Page 73 of Rock and a Hard Place

“See what I mean?” Peter leaned into Libby and rested his head on her shoulder. “I get no privacy. Nothing is sacred.”

“I don’t mind.” She turned and inhaled. Peter smelled like their warm, sleepy bodies and her faded perfume. Sleeping in Peter’s arms was pure heaven, but now, as his mother pretended not to watch them, Libby sat up straighter and smoothed her rumpled clothes.

“Bring it right in.” His mother held the door of the hotel suite open.

Two waiters wheeled in carts filled with food. As they set up a breakfast buffet on the table, the mouth-watering aroma of bacon, pancakes, and mini quiches filled her nose. On the road trip to Denver she and DarLynn only ate fast food, Cheetos, and red licorice.

“Lordy, look at all that food. Are we having a party?” DarLynn wandered into the living area wrapped in a fluffy robe embroidered with the hotel logo.

“Good morning, DarLynn, did you sleep well?” Peter’s mom asked, sounding chipper.

“The bed sure was comfy, but I barely slept trying to stay awake and keep an eye on these two. Let’s just say I’m not looking forward to all the late nights chaperoning my boys.”

Libby’s face warmed. “Oh my God,” she said under her breath to Peter. Chaperoned? How humiliating. “You didn’t need to stay up. We were just fine. Plus, Peter’s eighteen. We’re both adults now.”

“Now, now, I’ll hear nothing of it. He may be eighteen, but you’re not. If your mother were here, do you think she’d leave you alone all night with a boy and a hotel full of beds?” DarLynn crossed her arms, a gesture Libby’s mom often used when irritated.

Heat crept up her neck again. No doubt, her mom would have done the same as DarLynn. Peter winked. Libby grinned, and little tingles shot down to her toes.

“DarLynn, why don’t you and I fix a plate and visit while the kids wake up and plan their day,” Peter’s mom said. “Plus, I can’t wait to hear more about your darling boys. I have experience on how to handle three headstrong youngsters.”

“What’s that?” DarLynn asked. “Put ’em in a band?”

“Exactly,” she said and both women roared with laughter.

While the women chatted like long-lost friends, Libby and Peter filled their plates and huddled together at the granite counter and ate. She had never expected to see him again, and sitting so close was beyond a fantasy come true. He seemed to agree as he picked that moment to kiss her.

“What would you like to do today,” she asked, not caring what they did.

“How about we go for a hike? I hear Granite Peak is beautiful.”

Roger found a trail off the beaten path, free from hordes of hikers. Thankfully, he stayed in the parking lot so Libby and Peter could spend the day alone.

They set out on their own with a new sense of freedom. It took a couple hours to reach the top of what seemed like a mountain, but was probably just a bluff or foothill by Colorado standards. Surrounded by the scent of pine and a light breeze, the outside world fell away as if only they existed. Huge outcroppings of rocks, sprinkled with occasional brush and trees, covered the peak. They sprawled against a warm boulder and enjoyed a spectacular view of the nearby mountains. Libby lifted her water bottle, took a long drink, then passed it to Peter. He offered a bag of trail mix in return.

A strong August breeze cooled their warm skin. Libby leaned back and turned her head to Peter. He wore his baseball cap backward, presenting his gorgeous face. Shecould stare at him forever.

“What are you looking at?” His bright eyes seemed to smirk.

“You. I can’t believe this is happening. I never dreamt I’d see you again.”

“All this time apart, and you didn’t even dream about me?” he teased.

“Stop it. You know that’s not true.” She took his hand and laced her fingers with his. It had been a struggle not to think about him.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” He kissed the top of her hand.

“Really?” Even with his rock star life, he still cared so much. How could she be this lucky?

“Really,” he said.

“So tell me about your dreams,” Libby said.

“Now that I have you, there’s not much left.”

She wiggled closer. “You’ve accomplished so much, more than most people do in a lifetime. But you can’t be done dreaming at eighteen. That would be tragic.”

“Let’s see, where do I begin?” He shifted to a more comfortable position, with Libby’s back against his chest, his arms wrapped comfortably around her. “Our last album went platinum in a week and our upcoming tour sold out in minutes. That’s all great, but I want to write the kind of music that lives on for decades. I’d like to move people with the power of my lyrics and music.”

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