Lyrics on the Wind (Lost Kings MC Book 17)

by Autumn Jones Lake

  I force a smile and a bit of a laugh. “I’m surprised you’re gettin’ on a plane at all.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Don’t remind me. I was so worried about you on the way here, I didn’t have time to fret about it.”

  “You’ll be okay.”

  “God bless Rooster for organizing everything for me.”

  “Wait, what?”

  Pink spreads over her cheeks. “He’s certainly a man of action. Had all the arrangements made before he called me.” She drops her gaze. “I don’t know how I’m gonna repay him. I’m sure that last-minute ticket cost a bunch.”

  “Wait. He did that?”

  “Yes. How else do you think I was able to get here?”

  Jeez, and she still had the nerve to give me grief.

  As if she read my thoughts, she says, “I do like Rooster, honey. If you were more…settled in this new phase of your life, maybe I wouldn’t worry so much.”

  I snort. “At least I know he’s not after me for my money.”

  She bites her lip. “Eventually, you might be making a lot more, honey.”

  “Big might. I might also be waitressing again.”

  “You need to believe in yourself.”

  “I do.”

  “Afternoon, ladies.” Rooster’s warm greeting lights a fire in me.

  Before I even know what I’m doing, I jump out of my chair, knocking it backwards. I slip my arms around him, dragging him down for a long hello kiss. “I missed you,” I whisper against his lips.

  “Missed you too.” He presses a quicker kiss to my lips. “I’ll go away more often if you always greet me that way.”

  Next to us, Jigsaw clears his throat—loudly. “Do you need a refill, Lynn?” he asks my mother.

  While they chat, Rooster leans down, touching his forehead to mine. “How was rehearsal?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  His mouth turns down but he rights my chair, and holds it out for me to sit, then drags a chair over for himself.

  “She’ll get there,” my momma says. “Just listening to them play was good for her.”

  Rooster nods but the tight line of his mouth seems to say he disagrees.

  “Greg says there are a lot of interview offers and other stuff he needs to discuss with me,” I say to take the attention away from rehearsal.

  His eyebrows shoot up. “Good.”

  “I didn’t tell him about the PR woman, because I wasn’t sure…” my voice trails off.

  “That’s fine.”

  “One of the interview offers was from People,” my mother says.

  “Really?” That’s news to me.

  Momma’s eyes glitter with excitement. People has been one of her favorite rags for as long as I can remember. She takes a long dramatic pause, her gaze pinging between us to make sure she has our full attention. “They want an exclusive and they’re willing to pay.”

  “An exclusive with me? I thought they only paid for celebrity babies and super-secret superstar weddings.”

  She straightens her spine, looking like a proud momma kangaroo. “Talk it over with Greg but I think you should consider it. Wouldn’t that be something? Your face at every checkout counter back home?”

  “Oh. Yay.” I lift my fist in the air with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. Momma rolls her eyes at me and sips her coffee.

  Rooster’s phone chimes, and he quickly shuts it off. “Ready to head to the airport, Lynn?”

  “Oh, thank the Lord you were paying attention.” She glances at her phone. “I totally forgot what time it was.”

  “I’ll ride with you,” Jigsaw says casually.

  Rooster side-eyes him. “You hate being in the truck.”

  “But I love your big, ugly face,” Jiggy says, while slapping Rooster’s cheeks and making kissy lips at him.

  “Jensen, will you help me grab my bags from the front desk?” my mother asks, ignoring their display of brotherly affection.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Rooster shakes his head as they walk off together. “He promised he’d behave.”

  “My momma can handle him. Don’t worry.”

  He glances down at me. “I’d rather not end up with him as my step-father-in-law one day.”

  I snort at the absurdity of that idea. “I’m like ninety-nine percent certain she has no plans to remarry. Ever. And I don’t feel like Jiggy’s a big proponent of marriage either.”

  The implications of what he actually said don’t hit me until later.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Rooster

  At least Lynn’s departure is more pleasant than her arrival. No more complaints about me—or at least none that I overhear.

  “I made sure I talked you up every chance I got,” Jigsaw assures me with a smug expression as we watch Shelby and her mom tearfully hugging goodbye at the airport security gate.

  “Thanks. Exactly what I need.”

  “She’s a feisty one.” Jigsaw rubs his chin, still focused on Shelby’s mom.

  “Can you please not eyeball my girlfriend’s mother?”

  “Why? She’s a fine woman. Meant to be appreciated. Like wine.”

  “You’re a beer drinker. Appreciate her from a distance.”

  “A man’s taste develops, you know.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” I grumble.

  “Bye!” Lynn waves to us one final time before heading through the metal detectors.

  Shelby turns our way, sniffling and wiping her eyes. When she’s close enough, I pull her into my arms. She presses her face against my chest and lets me hold her for a few minutes.

  “Aww,” Jigsaw mouths, forming a heart with his thumbs and index fingers.

  “Asshole,” I mouth back over Shelby’s head.

  “I’m surprised your mom doesn’t want to be on the road with you, Shelby,” Jigsaw says.

  She pulls away. “Bite yer tongue. I love my momma but I’d never go onstage again if I had her nitpicking at me every dang night.” She scowls. “‘Your hair’s too long. Why don’t you have more costume changes? More makeup. Less makeup.’ No effing thank you.”

  Jigsaw’s mouth opens, then closes. “I thought she made your dresses?”

  “Some of ’em, yup. And I’m damn proud to wear ’em onstage too. Then send her pictures.”

  Chuckling, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and steer her toward the exit. Jigsaw falls into step beside me. “So, what’s our plan today?”

  I throw a glance at him after the word “our.” “I wasn’t aware we had plans.”

  “That’s why I was asking, dickface. Unless you need me, I’m gonna check out of the hotel and stay at Ice’s until we’re ready to hit the road.”

  “Good idea. I still need to finish some stuff for him.”

  “I can do that for you, brother.”

  “Thanks.”

  Shelby seems lost in thought, not adding anything to our discussion. I wait until we’re back at the hotel to ask her what she wants to do.

  “Whatever you need.” She gestures toward the door to our room. “I’m sure all this stuff has put you behind.”

  “Don’t worry about that.” I drop down on the edge of the bed, running my hands over my jeans, carefully considering my next question. “You want to go look for some luggage maybe?”

  She taps her fingers against her thigh. “I didn’t think of that. Where’d all the rest of my stuff end up?”

  “I think Greg and Trent shoved everything in some plastic bags and tossed it in the van.”

  “Shoot. All my clothes are gonna be wrecked.” She moves closer and drops down onto the bed next to me, staring straight ahead. “I can’t…I’ll miss my trunk. I’ve had it forever, but I don’t think I’ll ever look at it the same way again. Although I’m sure the FBI don’t plan to give it back any time soon.” She flashes a pained smile. “You’re right. I need a suitcase or something. But no luggage I can fit inside of.”

  It’s too early for me, but I’m glad she’s a
ble to joke about it a little. I reach over and take her hand. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Think we can find a Walmart or something around here?”

  “We can do better than that. You need something sturdy for all the traveling you’re doing.”

  “I can’t afford sturdy.”

  For now, I let it go. Shelby’s proud and I respect that. But she’s dating the wrong man if she thinks I’m not going to take care of her needs.

  “Let me fix my hair and then I want to track Greg down to find out where my stuff is.”

  “All right.” While she’s in the bathroom, I pull out my phone and google luggage for touring musicians. I search through a few suggestions, finally deciding a hard-side case with spinning wheels will probably work best for her. The one that’s rated the highest even comes in Caribbean Blue. Looks close enough to Shelby’s favorite color—electric teal.

  Done.

  Next, I search for any locations near us that actually has the set. One of the malls has it, so while Shelby’s still occupied, I give the store a quick call to confirm they have each piece and ask the salesperson to set them aside for me.

  Luggage issue solved.

  “All ready.” Shelby drifts over, brushing her leg against mine. “Who were you talking to?”

  I click my phone off. “No one. Ready to go?”

  Suspicion glitters in her eyes but she nods.

  “How do you feel about staying at the clubhouse tonight?” I ask. “Ice said they’re having a party and strongly hinted he’d like to see my face.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  I pack the few things I brought with me. Shelby gathers her stuff and meets me at the door.

  Greg lets us onto the van to grab Shelby’s stuff. I drag the garbage and tote bags over to the truck.

  “My dresses are a wreck.” Shelby paws through one of the giant plastic bags, sighing and frowning at the jumble of clothes.

  The other bag must have all her shoes in it. It’s lumpy and already has heels and toes poking through the sides. Now that I have a better idea of how much stuff she has, I consider calling the store back to see if they have two sets of the Caribbean Blue hard-side cases.

  “We can have the hotel dry-clean your dresses and pick them up tomorrow if you’re doing rehearsal here again.”

  “Shoot, you know how much a hotel’s gonna charge for that?”

  “It’s kind of a business expense, isn’t it?”

  She scowls at me. “I guess. Maybe we’ll stick it on Greg’s tab, since he made this mess.”

  “Works for me.”

  “I’m kidding. I wouldn’t do that.”

  I shrug. “We’ll work it out later. Grab the stuff you need cleaned.”

  Inside the hotel, while Shelby’s talking to someone in guest services about her laundry, I text Greg to give him the heads-up about the massive fee that’s about to be tacked onto his bill and to let him know we’re staying at the clubhouse tonight. He responds with a time for her to be here for rehearsal in the morning.

  “You’re awfully intense.” Murphy’s rumbling voice pulls me away from my phone and I set it down.

  I stand and slap his outstretched hand in hello. “Where you been hiding, fucker?”

  One corner of his mouth lifts, and he strokes a hand over his beard. “Just enjoying kid-free time with the wife.”

  “Where is she?”

  “In our room.”

  “Poor Heidi. Can she even walk?”

  He lifts his hand, wobbling it from side to side. “I came down to find some Gatorade.”

  “Jesus Christ.” I laugh and shake my head. “Too much info.”

  “You need to get back to that?” He nods at my phone that’s now blinking and buzzing across the table.

  I check the message from Greg, send a quick response, and set it down again. “Her manager.”

  “You’re like her go-between now.”

  “I guess.” I glance over his shoulder, watching Shelby still chatting about her dresses. “Someone needs to be. After everything she just went through, I don’t want her to feel pressured, you know?”

  “I hear you.” His expression flattens into something more serious. “I was only kidding. You’re right. No one else is gonna look out for,” he taps his chest, “her well-being.”

  “Since when do you say things like well-being?”

  “Don’t be a dick. She’s got Greg to look out for her business stuff. But no one’s looking out for her.” He throws his arms wide. “Enter, Rooster. Cock-a-doodle-motherfuckin’-do.”

  I roll my eyes but can’t help laughing. “I can’t sit by and watch when she needs something and not fix it, you know?”

  “Trust me, I get it.”

  “We’re heading over to the mall to find her some luggage. You two want to join us?”

  He shrugs. “Sure. Wrath and Trin will probably want to go too. She said she needs something for her camera.”

  “Hey, Murphy.” Shelby walks up alongside him.

  “How you doing today, Shelby?”

  “Meh. Rehearsal sucked. My momma went home. And I just handed over half my wardrobe to this hotel. Hoping they can clean it without wrecking or losing it.” She returns his smile. “How are you doing?”

  He shakes his head. “Better than that. You mind if Heidi and I tag along on your shopping trip?”

  Shelby’s gaze slides my way. “Shopping trip?”

  “The luggage?” I remind her.

  “Oh, right. No, of course not. The more the merrier.”

  SHELBY

  Rooster pulls the truck into a parking spot and I glance at the mall entrance. “You know where we are?”

  He checks his phone, swiping through a few screens before nodding. “Yup. Should be right inside.”

  “What should?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  We’re supposed to meet up with his brothers in the food court and the flat brick wall with the big white department store sign on the side doesn’t look like it’s serving up pizza and hamburgers. But I follow him anyway.

  He stops in front of some fancy-ass luggage store and pulls me inside.

  “I can’t afford anything in here,” I whisper.

  A saleswoman approaches us with a blank expression. Maybe we don’t look like her usual customers. “Can I help you?” Her eyes widen as she gives me a second glance. Shit, I hope she doesn’t recognize me or something.

  I fidget and squeeze Rooster’s hand. He squeezes back but doesn’t take the hint that I want to leave.

  “Yeah, I called a little while ago about the expandable hard-side set in blue?”

  My jaw drops and I cock my head, peering up at him.

  “Sure!” Now the saleslady has a pep in her step. She waves her hand in the air, inviting us to follow her to the register. “I have three pieces. Large traveler. Medium traveler. And carry-on size.”

  She wheels all three pieces in front of the counter for us to inspect. Rooster takes a step back, studying them intently. “Do you have another large one?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right back.” She disappears into a door behind the register.

  I grab Rooster’s arm, yanking him toward me. “What are you doing?”

  “Do you like the color?” His lips curve up. “Online it looked kinda close to electric teal.”

  Oh. My. God.

  My heart absolutely melts. When we first met, I told him electric teal was my favorite color. I was sort of being silly, wanting him to understand I wasn’t a pink, frilly girly-girl type. But he took it to heart. First, buying me a pair of boots in that color, and now…

  “Shelby?”

  “When did you…How’d you even?” I’m too overcome to spit out the right question.

  He holds his hands in the air, tapping his fingers as if he were on his phone. “I told you, my google-fu is strong. I looked up what would be appropriate for touring musicians. This set had good reviews. Found a place not far from the hotel that had it�
�and here we are.”

  Maybe it’s a mundane thing to get all love-buzzed over, but that he did all that to solve my rather banal problem is so sweet, I’m not sure what to say. Not that I can’t google stuff myself, but I probably would’ve gone to the closest Walmart and picked out whatever looked big enough. “Thank you.”

  “Do you like the color?”

  “I love it.”

  “Good. Open ’em up and see if you think the compartments will work for how you like to organize your stuff.”

  “You’re acting like I organize at all.” I nudge him with my elbow. “You saw what my trunk looked like.”

  He huffs a quick laugh. “Yeah, I remember.”

  I crouch down, turn the biggest suitcase on its side, and unzip it. It’s full of pockets, hidden compartments, and straps to keep everything secure. “It’s great.”

  The saleswoman returns with a second large roller. Rooster eyes all four pieces together.

  “I don’t think all that’s gonna fit in the van or on your bike,” I whisper.

  He slides his gaze my way but doesn’t say anything, then lifts his chin at the clerk. “Can we break up a set? The two large bags and the carry-on?”

  “Sure. Whatever you want. They might be heavy when they’re fully packed.”

  Rooster flexes his arm. “Not a problem. That’s what she has me for.”

  I lean into him. “Stop. You’re not my butler.”

  “You think that’s enough to fit everything?” he asks me.

  “Gosh, I hope so.”

  The woman ends up talking him into packing cubes and helps him pick out a case for himself. At least this isn’t all about me. When she rings up everything, I squirm.

  “Rooster,” I whisper. “I can’t—”

  The stern expression he turns my way snaps my mouth shut.

  There’s no elegant way to carry giant ol’ suitcases out of a store like this. At least Walmart would’ve had a shopping cart. The clerk helps us tuck our purchases inside the two large suitcases and sends us on our merry way.

  Well, Rooster seems merry as he clutches both handles in one hand and rolls the cases out of the store. I’m still gagging over the price.

  “Logan.” I hurry to keep up with him and he captures my hand with his free one.