I Run to You (35 page)

It was amusing to see the “tough chick”
flushing like that.

Jordan, in more subdued tones, filled her in
on what Max had done. Afterwards, Brook put her arm around her
shoulders. “I’m excited for you. It will all work out. Just don’t
give up.”

“I’m not.”

After a moment, Brook told her, “Give Max a
chance. He’s moving fast, I know. But he’s never been in love.”

Those green eyes looked away from hers. “I’m
giving him a chance. More than I have taken since I was a teen.
Believe me, this is a scary risk, all of it, for someone like me.
But I’m giving him that chance…”

“Good.”

It was the edge of dark when Brook finally
climbed into the jeep. She had said goodbye to everyone, and pulled
out.

Half way to Diamond Back, she noticed G.W.
tailing her, trying not to look like he was.

When she finally pulled in at her house, she
watched him make a turn.

Standing by the jeep with her cell, she
called him.

“Lo.”

“Thanks G.W.”

“Welcome, baby girl.”

“You so can’t…. tail someone, very well.”

He wheezed out a laugh. Then, being typical
G.W. said, “Had my Smith&Wesson loaded and ready to bark,
though.”

“Hopefully, you won’t need it.”

“Go in. I’m going to sit here pretending to
pull out until you do.”

She went in, after doing the code on a hidden
panel behind a sundial on the porch wall. “In.”

“Night, baby girl.”

“Night. G.W.”

Brook put her bass away, showered, and fixed
a salad. After eating that, she went to the deck to relax under a
starry sky.

Her cell was laying by her hip on the chase.
Rafe called, asking about practice, about Karla, and assured her he
would be at the club they were playing at that weekend.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Let’s get together next
week—come by for lunch?”

“Love to.”

They talked more and then Brook simply lay,
her gaze tracing the pattern of stars, fingers idly on the neck of
the chilled soda she had been drinking.

The cell rang again.

It was Levi.

“Can you hear me, Brook?”

“Yes.” She smiled. He was whispering.

“Dad doesn’t know I got the phone. But I
wanted to call and ask… if you’d be home tomorrow?”

“Before work, yes. I go in the evening shift.
Why?”

“Welp, I heard them talking about everyone
watching out for you, and all—”

Brook sighed.

“I have something to give you but I got to'
talk to dad first.”

Brook opened her mouth, and then closed it.
She thought a moment then said, “Okay. Thanks. That’s nice of
you.”

“If it’s okay with dad.”

She bit her lip on a grin. “Yeah. It’s nice
of you to call and check on me anyway.”

“I gotta' go now. “

“Right. Goodnight, Levi.”

“Night,” he whispered.

Holding the closed phone to her chest, Brook
swallowed several times. She could picture Levi in bed, sneaking
that call—sneaking the phone back, no doubt.

God what a special kid. She got up and went
to bed.

~*~

The next evening, her hair was still wet. She
was dressed for work in her black pants and top, when Coy’s truck
pulled in.

Walking out the front door, she watched Levi
get out on the passenger side, coming toward her, ahead of Coy, and
carrying a pup.

He had on jeans, sneakers, and Vol’s jersey,
his curly hair wind mussed as he reached her. “It’s all right with
Dad.”

Brook laughed, “What is?”

“The pup.” He reached the long ear'd beagle
out to her. “I trained him real good. Except for chasing ducks,
he’s the best dog ever.”

Going to her knees and taking the animal, she
held Levi’s gaze. “Oh, Levi. You don’t have to give me, your pup.
Maybe we could go out and you can help me pick one.”

“But they take too long to train. And I’ve
had him a year already.” He shook his head seriously. “He barks
whenever strangers come around. It won’t take him long to get used
to you.”

“But he’s your friend—.”

“Well shoot, that’s okay.” He grinned. “I got
all kinds of cousins and stuff.”

Wanting to just bawl, Brook instead let the
dog down, keeping hold on the leash. She reached out with her free
arm and drew Levi to her. “Thank you then. For giving me such a
special gift.”

He pat her back awkwardly. “It’s not a big
deal.”

As she drew back, Brook offered, “How bout I
bring him with me when I come to Renee’s, or Mom’s, and you can
visit him? He’ll miss you.”

“That would be cool.”

Brook looked up as Coy walked over, putting
his hand on Levi’s shoulder. His expression was a little wry, as he
had observed them. He told Brook, “I’ve have food and his bowls in
the truck. I’ll put them on the back deck?”

“Yes, please.”

Levi moved, squatting down to pet the pup and
scratch his ears.

She mouthed to Coy; (you shouldn’t have let
him give me his dog.)

He mouthed back, (His feelings would have
been hurt. He’s a Coburn man. He wanted to look out for you
too.)

She laughed, sighed, as he walked off to
unload from the truck.

“Why don’t you walk him around my yard so he
gets used to it. I’ll help your dad?”

“Okay.” Levi took the leash. His aqua eyes
touched hers before he walked off, and he said, “He likes being
outside. Once he gets used to you, he won’t run off. He might cry
some at first—”

“All right.” She grinned. “Thanks so much,
Levi.”

He took off, walking the dog in that little
boy stride.

Brook went in and crossed to the back doors,
sliding them open as Coy poured dog food into a trashcan with lid.
He set the bowl and water in the corner and then told her, “This
long leash should let him get to the yard. He’s used to sleeping on
the deck.” He waved to what looked like an awning. “That’s
something Levi made that he sleeps under.”

“He’s wonderful—your son.”

Coy leaned back against the rail, staring out
to where Levi walked the dog around the lawn. “He is.”

Brook’s gaze went over Coy's trendy jeans and
linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The breeze ruffled his
sun-streaked hair. In profile, the rugged bones of his face, his
nose, his chin, were incredibly handsome.

He turned back toward her, topaz eyes light
in his tanned face. “The pups really not much of a watchdog—”

“I know,” she returned softly.

They smiled. Their eyes held long
moments.

The sound of Levi coming up the deck steps
broke the spell. Brook murmured, “I need to get to work.”

“We’d better be going.” Coy ruffled Levi’s
hair. Levi settled the pup in, and after walking them out the
front, Brook hugged him again.

He told her before dashing down the drive,
“He likes music sometimes, cartoons too.”

“Okay. I’ll remember that.”

Levi in the truck and buckled, Brook leaned
against the porch brace watching Coy, who had opened the door but
stood there looking at her before he got in.

“You’ve have a busy night at the Tavern. Big
one tomorrow, too.”

“Yep.”

“We’ll all be at the club—”

“I figured.”

He wanted to say more. She knew. However, he
seemed to remind himself not to, and got in the truck.

When they were gone, Brook spent time with
the pup before she had to leave for work. She kissed the
bright-eyed beagle and laughed as it licked her hands.

“Guard the house.” She pat its head and
left.

Chapter 16

Coy sat with some of the Coburns, at the
club, listening to Brook and the band rocking the place Saturday
night. Madeline and Mitch were on the dance floor, as they had been
several times. Most of the clan had on “Audacious” T-shirts. Six of
the teens had helped set up, and worked as their crew earlier.

While he sipped a beer, Coy picked out Sunny
to the side, sitting with Max and Jason. Rafe was dancing with
Ruby. Everyone was having a good time. The crowd was younger,
though there was a dozen or so mixed age at the bar and tables. He
had to hand it to the women, the songs they played were upbeat,
energetic, and Renee, tonight in jeans and a lace belly shirt,
high-heeled boots, had belted out some impressive tunes.

Jordan was a hit. No doubt about it. Singing
or playing, even her “look” fit the atmosphere and club vibe. He
didn’t need to look to know Max was enjoying it, because she had
picked up the energy after the first song she sang, and by the
second one, was working the stage, and playing the hell of the
slide guitar.

Coy was a little back from the dance area, on
a raised section. He watched Brook most of the night. She wore
low-rise black pants that were skintight, a purple and black blouse
that lacked inches meeting the waistband. Her shoes had six-inch
heels. He didn’t know how she stood up in them so long. Her mussed
hair, smoky eyes, and the darker lips—were sexy as hell.

She hadn’t sung tonight.

Their current song ended. Coy clapped and
whistled with the rest. He saw Mitch reach Brook a bottle of water
and a cloth to wipe her guitar and strings with. The other girls
were catching their breath. Donna talked to the crowd, joking and
keeping them engaged for a while.

He scanned the club again; the lights were
dim on the patrons at the tables. He was aware that all the Coburns
were checking, watching to make sure, Karla, or none of her hangers
on were there.

Relaxing again, Coy attended the stage for
the rest of the set.

The applause and whistles afterwards lasted
long past the band leaving the stage. Their instruments seen to by
the (crew) most of the band were mingling, signing T-shirts,
napkins, anything handed to them.

Brook did several and then was making her way
to the exit. He saw she carried a beer. Jordan was swarmed with
people.

Coy caught Mitch’s signal and stood, walking
toward where Brook had gone. Music cranked up. A throbbing beat
sounding with multi colored lights keeping time. He stepped out
past the bouncers.

Coy found Brook sitting sideways in the jeep.
The doors and top off. She was sipping the beer and smoking.

She looked up as he walked over, having been
leaning down to take a shoe off, and flex her feet.

“You guys were great.”

“Thanks.” She was trying to reach something
in the back floor.

“I’ll get it.” He walked to the side, seeing
the three inch heeled shoes she was trying to get off the seat. He
handed them to her.

Cigarette in her lips, she put them on,
tossed the others in back, and then extracted it, blowing a stream
of smoke. The shoes she put on were boot like, to the ankle, black
and purple leather—European, designer, no doubt. Probably easier on
her feet than stilettos.

Hip against the jeep, he eyed her, smelled
her skin-dampened perfume—could see she had sweated on stage. Her
hair was damp enough to be sexy.

“Takes a lot out of ya.”

“Yep.” She took a long drink, her smoky eyes
slanting to him and then away before she lowered the bottle.

Coy had dressed for the club, jeans and
designer shirt, leather shoes, his best cologne on. He glanced at
her mid-section, back up, getting caught checking her out. However,
since she had looked at him, he figured the tension was mutual.

“Your adrenaline pumps before a show. Peaks
every time the feedback is good—and you think you’re drained the
moment you take the guitar off—but you’re high again.”

Brook nodded, swallowing a drink.

She moistened her lips in a way he felt in
the pores of his skin.

“You want to find somewhere—and have
sex?”

She took her time drawing on the cigarette,
crushed it out, in the tray, took a drink of beer—and was looking
somewhere toward the club when she said, “Was that a question or
were you still reciting?”

He waited for her to extract a mint she
acquired from the glove box. “It was a question.”

She looked at him, up and down him, and then
met his gaze. “Yes. I feel like having sex. No. You and I— aren’t
going to.”

Coy grinned—felt horny. He knew she did,
too.

Brook looked away again and sipped her
beer.

The throb and beat of music from the club was
muffled, but detectable. Coy suggested, “We can go in and dance. I
move well. You can rub ass on me. I’ll give you some grind—”

Her gaze turned to him, taking in his smile,
before she uttered, “You’re not very subtle tonight.”

“Taking advantage where I can,” he
admitted.

“I’m not dancing tonight. If I were—I’d dance
with Rafe.”

Coy let his eyes go down her slowly,
obviously. When he met her gaze again, he murmured, “That’s a dam
shame—because I think we’d move really good together.”

He pulled away casually and came to stand in
front of her, reaching for her beer. He took it, took a sip, eyes
on her.

“It’ has lipstick on it.” She said watching
him.

He ran his tongue over his lips, then leaned
down and kissed her.

It startled her. He felt it.

He took the seconds she was not resisting to
taste her lips and bite softly at the lower one, erotically.

Straightening again, he raked his tongue over
his lips, eyeing the expression she tried to shield by half
lowering her lashes.

Her perfume was intoxicating. Her
mouth—better than he remembered, soft and sexy. Coy stepped closer,
worked his way in the space her slightly parted knees allowed, his
hand sliding on the top of her thigh.

With a husk in his voice he suggested, “Why
don’t I rub it, till it feels better.”

Her hand covered his, stopping its progress
just at the end of her thigh, his fingers had inched slightly to
the inside.