Page 59 of Silver Edge
He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, hesitating for a second. “Ton called me.”
“He did? What did he want?”
He flicked on the blinker and moved the car over to the shoulder before he opened his mouth again. “What will you do if this doesn’t work? If…you no longer have a job at Bands?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know.” Silence filled the car for several moments. “What did Ton say? Let me guess, he threatened to beat you into a coma if you hurt me. Don’t worry. I won’t let him do that.”
“No. Worse.” Drake squeezed my hand and I held my breath. “Ton’s worried that you’ll spin into a downward spiral of self-medication and rage and you’ll end up dead in an alley.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Drake opened the front door to Bands for me and I entered, leaving the afternoon sun behind for my comfy all-black home. My anger toward Ton’s intrusion into my life had dwindled to resentment. I’d call him later and give him my own version of a Ton Tantrum.
When Drake closed the door, I spotted light flickering on the stage at the other end of the room. Chopin drifted from the stage speakers.
I stopped, but his hand at the small of my back nudged me forward. “I wanted you to know what it was like to feel special. To be treated the way you deserve.”
He steered me through the room and I saw more candles sparkling along the stage and around the side rails to the dance floor. In the center of the stage sat a blanket with hamburgers and French fries on paper plates. “I thought we could have a picnic with some of your favorite food. I knew that chicken salad was too mushy for you.”
“How did you know that?”
His hand moved up to between my shoulder blades. “It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how to explain. You’re worth the time and effort to get to know before we sleep together. I want to connect with you in a way neither of us have ever known. It might sound silly and sappy, but I want something real with you.” He ushered me up onto the stage and we both knelt on the picnic blanket.
I knew he was waiting for me to say something, so I tried to think of what a normal person might say. “Thank you.” It didn’t seem to be enough, so I added, “It’s nice. I like it.”
He lowered onto his side and crossed his legs, his smile telling me he was pleased with my response.
“Dig in before it gets cold. You must be starving.”
“I am.” I devoured the cheeseburger. Halfway through, I remembered I was supposed to eat like a lady, not like a teenage boy, but it was too late. He took a napkin and wiped up the ketchup at the side of my lips. I slowed down and concentrated on minding my manners. When I looked up again, I saw ketchup streaming down his chin.
I laughed and picked up a napkin, wiping the ketchup from his chin. I realized I didn’t have to try to be perfect. He was relaxing and enjoying himself despite my poor table manners. It felt good, but different.
We ate in silence as I let my mind flow with the music. When the piano concerto ended, I realized I’d checked out for a while. Drake sat by my side, lost in his own thoughts. It was nice to feel comfortable with someone without having to worry about paying attention and doing all the right things.
He slid our empty plates to the side and wrapped his arm around me. I settled into him and we listened to another piece, the notes hauntingly beautiful. At the end, I whispered, “This is nice.”
“I’m glad you like it. I do, too. I don’t remember the last time I just relaxed, without a computer, or cell phone, or some marketing plan.”
“Who did all this? You were with me all day.” Then I realized what time it was. “What about the reporter?”
“There was no reporter. I needed us back here at four because my friend had to be somewhere at five, so I wanted to get here while the food was still warm.”
“Oh, you’re sneaky.” I ran my hand along his chest, feeling the hard muscle through his long-sleeve T-shirt. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.” Drake ran his fingers up through my hair, and I liked it.
“Are you scared to sleep next to me again?”
“Not at all.” He scooted me into his side. “There’s nothing more I want than to have you in my arms again tonight. I was worried you’d insist on going back to the warehouse. I’ve been nervous all day about it, but if that’s what you wanted, I wouldn’t stop you.”
“You wouldn’t follow me back if I left?”
“I didn’t say that. I care about you too much to risk losing you. If you insisted on going back to the warehouse, then I was going to park myself on that dang floor again.”
I chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t put you through that.”
“Can I ask you to do something for me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
