Chasing the Sun Read online

  “So do you think you would be up for singing a song with me? I have one I’ve been wanting to do forever, but my guitarist doesn’t have the right voice for it. And when I say the right voice, I mean he can’t sing for shit.”

  Ian laughed. “Well, I can’t really sing all that well either.”

  “Ian, I heard you singing earlier, you have a great voice. Trust me.”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never sang on stage before. I mean, I sang back up for a band I was in back in high school. But singing in a garage in front of six girls doesn’t count.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I guess not. Well, let me send you the link to the song. Take a listen and let me know…you surprised me tonight, Ian.”

  “Oh yeah? How so.”

  “I don’t know. You play beautifully and you’re just so down to Earth. I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “Huh. Why? Do I look too establishment for your taste?”

  She chuckled and shrugged. “I guess I shouldn’t judge by appearance.”

  “Well, sometimes it’s spot on. You, for example. You looked kind of hippy-ish to me and now that I see your place and your chunky cookies, it all fits.”

  “Hippy-ish?”

  “Yes, and it’s not a bad thing. My dad was like that until Birkenstocks went out of style and his boss forced him to switch to loafers.”

  “Tragic.” She laughed.

  “I know.”

  She looked at him for a minute. He hoped he hadn’t offended her with the cookie comment.

  “That’s enough for tonight, don’t you think?” Rory asked pushing herself off of the floor, taking their water glasses with her.

  “Oh, yeah. I guess it’s getting late.” Ian started to gather his things. Shit. He’d offended her. Fucking loose lips. Why did he always have to say what he was thinking? Just shut up for once.

  “No, I didn’t mean for you to leave.” she said over her shoulder. She came back in with two glasses filled with ice and a bottle of Jack. “You can stay for a drink, right?”

  Ian took in her tight tank and frayed jean shorts, which made her legs go on forever. Her hair was in a braid over her shoulder and her lips were pressed together. It was sexy, she was sexy. And he really wanted to stay for a drink.

  “Sure, I could have a drink.”

  “Good.” She walked past him and went onto the patio.

  There were two colorful fabric chairs. There was a copper lantern in the shape of a spiked orb hanging in the corner. It was dark outside, so when she flicked a switch, the lantern gave off a warm light. Potted plants lined the perimeter. It was cozy, he liked it. It made him want to relax and have a few drinks.

  He carefully lowered himself into a chair that was very close to the ground. Rory plopped down and crossed her legs over each other.

  “So your dad was a hippy? I’ll bet he was the one that bought you your first guitar.” Rory guessed, pouring the dark liquid into each glass.

  Ian grabbed the one she offered.

  “Thank you…Well, he didn’t live in a commune or anything, but he was a free love, pot smokin’ type in the 60s. I think he had visions of me playing his folk song favorites after dinner or something.”

  “And did you?” she asked with a smile.

  “By the time I was good enough to play said favorites I wasn’t really into Peter, Paul and Mary or Joni Mitchell. My balls had dropped just a few years before and I didn’t want to send them back up.”

  She sniffed. “You’re funny, you know that?”

  “Um, I think I’m funny. But it doesn’t always translate…I did like Crosby, Stills and Nash, and Simon and Garfunkel, which was my dad’s favorite. But what I really wanted was an electric guitar. I finally got one just in time for my Alice in Chains obsession. That’s where playing in my friend’s garage came in. We were the hottest thing on Lakewood Ave and the coffee shop on 5th.”

  “I’m sure your whole audience was girls.”

  “Pretty much.” They both laughed and she poured another.

  “What about you? When did you start singing?”

  “Well, speaking of communes…”

  “No!”

  “Yes. I lived in a commune outside of Boulder for the first eleven years of my life.”

  “Bullshit! Are you getting me back for the hippy comment?”

  “No. No, I swear. My parents are, in fact, hippies. We lived in a self-sustained community. We grew our own fruits and vegetables. We would sell goods to the local grocers and sold vegetables in a stand by the road. That’s how we earned money…Anyway, we didn’t have television, so for entertainment we would sing and play instruments…When I was seven I was washing my clothes…with a washboard and barrel.” She nodded, letting him know she was serious. “And while I washed I was singing “Puff the Magic Dragon,” I’ll never forget it. One of the elders just happened to be walking by and that night I was singing in front of everyone. So I was thrown into it, but I took to it, ya know?”

  Ian had been intimidated by her at first, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was her confident swagger and her whiskey-sex voice. He was pleasantly surprised at how easy she was to talk to and that they had a lot in common, despite her communal upbringing.

  “I was the rebel of the commune, which meant I wanted to go to a movie and shave my armpits…I even went as far as stealing my dad’s straight razor. I was ten and I hid it in the folds of my skirt. I hid behind a tree and dry shaved. No mirror, nothing.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Tell me about it. The dumb part was there was a stream like five feet away…It was a complete hack job. My arm pits looked like crop circles when I was finished.”

  Now they really started laughing.

  “Did you get caught?”

  “Of course I did. I was bleeding through my shirt. It was so embarrassing. Luckily my mom was starting to tire of life in the wilderness by then and saw my rebellion as a sign that it was time to move back to civilization. She’d grown up in Denver. She’d been in love with a boy and he was killed in Vietnam. She went a little nuts and left her old life behind. That’s how she found herself living in the Shire. And that’s where she met my dad.”

  “The shire? Like where the Hobbits live? No way.”

  She rolled her eyes, “I know…the founder was obsessed with Tolkien. He even made us call him Gandalf, which was weird because he was a short and chubby Mexican…Aha! The fact that you knew that proves you’re a closet geek,” she teased.

  “Oh, I’m out of the closet, trust me. Well, not out of the closet, out of the closet…just geek closet…oh fuck it.” He finished his drink, the ice clinked against the glass.

  She poured him another.

  “I knew it!…But don’t worry, I find geeks very sexy.” She smiled seductively, but it had a hint of tease to it. His favorite kind of smile.

  “In that case, I feel it necessary to tell you that I have Star Wars pajamas and a pair of Iron Man boxers.”

  “Ooooh, I’m all hot now.” They laughed again. Then there was a quiet moment as they both took a sip of their drinks. Ian looked over at Rory and smiled.

  She grinned and dipped her head—a rare shy moment for her.

  “Wow, that’s crazy… a commune. That must have been strange for you. I mean when you moved away.”

  “Yes.” She laughed. “I was the only one in my school that didn’t know what My Little Ponies were. I thought they were talking about real animals. And when they asked if I liked Madonna, I told them I wasn’t Catholic…Needless to say it was an adjustment. But as you can see, I’ve blended the two worlds. Austin is the perfect place for a singer with hippy sensibilities.”

  “I agree.” He glanced down at his watch. “ Oh shit, sorry, I have to go, it’s getting late,” Ian reluctantly admitted.

  Rory nodded and stood up. She offered him her hand and helped hoist him from his low perch. When he stood they were a whisper apart. Rory was tall, and if she took one step her lips would touch his neck. She ran her hand up t
he front of his shirt, but kept her eyes at his throat.

  “I had a nice night.” Her voice was low and breathy.

  Ian put his hand on her waist, slipping his thumbs under the fabric. “Me, too.” His voice mirrored hers.

  Rory lifted her gaze and pressed her lips to his. It was gentle, just a brief touch from her plump lips. She pulled back again and smiled. When Ian gripped her a little tighter she lightly ran her tongue across his bottom lip. Ian’s body was vibrating, he was so turned on. When she pulled away again he crashed his mouth onto hers. A tangle of tongues, a bite, a lick. The bourbon on her tongue tasted sweet and the breath from her nose, sweeter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and wrapped her leg around him. He grabbed her bare thigh and pulled her in to him—not caring if she felt how turned on he was. He wanted her to know, to feel it. She was making sounds in the back of her throat, almost a humming sound, and he wanted nothing more than to rip off her clothes and throw her down on that hard futon.

  So he did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sun was spotlight bright, and when he gained consciousness he became acutely aware of that fact. For a split second he panicked that Ruby was home alone and then he remembered. He pushed the sadness away and decided to look on the bright side. At least now he could have sex sleepovers. He’d rather have Ruby, but he was trying to be optimistic.

  He raised his head and found himself alone, sheets in a strange pretzel shape at the foot of the bed. He’d had a lot of Jack the night before, but not enough to erase the greatness that was sex with Rory Monroe. Holy shit, he’d come twice, which was not such an easy feat now that he was in his mid-thirties. She blew him like a hurricane wind and swallowed the evidence, which was about the hottest thing a girl could do for a guy, in his opinion. He usually liked to be in control, but she’d straddled him and rode him within an inch of his life…well eight inches, give or take.

  “Shit, work!” He scrambled out of bed. He fumbled around for his boxers, almost falling over with one leg in and one out. Phone? Where was his phone? It had been in his cargo shorts the night before and that’s where he found it. It was nine o’clock, not too bad. He saw he had a missed call from Trey and he felt a twinge of something, kind of felt like guilt. He’d deal with that later.

  He called the project engineer on site and let him know he was running late but would be there within the hour. He’d never been late nor missed a day, so it wasn’t a huge deal, but it irked him that he might come off as unprofessional. He dressed quickly then paused at the closed door. Rory was out there. He knew how girls could get after sex. He just hoped she wasn’t going to get all clingy and weird. That had happened to him a time or two. Go to bed with cool and laid back, wake up with needy and possessive.

  He prayed that wasn’t going to be the case. He thought she was a cool chick and a fucking smokin’ lay, but he didn’t want anything serious. He didn’t have time to worry about it, he needed to get his ass to work.

  He walked out into the living room to find Rory sitting cross legged on her linen bean bag chair, a mug of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. When she heard him come in, she smiled.

  “Hey. I didn’t know if you had to be somewhere or not, but decided to let you sleep. I figured you needed to replenish your fluids.”

  Good teasing, he could deal with this.

  He laughed and said, “Yeah, it was some night.” He waited for her to get up, but she didn’t. “I have to get into work, so…”

  “Yeah, right on. I sent you that link to the song I want you to sing, check it out.” She went back to reading her worn paperback.

  Okaaaay.

  “Well, I’ll see you later then?”

  “Sounds good. Let me know when we can practice again,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

  “How about Friday night?”

  “Cool. See ya then, Ian.”

  “Yeah…see ya then.” He grabbed his guitar and opened the door.

  “Thanks for the fun evening?” One, it sounded like a question, and two, it sounded really fucking stupid.

  She look up and smiled again. “No, thank you.” Wink.

  He shut the door and stood there for a minute.

  What the hell just happened?

  He didn’t want her to be clingy, but shit! A kiss goodbye would have been nice or a thanks for the multiple orgasms, you stud.

  So this is what it felt like? If he’d had tits this would be considered the walk of shame. But he didn’t have tits. No! He had a dick, a big one, and balls full of sperm.

  Hell yeah I do!

  No shame in his game…he’d gotten laid, and well.

  He mentally high-fived himself and a smug smile replaced his look of bewilderment as he strutted back to his car.

  Austin was shaping up to be just what his penis needed. He hadn’t thought of what’s her name in weeks. Oh, wait he just did…but now he didn’t care as much. Speaking of Katrine, (the woman who ripped his heart out of his chest cavity, threw it on the ground, and then danced “La Cucaracha” on it) he needed to call her sister, Maddie, and make sure she hadn’t burned his house down. Or rented out the rooms to a circus troupe. After he made his rounds and put in a few hours, he called her.

  “Heeeellloooo!”

  “Hey, Mads…Were you being British just then?”

  “Mrs. Doubtfire. So how’s it going down there?”

  “Great. Work’s good. Meeting cool people.”

  “Any of those cool people packin’ ovaries?”

  He laughed. “As a matter of fact, yes. I have met some cool girls.”

  “Uh-huh. You so got laid.”

  “What? No!”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Ian. I can practically smell your spoodge from here.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “What evs, dude. Who is she?”

  “Maddie, I didn’t call to talk about my sex life.”

  “Fine, stick up the anus. Wait, was there anus involved?”

  He put the phone down and shook his head.

  “Mads, how is the house and everything?”

  “Fine. No shenanigans of any kind. Well, unless you count having a naked yoga class in your living room shenanigans.”

  “I do.”

  “Well then, there you have it. How’s my sweet girl, Ruby?”

  Oh fuck. He’d meant to tell her.

  “Ian? What happened to Ruby?”

  “Mads, she passed a few weeks ago.”

  “Nooooo! Not Ruby!”

  He teared up when he heard her soft sobs on the other line.

  “What? How?”

  “She stopped eating, so I took her to the vet. It was cancer.”

  “You had to put her down?” Sniffles and a loud blow of the nose.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I wish I would have known. I would have come down to be with you.”

  “Thanks, Mads. I appreciate that. I was okay. I have a surrogate Maddie down here and she stepped up.”

  “Oh, Trey, right?”

  “Yeah, she’s been a really good friend.”

  “Good friends make the best girlfriends.”

  “You offering?”

  “Ian, that’s just nasty. You’re devastatingly handsome, but no gracias.”

  “I second that—no, gracias,” he said with a laugh. Maddie was really hot, but he thought of her as a little sister.

  “So, you’re okay?”

  “I miss her like hell, but it gets better each day. When you get a pet you kinda have to go into it knowing they don’t live as long as you’d like them to. But it was worth it.”

  “Does anyone else know how sweet you are?” Maddie asked. He was taken aback by her soft tone. Very uncharacteristic.

  “Um, my mom does and I guess now you,” he teased.

  “Well, it’s true, and the right girl will see the sweet in you and beg for a cavity.”

  “Uh, thanks?”

  “Well, I gotta go. The de
livery guy just got to your house with the slip-n-slide I ordered.”

  He hoped she was kidding.

  “Okay. Make sure the end shoots you out into the street.”

  “Is there any other way? See ya soon, right?”

  “Yes, should be home at the end of next month. You coming down for the opening?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. Can I get drunk and pee in the reflection pool?”

  “You’d better.”

  “You’re the best. Peace!” Click.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Could you put some of this on my shoulders, please?” Trey asked, holding a bottle of sun block over her right shoulder.

  “You want me to rub lotion on your half naked body? Like you have to ask,” Ian answered, grabbing the bottle and squirting a blob of white cream on his hands.

  It was a hot Saturday afternoon and they were poolside at his apartment complex. Trey untied the string around her neck as he rubbed in small, methodical circles.

  “Don’t forget my neck, please. I don’t want to get freckles.”

  “Uh, kinda too late for that.”

  She slapped his leg. “Okay, more freckles…now rub!”

  He obeyed and put the small amount that remained on his hands over the requested spot. He pulled the strings from her fingers and tied them. The urge to lay a kiss on her shoulder was pushed aside with gritted teeth..

  He refused to put his dick in more than one basket. He had his hands full with Rory, who he’d been seeing almost every night since their first rehearsal that ended in Jack and hot sex. He was getting plenty of action, so he was curious why he would think those thoughts around Trey.

  Half naked girl reflex?

  Maybe because the last time he’d rubbed her skin he was pumping furiously inside her. He shook his head in an attempt to snap out of it. Must have been all the testosterone running through his system.

  “There you go.”

  He stood up and walked to the edge of the pool. Time to cool off. He sat on the lip and could feel the hot stones through his swim shorts, so the cool water on his feet was a refreshing contrast.

  “How are rehearsals going?” Trey called from her lawn chair.