Chapter Four
CHAPTER FOUR
In the diner Becky was busy serving the breakfast crowd. Occasionally she would glance toward the door, hoping the gorgeous young man named Cody would return to compliment her on the pie. She overhead someone talking about a big tour bus that was seen driving behind Jeb’s garage, and a rumor was already circulating that it belonged to a big-time rock band.
She started thinking about the huge tip he’d left. As far as she knew, musicians were generally struggling unless they had record deals, and then they had tour buses. He’d told her his vehicle, as he’d called it, was at the station being repaired.
Excited by the possibility Cody might be a successful musician, she decided when the rush was over, she would run down to Jeb’s garage and see if he was there, but then worried that if he was someone famous he might not want to be bothered. A few minutes later she considered taking him a peach pie, after all, he did tell her where his ‘vehicle’ was being repaired, or did he? She couldn’t remember. By the time the breakfast crowd had departed, she still didn’t know if her idea was a good one or not, but she was determined to go to Jeb’s and see what was there.
* * *
The limousines had arrived, and Cash carried out his overnight bag with enough clothes for at least two days, along with the precious piece of pie tucked safely inside. When Cash had called Andrew and told him he’d be bringing a friend, Andrew had debated for only a moment. Cash made it clear if it meant a bigger jet, so be it.
“One more thing,” Cash continued. “Can you have someone video a live show for me? It’s at a place here called, The Cowbell, a girl named Becky. I think she might be a talent. She’ll be playing Saturday night.”
“Sure, I’ll send Jerry.”
“Make sure he’s discreet. I don’t want to disappoint her if nothing comes of it. He’s to film and leave.”
“Got it. Discreet,” Andrew replied. “Who is this girl you’re bringing with you. Someone special?”
“Not in the way you think. See you soon.”
Cash ended the call, thinking about the freckle-faced, makeup free, sun-kissed blond, buoyant, bubbly girl he’d met that morning. She had touched him, and if she were traveling with him, Cash would have answered, yes, someone special.
* * *
It was almost an hour later when Becky kissed her father on the cheek, and carrying the peach pie in a large brown bag, started down the street towards Jeb’s garage. If she did happen upon Cody Cox she’d have the pie to offer him, and if she didn’t she’d just take it back to the diner. ‘Never arrive empty-handed’ her father always told her. She had been feeling confident and excited, but as she approached the service station her nerves kicked in, but summoning her courage she marched forward. As she expected, there was no sign of life in the front of the garage. Jeb had a room behind the front counter, and if a car drove up to the pumps a buzzer would sound and he’d come out to help them.
Walking around to the back, she stopped dead in her tracks as the huge bus appeared before her. It was steel grey and looked like a space ship, with sharp angles and heavily tinted windows. She saw Jeb bent over the engine with another man beside him.
“Hey, Jeb!”
He stood up and smiled.
“Hey, Becky, what can I do you for?”
“Does this bus belong to a rock band?”
“I guess it does. You want to know more ask this fella. Charlie, meet Becky. You want good food just pop down to her diner.”
“Hello, Becky. Looking for someone?”
“Is there a member of your band called Cody Cox?”
“Cody Cox?” Charlie repeated.
“The name doesn’t ring a bell,” he answered, assuming Cash had given her false information.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m absolutely sure. I’ve been driving the band for the last ten days, and there’s no-one on board named Cody Cox.”
“Gee, I could have sworn...”
“Besides,” Charlie continued, “they’ve all left. They needed to get to New York for their next show.”
“Okay, well, thanks anyway,” Becky replied, a disappointed frown crossing her brow. “Just out of curiosity, is it a band I’d know?”
“I would think so,” Charlie chuckled. “It’s Cash Colt.”
“Cash Colt, the Cash Colt?” she asked, shocked that such a famous rocker had passed through her small town.
“There’s only one.”
The sweet guy who’d been in her diner certainly wasn’t the famous rock star. He was so calm and so together, and in the few pictures she’d seen of Cash Colt, he’d had long hair, almost down to his shoulders.
“I hope you get your bus fixed,” she said, and looking down at the paper bag in her hand, she walked forward and handed it to Charlie. “Here, if you’ve been driving for ten days you might enjoy this. I made it myself. Peach pie.”
“Aren’t you a love?” Charlie grinned, his Irish accent thick and strong. “Let me pay you for it.”
“Just make sure you give a piece to Jeb or he’ll never forgive me.”
“Thanks, Becky,” Jeb said with a wink. “You’re a good sort.”
“That is very nice of you, little lady. I’ll truly enjoy this,” Charlie declared, taking the package from her hand.
“I guess I’d better get back. Safe driving,” she smiled, and turning away, ambled back to the street, thinking how amazing it would have been if Cash Colt had come into her diner.
* * *
After sharing a late lunch, Cash politely excused himself and headed into his bedroom, closing and locking the door. Marilyn sat for a moment, considering a shopping jaunt. She didn’t have much stuffed into her large, Ferragamo hobo bag and needed to pick up a few extra clothes. Rising from the table she headed to her bedroom, but once there she realized how tired she was and collapsed on the comfortable bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
Cash, though, was having trouble. The more he tried to push the adorable Becky out of his mind, the more her image bounced around his head. The slice of pie was still sitting in its carton, in his bag, on the floor next to the bed.
Reaching down he pulled out the protective plastic box, and lifting the lid, the mouthwatering apples, walnuts and thick pastry, was too deliciously tempting to pass up. Placing it on his nightstand, he headed back into the living room and quietly opened the door to the hallway. The dining cart from their late lunch was still sitting there, and finding a clean fork and a napkin, he walked back to his bedroom and settled down to have his dessert.
He didn’t know whether it was enhanced by the fact that Becky had baked it, or because it was the first homemade anything he’d had in months, but it was the best pie he’d ever had in his life. It was a little tart, not too sweet, and the pastry was melt-in-your-mouth light.
Slowly eating, relishing every bite, thinking about the breezy, beautiful Becky, he decided he needed an answer to the all-important question; did she have any desire to be spanked, or tied up, or blindfolded, or any other kinky pursuits . He knew it was probably way too soon to open the door, but he wasn’t prepared to wait. She was haunting him, and he needed to find out. Cash traveled with two phones, one for his professional life, and one for his close friends and family. The latter was subscribed in his real name, Cody Cox, and he didn’t have it blocked. In minutes he’d retrieved the number for Becky’s diner from directory assistance, and was waiting for her to pick up.
* * *
When Becky heard the phone ring, she was still sitting in the booth, daydreaming about the sexy guy who had wandered into the diner. Sighing deeply, she dragged herself over to the counter to answer it.
“Becky’s diner, Becky speaking. How may I help you?”
“You can make sure you have some of that amazing pie when I come back to visit you,” Cody replied.
She couldn’t believe it. It was him! He had called her!
“Hi, Cody,” she said quickly, then completely tongue-tied, could think of nothing else to say.
“I just got around to eating that delicious concoction you call a pie,” he remarked after a few seconds of awkward silence. “You certainly know what you’re doing.”
“I do? Thank you, and thank you for that crazy tip. It was too much. If you come back here the meal is on me,” she promised.
“That’s not necessary nor is it allowed. It was my pleasure. I’m calling to let you know that I had planned to come in for lunch, but something came up and now I’m back on the road. I just wanted you to know I will definitely be back to see you, if you’d like me to that is. I can probably manage it next week.”
“Yes, I would definitely like you to,” she answered quickly, perching on a counter stool, grateful his call had come during the quietest time of her day.
“I’m very happy to hear it, but I have to tell you, there’s a condition.”
The words caused an unfamiliar fluttering in her stomach.
“If I promise to save you a piece of pie?”
“That would certainly be appreciated, but that’s not it. I’ll come back and see you, if you promise to be a good girl until I do.”
She didn’t know quite what to say, and a warm blush began creeping up her neck, then something very strange happened. She heard herself whisper,
“What if I’m not?” She couldn’t pull back the unexpected question that had spilled from her lips, and she didn’t want to. “I’m sorry,” she declared breathlessly. “I don’t know why I said that.”
Closing his eyes, he mouthed a silent thank you. Her question had been the answer to his prayers.
“Well, if you’re not,” he said softly, “I’ll just have to spank you.”
The creeping warmth that had been languidly moving up her neck, burst into a hot flame, burning her cheeks a deep, crimson red. Totally mortified she covered her eyes with her free hand, but the heat that had flushed across her face was now surging through her sex.
A heavy silence filled the phone line, and the cable swinging between the telephone polls outside the diner, crackled with the blistering energy that sizzled between them. Becky was at a complete loss for words, but Cash needed to be patient. She had to speak first. He waited, barely breathing, letting the pressure build, then smiled and silently sighed as she finally began to speak.
“I, uh, I’ll try,” she breathed, the promise of a long-held, covert fantasy being realized, was being delivered by a handsome, mesmerizing, dark-haired stranger, as if ordained by her fairy godmother.
He had listened to her voice while idly touching himself, but in that instant his cock surged to life, and he swallowed a deep, guttural groan. The dark, spicy invitation had been made.
“I’ll be seeing you in a few days, and I’ll call you again soon.”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
“Goodbye, Becky.”
“Bye, Cody.”
He dropped the phone at his side. It appeared a chance encounter at a small town diner might change his life, though it was impossible to know where the path might lead. He did know he was excited at the prospect of getting to know her, and that was more than he’d felt for any woman in a long time. Closing his eyes he could see her, and in spite of his stiffened, hungry state, exhaustion kicked in and he fell asleep.
In the diner, Becky couldn’t move. Her hand was gripping the receiver, and a tiny person in her stomach was doing somersaults.
“Becky,” her father asked, emerging through the swinging doors, “are you all right? I’ve been calling you. What’s happened? Your face is all red. Was that Roy on the phone?”
She mentally shook herself and handed the phone to her father, still not trusting herself to stand.
“No, it wasn’t Roy,” she stammered. “It was, uh, someone else.”
“Who, who upset you this much?” he demanded, taking the receiver and putting it back on its cradle.
“I’m not upset, not at all. It was someone you don’t know.”
“He’d better treat you right,” he mumbled, wishing his voice had not betrayed his heavy emotion and deep apprehension.
“He will dad, I already know that,” she replied, afraid to look at him, afraid that he might see the dark sparkle in her eyes, afraid he might think he was losing her.
* * *
Across town in a modest, two-bedroom house left to him by his mother, surrounded by empty beer bottles and fast food containers, Roy Trumble was staring at the diamond ring in the small black box.
“Maybe I need to court her again,” he muttered. “Make her feel special. She’s a sensitive girl. I’ll give her some time and then send her some flowers. Let her know how sorry I am for losing my temper.”
Deciding that was the best course of action, he picked up his remote control, found a football season preview show, and opened another beer.