Lush (A DELICIOUS NOVEL)

by Lauren Dane

  “I’m on my way to Tart. I have a job. A dinner party. You’re welcome to hang out here until I get back. Should be ten or so. Or Adrian is around. I know because I just spoke to Gillian about twenty minutes ago.”

  “I can see Adrian any time. Can I hang out with you for a while? I promise not to get in your way. Obviously not at the party, I get that. But at Tart while you prep?”

  She eyed him carefully and shrugged. “Sure. Come on then.”

  She drove the quick two miles to Tart and led him through the back doors, locking up behind them.

  “Don’t you keep supplies here? Must be a pain to haul stuff here and back home.” He placed the boxes of supplies on the worktable.

  “Thanks. Yes, I do keep supplies here.” Her hair was already tied back, but she put on an apron to keep her clothes clean. “But a girl has to grocery shop.” She washed her hands and indicated he do the same. If he was there, she may as well put him to work. “I went to the farmer’s market today and found a few things. I snuck off to Seattle and did a little supply shopping over there too.”

  “You’re going to let me help? I’m coming up in the world.”

  She handed him a colander, a bundle of carrots and a peeler. “Baby steps, Damien.” She grinned and he kissed her hard and fast. “I’m glad to see you.”

  He started peeling carrots as she laid out all the components to the salad. Sometimes she prepared things in the kitchen of the house where the dinner party was hosted. But that night’s party she’d only be taking the completed food and helping arrange it.

  “You are? Glad to see me, I mean.”

  She cocked her head as she julienned jicama for the shrimp salad. “I rarely say things I don’t mean. It’s unnecessary.”

  “Sometimes you get sort of like a schoolteacher. I feel sort of pervy admitting it, but it’s hot.”

  She laughed.

  “So . . .” He trailed off and she kept chopping. Working in the kitchen always helped her gather her thoughts, so she gave him time to do the same.

  “What’s been up with you since I saw you last?”

  “Lots of work. So much now that I have to actually say no. Imagine that. Someone asked me last week if I’d consider being a personal chef. It’s not something I’d considered before. I said no. But Daisy brought up that I could prepackage enough meals for a week and have them delivered to certain clients. There’d be instructions on how to combine to make the food. Heating in some cases. That sort of thing.”

  “Daisy’s pretty smart.” He held up his hands. “Done with carrots.”

  She examined them and must have found his work to be acceptable. Though she took them to her work area. He clearly wasn’t up to snuff yet enough to slice them.

  “I’ll let my mom know you found my carrot peeling skills acceptable. She made us help in the kitchen from a pretty early age. She’s teaching my nieces now. Why don’t you want to spend more time with me?”

  She tipped the jicama into a nearby bowl before turning to him again. “Say what?”

  “God, this isn’t coming out right. Probably because I suck at this stuff. You’re a hard woman, Mary Whaley.”

  “I’m what?”

  He took a deep breath. “I like being around you. A lot. I want to, you know, investigate to see if this thing could be more than a few days here and there until we get bored. But you’re resistant. Is it the tabloids? Is it me?”

  “Get started on that celery. It works better if you leave it together to cut off the bottoms and the tops. Don’t get wild with the peeling, I just don’t need the threads in the salad.”

  She pulled out the shrimp and moved to the sink to clean them before she put them in the marinade.

  “I like being around you too. I’m not being resistant. I have a job and a life that is here. I can’t just up and go down to Oregon whenever I get invited. And, to be totally honest, this is a fun thing, but I’m not looking for anything permanent.”

  “Bullshit. You’re not a one-night-stand woman.”

  She burst out laughing. “Hello, I fucked you the second time I ever saw you. How is that not me being a one-night-stand woman? I don’t normally do that. The having sex the second time I clap eyes on a person.” She frowned.

  “If you did, I probably wouldn’t have been so excited to see you again.” He paused. “Look, I dig you. I texted you all those times because I wanted to know you. I still want to know you. You can expect more from me. I wanted you to know that.”

  She blew out a breath as she worked. He was so unexpected. She wasn’t sure what the hell to do with this man. The sex part was easy. They had that connection in such a major way it wasn’t anything she worried about. It just worked.

  But the rest?

  “Last week I got a call from a guy claiming to be a reporter at XYZ. He wanted details about me. A picture of us at the Gorge had made your fan site, I guess, and people were clamoring to know who I was.”

  “Ah. I’m sorry. Did you say?”

  “No. I mean he knows who I am enough to have my number and call me for a quote. So. Anyway, I told him to fuck off and hung up. I’m not interested in that life, Damien. I like you. A lot. But I don’t like reporters in trees across the street from my house like Gillian had to deal with. They have a fence and a gate around their home because of fans. People come to Tart now looking for him. I’ve watched her try to deal with it for the last year and it’s been crazy. I don’t want it. I don’t want hateful letters from women who tell me in detail how many times they’ve fucked you, or what you’re like with two girls at once.” The thought of it actually made her sick to her stomach.

  “That happened to Gillian?”

  “Yes. It’s very hard. I have enough to deal with. You’re a great guy. You make me laugh. We have some pretty stellar sexual chemistry. But I don’t even really follow the celebrity news and I’ve seen you in it. I just don’t want that. So we keep things chill and casual and I’m no target in the media, and when you move on, no one gets hurt.”

  “Are you so convinced I’ll move on? I’m . . . This is different. What we have. I want to see what it can be. I’ve never wanted that before.”

  “Maybe you only think you want it because unlike all those other women, I’m not begging for you to marry me and buy me diamonds.”

  He snorted.

  She created a quick marinade, and after drying the shrimp, she put them in it and closed the lid.

  “Okay, so the deal is, I think you not begging for me to marry you is different and it does catch my attention. But not because it’s a challenge or whatever. Because it’s part of you. Because you don’t want me because I’m a millionaire. You don’t want to toss aside your life and be in mine. You’re your own person. It makes you more beautiful. Interesting. I think you should give me a chance.”

  “I’m letting you peel my celery, aren’t I?”

  She was scared. She liked him. A lot. It could be more if she let herself envision it. But what she could envision a lot easier were those pictures she’d seen, and those letters to Gillian that Adrian’s people dealt with now.

  She wasn’t tough like that. A man like this could break her heart and it would be monumentally stupid to let him get close enough to have that power. What they had right then was nice. It made her happy but she didn’t depend on it. If he stopped calling, it would be sad for a bit. A week or two. But she’d get over it and keep on with her life.

  “How about this? Just give me a chance to prove to you that I am more than Damien Hurley, pretty-boy drummer with a bottle of Jack in his hand. That’s all I’m asking.”

  She turned. “I already know that. Dumbass.” She went back to work, but didn’t say more and he didn’t press.

  He insisted on driving her to the home where the dinner was being held and even helped her unload the food. But he went back to wait in the car while she did her thing. And when she was done, he drove her back to Tart where he helped her clean up all her equipment.

  “Wou
ld you like to go look at the moon?”

  He looked up, surprised. “Yeah.”

  “Let’s go back to my house.”

  * * *

  Once there she grabbed some snacks, a blanket and a flashlight, and they went out through her yard. She pointed. “There’s a rise just through that stand of trees. There’s even a path; just watch your step.”

  She wasn’t sure why she was taking him to her thinking spot, but she wanted to look at the moon and be with him, and he was there and the moon hung high and full on a very clear September night, so why not?

  “Smells so good.”

  “It was a pretty day. The bark got warm. I love this smell. And the pine needles. The water off in the distance.” It was dark out there on her side of the island. Dark enough that the stars above were bright and clear.

  “It’s a good thing I work out. This is your idea of an easy walk?”

  “Pfft. This is a totally easy walk. It’s just a little steep this last bit. Don’t cry about it.”

  He laughed then. “You’re tough.”

  “I have two older brothers. If I wasn’t tough, I’d be in trouble. Plus my dad is a retired ironworker. Do you know what an ironworker thinks about weak people who sit on the couch all day?”

  “Ha! My dad is a rancher, so I bet I heard the same thing growing up. We were only allowed to watch television or play video games on weekends, and only for very restricted hours. I think now, looking back on it, that they did it when they wanted to lock their bedroom door to get it on. We were too dumb then. But my mom is pretty crafty.”

  He laid out the blanket once they’d arrived and they settled. She opened the cooler and popped a stuffed mushroom into her mouth. She passed one his way and he scarfed it down.

  “Damn, it’s beautiful up here. You can see everything.”

  “This is my parents’ land. I’ve been coming up here since I was, I don’t know, eight or nine? Ryan and I discovered it. I come up here when I need to be reminded of the beauty of the moon and stars.” She laid back on the blanket and marveled at the world just above. “Over the years people have tried to buy it. But my dad loves the wildness all around. My mom would be grumpy too. She likes to do little improvements. Their yard has gotten bigger over the years.” She snorted a laugh.

  “Why do you laugh?”

  “She’s hilarious. She gets a bug to do something. Build a little water feature, or some decking, whatever. And she starts leaving little articles about it, pictures, how-to guides, that sort of thing around until my father finally relents and does it. It’s a little game between them. They have a zing. It was good to have that example growing up.” It was why she had the attitude that she’d wait as long as she had to to find it for herself. That zing was worth the wait.

  “They sound a lot like my parents. My dad is a third-generation rancher. We started in Kentucky and moved out to Oregon when I was six. They’d scrimped and saved and got up enough to buy a good, solid plot of land. Then we all built the house while we lived in a shitty little trailer. That first winter I’m surprised we didn’t kill each other. But when you’re a kid you don’t really know. Anyway. He decided on alfalfa and that’s what he did. We took in the first harvest as we finished the house. That got us through the next year and so on. My mom directed us; he set the course. They both have this intensity of connection. When I was a kid I remember going to other peoples’ houses and wondering why their parents didn’t kiss each other or talk to each other all the time the way my parents did.” He paused for a bit as they watched the sky.

  “How did they react—your parents, I mean—when Cal told them about Jules and Gideon?”

  “I was there when he showed up to tell them. My dad was downstairs dealing with his computer. Ryan and I have to go over there once a week or so to run a virus check and to get rid of eleventy billion cookies and stuff. Anyway, my mom made us shut the door and get her emergency kit down.”

  “Emergency kit? God, I’m starting to wonder if our mothers being together in the same place might rip a hole in the space-time continuum.”

  Mary started to giggle and it took a bit to get back under control. “It’s a pack of cigarettes, some whiskey and a few twenties. I can proudly tell you she’s never had to get the emergency kit down for me. My brothers, god, they were so wild. You’d never know it to look at them now, all successful and stuff. But holy cow, they were hard to handle growing up.

  “Anyway, she took two shots, lit the cigarette, cross-examined Cal, who likes to think he’s smooth but my mother could have been a code breaker in the war. No one can withstand her. Anyway, in the end she said she supported him and would handle my dad. They always took his being bi pretty easily, but you know a threesome is a whole different matter. But they love Jules and that he does too worked out. Gideon is impossible not to love as well. I’m lucky. I know some people don’t have parents like mine. I’m spoiled to live in this little world where I’m supported and loved the way I am.”

  “My brothers and I weren’t easy. Ezra and Paddy were the worst. But my mom should have had a parking space with her name on it at our schools, she was down there so much. She used to threaten to homeschool us. Ezra got in fights a lot and later he drank and carried on. I remember my dad having to haul him home by the back of his shirt a few times. But it’s always been my mother who kept us in line. I mean, we got into a shit-ton of trouble, but without her and her very strong hand in our upbringing, it would have been way worse. Ezra was a handful but she kept him out of jail with music. He loved to play music. He was the first of us who learned an instrument.”

  “He used to be the lead guitarist for Sweet Hollow Ranch, right?”

  “Yeah. He still song writes with Paddy. Ezra got out of high school and flirted with going into the military, and I think my parents would have supported that idea. But then he started on at the ranch and we started Sweet Hollow Ranch. Then Paddy graduated and he worked at the granary part time too. We started getting gigs in places none of us were legally able to go into were we not playing there. By the time Vaughan was done with school we were ready to make that move to L.A. She came with us as I said. Kept us fed, beat off the worst of the people who’d have bled us dry.”

  “There’s a big but there.”

  “I assumed you knew.”

  “I have been a fan of your music a long time. I know there was trouble, but to be totally honest, ever since Adrian came into our lives I try not to look at the tabloids. It’s a self-defense mechanism too, now that you’re around.”

  She reached out to take his hand in hers as they watched the sky.

  “He partied hard. Harder and harder as things went on. Lots of alcohol. Then drugs. After a while they affected his game. He started to show up late for shows. A really scuzzy element started hanging around backstage. He kept borrowing money. It just . . .” He had to stop to swallow back the emotion.

  “He was my hero. The big brother who always had my back, and suddenly he was the guy who I caught stealing shit from my wallet. The guy who left used needles all over the fucking place. He lost a huge amount of weight. He stopped taking care of himself. I knew he had a problem with heroin but we kept hoping he’d turn it around. We gave him ultimatums and he’d stop. For a while anyway. Finally, he and Paddy threw down after a show when Ezra literally fell asleep on stage. Just nodded out while he was playing. We had to cancel the rest of the tour. He took off. We tracked him down. He was in bad, bad shape. He refused to go to rehab.”

  God, he’d never felt so fucking helpless. They’d had to watch Ezra; worried he’d take off again to get more drugs. Ezra had said all sorts of mean shit to hurt them, push them away. Damien had worried about the band, about their tour, all that money riding on the extra dates. Felt guilty that he’d worried over those things.

  “Anyway, my mom showed up. She went in the room with him, locked the door and stayed in there for two hours. Afterward, she came out, told my dad to get the car, we drove him to the rehab facili
ty. He stayed for four months. Did another six in aftercare and he’s been clean ever since. He threw himself into the ranch, taking over the majority of the day-to-day operations from my dad. He quit the band, which he needed to do, but he still writes with Paddy. He produces our records now too. He’s my big brother again. He’s changed a lot in many ways, but for the better.”

  “Wow. I’m glad he’s okay now. Sorry you all had to go through it. It must have been so hard to see him that way.”

  He sucked in a breath. “Yeah. But he’s strong. Seeing him come through it changed us all.”

  “I imagine so.”

  “Not that we don’t get wild when we’re on the road. But it was so much less controlled then. It could have been any of us really. My family came together, which is what counts. I don’t know what my mom said to him that day, but whatever it was, it scared him into dealing, facing it and really committing to rehab. She’s a strong woman. ’Course she blames herself.”

  “That’s what mothers do.”

  She got him. And that should have scared him. But it didn’t.

  “Thanks for sharing all that with me.” She squeezed his hand and he pulled her onto him.

  “Thanks for listening. Now, I have some other ideas for how to spend this lovely evening.”

  14

  What do you want to do today after your morning job?” He kissed her shoulder as they still lounged in her bed.

  “Hm. I was thinking of going to Seattle later. There’s a warehouse where I get some of my supplies. This is all quite boring to you, I’m sure, but I need some new dishes for my small plates menu.”

  “That doesn’t sound boring. Why don’t we have lunch over there too? I need to buy a birthday present for Ezra so maybe we can do that too.”

  “All right. That sounds like fun.”

  “I have a few other ideas. You know, for before you leave this morning.” He rolled on top and she smiled up at him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh. Yes.”