Sweet Seduction Serenade (40 page)

"No problem, Eva. That's what friends are for," she replied brightly, getting to her feet, obviously prepared to organise things with Eric straight away.

"We're friends?" I asked, a little numbly.

Gen smiled down at me indulgently, then cuffed me on the shoulder with a playful punch. "Of course, silly! You're gonna be playing at my shop every Sunday afternoon because you love me and my chocolates. And I'm gonna be right there clapping because I love your songs and the way you sing. Then we'll have a catch up session over coffee, we'll play your single
Thunder Rolls
on the stereo and wonder why we weren't such staunch friends in school. Then we'll joke about all those stupid exploits my brother and your brother used to get up to at school, followed by dissecting all of their mistakes since. And because we're such good friends, we'll even compare Anscombe brothers, but I'm warning you, Nick can't even come close to Dominic on that front."

I blinked up at her, the edges of my lips twitching with the effort not to laugh. Gen always did have a run-away mouth on her. "You've obviously thought this all through," I said finally.

"Well," she admitted, shifting her weight onto one leg and placing her hand on her hip. "We're gonna be sisters, at least sisters-in-law, so of course we're gonna be best friends too."

I think my heart missed several beats and I simply stopped breathing.

"I...I don't know about that, Gen. Not about being friends, I'm sure that's going to come true. But you know, Nick and me, well, I don't know if that's exactly on the cards. He... I mean me... well." Darn it all to hell, I'd caught Gen's run-away mouth syndrome and now I was sounding like a tool.

Gen laughed, a delicate huff of a sound that made her look adorable. Several of the ASI guys flicked their glances towards her when she did it. It was just that kind of laugh, made you look, made you take in the beautiful woman standing there, so carefree and happy and stunningly gorgeous.

"If there's one thing I've noticed about these Anscombe boys, Eva, it's that they have no qualms about taking what they want and letting the whole world know it's theirs."

The smile on my face since she'd laughed vanished. Nick certainly fell into the category of taking what he wanted, but he definitely didn't fall into the category of letting everyone know. Sure he kissed me in front of them, he showed concern and even went as far as displaying a sense of possession in public; scaring off opposition with his growls and a rigid stance. But he's never said he loves me. And he certainly wouldn't let the whole world know I was his by asking me to marry him, if he's not even been able to say the words to me in private yet.

And was I really ready for marriage? I'm fiercely independent. A cowgirl who can stand on her own two feet. I've had to since I was a small child, I wasn't going to stop now even if - hypothetically speaking - Nick Anscombe asked me to marry him.

"We'll see," I said weakly, garnering a small frown from Gen in return.

"Oh, we'll see, all right," she said straightening her shoulders and offering a meaningful glance to back up her forceful words. "Mark my words, Evangeline Rowe," she added, sounding way older than her twenty-eight years, "Nick Anscombe is so in love with you, I'd bet Sweet Seduction he'll have a ring on your finger by the end of the month."

I snorted in disbelief and received a few amused looks from some of the ASI guys. Gen gets looks of appreciation, I get smirks. Great.

"I'll take that bet," I said, jokingly.

Gen reached forward and thrust out her hand, waiting for me to shake.

"Are you mad?" I asked, staring at her outstretched hand in wonder. "Sweet Seduction's your dream. Your baby. I'm not taking that away from you." I knew how important that place was to her, I wasn't blind.

She leaned forward and whispered so quietly I could barely hear her words, and the rest of the bustling room most certainly wouldn't have either. "Eva, he calls you his angel and means it. He can't keep his eyes off you for more than a few seconds and hasn't since the moment he walked in my shop and saw you performing
Thunder Rolls
. His first words when they found him after that bitch of an Aunt of yours shot him" - I cringed, but couldn't look away from her determined gaze - "was for you. And when he came out of surgery afterwards, again his first words were asking about
you
. He tried to leave the hospital when he was still drugged up on anaesthetic, his father and brother had to hold him down on the bed and make him promise to wait until he had some good news to tell you before he chased you to Nashville and dragged you back. Honey," she said standing upright again and letting out a big breath, "if that ain't love I don't know what is."

I stared at her, my mouth hanging open catching flies for a few seconds. He'd done all of that? I had no idea.

"Then why doesn't he tell me he loves me?" I asked in a tiny, very un-cowgirl-like voice.

Gen crossed her arms over her chest and held my gaze. "Have you told him that you love him?" she asked, casually.

My eyes widened. "I can't do that!"

"Why not?" she demanded. "Why must it be the man who takes the first step? We're equally capable of being the dominant in a relationship. You're a cowgirl," she pointed out, as though that said all that needed to be said. And in a way, it did.

"I can't," I semi-repeated.

"Why?" she whispered back.

"Because to say it and then lose him again would break me," I admitted, absolutely mortified I'd said that aloud.

"To lose him and have missed the chance to say it at all, would be worse," she said with a small smile, and then turned on her heel and walked out of the room, heading toward Eric in control no doubt.

I sat there stunned, eyes staring blankly at the floor several feet in front of me. The noise and hustle and bustle of the room, with the sounds of Gus and the guys jamming, felt distant and disconnected from the turmoil of emotions that buffeted me from every side. I felt like I was in the middle of a twister, any second now I'd be hurled out the side and it would darn well hurt.

I don't know how long I sat there alone with my turbulent thoughts. A minute, several, not even one. It felt like an eternity, mentally trying to make sense of the fear and surprise and disbelief that Gen was in fact right, inside my head. But eventually I was aware that Nick was sitting next to me, his hand engulfing my smaller one, his soft voice repeatedly whispering my name in my ear.

"Eva," he whispered, I'm not sure but maybe for the tenth time.

My head spun towards his and met amused ice-blue eyes with crinkled edges staring back.

"Where were you, angel?" he asked, reaching up and brushing my hair from my face with infinite care.

Now was my chance to say something, to grab the bull by the horns, follow Gen's advice.

I blinked, licked my lips, swallowed past an extremely dry throat and then said, "I need to see Gabe."

Oh, darn it all to hell.

"Ok, babe. I'll check with Eric, but we can probably head there right now."

I just nodded back, feeling a plethora of emotions that were threatening to drown.

"Angel," he said softly, maybe seeing something of those emotions on my face. I was never very good at hiding how I felt and Nick was always so good at reading me. "It'll be all right," he cajoled softly, leaning forward and resting his forehead against mine. "We'll get your family sorted and life will go on," he added, his hot, minty fresh breath washing over my face.

I nodded again, this time my forehead shifting against him with the move. Because voicing my arguments would get me nowhere.

"I'll be back in a tick," he whispered, reached up and cupped my chin, then brought his lips briefly to mine. Too briefly. My eyes closed and I sighed, receiving a decidedly smug chuckle in return. Then he was gone.

I was waylaid by Gus and the guys then. Hugs, kisses, cheerful words meant to uplift. I loved having them there, they were as close to a family as I now had, but my mind was a jumbled mess of discordant thoughts. My attention only halfway on their jokes and the conversation. Luckily Nick returned within minutes and announced we were heading straight over to Mt Eden to see Gabe.

He organised Adam, Koki and Brook again to follow us and after quick farewells to those who had come to offer their support, we were out the door and heading down to his big black Porsche. I wasn't looking forward to what lay ahead. Gabe and I may not have been close, but he was still my brother and seeing him hurt was not going to be easy or nice. Plus, I hadn't seen him in eight years. What a reunion. In a prison visitor's lounge, behind a barbed wire fence.

Another example of my upbringing. Had I not had my guitar and my Country music whilst growing up, could I have ended up like him?

Nick was focused on the drive over, a slight tenseness to his physique that hadn't been there back at the ASI offices. Once again I couldn't see Adam's black SUV, or for that fact, Brook and Koki either. I wasn't sure what they drove, but the garage had only consisted of black SUVs, Katie's red BMW convertible, a green vintage MG which I assumed was Gen's and a couple of black motorcycles. They could have been anywhere, black was the colour of choice for Auckland drivers these days, it seemed.

The thick Victorian brick walls, topped with barbed wire came into view as we rounded the corner on Normanby Road. My eyes automatically going to the watchtowers on either end of the moss covered wall, the only indication the prison had been brought into the twentieth century. Without them, you'd be mistaken thinking you'd gone back in time to the 1800's when Mt Eden Prison dominated the horizon and stood sentinel against crime in fledgling Auckland town.

I felt a restriction start in my chest at the dreary sight of it, knowing things would get ten times worse once we went inside.

You always feel a little guilty when you enter a prison complex - not that I've entered any before - but the feeling as we were searched, questioned, photographed and signed in, was one of guilt. And shame. Nick seemed familiar with the process, which was more than I could say for me, but I couldn't help feeling he was only coming here
because
of me. Because of
my
brother. He wouldn't be subjecting himself to this bleak environment and intense perusal by distrustful prison guards if it wasn't for me.

I might have still loved my brother in some small way, but I resolved to get this over and done with quickly and then get Nick out of here fast.

We waited in the main visitor's lounge, assigned to table four over by the window that looked out on Lauder Road. I took a seat in the curved pale wooden chair, wondering how to avoid the bar that connected it to the low round matching table with the huge stencilled number 4. Nick took one of the other two available and attached seats, leaving one free and a strange stool type thing on the end, which really seemed to serve no purpose at all that I could see.

At least this was the newer part of the prison complex, hidden inside the old mouldy brick walls. My only hope was Gabe was in one of the new cells, thinking the original would be frighteningly cold and impersonal.

We didn't have to wait long. Several prisoners were brought out, one after the other, and escorted to their respective tables and waiting guests. One look from Gabe and I knew he knew why I was there. The guards hadn't warned him, and for the briefest moment I saw pain flicker over that tough façade, but I guess he's learned to hide his emotions well here, because a mask of indifference immediately followed.

I watched as my big brother wended his way through the strategically placed and no doubt immovable clusters of tables and chairs, his eyes on me the entire way, his gait sure and defiant, the blue of his eyes lost to the sea of orange that he wore. And I wondered why it had to be this way. Why I had to run away to Nashville to escape my past and why Gabriel had to use drugs to do the same.

I might have come a long way in accepting my parents for who they were, but I sure as darn hell hadn't entirely forgiven them either.

Nick's hand encasing mine broke the train of that thought, the warmth of his palm against mine soothing, the squeeze of his fingers entwined in mine reassuring. I flicked him a small smile and stood to meet my brother.

"Hey, Gabe," I said steadily, with a chin lift. I couldn't bring myself to hug him, I'm not sure why. Maybe because he'd never offered one to me when I was growing up and desperately needed them.

"Evangeline," he said in a deep, gruff voice, making you think he'd smoked a pack a day for the past twenty years. And he probably had.

For a moment I thought he wasn't going to sit down, but just stand there and stare at us belligerently. But finally, he shuffled his big bulk into the spare curved seat, the metal supporting it groaning slightly. His muscles bulged under the rolled up sleeves of his jumpsuit, various tattoos peaking out from beneath as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the small attached table. Those movies that had you believing there was gym equipment available in prisons must have been right, because there was no way Gabe'd keep that physique sitting on his butt,

"Who's the dude?" Gabe asked, flicking his head toward Nick, but not taking his eyes off me. If I didn't know better, from the way they kept focused on me so intently, running all over my face and body again and again, I'd think he was starved for a sight of me. Or at least someone related to him.