Page 62 of Making the Save
She started to strum one of her bigger hits and she sang it with her dirty angel voice, that, now that I knew her, was even hotter than it had been before. She was sweetness and sin and a broken heart. For a woman who didn’t think about sex, she made everyone who heard her voice think about it.
Which now that I thought about it, kind of sucked for her. She kept getting put in a box by other people deciding who she was without ever knowing her.
She hit the final note and I put the axe on the ground so I could clap and whistle. “One more!”
“You think you’re getting a free concert?” she asked.
“I’m hoping I am. Play something new. That song you were humming in the car yesterday.”
“That’s not ready for anyone to hear,” she said, her cheeks going pink. She didn’t think I noticed in the car, but I noticed everything. She hummed, she chatted. She pointed out birds. She chatted some more. She sang along with her playlist.
“Maybe later?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
I would take that as a yes and keep splitting wood while she played guitar on my porch. I can’t say I ever imagined this scene playing out in my cabin, but it was amazing. Amazing until my back finally said enough already.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Getting old sucks.” I twisted from side to side to stretch out the muscles.
“You’re hardly old. Did you hurt your back chopping wood or on that lumpy sofa?”
I gathered up the split logs and put them up against the house under the eaves so they would dry out.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“That’s what all the dude bros say. I can give you a back rub if you want?”
Yeah. I want.
I gave her a knowing look. “What about your rules?” I asked, and made a show of looking around. “I don’t see any press around to convince we’re in love.”
She shrugged and quickly glanced away. “You’re right,” she said and bent back over her guitar. I’d embarrassed her and I hated that. She wasn’t to blame for this situation.
“Hey, there’s a natural hot springs about a mile up the mountain, if you want to go check it out?”
She perked up. “Yes, please.”
“It stinks like rotten eggs but it feels great,” I told her. “You’ll need a suit under your clothes and sturdy hiking boots.”
“I have sneakers.”
I made a mental note to get her shoe size. If she was going to spend time on the mountain, she really needed boots.
“That will do for today. Hike’s not too bad.”
She popped inside to put away her guitar and I put my shirt back on. I had a list of chores I could do. However, what I really wanted was to take her back into that cabin, press her into that comfortable queen size bed and show her what this body she was staring at could really do.
I knew playing by her rules would be hard, but that was before that kiss. And that car ride.
Now, I knew her favorite movie wasLove Actually.I knew she loved eggs with or without ketchup, but not with hot sauce. She drank her coffee black. She liked the way I looked when I chopped wood. I knew the way the sunlight hit her green eyes and turned them to emeralds and her voice was pure sex and pure heaven combined.
And…she needed a friend.
I wondered if she realized that. Not a paid half assistant/half mother figure. Not a manager telling her what to do. Not some sham of a fake boyfriend.
Not a fake husband either, I supposed.