by Lauren Dane
Adrian’s gaze moved to Gillian again, a smile on his face. Mary came out from the kitchen and they all moved to leave.
* * *
They went back to her place and talked until long after midnight. He was going home the following day. She didn’t ask him to stay any longer and he wanted her to. She didn’t push for any more than he’d already given. But he wanted her to.
He’d thought about it pretty much the entire trip back home. Especially after the conversation he and Adrian had had. He’d known Adrian for a long time. There was a big, soul-deep change in his friend.
Mary had already changed the way he thought. Part of it was that he couldn’t figure her out. Which was unusual and maybe part of her appeal. But he doubted it. She didn’t have an agenda. It kept making him nervous. And then he’d realize how fucking nice it was that he didn’t have to constantly worry about it.
He’d had a few longer-term relationships before, mainly before they broke big. But women usually wanted to spend time together. Mary had a busy life and when he left that afternoon, she hadn’t dug around about when she’d see him again. In fact, he’d been the one to say he’d call her soon.
And then the appeal of moving on to the next city and therefore not having to worry about anyone wanting more from him than a night or two wasn’t enough. He wanted more. The tour was over, his life would have some quiet moments, and he realized, quite clearly, that he wanted to spend that time and energy pursuing this thing, this possibility of a thing with Mary Whaley.
He stopped in Portland to grab doughnuts and coffee. His mother was of the opinion that Folgers was just fine and any fancy crap he bought was a waste of money. He never knew any different until they’d started to make some real money and stopping at gas stations for seventy-five-cent burritos and ulcer-creating sludge wasn’t their only option.
Now he knew and now, as his mother said, he was a bit of a coffee snob. He had his favorites and was sure to have it when they traveled.
Mary had Kona coffee in her pantry. He smiled. Showed what good taste she had. He should take her to Hawaii. So they could have it fresh.
It was late enough that he didn’t catch too much traffic, and by the time he got through Portland, he started coming home. The road changed, the sights became more familiar. The river glittered.
He’d been all over the globe. But nowhere else made him feel like coming home the way Hood River did.
* * *
When he pulled over the last rise and saw the land he let go of his last bit of stress. This was his. He’d run over these hills, chasing things, running from a pissed-off older brother. Later they’d ridden horses and ATVs. There’d be activity at first light in the morning. The pears were close to harvest.
His window was down and the scent of freshly cut grass and alfalfa hung in the air. The lights were on in the main house, he noted as he passed. He’d stop at his place first and wander up to see his parents once he’d cleaned up.
The porch light was on at his house. He smiled. Probably Ezra, who lived closest. Damien’s house would be on the way back to Ezra’s and he’d have stopped to turn it on because Damien was returning. There was something to be said about your family leaving the porch light on so you could find your way home.
The garage door made that horrible squeal when he opened it though. He sighed, something to look at. The next day or maybe the day after. The house had been aired out, he noted when he came in from the garage. He flipped the lights on. His bags had been dropped in the living room. Paddy had left a note saying his drums had been taken up to the barn.
A shower first. He stopped by the fridge and peeked. He grinned as he grabbed an ice-cold beer and cracked it open. There was milk and butter, yogurt, cheese. He knew there’d be fruit, something never in short supply around there. Bread sat on the counter. His mother, most likely.
After a shower he changed and grabbed his bike. He could have walked. It would have taken him about fifteen minutes, but he preferred to ride his ages-old Schwinn over instead.
Ezra and his dad sat on the front porch drinking iced tea.
“Thought I heard a car earlier.” His dad gave him a hug when he came up the front steps. Ezra followed.
“Just got back. Took a shower, had a beer, looked at the mail, put the mail back in the pile and came over here. What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Just talking about tomorrow. Just need to check the fruit. Looking pretty clean this year. Probably have another week or so before we need to harvest.”
“I’ll be around to help.”
His father nodded. That’s what you did when you lived on a family farm. He and his brothers would go away and do their thing, but when they were home, they helped. It was hard work, but it was honest work. It built character, and his father liked to say it kept them out of too much trouble.
Ezra sat again, stretching his legs out. His big brother topped six and a half feet. Because he worked the way he did, he was solid muscle, a lot like their father. He’d let his mustache and beard grow back, and when he was out on the back of a horse with a cowboy hat on, he looked like a cigarette ad from the 1970s. Right then though, he looked like a guy who’d most likely been up since five.
He wanted to talk with Ezra about Mary, but now wasn’t the time. He still needed to think on it himself.
“I’m going in to check on Mom. I’ll be back.”
“She’s in a good mood. The babies are here.”
Vaughan had two kids that had resulted from a very short marriage three years ago. She’d crumpled under the weight of being married to a musician and had divorced him about two months after Kensey, their youngest, had been born.
But to her credit, she’d agreed to settle in Gresham so they could share custody. She had a part-time job while she finished school. Vaughan paid her support and all her bills. Mostly out of guilt, but he had a lot to be guilty over. And he loved his kids without a doubt.
His support enabled her to be home with the girls and it kept her reasonable about how much time the girls spent with them. It didn’t erase the fact that he wasn’t there every day for his kids, but he was trying.
Damien grinned at the thought of the little dynamos. Vaughan wasn’t the only one who loved those kids. His nieces were awesome little girls.
Inside the house, the sound of giggles drew him toward the huge kitchen where his mother was standing at the island while the girls sat nearby coloring as their daddy looked on.
“I thought I heard there was a monkey infestation. I see there is. I’d better run.”
The girls saw him and jumped down, running to him. He scooped them both up into a hug, kissing their faces.
They laughed and so did he.
“When did you get back?” his mother asked once he put the girls down and they scampered back to their dad and their crayons.
His mother had not been pleased when Vaughan and Kelly had decided to split, but it was clear she approved of how he’d handled the situation since. It wasn’t perfect. But the girls would always know they were loved. Both sides of their family lived within an hour of them. His parents regularly had them for weeks at a time through the year, even when Vaughan was on the road.
He kissed his mom’s cheek and grabbed a piece of the cinnamon bread she’d been slicing. “About an hour ago. I’m sure you’ll thank me for the shower I took first. Speaking of thanks, glad I’ve got breakfast in my fridge.”
“I figured you’d come back with that coffee you like, but you’d forget milk and then come up here looking for it.”
“Appreciate it.” The bread hit the spot. He hadn’t eaten since the lunch Mary had made him before he left Bainbridge.
“There’s leftovers. Want some?” His mother tipped her chin toward the fridge.
He got it himself, still wanting the memories of Mary making him food to be the main ones in his head.
He listened to his nieces chatter away, Kensey more actually just chattering, as she was only three and didn’
t have all her words yet. Vaughan helped them color and his mother supervised.
Paddy wandered in just as he’d finished up.
“Thanks for dropping my stuff off.”
“No big. How’s Mary?”
His mother didn’t try to hide her naked interest in that subject.
“She’s fine. Went to that supper club of hers last night. I know why it’s so popular now. We went for a hike yesterday.”
“She outdoorsy?”
His mother hadn’t liked Kelly. Mainly because Kelly was, as his mother saw it, too soft for the type of life they led. Not just the ranching aspect, but the Hurleys were rough-and-tumble. They rode horses and dirt bikes. They toured and lived hard on the road. Kelly hadn’t much been up for that sort of thing and while Damien couldn’t argue that she was incredibly beautiful, she just couldn’t keep up. She had been jealous of it, saw it as something that took Vaughan away from her.
And he supposed, she’d been right.
“She’s one of those people who is rarely still. She gets up early and goes and goes.”
“’Course she is. Girl has her own business. Who else does it for you?” His mother sniffed.
“Promised we’d go kayaking the next time I made it up to visit.”
His mother handed Kensey a crayon that had dropped before she looked back to Damien. “Did you invite her here? Have her come down harvest time.”
That would be . . . interesting. The ranch would be alive with activity. The pears would be harvested by hand and then cooled to spur ripening before they were shipped. There was even a harvest festival in town that she’d probably love. Even though they were celebrities, they were hometown boys and people rarely bugged them.
He wasn’t sure if Mary was ready for a full dose of Sharon Hurley. Then again, who ever was?
“I’ll talk to her about her schedule. Weekends are hard. That’s when the bulk of her jobs are. She’s very business-minded.”
His mother nodded as if that satisfied her.
“You’ll like her.” Vaughan spoke from the table. “You should see how hard he chases her. She’s got her own stuff to do. It hasn’t even occurred to her that she’s far more than some . . . um, friend he met on the road.”
His mother turned to him, one brow rising. “That so?”
“I think so, yeah. It’s early days. I’ve only known her three months.”
“You’ll need to show her she’s not the same.” She left it there for the time being. He knew his mother though; she’d seen for herself that he wanted Mary. Once she was sure he deserved her, his mother would turn into his greatest—albeit probably most annoying—ally.
13
He woke up. Alone. Normally he’d have been fine with that, but really, he missed turning over to find a tiny, dark-haired woman burrowed down into the blankets next to him.
He frowned at his inability to get used to life without her in it. It wasn’t like she was with him on tour or anything. So why now?
He gave up, looking at his phone to see it was already nine. She’d be awake.
He dialed her number.
“Why hello.”
He smiled. “What’s up, Curly?”
“I’m chopping carrots for a salad. Luncheon thingy for one of Levi’s mom’s charity gigs.”
“Nice.”
“Seriously. His mother is sort of scary, but her friends and all their foundations and stuff keep me pretty busy lately. Can’t complain about that. What’s up with you?”
“Kensey and Maddie, Vaughan’s daughters, are here. We’re doing a cookout and hanging by his pool. You should come down.” He said it so suddenly he surprised himself. “Have you ever seen a pear harvest? It’s set for the day after tomorrow. Stay for a few days. Maybe we’ll go windsurfing down on the river. ATV a little. Ride horses. Have lots and lots of dirty and inventive sex.”
She laughed. “I don’t know if I can.”
“It’s during the week. I’d have you back home for your supper club on Friday. I have a small plane if you can meet me. Then I can get you door-to-door a lot quicker.”
She sighed, but he heard that she wavered. “It does sound fun, but I have jobs every day this week. And the supper club is Wednesday night, Friday night and Sunday night. This is the one week a month it’s on Wednesday too. I can’t be gone for that long right now.”
He frowned. What was he going to say, blow off your job you’ve worked so hard for? “After harvest, how about if I come up? Then you don’t have to worry about not doing jobs. I can even help. And then, you know, the hot-sex part can occur around your schedule.”
“All right. If that works for you. I feel bad that it’s always you who has to do the traveling.”
That did make him feel better. “It’s okay. Right now it’s my schedule that allows for it. It’s worth it to see you.”
“That’s a very nice thing to say.”
“I have a secret.”
“Uh-oh.”
He laughed. “I like to say nice things to you. Mostly because they’re true, but also because I hope it keeps you sweet on me and all.”
“You’re so full of it. My goodness. It’s quite a lucky thing for you that I am, indeed, sweet on you and that you happen to look as good as you do.”
He blushed, filled with pleasure at her compliment.
They chatted a little while longer before hanging up; he didn’t stop smiling for hours.
* * *
“She doesn’t seem bothered that we don’t see each other more. Isn’t that weird?” Damien kept an eye on the girls, who were in the pool with Vaughan and their grandparents. Paddy and Ezra’s dogs were involved as well.
Ezra turned the steaks. “Maybe she’s not into you?”
“That’s not it. I’d know. It’s not that she’s disinterested in me. It’s that, well, other women would have pushed to see me more. She seems content with it. When we’re together it’s smoking hot. We’re both into each other. We laugh. Things are easy. She makes me laugh, Ezra.”
Ezra laughed. “Well, good. But if you’re expecting her to be like other women, and your previous other women had not been the type you’d want to be with, then maybe you need to readjust your expectations.”
“Some of her friends think I’m a drunken man-whore.” There. He said it.
“You are a drunken man-whore.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side, Ezra.”
His brother looked up and into his eyes. Very few people saw to the heart of him like Ezra did. “I am on your side. But you tell me, you go search the Internet for yourself right now. Tell me what the first images are. Go on. I’ll be here.”
Damien snorted. “I know what they are.”
“No. I mean it. My laptop is on the kitchen table. Go. Look.”
He did, annoyed at his brother. But when he did the search he cringed. Hell, he was in those pictures, he couldn’t deny it. They weren’t a lie. But that’s not who he was. Not totally and certainly not anymore. The problem with the media, and with Google searches, is that they only seemed to catch moments of your whole life. They weren’t getting shots of him playing Barbies with his nieces. Or helping out in the orchards or fields.
Was this what she thought he did? He scrubbed his hands over his face before returning to the back deck some minutes later.
“Look, I know what it is to be a drunken man-whore, okay?” Ezra spoke before he did. “It’s fun and all. For a while. But the hangover is a motherfucker. You can fix this, but it’s going to take some energy. This woman isn’t a groupie. She’s not with you for a backstage pass. She’s a real person with real feelings. She’s got a business and a life. She’s not going to want any of that stuff in her life. Can you blame her?”
“She should know me enough to know I’m not that. Not anymore anyway. I’ve always treated her with respect. She’s different.”
Ezra grabbed a pull or two from his cream soda. “Sure. Which is why it suddenly matters. And probably also why she lets you
keep coming around. But you’re going to have to work it to get her to see you’re more than a Google search.”
“Like what?”
“Court her. Woo her. Whatever you want to call it. She’s got brothers and a father and family, and they’re all around her. They’re not going to let some pretty boy come in and hurt her. You’ll have to introduce them to the real Damien Hurley.”
He slumped. “This sucks.”
Ezra shrugged. “Not really. You just have to work hard. And you hate working hard. You’re used to getting by on how good you look and your fame. Oh sure, you know what it is to work in the fields all day, and to play one shitty little club after the next until you finally made it. But with women? Well, you’re a lazy fuck because you’re handsome. You gotta work now. If she’s worth it, you will. If not, well, you already know the road is full of chicks who don’t give a fuck who you are other than the pretty-boy rock star with more money and booze than sense.”
* * *
Mary looked up from loading things into the back of her car to see Damien’s car pulling up her drive.
Unexpected.
She didn’t bother to hide the flush of delight at the sight of him. She really did have a lot of work to do when he invited her down to his family’s ranch. And she was sorry to have had to say no.
No matter how hard she tried to maintain her distance, she couldn’t deny she liked him. Liked being around him too. Didn’t so much like that she’d received a call from a reporter—though she was doubtful of such a claim—after a picture of her at the Gorge with Damien had hit the Internet. She said, “No, thanks,” and hung up. But it made her wary.
He got out and she took him in and the wariness faded. Damn, he was pretty.
“So glad I caught you.”
He approached and pulled her into a hug. She hugged him right back, tipping her face up to receive a kiss. He settled in until her knees were rubbery.
“You’re here.”
“I am. Harvest is done so I decided to get away for a few days to come see you. What are you up to?”