Free Love's Road Home by Lisa Lewis Page B

got established. While one part of her loved his familiar contact and the easy way he shared personal information with her, another part of Beth was troubled.
    Tom’s childhood and dreams were the extreme opposite of hers. He’d had a stable upbringing, and she’d been shuffled from one town to another, one performance to another. Now, when she was looking for a safe, solitary existence, he was embarking on the unsteady journey of every hopeful musician who longed to hit the big time. And, of course, he’d have to do whatever it took to remain there.
    It was guaranteed their affair would be a short one. If it ever got off the ground, that is. The tour’s run of bad luck over the past week seemed to extend itself to Tom and Beth’s relationship as well.
    Not a single opportunity had arisen where they could do more than kiss. Now that their interest in each other was common knowledge, the band and crew members appeared to be sabotaging Tom and Beth’s attempts to be alone.
    She wasn’t sure whether it was deliberate or not, but the end result was the same: No sex yet.
    And she was getting more frustrated with each passing day.
    "I’d love to take you fishing in the Adirondacks . Our drummer, Dylan, grew up in New York , and he knows the best places to go. I think you’d like it."
    Beth was jerked back to the present at Tom’s comment. "Excuse me?"
    "I said, I want to take you fishing in upstate New York . Dylan could tell us where to go."
    That’s what she’d thought he said. What the heck was he thinking?
    "Uh, Tom. I’ve never been fishing in my life. Unless you count those mechanical carnival games with the floating plastic fish. But that was almost twenty years ago, and I sucked at it anyway."
    She was babbling, but Beth didn’t know what else to say. Hadn’t she made it clear to Tom that there was no future for them after the tour?
    Apparently she hadn’t been clear enough.
    But, since she didn’t want to upset the general amity of the moment, Beth decided not to push the issue. She would just play along with him.
    "Like I told you, I haven’t gone for a long time, either," Tom was saying. "I think it’s like riding a bike—you never forget once you master it. And I was damn good, if I do say so myself. I’d enjoy showing you all the tricks I know."
    Beth knew he was referring to fishing, but she chose to believe he knew quite a few sexual tricks as well. God willing, she would learn some of those very soon.
    "What did you do for fun growing up?"
    Huh? The man jumped from one topic to another like a slingshot.
    "What?"
    "You didn’t fish. You didn’t play miniature golf. So what did you do for recreation?"
    Tom waited patiently for her reply while Beth tried to wipe the astonished look off her face.
    Didn’t he realize that her entire adolescence had been a recreational experience? And not by her choice.
    She’d had to work very hard to remain focused on schoolwork, but Beth had been determined to get in to a respectable college. She’d been accepted to Stanford, so at least part of her life had gone to plan.
    "Um, I was on the road with my dad, remember?" Beth fumbled for a nice way to remind Tom that her childhood hadn’t been remotely like his. "We didn’t exactly have a lot of leisure time." And it still hurt to think about all she’d missed out on growing up.
    "Hey, we’re on tour now. And if you have time to be with me, then I’m sure when you were young, George had time to spend with you." Tom’s chiding tone didn’t sit well with Beth. What did he know? He hadn’t been there.
    Memories of her teenage years crowded her: Trying to study on the bus as spontaneous jam sessions broke out. Being watched by a hotel maid-turned-babysitter while after-concert parties transpired down the hall or on another floor. Crying herself to sleep because she had no friends or mother to confide in.
    She’d only survived her first menstrual period because the bassist of a long-defunct all-girl rock