Her eyes widened slightly but so did her smile. She was pleased but said, “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. Get in.” He opened the door and she sat down into the luxurious creamy leather.
After folding himself into the driver’s seat, he started the engine. The car roared to life. He pulled his glasses back into place. “Lead the way, mi’lady.”
She gave him the simple directions then sat back. “This is a Bugatti Veyron, isn’t it?”
“Yes. You know your cars,” he said, watching the road.
“Thad always wanted one of these.”
He nodded, not commenting.
“You must be an incredible teacher, Mr Westlake. I wasn’t aware they made the kind of money it takes to own one of these.”
“They don’t,” he answered in a clipped tone, as the car accelerated.
He seemed cool today. He never wanted to talk about himself or his past but today, he seemed even more closed. She didn’t like that. It made her think he had something to hide. Something he didn’t want her to know. Maybe something that might change the way things were going between them.
“Do you steal cars on the side, Mr Westlake?”
“Nope. Bought and paid for.”
“By you?”
“Yep.”
“Can you park this thing in the school parking lot without round the clock security?”
“I don’t drive this baby to school. I only take her out on special occasions. Or when I want to go fast.”
“What do you drive to school?”
“The Porsche.”
“Ahh, of course. What was it you said you did for a living before you had this epiphany to become an overworked, underpaid and underappreciated teacher?”
“I didn’t.”
They pulled into the parking lot of the old stone church. He maneuvered expertly into a small space with only one hand on the steering wheel. Exiting, he came around to the passenger’s side then opened the door for her. He offered her his hand and helped her from the low seat.
“Thank you,” she said, rising, her heels bringing the top of her head up to his chin. “You must have made very good money as a gypsy,” she said, looking up at him.
“Very,” he answered, looking down at her, his dark glasses concealing his mood. He stood in front of her, making it impossible for her to get around him, almost pinning her between the car and his body. She could feel the heat from him. Deeply, she inhaled the clean refreshing scent of soap and the uniquely spicy scent of Jason.
The notch in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Your pulse is very rapid and erratic today, Lainey. What’s the matter?”
“Perhaps the Bugatti is exciting, Mr Westlake.”
“Funny…” He placed his thumb over the rapid beat at the base of her neck, his fingers lightly brushing across her skin causing goose bumps to race down her arm. “You didn’t even know about the Bugatti yesterday and it was still doing this rat-a-tat thing. And you know what else? The minute I touched you, it triple timed.”
She felt at a disadvantage not being able to see his eyes. He seemed not quite angry, but adversarial. Like he was intent on proving his point that she wanted him too and he was going to overwhelm her until she gave in to it.
“Tell me, is this a special occasion or do you just want to go fast?” she asked, referring to his earlier comment about the car.
“I’d have to say it’s because I wanna go fast but the car is the only thing that’s going to get me there.” He scowled.
She stepped around him. So he was pissy because she wouldn’t put out. On one hand it ticked her off. On the other hand it gave her a little thrill that he was going through the same agony that she was. “I hope you’ll be very happy together. Thanks for the ride.” She strode toward the church as she belatedly noticed how many of the worshippers had stopped to gawk. She tried to ignore the stares. They weren’t really looking at her anyway. It was the Bugatti they were interested in, and some healthy speculation about the football star’s downtrodden ex-wife showing up to church with the sexiest man alive, driving
that
.
The car door slammed, then the obnoxious ‘dut-dut’ followed as he set the alarm. “Hey.” He caught up to her in a few long strides.
“You can go. You don’t have to come in. I’ll see you later. It was a nice try.” She tried to walk faster but he caught her arm on the steps.
“Stop.”
“No. You stop. I didn’t ask you to bring me here and I certainly didn’t ask you to accompany me in. And I especially don’t want you to be here if you don’t want to be. That’s not what this is about. Not to me. This makes me feel better. And I’m not feeling it right now with you pressuring me. You said I could set the pace and now you’re clearly angry with me. I don’t need it. Go home, Mr Westlake, and grade some papers, or better yet call your waitress. Perhaps she is faster than me
and
your Bugatti.”
His nostrils flared as he took another deep breath. “I haven’t been in a church in a very long time. I’m not sure the walls will remain standing if I come inside.”
She couldn’t stand not to see his eyes anymore. Not being able to see them made her think all kinds of crazy things, especially when he was being so cryptic about his past. She pulled the shades from his eyes and pushed one of the arms into his shirt, then folded them down.
Searching his dark eyes, she noted that he seemed guarded.
“What are you afraid of? Worse men than you walk over that threshold every day and still it stands. Men that don’t even deserve or want forgiveness. If you’re just here to try to ingratiate yourself with me, don’t. Go in there for yourself. Not for me.”
Lainey walked into the church by herself. A greeter handed her a calendar showing the order of service and she made her way down the aisle and sat by herself in her usual spot. Sometimes Jilly accompanied her but sometimes she didn’t want to, and Lainey didn’t force her to, like her father had done to her when she was a child. It really was different when you came for yourself and not for somebody else.
Jason paced outside the doors for a moment. One of the ushers smiled and nodded at him, as if he knew what he was going through. The doors closed as the organ music began. Jason listened to the first hymn and the voices raised in unison.
“Well, God, I’m here. And I should probably thank you for lookin’ out for me all those years when I was out there doing all the wrong things. I really like this girl and I’m not sayin’ I’m gonna be here every Sunday, and I’m not even sure that I’m here for the right reasons. She’s probably right on that score. I showed up to make points with her. I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. You know why I’m here. So I’m just bein’ straight up with you, I’m goin’ in for the girl and you’ll just have to forgive me… Again.”
Reefing open the door, he skimmed over the heads of the rest of the congregation hunting for the woman in question. About halfway down the aisle to the far right with the hymn book in her hand, she stood alone, singing with the rest. He walked to her side. She shuffled over to make room for him and passed the left side of the song book to him. Ignoring the words, he tried to follow the music.
He hadn’t sung a note in ages. It was like the minute he’d decided to go back to school he’d forgotten all about music. As if he’d turned off his creativeness. He hadn’t even written a melody or jotted down lyrics. In the past, he’d kept a pad of paper and a pen by his bedside always, even when they were on the tour bus, just in case something came to him in his sleep. He used to dream lyrics and sometimes even the first few chords of a new song. A few times he’d woken up and after having written it down, he’d get his guitar and play it out and a whole chorus, sometimes even a whole song, had come to him. Some of their best stuff had come just like that. From his head to Number One in the charts. He’d even written a couple that he’d never shown anyone else. Stuff that wasn’t in their genre, but he’d always thought someday he’d publish them for someone else to record. He’d never really thought about it until now, with the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows, that maybe it had all been a gift. His talent, the way that the melodies and harmonies and lyrics had just poured from him.
As the music ended they sat and there was a reading, some announcements and another hymn. They stood and again she handed him the book. He listened to her for a moment. She had a nice voice. He liked it. He let it wash over him. She’d sound good with him, he thought. He didn’t even realize that he’d started to hum until she looked up at him and gave him a smile. Again, he read the music instead of reading along with the words. He could feel the organ vibrating through his chest, making him feel things that he hadn’t in a long time.
They sat again and listened to the service. The choir rose and began to sing. Jason let the music in and he realized he had missed it. How could he have let himself turn from it so completely? It had always been so much a part of him. He totally missed the sermon thinking about everything. His mind was a whirl. Where was his guitar even? Had he even brought it from his parents’ house? It had to be at home. He’d given up most of his guitars. Actually just left them on the bus and walked away from them. He’d kept the one he’d played MSG with and the acoustic that he’d had for as long as he could remember. All beat to hell as it was, it was probably his most prized possession. It meant more to him than the Bugatti—all the cars, the house, the money. It reminded him of simpler times.
Lainey reached over and twined her fingers into his. “Are you all right?” she whispered leaning in so that he could hear her.
He squeezed her hand and pulled it onto his thigh. He nodded, before regarding their entwined hands. She’d reached out to him. That was something.
The offering plate came around and Lainey put five bucks on the plate then passed it to Jason, probably expecting that he’d just pass it along. But he tossed a twenty in it.
Jason reluctantly let go of her hand as they stood to sing the last hymn. It was a song that was familiar to him, he didn’t even know from where. He finally allowed himself to read the lyrics and he let the words form on his lips. He took a deep breath and he sang the first words he’d sung in over six years. Softly at first, louder as his confidence in himself and the words grew.
Lainey looked up at him with surprise. She stopped singing and her mouth dropped open. The deep rich timbre of his voice went straight through her. The congregation finished the hymn, the minister boomed his benediction, and Lainey didn’t remember a thing from the moment Jason had started to harmonize.
Jason took hold of Lainey’s hand again as they filed out slowly, following the crowd. The minister stood at the door greeting the parishioners by name.
“Lainey. It’s good to see you again.”
“And you, Reverend.”
“You are becoming a regular. Soon I will begin to badger you to become a member. And I see you’ve brought a friend this time.”
Jason presented his hand. “Jase Westlake, good to meet you, Reverend. I enjoyed the sermon.”
The minister wrapped both hands around Jason’s and shook his hand with enthusiasm. “Jase. It’s good to meet you. Westlake? Westlake. We had some Westlakes as members at one time. What were their given names? Oh, well, anyway, I hope we’ll see you again.”
Jason gave him a non-committal nod, wrapping his arm around Lainey’s back, coaxing her out.
“Please feel welcome to join us for coffee and fellowship.”
The pressure on her back increased, propelling her forward.
As they walked out into the sunshine, Jason pulled his sunglasses from his shirt and slid them into place. Taking Lainey’s hand again, he steered her toward the car, which now had a crowd of teenage boys around it.
Lainey bit her lip wondering how he might handle this—all those kids being around the one-point-seven million dollar car. The vehicle cost more than Lainey and Thad’s home.
“I’m gonna own one of these someday,” one of the kids boasted.
Jason pulled the key from his pocket and unarmed the alarm, making the boys jump as if they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“Step back, boys, and let the lovely lady through.” He opened the door for her and she stepped in. He closed it and walked around to his own side. The boys fired questions at him. He answered every one of them and allowed them a look inside when he opened up the driver’s side
.
He was wonderful with them. Another reason that he must make a good teacher.
“’Kay, guys, if you’ll excuse us, we need to go. But I’m sure we’ll be back and if it’s all right with your parents, maybe we can go for a ride.”
“Naw way!” “Awesome!” “How ‘bout next week?” “I’m gonna go ask my ma now!” “Me first.”
Jason got in and started the car. He revved the engine a few times and watched the young faces light up, impressed with the sound.
He pulled out of the parking spot and casually drove out.
“I’d peel outta here if we weren’t at church.”
“I’m sure that would dissuade a couple of moms from allowing their sons a ride with you.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but they woulda thought that was so freakin’ cool.”
She laughed. “Yeah, they would.”
Jason hit a button and the car filled with music. He sang along to Springsteen’s
Born to Run
. That was more his thing. Now that he’d used his voice again, he wanted to keep using it.