“Completely,” I answer, cracking open one eye to glance at her. “This isn’t your first tour, though. Does it still hold any excitement for you?”
“Of course. I live for this.” She turns my way. In the sunlight, I see that her eyes aren’t simply brown but streaked with green. “It’s more than a career; it’s a dream come true. And one day, I’ll be in charge of my own bands.”
“I envy you. I don’t have a dream like that.”
Jules rolls to her side to face me, her head pillowed on the big, green hobo bag she always carries. “What do you mean?”
As I think about how to explain, a mime dressed in a tuxedo stops on the wide walking path and sets down a portable radio, which starts playing Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” I watch him dance and fight a smile. At the far end of the park, by the Ross Fountain, a guy in a kilt plays the bagpipes. Their music blends into a disjointed clash of sounds. It’s wonderfully horrible, and nothing I’d ever have experienced if I hadn’t taken a leap and gotten onto a plane with only the smallest bit of information to go on.
“I’ve never had a set dream job,” I tell Jules, watching the mime dance. “Never had an intense ambition. And sometimes I wonder if I’m defective that way.”
“You are not defective,” Jules says with feeling. “Maybe you just haven’t found what you love to do yet.”
I shake my head and smile. “No, that’s not it. I simply don’t really care what I’m doing as long as I get to live life, be happy, and enjoy new things. Making money is great because it helps me travel, puts a roof over my head. But at the end of the day? I’m not ambitious and never will be.” I shrug and pull a blade of bright green grass from the dirt. “Even worse? Eventually I want a home and to share it with someone who gets me completely, someone I can’t keep my hands off. I want babies, and to decorate my porch on Halloween and Christmas.”
Jules frowns. “Why is that bad?”
“Okay, it isn’t bad per se, but all my peers seem to have this drive to make their mark in the world. And here I am thinking that a simple thing like this—” I sweep my arm toward the looming hill face, which looks like a Victorian painting. “—is something to live for.”
Jules scans the scene before us, and a slow smile lights her face. “Well, then, I envy you more. Because I should be living in the moment. Worrying about what could go wrong in the future gives me fucking heartburn.” She chuckles, and her fuchsia curls bounce around her face. “And I really need to stop worrying about disappointing Scottie.”
“That’s easy,” I say. “Just remember he’s all bark.”
God, I love it when he barks, gets me all shivery and hot. Which should tell me I’m completely twisted.
Jules certainly looks as me as though I am. “Girl, I’ve felt his bite. Trust me, it’s real, and it’s scary.” But then she winces. “Shit, I forgot you’re with him now.”
“Consorting with the enemy, you mean?” I tease.
“Something like that.” She doesn’t look as though it really bothers her, however.
I rest my forearm over my forehead. “First off, I’m not with him. We’re…well, it’s complicated.”
“You don’t say.”
I laugh. “Okay, really complicated. But even if I was with him, I wouldn’t take sides or discuss anything we say.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Jules says with a breath. “I didn’t mean that, you know. I’m just…well, we’re all kind of surprised that you and Scottie are…complicated.”
I knew there’d be talk, despite Gabriel’s insane notion that if he decreed silence, they’d obey. Deluded man. I’m not surprised by Jules’s confusion. Oddly, I don’t really care if they all speculate or don’t understand. Because the flip side is that tonight I’m going to be sleeping in Gabriel’s bed.
A near giddy feeling of anticipation tickles my skin and tightens my belly at the thought of being wrapped up in Gabriel; it’s a full-body experience lying with him. He’s big enough to make me feel small and delicate. Yet his need for my presence makes me feel strong and worthy.
It will be torture pressing up against that hard body, my lips far too close to his smooth, tight skin that burns slightly hot. I love the way he smells, and the steady cadence of his breathing. These things are already indelibly marked in my memory and upon my skin.
Most of all, I love that I see a side of him no one else does. I want to know this man. I’ve just told Jules I want to live in the moment, but for the first time in years, I look toward the future with a bit of wistfulness and some fear.