else who pays attention to song lyrics.”
“Eric won’t be surprised. I told him about you.”
“You did?”
“Mm-hmm.”
They stood in silence a minute, just clinging to each other.
“Crosby knew some about you too.”
“You told big-mouth Crosby?”
She chuckled.
“Speak of the devil — I mean, devils.” James released her and she turned around to see both her brothers at The Loft’s entrance. Crosby was leaning against a post, and Dylan stood scowling with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Just checking you’re okay,” Crosby called.
“I’m okay,” she called back.
“Then we’re going back inside.” He paused. “Mess her over, Marshall, and Dylan and I will put your ass in a sling — you got that?”
“Got it.”
Crosby held up his hand and disappeared into the building. Dylan followed after giving James an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, a la Robert deNiro.
James ran his hands up and down her arms. “Let’s go somewhere — somewhere quiet where we can talk.”
“It’s too cold to sit by the lake. What about my house?”
“Perfect.”
Chapter 27
When James slid into the driver’s seat, he turned to her with a big smile.
Laurel raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.
“This is a lot different than the first time we went somewhere together.”
“It’s a nicer set of wheels; that’s for sure.” She ran her hand over the leather seats of the BMW.
James turned the key and the engine roared to life. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of liked the old pickup truck you used to drive. I could slide over and sit right next to you. This one has a gear shift in the way.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint you, but that truck is long gone now.”
“Oh?”
“Now I’ve got” — she paused dramatically — “a ’91 Jeep.”
He smirked.
“I can see you’re impressed.”
A heavy silence settled over them, an almost unbearable emotional tension. James turned on the radio and fiddled with the tuner but found only static as he went up and down the dial.
“How soon they forget. You won’t get any reception here, not until we get a little higher up the hill,” she reminded him.
“I can’t believe it’s almost the 21st century, and there’s still no radio here.” He stopped at the sound of an electric guitar zooming through the speakers. Then, he recognized the song, a suggestive number about love in the afternoon. Awkwardness settled over the car. James realized he was humming and groaned inwardly. He stared straight ahead, knowing that turning off the stupid song would just draw more attention to the lyrics. He hoped she didn’t think he only wanted to get into her pants. Well, to be honest, he did want that eventually, but it could wait if waiting meant they would be headed down the right path together at long last.
Laurel tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle. He turned to look at her and saw she was grinning at his obvious discomfort. Her eyes sparkled in the glow of the dashboard lights. He waggled his eyebrows at her in invitation, and she started singing along with the radio. He joined her at the chorus, laughing, and he almost missed the turn off to the cabin. They were both singing at the top of their lungs by the time they reached her place. She zoomed her hand up into the air with the final chord.
As they got out, James leaned on the car’s roof, gazing at Laurel with a stupid grin on his face.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m just marveling at my good fortune. I can’t stop looking at you.”
She looked down, embarrassed, but then she took a deep breath and resolutely raised her head to face this man, the only man she would ever love. “I don’t understand . . . ”
“Don’t understand what, darling?”
“How this all could have happened so fast.”
“Fast? Laurel, we could have been together for years by now.”
“That’s not what I mean. I feel like I know you, but I don’t know you. Eight years is a long time. So many things have happened to you and for you — life changing events.” She slowed her pace. “Things I’ll never understand or be a part of.”
He started to pull her along by the hand, but then he turned back, coming to meet her and taking her other hand. “And you haven’t changed at all?”
“I haven’t — not down deep.”
He looked at her thoughtfully for a second. “No, I don’t believe you have. You are who you are: constant, steady, unwavering . . . ”
“Boring,” she finished.
He shook his head. “Deep, unending. The inner part of you simply exists,