Covered In Lace

chapter THREE

The studio engineer called Flynn and said Lacey had canceled all her reserved studio time until further notice. He could not help but wonder if that decision had anything to do with their conversation the previous night on her back steps. He hadn’t exactly done a good job of explaining himself - wasn’t even sure if what he was thinking or feeling mattered, but deliberately hurting a woman’s feelings was not in his nature.

He looked across the connecting lawns at Lacey’s cottage and saw the place was in darkness. He knew she wasn’t at the studio so the only other place he thought she might be was O’Sullivan’s.

He grabbed the keys to his truck and walked out his back door. The stifling heat and humidity hit him hard, making it almost painful to breathe in the thick air. Sweat began beading on his brow in the short walk to his vehicle.

He turned the key in the ignition to start the engine and cranked the knob for the air conditioning onto high. Sitting for a moment while the truck cab cooled, Flynn saw the distant flash of lightning. He made a silent wish for rain to cool the temperature, then pulled out of his driveway heading for town.

O’Sullivan’s was on the outskirts of town; which was probably a good thing, considering some of the rowdy crowds the bar attracted. Most came in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the recording artists working in his studio. How many times had the local police been called to break-up a fight in the parking lot or a drunken brawl inside, Flynn thought, stepping from his truck.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the sky above him, as he made his way around to the entrance of the building; a rumble of thunder soon followed. The odds for rain were getting better by the second, he thought.

He pulled the front door open and stepped inside. The strumming of an acoustic guitar could be heard complimenting a feminine singing voice - and damn, could she sing! Sexy, slurred lyrics; velvety smooth like aged Scotch, rolled from her throat. He stood at the door for a moment and closed his eyes; allowing the voice to vibrate inside his chest. The hairs on his arms started to stand on end. Cheers from the crowd gathered in the adjacent room broke his trance.

“You people are too kind,” Lacey said into the microphone.

“Play, “Love Me All Night”, a man yelled from the back of the room.

“That’s an oldie, but I think I could pull it out of the archives for you,” she said.

Flynn made his way to the bar and ordered a beer, then walked to the opening of the pool room. The place was packed with locals, most standing, some sitting on the edges of idle pool tables, while others sat on stools they had carried in from the bar area.

Lacey shifted her position on her wooden stool; a short, white denim skirt rode up her thighs, stretch Lycra top hugged her breasts, and a worn pair of cowboy boots rested beside the stool. Jesus! She was barefoot, Flynn thought, and swallowed hard.

“You want to ‘Love Me All Night’?” she teased.

Another chorus of cheers and whistles erupted from the audience and Lacey laughed. Her fingers began to pluck at the strings of the guitar. She hummed the intro, then slid easily into the first verse. Flynn watched her perform, mesmerized by her confidence and control of her audience. A man stood beside Flynn and sighed loudly, lovingly patting his chest on the spot over his heart. “I’d let her love me all night…” he started to say.

Flynn stepped away before the man finished his thought. He moved closer to Lacey and leaned against the wall. As far as he knew, she still hadn’t noticed he was there. She sang three more songs before hopping off the stool to take a break. She was slipping on her boots when Flynn appeared in front of her.

“I must have missed the ads for your concert,” he said.

Lacey stood up at the sound of his voice. “I’d hardly call this a concert,” she said, and stepped off the make-shift plywood platform. He followed her to the bar, waited for her to get a glass of ice water, and made sure he was in her path when she turned.

“What can I do for you, Flynn?” she asked, nearly bumping into the wall of his chest.

“I got a call from the studio,” he said. “They say you’ve canceled all your time.”

“So what if I did?” she asked. “I’m sure you can rebook the studio and if not, I’m happy to pay you for the time.”

“This isn’t about the money,” he said, his fingers circled her bicep as she attempted to step past him. Her eyes dropped to his hand curled around her arm.

“Then what is it about?” she asked.

Flynn hesitated and Lacey pulled away from his grasp. She returned to the pool room and began collecting her things, wiping down the neck of her guitar with a soft cloth and setting it into the case.

“I was curious why you canceled,” he said.

Lacey latched the locks on the guitar case and stood it upright. “If you must know,” she said, “I’m dealing with four male egos that seem hell-bent on acting like they’re still in junior high.” She picked up a backpack and slid it over her shoulder, then looked at Flynn. “Does that answer your question?”

“No problems with the studio or the personnel?” he asked.

“Nope,” she said, and began to walk through the crowded bar with Flynn right beside her. “Why would there be?”

Heavy drops of rain began falling when they got outside. The crackle and flash of lightning caused Lacey to jump and scream; the backpack on her shoulder slipped and fell onto the gravel parking lot.

“Jesus! I hate thunderstorms,” she said, and started to run toward her car. Flynn collected the backpack and helped her load the car, then drove behind her back toward the lake.

The closer they got to their cottages, the worse the storm became. Trees bent violently in the wind, rain now beat against the car and windshield sounding like machine gun fire. The sky was lit with white electrical flashes making it seem like daytime.

Lacey began driving erratically, dodging small pieces of tree branches blowing across the street and speeding up with every new bolt of lightning zigzagging through the sky.

Lacey skidded to a stop in the driveway and made a mad dash toward the front door of her cottage. The pouring rain soaked through her clothes in seconds. Half way to the door she dropped her keys in the wet grass. Flynn watched her for a moment, then heard her anguished screams and jumped from his truck.

He grabbed her from behind and carried her onto the screened porch. The flashes of light around them were almost constant. Thunder rattled the house and the ground around them and Lacey was near hysteria.

“I dropped the damn key!” she screamed. “I can’t get inside.”

Flynn calmly reached above the door frame and retrieved a spare house key, then used it to open the door. Lacey was too busy stomping her feet like an agitated child to pay attention to what he had done and once the door opened, she pushed her way past him; disappearing into the darkened living room.

Flynn flicked the wall switch in the kitchen for the lights and nothing happened. Then he hurried around the house shutting all the open windows. When he finished that task he found Lacey cowering on the living room floor sitting between the couch and the coffee table with her knees pulled up tightly to her chest. Another flash had Lacey covering her ears and screaming again. Flynn knelt down beside her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this afraid of a little thunder,” he said with a laugh.

“You think this is funny?” she asked. She attempted to slap him but lightning struck a tree across the lake and sent her into another frenzy. “Make it stop, Flynn, please make it stop!”

She began rocking back and forth in place on the floor; hands again over her ears. Flynn bent forward; his arms circled her. She clung to him; her face buried into the curve of his neck, hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

“Please, Flynn! Do something!”

She was shaking uncontrollably, tears glistened on her cheeks. Seeing her in such a state of panic made his chest tighten, made him want to protect her as best he could. He rolled her head on his shoulder and waited for her eyes to open. His fingers skimmed through the moisture on her face. Even in this state he thought she was beautiful, vulnerable; and he wanted nothing more than to make her feel safe. His lips softly pressed to her brow.

“If I could make it stop, I would,” he said.

His lips brushed her cheek and Lacey closed her eyes; briefly feeling solace. Then thunder vibrated the glass in the windows and Lacey lurched, almost landing in Flynn’s lap. He held her tighter, stroking her back to comfort.

The storm continued to intensify and Lacey’s whimpers grew louder, as did her pleading; sounding much like prayer. Each passing minute brought her closer to insanity, complete and utter terror. He had never seen such fear in anyone’s eyes before.

“We’re not safe, here, Flynn!” she shouted, trying to scramble to her feet. “The house will catch fire!”

Flynn grabbed her arms and pulled her to his chest; her mouth inches from his. He could feel her breath coming in rapid bursts, warming every cell of his body. Before she could scream at the next flash of light, his mouth covered hers.

Lacey’s mind raced with survival instincts. His closeness was overwhelming, made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air; her body going stiff, and then she felt the intimacy of Flynn’s touch. The moment his protective embrace transitioned into something more, her body relaxed and her mouth opened to his.

He felt the change in her and eased her back against the base of the couch; his lips gently rubbing hers. Warm and pliable; her mouth set off an avalanche of emotion for him. Her hands slid around the column of his neck and pulled him closer. His mouth fully covered hers and her head began to spin.

Her fears from the storm began to fade the deeper his kiss grew. Long, soothing strokes of his tongue stole her attention from the flashes outside the windows. Flynn’s body molded to hers and Lacey was lost to his touch; his taste. Her fingers combed through his hair and tugged. She felt the vibrations of a moan escape his mouth and roll into hers.

Their kiss seemed endless until Flynn finally pulled away. The silence around them felt heavy.

“Storm’s over,” he said.

Lacey reached for him again and she watched him sit upright creating more distance between them.

“Maybe it will come back,” she said with a questioning tone.

Flynn smiled. “That doesn’t usually happen.”

“Maybe a new one will form.”

He looked at her; lips still moist and swollen from the duration of their kiss, eyes wide with anticipation. He ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip and felt a subtle quiver.

“I think we’re done with the storms for tonight,” he said, and climbed to his feet.

“You’re leaving?”

“Tomorrow’s a work day.”

She stepped beside him and fanned her fingers across the firmness of his chest. Her eyes slowly rose to meet his.

“Stay,” she said.

He placed his hands over hers and lightly squeezed. “I can’t,” he said.

“But I still don’t have power,” she said.

Flynn looked out a side window and saw his porch light was on. “Well, there’s power on the street,” he said. “I’ll check your electric panel in the basement and see if a breaker was tripped.”

Flynn went down into the basement and a moment later, the lights came on inside her cottage. She met him in the kitchen, watched him put the flashlight back into the utility drawer, then walk toward the door. He stopped and looked at her.

“You look scared,” he said.

“I am,” she said.

“You’ll be fine,” he said with a nod, as if that gesture alone would somehow make it true. He gave her a wave and stepped outside.





It was almost noon when Lacey emerged from her cottage. Another hot and sunny day awaited her. She heard Flynn clunking things around the back of his pick-up truck in the driveway and walked toward the noise.

“Looks like you survived the night,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks to you,” she said. She watched him unloading tools and boxes of wood scraps and setting them on the grass next to the back entrance of his house. She took a seat on the second step and looked at him.

“I thought you said you had to work?” she asked.

“I did. Went to work for seven-thirty this morning,” he said. “I’m home now for lunch.”

“What are you working on?”

Flynn scratched his head, then dried the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “One of my tenants moved out and I’m remodeling the place before the new renters come in.”

“Do you own a lot of rental properties?”

“Enough to keep me busy.”

Lacey nodded and forced a smile to her face. “You’re probably wondering why I have such an irrational fear of thunderstorms.”

Flynn shrugged and kept on working. “We all have our fears.”

“What’s yours?” she asked.

“Snakes,” he said. “Doesn’t matter how big or small, venomous or not, I hate ‘em all.”

Lacey laughed and tipped her head back to stare at the puffy, white clouds passing high overhead. She toyed with the hem of her skirt, contemplating her words. “When I was young, me and four of my cousins used to spend most of the summer with my grandparents in Ohio,” she said. “The summer I turned ten, a horrible storm blew in late one afternoon.”

Flynn stopped working and leaned against the side of his truck. He saw Lacey’s body language change. He watched her hug her knees to her chest and start rocking; just as she had the night before.

“The storm came in quick; catching us all off guard. Somehow my grandmother managed to get everyone inside. We were about to head down into the basement when my cousin Teddy darted back outside to get a toy he didn’t want to get wet. He couldn’t have been more than five at the time. Lightning was flashing all around, shit blowing and hitting the sides of the house.” Lacey covered her ears. “The thunder was deafening. I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”

“Jesus, what happened?” Flynn asked.

“I tried to stop Teddy, but he got past me; ran right out into the storm over by the clothesline. My grandfather chased him, scooped him up in his arms, and was running full throttle back to the house. All of a sudden a bolt of lightning shot to the ground. We could hear it crackle and sizzle through the sky toward the ground and then boom - right before our eyes, Teddy and my grandfather got hit. I could see the current shoot through the metal pole of the clothesline and slam right into them. It was like an explosion. The force knocked them both to the ground.”

Lacey wiped the tears trickling down her cheeks and glanced at Flynn, then looked away. “It burned the clothes off Teddy’s backside and blew the shoes from his feet. The smell of burnt skin was disgusting. Teddy died right there on the spot; he didn’t stand a chance, but Grandfather lived long enough to get to the hospital. He died a few hours later.”

“Holy shit,” Flynn said.

“Maybe now you’ll understand why I was out of my mind last night,” she said. “I’m grateful you stayed with me as long as you did. Otherwise, I might have had a total meltdown.”

“I can’t imagine what it must have been like to see that happen right in front of you.”

“Stuff like that stays with you,” she said. “And in some ways, it haunts you.”

Lacey stood up from the stairs and began to walk away, then she stopped and faced him. Flynn had already gone back to lifting things from his truck when she called his name. She waited until he looked at her.

“Did your kiss last night mean anything or were you just trying to shut me up?”

Flynn smiled. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he said. “Besides, your screaming was beginning to hurt my ears.”

Lacey’s posture stiffened. “That's a shame,” she said and turned away. “Because I really liked it.”

“Lacey, I…”

She raised her hand and waved at him over her shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later, Flynn.”