Trapped Under Ice (7 page)

“Are you cold?” he asked, taking his hands from the rail to rub her arms.

His touch felt so good, she found herself leaning back against him and closing her eyes. How long had it been since she felt a man’s touch? She turned to peek up at him. She had to know if he felt the same way she did.

Chad took his hands from her arms and placed his fingers behind her neck. She froze, unsure of what he was doing. He gently rubbed his thumbs across her mouth, his eyes taking in the delicate curve of her lips as he touched them. Then, his eyes lifted to hers, and she saw in them anguish and need and pain and…something more. He bent closer, inch by inch, tantalizing her as she craned her neck, rising up on her toes to reach him. His lips finally claimed hers with a rush.

His lips felt,
oooh, so good, and she realized for the first time how wonderfully full they were. With a moan that filled them both, he kissed her more deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth, his hands sliding down to pull her closer. When he finally pulled away, she almost cried out in protest.

Where she was hearing Paul’s voice earlier, Chad now heard a harsher voice, his father’s.
You’re not good enough for this girl, Chad. She’s outta your league. Find yourself one of your usual floozies. You need a little one-night action. You’re incapable of true love. You’ll wind up hurting her in the end
.

This was the thought that truly terrified him, but it was as if he couldn’t help being drawn to her. There was something there he couldn’t define.

“Beth, I...” He could find no words to speak to her. This was all so different for him. He had never felt a kiss like the one he had shared with her—one that pulled from the inside out, originating in his core, not igniting on the surface and finding its way down. He pulled her close again and she laid her head on his chest. He leaned down to rest his cheek on the top of her head, and clasped it to his chest with one large hand. He wanted this woman in a way he wanted no other woman. But, for the first time in a long time, he was at a loss as to how to achieve what he needed.

As he tried to sort through the jumble of emotions interwoven in his head, he slowly became aware that the shoulders of the woman he was holding had begun to shake and tears were dampening his t-shirt.

“Beth. Beth. What did I do?” he queried, trying to lift her face. That voice in his head bounced out of the shadows,
you’ll wind up hurting her in the end
, and then danced off to some other deep recess of his mind.

“You didn’t do anything,” her muffled voice came from his chest, where she was trying to bury her face in her hands. “Dammit,” she blurted out, pounding him suddenly in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Wrong with you? There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Oh, so you often have women who break down sobbing when you kiss them?” she cried bitterly.

“No.” He had to laugh. “This is a first.”

She raised her head from his chest, the tears still shining on her cheeks, and began to laugh, too.

“Oh, there you two are.” Roger crossed the threshold onto the deck. Beth turned away from him, and although Chad’s arms were around her, the bassist could tell he’d interrupted some sort of conversation. “I just thought you’d want to know, the band’s playing one of our songs.”

Chad and Beth started laughing. The idea of an orchestra playing Trapped Under Ice was absurd, and pretty soon the three of them were in hysterics.

Roger was glad to see her laugh. If she was crying, like he thought she was when he’d come out on deck, she needed the pick-me-up. She was a nice girl, and he really wished she weren’t getting involved with Chad. Chad was his best friend, but he was also an emotional basket case, and that wasn’t good for anyone.

CHAPTER SIX

The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful. The threesome returned to the table and kept the conversation on a safe level, just the kind of easy banter they all expected with Roger along. After awhile Chad attempted to hold Beth’s hand again, and she rubbed her thumb across his, putting him at ease. When they strolled back to the car, after telling the affable doorman good night, Roger and Michelle again walked ahead, leaving them alone, though Roger occasionally threw a look over his shoulder.

Chad’s arm was around her, continuing to try to keep her warm as the temperature had dropped several degrees more. He loped along without speaking, not sure about how to start a conversation about what had happened. Beth, for her part, was also quiet—perhaps tired from the emotional turmoil she had gone through. As she walked, she began leaning more and more into him, sliding her arm around his waist and laying her head down for brief periods.

When they reached the car, Chad opened the door for her. Michelle and Roger had already climbed into the back. As he moved to go around to his side of the car, she pulled him back, kissing him sweetly before getting into her seat. With a sense of relief, he ambled around to the passenger’s side, sliding in beside her. The car ride back was silent except for some soft music playing on the radio. Michelle dozed off and the champagne finally seemed to calm Roger.

In the glow from the dashboard lights, Roger could see Chad and Beth’s hands intertwined, resting between them on the middle console.
God help her
.

***          

At eleven o’clock, they finally pulled into the bumpy dirt lane leading to the private property their tour buses were on. The buses were huge monstrosities, a sort of cross between a bus and RV, with collapsible stairs leading up to a small landing outside the doors. As they pulled up to the clearing housing them, Chad wondered again over the buses clearing the low-hanging branches edging the road.

Michelle woke with the jarring movement, and Roger leaned up, startling the two in the front seat, saying with a funny accent, “Now you know our secret location,
ve vill haf to keell you, you know?” When the car rolled to a stop, the pair in the back got out, giving their thanks and goodbyes, and then climbed the steps into the light of a welcoming bus.

Chad and Beth stood by the car, watching the couple. Then, with the click of the door behind Michelle and Roger, they were left in dead silence. Chad leaned against the car. He reached out for Beth’s hips and pulled her close as she turned around to face him.

“Stay,” he spoke the single word softly.

“I can’t,” she murmured, toying with the zipper-pull on his coat. “I’ve got Cassie back at the hotel.” It sounded like an excuse. He crooked a finger under her chin, and gently lifted it. “I can’t.” Her whispered response was swallowed up in his kiss.

He hoped his kiss would persuade her to stay, but Beth pushed away from him and turned, stepping off a few feet as if to clear her head. She ripped a leaf from a nearby tree and stood shredding it in the moonlight.

“Where will you go after St. Louis?”

“Detroit, I think,” he murmured.

She nodded her head, but said nothing. Without warning, she turned on her heel and rushed toward him. “I’ve got to go,” she barely got out, reaching for the car door handle. “I’m sure there are some girls…but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He tried to make sense of her words, but the only thing he understood was that her voice was shaky and she wasn’t making eye contact with him. Catching him off guard she quickly slid into the car seat and closed the door behind her. He sat for a minute with his fists on top of the car’s roof, peering down through the glass at her, but she didn’t look up. When the engine started, he backed up a few steps, and then she was gone.

He turned away from that last image of her. “Dammit!” He let the old, comfortable rage fill him again. Striding forward, he kicked a tree’s trunk, forgetting he wore tennis shoes, not his boots. He swore again, this time under his breath, remembering his friends were sleeping. He yanked on the door of the bus, stormed in, and poured himself a scotch.

***
         

Beth was grateful for the long ride back to the hotel so she could collect herself before Cassie saw her. Why was she so crazy emotional tonight? She trudged tiredly down the narrow hall to her hotel room, surprised to find the lights off when she entered. She saw the lump she knew was Cassie on the far bed. She followed the lone light into the bathroom where she found a note on the hotel stationary.

Sorry I couldn’t wait up, Mom.

Long day. Hope your date went

well.—Cas

She could see Cas’s mischievous grin as she wrote the last line.

Beth glanced up to catch her reflection in the mirror. The makeup hiding her bruises had worn off and her exhaustion made her skin paler, her few wrinkles deeper.
I look like hell. Thank goodness Cassie is asleep. She would know I was upset in a heartbeat.

Leaving the relative comfort of the lighted bathroom, she crossed the room to the sliding doors that led out to the balcony. She opened the curtains a little bit to gaze at the moon. Her heart felt heavy. Eventually, she ventured out onto the balcony. She was relieved Cassie hadn’t stirred with the cold air rushing in. She leaned against the high railing and gazed out across the Mississippi.

Why am I letting myself get so worked up over this? You’d think I was thirteen again or I hadn’t gotten asked to the prom. Only I did get asked to the prom, sort of, but I couldn’t bring myself to go.
Being in Chad’s arms felt so good; it transported her to another time, another man’s arms. She loved Paul with her whole heart, and now, somehow, the good feeling of being in the arms of a man got wrapped up in the anguish she felt when Paul died.

She paced back and forth in the small confines of her balcony, becoming angry.
What’s wrong with me? Am I never going to love again? Am I too afraid to try?
With a sudden conviction, she reentered the bedroom and wrote Cassie a note. It read:

Be back shortly.—M

She could think of no reason for her to be out at this late hour, so she hoped if called upon, an inspired answer would come to her.

***         

As Chad sat on the steps leading up to the bus’s door nursing his scotch, he suddenly found himself framed in headlights.
Who the hell would be out this late? I thought Keith was in the bus.
He was in no mood for company; that was for sure.

He set his glass on the steps, raising a hand to shield his eyes. He squinted, peering into the darkness. As it got nearer, the car cut its lights, cut the engine, and rolled slowly to a stop. He got to his feet as she exited the car. Beth stood for a few seconds, messing around with her keys. Then, she ran to him, dropping them in the grass.

Without thinking, he pulled her off her feet and swallowed her in an embrace. He laid a cold cheek against her warm one and squeezed his eyes shut. “You came back,” he spoke huskily into her ear.

“I had to,” was her only reply.

They stood there like that for several minutes, not letting up on their embrace for fear of losing it. Finally, he set her down.

She peered up into his face. “I want to stay with you, Chad.”

Normally, he wouldn’t need to be asked twice, but he stood there frozen for a second or two.

Beth gazed at him, her brow furrowing. “Did I make a mistake?”

“Dammit!” he fumed, turning from her and kicking at the dirt. He stood with his hands on his hips, back to her, looking up at the stars as if, for all the world, he expected them to give him answers. He whirled and moved toward her. Her face was lit from the outdoor light of the other bus. He strode forward so purposefully that she took a step backward. “I have to know if you are sure. If this is not right for you...” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Chad—” she started to answer, but without warning he scooped her up in his arms.

“Okay, good enough for me.” He kissed her as he carried her back to a second set of steps in the middle of the bus. Balancing her on one knee, he struggled with the door. He deposited her inside, climbed up behind her, and closed the door.

“Is Keith here?” she whispered.

“Yeah, his room’s up there.” Chad gestured to the front of the bus. “Mine’s this way.” He grabbed her hand and led her through the blackness, cursing under his breath every now and then as he tripped over something. Finally, he opened a door and reached in to flip a switch.

The room was flooded with light, and Beth stepped into a surprisingly nice bedroom. A king-sized bed with burgundy sheets sat in the middle of the room, unmade. To the left was a wet bar with a mirror behind it on the wall and a set of three lights hanging from the ceiling above it. On the right was a door she suspected led to a bathroom. As she turned around to see the rest of the room, he snuck past her and subtly tried to straighten the bed. To the left of the door they had just entered through was a large desk with cubbyholes built into the wall above it. Splayed across the desk were sheets of music and packages of guitar strings. To the right of the door was a large, ornately carved wardrobe, which she thought too pretty to hold the t-shirts and jeans she imagined it did.

Beth turned around, and Chad rose up on one elbow in a casual pose so she wouldn’t see him fixing the bed. It was almost comical, but she kept herself from laughing, considering that when he had kissed her earlier that evening, she cried. If she were to laugh now, when she suspected they were about to make love, it might be a final blow to his ego.