Chapter 12

Richie felt his heart thumping in his chest as he held Annie and revolved slowly in place on the dance floor.  The warmth of her cheek against his chest felt good.  The smell of her hair was Heaven.  And with every sway of her hips as they shuffled together in a circle Annie's pelvis rocked firmly against his crotch.

It was fantastic and maddening all at the same time.

Richie pulled in and blew out a deep breath.  Jesus Christ, pull it together!  They'd only been in the place for ten minutes and already he felt out of control.  First Annie's asshole ex-boyfriend had awakened his Italian blood and he'd gone all alpha-male, and now he couldn't control his dick.

So much for playing it cool.

Annie smiled as she felt Richie's sigh of frustration.  She found it sweet that he had gotten so worked up by Rex's harmless little challenge.  He was also worked up in other ways, judging from what she felt rubbing against her abdomen as they danced.

She giggled softly to herself.  Poor guy.  Eddie was right:  Richie really didn't know what to do with himself around her.  Annie felt a little guilty for making Richie uncomfortable, but she was just being herself.  She couldn't help it if Richie didn't know how to handle that.

While she was definitely attracted to Richie, Annie didn't mean to tease him.  But his arms sure did feel good wrapped around her as they moved in time to the music.

That she had found herself in Richie's embrace so early in the evening was a pleasant surprise; she certainly had no romantic or sexual motive in her choice of the night's activities.  She merely thought Richie might enjoy hearing some good music; it might bring him out of his shell a little, encourage him to talk about whatever was bothering him.

But now that they were slow-dancing, their bodies in full contact, his discomfort was palpable.  Annie was certain it wasn't because of her closeness; though he was obviously attracted to her Richie had acted the perfect gentleman since their chance meeting yesterday.  The easy banter they had shared today was evidence that he had come to trust and genuinely like her.  But Richie still seemed uneasy, almost defensive.  Annie frowned slightly against his chest as she wondered why.

The last notes of the song filled the air, quickly overcome by clapping and cheers from the juke joint patrons.  Her arms remaining around Richie's neck, Annie raised her cheek from his chest and smiled up at him.  She almost laughed aloud at his slightly-dazed expression.

"Umm..." Richie moved his hands to rest lightly on either side of Annie's trim waist.  "Let me go get those beers for us."

Annie chortled and slid her arms from around Richie's neck, then stepped back.  "Okay.  Thanks for the dance, Richie."

Richie hesitated for a moment, looking quizzically at Annie as if he hadn't heard her correctly.  Then he smiled shyly.  "My pleasure."  He turned away and began to push his way through the crowd toward the bar.

Annie stood in their spot on the dance floor and watched him go.  Her lips pursed slightly as she wondered what Richie was trying to hide.  It wasn't his physical attraction; the way he had held her as they danced made that clear.  It was something else.  Something he didn't want her to see in his expression or hear in his voice.

Maybe a couple rounds of beer and a few shots of moonshine were in order.  That would surely loosen him up.

*****

"Thanks, Man."  Richie pulled a couple crumpled bills from his jeans pocket and laid them on the bar before picking up the two bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon.  He took a quick swig from one, groaning softly as the cold beverage soothed his dry throat.  Then he turned and surveyed the crowd, looking for Annie.

She wasn't hard to spot, her blonde hair shining in the dim red-and-blue glow from the stage lights and neon beer signs.  Annie had moved from the dance floor to the far side of the room, where she had taken over a small table against the wall.  Her hand rested on the back of an empty chair beside hers as she sat watching the band and bobbing her head in time with the soulful music.

Richie breathed a sigh of relief and began to move toward Annie.  He was ready to sit down and blend into the crowd, just hide away and observe.  If that was possible, anyway.

Since he had set foot in the door of Ruby Mae's Richie had felt suspicious eyes upon him, watching his every move.  And they weren't just Rex's.  Though nobody had challenged or even hardly spoken to him, Richie was keenly aware that everyone in the joint knew he was an outsider.

With a string of mumbled "excuse me"s Richie pushed his way through the throng of bodies until he finally reached Annie.  She slid over to the vacant chair so he could sit without having to climb over her or the table.

"Sorry it took me so long."  Richie handed Annie the full beer bottle and leaned toward her so his mouth was near her ear.  "It's gettin' kinda crowded in here."  He almost had to shout to be heard over the band, which was now burning through a raucous version of Chuck Berry's "Maybelline."

Annie nodded before taking a sip of her beer and making her loud reply.  "Thanks.  And yeah, it's gettin' about that time.  The second shift at the paper mill lets off at ten, so a lot of folks come straight in here from work."

Richie nodded and leaned back against his chair, taking another pull from his bottle.  His eyes moved to the stage, automatically finding the gold guitar being adeptly handled by the young black man.  Richie watched him quietly, trying to ignore the dull ache in his heart as he felt the phantom of every note in his fingertips.  He knew this song; it was one of the first he had ever learned.

He would miss playing it.

Annie watched Richie's expression as he regarded the band.  She saw a shadow of a wince tighten his smooth cheeks, and his lips pressed together as he swallowed.  Yet despite his glum countenance Annie could feel Richie's foot tapping under the table, to the beat of the music.  Her gaze dropped to his hand and she saw his long fingers drumming gently against his thigh along with the guitar melody.

Suddenly she felt guilty, ashamed of dragging Richie into this uncomfortable situation.  The sad resignation in his deep brown eyes made her heart ache.  Why the hell couldn't she just mind her own business?  Why did she have to play Mother fucking Teresa and try to solve everybody else's problems?  Hell, she had plenty of her own to deal with.

With a little snort of frustration Annie shook her head at herself, her golden mane tossing in the shadowy haze.  Maybe this had been a mistake, bringing Richie to Ruby Mae's.  Maybe her sanctuary was his purgatory.

"Richie..." Annie placed her hand over his on his thigh and leaned forward to speak just as the song ended.  Richie pulled his hand from under hers and raised it to applaud.   He clapped loudly and let out a short, shrill whistle as the other patrons showed their appreciation for the band with loud whoops and applause.

Surprised, Annie stared at Richie, her intended words frozen in her throat.  Richie regarded her for a moment, then gave a little shrug and smiled.  "They're good.  That guy nailed the rhythm and the solo."  He dropped his eyes, the little smile remaining on his lips.  "I know that song backwards and forwards.  It ain't easy."

"Oh."  Annie couldn't think of another response.  She stared at Richie for a moment, caught off-guard by his reaction.  The enthusiasm behind his response was so shockingly contradictory to his subdued body language--she didn't know quite how to read him.

"What did you want?"

"Huh?"  Richie's question didn't register as Annie tried to decipher what Richie was feeling.  Now that the band was taking a breather she could easily hear his voice over the din of their fellow patrons.

"You said my name, like you were gonna tell me something.  Sorry I cut you off."  Richie gazed calmly at Annie.  And I wish I'd just sat there and let you hold my hand....

"Oh!  Um, yeah.  I was just gonna say that... um... if you don't want to stay we don't have to."  Annie recovered enough to give Richie an apologetic little smile.  "You just looked kinda uncomfortable, like you don't really wanna be here."

Richie paused for a moment before answering.  The truth of the matter was he could feel his blood rushing and his adrenaline kicking in, just like he did every time he heard the twang of a guitar string or the clink of a piano key.  Just like every time before, ever since he could remember, the music moved him.  He could feel it in his soul.  He really did want to be here, especially with Annie.

It was just bittersweet tonight, knowing that he would no longer be the one to climb up on a stage and make the music that would move others.

Richie's deep brown eyes met Annie's sparkling baby-blues.  He shrugged.  "Naw, let's stay.  You said you like this place; I like it too.  This band is pretty damned good."  He smiled gently.  "Besides, where the Hell else are we gonna go on a Saturday night out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Annie chuckled and tipped her beer bottle toward Richie's.  "Well, there are a few other options, but none much more appealin'."  She grinned when Richie clinked the neck of his bottle against hers.

"Well then, let's just hang here for awhile.  Listen to these cats and have a few more rounds.  I could stand to get drunk tonight."  Richie snorted to himself at the truth in his words, then his smile softened as he gazed at Annie.  "And the 'most appealing option' is definitely right here."

Annie felt herself blush at his compliment, the darkness hiding her cheeks' rosy flush.  "Can't say I disagree," she replied gently.  Her gaze held his for a moment, then she turned toward the stage as the drummer counted in the next song.

Annie smiled as she felt Richie's arm slip along the back of her chair, his hand brushing against her shoulder.  She settled back and took a pull at her beer, letting the music wash over her.

Unconsciously Annie began to bob her head and tap her foot in time to the heavy beat.  The melody was slow and sultry, a bluesy bump-and grind that made her long to slide her arms around Richie's neck and roll her hips against his as he held her close.

As if he was reading her mind, Annie felt Richie shift in his chair, leaning closer to her and letting his arm rest against her shoulders.  With a sideways glance she saw that he too was nodding along to the rhythm.  Her pulse quickened as she thought again about Richie holding her tight, guiding her in a slow dance.

She hoped he'd want to dance with her again tonight.

Through the song and the one that followed Annie and Richie sat quietly side by side, letting themselves get lost in their private thoughts and in the music.  When they emptied their beer bottles Richie retrieved another round from the bar, then settled back into his seat beside Annie's.  But this time he didn't drape his arm across the back of her chair, instead letting his hand rest on his thigh.

Out of the corner of her eye Annie watched as Richie's long fingers flexed against his leg with every note that sang from the guitar.  Turning her head a bit to get a better view of his face, Annie felt herself smile.

Richie's eyes were closed, his long lashes forming a pair of dark curved fringes atop his smooth cheekbones.  Red and blue light glinted off his  hair as his head bobbed slowly to the beat.  His full lips tightened and relaxed with his expressions, reflecting the emotion of the bluesy notes and phrases that sang through the air.

Annie's heart warmed.  Richie wasn't just hearing the music, he was feeling it.  Like she did.  Like she somehow knew he would when she brought him here.

She watched him quietly for the remainder of the song, until his eyes drifted open.  His gaze meeting hers, Richie blinked at Annie for a minute then gave her a sheepish little smile.  "Oh. Umm... sorry."

"For what? You were enjoyin' the music."  Annie couldn't help but grin at Richie.

Richie nodded slowly then took a long pull at his beer, emptying it.  He set the bottle on the table and regarded it for a moment before looking back to Annie.  "You ready for another one?"

"Yeah, sure.  But let me get this round."  Annie started to rise from her seat, reaching for Richie's empty bottle.

"No!" Richie's hand closed around Annie's, stopping its movement.  "Uh... I mean, let me buy.  After all you've done for me this weekend the least I can do is buy the beer tonight."

Richie grinned sheepishly as he realized he was holding Annabelle's hand, then gently lowered it to rest on the table.  His fingers trailed over hers as he pulled his hand away to reach for her beer bottle.  Grabbing it and his own empty by the neck, he stood.

"Besides, I gotta go take a... uh... use the Men's Room."

Annie chuckled at Richie's self-censorship.  "Alright.  I'll let you be the gentleman and pick up the tab."  She gave him a saucy grin.  "As for the Men's Room... Well, there ain't one, exactly."

"What?"

Annie laughed at Richie's obvious confusion.  "There's a bathroom in the back, through there."  Annie nodded toward the door in the corner that Richie had noticed earlier.  "But usually the guys don't use it.  Just the ladies."  She wrinkled her nose playfully.  "And we only use it if we have to.  It's pretty gross."

Richie grinned at her assessment of the facilities.  "So where do the guys go?"  He was pretty sure he knew the answer to his question.

"Outside.  Around back there's an old outhouse."

"You gotta be shittin' me!"  Richie didn't even notice his pun as his eyes widened. "An outhouse?"

Annie tossed her head back as she laughed heartily at Richie's astonishment.  "Yes, City Boy, an outhouse.  Some folks still have those down here."  She giggled for another minute as Richie continued to stare at her.  "Not many people use it though.  Never know what might be hidin' in there in the dark.  All kinds of creepy slithery things in the South, especially at night."  Annie grinned broadly as she teased Richie more, enjoying his reaction.  "But I guess if you're drunk enough and you gotta go, you don't care."

"Great."  Richie grimaced, clearly discounting the outhouse as an option.

Annie giggled again as she watched his nose wrinkle with his wince.  She continued with another little grin. "But if all you gotta do is take a leak, I think you can find a place around the side of the building."

Richie felt himself blush at Annie's use of the indelicate phrase he had avoided.  "Yeah, thanks.  That's probably gonna have to work."  With a little shake of his head and another sheepish smile Richie stepped away from the table.  "Okay, I'll come back with beers in a few."

"If you're not back in ten minutes I'll come lookin' for you," Annie teased.  She chortled as Richie turned to head for the bar.  "Oh!  And Richie?"

He paused and looked back at her.  "Yeah?"

"Don't go way around back... you might stumble upon some... private business."

"Private business? What...?" Richie's question ended abruptly as he realized what she meant.  "Oh.  'Kay.  Thanks."  He heard Annie's musical giggle as again he turned to head for the front door.

Richie shook his head as he weaved between the closely-packed tables and chairs.  All he wanted to do was sneak outside, drain his snake, grab a few more cold beers,and get back to hide in the corner with Annie.  He certainly didn't need to stumble onto some guy getting his dick sucked or God knows what else.

Dropping the empty bottles on an unoccupied table as he passed, Richie quickly slipped out the front door and around the side of the building.  Glancing warily around him, he strode quickly along the wall until he was far enough from the porch not to be seen from the parking lot.  He wasn't exactly modest, but he was relieved to find he was alone in the shadows.

"Jesus," he mumbled as he slid down his zipper and stepped up to the wall.   With a groan of relief he emptied his bladder, being careful not to piss on his shoes in the dark.  Task complete, Richie quickly turned and started for the entrance.

He was just about to round the corner of the front porch when a stocky body blocked his path.

Instinctively Richie's hands curled into fists as he halted.  He stood silent and tensed, waiting for the man to move or to speak.  He stared back into the ice-blue eyes, his own gaze narrowing as his expression hardened.

Rex stared back at Richie for a long moment.  Finally he spoke, his voice cold but even.  "Enjoyin' yourself?"

The question caught Richie off-guard.  He had expected something more, a challenge or a warning from an over-protective ex-boyfriend.  He nodded slowly.  "Yeah."

Rex calmly looked Richie up and down, then smirked.  "Your fly's open."  With a deep chuckle he stepped around Richie and strolled toward the back of the building, his shoulder bumping Richie's as he passed.

Richie's shoulders slumped as he exhaled.  He had no idea what the fuck that little exchange had been about; whether the encounter with Rex was accidental or on-purpose.  He was just glad it hadn't escalated.

His cheeks coloring slightly with embarrassment at being caught with his fly down, Richie yanked up the zipper on his jeans and strode for the entrance.

When he walked back into the big room Richie noticed it was quieter, filled with the buzz of conversation and raucous laughter.  A quick glance at the stage revealed that the band was on break; the instruments sat alone on the raised platform under the red and blue lights.  Their players had strayed from the stage for a drink, a smoke, or indulgence in other vices.

Richie had to wait a little longer to retrieve another pair of beers from the bar, since most of the crowd was taking advantage of the band's break to refill their glasses.  When he finally obtained the beverages and made his way back to the table, Richie found Annie wasn't alone.  Sitting in Richie's chair, talking and laughing with Annie, was a handsome young black man.

Richie hesitated for a moment before reaching over to set Annie's beer in front of her.  His seat taken, he stood beside the little table.

"Oh, Hey!  Thanks, Richie."  Annie took a sip of her beer then smiled up at him.  "I want you to met a friend of mine.  Richie, this is Sammy.  Sammy, Richie."  Annie gestured between the two men as she said their names by way of introduction.

"Hey.  Nice to meetcha."  Sammy grinned and stuck out his hand over the table.  "I've heard a lot about you."

"Hey, Man.  Seems like everybody's heard a lot about me."  Richie accepted Sammy's proffered hand, leaning forward for the handshake.  As he looked Sammy in the face he recognized the young man as the guitar player from the house band.  "Oh--Hey!"

Annie smiled at Richie's obvious surprise.  "Richie, Sammy is Otis' nephew.  He and I have known each other since we were knee-high to a grasshopper.  We went to school together."

"Nice to meet ya, Man,"  Richie nodded, giving Sammy's hand another shake before releasing it.  "You sound good."  Richie tipped his head toward the stage, indicating Sammy's earlier guitar performance.

"Thanks."  Sammy grinned and looked at Annie.  "Annabelle here tells me you're a player.  Where?"

Richie shrugged and took a drink from his bottle.  "I used to play, in Jersey."  He avoided Annie's eyes as the half-lie slipped from his lips.

Annie noticed.  "And..."  She reached out to give Richie's hand a little squeeze.  "Richie was over in Memphis doing some sessions in the record studio.  And playing in some nightclubs.  Right, Richie?"

Richie nodded looked at the floor, gently tugging his hand from Annie's.  "Yeah.  But that was just for a few weeks."  He silently cursed.  He knew Annie meant well, but he really didn't want to have to tell some stranger about how his career as a guitarist was over before it had taken off.

"That's cool, Man,"  Sammy replied.  "What do you play?"

Richie shrugged.  "Used to have a Gibson, kinda like yours.  Sold it before I came down here though.  I played an Ibanez for awhile too.  Now I just have a '76 Martin Dreadnought."  His voice was flat, his heart squeezing as he remembered pawning his prized electric guitar for gas and food money.  His eyes flicked to Annie and he saw her gazing up at him, her blue eyes sparkling.  He quickly looked away.

"Nice."  Sammy nodded.  "You with a band?"

"Nah.   Used to be, but not anymore.  I'm done with that now."  Avoiding Annie's eyes, Richie looked around. He spied an unoccupied chair sitting near the stage and stepped over to grab it, hauling it back to the table.  Wedging it into the small space between the table and the wall, Richie lowered himself onto the seat.

"Richie was telling me last night that he used to play gigs down on the beach in New Jersey.  Lots of 'em."  Annie turned her smile to Richie.  She sounded almost proud.  "He writes his own songs, too.  And sings."

Richie groaned inwardly as he shoved his knees under the table in the tight spot.  He knew Annie was trying to be friendly and that she was excited about him being a musician.  But he really didn't want to get into the whole long, sad story with this guy he had just met, friend of Annie's or not.

As he tried to get comfortable Richie felt his leg rub against Annie's under the little table.  Then he felt her hand on his knee, patting gently.  Another stab of guilt knifed through his gut as Richie realized Annie could read his discomfort.

Unable to stop himself, he turned his head to look at her.  He saw in Annie's kind blue eyes that she could see right through him.  And in her own way she was trying to help.

As he gazed at Annie Richie heard Sammy's voice.  "Really, Man?  That's pretty cool."  Richie swallowed hard, then mustered a smile as he turned to look at Sammy.

"Umm... thanks.  It's been awhile since I've written anything, though.  Or played, for that matter."  Richie's pulse kicked up as he felt Annie give his knee a gentle, comforting squeeze.

Richie turned back to Sammy, his gut clenching as he read the young man's expression.  He knew what was coming before the words were out of Sammy's mouth.

"Hey Man, why don't you come up and jam with us tonight?"

Despite himself Richie felt his heart race and his fingertips tingle.  It was as if his body physically craved the feel of the leather strap wrapping his shoulder, of the polished wood vibrating against his pelvis, of the strings buzzing under his fingertips.  He shot an involuntary glance toward the stage where Sammy's gold Gibson leaned against an amp.

He swallowed hard, then Richie felt Annie's hand slip into his.  Silently he turned to see her pretty blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Richie, will you?  Play with the band?  Please?"  Annie's voice was soft and hopeful.  "For me?"