Sweet Harmony

by LuAnn McLane

  Jeff laughed. “I love you, Mom.”

  “Even if I can’t sing?”

  “Unconditionally.”

  “Oh, Jeffrey, I hope I helped if only a little bit.” She put her finger and thumb an inch apart. “It was much easier when I could fix your problems with a Band-Aid and a purple Popsicle.”

  “You helped me more than you realize,” he said and felt a warm rush of emotion.

  “Just know that we love you and we will always be here for you. You can count on that if all else fails.”

  “I know. And believe me, that helps too.” Jeff stood up. “But I’ll never turn down a purple Popsicle.” He stretched the kinks out of his neck. “I need to get going.”

  When his mother stood up, Jeff pulled her in for a hug. She smelled like strawberries and felt like the warm love that only a mother could give.

  “I’m so glad you stopped by. Your dad is going to be sorry he missed you. Of course, he would have been quiet and nodded while I chattered away. I might be a firecracker, but that man is a rock.”

  “I knew where I needed to come. No matter where I go, it always feels good to come home.” He chuckled. “How come I didn’t know you were so smart back when I was a teenager?”

  She pointed at him. “Good question. I could have saved you a lot of trouble.” She laughed. “Of all the children, you really are the daredevil.” She pointed a finger at him. “You always had to learn the hard way, as your father would tell you.”

  “I’m a hands-on kind of learner.” Jeff kissed his mother on the cheek. “I’ll be here on Sunday with Cat. And save me some of that jam.”

  “Will do.”

  Jeff left the farmhouse chock-full of the sense of purpose his mother talked about. He loved Cat. And he couldn’t imagine not choosing to team up with her for Sweet Harmony. After all, Rick Ruleman and Maria Sully were legends in the music industry. He needed to listen to them. The thought of singing, recording, and traveling with her made him smile.

  But it wasn’t going to be easy telling the band his decision. The very thought made his stomach churn. “Choose the one that means the most to you,” Jeff repeated. When he got in his truck he realized he’d left his phone sitting on the middle console. The screen blinked with a missed call from Snake. Jeff thought about calling him back, but he didn’t want to clutter his brain with anything else before talking to Cat. Snake could wait.

  Jeff pulled his truck into his own driveway and then walked up the road to Cat’s cabin. He raised his hand to knock on the front door, but then he heard her singing. Jeff followed the sweet sound around the porch and then stopped in his tracks. Cat sat cross-legged in the middle of the deck, strumming on her guitar. She wore faded jeans, a white tank top, and as usual her feet were bare. The messy bun perched on top of her head slid a little bit sideways when she tilted her head and strummed a few more chords. With a sigh she picked up a notepad and wrote a few lines and then bent her head back to her task.

  And then she sang.

  Her voice, pure and sweet, washed over Jeff like warm summer rain. Closing his eyes, he lifted his face as if to catch the beauty of the words sliding across the breeze to swirl around him. Soft and sultry, she sang about love lost but then found somewhere on the edge of the ocean. Jeff swallowed hard and suddenly realized that she was combining her love of the sand and the sea with something deeper and meaningful. He could feel her passion, hear her emotion, and he smiled. Cat Carson was finding her true voice.

  Jeff shook his head, pissed at himself for dismissing her talent as fluff and unworthy of his listening. What a snob he’d been. And how damned stupid was Matt Stanford for letting such talent go? But then with a grin Jeff thought he should give the man a call and thank him, because his stupidity had brought Cat to Cricket Creek and to the cabin next to his.

  Jeff took a step forward but Cat started singing again. Afraid of interrupting her creative moment, he stood still and listened. In his head, he harmonized with her.

  Sweet harmony.

  Yes.

  When she bent her head forward, she exposed the gentle curve of her neck. Jeff wanted to put a kiss on that vulnerable spot. And he wanted to kiss her bare shoulder. He wanted to make love to her, outside, on the deck with nature all around. He wanted her soft sighs to blend with the breeze while she wrapped her legs around him… .

  And a groan escaped his mouth.

  Cat raised her head and their eyes met. She put her guitar to the side and watched him approach. Neither of them spoke when he sat down next to her and pulled her onto his lap.

  When she wrapped her arms around his neck, Jeff kissed her, and passion ignited like a match dropped in dry straw.

  Their tongues met, tangled, dipped, tasted, and savored. Jeff kissed her hotly, deeply. He wanted her with an intensity that blew him away. They spoke, but not with words.

  A quick gasp.

  A low moan.

  A soft sigh.

  Cat threaded her fingers in his hair and leaned back, giving him access to her breasts, free from a bra. He licked through the thin cotton, making the material wet, and when her nipple pebbled beneath his tongue he sucked it into his mouth. He cupped her other breast in his hand and when he heard her breath catch he nibbled lightly. With a little cry of pleasure she pressed his head closer and then moved seductively against him.

  Needing more, Jeff tugged her shirt over her head and then slid his tongue against her soft, warm skin until she gasped. “I want you naked.”

  “I want me naked.” She fumbled with the snap on her jeans, laughing breathlessly until he helped. She turned sideways, knocking over her glass of tea but letting it roll.

  Leaning over, Jeff helped her shed her jeans and made quick work of removing his own clothes. An instant later she straddled him once more. He arched upward and she sank down, gasped, and their moans blended together. She gripped his shoulders and Jeff let her set the slow and steady pace that had his heart pounding. He understood. She wanted to make this last, let the pleasure rise, build like the crescendo in music.

  As she moved faster, Jeff braced his hands on the wooden deck and then leaned back so he could watch the play of emotion on her face. When she bit her bottom lip and moaned deeply, Jeff thought he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Leaning forward, he wrapped his arms around her while pleasure ripped through him.

  Her thighs trembled and she collapsed against him, putting her head on his shoulder. Jeff held her tightly, thinking he never wanted to let her go.

  Finally, she spoke. “Jeff, I didn’t expect …” she began, but he put a fingertip to her lips.

  “Don’t worry—it’s totally private here. And that was amazing. You’re amazing.” He smiled. “Let’s go inside. I want to ask you something.”

  She nodded but then leaned her head against his chest. “There’s something I want to tell you too.” Her voice, though muffled, against his chest sounded emotional. He pulled back and looked into her eyes.

  An odd feeling settled in Jeff’s stomach, but he nodded. “Okay.”

  Cat leaned in and kissed him softly, sweetly, but her smile trembled at the corners. He knew he must be overreacting, but the kiss felt like …

  Good-bye.

  23

  Ticket to Ride

  CAT TUGGED HER CLOTHES ON AS QUICKLY AS SHE COULD manage with shaking fingers. She could feel Jeff’s confusion radiating off him but she shook it off. She shouldn’t have fallen into his arms, but she just couldn’t help it. All it took was just one kiss. She’d rehearsed what she was going to say, but now the words seemed to stick in her throat. But she knew she was doing the right thing. Wasn’t she? Then why did it hurt so much?

  “Can I get you something? Water? Sweet tea?”

  “Bourbon?” His smile appeared strained.

  “Actually, I think I have a bottle.” She looked in the pantry on the shelf where she kept liquor and reached for a bottle of Buffalo Trace. “You want it neat? Over ice? Mixed with Coke?”

 
; “Southern boys don’t mix good bourbon with Coke,” Jeff said. “Two fingers and a couple of cubes of ice, please.”

  “Coming right up.” Cat nodded, then poured one for him and one for herself. They each took a sip in silence.

  “So I guess what you’re going to tell me has something to do with the suitcase sitting in the living room.”

  Cat took another sip, licked her bottom lip, and nodded. “I have some business out of town.”

  Jeff nodded to a formal dress draped over the back of the sofa. “Doesn’t look a lot like business.”

  Cat shrugged but didn’t want to elaborate. The fact that she was going to sing at a wedding for a woman who might not live to see her first anniversary was neither here nor there where all this was concerned. In fact, letting him think the worst might help the situation right now. The stormy look in his eyes made her heart clench, but she pressed forward knowing that this was breaking them up. But she’d rather do it now than later, when he missed his band and blamed her for it. Plus, Jax was right. Opening for Shane McCray was a huge honor and their dream until she’d waltzed into Cricket Creek and threw a monkey wrench into the whole plan. No … she had to do this. Inhaling a bracing breath, she took another sip of the bourbon and then said, “I had a talk with Maria and Rick this morning about our collaboration.”

  Jeff looked at her in silence. “And?”

  Cat took a bigger swallow of bourbon, letting the burn slide all the way to her stomach. “I … I know that ‘Second Chances’ is shooting up the charts, and I’m so thrilled.” She inhaled a shaky breath, unable to get the next words past her lips.

  “Me too. Go on,” Jeff prompted.

  “In spite of that, I’ve given it careful thought and I’ve decided that I want to keep my career separate,” she said, wondering how she kept her voice from cracking.

  Jeff looked down at his glass and then back over at her. “Why?”

  Cat hesitated. “You know why.”

  “I think you need to enlighten me.”

  “Okay.” She was so damned bad at lying, but she couldn’t tell him that when she started to walk into the studio for her meeting with Rick and Maria she’d overheard Jax Pike telling the rest of South Street Riot that hell would freeze over before he would become part of Sweet Harmony. He’d gone on to say he’d rather dig ditches, which quite frankly she thought was going a bit overboard. Snake started arguing and Colin had to come between them and break up what looked like it could turn physical. She replayed the exchange in her head once more:

  “Shane McCray wants Jeff Greenfield and South Street Riot, not some lame-ass Sweet fucking Harmony. I mean, seriously? We’re dudes,” Jax had nearly shouted. “Who has a name like that?”

  “Well, Sugarland and Lady Antebellum are names of successful bands that come to mind,” Colin had pointed out. “And we would still be South Street Riot, Jax.”

  “So, you suggesting we turn Shane down?” Jax argued. “It’s our dream. Well, it was our dream until Cat Carson came along. I mean, I have nothing against her. In fact, I like her. I just don’t want to do this. I won’t do this.”

  “Are you forgetting about the megahit record they have right now?” Snake said. “That we have right now?”

  “Yeah, well, we could have sold out a long time ago with some pop-sounding crap but we stuck to our guns. I’m still sticking to mine,” Jax said flatly. “All I want to do is what we set out to do. Why am I the bad guy here?”

  Cat’s heart pounded just thinking about it again. She wasn’t about to be the reason that South Street Riot broke up. The thought that Jeff could later hold her responsible made her feel almost ill.

  “Cat?” Jeff prompted, drawing her back to the present. “Are you going to answer me?”

  Cat wished she could be honest and tell him what she’d overheard, but that would likely cause even more internal drama. No, she needed to bow out before all hell broke loose. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, hoping he didn’t see her fingers tremble. “I already did. I want to be Cat Carson. Not … not Sweet Harmony.” Thank God she got that out without bursting into tears—once she started crying, it was always quite the event. “And I have to … um … get going soon, so …”

  “Are you kidding me?” Cat saw a muscle jump in Jeff’s jaw. “What just happened out there on the deck, Cat?” He shoved his fingers through his hair.

  Cat’s mouth moved but no words came out.

  “I thought we loved each other. I just told my mother I was going to ask you to Sunday dinner.”

  Cat felt as if her heart was physically getting ripped from her chest. “I’ll be out of town Sunday.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To a wedding.”

  He glanced over at the dress that she was going to sing in. “Wait… . so do you have a date?”

  “I …” She tried but faltered.

  “I guess that means yes? God. I’m such a flaming idiot. So was this just fun and games to you? Are you even staying in Cricket Creek?”

  “I … I don’t know.” She hadn’t thought past not wrecking his career, his dream. “Jeff, don’t you see that this is easier this way?” She wondered why he didn’t mention the offer to open for Shane McCray.

  “Wow.” Jeff tossed back the rest of the bourbon. “Well, you sure had me fooled.” He slammed the glass down with a hard clink and then turned toward the door. He stopped when his hand was on the doorknob. If he turned around Cat knew she would fly into his arms and deal with the consequences later. But he twisted the handle and walked out the door.

  And out of her life?

  Cat stood there, stunned. She knew this was going to be hard, but the pain that ripped through her was more than she could bear. And then, with a soft cry of complete anguish, she sank to the floor. With her head cradled in her hands, she started sobbing. Had she lost her ever loving mind? She loved Jeff so completely, but changing the course of his career, crushing his plans and the chance of a lifetime just wasn’t something she could do. And she could not—would not—come between him and his band, his best friends. So she needed to let him think the worst. She shouldn’t have made love to him, but she wanted that in her memory bank to fall back on on days when she missed him the most.

  Cat raised her head and swiped at her tears. She was a noisy, messy, leaky crier, but she decided she needed to get up and get herself under control. She had a wedding to sing at in Nashville tomorrow night and she should hit the road soon. Maybe after that she should keep heading south until the map turned blue. “Yes, the beach will help cheer me up,” she said, inhaling a shaky breath, but in truth she knew that nothing could cheer her up. She had just pushed the man she loved out of her life.

  She wiped her eyes with the edge of her T-shirt and winced when she saw tracks of mascara. But when she looked at the suitcase, it reminded her of the night she and Jeff had met, and she started blubbering all over again.

  A moment later she heard pounding on her front door. Her heart skipped a beat. Was Jeff coming back? “Dear God, I am one hot mess. He can’t see me like this!”

  Cat tried to scramble to her feet but she failed and sort of stumbled toward the door, which suddenly swung open.

  “Cat?” Maria hurried over and grabbed Cat’s arm. “What’s wrong? You smell like bourbon. Are you drunk?”

  “No, but that’s a dandy idea.” She sank to the floor in a fresh heap of tears and Maria sat down beside her.

  “Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong?” She patted her on the head and the kind gesture made Cat cry even harder.

  “I … I … I … told Jeff that I didn’t want to do Sweet Harmony because I wanted my career separate”—she paused for three short sniffs—“and that I was moving aaaaa … waaaay.”

  “Why on earth did you do such a thing?”

  “Be … because his band was going to break up over the whole thing and on … on … on top of that, Shane McCray wants Jeff and South S-Street R-Riot to o-open for h-him.” She raised her head f
rom her knees and looked at Maria. “I—I h-had no choice,” she said in a voice filled with doom and lots of gloom.

  “There are always choices.”

  “N-never the right ones.”

  “Okay, you have to stop.”

  “Making the wrong choices? I knoooow.”

  “No, I mean you have to stop crying so we can figure this out.”

  “I c-can’t. I g-get like this wh-when I cry. It’s m-messy.” She looked at Maria but then sat up straighter and gulped. “Wait. Maria, are you … Have you been c-crying too?”

  “Pffft.” Maria waved a dismissive hand. “Of course not.”

  “Really?” Cat narrowed her eyes and looked closer. “Yes, you have. Your mascara is smeared and you are always, like, perfect.”

  “I had something fly into my eye. A bug or something—” Maria insisted but her comment ended with a tiny sniff giving her away.

  “What?” Cat brought her knees up to her chest and let out a shaky sigh. “Tell me.”

  “This requires a little nip of that bourbon of yours,” Maria said, but when Cat made a clumsy attempt to stand up Maria put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”

  “’Kay.”

  A moment later Maria returned with the glasses of bourbon. “Do you want to sit on the sofa instead of leaning against it on the floor?”

  Cat didn’t even consider it. “No, this is the position of sadness. When I have a crying jag I have to do it someplace uncomfortable. It’s usually on the bathroom floor so I don’t have far to go if I have to pee.”

  “Smart thinking,” Maria said with a tired half chuckle and then joined her.

  Cat took a sip of her drink. “So, Maria, what’s wrong?”

  “Pete asked me to marry him. He even had a—” She swallowed and then said, “A ring.”

  “Ohmigosh! So those were happy tears? I love happy tears.” Cat put a hand to her chest. “That’s wonderful. Let me see,” Cat said, but then frowned at Maria’s empty ring finger. “Oh … you said no? Are you serious?”