Meet Me in Barcelona by Mary Carter

Author:Mary Carter [Carter, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-06-11T16:00:00+00:00

Finally she was at the edge.

“That song,” Jean Sebastian said. “You wrote it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s beautiful. Sounds sad.”

You have no idea. “I’ve never sung it for anyone.”

“Why not?”

“It’s personal.”

“I want to hear the rest sometime.”

“Now what?” Grace said.

“The balcony is just around the corner. You’ll have to scoot, then either bend down, or just jump. From there, it’s only another short jump to the ground.”

“Oh, God.”

“Don’t think, just sing and go.”

“It was a Tuesday night, he was a working man, he had a son named Stan.” Grace stepped out farther and planted her foot. She rounded the corner and lost her balance. Jean Sebastian’s arm was on her chest in an instant, and he held her back against the building. She could feel his arm atop her breasts, and she could feel her heart beating against his forearm like a one-woman drum circle.

“Easy,” Jean Sebastian said. “Easy.” He sounded so in control. It dawned on her that his experience in the Congo had probably prepared him for much worse than this. “If you stay still, I think I can make it around you. I’ll jump onto the balcony first and then I’m there to catch you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Grace hated that she was so afraid. But she was immobile again, and no amount of singing was going to help this time.

“Don’t move.”

No problema, she thought, but she couldn’t even say the words. She pressed her back hard against the building. Jean Sebastian scooted close to her. He put one hand on either side of her, one foot on either side of her feet. They were face-to-face, close enough to kiss, and she had the most inappropriate urge to do just that. Jake would not like this one bit. Jean Sebastian scooted his left hand out farther, then brought his right to her other side and finally swung his last foot over. He was now on the other side of her. From there he jumped. She heard a bang as he landed on a chair on the balcony and knocked over a cigarette bucket that clanged to the ground. He landed with the chair on top of him and his top leg bent.

“Are you okay?”

“Un momento.” Jean Sebastian moaned and held his leg. He thrashed out and kicked the cigarette bucket away. “Maybe I will quit,” he said, flicking butts off him. “Fuckers.” Grace guessed the word worked no matter what your native language was. She wondered what the Belgian word for fuckers was. Jean Sebastian soon righted himself. He held out his arms. “Nothing broken.” He moved close to the edge and kept his arms open. “I’ll catch you. I promise.”

He was tall. And seemed pretty sturdy.

“Can you move the chair? And get rid of the cigarettes?”

“You’re pretty picky for a damsel in distress.”

“Sorry.”

Jean Sebastian shook his head and smiled, but moved the chair and kicked cigarettes out of the way. “Good?”

“Better.”

“Jump.”

“Oh, God.”

“I’ve got you.” Grace jumped. Jean Sebastian’s arms wrapped around her, but the force of her coming into him sent him stumbling back a few steps.

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