by Quinn, Cari
This little town had given him that.
And the town had also given him Izzy.
At the very least, the promise of something more with a woman beyond panic and dread. Hell, for the last eight months he’d holed up after the shows. It had been so long since he’d even entertained the thought of letting a woman get close to him, let alone in his bed. The real question was…could he take a chance on it?
Eleven
Bella hurried down Main Street. She had a meeting with Cam in three minutes and was behind schedule. She also had to go down and see what was happening with the second night of rehearsals at the barn. Sharon had cornered her in the middle of the afternoon to nail down the specifics for the vendors. And every client she’d ever cultivated needed some rare book—at least it felt like they did.
All in all, she’d been running since six that morning with no signs of slowing. Thank God, Nic could cover the books and Adam was a wizard at research, and taking care of customers at the same time. Dr. Multitasker was his self-proclaimed title. And this week she’d give him the moniker without any grief.
What she wanted was to hide out in her basement with a bottle of wine and her sweats. She wanted to be the one to find the first edition of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale and to fly to the auction for a vintage illustrated version of Snow White signed by Walt Disney. Even just to see those old pages…
She sighed and picked up her pace. Priorities didn’t include fun this week. And driving into New York for the auction was just not in the cards.
“Bella, over here.”
She smiled as Cam waved at her. He’d become one of her best friends since she’d moved to town. She skirted the pile of lumber strewn across the grass. She frowned. That should not be there. They’d finished the main stage in the park the afternoon before. Cam had been working on the barn for the last two days.
“What happened?”
“Had a little issue with one of the Richardson boys. He and his friends were showing off and punched a hole through the side of the stage.” At her climbing eyebrows, he laughed. “Don’t worry, he’s earning his keep.”
“Did you still have lumber?”
“You know me, Bella. I always have extra.” He crossed his arms. “And as punishment they’re doing three Habitat houses with me.”
“I do love your evil side.” She pulled out her phone. “You ready to do this?”
He unholstered his tablet and started listing off their to-do list. With both of them on Sharon’s hit list, they’d learned to keep organized and get the specifics out of the way.
“Cotton candy machine came in from The Berkshires, so we have two of those now. And I’ve heard back from all the vendors. Everyone will be here starting at eight AM to get set-up for the opener.”
“You are, officially, my hero.” Strong and capable, Cameron had become her rock for the festival. She stepped forward and gave him an impulsive hug. “I don’t think I’d have gotten any of this done without you.”
Cameron’s arms came around her. Warmth and sawdust enveloped her. She had the strong urge to cuddle in and not let go. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed the touch and comfort. Cameron had always been that for her. On the official checklist of things she wanted from a relationship, he ticked off every damn mark.
Except one.
All she felt was comfort. She stepped back and looked up at him. That part of her that screamed to just try it, to see if she kissed him that there might be some miracle spark between them, was so freaking loud. She could see it in his eyes. He’d been subtle and never pushed, but she knew just one move from her and he’d be willing to give the more than friendship thing a try.
But she stepped back and focused a little too hard on the split piece of wood beside her foot. She made herself look up and smile. Cam didn’t deserve her waffling. He deserved a woman that would make him the one hundred percent priority. And she knew, deep inside, that comfort wasn’t enough.
His arms fell to his sides. “Well, if you don’t need me for anything, I’m going to head up to the barn for the last minute details.”
“I was heading up there myself. Johnny Cage has been added to the bill. I need to make sure the security Logan promised has arrived. It’s going to be a madhouse here starting tomorrow.”
Cam searched her face for a moment, then pressed his lips together.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Not my place.”
She sighed. “Let me have it. I can take it.”
“You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“With what?”
“Don’t play stupid, Bella. It doesn’t suit you.”
She crossed her arms over her middle, twisting her fingers around the strap of her purse. “I’m trying my damnedest to be professional. I thought I was succeeding.”
“You are. And I like Logan. He’s a great guy. I’ve known him for a long time.”
She blinked up at him. “You have?” She’d known that Logan came into town relatively regularly, but she’d been living there for almost a year and had never seen him. She just assumed that he kept pretty private.
“I helped build his cabin with Jacob. He’s a good guy. Funny and irreverent. Can go shot for shot with Jacob Stack for whisky and that’s saying something.”
Surprised, she relaxed a little. She’d seen Logan in the barn and thought he was part of the crew, so it shouldn’t be that out of the realm. “Wow.”
“He came here as a young adult. Broke down on Main Street when his fancy car shit the bed. He ended up stranded here for a few days. This was before he started All the King’s Men. Right after his first band had fallen apart.”
“Right. I remember he used to do the boyband stuff. I didn’t start listening until…” she trailed off. She’d been able to hide that side of her from the festival. The whole town didn’t need to know that Logan had been one of her favorite musicians.
Cam just laughed and shook his head. “I own a few albums. No need to be embarrassed about it.”
“He’s a household name. When he released ‘Tipping Mark’ I was officially sunk.”
“Helluva lot different than the bleach-tipped kid doing mall tours back in the day.”
She laughed. “I was listening to Foo Fighters and Stone Sour.”
“Teen Bella was a little headbanger. I didn’t know that.” Cam tipped his baseball hat back. “Always a surprise.”
“Oh, if you’d have seen me in the city as a teen.” Her smile fell away. She’d been a wild child because no one had ever given a damn where she was. As long as her grades were good, she’d been off her parents’ radar.
He searched her face for a moment. “Let’s walk and talk.”
She nodded and they fell into step. The last minute hammering, volunteers setting up canvas pop-ups against the wicked sun that had been warned for tomorrow, and laughter faded as they made their way up to the barn from the back trail.
“So what was he like?”
“He was a bit of a punk kid. But back then, so was I.”
“Cam, you were born with the word responsible on your tongue.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.”
She grinned and carefully picked her way up the trail.
“Oh, shit—er, shoot. I’m sorry. I didn’t even pay attention that you were wearing a dress and girl shoes. We could have gone up Main and over.”
“I grew up in the concrete jungle, buddy. I can walk in heels up a cliff if I have to.”
“Well, I can’t. So don’t break anything.”
“I won’t.” The night hadn’t cooled off in the least, so she’d opted for the kelly green cotton dress and sandals. So, her sandals had four inch heels—she was short dammit.
“We gave Logan shit about his history, but it turned out that he was really cool. And he was a damn hard worker. He had this ridiculously expensive car, but barely had a dime to his name. So he worked off the car charges at Jacob’s farm. A few years
later he moved here and hired local to build his house.”
“Well, that’s rather cool.”
“The cool part was that he insisted on learning how to do everything. And man, did Jacob give him the shit jobs to do. He didn’t complain once. He’s become a damn good carpenter.”
She was glad it was dark, because she was pretty sure she’d dropped her jaw on the path. Reconciling the idea of Logan the millionaire, the man with the sad and hungry eyes, and now a guy who had come looking for some sort of meaning in building a house, left her reeling. He was supposed to be a spoiled rock star with a harem of women.
Not this.
Not a man who grew more intriguing every hour.
Voices floated down the path, reminding her that she had a job to do. The growing fascination with Logan was just going to have to wait. The crowd of people was much further back this time. Two black SUV’s were parked in a V-shape near the entrance to the barn. The steel barriers were also new.
Evidently the security detail had arrived. She circumvented the fifty or so people that had crowded around and headed to the woman with a clipboard. Halogen lamps were set up at each end of the make-shift gate, illuminating the entire area.
“Hi. I’m Isabella Grace.”
The woman gave her a bored look then checked the tablet in her hand. A hint of surprise flickered over her face, but was quickly masked. “And you, sir?”
“Cameron Harding.”
She nodded and another man, at the end of a section of the gate, slid the barrier open. They had to make it through two more checkpoints before they even got to the doorway that lead to the front of the barn.
Evidently Roth Defense didn’t mess around on security. A little of the tension that had been strangling her since Logan had taken over the barn, melted away. Drums and a low, buzzy bassline vibrated the air.
A new voice crooned into the night. She frowned and picked up the pace to the doorway. She found Logan immediately. He was on the floor like an audience member. Pensive face, arms folded as he dragged the nail of his thumb over his lower lip again and again. No one else was around him.
Everything inside of her tingled to life. He was in unrelieved black, both dress pants and a tailored shirt. Every inch of him was in work mode. Intelligent eyes focused on the stage, actively listening. She’d never seen someone actually do that. No fiddling, no distractions, no checking his phone—just completely and utterly focused.
Reminder number one that he wasn’t just any man. This was Logan King, veteran musician. And the mood in the room was completely different than last night. No fooling around, tighter playing, and a new addition on the stage.
She forced her eyes off of Logan and the unsettled feeling that was pinging around her chest. Johnny Cage sat on a stool, a scarred acoustic guitar settled on his lap. She didn’t recognize this voice. She knew the bombastic anthems and pub crawl songs from his band, Rebel Rage.
Nothing like this.
He was curled over his guitar, his lips butted against a mic with his eyes closed. The song was loss. There was no other word for it. It was pure sadness with a rough edge to it that made her feel like she was intruding on something painfully intimate.
Cam flicked a finger over her arm to let her know that he was moving on. She found herself gravitating to Logan. Each note climbed inside her and squeezed. It wasn’t a song to be alone with. It wasn’t an easy song in any way, but it was a powerful one. When the last note hummed through the room, she finally took a breath.
“Fuck, yeah,” Logan muttered. He seemed to blink out of whatever trance he’d been in and scanned the room. When his eyes tripped over her, he closed the distance between them. “I didn’t think you were going to make it, Izzy.” He nodded to the stage. “You’re missing magic.”
She had the strongest urge to pull back, but fought it. She wasn’t going to let this man affect her tonight. Be strong. “So I see, or hear, actually.”
“You keep things so close to the vest, but I think I saw a little bit of thawing there. This is going to be a great show and you know it.”
“I never said it wouldn’t be.”
He stepped even closer and that distracting dichotomy of fresh sheets and sandalwood curled around her like a caress. Even in her heels she had to peer up at him. His jaw and neck were shadowed with stubble, drawing her eye down to the triangle of skin showing. The trio of freckles made her mouth water and the tip of her tongue flicked over her lower lip.
The low groan that slid out of Logan didn’t help.
Johnny started up another song, dragging her out of the moment. She tried to walk around him and Logan lightly braceleted her wrist, holding her in place.
“Iz.”
The crisp cotton of his shirt sent a shudder down her bare arm and tightened her nipples. One minor touch and her body was such a damn traitor. She’d promised herself to put this stupidity aside last night.
It was a whisper soft song that Johnny shared with Lindsey. It was the kind of song that urged lovers together to sway in that mindless way that made the room fall away. The kind of song that allowed lovers to disappear into the shadows to let the touches grow bolder.
The heartbeat kick drum echoed her own.
“Logan.” His name was barely a breath. “Don’t. There’s a room full of people.”
“One word and I can clear out this place.”
She snapped her gaze up to his. She saw the absolute truth there in his steady green eyes. “We have work to do.”
“I did all my work. And you work too much.”
“Do you have three finalized setlists in my email, as well as the schedule for all your musician friends at the main stage?”
“Yes.”
“Rehearsals are complete?”
“We finished an hour ago. Cage was just showing me one of his new songs. He wants to play a set in the barn.”
“Lighting, electronics, whatever you use for your instruments. All of that?”
“This isn’t my first show, Izzy. Nor is it my first time playing at the festival.” He leaned into her enough that his breath fanned across her cheek. “Play with me tonight. Stay here with me when everyone else leaves.”
“I need to get back. I have a million things to do.”
He turned her cheek toward the back of the room where Cam was herding out the last of the volunteers. The overhead lights dimmed, leaving only the handful of spotlights focused on the stage.
Cam gave her a light tip of his baseball hat and left through the back door. The creak of the metal locks engaging dissolved under the slamming truck doors and spitting gravel outside.
She slipped out of his hold and crossed the newly stained floor to the group of people she’d met last night. The farther she got from Logan, the more she could think. She smiled at Lindsey and tried to ignore the heavy air blanketing her shoulders. The humidity hadn’t broken after sunset like it usually did this time of year.
“You two sounded amazing.”
Lindsey’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve never had so much fun trying out new songs.”
“It shows.” She slid her gaze to the new addition. Wide shoulders filled out a threadbare t-shirt with Elvis scrawled across his chest. His skin was the sort of tan that spoke of tropical temperatures. Even his hair and eyes had a dusting of gold to him. His eerily clean-shaven face at ten at night was a bit weird. Compared to the rest of the musicians on the ticket, he was positively baby smooth. “Thanks so much for joining us early, Mr. Cage.”
“Logan bellows and we all come running.”
“Is that right?” Bella turned to find Logan right behind her. She faced the stage and tried to ignore him.
“Cage wanted the exposure, don’t let him fool you.”
That voice. So dark and smooth right above her ear. He was close enough to touch if she just backed up a single step.
Play with me.
Those words were going to haunt her. There was no playing with a man like Logan. There was burning and the
re was scarring. She had enough scars dammit and yet she didn’t want to go. Being around him made her feel alive, and the tension between them might just fizzle out when they did…everything.
At this point, the only way she could get him out of her system was to go all in. She’d deal with the fallout when he left. Because his kind always left.
But he was here now.
She reached back and curved her fingers around the back of his thigh with a gentle squeeze then dropped her hand back to her side. He stilled behind her with an indrawn breath.
Let the games begin.
Twelve
Logan swallowed a groan. He half expected to go home tonight with the saddest case of blue balls in history. He was willing to wait. The idea of seducing and teasing her into the possibility of a night with him was worth the effort.
With one touch, he was hard enough to wish for a deserted island and unlimited time with her.
Johnny snapped his guitar case closed. “I’m ready to get out of here. I’m still on L.A. time. I’m also hungry enough to eat my damn guitar.”
“Valentine’s is staying open late for all the volunteers pulling all-nighters for tomorrow. They make a killer short stack. Or, even better, the best fries and gravy I’ve ever had.” Lindsey rubbed her hands together. “You’ll love Sam and Dee.”
“It is our one eating establishment in town, but the food is exceptional.” Izzy swayed lightly and her ass brushed along the tops of Logan’s thighs. She turned her face up to him. “Hungry?”
The smile was there, hinting at the edges of her mouth, but it was her eyes that urged him to get them out of there faster. Topaz fire. Whatever she did with her make-up seemed to accentuate the bronze of her summer skin and emphasize her eyes.
“No, we have a few things to discuss,” Logan said. Christ, was that his voice? He sounded like he’d gargled with hot sauce.
Johnny’s lips twitched as he urged Lindsey out in front of him. “All right, bombshell, how about you show me these gravy fries.”
Lindsey looked between Logan and Izzy, then smiled. “We’ll leave you kids to it.”