidy little Lex. The grin faded. She didn't want to be his anything.


Did he even want to[i] be[/i] anyone's anything? Did he trust that he could be? He wasn't sure.


The whisper of skin on rock, a simple scrambling like sound had her turning, her hand moving up to shade her eyes as she looked upwards. Her heart skipped a beat as the image became a permanent mental snapshot.


He was there watching her, his hair being teased by the warm breeze, his skin almost glistening from the combination of sweat and sun. A sigh broke through as she noted the deep look of introspection on his face. God did he never stop thinking? And in that moment she wanted to climb up that same rock and kiss him stupid, or brain him for stubbornness. At this point she wasn't particular about which happened first.


At least she'd be doing something other than pretending she was stone and he was nothing. That if anything was beginning to wear deeply on her reserves of inner strength.


She watched him a moment, her hand lifting in a slight wave before turning back to her study of the blue ocean. Let him play rock climber, she was going to stand right here. Maybe if he hit that hard head on the way down he'd finally come to his senses. She doubted it though.


He stood, looking off the edge of the rock face. It was a small diving line that he'd jumped off of a million times with his daughter. Okay, so it had been about five years since he'd done it, but the water looked inviting, even in the lateness of the season.


The wind kicked up, pulling her clothes tight to her body. He'd walk down and talk to her, maybe they could clear the air. Stepping off the edge, the sunshine and the bite of empty space gave him the first spurt of exhilaration he'd felt in an age.


She whirled at the loud splash, her eyes going wide when she noted the rock outcropping was empty. Holy Jesus he'd fallen?? God had he jumped? She knew he'd been depressed over his mistakes but she'd never taken him for a jumper.

She raced towards the rock, her heart hammering in her chest as she glanced over the water and saw nothing. Where WAS he? She continued around the rocks seeing nothing, the warmth of the day doing nothing to soothe the ice that was suddenly flowing through her veins.

How the hell was she gonna explain this? [i]Oh he jumped Mr Bongiovi. I was tormenting him about being depressed Mr. Bongiovi. [/i]

WHERE WAS HE?


She stopped suddenly, her skin blanching of all color.[i] Shit I wished him to fall? It's my fault? Oh God it’s MY fault! [/i]She'd never get a chance to speak to him or explain anything, he'd fallen, he'd jumped, hell he was just gone.


He slicked his hair back, trudging out of the water. He whooped out a laugh and fell to his knees along the sandy coast. Damn it had been a long time since he'd done that. Alex came around the rocky bridge, her long legs hurtling the short wall as she coasted to a stop. He laughed and waved. "You should really try that. Talk about a rush."


She seemed to sway with the breeze, her golden hair sliding out of the ruthless ponytail she'd pulled it into. "Lex?" He got to his feet, his gait a little off as the sand sifted beneath his waterlogged sandals. Was it his imagination, or was she a little pale?


Her gaze skittered up to his face, his very alive and animated face, relief washing through her like a stray summer's storm. "You're....You're.. Ok!!"

She watched him a moment, his quizzical look pushing away the last of the fear and allowing her ire to rise. She stepped forward, her head lifted, "YOU scared me to death you big ...overgrown...."


She whirled, intent on putting a few steps between them before she did something stupid, like kiss him. She started to tell him to go jump; again, to see if she'd care, but her lips snapped shut as she stood there almost vibrating. She couldn't say she wouldn't care, it wouldn't even come out. "You’re nuts," was all she could manage.


"Hey!" He laughed and came up behind her. "Did you--" he laughed and caught her shoulder with his hand, turning her back to face him. "Did you think I jumped?" At her wild eyed glare, he tucked her pale hair behind her ear until her golden eyes practically burned a hole in his forehead. "You'd mop me off a floor with vodka in my hair before I killed myself, darlin'."


He hauled her in, pressing her cheek to his chest. "I'm glad you care though."


She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing a lightness to her tone she didn't feel. "I just didn't want to get arrested for murder."


"Little you is going to murder, big bad me?" He looked down at her, folding her tighter into his arms. "Because you told me to get my head out of my ass?" He slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her back toward their little camp.


She almost growled at the lightness in his tone. "No, but they might have thought it you know."


She knew she should pull away, but she couldn't, not for this minute, so she stood there, enjoying the hug. "You ever try that again without warning I just might try though."


He dragged her over to their little picnic area. "Oh yeah? Now this I have to hear. Just how would you kill me darlin'?"


Her gaze flickered away as she settled the blanket, her hands busily situating the food he'd brought along. "Not gonna say, let it be a surprise."


The slim line of her back curved enticingly into the hips that filled his hands perfectly. He did remember that--vividly. She looked over her shoulder at him, and he shook his head to get most of the water out of his hair. "Surprises work for me." He dropped to the blanket and snapped the crusty bread apart, reaching for the brie. "Sorry I got all bitchy," he said around a hunk of French bread. "I usually keep my PMS in check."

One brow lifted as she watched him nearly inhale the bread and cheese. "Not exactly what I would call it. " She lifted a piece of the brie and chewed quietly for a moment before finishing, "I think you're just stuck in some rut, hell maybe you're just masochistic."


He hollowed out a bit of bread and filled it in with brie, handing her a piece. "Live a little," he muttered and did the same with another elbow of the baguette he'd ripped apart. "Hmm...masochist? That's not my usual speed. I think I've just been spending way too much time with myself. I'm a social creature. I mean and don't get me wrong--the guitar and I make for a great pair, but sometimes I just need to get out. I've been in that studio way too long." He stuffed the basket behind his head and reclined back. "I like having you around, even if you're usually quiet."


She snorted, the bread halting before hitting her lips, "I'm not quiet. I only talk when I have something important to say is all. No need to waste words when action will do,"


Later--he told himself--he'd say the devil made him do it. But for now, he just couldn’t resist. He hooked a hand around her waist and toppled her onto his chest. "I like how you think, darlin'." All those long, warm limbs stiffened as she tried to push away from him. His fingers sifted through her hair, holding her in place until her eyes met his. "I'm all about the action."


Her hands slid up along his chest, bracing as she tried to push up and away. [i]TOO CLOSE![/i] She felt every warning bell ever created setting off inside of her brain. He was too close, too tantalizing, the idea of action with him beginning to flare even as she tried to force the need back.

She wanted, no she craved that nearness with him again, but she couldn't do it, she couldn't risk it, not now, or ever. "Richie... not that kind of action!"

He smirked, popping a grape into her mouth, then his as he let her go. "Too bad."