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Tectonic (Double Blind Study Book 3)

Page 5

by Heidi Hutchinson


  She grabbed his hand and twirled herself as if they were on a dance floor. She hopped her butt onto the counter, delivering the lyrics like she was auditioning for a Broadway performance. Planting a hand on each of his shoulders, she sung earnestly into his face. He was beyond amused, his smile genuine but a little unsure.

  The song ended and she hopped off the counter and checked her vegetables. “Next time, I expect you to participate.”

  “I'm not a really a... musician.” His tone dropping to the octave she was anticipating.

  She paused the appropriate amount of time before asking quietly, “You think things would have turned out differently if you had been?”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  “I guess it depends on what situation you're referring to,” he responded tightly. His very public romance and subsequent breakup with Lenny Evans where she had ended up with the lead singer of Double Blind Study had painted him in an ugly light with the media. The following year, when he debuted at the VMAs with a young songbird from Oklahoma, it had caused quite a rustle with the local papers in southern California. Especially when a few weeks later, she married the guitarist from the same band that Lenny had married into a few months prior. He didn't have the best outcome when it came to love and musicians.

  She turned the burner off and took a deep breath. Turning around to face him, she saw his head dipped a little lower, their previous moment of silliness forgotten. He looked into his near-empty glass but his eyes seemed so far away. She slid her hands across the counter until they caught his attention.

  His eyes came back to hers, face sad and drawn. The regret he felt darkened his amber eyes to a smoky brown and she wished she could mix that exact color with her acrylics on her painter's palette.

  He was beautiful, even sad.

  “It's not a dead-end, just a detour.”

  ***

  Shane couldn't look away. He had no intention of breaking open the fissure that he had created the night he'd left Lucy. He kept that tucked away safe and only brought it out when he was sure he was alone and no one could see his pain. In fact, he had been determined to keep Greta away from that particular broken aspect of himself.

  But she'd completely disarmed him. Stripped him of his sword and shield with a slow blink.

  He felt exposed and bare.

  He didn't like it.

  Swallowing hard, he simply nodded. He couldn't answer her, not yet. She had cut straight to the core of him and he'd been unprepared. Her gentle expression and soft voice were conveniently comforting. He was torn between fleeing her presence and hoping she'd say something else that felt like a balm on his raw emotions.

  “Shane.” Greta came around the island so she was standing next to him. He swiveled to face her more directly. “You can trust me. Really.” Her eyes held no deception. Not a drop.

  “You scare me,” he admitted seriously. She didn't laugh or even crack a smile. Another slow blink as she looked at the center of his chest. “You must know how much you look like her.” He couldn't stop himself from saying it. That brought her eyes back to his and he marveled at the blue. So different from Lucy.

  “I'm not her. And I have no intention of trying to be her,” Greta whispered roughly. “My goal is help you get through this.”

  Shane reached out and grabbed her face with both hands, pulling her close to him. He heard her sharp intake of air, but she didn't resist.

  “How? How do you help me through this? What's the plan? I don't like your games. I don't like that you can see through me like a frickin' window. What do you think you're gonna find? I'm not a good person. I'm a liar and a cheater and I use women for my own gain. I tried to be someone different with Lucy and it didn't pay off. What makes you think you're gonna like what you see when you get to the deep, dark bottom of who I really am?”

  He was breathing heavily and he could see the worry on her face. Not fear. Not panic. Only worry. Compassion. Sympathy.

  She didn't blink or try to get away. She only stared back into his eyes, searching him as desperately as he was searching her.

  “Am I interrupting something?” Clarke's slow voice cut into their standoff and Shane released Greta.

  “No, dinner is almost ready.” Greta calmly went back to her task at the stove.

  Clarke gave Shane a suspicious once-over. He flexed his jaw and swirled the melting ice in his drink.

  “I'm gonna get changed. You'll be okay for a minute?” she asked Greta with a frown.

  “Of course! Mike and Harry should be here soon.” Greta smiled sweetly and started to get plates down from an open cabinet.

  Clarke left them again and Shane felt the self-condemnation start to overwhelm him. What had he just done?

  “Greta, I'm s—”

  “No.” Greta spun around, adamant. “No. You didn't do anything wrong. Don't you dare apologize.”

  Shane was shaking his head to disagree, but she smiled widely as Harrison and Mike entered, eliminating the chance for him to make amends until later. If he even could.

  He felt like he'd crossed a line he didn't know was there. And it scared him. Or was it Greta that brought that side of him out?

  Maybe he should be more afraid of her.

  Chapter 3

  Are You In?

  “Lenny said that you've made some huge strides the past couple of weeks,” Harrison directed at Shane.

  “Couldn't have done it without her. Or Luke, for that matter. That guy's head never runs out of ideas.”

  “No shit.” Mike nodded in agreement. “He never quits. Even now, even though we're on 'hiatus,' he's already emailed me three new songs for the next DBS album.”

  Dinner could not be going better, Greta decided. She had been a little nervous about Shane being there with Mike and Harry, but she saw now that that particular worry was useless. Harry didn't have a problem with anyone on the planet, and Mike was the most laid back guy she had ever met.

  On that thought, she slid her eyes to Clarke, who was paying way more attention to Greta than even her food. Which was unheard of. The girl loved to eat. But maybe Greta should have expected that after Clarke had walked in when she and Shane were having a 'moment.' Or whatever that was.

  Greta wanted to kick Clarke under the table, but she was sitting too far away. The girl needed to stop staring at her. She was sitting directly across from Mike and completely ignoring him. That would not fly with Greta.

  Was this because Clarke had been so tired lately? She'd been working round the clock for months now. Greta decided she would be having words with Shane about this. Sooner rather than later. It was not cool that Clarke was too exhausted to have a decent conversation with Mike, who was super awesome, and Greta wanted to see little Clarke and Mike babies someday. At the rate things were going with Clarke's level of fatigue and lack of interest in the drummer, Greta could about forget getting a child named after her in the future.

  Shane's phone lit up on the table and he glanced at the display while frowning. It was probably work-related, she surmised. He confirmed that when his eyes finally flicked up to hers, the first time he'd looked at her since they sat down. He smiled apologetically, then faced Clarke.

  “Shipment came early, Clarke. You wanna come down to the shop and help me put it away?”

  Greta set her fork down loudly, Shane noticed. Clarke had obviously not heard him; she was still staring at Greta obsessively. It wasn't fair, she had just gotten home a few minutes ago. She shouldn't have to go back to work so soon.

  “Clarke,” Shane tried again.

  Her head snapped up and she looked at Mike instead of Shane. Mike gave her a playful smile and Greta wanted more than ever for Clarke to not have to go into work.

  “Clarke?” Shane said her name again more slowly and Clarke's eyes finally made their way to his. “You didn't hear me at all, did you?”

  “Sorry, boss,” Clarke cleared her throat as Harry and Mike sniggered quietly.

  “You okay, Clark
e?” Greta asked, noticing the slight flush on her face.

  “Of course.” She tried to laugh it off. “I guess I wasn't paying attention.”

  “No kidding,” Shane concurred. “Shipment came early.” He held up his phone. “I was asking if you wanted to go down to the shop with me and help put it away.”

  Clarke pushed back from the table. “Sure.”

  “No, you just got home,” Greta found herself speaking up, directing her glare at Shane across the table from her. They had a very fast, very silent conversation. He narrowed his eyes at her and she accepted the challenge.

  “You work all the time. Why can't someone else do it?”

  The energy in the room shifted, but she wasn't going to back off.

  “It's all the new stuff, Greta,” Clarke responded, the fatigue in her voice barely masked. “No one else will do it right. I'll just end up redoing it anyway.”

  “Why don't we all go?” Mike spoke up, cutting into the thick hostility that Greta was still aiming at Shane. God bless Mike for coming up with a better plan than Greta, who was prepared to do battle right then and there for her best friend's sanity and future baby-making happiness.

  “Yeah, let's all go.” Greta cocked her head at Shane, daring him to object. But he simply chuckled at her, not affected in the slightest. Which actually kind of pissed her off more.

  “It's fine with me.” Shane looked to Clarke. “It's your call.”

  “Why not?” Clarke shrugged. “Many hands make for... something.” She stood up and began clearing the table.

  Harrison and Mike took over on washing the dishes, which had become their nightly ritual, and Clarke ran upstairs. Greta shot a look at Shane before chasing after her.

  “This should be fun.” Greta tried to sound positive as she grabbed her flip-flops out of her room and slid her feet into them in the hallway.

  “I guess.” Clarke shrugged and grabbed her Chucks from behind the door. She sat down in the hallway to tie them and raised an eyebrow at Greta. “What was that with you and Shane when I came home?”

  Greta rolled her eyes. “Just a weird moment. It's all part of the experience, Clarke.”

  “You sure you know what you're doing?” Clarke asked quietly. “I know I said that I didn't want you doing this with my boss, but in all honesty... Shane doesn't have the best reputation when it comes to women, and I don't want to see you get hurt.”

  Isn't that exactly what Shane had tried to warn her about? And Brady, too, in a way? She couldn't back out now, she'd started this crazy thing. She had to see how it turned out. Greta forced her mouth into a wide smile. “I'll be fine. Nothing like that will happen with Shane. Believe me.” Her eyes widened at the end, trying to convey what a ridiculous idea that was.

  “Promise me that if things should change in that department, you'll come talk to me?” Clarke pressed, still not convinced.

  “Of course! Besides, I may kill him for overworking you before we get much further,” Greta warned, half-serious.

  Clarke chuckled. “You know I enjoy my job. You don't have to be so protective.”

  “Hello, Pot? This is Kettle.” Greta held her hand up to the side of her head like she was answering a phone.

  “Touché.” Clarke smiled and stood up. They turned to descend the stairs together. “I'm glad you're coming along tonight. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever.”

  “Which is why I insist on family dinners every night.” Greta hooked an arm through Clarke's. “Although, if you get a minute to hang out with Mike one-on-one, please take it.”

  Clarke swiveled her head quickly toward Greta, who kept her face straight and looking forward as they came to the bend in the stairs before entering the foyer. “Why do you say that?”

  Before Greta had to fake a non-answer, the front door opened and Steve, Bo and Brady came sauntering through.

  “Where you guys headed?” Steve did the guy chin-lift at them. Just like they were one of the dudes. That's probably where Greta had picked it up. She'd have to be more aware of how often she used it.

  “To the shop. Have to put some stuff away,” Clarke answered. Greta slipped her arm free and then ducked between the guys to make a beeline for the kitchen.

  She came up behind Mike and slid a hand up his back. He automatically dipped his head lower so she could speak in his ear. “I think we can all fit in the Rover but I need you to move the cars in the driveway.” She pulled back and subtly jerked her head in the direction of Clarke who was cornered by the guys. Mike didn't even respond before heading that direction. Excellent.

  Steve's booming voice echoed in the entryway, “What's Mister Wonderful doing here?”

  Greta deliberately ignored Shane's reaction as she helped Harrison finish up the dishes. But this was the moment when they would all know that Shane was the new guy. And if Greta knew these guys at all, they would have something to say about it.

  “What are you doin' here, dude?” Steve slapped Shane on the back as he and his group loudly entered the kitchen.

  Greta glanced over her shoulder as she finished putting away the plates her brother had just washed, making brief eye contact with Brady. She faced forward again and took a calming breath.

  “You're not Garbo's new lap dog, are you?” Steve laughed riotously. Greta rolled her eyes.

  “Have you always been this much of a dick or did it get worse recently?” Shane countered cynically.

  “It's worse,” Brady answered with a sigh. “We need to get him neutered or something.”

  “Lap dog?” Harrison leaned over to ask—a little too judgmentally, in Greta's opinion.

  She sighed in exasperation. “It's not like that.”

  “Greta and I have a business deal,” Shane explained rationally. “She's gonna let me coach her.”

  Steve paused in his guzzling of the orange juice straight from the container to frown in disbelief.

  Greta made a mental note to tell Clarke not to drink the juice.

  “Ha, yeah right!” Bo slid onto a stool at the island. “Garbo doesn't need coaching. If anything, she could show you a few things, old man.”

  “Not surfing.” Shane ran a hand through his hair and paused.

  Greta saw the thoughts roll through his head as he realized that a public declaration would make their arrangement permanent. He was having second thoughts. She held her breath.

  “Snowboarding.” Shane looked up at his friends. His formerly undecided face now filled with professionalism.

  “No shit?” Bo rubbed the blond soul-patch on his chin and nodded his approval. “I'd pay to see that.”

  “I had no idea you were thinking of snowboarding.” Harrison bumped her shoulder with his, and she thought she heard a touch of pride in his voice.

  “It kinda just happened today,” Greta explained. She raised an eyebrow at him, “You approve?”

  “Hell yes. It would be way cool to have you do the same thing as Lenny does.” Harrison unplugged the drain in the sink and began rinsing it. “In fact, Mike and I are heading up to Tahoe to meet Luke and Lenny in a couple weeks, maybe you and your coach could join us.”

  ***

  The vibe between him and Greta was definitely weird. It kept changing without so much as a warning. She was sweet to him one second and pissed as a wet cat the next. Shane was having a hard time keeping up. He couldn't decide what he wanted to do more—laugh like hell at her antics, or drag her ass down to the gym to box it out. Either way, he had made one big decision: he wasn't walking away from this challenge. She wanted in? Fine, he'd let her in. But he was going to figure her out before this was all over.

  On top of all that, even though they had met just a few days ago, he already felt like he'd known her for much longer. Maybe it was because she was Clarke's roommate and had seriously worked her way into his closest friends' daily lives. And then there was that pesky detail that she was a blood relative to Double Blind Study, the band that he couldn't seem to get away from.

  Yep, th
ey were connected. In more ways than one.

  He'd met her days ago, but already he'd had more nonverbal communications with her than with anyone in his entire life. Those ice blue eyes were loud when they had a point to convey. And then were only slight less sassy than her mouth.

  She slid into the backseat of the Land Rover with him, her face stony. He wanted to laugh. She was pissed again. Even after that little discussion in the kitchen with the guys where he announced his intention to coach her and she nearly melted. He pretended not to notice, but he totally did. She had turned sweet for a split second again.

  He glanced sideways at her stiff figure and clenched jaw. Apparently, she'd since come to her senses.

  “What are you riled up about now?” he asked with amusement.

  She jerked her head around and her blue eyes blazed at the edges. She dropped her voice to a hissed whisper, attempting to keep Clarke, who was settling into the driver's seat, from overhearing. “I think you make Clarke work too much. She was barely home for an hour and already she has to go back to work.”

  “Geez, woman.” Shane rolled his eyes. “I'm going to work too. Or maybe you didn't notice that?”

  “It's your business,” Greta retorted and then faced away from him, looking out the window.

  Shane let that go for about five seconds, then he curled one hand around her bicep and hauled her ass across the seat so she was pressed to his side. She sucked in air in surprise. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and dipped his head to her ear.

  “Just because you have a big opinion doesn't mean you're always right. Clarke gets paid very well for what she does. Having the position she has means she gets called in at weird times. It doesn't mean she's getting taken advantage of, and it doesn't mean she isn't being compensated.” Her body was completely still next to his, and he was a little shocked she didn't have a mouthy comeback. “You need to chill out, chick.”

  The front and back passenger doors opened. Mike pitched himself into the front and Harrison climbed into the seat that Greta had recently been pulled from. Shane eased his hold on her and casually laid his arm across the seat back. Harrison gave them a cursory once-over and then nodded. Shane's eyes swept up to Clarke's in the rear view mirror. While Harrison hadn't seen anything unusual, Clarke was another matter. She shook her head slightly before putting the vehicle in reverse.

 

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