Reprise Page 19

  Chapter Fifteen

  With a yawn Mallory rolled to her back, her body feeling rested and heavy. Over her head she stretched her arms, smiling when her back cracked. Damn. That had been a fantastic sleep. She wasn’t used to sleeping so deeply—

  With a start she sat up. The baby. Something must be wrong.

  She pulled on her robe and dashed down the hall, her heart thudding out a panicked rhythm. Until she pushed open the door to Angie’s room.

  “Oh, thank God.” She sank against the doorjamb, smiling at her own ridiculous reaction. In the recliner in the corner, under a lamp with a pink shade, Harlon Gray was dead asleep, head to the side and down, angled towards the sleeping face of his daughter. Angie was settled on her stomach on Harlon’s wide chest, hands out and holding onto the flannel shirt he was wearing, breathing through her heart-shaped lips. Harlon’s arm was holding her in place, the other on the arm of the chair, empty bottle in hand.

  He’d been working. Mallory hadn’t expected to see him until the next day, in the afternoon sometime. He must have driven all night to get home.

  Mallory moved forwards, carefully plucking the infant from him. As she did his arm tightened and she gave a “Shhh” before taking Angie’s weight. He blinked, swallowed, then smiled up at her.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he whispered, and she just shook her head before turning towards the crib. She settled Angie down on her back, tensed and waiting for the crying to start. But the little girl just scrunched up her nose, then was still again, chest rising and falling.

  “She’s fine, honey,” Harlon whispered, his voice low, rumbling his chest against her back.

  “I know. I panicked when I woke up. She wasn’t crying.”

  “She started when I got home. I didn’t want her to wake you up.”

  His arms came to her hips, then slid around to her stomach. She pushed at his hands, and he stopped caressing her, but left his hands where they were.

  “Mallory. What’s wrong?”

  She had no good answer. Her body was weird to her now, weight added in extra areas that had never made her self-conscious before. But now she hated the pouch at her stomach, and her hips and ass seemed flabby. It had been over two months since Anna was born, and she was cleared for sex, but she’d had trouble letting go.

  “Honey, talk to me. I miss you so much.”

  During her pregnancy Harlon had been surprisingly involved. And not just involved but supportive, attentive. Nothing could have made him more attractive than all that, and while her hormones had been all out of whack they’d been at it like rabbits. She’d been bigger then than she was now. She had no idea what her problem was.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “You’re beautiful, honey. Just...let me love you.”

  She wanted to. God, she wanted that so much. She was definitely in love with him now, and she truly believed he felt the same. The pregnancy had pushed them close in a very short span of time.

  His beard scratched her neck as he kissed it. “Let’s just go lie down. Let her sleep.”

  She clicked the lamp off, then let him pull her by the hand down the carpeted hall and into their darkened bedroom. There were still a few boxes she hadn’t had time to unpack yet. Maybe now he was home she could get around to putting away a few more things.

  The terrycloth robe was returned to its hook on the back of the door, then she slid back into bed while he pulled off his flannel and jeans. He was just in his shorts when he snuggled up to her back.

  He was hard. She could feel it at the small of her back, and part of her wanted to roll over and kiss him, let him make love to her like he always had. She needed to get out of her head.

  He mouth pressed kisses to her neck again, then to her shoulder. With one big, dry hand he smoothed down her arm. Her body clenched low at that touch and her eyes closed.

  “Honey, you are so beautiful.”

  She smiled, then his hand slid up her leg, taking her nightshirt with it. At her hip his hand stopped, and she knew he was waiting for some kind of permission. She’d stopped him there before.

  She wasn’t herself. Not at all. But it was in her head. To him she was the same as she’d always been. Even being there when their daughter was born hadn’t diminished his desire for her. There was no way to fake that. He still wanted her, still desired her.

  With breath held in her chest she rolled to her back under his arm, then put a hand to his cheek. Her nails scratched through his beard and she felt him smile.

  Her hand slid to the back of his neck and she pulled him down to kiss her. He did so, hungrily, but she could still feel some distance. Like he was letting her set the pace. She didn’t want that. She loved that he took over, wanted her so much he was almost lost in it.

  She pushed her tongue into his mouth, pulling at him so that he rolled his weight onto her. With a sigh she pulled her legs up, cradling his hips against her. Now he moaned and his hips flexed, and she felt the change in him as he pushed her hands up over her head, pinning them to the pillow as he nipped and sucked at her neck, throat, collarbone.

  “Harlon,” she gasped, willing her body to accept this. The more he kissed and caressed and moaned, the more she felt that doubt dissolving.

  Now his hands slid down to her breasts, cupping and squeezing them. It didn’t hurt, it felt amazing. As he brushed over her nipples with both thumbs her back arched and a cry slid from her throat.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded, opening her eyes now to meet his gaze. It was heated, dark, and wanting. She didn’t think he’d ever look at her like that again. “I’m fine,” she gasped. “Don’t stop, please.”

  He didn’t. His head bowed to pull a hardened nipple into his mouth. She hummed, back pushing up to give him all the room he needed. Her pulse was quickening, her joints becoming fluid. Her body was completely his.

  After fussing with a condom—muttering that he hadn’t needed to use one all those months—he slid inside her slowly, taking his time. She wanted him to move harder, but he was savoring her. She decided to do the same.

  His chest was hard, pressing her into the mattress. His arm under her lower back held her close, tilting her hips. His free hand cupped her side of her face before he kissed her again.

  She had no idea how long they writhed, moaned, twisted together. She did know that her first orgasm was sweet, the second much more frantic. When Harlon finished and they were catching their breath their little angel in the next room started wailing.

  Harlon laughed, breathless, his forehead resting on her shoulder. “Her timing is getting better.”

  Mallory smiled as he kissed her collarbone. “It is.”

  “I’ll get her.”

  “No, it’s my turn. You get your sleep.”

  He hovered over her, his erection still inside her but softening. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “You just got home. Get some rest. I’ve got this.”

  He slid free of her with a moan, then flopped to his back hard enough to bounce her on the mattress. “I’m going to sleep like the dead now.”

  She smiled, pushed her nightgown back down and got to her feet. She snuggled into her robe again and turned back to the bed before shutting the bedroom door, but Harlon was already out, on top of the covers, condom still in place.

  “Oh God,” she muttered, coming forward and flipping the sheets back to cover him up. Then she shut him in their room and headed down the hall to Angie’s room. Time to start the day.

  -oOo-

  “Mal, you been waiting long?”

  She jumped, startled out of her reverie by the voice shouting off to her left. She stood from the steps of the motel, squinting into the rising sun. “I thought you said we were leaving at eight. I’ve been here half an hour.”

  Hal managed a rueful grin as Gail stalked in front of him towards the rental van. They must have been fighting. Great. This would be a wonderful road trip.

  “Sorry. Shower took a little lo
nger than expected.”

  “Not long enough,” Gail snapped, yanking open the back doors.

  Mal stifled a giggle as Hal’s smile slipped. “Watch what you say, woman.”

  “Whatever. Let’s just get on the fucking road.”

  Behind Hal, Matt and V were following slowly, lugging their suitcases and looking pretty damn rough.

  “What did you guys get up to last night?” Mal asked as she stowed her bags in the back, along with all their gear.

  “Tequila,” V answered, voice rough as gravel. “Some of that shitty pot.”

  Mal winced. “You gotta stop using that stuff. There’s something in it.”

  “It’s fun at the time though,” Matt drawled, brushing past her to toss his bags on top of hers.

  “Where did you guys find that, anyway?”

  “Dealer’s got a new contact,” V said, covering his mouth as he yawned. “Bikers in Montrose.”

  Mal stilled, and she knew she was probably staring like a nut but she couldn’t help it. “Bikers?”

  “Yeah. They seem like good guys, though.” V scooted around her to get to the side door. She was too slow to follow so she ended up on Matt’s side, sandwiched between two detoxing musicians. Luckily they fell asleep almost immediately.

  Gail and Hal were frosty with each other in the front, so she stared out the window at the passing landscape while V’s head rested on her shoulder. He was out but at least he didn’t snore.

  The night before had been the first gig of their California road trip. They were now pulling out of Fort Bragg and headed to Ukiah. Tomorrow night’s show was taking place in a bar close to Mendocino College, so they were looking at a Friday night in a college bar. Mallory would rather suffer through another Harlon Gray mood change than sing for drunk frat kids but...whatever.

  She’d been outvoted.

  And her heart was still hurting. Fuck, it seemed impossible that the scar tissue Harlon had made of her heart years ago still had the capacity to hurt like this. No, she didn’t think they’d been destined for happily ever after. But his change in attitude had not only surprised her, it stung. All because...she didn’t even know why.

  No, she was done with him then. That was it. She’d given him a clear shot to hurt her again and he’d taken it. So...fuck him.

  -oOo-

  For a college crowd, they had good taste in music.

  They’d accepted the old rock and soul blend The Malcontents had to offer and were crowding the dance floor in groups and pairs. When the opening bars of Brown Eyed Girl started up the group actually cheered and a few more squeezed onto the limited dance space.

  In spite of her unwillingness to tour, Mal was finding this pretty fun. Even if they were drunk and high on whatever else they were enthusiastic and no one was throwing shit. It made for a nice change. The Wednesday night before in Fort Bragg had been to a half-empty house where people were conversing, not so much listening to the music and getting into the groove. She felt like asking them if the band should turn it down.

  Hal was right in his element. Girls in the front row were throwing fuck me eyes at him, and he was returning the favor. But he was also totally focused. He loved performing, and when the group really ate it up he was unstoppable.

  She was all too happy to take back-up on this song. Hal was jumping around, microphone a tether that kept him in place. He’d go into this weird Mick Jagger routine when he was really feeling his flow, and the strut was in full force that night.

  At the end of the tune Hal announced it was time for a short break and the DJ took over immediately, obviously knowing he needed to keep the kids dancing and thirsty. Mal followed her bandmates off stage to the beat up little green room right off the stage. It held a couch, three mismatched kitchen chairs and a table with a cooler of beer. Hal headed for the beer immediately, swinging his hair back off his face. Sweat went flying everywhere.

  “Gross,” Mal muttered, stepping around him to grab a beer for herself.

  “They’re loving you, baby doll,” Hal drawled, grinning as he put his arm around her waist.

  Mal gave an indulgent smile as she stepped out of his reach. “I think they’re drunk and high. But at least they’re behaved.”

  Hal laughed, throwing his head back. He was in full manic, adrenalin-fueled ecstasy. At least she thought so. “Well behaved. Fuck Mal, why you always gotta go and act you age?”

  She shook her head as V stepped up to Hal, reaching around him for a beer. “Take it easy, man.”

  “I’m always easy, ain’t I, Mal?” Hal was grinning at her again, and she reevaluated his emotional state. His eyes seemed okay, or were they glassy? It was hard to tell here.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah you do.” He approached her again, tugging on a chunk of her hair. She took a step back, he came with her.

  “Come on, Hal. Fuck off.”

  “Your tits are fucking perfect, you know that?”

  “Jesus, Hal. Let’s go outside, get some fresh air.” Matthew had hold of Hal’s arm and was pulling him back.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. But when you’re sober we’re discussing this.”

  “We’ll discuss this while my face is buried in ‘em, right between ‘em, while you ride me like I know you like.”

  She slapped him. Hard enough that the palm of her hand stung. Matthew then succeeded in pulling him out the side door to the alley. A cold draft blew through the room before the door shut behind them, and as Mal sighed and turned to find a place to sit. That’s when she saw Gail in the doorway from the stage.

  Shit.

  “Gail,” she said stupidly, not sure what else she had to say.

  “I fucking knew it,” the younger woman said, shaking her head as her lip trembled. “I fucking knew you’d fucked him.”

  “It was a long time ago.” Lies, of course. But Gail and Hal weren’t her business. Their drama was their own. She hadn’t helped anything but...

  Okay, she was a terrible person.

  “No, it wasn’t. But that’s okay. I’m fucking done.” And with that the little dark-haired pixie turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

  “Gail, Gail don’t!” V went after her, and all Mal could do was sink into a chair. Jesus. From a really great show to this high school bullshit.

  She was too fucking old for all this.

  “You guys are on in three,” a voice called from the stage, and she looked up at the club owner. He looked around the room, confused, his dark brow furrowing on the dark complexion of his face.

  She had no idea what to do. It was just her and...

  “I’ll be right out,” she said, getting to her feet again.

  “And the band?”

  “They’re coming,” she assured him. “I always start the second set on my own.”

  His eyes flicked over her, up and down, then decided he believed her. She followed, picking up the acoustic guitar from its stand while the DJ’s music was still thumping. She jacked in and approached her mic, suddenly nervous.

  She never performed alone to a group this young and raucous before. This wasn’t really her gig, she wasn’t strong on the rock stuff. She had an acoustic guitar for fuck’s sake. But she decided to explain herself, maybe that would get the group on her side.

  “Hey there. My name’s Mallory. As you can tell, I’m the tits of the group.”

  The crowd laughed and somewhere a dude yelled out, “Can we see ‘em?”

  She laughed but didn’t answer. “Other than the blessings I have physically, I also really like playing guitar. And I really like songs that make me feel like I’m somewhere else. So for just a moment, I’d like to play you something a bit slower. But grab a partner, someone you wanna hold close, and join me for some Janis Joplin. Okay?”

  Someone hollered their agreement, but she was already strumming out the start of Me and Bobby McGee. The room grew quiet, a few throats were cleared, and then she started singi
ng.

  By the time she hit the second verse Matt was at his drum kit and he added some understated percussion. V joined in on bass and they finished the song on a high note. There was a moment of silence, and then the group erupted into a loud cheer that Mal honestly hadn’t been expecting. She was grinning as she turned back to Matt. He was grinning at her, then nodded to V. “Poor Pitiful Me,” he shouted over the noise, and she nodded her agreement.

  Matt counted them down on the cowbell, then she added her Gibson. The crowd was already clapping before she even began with the first line. “Well I laid my hand on the railroad track, waiting on the Double-E...”

  V joined in for backup on the chorus, and to her surprise, he was really, really good. She didn’t think she’d really noticed his voice before.

  The crowd was hopping again. They were happy, and if they noticed the slightly folksy-turn the music had taken they gave no sign of minding. By the time she’d finished You’re No Good Hal was back on stage. He gave her a shaky smile but he took over the rest of the set and they didn’t lose their group at all. It was amazing.

  For the last song they broke out the CCR, Proud Mary. It was fast, a great way to end the show. Hal was back in fine form...right until the moment he collapsed.

  The mic hit the ground in a loud boom, and Mal was already rushing forward. She put Bobby to the side and crouching next to Hal as the room grew completely quiet.

  “Hal? Hal, come on. Wake up.”

  He was clammy to her touch, coated in sweat. He seemed to be breathing. Shallow, but it was there. She looked up into V’s face. “I don’t know what to do.”

  V pushed her out of the way, putting his head to Hal’s chest as Matthew shouted for someone to call 911. “He needs help,” V mumbled, straightening Hal on the floor.

  Mallory helped best she could. She got Hal’s arms out to the sides and helped him straighten his neck while Matt straddled his stomach. He started chest compressions, and when he looked at her she realized he needed her help. He needed her to breathe into Hal’s mouth.

  So she did. She waited, and after every three chest compressions she puffed into Hal’s mouth, willing him to start breathing.