“So damn stubborn,” Talia sighed. “Both of you. Ever heard the saying pride goeth before the fall? Unless you give a little, you’re about to crash and burn.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Talk to him. Better yet, kiss him like you mean business.”
Sawyer wanted to take Talia’s advice. She wanted so much more. But she was afraid. David was gone, a sweet memory. Beck was here, the first man since her husband who mattered.
“I could lose him.” The idea made her skin turn cold. “Beck’s friendship means the world to me.”
“You’re losing him as we speak.”
“No,” Sawyer gasped. She couldn’t bear the thought.
“Talk. To. Him. The right words will come. And if they don’t?” Talia waggled her eyebrows. “Use your body. My guess is Beck is versed in the language.”
Sawyer’s phone rang.
“Beck.”
“I’ll go.”
“No,” she said when Talia started to rise. “Stay. Please.”
Clearing her throat, Sawyer answered.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Beck paused. “Mind if I bring a friend home for dinner?”
“A friend for dinner? Tonight?”
Talia shook her head as she mouthed no, over and over.
“Sure.”
Sawyer shrugged in response to Talia’s groan.
“What was I supposed to say?” She hissed with her hand over the phone. “Not tonight, dear. I plan to seduce you?”
“Yes!” Talia said.
“No.”
“Did you say no?” Beck asked.
“No,” Sawyer rushed to assure him. “I mean, yes. Your friend is welcome. Anyone I know?”
“Joplin Ashford.”
Sawyer didn’t bother to ask anything more. How many women named Joplin could there be in the world? In Beck’s world? Only one.
“Can’t wait to meet her.”
“Great. I’ll call Tilly and tell him to set another place at the table.”
“No.” Sawyer reminded herself to breathe. “I’ll call him.”
“Okay. Tell him not to fuss. See you around six.”
“Her?” Talia demanded the second Sawyer dropped the phone. “Another woman? Tonight, of all nights?”
“Seems an old friend decided to drop into town.”
“Did Beck know she was coming?”
Sawyer hadn’t considered the idea. Had Beck known and not mentioned the fact that Joplin Ashford, his first love, planned to visit? Years had passed, and he believed the feelings had been one-sided. What if he was wrong?
Why look Beck up after so long other than to rekindle their relationship?
“I need to stop looking for trouble,” Sawyer said. She turned to Talia for support. “Right?”
“Agreed. However—”
“No.” Sawyer grabbed her phone. “My brain doesn’t need help thinking up unpleasant scenarios. Keep your doubts to yourself.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Beck said not to fuss.”
“So, you’re going to…?”
“Fuss like hell,” Sawyer said as she hit speed dial. “Hello, Tilly? Break out the good china.”
“On a Tuesday night?” the housekeeper asked. “Kind of fancy for pizza.”
“Just trust me. There’s been a change of plans.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
♫~♫~♫
SAWYER RUSHED THROUGH her shower. What should she wear to meet Joplin Ashford? Casual seemed the best way to go. Something that screamed elegant but in an understated, I always look pulled together, kind of way.
The last thing she wanted was for Beck’s friend to think she spent a good chunk of the afternoon fretting over a simple outfit—even if she did.
As she zipped up her dress, Sawyer’s eyes fell on her hands. More specifically, her fingernails. She kept them short out of necessity and unvarnished because what was the point? Landscaping was a manicure’s natural enemy. The second she hoisted a bag of lawn seed or pulled a few weeds, her nail polish chipped.
Sawyer scrutinized her hands and sighed. At least she was able to scrub off all the dirt.
Checking the clock, she slipped on a pair of pretty sandals, checked her hair and makeup for the tenth time, and headed downstairs.
“Chocolate?” Sawyer asked, sniffing the air as walked into the kitchen.
“Five layers.” Tilly nodded toward the cake topped with swirls of frosting. He wiped his hands on a towel. “Caesar salad, homemade rolls, fresh green beans, and honey-mustard-glazed salmon. Work for you?”
“How did you put everything together so fast?”
“Nothing fancy. A fact your guest doesn’t need to know.”
Little fazed Tilly. When Beck showed up with a new wife, he welcomed her without blinking an eye. He didn’t comment on their sleeping arrangements, nor did he share the information with anyone. What happened in the Kramer/Hale household, stayed there.
Tilly was a good listener and a good friend whose loyalty was unshakable; he kept his opinions to himself but when asked, was a fountain of good advice. In other words, he was the perfect housekeeper.
“I dusted the living room and changed the towels in the downstairs guest bathroom.”
“Neither of which was necessary.” Sawyer felt a wave of guilt. Tilly kept the house immaculate. “I’m sorry for asking.”
“Beck’s fault,” he declared. “Should know better than to drop a guest on you at the last minute. Someone from his music days?”
“Joplin Ashford. She handled every little detail for Razor’s Edge when they were on tour. Practically perfect, according to Beck.”
Tilly didn’t seem impressed, a fact that raised Sawyer’s spirits considerably.
“A few nerves are natural. But if I hear you let her intimidate you?”
“Yes?”
“Was gonna say I’d kick your ass.” Tilly let out one of his patented booming laughs, the infectious kind guaranteed to make Sawyer smile. “Only time I hit a woman was in a bar in Katmandu. Tried to talk her down, but she pulled a knife the size of her right arm.”
“What did you do?”
“Decked her,” he said with a matter-of-fact shrug only he could pull off. “What else?”
“You’re the scariest teddy bear I’ve ever met, Tilly.”
“Thank you.” He winked as Ringo jumped to his feet and raced toward the front of the house. “Looks like Beck’s home.”
Sawyer licked her lips, trying to bring a little moisture to her suddenly dry mouth.
“Go,” Tilly urged her. “I’ll give everyone time to settle before I serve the drinks.”
The sound of laughter greeted Sawyer as she approached the foyer. Beck’s laugh, she realized. A woman with shoulder-length blonde hair sat on the floor, a victim of Ringo’s enthusiastic greeting.
“He likes you,” Beck said, grabbing the dog’s collar with one hand and helping Joplin to her feet with the other.
“What does he do to people he doesn’t like?”
“Growls,” Sawyer said in unison with Beck.
“Hi.” His smile wavered when he took in her dress. “You look nice. Kind of fancy.”
“I felt like dressing up.” Sawyer shrugged.
“Okay. Sawyer, I’d like you to meet Joplin Ashford.”
“Hello.” Joplin stepped forward to shake her hand. “Sorry to drop in without notice.”
“Happy to have you.”
Tall was Sawyer’s first thought. Around five-nine in her stocking feet. Gorgeous was her next impression. Whether in a room filled with supermodels or Hollywood starlets, Joplin would stand out with little effort.
“I’ll run and take a quick shower,” Beck called out, already halfway up the stairs. “Give you two a chance to get to know each other.”
“Let’s go into the living room.” Sawyer led the way. “Would you like something to dr
ink? Tilly made his famous sangria, but we have iced tea or water if you prefer.”
“Sangria sounds wonderful.” Joplin smiled. “Would you mind if I freshen up? I’m a mess.”
Joplin looked a bit disheveled but hardly what Sawyer would call a mess.
“The bathroom’s down the hall to the right.”
Joplin was only gone for a minute, long enough to comb her hair. They took their seats, drank wine, and munched on mini quiches.
“You aren’t as intimidating as I thought you’d be,” Joplin said.
Surprised, Sawyer laughed, her nerves falling away.
“I was about to say the same. You’re glossy and sophisticated. I’m—”
“Smart, funny, and beautiful,” Joplin sighed. “Being here, talking, is nice. I’ve spent the last few years cultivating clients. Unfortunately, I let my friendships lag.”
Sawyer sympathized. Until she moved to Eatonville, she was guilty of doing the same.
“Living in a small town helps. No one lets you get away with anti-social behavior.”
“I came to ask Beck for a favor. I didn’t expect to find a friend,” Joplin snorted. “Excuse me for jumping twenty steps ahead. Did I come off as desperate?”
“Only a little.” The second the teasing words left her mouth, Sawyer knew she and Joplin were destined to stay in touch. “You mentioned a favor. May I ask what kind, or is the answer too personal?”
“Joplin wants to reunite Razor’s Edge.”
Beck, dressed in khaki cargo pants and a button-down shirt, untucked and the same color gray as his eyes, joined Sawyer on the sofa. Running a hand over his still-damp hair, he poured himself a glass of sangria.
“A reunion?” Sawyer could tell Beck didn’t care for the idea, but she was intrigued. “Why now?”
Joplin explained about her uncle’s brain tumor.
“Danny Graham wants to atone for his past mistakes.” Beck frowned. “He was a calculating bastard. I don’t feel compelled to help punch his ticket to heaven.”
“What a thing to say.” Sawyer was appalled. He was usually so compassionate and willing to help anyone who asked. Cold and callous was a side of him she hadn’t seen.
“Beck’s right.” Joplin shrugged. “Danny stepped on and over a lot of people to make his mark in the entertainment industry. Staring mortality in the face was a wakeup call.”
“I have no beef with your uncle. Not really.” Beck stared into his glass. “Can’t blame him because Razor’s Edge burned too hot, too fast. We didn’t know how to handle success.”
“Kane and Morgan fell apart. You and Jax were fine.”
“Fine is relative.” He shook his head. “Only the end was hell. The journey was great. Some of the best times of my life were spent alongside those assholes.”
“What if you were still together?” Sawyer asked. “Can you see yourself as a rock god?”
“The music would be good,” Beck said. “Can’t imagine living half the year on the road. The late nights, the constant pull on my time. Not to mention the lack of privacy.”
“Jax doesn’t mind.”
Beck sent Joplin a half-smile.
“Know what I thought the first time I laid eyes on Jaxon Cross? That guy has superstar written all over him. Figured my best path to success was to grab onto his coattails and enjoy the ride.”
“Beck sells himself short,” Joplin told Sawyer. “With the right management, he could have gone a long way on his own.”
“Straight to the middle,” he said without rancor.
“You’re happy here? On a different path?”
“I am,” Beck told Joplin. But his eyes were on Sawyer. “Everyday. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
Sawyer’s breath caught in her throat; her pulse pounded so hard she wondered how her heart managed to stay in her chest. Did Beck mean her? Was she part of his dream? Or was she fooling herself by reading too much into his words?
“Should I leave you two alone?” Joplin asked.
So many emotions flashed through Beck’s gray eyes, Sawyer couldn’t follow them all. Panic? Anger? Each flowed with dizzying speed, one after another. Finally, he seemed to settle on resignation.
“Why would we want to be alone?” he asked.
Again, his eyes weren’t focused on Joplin, but on Sawyer. More of a challenge than a question, she opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out. Rather than look like a fish gasping for a breath, she snapped her lips shut.
When Beck finally moved his gaze to Joplin, his expression was pure annoyance.
“Any other questions you want answered?”
“Yes.” Joplin turned to Sawyer. “You’re the expert. Why do all my houseplants die?”
Joplin’s quick, expert change of subject was followed by a smirk which seemed to tick Beck off even more. Sawyer had the opposite reaction. She snorted, then coughed in a lame attempt to hide her amusement.
“Dinner’s ready.” Tilly came to the rescue with his usual perfect timing. “Everything’s dished up. I’ll leave you to serve dessert and coffee. Unless you need me to stay.”
“We’ll be fine. Thank you, Tilly.” Sawyer gave the big man a hug. “Have a good night.”
The meal was delicious, the conversation between Sawyer and Joplin lively, without any awkward pauses. By nature, Beck was an easy-going man and by the time they finished their salad, his good humor had returned. They ate their meal and enjoyed each other’s company.
“I need one Beck story from his Razor’s Edge days.” Sawyer poured Joplin’s coffee and handed her a piece of Tilly’s chocolate cake. “Something I wouldn’t find online.”
“Careful,” Beck warned his old friend. His expression was gruff, but the twinkle in his eyes told a different story. “Didn’t you sign a non-disclosure agreement before we went on tour?”
“I did not,” Joplin said. “And the tales I could tell would make me a fortune from the book bidding wars alone. I imagine you still get tell-all offers?”
“Constantly at first.” Beck nodded. “Now, maybe four or five times a year. My lawyer would know.”
“I know your music is still popular.” Fascinated, Sawyer absently licked the frosting from her fork. “But five years have passed. What could you possibly say that would be of interest?”
“About me? Nothing,” Beck said with a shrug. “For some reason, the story of why the band broke up is still a hot topic.”
“You know why,” Joplin chided with a small smile.
“Because Jaxon Cross started out as lead singer of Razor’s Edge and now, he’s a superstar?” Sawyer was certain she’d hit on the answer.
“Jax is only part of the reason,” Joplin said. “Everything he does from the kind of car he drives to who he dates is news. When Entertainment Weekly reported his favorite toothpaste, Wall Street went crazy. The brand’s stock jumped through the roof.”
“For all that’s holy,” Beck scoffed. “Somebody made a fortune because Jax prefers to brush his pearly whites with peppermint flavor as opposed to spearmint? Unbelievable.”
“How do you know?” Sawyer inquired.
“Know what?”
“The flavor of toothpaste Jaxon Cross prefers?”
“We practically lived in each other’s back pockets for over three years. I know he eats his French fries drenched in black pepper and the type of condom he uses; details stuck by osmosis, not by choice.”
Sawyer knew she shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t resist.
“What type of condom does Jax use?”
Joplin looked at Beck and snickered. His lips twitched and a second later, they were laughing so hard, tears ran down their cheeks. Sawyer didn’t find her question quite as hysterical, but she couldn’t help joining in.
“Sawyer Hale,” Beck chuckled again, wiping his cheeks. “Intrepid landscaper by day, fangirl by night. Who knew?”
“I’m not a fangirl. Exactly.” She rolled her eyes when
he raised an eyebrow. “Before we met, fame and celebrity were foreign concepts. They existed on a different planet, far, far away.”
“And now?”
“You’re my husband.” Rarely said aloud, she was surprised how easily the title rolled off her tongue. Beck’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t comment. Sawyer held his gaze and chose her next words with careful deliberation. “Husband and friend. Naturally, I’m interested in your past, your present, and your future.”
“Makes sense to me.” Joplin jumped in, filling the sudden silence. “Most people go their whole lives without meeting someone famous. Sawyer lives with a rock star. Why wouldn’t she be curious?”
“Ex-rock star. Barely,” Beck corrected.
“You toured as the opening act for The Ryder Hart Band. You wrote a number one song. The debut album you recorded with Razor’s Edge is still on the charts.” Joplin ticked Beck’s accomplishments off on her fingers. “Sounds like rock star territory to me.”
Beck shrugged, but Sawyer could see the glint of pride in his eyes. His life was full, he loved his job and his hometown. He didn’t need to feed on his past glories to feel like a big man.
Still, the band’s history would always be part of his DNA. In her eyes, he deserved every accolade and every pat on the back.
“The main reason publishers and gossip rags keep trying to get the full story on how and why Razor’s Edge broke up is the mystery. A band on the brink of superstardom suddenly breaks up with no apparent reason. Nobody talked then. Nobody’s talked since.”
“And nobody ever will,” Beck said with complete conviction.
“How can you be sure?” Sawyer asked.
“They were my friends, my family,” he explained with a shrug. “I just know.”
“Your faith has been rewarded for a long time. No reason to believe anyone will change their tune at this late date.” With a devilish smile, Joplin pushed aside her empty dessert plate. “Now, what was Sawyer’s original question?”
“I can’t remember,” Beck said, his eyes warning Joplin to tread carefully. She ignored him.
“Sawyer wanted a Beck story. Something unknown to the general public. Unknown—” Joplin paused for dramatic effect. “—until now.”
“Why?” He covered his eyes and groaned. “Women are evil. I need more men in my life.”
ALMOST BLUE Page 15