by Kelly Moore
“I know, I’m sorry, but I really can’t get into it at this moment. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“A call to let me know that you were going to be a no-show would’ve been warranted.” Her concern has turned to scolding.
“All you need to know is that something unforeseen came up,” I grit through my teeth. “If you’ll give me the band's contact number, I’ll schedule them a time to come to the recording studio at no charge.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
Something else is hidden in her words. It’s personal. She’s taken it as if I stood her up. I swallow a few times, reining in my feelings. “Look…I…we…”
“Had a chance to be friends,” she says curtly. “I’ve got to go. I’ll send you their number.” She hangs up.
“She took it as a date,” Aubrey chimes in.
“Me not going had nothing to do with her.” I droop down onto the couch.
“She’ll calm down, and you can tell her the truth about what happened.”
“It’s really okay. I’m not looking for anything.”
“You may not be looking, but it sounds like to me, it found you.”
“I don’t want any more than what we have between us.” I brush my hand down her face.
She kisses the palm of my hand. “I love you, but I’m not interfering with what the heart wants.” She coughs and stands.
“Can I stay the night? I don’t want to be alone.” It’s a hard admission.
She disappears and comes back with a blanket and a pillow. “You’ll have to stay on the couch.”
I nod, understanding that our friends with benefits part is over. “Thank you, Aubrey, for letting me into your life.”
She walks over to me, and I get up. I hug her to me hard. She’s been my lifeline for the past year. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without her. I meant it when I said I’d marry her if that’s what she wanted. Good thing she’s smarter than I am.
Chapter 6
Aubrey’s daughter, Bridgette, has a softball game today. I sponsor her team, and she’s been begging me to come to a game, and since I’m already in town, I take her up on the offer.
“Thanks for the pancakes.” I smother mine in syrup like I did when I was a kid. “Bridgette’s not eating?”
“Are you kidding me? She’s already scarfed down two plates full. She’s playing video games online with her friends.”
“How are you feeling this morning?” I ask, crunching on a piece of overcooked bacon.
“Better. Good thing because I’ve got some errands to run before the game later. I’m team mom this week, so I’ve got to get snacks and drinks.”
“I can pick them up for you if you’d like.”
“No, that’s okay. I need groceries while I’m at it. Do you want to tag along?”
“I was thinking I’d see if Greg was up for a pickleball game. I have a demo I need to drop off at his office.”
“It’s Saturday. Do you think he’ll be there?”
“He’s always there, you know that.”
“Mmm…lately, he hasn’t been.”
“If not, I’ll swing by his place.”
She laughs.
“What?”
“You’re looking for Reese. Why don’t you just call her?”
“Because she’d likely hang up on me again.”
“If you find her, why don’t you ask her to come watch the softball game with you?”
“I’m not sure that’s her kinda thing.” I pick up my coffee mug.
“I look at it this way. One, you’ll find out if it is. Two, it would be a more relaxed way to spend time with her. Three, she might find it charming and let you get to second base.” She’s grinning at me.
“I’m not the second base kind of guy.” I chuckle.
“No, I’d say you like circling third before sliding into home.” Her laughter fills the room.
“Could you keep that between the two of us? I don’t think that’s something that needs to be shared with Reese.” I join her in laughter.
“She’ll find out soon enough.” She gets up from the table, carrying her plate to the sink. “Today is your day to be brave, Jameson. Go find her. Do you want my advice?” She looks over her shoulder.
“Do I dare say no?” My lips curve into a smile.
She walks back over to me. “Show her the real Jameson, not the one that hides behind the mask because you’re afraid to show you care. That, Jameson, will scare her off.” She bends down and kisses me on the cheek. “Now go, get out of my kitchen and don’t take no for an answer.”
I pick up my plate and carry it to the sink and rinse it off before I put it in the dishwasher. “Thanks, Aubrey. You’ve been a great friend.”
“Yes I have, and you’re welcome, but so have you.”
I dress in a pair of worn blue jeans and a white t-shirt. I only brought comfortable clothes to drive home in because I had no intention of seeing anyone today. Pulling into the underground garage at Monster Music, I see the white Yukon parked next to the elevator. I decide to call her before I go in to see what kind of reaction I’ll get from her.
“I’m not speaking to you,” she snarls into the phone instead of saying hello.
A bad mood, that’s what I’ll call it. “Good morning. From your greeting, I assume you’re still mad at me.”
“Well, you know what they say about assuming,” she says, insinuating that I’m an ass.
She’s going to make it very difficult. “I’d like to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”
“You keep your word on scheduling a time with Blind Shadows. That’s all I need from you. I’m busy, gotta go.” The line goes dead.
I lock the car door as I head to the elevator. The smooth ride takes me to the fifth floor. I know the code to the front door, so I quietly let myself in. The place is empty. I’m not sure which office Greg put her in so I stand in silence listening for any noise. I hear mumbling coming from one of the offices down the hall from Greg’s. I softly pat in the direction and poke my head around the corner.
“Damn man is so infuriating. He wants to make it up to me. You stand a girl up and expect her to come running back. Fat chance of that, Mr. Wilde.” She’s pacing the floor, talking to herself. I step back before she sees me. This could be bad if she knows I overheard her. I soundlessly make my way back to the front door. I open it and let it make a noise as it closes.
“Reese, are you in here?” I call out.
Her head of strawberry-blonde hair peeks out into the hallway. When she sees me, she walks out, promptly putting her hands on her hips. “Mr. Wilde. Didn’t we just speak on the phone?”
I amble toward her. “I called you from the garage downstairs.”
“You failed to mention that. You knew I was here.”
“Yes.” I stop a few feet in front of her in case she decides to punch me. “I stayed in town to go to Aubrey’s daughter's softball game. You know Aubrey.” I shift from foot to foot. “I sponsor her team, and she’s playing at one o’clock today.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and jets one foot out in front of her. “And why does this concern me?”
“I’d like you to go with me.” Smooth, Jameson, smooth.
“People in hell want ice water. That doesn’t mean they’re getting it.”
“I’m sorry about last night. I can’t give you an explanation right now.”
“Can’t or won’t?” She darts into her office.
I follow her. “It’s a nice day out.” I ignore her comment. “The fresh air would do us both some good.”
“I think I’ll…” She hesitates, choosing her words, “pass.”
“Are you afraid to have a little fun?” I arch my eyebrows.
“Fun, I can handle. You…not so much.”
“I can be fun.” I laugh.
She steps up close to me. “Only if you tell me what happened to you last night.” Her eyes search mine for an answer.
I turn toward the glass wall that overlooks the city, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I had a panic attack.” I hate admitting my weakness.
“Right, you. Mr. I’m so cocky and sure of myself.” She snorts, then looks at my face. She sees the truth, and her attitude changes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t. Going into a bar triggers them. I met my wife playing a gig at a local bar in Nashville. She and her two-man band.”
“I…I…” she stammers.
I drag my hand out of my pocket, lifting in the air. “It’s okay. I should’ve been honest with you about it. It’s a demon I haven’t been able to slay yet.”
She turns around and grabs her purse from her desk, throwing the strap over her shoulder. “Let's go to this softball game.”
“You might want to change first.”
She glances down at her short navy skirt and short-sleeve pink blouse. “This will be fine.” She heads toward the exit.
“Have you ever been to a softball game?” I chuckle, in step behind her.
“Mmm…no.”
“We can run by your place if you’d like?”
“I keep a pair of sandals in my car. I’ll grab them and peel out of these pantyhose. It’ll be fine.”
“Suit yourself.” I open the door for her.
I stand at the back of the elevator, and she is shoulder to shoulder with me. I gaze up, and she’s biting the inside of her cheek, causing a dimple to appear. I ignore the fact that it’s sexy as hell. The doors bing open and she presses the button that lifts the trunk of her Yukon.
I casually watch her as she bends over, digging into one of her bags. Her ass is nice. She throws a pair of sandals on the ground and starts shimmying out of her stockings right in front of me. I hold back a groan that’s trying to escape.
She slips into her shoes and closes the trunk. “Ready.” She beams. “Can we ride with the top down?”
She doesn’t sound like the businesswoman now. I’m enjoying her carefree spirit, probably a little too much because I’m hard as a rock. I adjust myself before I climb into the driver's seat and let the top down. I reach over her, accidentally brushing the smoothness of her leg and open the glovebox. “Here, you might want to wear this.” I want to touch her leg again, but toss the hat in her lap.
“I like the logo. Wilde Recording Studio,” she reads it then puts on a navy pair of sunglasses and pulls her hair through the opening in the back of the hat.
“How many pairs of sunglasses do you own?” I say as I back the car out of its spot.
“I have one to match all my outfits.” She gives me a goofy smile.
I put on my aviators and pull out into traffic, and she fiddles with the radio. “Have you gotten settled here yet?”
“I’ve rented a condo on the outskirts of town until I can find a place to purchase.”
“Do you like the city?”
“I love being in the middle of all the action. How about you?”
“Hate it. That’s why my studio isn’t in Los Angeles. I did like Nashville, but this traffic drives me nuts.” I don’t see her in time to stop her from pushing play on the CD player. I swallow hard, driving down my anger. I don’t want to share this with her.
“Oh, who’s that? She’s got an incredible voice. You should totally sign her.”
I reach over and hit the stop button.
“Hey, I wanted to hear her.”
I push the button to make the CD eject and place it in the holder on the visor. “She’s not for sale.”
“With a voice like that…she’d make millions.”
I step on the gas pedal and swerve into another lane.
“Whoa,” she says, grasping onto the door. “Was it something I said?” She looks over at me.
“Not everyone wants to make millions.” I clench my jaw.
“Give me her name. I’ll convince her.”
“Drop it.” I can feel the steam brewing between my ears.
“I don’t understand you. This is the business you’re in.”
“You’re right, you don’t understand. Now please fucking drop it.” I swerve again.
“Stop the car!” she yells.
“What?”
“I said stop the damn car!” She doesn’t look at me.
I maneuver through traffic to the side of the busy freeway. She opens the door before I’m fully stopped and gets out. “What are you doing? Get back in the car.”
She digs her phone out of her purse. “I’m calling a cab to take me home.”
I beat my forehead on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. Please get in the car.”
“Why? Why should I? All we ever do is fight.”
“That’s because you’re one pigheaded woman and can’t let anything go.”
She raises the phone in the air and presses a button. “Not helping.”
“Okay, okay.” I throw my hands in the air. “Get in the car, and I’ll tell you.”
“I’ll get in the car after you tell me.”
“Get in the car!” I grit out.
She concedes, slamming the door.
My knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel. “The woman on the CD was my wife.”
Her mouth gapes. “Why didn’t you just tell me that, Jameson?”
I flip on my blinker and weave back into traffic. I bite my tongue to hold back the tears I feel building. Her warm hand reaches over and touches my arm.
“Why don’t you want to talk about her? She was a part of your life.”
“She was, and a part I’d like to keep private.” The muscle in my jaw twitches.
She drops her hand, remaining quiet for the rest of the drive. I park in the paved lot outside the ball fields. I see Aubrey sitting in the bleachers behind the dugout. She waves when she sees us.
“Hey. Bridgette is so excited. She’s told all of her friends that you’re going to be here today.” We take the seats next to her.
“I’m glad it worked out.”
“Hi, Ms. Adams.” Aubrey leans around me.
“Reese, please. And don’t call me that at work either.” She smiles.
Aubrey elbows me in the side.
“Oh my god. Is that cotton candy?” Reese has her sunglasses slid down her nose, eyeing a young guy walking around selling popcorn and cotton candy.
“Would you like some?” I start fishing out my wallet. She’s literally bouncing in place, clapping her hands like a little girl. I find her excitement over the stringy mess adorable. The businesswoman is totally gone.
I lift my hand when I see Bridgette waving back at me from the field, and then I pretend to not observe Reese eat her pink treat. She takes a bite and licks her lips as the sugary mess sticks to them. Then her tongue dashes out and smacks at each finger. I can’t watch. I’ll be hard as hell.
The game begins, and I laugh when Reese starts cheering very loudly. “Whoop whoop! Go team!” She’s really gotten into the game.
Aubrey leans over and whispers, “I like this side of her.”
Reese sees how easily Aubrey and I converse and I can tell it bothers her. I reach over and grab her hand and squeeze it. I don’t know what provoked me to do it, other than I wanted to touch her. I’m surprised when she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she snuggles in closer to me.
When the game is over, Bridgette runs over and hugs my neck. “Thank you for being here to watch me play.”
I ruffle her hair. “You did great out there.”
“Mom, can we all go to the grill?”
“Do you guys want to go?” Aubrey turns toward us.
I glance over at Reese. “Sure, I’d love to.”
Aubrey takes my phone and plugs the restaurant location in. “We’ll meet you there.”
As soon as we’re in the car, Reese starts with the million questions. “You two seem close. I mean her daughter adores you.”
They aren’t really questions, but I know what’s behind them. “Aubrey’s raised her on he
r own and done a good job.”
She folds her hands in her lap. “Are you two dating?”
“No.” That’s an honest answer. Dated no, fucked yes. “We’re just good friends.”
“How good of friends?” Her brows draw together.
“Aubrey helped me get through a really hard time in my life after my wife died.”
“Are you in love with her?”
“No. I love her, but not like you think.”
That seems to appease her. “What was your wife’s name?”
I think she’s pushing to see how much I’ll tell her. “Lyla.”
“Will you play her CD?”
I take it down and put it in, hitting the start button. I’m instantly drawn in like I always am. I can’t form another word. I just drive, focusing on getting to the grill.
“Thank you,” she says when I park the car.
I look down, chewing on my lip. “I still miss her.” It’s an admission I didn’t intend to say out loud.
“You’re allowed to miss her. You obviously loved her very deeply.”
I nod. We go inside, and there are kids playing in the arcade and families piled in around tables that are too small for them. I spot Aubrey near the back. I remain quiet through the meal as the girls get to know one another, chatting about anything from the latest pop artist to the color of their toenails. It’s normal, I think. I found myself relaxing and enjoying being around them.
“Thanks again,” Aubrey says, rounding up her daughter and getting her into her car. When Reese isn’t looking, she gives me a thumbs-up and tells me to call her later.
“I like her,” Reese says as she adjusts her seat.
“She’s good people.”
“Back to the office?” I ask as I shift the car into reverse.
“Nah. Take me to my condo. I’ll get my car later.”
“You’re the navigator.”
“Oh, can I drive this baby?”
“No.”
“Why not?” She pouts.
I shake my head and pull over, jumping out to trade places with her. “If you hurt my car, I’ll have to kill you.” I plaster on a big, fake smile.
She playfully swats me in the stomach. “I’m a good driver.” She squeals the tires and drives it like she stole it. I can’t be mad at her. The look on her face is priceless. She’s loving the feel of the car. Whipping in and out of traffic, we get to her place in no time. It’s on a hill, that has a row of two-story condos connected together. Hers is the end unit.