Free Back to You by Roya Carmen Page A

unfortunately, John had been a perfect gentleman – all business, efficient as can be. She hadn’t taken too long to make up her mind selecting the supplies – she had known exactly what she had in mind, and luckily the stores had everything she was looking for.
    There had been no secret rendez-vous at the back of the warehouse, or in a display kitchen – just lots of perusing, note taking, measuring, and ordering.
    She was actually exhausted, and stretched back comfortably on the leather seat of John’s truck.
    “We’ll go back in a week or so for the lighting,” he told her. “There’s no way we could have gotten everything done in one trip,” he pointed out. “We were really productive, though,” he said with a proud smile.
    “Yes… productive,” Sophie muttered under her breath, a little miffed there had not been even one iota of flirting.
    The sound of a new song on John’s car speakers suddenly caught her attention – the rhythmic beat of the music was almost hypnotic. She swayed her head from side to side and soon found herself almost in a trance. It was the story of a man and a woman –weren’t all songs about a man and a woman really, she thought to herself. 
    “This is a great song,” she told John. “What is it?” she asked, still getting lost in the beat, and the deep gravely voice seducing her.
    “It’s Bob Dylan,” John told her, “Don’t you remember it?” he asked, with a surprised expression. “Your dad always listened to it.”
    Yes, her father had been a big Dylan fan. John was doing it again, bringing back memories of her father, not only with his mere presence, but now, also with his choice of music and his words.
    “If you really want to hear this song, close your eyes,” he suggested with a hint of a smile – that sexy smile, the one which did things to her. “It’s a ‘close your eyes’ kind of song.”
    She shifted in her seat, “I’m sure it’s almost over.”
    “Well, it’s almost seven minutes long,” he told her. “But here…” he said, with the simple click of a button, he started the song over.
    “Close your eyes,” he ordered.
    “John, this… this is silly,” she stammered.
    “Do it,” he pressed. “I’m the one driving.”
    She did as she was told; stretched back on the leather seat, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the rhythmic sounds and the slight up and down motion of the truck going over the road leading to her house. She felt her body relax and a smile came to her face as she listened to the folk song about lost love. She listened intently. The song was clearly about a woman who held a power over a man – a temptress, a turbulent woman who had a strong hold of him. But as Sophie listened, the lyrics became darker – about caskets and tombs, and death. She was surprised – she had thought this was a love song.
     
    As she listened to the end of the song, she could still feel the rhythm of the music, but the vibrations from the road had stopped. They had been motionless for a while.
    She could feel John’s eyes on her. It was strange – her eyes were closed, yet she was sure he was looking at her. The lyrics and the sounds of the song slowly disappeared from her mind, and all she could sense was him. She slowly opened her eyes.
    John had taken off his seat belt and he was watching her – his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. His expression was foreign – gone were the playful joking smiles she was so used to seeing.
    He inched slowly toward her, not taking his eyes off her. She found herself paralyzed – with anticipation, fear, even apprehension perhaps. She knew something was going to happen between them – but they couldn’t be doing this.
    He leaned into her and snapped her seat belt loose. She wasn’t sure what he was doing but she certainly wanted to find out. He cupped her face, the rough texture of his hands sending shivers through her spine, his eyes looking right into her for what seemed an eternity.
    And then