His Melody (25 page)

“Two?” Melody echoed, slightly confused. Maybe Blanche really was becoming senile.

Blanche’s face turned grave. “If you don’t take that boy away from here with you, I fear the future for both of you. I see a terrible storm headed your way.” She shook a warning finger. “Some kind of terrible.”

Melody nodded. What could she say to that?

“Bye now. Remember what I said to you. All of it.”

“Bye. I will,” Melody said. Not like that would get it to make any more sense to her. She watched as Blanche hobbled toward her grandson’s car. Remy got out of the car and opened the passenger side door. He tried to help his grandmother into the car, but she slapped his hand away and settled into it at her own pace.

Once Melody found Leigh Anne in Zip’s, Leigh Anne asked what had taken so long.

“Just saying goodbye,” Melody said with a shrug.

“Oh, is she going somewhere?” Leigh Anne asked as she studied the label on the back of a can of refried beans.

“Her grandson is taking her back to Louisiana with him.”

“It’s about time.” Leigh Anne tossed the can of beans into her basket.

“He thinks she’s senile.”

Leigh Anna frowned a little. “He’s probably right. That poor dear.”

Melody followed Leigh Anne down the aisle, trying to decide if she agreed with that assessment of Blanche’s mental state or not. Blanche might have been a little strange, but everything she’d said had made a great deal of sense, and she’d ended up being right about a lot of things in the end. What if Blanche continued to be right? She’d mentioned something about a storm headed Melody’s way.

She didn’t need another storm in her life
..

She felt a small shiver
;
Blanche’s last words stuck in her mind.
Those and thoughts of Austin.

Chapter Thirty-One

Monday night, Melody, the Holts, Nina, and Regan went to a small diner for her farewell dinner. It was no Rose’s Diner, and it didn’t quite compare to the meals Leigh Anne cooked either, but the food was still very good. Especially the chicken fried pork chop, which Nina had insisted she try. Austin shared a piece of his steak with her, and it was so tender, it melted in her mouth.

She and Austin had come to an unspoken and fragile truce. The number one rule of it was that she wasn’t allowed to mention one word about music or record labels. The fact that she was running out of time made things worse. She dreaded the phone call she had to make to Saeed the next day. She’d promised to call him on Tuesday, and she knew better than to break that promise. That and her last conversation with Blanche kept nagging at her.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight, after dinner,” Austin whispered from where he sat next to her.

She grinned and whispered back, “You do, huh?”

“I have a going-away present for you.” His green eyes locked on hers in a blazing gaze.

“Okay.” She managed to keep the smile on her face, but the words “going-away” made her stomach sink. He really wasn’t coming with her. “You sure my car is fixed? You really don’t need more time to work on it?”

“What, you doubting my automotive skills?” Austin asked, eyebrows
raised
in a playful fashion.

“No. Just wishful thinking.”

He reached over, grabbed her hand, and gave it a squeeze.

From across the table, Regan said, “Melody, I remember you saying something about wanting to learn how to ride when you first got here. I know you don’t have much time left, but how about you come over tomorrow morning and I’ll give a crash course? Horse riding 101.”

Melody nodded. “I’d like that. Thanks, Regan.” She hoped no actual crashing would be involved. But she was active. She weight trained. How hard could it be?

“I’ll drop you at Regan’s place on my way into the shop tomorrow morning,” Austin said.

“Okay,” Melody said. So she was finally going to get to learn how to ride a horse. Everything felt so final all of a sudden. She put her hand on Austin’s thigh as if keeping physical contact with him could keep her from losing him in just a few short days. She’d never fallen for someone so quickly. The thought of being torn away from him was nearly unbearable. Austin slipped his hand beneath the table and squeezed hers.

She knew falling for one of the label’s artists was forbidden, but none of it really mattered. She was almost certain she’d never convince him to come to Atlanta. She was leaving, and he was staying. Nothing going on in her melting heart mattered one bit.

Across the table, Regan started talking about one of her tractors and something that was wrong with it. She gestured across the table with her fork and said, “Hey Austin, you know anything about tractor motors?”

“Little bit,” Austin said.

“You think if you came by and took a look at this one, you could do something with it?”

“Might could,” Austin said.

“Thanks,” Regan said.

Melody grinned.

He grabbed her side and then let his hand rest on her hip. “What?”

“I’m going to miss the way you talk,” she said, a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. “That’s all.”

“You better miss more than that about me.” He pulled her chair closer to his.

“Of course I will,” she said, squeezing his knee. Her smile faded.

Chapter Thirty-Two

After dinner, Austin drove Melody to an inn on the edge of town. He drove to the back of the property where a row of small cottages stood and parked in front of one of them. The red door had a gold number three on it. When he killed the headlights, the walkway in front of the bungalow remained illuminated by hanging lanterns that’d been placed on either side of it.

“What is this?” she asked.

“You’ll have to come inside and see.” He got out of the truck, walked around to her side, and opened the door. She stepped out, standing next to him in the small parking lot facing the cottages. The distant, quickly fading rays of the sun gave everything a dusky golden glow. He slipped a big, strong hand around her waist and guided her up the walkway and over to the red door. He took a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and shoved it open.

“Austin,” she murmured.

He left her to admire the room while he struck matches and lit the candles that had been strategically placed around it. She noted an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it. A silver bowl full of chocolate covered strawberries sat next to it. She wandered from the living room to the bedroom of the suite. The dark silk duvet was covered in rose petals. The room smelled like vanilla and coconut. An open bottle of massage oil sat on the nightstand. She picked it up and read the label. “Coconut,” she said to herself and smiled. The vanilla scent seemed to be coming from the candles.

She went back to the living room where Austin sat, shirtless, on the arm of the loveseat.

“I don’t even have an overnight bag here,” she murmured as she drank in the sight of his pecks and perfectly sculpted abs.

“Sure you do.” He pointed to a corner. A small, black carry-on suitcase rested there. It looked brand new. “Everything you need should be in there.”

“But how’d you pack that without me noticing anything missing?” She should have noticed. She’d been packing for her trip back to Atlanta—albeit slowly and reluctantly—earlier that day.

He chuckled. “I went to the store.” He stood and stretched; a delicious ripple moved through the muscles of his shoulders and arms. “I’m nothing if not thorough.”

“I see,” she said. She bit her bottom lip as he started toward her.

“After tonight, there never will be a way you’ll be able to dream of such a thing as.” He ran his hands up her arms. “Doubting.” He brushed her neck with his lips. “My.” One hand dipped to the small of her back while the other caressed the nape of her neck. “Thoroughness.” He mumbled the last word against her neck before giving it a moist kiss. He trailed his tongue from her neck to the corner of her lips. She hungrily pushed her lips against his, melting into the kiss that she craved—the touches that were always on her mind.

“I’ve wanted this all day,” she whispered hoarsely.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I first saw you,” he said. Kissing her again, he pulled her onto his hips without ever separating their mouths. She wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her arms around him, bracing her hands against his strong, muscular back. She ground her hips against his as their kiss deepened. This won a small groan from him.

He carried her to the bedroom with her legs still wrapped around him and their lips still locked together. He tangled his hands in her hair. She needed that—needed him.

“Slow down,” he whispered between kisses. He set her down and she started to protest. “Sh.” He laid a finger against her lips. Backing away a few steps, he adjusted the crotch of his pants and licked his lips before running a hand over the short bristles of his blond hair. She moved closer and rubbed her hands over the back of his head.

He groaned and gave her a hooded look that made him look hypnotized and wild with desire at the same time. He pulled back a little with obvious effort and unbuttoned her short-sleeved blouse, running his finger lightly over every new inch of skin he exposed. When he was finished with the buttons, he pushed the shirt away from her shoulders and placed a hot wet kiss between her breasts before probing the skin there with his tongue.

She gasped, not having known it was possible to want one person so much. She would’ve done anything—given up anything—in the world just to have him keep touching her. She shrugged out of the blouse, and he planted those searing kisses over the top of her breasts, over her collarbone, and
upwards
until he was at her mouth again. His tongue moved over hers, tasting every inch of her mouth at a slow yet intense pace. He seemed to be restraining himself. He didn’t have to on her account.

“More,” she murmured, pressing her body against his. He deepened the kiss and slipped her bra straps down from her shoulders. Unhooking it, he let it fall to the floor. She whimpered softly at the sweet, pleasureful yet tortuously slow circles he traced over her nipples. She reached for his belt buckle, but he took her hands away, shaking his head. She pulled his hands back to her breasts and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He moved his kisses lower until he was kneeling in front of her. He unbuttoned her shorts and unzipped her zipper slowly while stroking her inner thigh. When he finally slid the shorts down her legs, she eagerly stepped out of them. He removed her panties at the same maddeningly slow pace.

Burying his face between her legs, he breathed in deeply and groaned against her skin, caressing the backs of her thighs with his thick, sure fingers. His hands moved up to cup her bottom and she grasped the back of his head. “Austin, please.”

He placed teasing, hot kisses along the sensitive skin where her thigh met her hip before blowing on it. Her legs weren’t going to let her keep standing. She was weak with pleasure; her knees trembled.

He made his way back up the length of her body, his kisses and touches leaving a heated trail as he did so. He lifted her up and placed her on the bed.

“On your stomach,” he said while stroking her hair away from her temple.

She rolled over, and he straddled her. The fabric of his jeans was rough, but in a not unpleasant way, against her naked skin. He leaned over and she watched lazily from the corner of her eye as he grabbed the bottle of massage oil from the nightstand. She heard him rub his hands
together,
slicking the oil over his palms, before his strong, oiled hands began massaging her neck and upper back. Every inch of her screamed out for his touch. His expert hands kneaded into her sore, overworked muscles.

“You’re too good at that,” she said breathlessly.

He answered by taking the movement of his hands lower and deeper. She melted into his big, strong, capable hands. She went into a trance-like state as his fingers worked into her muscles, relaxing and thrilling her at the same time. She craved his touch.

He worked his way down her body. When he kneaded his hands into her buttocks, she let out a rich moan.

“I need you inside of me,” she said. “Please.”

He continued massaging her rear. “Yeah?”

“Now.” She writhed under his hands and repeated the word, shouting it this time.

He raised himself up so that she could flip over. She tore at his belt buckle, fumbling with it, frustrated at not being able to get it open quickly enough. He helped her, and together, they pushed his pants down and through his boxers, she saw the erection she’d felt against her legs earlier. She ripped at his boxers until he was naked.

He reached into the nightstand and pulled back with a condom. She impatiently tugged at his earlobe with her teeth until he had it on. He settled his hips above hers and rested his elbows near her ears.

“Melody,” he said as he slid his hot, huge hard-on into her. She moaned as he filled the place she’d ached for him to fill so completely ever since they first kissed.
She arched her hips toward him and slid her hands over his back as he pushed deeper. They locked eyes, and she knew she was done for. She was completely his, whether she wanted to be or not. Whatever happened after that night, no matter how far apart they were physically, a part of her would always be his.