Beginning to Believe (4 page)

“Nah, today’s games are set up for the youngsters.” He gave Kit a wink. “Unlike surfing, you don’t improve with age in volleyball.” He got up and stretched. “Besides, I’m getting hungry and the company here is just fine.”

Ty got a pleased little smile from Kit. “Go on, feed that monster in your belly before it eats you alive.”

“What can I bring you back?”

“Cooked meat on bread -- any flavor. I’m not picky, so long as it’s dead.”

Tyler chuckled. “Condiments -- or just the dead meat?”

“Just dead meat. I’m a simple man.” The phrase sounded familiar, well used.

“All right, Mr. Simple Man. I won’t be long.”

He headed off across the sand, the sun good and hot on his back, the waves hitting the shore, the sound just whispering underneath the crowd and the music playing. Tyler picked up four hamburgers and a box of fresh cut fries, chatting amiably with the guy behind the grill.

On the way back he ran into Melissa and Teresa, the twin girls giggling and touching and hugging and finally letting him go after a promise to show up at their double wedding in the fall.

Tyler was pretty hard by the time he got back to Kit and the sight of the cowboy lounging in his chair did nothing to make that change.

Kit had pulled his hat down low over his eyes and looked as if he could have been a thousand miles from the nearest person, still and quiet. Weird, given that Kit was surrounded by people.

He cleared his throat, not wanting to wake the man if he was napping.

Kit smiled gently, nodded. “Looks good. Thanks.”

“Just a couple of burgers. I figured we could share the fries -- fresh cut and you can still smell the grease.”

He passed one plate and pulled his chair up closer to Kit’s, letting his legs spread comfortably, unembarrassed about the wood he was sporting. Kit took a quiet look, but didn’t say a word, digging into the burger with a healthy appetite and making random small talk.

The sun was starting to set by the time they’d done eating and Tyler collected their garbage and took it over to a can.

He came back and settled again. “You just let me know when you’ve had enough. I brought a blanket, though, in case we got cold.”

“Are you happy just sitting up here? I mean, it’s a party and the dancing and serious fun will be starting soon. I... I don’t want to cramp your style.” Kit didn’t seem embarrassed or angry, just a touch uncomfortable. “This is so awkward, isn’t it? The balance between I don’t want sound like I don’t want to be with you and I don’t want to be a huge stone around your neck.”

Tyler reached over and slid his hand along Kit’s thigh. “Just relax, Kit. If I didn’t want to be here, you’d know it -- I tend to speak my mind.” He chuckled. “You may have noticed the open mouth insert foot phenomenon several times already this evening.”

Kit nodded, but those eyes were on his hand, just watching, a little stunned.

He squeezed gently and pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first.”

“What?” Kit met his eyes, blinking. “No. No, please. I... No one does. No one ever acts like they’re even there. It felt good, is all. It just felt good.”

Ty chuckled and put his hand back. “Sorry, thought you thought I was being forward. I can see where they might not get noticed though – people get too focused on that sweet little ass of yours to notice your legs.”

There came that sweet blush again, lighting Kit’s face right up. How this man ever made it on stage was a mystery.

It was endearing, and it made Tyler want to lean forward and give Kit a kiss, see what that would do to those cheeks. At the same time, he was enjoying getting to know Kit, the easy sitting together and sharing and wasn’t sure he wanted to press for more just yet. So he sat, smiling into sweet brown eyes, hand moving slowly on Kit’s thigh.

The big muscle in Kit’s leg jumped under his palm and it took him a while to realize it was moving in time with the music, Kit listening to it, moving to it. He’d bet the man had been a wicked dancer back before the accident. Tyler himself was humming along, on finger starting to tap against Kit’s leg.

“Do you like to sing?” The question was soft, wistful. “You can sure carry a tune.”

“I like to sing along. And in the shower -- it’s not really a shower if I haven’t belted out a tune or two.”

“I can understand that.” Kit nodded, eyes on the sea.

“Have you really given it up? Totally completely?” He didn’t want to push the sore subject, but it just seemed so unbelievable to him.”

“I... I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t think I can. I didn’t get to go to any of the funerals. The other guy that survived, he did. And what all those people wanted to know was why we lived and everybody else died.” Kit swallowed hard, lips pursed. “It was my singing that had us all in that bus. My career. My music. My act. It seems like a fitting thing -- to give that up, to let all those families know I cared too.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to give up, Kit. I mean, you lost your legs, do you really think any of the people who were killed would have wanted you to stop singing?”

“I don’t know, Ty. I guess I never will.” Sad, quiet eyes met his. “Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t about them. It’s about me. It’s about trying to stop being guilty of living when the past comes haunting. It’s about trying to makes amends.”

“You never thought you might make amends by using your talent and going on with what they supported you in?” Tyler knew he was being pushy, but holding back just wasn’t his style. Neither were regrets or living in the past.

“I am using my talent, Ty. I run one of the more solid indie labels in country music. I’m no fool -- the entertainment business is about looks and talent. I was in rehab when my singing career died. Nothing -- not a thing -- was going to bring that back.” Kit shook his head. “I don’t expect anybody to understand. It hurts to think about singing, to dream about used to be. So I don’t.”

“I can’t say I understand, but I’ll respect your feelings and try not to push. Well, mostly -- do you mind if I ask why you can’t sing but you can still play and work in the industry?”

“Like I said, I’m no fool. I have connections; I have a good ear. I know good music.” Kit arched an eyebrow. “It’s not like I can go work the horses with Daddy, now is it? I play because I can. That’s not really what I did before, I was the singer, not the picker. Besides, I never said I couldn’t sing. I said I don’t.”

Ty nodded. “I worded the questions wrong. I know you don’t sing, my point is you choose not to do that, because you say it hurts too much -- it doesn’t hurt just to be in the business?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it feels good. Sometimes it’s just a job.” Kit offered him a smile. “I guess that’s part of it. Singing was never about the job, about the money. The performing, the dancing, the work? That was hard and tiring and work. The singing? It was about loving and living and being happy. It was about believing.” Kit looked down. “And I reckon I’ve made myself look like a real fool to you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re a fool, Kit. I do think it’s sad that you’ve stopped believing.”

The words sort of hung there, the light fading away over the ocean. Tyler was about to speak when Kit’s voice sounded. “I loved Tim with all I was. In ten years, we didn’t spend more than eight hours apart. We lived together, we worked together, we sang. I had been sitting in his lap when the wreck happened and I went to the front to grab a copy of the itinerary. If I believe, then I have to believe that I was meant to be here alone and Tim and rest of them were meant to die.”

“I’m really sorry about that, Kit.” Tyler squeezed the man’s leg again. “Of course if you don’t believe you were meant to go on, can you? The wheel keeps turning; the universe doesn’t hand out rewards for being stoic. You don’t believe you weren’t mean to live, you won’t, not really.”

“I don’t know what I believe anymore. I don’t know that I can. I get up in the morning, exercise, drink my coffee and go to work until it’s time to stop.” Kit chuckled. “Well, that and decide I need a friggin’ motorcycle and meet a most interesting man.”

“You see,” Ty gave him a warm grin and leaned in a little. “The wheel keeps on turning, the universe offering you new opportunities if you look for them.”

“Is that what you are? A new opportunity?” Kit’s cheeks were pink again, eyes smiling.

“I’d like to be, Kit. I really would. If you’re ready to look for one.”

“I... I hope I’m ready, Ty.” Those eyes were warm, steady. “I want to be.”

Tyler leaned in until their lips were almost touching. “Well how about a kiss? Are you ready for that opportunity?”

“I... Yes. I could maybe manage that.”

He closed the distance between them, torn between closing his eyes and concentrating on the taste of the kiss, the feeling of Kit’s lips beneath his own, and watching the kiss happen in Kit’s eyes.

He kept his own eyes open.

Kit’s mustache and beard were soft, tickling his lips, those eyes warm and dark, almost black in the moonlight. He slid his tongue out, licking at the soft lips and the ticklish hair; it made him smile. Kit moaned, lips parting, eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Kit tasted like burgers and beer and something deeper, more lasting. Ty dipped his tongue in. The kiss was gentle, warm. Clumsy in that way that only first kisses could be.

It was nice and as he drew back, he knew he wanted to do it again. He thought maybe it was Kit’s turn to make the next move, though. The guy had gone this long, it wouldn’t do to rush him.

“Oh. My.” Kit leaned forward, touched his cheek with those callused fingers. “That was nice.”

Tyler nuzzled his cheek against Kit’s fingers. “Yeah, it was.”

“Would you like to do it again?” The words were careful, drawled slow and sweet. Sexy.

“Oh yeah.” He sure would.

“Me too.” Those lips brushed against his, the kiss feather-light and gentle, Kit’s tongue just sliding over his bottom lip. It felt good. Tyler slid his own tongue out to meet Kit’s. Kit gave him a quiet little groan, and the kiss deepened, just hinting of Kit’s banked passion, that quiet, hidden hunger. He brought his hand up to cup Kit’s head, tilting the man just a bit, tongue sliding in deeper.

As gently as it started, he let the second kiss end. This wasn’t the place for making out like teenagers, well, the beach might be the place, but the middle of a party wasn’t the time.

It made him chuckle -- he was getting older; there was a time he wouldn’t have cared how many people were milling about.

Kit grinned over, settling back in his chair. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome and thank you.” Tyler grinned back. “That was very nice and I hope we can do it again sometime soon.”

Kit started chuckling. “Yes. Perhaps we can schedule in another meeting.”

He laughed. “We could always just change locations.” He made the offer casually.

“Do you have a location in mind?”

“Well, I live over the shop. Got a great view of the ocean. There’s stairs,” he added as an afterthought.

“I can manage stairs, but it’s clunky and slow and definitely not sexy.” Kit smiled sheepishly. “Not that I’m incredibly vain or want you to think I’m sexy or anything.”

“Are there stairs at your place?”

Kit’s smile widened. “Not a one. Would you like to see where I live? Have a cup of coffee? Change locations?”

“I like the sound of that a lot, Kit.” Tyler leaned in to give the man another kiss, sweet and slow, the hairs still tickling, making him smile again. Kit tasted his smile, the softest moan sliding over his lips. He pulled back with a grin. “We’d better go before I get too involved to care where we are.”

“Yeah. I guess we’d better.” Kit squeezed his hand. “Help me up?”

He nodded. “What do I need to do?”

“Pretty much just stand still and help me find my balance.” Kit grasped his upper arms and nodded, then pulled until they were standing together, Kit weaving just a bit.

He put his arm around Kit, helping to steady him, not unhappy with being close to Kit’s body.

“Oh.” Kit looked over at him. “You could make standing up something special.”

Then those cheeks darkened again.

Tyler nuzzled the warm cheeks. “It would be my pleasure.”

Another soft moan sounded and Kit rubbed their skin together. “Let’s go before I forget how to drive.”

“If you can make it back to your truck on your own I’ll pack up my stuff and then follow you home.” Tyler chuckled. “Like a stray dog.”

Kit laughed. “Oh, Lester and Lindy would love that. They’re always looking for a playmate.”

“You’ve got dogs? Cool.” He gave Kit another quick kiss. “All right, cowboy, I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

He watched Kit head off for a moment, impressed at the way Kit handled himself in the sand, then started gathering everything up. Ty sure hoped Kit wouldn’t have changed his mind once they’d gotten to his place.

Chapter Four

The ride home with Tyler following behind was too quick, too slow, too much and not near enough. Kit kept flipping radio stations, worrying, wanting, mind going ninety to nothing over shoulds and coulds and oughtas. The party had been nothing like he’d expected -- well, the music was, and the games, but the company? Damn.