Along for the Ride

Jason politely suffered a stream of admirers eager to talk and hear him play. He was obviously much better known as a performer than Georgie had been aware of, and she listened to the fans’ comments with interest. Cal looked on, observing the people and their comments discreetly, his fingers gently stroking his beard.

Georgie scanned the place. A woman on the stage was singing a throaty jazz ballad. She wore black satin hipsters and an evening jacket. It hugged her perfect body like liquid. She had nothing beneath the jacket, and her breasts moved gently against the material as she swayed to her own song, the soft, mobile flesh threatening to sneak free but never quite doing so. Her hair was short and black, sleeked back, giving her a feline look. She directed her song at a fluffy blonde woman in the audience. Her lover, plainly. The blonde alternately blushed and leaned into her words, lips parted with pleasure at the attention.

Georgie was still smiling about it as she continued looking around. When she saw a familiar face, her smile disappeared.

“Oh ... damn!”

Cal noticed and looked in the direction of her gaze. The man was walking toward them, his glacier-green eyes focused on Georgie as he approached. He glanced briefly at her companions before he spoke.

“Georgie. Well, hello. I heard that you were in the city. Then I saw that photo of you in the Tattler this morning, doing your catwalk thing.” He threw a curt glance at Cal, assuming he was her companion. “I thought I’d look you up sometime, but here you are. How perfect.”

Georgie shuffled uncomfortably in her chair. The last thing she’d thought the fashion show shoot would bring to her was Richard, her ex.

“Hello, Richard,” she snapped, flushing with annoyance.

Cal stood up, offering his hand to the other man. “Calvin Rolf. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

The man took his hand reluctantly, giving it the merest hint of a shake before his fingers returned to adjust the collar of his shirt, dismissively.

“No, we haven’t met.” He didn’t offer his name.

Cal turned back to Georgie, but all she could do was look away and stare at the table, lips pursed in annoyed silence.

“Shall we dance, Georgie, before our friend plays?” Cal’s voice soothed her immediately.

What a perfect idea. She glanced at Jason. He was deep in conversation with a group of three at the next table. There were a handful of couples dancing to the piped jazz music that punctuated the performances. She stood up, smiled warmly at Cal, and took the outstretched hand. They left the table without a backward glance at the man who stood behind them, watching with a bitter expression.

Cal claimed her in a swift but subtle move, taking her into his arms on the dance floor.

She sank into him, her feet following the music without thought. She was too unsettled to know what song was playing.

“An ex?” Cal asked, against her ear.

“Was it that obvious?”

“Let’s just say the atmosphere turned icy.” He drew back and smiled at her.

“I was surprised to see him, although I don’t know why. He often spends time in London. I guess bumping into him sooner or later was inevitable. He’s from Randlethorpe, my home in Gloucestershire, and he’s a friend of the family. It was a mistake and ...” Somehow describing it as a mistake didn’t cover it. “Well, it was over last year.” Her words were spoken with grit. Richard had become a damned nuisance, and she didn’t relish the thought of him hanging around again.

Cal held her firmly, his hand soothing against her back. He led her with one hand against her hip, the other in the small of the back.

She linked her arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “Mm, I like the way this feels.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Humor darted through his expression. “Sometimes the old ways are the best.” He leaned down to kiss her mouth.

She’d never get enough of how that felt. The way he breathed his lips over hers and then claimed her deeply. She could feel every ounce of him pressed against her, moving rhythmically and keeping her in tow, and boy, did it feel good. She was disappointed when the track ended. She glanced around, but mercifully Richard was nowhere in sight.

“Thank god, he’s gone!”

“You ended it with him, didn’t you?” It was a statement more than a question.

Georgie merely nodded. Cal looked curious, but thankfully he didn’t pry anymore. She wasn’t ready to discuss her “mistake.”

When they got back to the table, Jason had also gone. He was backstage preparing for his performance, and Georgie forgot the unwelcome distraction when he came out on stage. He had abandoned his jacket, his simple black T-shirt the perfect agent between his tawny skin and the amber color of his guitar. The place fell silent as he strummed a few notes and settled onto the chair left out for him. The lights had dimmed, save for one focused on his guitar. It caught his features and hair as he leaned over the instrument.

Georgie absorbed the aura of anticipation in the place and looked at Jason’s fingers. When they began to move, so carefully, gently, across the strings, she thought of how they had touched her body, how they knew her innermost secrets. As they wove out the beautiful sounds, she experienced every note. Intimately.

He played with a grace and knowledge she had never witnessed in a musician before. He was intricately bound up with the music, at one with it. The sounds were discreetly seductive, speaking to her of warmth, the subtle charm of sunshine in a secluded garden, the kiss of a forbidden lover. As the tempo rose, his head went back, his eyes closing as he moved through the sounds, building up to the passion and power of the piece. He looked so handsome, his face cast part in shadow as he leaned back from his instrument, then closed into the light as the piece built again.