Page 7 of Bend

“Me too.” Eli winked at me, the action setting off a little tingle that ran through my stomach and down to my groin. “That’s not my style. I’d butter you up, feed you well, then drug you and drag you into a kill room.”

I eyed our sandwiches pointedly. “I’m glad you’ve given this some thought.”

“I’ve given all sorts of things some thought.” Never mind that we were discussing possible murder locations, the glimpse of heat I caught in his eyes when he said that, well…. I pulled those thoughts up short. Eli Warner was not my type. He just wasn’t, even if I did have to credit him for being a little deeper than I’d originally thought.

As it turned out, there was a path, it was just buried behind a cluster of pine trees. We walked until it gave way to a grassy clearing that had a stream cutting a jagged line through it. On the other side of the stream was some kind of bell tower that stood alone but seemed to be in decent shape.

“There used to be a church here, but it burned down a hundred years or so ago. The story is that it’s haunted by the old pastor.” Eli flashed me a smile and snatched the bag of sandwiches from my hand as he strode through the grass.

I snorted, following after him. “Of course.”

Eli cut a curious look over at me. “So you’re a skeptic?”

“The only haunting I’ve ever experienced in my life is the ghost of last night’s tequila knocking on my temples. And I’ve pretty much exorcised that out of me.”

He laughed and we sat down in a patch of grass with a view of the bell tower and unwrapped our sandwiches. It was chilly, but we both had coats, and the silence pierced by an occasional bird call was peaceful after the steady rumble of the train and the constant jam sessions going on. It was comfortable, too. I’d just assumed Eli would be one of those always-talking and asking questions types, but he seemed perfectly content as we sat there eating, and I was the one to finally speak.

“You doing any filming here?”

“Nah. I just wanted to see it for myself, you know? I like things like that, those little points of interest tucked out of sight. Things other people don’t usually get to see.”

A flush crept up my throat as I thought back on him in his cabin the other night. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all, but the thought still arose and kept playing behind my eyes—the way he’d touched himself, his expression. A bolt of guilt ran through me as I became aware that Eli was staring at me. On second thought, maybe that was exactly what he was implying. Maybe he’d somehow seen me, or known, or guessed. Either way, I grunted some nonreply and focused my gaze on that damn bell tower while I wolfed down the rest of my sandwich, stretching back on the grass when I was done.

“You’re really not going to let me interview you? Because I’d love to hear more about your journey with Les and Evan. I think you’ve probably got some insight that could be cool.” Eli stretched out beside me, lacing his arms behind his head. The front of his coat opened over his sweater, a thin patch of his stomach showing at the bottom, pebbled in goose bumps, before he tugged the hem down.

I blinked over at him. “I see now. We’re in the fed and buttering-up stage.”

“Aside from promising not to follow through on the drugging and kill room part, is there anything else that would sway you?”

I turned my head to fix him with a look.

“Oh no no no, that’s not what I was implying. I’d never use sex as a bargaining chip. My naked lust for you is completely unrelated.” He gave me a sweet, innocent smile that was damn near believable and had probably gotten him out of plenty of jams before.

My brows rose. “Your ‘naked lust’ for me? Sounds like something out of a soap opera. Did I forget my script? Are there cameras in the trees?” I looked around pointedly, even if the way he was watching me was getting me a little hot under the collar. The fact was I was a little rusty on the whole flirting thing. For the past year, I’d focused on nothing but work. Maybe longer than that, and when we were out on the road, the clamor was always for the bands, not the husky tour manager trying to keep the moving parts aligned backstage.

“No cameras, just me trying to coax you into flirting back with me the way you so obviously want to.”

“Do I now?”

“Mm-hmm. You don’twantto want to, but you do. Maybe you forget I spend days on end reading between the lines of what people say, watching for the tells their bodies give away.”

Fuck, he was right—I definitely wanted him, and I definitely didn’t want to want him.

“I’ve thought about it. Just some good old-fashioned reckless, kill-the-time fooling around on that train. You know, as you do.” He arched a brow at me and my mouth dropped open, flummoxed because I sure as shit hadn’t expected him to outright proposition me. If that’s what he was doing? Because as I stared at him, he was so casual about it that it almost came off as if he were just idly talking about the weather and teasing me. But then he rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one arm as he gazed down at me, and there was that focused intensity I’d caught a glimpse of the other night. It was anything but idle. It sent sparks shooting straight through me, unexpectedly urgent. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip, and I couldn’t stop staring at it, imagining taking it between my teeth. It was a nice lower lip, plump and juicy, made for a pout, and I lifted my head, fully intending on tasting and testing the give in it when a single, sharp peal rang out, startling us both.

Eli jerked his gaze toward the bell tower, a look of wonder spreading over his features as he sat upright. “You heard that, right?”

I nodded, easing up slower. “Had to be the wind, though.” I gestured above us, where the leaves were indeed stirring in the trees, though honestly it wasn’t much of a breeze. A strange, electric shiver ran through me. “Fuck, that’s creepy.”

Eli hopped to his feet and reached out a hand so I could haul myself up. I took it without thinking. “C’mon, let’s go see if we can get inside and check it out.”

“Have you lost your damn mind?” I eyed the bell tower skeptically. “Who knows how sturdy that thing is?” But I let go of his hand and followed after him, and we picked our way across the stream using logs and stones until we stood in front of the old tower, looking up into it.

“The wind couldn’t have done that,” Eli said, and I was inclined to agree as we both considered the vestibule above where a trio of rusted out bells hung. “Of course, it’s not saying much for the afterlife that a clearly homophobic pastor ghost would cockblock two men about to kiss.”

“You think we were about to kiss, huh?” I tilted my head at him, turning that same skeptical expression on him, though I wasn’t sure how convincing it was.

“It’s cute that you’re trying to pretend we weren’t.” He beamed.