When the Storm Breaks (Lost Stars)

by Emery Rose

  Kate used to take me to counseling every week, and every week it was the same. I kept my mouth shut and refused to speak about anything that had happened to me in the first ten years of my life. I still didn’t talk about those things. There were only three people I’d ever told—Jude, Lila, and Walt. I had no recollection of telling Lila. It was the night Noah had been conceived and we’d been falling-down drunk. And of those three, only Walt knew the whole story.

  His idea of therapy? A vision quest in the desert. And shit, that peyote had messed with my head for four of the weirdest, most fucked-up days of my life. But it had worked. I’d made my peace with all the shit that had happened and, for the most part, I let it go.

  I opened the back door for Noah and he jumped out and took off running. Always in such a hurry to get to the next thing. He was right at home here and Kate spoiled him rotten.

  “Hey Shy,” I said as we crossed the front lawn, the bags clutched in her hand.

  “Yeah?” She sounded distracted.

  “I don’t think the Petersons have any idea who you are.”

  She gave me a small smile. “I don’t think they do either.”

  “People have a bad habit of being overly friendly in these parts. It’s that damn Southern hospitality.”

  She laughed and bumped her shoulder against mine. “And how come you don’t extend that same hospitality?”

  When we reached the front porch, I pulled her into my arms. “Thought I was downright hospitable last night.”

  “Hmm...” She looped her arms around my neck and looked up at me. “I still think there’s room for improvement.”

  I squeezed her ass. “Is that a challenge?”

  “You need to up your game, Cowboy.”

  I pulled her closer and crushed my mouth against hers. “Takes two to play this game, Sugar Lips.”

  “Funny. Last night didn’t feel like a game.”

  “Pretend I’m not here,” came a voice through the front screen door. I released Shiloh and took a few steps back as Lila stepped onto the porch, a sly smile on her face. “Sorry to interrupt. I left Levi’s favorite blanket in the car.”

  I groaned. “You’re not starting that again. It took five years for Noah to give up that duckie blanket.”

  Shiloh burst out laughing and Lila joined her.

  “Say it again,” Shiloh prompted.

  I shook my head.

  “But it’s so cute when you say duckie,” Lila teased. I held up my middle finger. It only made them laugh harder. “Watch this,” Lila told Shiloh, giving her an exaggerated wink.

  Ever the subtle one, Lila lunged at me, her hands headed straight for my ribs. Oh hell no. I spun out of her reach and slammed the screen door in her face.

  “Come back, duckie,” Shiloh called.

  The girls were still laughing on the porch as I headed toward the kitchen. Now Shiloh would know I was ticklish.

  And I never got to ask her what last night had felt like to her, but it was for the best. It had felt like something real and good and true. But that wasn’t our deal. Four more weeks. No strings attached. When it was over, we’d go our separate ways.

  End of story.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Shiloh

  I wasn’t going to do it anymore. I was done.

  I wasn’t going to keep stalking Hayley or try to ingratiate myself into the Petersons’ lives in the hopes of easing my troubled conscience. It would only create more problems. I’d have to keep spinning lies and fabricating stories and before I knew it, I’d get so tangled up in my web of lies I wouldn’t be able to get out of it. So I’d made up my mind I was going to leave well enough alone.

  I’d already seen Hayley. We’d spoken at the farm stand yesterday. She was cute and fun and adorable. She loved dancing and gymnastics and singing. Hayley had Dean’s smile and his hazel eyes and my nose, but she was her own little person, separate from us, and that was how it should be. She had a mom and a dad who loved her, and a dog called Olaf named after the snowman in Frozen. I’d learned all of this in our brief conversation yesterday. She’d worn a black T-shirt with a purple sequined unicorn on it because she loved unicorns and had paired it with a rainbow skirt because she loved rainbows too.

  Meredith told me Hayley sang all the time, mostly songs from Disney movies. “Let It Go” was her favorite song. I recognized the irony and took it as a sign. That’s exactly what I needed to do. Let. It. Go.

  “How do I look?” I asked Brody, striking a pose when I answered the door.

  “You look like you’re ready to ride a cowboy.”

  “Well, howdy pardner.” I tipped my black cowboy hat at him. The hat had been Lila’s idea of going incognito and when I told her how cool it was, she told me Brody had given it to her for her twenty-first birthday which she claimed was a million years ago. I was wearing the hat with the plaid flannel I’d borrowed from Brody, my only two clothing items stolen or borrowed. It hit mid-thigh, fit me like a mini dress and still smelled like Brody’s cedar shower gel. “I hear you do a mean two-step.”

  He scowled. “Who told you that?”

  “Lila.”

  “How does she know... second thought, never mind. I only do the two-step when I’m drunk.”

  I scrolled through my phone and hit play on a country song. I made the playlist for this specific purpose. He groaned. “What are you doing?”

  “Pretend you’re drunk and show me how it’s done, Cowboy. Or better yet, maybe I should get you liquored up.” I grabbed a bottle of his favorite bourbon from the kitchen and poured what I estimated to be the equivalent of two shots in tumbler glasses. Thanks to Lila, who I’d spent the day with, I knew quite a few more things about Brody now. I picked up my glass and handed one to him. “Drink up or I’ll tickle you to death.”

  He scrubbed his hand over his face and shook his head then studied the contents in the glass before his gaze settled on the bottle on the counter. “You bought the bourbon I drink?”

  He sounded surprised, like he couldn’t believe anyone would do something like that for him. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my main squeeze for a month.” I gave him a wink, attempting to keep the mood light. He huffed out a laugh and raked his hand through his hair, not sure what to make of me.

  We downed our shots and I poured two more. After we finished our second generous shot, he put his hand over the glass to indicate he’d had enough. “You really wanna dance?”

  I nodded. “I really do. Just show me how it's done.”

  “I’ll lead. You follow. It’s that simple.”

  “Nothing about you is simple, Brody.”

  “Right back at you. But we don’t have to make this complicated.”

  He wasn’t talking about the Texas two-step, so I nodded, acknowledging I’d heard him and understood what he was saying. “I just want to have some fun while I’m here. So how about you show a Louisiana girl a good time, Texas-style?”

  “Well, I happen to be pretty damn good at showing a girl a good time.”

  I didn’t doubt that for a minute. He led, and I followed and we two-stepped right out the back door and onto the porch. When the third song ended, he dipped me so low to the ground, my hair touched the floorboards. His lips met mine briefly before he pulled away, his face so close to mine, shadowed in the moonlight. “That’s how you two-step, darlin’.”

  I was laughing when he pulled me up off the floor and back into his arms.

  Five minutes later, I was straddling him on the Adirondack chair, his jeans unbuttoned, boxer briefs shoved down by my hands to free him from the confines of denim and cotton. His hands spanned my waist and I lifted up and wrapped my hand around him, guiding him to my entrance. I dragged the tip through my slick folds as his hands cupped and kneaded my breasts, his mouth latching onto the right one and his tongue and teeth sucking and biting.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, I sank down on him until he was buried to the hilt. I kissed my cowboy while I rode him hard, his fingers digging into th
e soft skin as his hands gripped my hips and I held onto the back of the chair.

  Now, that’s how you show a girl a good time.

  The next afternoon I was sitting on the back porch, working on my new music when Ridge appeared in my peripheral. He was wearing basketball shorts again but this time he wasn’t shirtless. The sleeves of his Chicago Bulls T-shirt had been cut off and there was a rip in the collar. Unlike Brody, he didn’t have a Texan drawl or even a Southern accent which made me wonder if he grew up in Chicago. If so, ending up here must have been a culture shock for him.

  Ridge was young, only seventeen, but he already had all the makings of a heartbreaker. Beautiful. Cocky. Trouble with a capital T. Exactly the kind of guy I would have fallen for as a teen. I don’t know exactly what it was but something about him reminded me of Dean.

  I just hoped he’d stay away from drugs and out of the kind of trouble Dean had always found himself in. As a teen, anytime property was vandalized or there’d been a robbery, the cops in our town had always questioned Dean. It didn’t matter if he’d been nowhere near the scene of the crime, they wanted to pin it on him. The Bouchon family had a reputation in our town and nothing said about them was ever good.

  He stopped at the bottom of my porch steps and I looked up from my guitar and smiled.

  “Hey Ridge. What’s up?”

  He chewed on his full bottom lip, not looking as confident or as cocky as he had when I’d first met him. It was that damn vulnerability that had always gotten me about Dean too. And why the hell was I thinking about Dean? Probably because today was his twenty-eighth birthday and he was spending it in rehab. Not the fancy, spa-like rehab either. More like a prison.

  “I was wondering ... if you’re not busy sometime... do you think you could teach me a few chords?” He shrugged one shoulder like it was no big deal and my answer wouldn’t matter to him one way or another. But I could tell it had taken a lot for him to come over here and ask me for a favor.

  “I’m free right now. Is this a good time for you?”

  His face broke into a smile and there was nothing cocky about it. It was bright, and it was genuine, and God help the girls if he ever bestowed that smile on them. They wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Yeah. Works for me.”

  “Cool. Then come on up and let’s get started.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brody

  “If Ridge is bothering you, just say the word and I’ll tell him to stop hanging around.” Which was what he’d been doing every day after school for the past week. Now it was Friday evening and I’d been invited to dinner but so had Ridge. He was in the shower when I left him at the house to come over here.

  “He’s not bothering me at all. I love hanging out with him. He’s picking up the guitar really fast too. You might have a budding rock star on your hands.”

  Just what I needed. Ridge already thought he was a rock star. “You didn’t have to invite him to dinner.”

  She smacked my arm with the wooden spoon in her hand. The same spoon she was using to stir her ‘world-famous gumbo.’ “He’s your brother. I didn’t want him to have to eat alone. Besides, I made enough for an army.”

  “You obviously haven’t seen how much Ridge eats.”

  “I’ve seen you eat. That’s why I made enough for an army.” She turned down the heat under the pot and left it to simmer then turned to face me. I handed her the cold beer I’d opened for her and she took it from my hand with a smile. “Thanks, baby.”

  I was baby now. Okay. Not that I minded. Coming from those lush lips, I’d answer to just about anything. “After dinner, he’s out of here.”

  “Not only are you a bad loser, you don’t like sharing either?” she teased.

  It hit a nerve, but I took a long pull of my beer to hide the expression on my face. I’d been sharing all my goddamn life and no, I didn’t like it. I fucking hated it.

  “Hey. I was just joking. I’m all yours. For three and a half more weeks.”

  She was always keeping a countdown, reminding me of how much time we had together. Didn’t like that too much either. I pulled her against me and gave her a light smack on the ass. “And don’t you forget it, baby.” She laughed and I shut her up with a kiss that verged on becoming something more. “Let’s go upstairs before—”

  “Hey bro. Whassup?” With a loud sigh, I released Shiloh and she bit her lip to keep from laughing. I turned around to face my brother who had just walked in like he owned the damn place. His eyes lowered to my crotch. “Forget I asked. I can see what’s up. What’s for dinner?” He ran his hand over his washboard abs which were on display because somehow, not accidentally either, his shirt had conveniently ridden up. “I’m starving.”

  “You sound just like Brody.”

  “I’m better looking though.” He winked at her. Fucking winked at her.

  I exhaled loudly. Shiloh laughed like this whole thing was hilarious. I’d love to know what these two got up to during these ‘guitar lessons.’ Second though, I’d rather not know.

  Since there were three of us instead of a cozy two, we ate at the table. And just when I thought Ridge couldn’t possibly find another way to get under my skin, he did. “What time do you want to head out tomorrow?” he asked Shiloh.

  My head swiveled in her direction. The fuck? “Where exactly are you headed?”

  “I told Ridge I’d take him to buy a guitar.”

  “And I’m going to grab her those tacos she loves so she can stay in the truck and not be mobbed by any fans.”

  “Win win.” They high fived like they were best buddies.

  “Hold up.” I held both hands up. “First of all, what the fuck are you talking about? Guitars cost money, Ridge.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve got some money saved up from my birthday.”

  His birthday was in February and everyone in the family had given him cash. I would have thought he’d have already blown it by now.

  He took another bite of his food and grinned. “Good gumbo, Shy.”

  “Thanks Ridge.”

  “That’s not enough money to buy a guitar.”

  “I’m more than happy to chip in,” Shiloh said.

  “You sure as hell are not going to chip in.”

  “Brody.” Shiloh gave me a look I couldn’t read. What the fuck was she trying to tell me?

  “I’m not looking for handouts,” Ridge said, his jaw clenched. “I’ve got the money for a decent guitar, maybe a used one. But you know what? Just forget it. Thanks for dinner, Shiloh.”

  He pushed back his chair, stood up from the table and strode to the door.

  “Ridge, you don’t have to go,” Shiloh called after him.

  “Nah, yeah, it’s all good. And don’t worry about the guitar. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Meet me here at ten tomorrow morning. We’re doing this. I’m not taking no for an answer, so you’d better be here, or I’ll come find you.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m positive. Tomorrow we’re going to buy you a guitar.”

  He glanced at me then at Shiloh and nodded. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”

  After he was gone, I sat back in my seat and looked over at Shiloh. Her eyes narrowed on me. I crossed my arms over my chest. “What?”

  “He’s found something he’s excited about and you shot him down.” She gathered up our plates and stomped into the kitchen. The dishes clattered in the sink and she turned to face me, her arms folded over her chest. “You said you wanted to find a way to get through to him. Well, maybe this is it. Music. And he’s looking forward to being on the football team this year too.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck. “He told you that?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, he did. He told me a lot of things.”

  “Like what?”

  She shook her head. “He told me things in confidence. I’m not going to betray his trust in me.”

  “How did you do it? You’ve known him for a hot minute and suddenly he’s
opening up and telling you shit he never tells me.” And I knew why he was hanging out with her. He had a massive crush on her. No doubt she hadn’t even noticed but I had.

  Shiloh gave me a little smile and came up behind me, wrapping her arms around me and resting her chin on my shoulder. “Because you’re guys and guys are stupid sometimes. It’s easier for him to talk to me. I’m not the one he looks up to. I’m not the one he doesn’t want to disappoint.”

  I slid my wallet out of my back pocket and took out all the cash I’d gotten out to pay Chris tomorrow. I set three hundred bucks on the table. “Put that toward it. I don’t want you to chip in. You’re doing more than enough for him without giving him money too.”

  Shiloh smiled and kissed the side of my neck. “Okay.”

  I took her hand and pulled her into my lap. “Promise me you won’t chip in.”

  “I promise.”

  Satisfied she was telling the truth, I nodded. She stood up and put her hands on my shoulders then straddled me on the kitchen chair, grabbed the back of my head and kissed me hard. “You’re a good man, Brody.”

  “Not so sure about that. I’m fucking everything up with Ridge.”

  “No, you’re not. If you were fucking it up, he’d be gone by now.”

  “He has nowhere else to go.”

  “That wouldn’t stop him from leaving.”

  And I knew she was right. If Ridge hated it here and hated living with me, he would have been long gone, consequences be damned. At his age, I never would have stayed in a place I didn’t want to be.

  “He loves you and down deep he knows you only want the best for him.”

  I hoped that was true, but I didn’t know if it was wishful thinking on her part or if he’d confided that in her. Pretty sure she was trying to make me feel better. “I think we’ve talked about Ridge enough for one night.”