I Run to You (22 page)

“I know. A relationship—is a lot more
complicated.”

“It is.” He sounded like he shifted in bed.
“There’s a place called Stokers—maybe you’ll end up playing at,
with the band. We’ll go there next week.”

“Okay.”

“Brook?”

“Yeah?”

He hesitated, sighed, and then said quietly,
“Don’t force it.”

“Force what?”

“Don’t try and make the relationship what it
can’t be, just for me. I will know it. We will know it. We will
always be friends. Close. Special to each other, Querido. That will
never change. But whether or not there’s more than this, what it
reaches…”

“I hear what you’re saying.”

“Good,” he uttered. “It’s not easy to say,
but I’d rather we both enjoy what it is, for as long as it is—than
expect what just doesn’t happen.”

Brook swallowed. “Okay.”

After a moment he asked, “You relaxed?”

“Yeah.” She lied. “Thanks. Call me next week.
I’m off at five on Wednesday.”

“Okay. Good night, bonito.”

“Night,

After he clicked off, she put the phone on
the bedside table.

Brook lay there listening to the rain. He
could have said—if we don’t fall in love—that was what he meant,
anyway.

She closed her eyes to sleep, her mind now on
Rafe—wondering if he had lain there after she’d left and decided to
tell her that. Knowing—she was the one who likely prompted it. She
could get intoxicated with lust, with the sex, even with the fact
it was good because she trusted Rafe like she hadn’t anyone else.
She felt safe letting go. Moreover, Rafe was the kind of man who
spoke endearments all the time. They rolled easily out with people
he cared about.

Mature relationships were hard. It was almost
like, Rafe knew her too well. She took a lot for granted, still
being very much the virgin in the relationship. He was experienced,
so naturally…

Shit. She rolled again and pulled the pillow
over her head. She had to stop taking everything apart. She
couldn’t even enjoy a wicked night of sex without taking everything
apart.

Chapter 11

The Diamond Back Tavern was so crowded
Saturday, that Brook had to park down the street. She got out and
waited for Jordan to park the motorcycle.

While smoothing her violet blouse, Brook
looked down at her low-rise black slacks and flicked some lint off.
She wore sexy shoes, because she didn’t plan to dance. Her hair was
styled chic her makeup smoky. Lips a darker shade than she usually
wore her lipstick.

“Damn they’re still coming.” Jordan observed
watching cars cruse by, looking for parking spots.

“Saturdays are crazy here.” Brook waited
while Jordan lit a short cigarette. Tonight Jordan’s hair was
different—with the long bangs to the side and down. It was metallic
silver and deep green. She had on slim leather pants; calf length,
and lace up boots, a sexy top, black, with minute silver thread. It
crisscrossed at the neck and breasts; halter backed, and rode an
inch above her navel.

Conscious that Max would be there tonight;
Brook smiled to herself.

They walked toward the entry.

Her brother was in love with this woman. Very
cool.

Jordan crushed the cigarette out and popped a
mint she had bummed off Brook. Her nails were silver. Brook looked
past the tongue piercing, the brow ring, and noticed Jordan’s make
up was a nice shimmery bronze hue that brought out her green
eyes—as did the hair, oddly enough. Her lips were clear
glossed.

“Ready.”

“Yes.”

They could hear the roar of talk as soon as
they entered. Bodies were so crammed everywhere that it was hard to
see where the booths and tables were, up front. Squeezing by
people, Brook reached back several times to help Jordan
navigate.

Madeline was standing by the back doors. “Hey
sweetie, Jordan!” She yelled above the den.

Brook rolled her eyes and they shared a
laugh. Madeline in typical black T-shirt, jeans and boots, was so
used to this, the patrons used to her, that Brook envied her the
ease in which she handled these crowds.

They got through the doors amid a microphone
test from the stage. Jason’s voice. People were standing, milling,
as well as taking up tables. By standing on her tiptoes, Brook
found Renee and the rest. She turned and mouthed to Jordan, “All
the way across to the right. Second table.”

Jordan nodded. They made their way around
everyone with a lot of, pardon me, excuse me.

Renee stood and greeted them with a smile.
Her cousin Donna was there, leaning back and talking to someone
behind her.

“I’ve ordered beer, okay?”

“Yeah.” Brook nodded at that yell.

Renee looked great she thought, while they
pulled out chairs. Her hair was cut in a new sexy style. She had
told Brook, with the band coming together; she needed something
fresher and hip. She wore a pair of nice Levis that fit her curvy
hips and toned legs perfectly—a dark blue tailored blouse, nice
stacked shoes.

Trying to talk over the chatter was so
impossible that Brook was glad when the strum of a guitar made
people quiet down. The crowd shifted, clearing the dance area and
finding their tables or a wall space, while Jason talked over the
mic.

“Hey, everyone. The elders couldn’t be here,
so I hope y’all don’t mind if we rock the house instead?”

There was defending roar of approval.

Jason chuckled. “Well thanks. We’re going to
mix it up, try, and get y’all up and dancing,”

Whistles greeted that. “And maybe do a few
ballads and love songs. Of course. We reserve the right to just go
the hell off too.”

Laughter, whistles, and yells shook the
room.

Sitting to the side, Brook could view the
lighted stage. Jason and the band all wore black jeans and trendy
tailored shirts. Jason’s was blue. Coy was a little back, tuning
his guitar near the drummer. The drummer and bass player had Coburn
blood— young men and handsome in their own way. Coy’s shirt was a
sorrel color. The other guys were in white and green.

Another young man with tambourine stood a bit
to the side. He wore a black shirt—and she would guess, sang back
up, but also played an array of instruments.

Just before Jason was due to count off the
intro, she saw Max climb up from back stage. He was not dressed as
they were but wore sharp slacks, a ribbed black shirt that molded
his buff body and broad shoulders. It was a designer, obviously. He
looked like the old Max in it.

Oh, man., she laughed silently. He really
wanted to impress Jordan.

She was curious to see if anything would
unfold tonight, between them. She had a feeling that Jordan was
oblivious still, to Max’s attraction to her.

Max was checking one of the amps. Coy ran
through some chords then gave him thumbs up, and Max went back into
the shadows.

Madeline brought their beers. She leaned down
and told Brook, “Have fun. Dance.”

Brook grinned. Madeline winked, talking a bit
to the other girls, before she had to serve the next table.

Taking a long pull of icy beer, Brook felt
the vibrations as the band began to play.

The room came alive. Everyone at the shadowed
tables, back from the dance floor, did too.

Jason, who had a smooth bass voice like
Mitch, began to sexily sing, James Otto’s, Just got started loving
you, with Coy singing harmony. Women in the club were going a bit
crazy. Jason, the rascal, winked and grinned, ramping up the sex
appeal.

She heard Renee laugh, and glanced over,
gathering that she and Donna were joking about Jason’s playing up
to the women. A peek at Jordan beside her showed Brook that she was
taking it in, watching the crowd, and the band.

Brook had told her beforehand that the
Coburns, born and raised here, always drew a crowd. They were crowd
favorites. All of them gained experience from childhood up, being
put on the stage and singing/playing at fairs and festivals. They
played a wide range of genres, from bluegrass/blues, to country,
southern rock, and pop. Their ease on stage and rapport with the
audience was something performers could learn a lot from.

Brook tried to mentally get into the reason
they were there, and to have fun. She was guilty though, of
remembering times she and Coy had played together. She would not
let herself remember the times they sang together— times he had
sung to her. She had driven herself crazy doing that the first year
she’d left. Certain songs, certain times, she would pick up her
guitar and just fall apart. It had been a long and rough road
getting over him.

Hell. She took another long pull. She finally
knew what sexy was, thanks to Rafael. He made a woman feel like she
was the most beautiful, desirable creature, alive. Sex did
that...

“I know where your mind is,” Renee leaned up
and teased her.

Brook laughed and wiggled her brows before
attending Jason on the stage again. They rolled from that song into
a couple of faster dance tunes that got the crowd up and moving.
When possible, she and the group at the table talked, answered some
questions Jordan had. Mostly, they just enjoyed good music,
sometimes laughing at people who had a few too many on the dance
floor, and were staggering into other people.

Sometime in the following hour, in the middle
of a rocking classic, Brook had to make her way to the ladies room.
She got there, stood in a long-ass line, and afterwards made her
way back to the rear, seeing Sunny and Max standing at the edge of
the stage, talking.

She would just bet Renee was over there
squirming. Sunny had his hair down. Even Brook had only seen it
down twice, and admired the beautiful silken stuff that reached mid
back. It made him look like a pure blood Indian, but also it just
gave him that unique thing that made other men pale by comparison.
He was in jeans and western boots, a denim shirt, looking
delicious.

They spotted her as she was making her way
across. she waved. Reaching the table, getting one look at Renee’s
face, told her the woman had seen Sunny.

“You okay?” Brook asked leaning over.

“Fine.” Renee smiled. But it was strained.
Her eyes were on the corner of the stage.

The lighting shifted. Donna had gotten up to
talk to someone. Jordan was watching the stage, as Brook was. A
softer spotlight came down. Coy was taking off the guitar strap.
Max went up and took the instrument before backing into softer
light.

Mic in hand, Coy said to the crowd as he sat
himself on the edge of the stage, “Bad knee. I think I’ll sit down
for this one.”

They laughed.

It was clear from the notes that he was
preparing to sing a slower song. Feeling as if everyone at the
table stared at her, Brook tried to appear impassive.

Coy, tried to act blasé while waiting for the
band and glancing at their table.

She recognized the tune before he started, as
Nickleback’s, Far Away.

Sitting a bit from the table, Brook rested
her hands in her lap casually and skimmed her gaze around.

She should have invited Rafael to discourage
this very thing.

He probably would have declined, insisting it
was a “girl’s night.” but she could have talked him into it…

Oh-hell. Brook, she muttered in her mind.
What’s the deal? Rafael is your lover. You do not feel anything for
Coy. You’ve been over him for years.

“I keep dreaming you belong to me…” Coy
sang.

Brook’s eyes went back to him.

“I love you; I have loved you all along…”

Shit.

He came off the stage, and was holding the
mic in his hands, walking across the dance floor, toward the
crowd.

“Hold onto me, never let me go.”

She pressed against the back of the chair,
and stayed that way, until the last strains faded.

Amid a roar of yells and applause, Coy dipped
his head in thanks, but his eyes scanned toward Brook, before he
went back to the stage.

“Da-hmn,” Jordan muttered.

Brook looked at her.

The woman was just—staring at her.

“He’s talented,” Brook cleared her throat and
looked away.

She was relieved when Jason began a Braid
Paisley’s silly song, I’m still a guy. The men in the crowd were so
loud cheering; it helped clear the residue of Coy in her head.

Before their first break, Max came up to
their table.

He greeted everyone, leaning down near
Jordan, and Brook smelled his “expensive stuff,” cologne. Her
brother was beyond handsome. He looked sharp tonight. But Jordan
was a tough cookie.

He was saying to Jordan, “You play lead
guitar and they need someone in next set, on Cryin…Aerosmith. Do
you know it?”

“Yes—but—”

Max took her hand and had her on her feet
while she was still trying to speak.

Brook snickered. Renee gave her a “what up?”
look.

She wanted to tell her about Max’s feelings
for Jordan, but instead, explained that Max just dragged Jordan up
to play with the band’s next set.

Renee beamed. “Cool.”

They knew she would get to run through the
song beforehand. In fact, after pulling her on stage, Max picked up
the guitar off a stand, and then they vanished, off the backside,
in the shadows.

During that break, Jordan was still back
there.

With the jukebox up, the dance floor full,
Renee got up to “Stretch her legs.” Brook noticed she stretched
them in the direction of Sunny, who was talking to patrons.

Watching her mother and Ashley serve and wait
on customers, Brook smiled at the rapport between them. They yelled
back and forth at each other, laughing and joking. The women knew
how to work a crowd in their own way while the band was busy.

Brook stood, giving her own legs some
circulation.