by Leigh Landry
Walking Millie while Lauren ate donuts seemed like such a small thing, but he was glad it was a small thing he could do to help her.
Walking back inside that house and spending the morning in Brandy’s room with Lauren, however, was going to be a not-so-small thing he was becoming convinced might break him.
* * * * *
Lauren leaned her back against the door and exhaled, trying to contain the fluttering excitement in her chest. Spending the day with Tyler might be a catastrophically bad idea, but if he was going to keep showing up with food and that gorgeous smile, she couldn’t be expected turn down him or his sweet treats.
She was walking toward her sister’s room with the remaining half of a yeasty glazed donut when Tyler returned with Millie. She covered her mouth with one hand and waved awkwardly with the other.
Tyler didn’t say anything. He walked past her, grabbed a boudin kolache, and shoved half of it into his own mouth. Through the jumble of dough, rice, and spicy meat, he mumbled, “I had to catch up.”
She laughed and tried not to stare while he slipped off his Army Strong hoodie. Underneath that, he wore a worn-in dark blue Star Wars T-shirt and an old pair of loose-fitting jeans, a walking personification of the word comfortable. She wanted to wrap him around her like a warm, cozy blanket.
To keep from doing that, she walked straight toward Brandy’s room with Tyler and Millie behind her. After she washed the donut down with the rest of her cold coffee, Lauren said, “There’s still half a pot in the kitchen if you want some.”
“Maybe later,” he said. “We should probably get started.” He’d shifted gears into get-shit-done mode. Ever the soldier.
Damn. No more stalling.
“Right.”
Tyler walked to the bed and gently grazed his fingers along the fiddle case. “You were playing?”
“Um, yeah.” She closed the case and moved it by the pillows so they could have space on the bed to stack Brandy’s clothes. “I had a sort of audition tonight.”
“Oh, cool. For what?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m canceling.”
“Don’t do that. I’m sure we can make a dent in this for you to have plenty of time to make that audition. What time is it?”
“It’s not that.” She looked away, but her eyes fell on the framed photo sitting on Brandy’s dresser. Her family’s band stared back at her. Her mom smiling with a guitar in her lap. Brandy, pretty as ever, smiling with her new pixie haircut, front and center on the bench. Their cousins standing behind her. And Lauren, the awkward, duller version of her sister, off to the side. Second fiddle.
“I’m not prepared,” she said. “It’s been too long.”
She turned from the photo and walked to Brandy’s closet. She didn’t need to see Tyler’s reaction. His disappointment. Tyler didn’t cancel things, and he certainly didn’t back out of things he didn’t think he could do.
“Well, look.” He walked up behind her and put his hands on the sides of her arms. “We’ll do the closet this morning. Or at least the clothes. Then you can practice this afternoon, and we’ll finish the rest tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “I could practice for an entire month and still not have any business going to this.”
He rubbed her arms. It was soothing and unnerving at the same time.
“You still didn’t tell me what the audition’s for,” he said.
Warmth radiated from him, and Lauren fought the urge to lean back against his chest.
“I was supposed to sit in on a rehearsal with Les Cinq Couillons. They’re a—”
“I know who they are.” Excitement rang out in his voice as he gently spun her around to face him. “Are you kidding me? Of course you have to go!”
“It’s just temporary anyway.”
“So? It’s still great!” His brow furrowed at her. “Why would you cancel? This doesn’t make sense.”
Of course it didn’t make sense to him. Tyler fit in just about everywhere he went. He was nice, polite, strong, gorgeous, thoughtful … everything people wanted to be around.
“I just don’t belong there.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what I said. I don’t belong there any more than I belong anywhere else—school, my apartment, this family…”
Lauren wiped at her face. She was crying now in addition to babbling.
She knew what it was like to feel out of place, to feel like everyone else was prettier, smarter, more talented, more…everything. She’d played second fiddle to her sister, her roommate, and pretty much everyone else in her life. This group, with their albums and awards and fans, certainly wouldn’t be any different. At best she’d be out of place. At worst? She’d bring them down.
While she held her breath, she waited for him to run off again.
But Tyler didn’t run. He only looked down at her with sad but patient eyes. “I think there’s a lot more going on than what you’re telling me. It’s probably none of my business, but I have one question.”
She sniffled. “Oh yeah? What?”
“How do you know you don’t belong in that band if you don’t at least show up to find out?”
Lauren opened her mouth and closed it again. Twice. She couldn’t think of an easy way to explain how she felt without blabbing even more personal details.
“It’s not that simple,” she said.
“Why not?”
“It just isn’t.”
“Sure it is.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes at him. “We could do this all day. Still doesn’t make it true.”
“No, we couldn’t do this all day, because we have clothes to pack for charity, and you have to practice.” He smiled at her.
If she knew anything, it was that Tyler wasn’t going to back down from this. Once he got his mind on something, there was no stopping him.
“Fine. If you get the trash bags from the kitchen and help me finish these clothes before lunch, I’ll promise to at least learn the next song on my list.”
“And go to the rehearsal?”
“We’ll see.”
He beamed with smug pride. “I guess I’ll have to take what I can get. For now.”
“For now.”
The space between them was closing, and Lauren wasn’t sure which of them was inching forward.
“Deal, then,” he said.
She smiled up at him and they locked eyes. The laughter in his brown eyes turned serious as his pupils widened, and she swore she felt the heat instantly crank on between them.
But there was also a nervous energy in the air.
He was going to run again. Probably. If she didn’t first.
There was something more between them than adjacent childhood history and shared grief. And the way he was looking at her now, she knew she wasn’t the only one who felt it.
This time, though, neither of them ran away from it.
He slipped his hands behind her head and bent toward her. His lips were as soft as his kiss, and she felt like she might melt at his feet if he weren’t anchoring her head with his hands.
Lauren slid her fingers around his waist, curling them around his back over that ultra-soft T-shirt she’d been dying to rub against since she saw him in the doorway. It was as soft as she’d imagined. Softer than his kiss, which was setting off a heat wave seeping into every corner of her body.
But that kiss drowned her with confusion as much as desire.
He removed his lips from hers, keeping her face held in his palms. He smiled at her, then kissed her forehead.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “You ran off last night.”
He gave her a sly smile, and she wanted to devour him. “Don’t you have an audition to go to?”
“Not for another several hours,” she said. “Talk.”
“You need your head in the game. Pretend this never happened.”
Yeah, right. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
; She narrowed her eyes and punched him playfully in the arm. “You’re the worst.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled, and her heart fluttered. “Can we at least get this job done? I promise you can call me tonight and we’ll talk all you want about whatever you want. For now, I don’t want to be a distraction.”
“You’re not a distraction.”
She desperately wanted him to be a distraction. And he was denying her that. Again.
But maybe he had a point. She wanted nothing more than to roll around in Tyler’s distractions all day, but that wasn’t going to get this room cleared, and it wasn’t going learn her music for her.
She crossed her arms and pouted at him. “Admit it, you’re just afraid Brandy’s going to haunt you for making out with her sister in her closet.”
He flinched, and Lauren bit her lip, instantly regretting going too far with her joke. She dealt with grief and trauma through humor. Always had. She and Brandy joked their way through the deaths of beloved pets and grandparents. Sometimes she forgot not everyone coped the same way.
But Tyler must have been used to this kind of joking from her sister, and the shock of the joke passed.
“If she’s haunting anyone,” he said, “it’s the people living in this house, not me. So watch out.”
He put her at ease with a small smile that made her want to stay in that closet and kiss him all day long. Brandy’s ghost be damned.
Chapter 6
By lunch-time, Tyler and Lauren had bagged every single piece of Brandy’s clothing. He was glad they got through it all so quickly, because he knew it would give her more time to practice. Selfishly, though, he wished it could have taken a little longer.
He really enjoyed hanging out with her, despite the shitty reason they were together at the moment. And he enjoyed teasing her to stay on task. She was as easily distracted as he remembered, and part of him wanted to follow her down every little detour her brain came up with. But five years in the army had trained him to stay focused until their goal was finished.
“Well, I guess that’s it.” He put the last bag in the back of his truck and looked at Lauren staring up shyly at him. He wanted to kiss her, but a kiss goodbye felt weirdly intimate.
Should he wave? Shake her hand? Take her back inside and stick around this time until they were both naked and…
Nope.
He took her hand and lifted it. While holding her gaze, he kissed her open palm. He held his lips against her cold skin, then wrapped both of his hands around hers to warm them. “Good luck with your rehearsal.”
He wished like hell he could read her mind, because he could see a million thoughts racing behind her eyes.
“Thanks.”
“Call me when you’re done? Tell me the good news?”
“I can call you with the news. I can’t promise it’ll be good.”
He kissed her hand again, his whole body springing alive again with a deep, aching need for her, then released it. “I’m sure it will.”
He walked around to the driver’s side and waved to Lauren as he backed out of the driveway. His own brain ran a million miles an hour while he drove toward the charity drop-off.
He hoped she’d call him. Tyler had no doubt she’d do well in her audition, so he wasn’t worried about that. It was more that he had so much left he wanted to tell her.
Helping her clear out Brandy’s things had been exactly what he needed. It was hard. And sad. But it was also nice to talk about Brandy. To laugh about shared memories with someone. To let it sink in with every piece of clothing they folded that Brandy wasn’t ever going to wear those things again. That she was really gone. And Lauren was the one person in his life who understood how much that fucking sucked.
Getting that closure did more than help him grieve and move on though. It also made room for something else. Something Tyler had been pushing aside and ignoring for years.
Something he couldn’t wait to finally confess.
* * * * *
Robin’s Acadian-style house sat way back off the road at the end of a long gravel driveway in Arnaudville, about thirty minutes north of Lafayette. The property looked like it was over an acre, if not two, and was surrounded by fields and woods on three sides.
It might be one hell of a commute to Robin’s store every day, but it was quiet and lovely and there were no neighbors to disturb. It was the perfect place for a band to rehearse.
Robin had texted her address to Lauren that afternoon, along with an apology. Apparently they had sheet music for some of their songs, but she couldn’t find the copies of Camille’s parts. Lauren thanked her for checking and said it was fine.
But things weren’t fine.
She’d barely managed to resist jumping Tyler and taking him back to her room before he left. Barely.
That kiss had ignited all kinds of fires in her, and she couldn’t wait to find another opportunity to kiss him again. Starting with calling him right after she got out of here.
But she had to get through this audition first.
Lauren got out of her car and walked past a little blonde girl swinging on a disk suspended from a huge live oak branch. The girl smiled and Lauren waved, realizing she didn’t know who this child belonged to or anything, really, about the other band members she was about to meet.
She climbed the porch steps and knocked on the front door, then wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, reminding herself that she could do this. She’d been a little shaky still on her last run-throughs of the songs that afternoon, but that would have to be good enough for having only a day’s notice to prepare.
A few seconds later, the door swung open, and a stern woman a few years older than Lauren stood in the entryway. She had long, wavy blonde hair, jeans, a blue plaid shirt tied at her waist over a white tank top, and vicious green eyes aimed right at Lauren.
“So you’re the girl Robin dragged into this?”
Lauren felt herself shrink under the woman’s gaze. She threw her shoulders back, gathering as much mock confidence as she could, and said, “Hi. Yeah, I’m Lauren.”
The woman frowned. “How old are you anyway? You know we play bars, right?”
“Twenty-five.”
With a grunt, the woman said, “Don’t look it.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Nat, let her in at least before you grill her.” A pale woman with a purple streak through her raven-black hair yanked the first woman out of the way and pulled Lauren inside. “I’m Kelsey.” She nodded to her side. “That’s Natalie. Don’t mind her.”
She didn’t offer any reason or apology for the other woman’s rudeness. Just don’t mind her. Lauren warmed at the idea of that kind of acceptance. Like this woman knew her friend’s shitty faults and accepted her anyway. They probably all did.
“I’m Lauren.”
“Yeah, Robin told us. Glad to have you.” Kelsey gave a warm smile, as welcoming and sugary as cane syrup. A stark contrast to the bleeding skull on her black T-shirt and the sharp, angular tattoos poking out beneath her sleeves.
“You’re the …”
“Drummer,” Kelsey finished. “We’re just waiting on our bass, but we should be ready in a second.”
The other woman, Natalie, huffed. “Don’t know why we’re even bothering,” she said before walking away.
Kelsey gave a sympathetic shrug.
“Is that your daughter outside?” Lauren asked.
Kelsey shook her head. “Nat’s. Adorable little bug, isn’t she?”
Lauren nodded in agreement. Kelsey led her to the kitchen where Robin was chopping fruit. She was wearing one of the band’s T-shirts today, instead of the store ones Lauren normally saw her in. The second Robin saw her, she dropped her knife and walked around the island to engulf Lauren in a hug.
“Hey, Sugar Bee!”
Lauren returned the embrace, then smiled awkwardly. She might have forced herself to show up to this, but she was only faking her way through these introductions. Just like she was going
to be faking her way through the music if she went through with the whole thing.
“Thanks for the invite.”
“Sure, sure.” Robin gestured at the bar counter. “Cheese? Fruit?”
Lauren shook her head and gave a polite, “No, thank you.” She’d eaten a few crackers before leaving home, but her stomach couldn’t handle anything else.
Robin shrugged and popped a white rectangle of cheese into her mouth. “Don’t thank me. Really, you’re bailing our asses out here.”
Lauren swore she could hear a grunt, but Natalie was nowhere in sight.
Natalie wasn’t the only one with doubts.
“So, I was hoping I could talk to you a little first.”
Robin ate a piece of cantaloupe and tilted her head at Lauren. “Sure. What’s up?”
A very loud, festive doorbell rang out through the house.
“Oh, that must be Eric. I’ll get it.” Kelsey hopped off her barstool and practically skipped to the door.
Robin frowned at her back.
Lauren couldn’t resist. She lowered her voice and whispered, “Are he and Kelsey a thing? She seemed awfully excited.”
Robin shook her head. “Not this month. Not as far as I know.” She grabbed another piece of cheese and chewed nervously. “And after last time, I hope to hell not ever again.”
Lauren grimaced at the sound of whatever history Robin was hinting at.
Robin walked to the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer. She popped the tops off both and handed one to Lauren. “I’m sorry, you wanted to talk about something?”
Lauren cleared her throat and took a sip. She’d rehearsed this whole conversation in the car, and now she couldn’t even remember how to start it.
Start at the beginning, doofus.
Sheesh, now Brandy was in her head even when she wasn’t at home.
She’d have to worry about traveling pseudo-hauntings later, though. Now she had to focus. She couldn’t bullshit her way through this.
“Well, I have to be completely honest.”
Robin furrowed her brow in concern. “Okay…”
“It’s just that…well…I might not have as much recent experience as you think.”