5. Present Day
Present Day
“I had the best time today with you. I don’t want it to end.”
It was the last night of his father’s trip, the end of the extra day Jase suggested they take to enjoy riding up the California coast. Lindsey, flushed and sweaty, had ordered room service while Jase found a Bruce Willis movie on TV, and they ate chicken wings in bed with cheap red wine they sucked from the bottle.
Yeah, Jase was having the best time today too. He could get used to hotels with crisp, white towels and sheets, big-screen TVs, and air-conditioning, and he’d be able to afford more of them after tomorrow.
“There’s still something I want to do with you tonight,” Lindsey said.
Watching her lick sauce from her fingers, knowing what else she could do with her mouth, his dick twitched in anticipation. Jase tossed the last wing onto the room service tray.
“There’s still plenty I want to do with you, Sundress. And to you.”
He hadn’t used his teeth on her new dress the way he promised, though he spent plenty of time underneath it. Now it was crumpled on the floor with the white shirt he bought for the carnival. The maid would find its buttons in all corners of the room.
“Good, let’s go.”
“Go?”
Lindsey shoved the shameless pile of chicken bones into the hotel hallway, then ran naked out the sliding glass door and across the empty beach to the water.
“Hey!” he called after her, stopping on the patio. “Are you nuts?”
“You promised me a swim,” she reminded him. “I’ve never been skinny-dipping.”
Beep.
No. Not now. The monitor tracking his dad’s heartbeat found him again.
Beep. Beep.
Lindsey screamed as a wave crashed against her stomach.
“You coming?” she called over her shoulder.
“You’re crazy!”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Jase pressed his palm into his temple, hoping to cut through the sound.
Please, just give me more time.
That’s what she asked for at the pier, wasn’t it? More time. With him. More nights like this. It wasn’t the worst way to live.
Two weeks ago, he never would’ve passed through Monterey without hooking up with Chloe or ridden for two days on a brand-new bike with a woman he barely knew.
He wouldn’t be following that woman, his brother’s ex-girlfriend, into the cold ocean, wouldn’t be kissing her through the burning wing sauce on their lips, wouldn’t be relishing every square inch of her mouth and every minute with her naked body in his hands.
He wouldn’t be breaking all his rules for the woman wrapping her legs around his waist.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Maybe that thing, the indescribable quality his dad swore existed and Jase never found, was a woman’s ability to make a man do crazy things. Stupid things. Things he’d never do for anyone else.
His dad giving up life on the road sure qualified.
Jase wouldn’t give up the life for a woman. Without his bike and the miles, he didn’t know what was left of the man.
“Why did you ask me if I wanted you?” Lindsey asked as the waves ebbed, sucking at Jase’s body.
“What?”
“In Austin. You asked me if I wanted you. I thought it was obvious.”
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The monitor was crashing into his brain louder than the ocean now.
“I didn’t think you should want a man like me.”
“She’s too good for you, man.”
Graham. Not him too. Not now.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Lindsey was kissing him again, tightening her legs around his waist. She shouldn’t want him. Everything Graham said in Lake Havasu City was spot-on. Lindsey needed a man who could give her more than tonight.
Beeeeep.
Jase was choking. He couldn’t breathe around her tongue in his mouth.
Beeeeeep.
The water was suddenly up to his neck, splashing his face, the salt stinging his eyes and nose.
Beeeeeeep.
He tried pushing her off, but she was stuck to him.
She’s too good for you.
I had the best time today.
Beeeeeeeep.
I don’t want it to end.
Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeep.
“Hey, wake up.”
A voice he recognized broke through the distorted dream of his last night with Lindsey.
“Dad?” he croaked.
No. It was a woman with a raspy, almost masculine voice. Not the kind of sound he normally woke up to.
Jase peeled his eyelids apart, letting a slice of sunlight seep through. Sunlight? How in the—
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Jase recoiled at the round, grinning mug in front of him.
“Paula?”
“He lives!”
Hers was definitely not a face or a voice fit for delicate morning eyes and ears.
Paula’s grin broadened over coffee-stained teeth. “You passed out last night. Thought you could drive your motorcycle after half a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Genius.”
She slapped him in the forehead with her palm, sending bells tolling behind his eyes.
“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, thick in the throat. Jase waited until his stomach calmed the hell down to shake the sleep out of his limbs and gingerly sit up. He was on a ratty old couch in a ratty old living room he didn’t recognize. And was his face wet?
“You snore. Anyone ever tell you?” Paula handed him a towel, and he clocked an empty glass in her hand. “Plus, I figured a shower wouldn’t hurt.”
He wiped water off his cheeks. “Where?”
“You’re at my house. Don’t think I make a habit of taking drunk losers home with me—even the nice-looking ones.”
Paula, her frizzy red hair sticking out as if she hadn’t ripped a comb through it yet, set a cup of black coffee in front of him.
Coffee. The first time he brought Lindsey a cup, they were at the motel in Alabama on the second morning of the trip, and she’d thrown a fit over Graham not doing simple things for her.
Jase couldn’t take so much as a sip anymore without thinking about her.
He picked up the cup anyway, because it was work to keep his eyes open. The sun, his pulse slamming against his temples, the sweat collecting on his brow reeking of whiskey all begged him to pass out and try again later.
“We didn’t”—he coughed up phlegm—“We didn’t…”
He couldn’t get the words out. Jase gestured in front of his body to mimic what he hoped didn’t happen between him and the surly bartender.
Her frown was even deeper than her grin. She smacked him upside the head again. Bells tolled and the sip of coffee he’d just taken reversed direction.
“You’re cute, but I’m not desperate,” she barked, waddling to the kitchen.
“You’re not desperate?” he muttered to himself. With deep breaths he willed his guts back down. “What time is it?”
“Time to get your sweet ass moving. I’ve got places to go. There’re four aspirins on the table. Take ’em. You need ’em.”
He focused through the crust in his eyes on the four round tabs next to an overflowing ashtray and a pile of magazines on the coffee table in front of him.
Aspirin. Lindsey carried a bottle in her purse. Lindsey—
His spine stiffened. There was something he couldn’t remember. Something about last night. Had she called?
He fished his cell from his pocket and flipped it open. No new calls. Nothing at all from Lindsey since…since California. His call log was filled with two men: Whitlock and Asshole.
Graham. He called last night. It was starting to come back. Jase washed down the aspirin with a swig of joe. Graham had called and said, “It’s Lindsey. Dry out and get your ass home.”
Or…something like that.
“Where’s my bike?” Jase asked.
“At the bar. If you move your ass, I’ll give you a lift. It’s not far.”