ALMOST HOME

by Williams, Mary J.

  “Great. Thanks. I—” Joplin frowned, annoyed when Kane crossed his arms as though waiting for something. Tapping her fingers on the table, she frowned. “What?”

  “Just wondered if you still popped lemon drops when you’re nervous.” He nodded toward her purse. “You used to carry what seemed like a bottomless supply.”

  “I’m not nervous,” Joplin insisted, lying for no good reason. She didn’t care what Kane remembered about her—or didn’t. Yet, as she swallowed, what was left of the lemon drop she’d popped before he arrived slid down her throat.

  “Agitated, anxious.” He smiled slightly. “Irritated.”

  “Again,” Joplin said, reminding herself not to grit her teeth. “I’m not any of those things.”

  “No judgment. We all had our crutches. I used drugs, alcohol, sex. And a few other vices better left unspoken.”

  Joplin blinked in surprise. Her job had been to watch over Razor’s Edge and while she fell short more often than she liked to remember, at the time, she thought she knew everything about Kane’s past misadventures.

  Pretty certain she didn’t want to know but unable to help herself, Joplin looked into his dark eyes and braced herself.

  “What other vices?”

  “Nope.” Kane shook his head. “Better I keep the details to myself—to protect the innocent.”

  “Innocent?” Joplin scoffed.

  Lips twitching, Kane shrugged.

  Joplin’s stomach did a slow roll. Some things had changed, but Kane’s ability to draw her into his web of easy charm hadn’t. They used to talk for hours, sometimes all night until the blush of day broke across the eastern sky. First about nothing, then, about everything. Enemies to friends. In love, but never lovers.

  No, Joplin warned herself as she put a screeching halt to her musings. She wasn’t here to reminisce. She was given a task by her uncle—the last wish of a dying man. Meeting with Kane meant she was at the end of her journey into the past.

  Still, Joplin couldn’t help thinking about those days, just a little longer.

  “You’re right about crutches,” she said. “All the members of Razor’s Edge had them. Jax sank into the music, Skye buried herself in a book. Morgan ran, mile after freaking mile.”

  “Chased by his own personal demons,” Kane agreed. “Then there was Beckett. The most even-keeled person I’ve ever known. Hell, nothing bothered our talented drummer. I envied his laidback attitude.”

  “I never asked.” Thoughtful, Joplin turned her head to the side. “He was Beck to everyone. Yet, you insisted on using his full name. Why?”

  “Because I was a contrary asshole,” Kane admitted. “When he and I first met, I wanted to find some way to ruffle his feathers. After a while, to me, he was just Beckett. The ruffling part never worked, of course. The man was the definition of cool.”

  “Still is. Mostly.”

  Kane’s dark gaze sharpened

  “You’ve seen him? Talked to Beckett?”

  “Not just Beck,” Joplin said. “Also, Kane, Skye, and Morgan.”

  “The whole gang,” Kane said with a sigh. “Hm. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised I was last on your list.”

  “A mere coincidence,” Joplin assured him. “When Uncle Danny asked me to personally meet with each member of the band, I was in Los Angeles. Made sense to start there. You simply happened to be the farthest east.”

  Frieda arrived at their table. She set a cup in front of Kane, but her eyes were on Joplin.

  “Coffee.”

  “Thanks, Frieda.” Kane sipped the steaming liquid and sighed. “Exactly what I needed.”

  “You want something?” the bartender asked Joplin.

  “Club soda. Light on ice, extra lemon,” Kane said, surprising both women.

  “I can’t believe you remembered.” Joplin shook her head. “Most of the time you were—”

  “Bombed out of my skull?”

  “Yes,” Joplin said without hesitation.

  Kane met Joplin’s gaze, his dark eyes sharp, clear, filled with an emotion she couldn’t identify. Whatever his state of mind, hers was chaotic as her heart pounded in her chest, hard and fast.

  “Ironically, I drank to forget yet remembered everything.” Kane’s fingers tightened around the coffee cup. “The memories of you, of us? The good, the bad, the—”

  “The godawful?” Joplin said without thinking.

  Kane grinned and despite herself, she smiled back. His gaze grew darker, more intense. Joplin couldn’t have looked away if she wanted to.

  “I regret many things. The memories of you aren’t on the list.”

  Damn him, Joplin thought as, under the table, her hands balled into fists. From the beginning of her journey, Joplin knew their meeting would be difficult. Not sure what version of him she would find, she made herself a vow not to react, to remain cool and calm, whether he was angry and belligerent or charming and friendly.

  What Joplin hadn’t anticipated was something else, something new. Clean and sober, he was still charismatic and funny. But without the influence of drugs and alcohol, he exhibited a quality she’d only glimpsed once or twice before.

  Kane, 2.0, was, damn him, sweet and kind.

  Another woman, one without her experience and iron will, might be tempted to melt like butter under the heat of his dark-chocolate gaze. Not Joplin. She straightened her spine, took a deep breath, and said a silent prayer that this time tomorrow, she would be safely back in Los Angeles, away from temptation.

  A noise, half snort, half laugh, pulled Joplin from her wandering thoughts. She’d completely forgotten Frieda was still by the table, a witness to her exchange with Kane.

  “Well, I’ll be.” With a bemused smile, the bartender shook her head. “Maybe she is your type.”

  “Kane doesn’t have a type,” Joplin said automatically. Her response elicited another snort from Frieda.

  “Heard the same exact words not twenty minutes ago. From him.” She nodded toward Kane. Her smile widened. “Funny.”

  “Not really,” Joplin said. “Simply accurate.”

  “Whatever.” Frieda shrugged. “Club soda?”

  “No, thank you.” Joplin shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “Then have a good evening.” Her eyes landed on Kane. “Both of you.”

  “Frieda thinks you’re about to get lucky.”

  “Doesn’t matter what she thinks—what anyone thinks,” Kane said, sounding like his old self for the first time. “We know better.”

  “Yes, we do.” Unthinking, Joplin reached for a lemon drop, stopping herself just in time. “Sex was never our thing.”

  “No.”

  When Kane didn’t elaborate, Joplin wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. She bit her tongue before she asked how frequently his Saturday nights ended with a random hook-up.

  “How is everyone?” he asked.

  Joplin frowned as her mind filtered out the subject of Kane’s sex life in favor of a new, safer topic. Her brow cleared when she realized what he meant. Everyone consisted of his ex-bandmates. The other four members of Razor’s Edge. She gave herself a moment to consider his question before she answered.

  “Jax is—”

  “A superstar.”

  Kane said the word without a trace of envy or rancor. He seemed genuinely pleased by his old friend’s success. Joplin wasn’t surprised. For all his faults—and there were many—professional jealousy hadn’t been one of them.

  “The Jaxon Cross brand is a worldwide phenomenon,” Joplin said. “As for the man behind the image…?”

  “Go on.” Kane leaned closer as though eager for what she had to say. “Is he happy?”

  Joplin almost said the first thing that popped into the head. No, Jax wasn’t happy. He was an angry, bitter, son of a bitch. However, when she spoke, she tempered her opinion.

  “Hard to say,” she said. “I was alone with him for less than an hour.”


  “You can break down a person’s mood and character after five minutes. In an hour?” Kane chuckled. “Hell, there’s little you don’t know.”

  “True,” Joplin said. “However, you’re talking about first impressions. I know Jax—or I did. My radar gets fuzzy when personal feelings are involved.”

  “Fair enough.” Kane drained the last drop of coffee from his cup. “General impression?”

  “He wasn’t happy to see me and didn’t want to talk about the past.” Joplin shrugged. “Happy in general? I’d say yes. Jax was always ambitious. He has the drive, talent, and temperament to stay on top of the music world for decades to come.”

  “You said Beckett is pretty much the same guy. What about Skye? Morgan?”

  Joplin filled him in on some of what she knew, holding back what she didn’t think she had the right to share. If Kane wanted to know, if he cared enough, he could reach out on his own.

  Taking an envelope from her purse, she slid the paper across the table.

  “Here’s their contact information.”

  Hesitant, almost cautious, Kane picked up the envelope.

  “Including Jax’s?”

  Joplin nodded. Unlike Skye, Beck, and Morgan, Jax hadn’t given permission for her to share his private phone number or his home address. Joplin didn’t care. Kane and Jax were once closer than brothers. Five years without speaking was long enough—too long.

  The next step toward healing the rift, with a little push from Joplin, was up to Kane.

  “When I floated the idea of a Razor’s Edge reunion, the last thing I expected was for you to agree.” Feeling a bit sheepish, she cleared her throat. “Full disclosure, you’ll probably be a solo act since the rest of the band said no—unequivocally. But Danny will appreciate a song or two from one of the group’s founding members. In fact, you can—”

  “I won’t sing,” Kane said with little fanfare. “I don’t sing. Or play. Haven’t for a long time.”

  “Never?” Joplin couldn’t wrap her head around the idea.

  “No,” Kane confirmed.

  “You’re a recovering alcoholic with drug dependency issues. If you never take the stage to perform, why work in a bar?”

  “I know how to run a soundboard, and I needed the money.”

  Speechless, Joplin stared at him. Needed the money? What the hell? She knew for a fact the music he wrote by himself and with Jaxon Cross still produced sizable royalties. Five years after their breakup, several recordings by Razor’s Edge remained on the charts, not to mention the next wave of young artists who grew up listening to the band. Thanks to a certain television program, just last month, a rendition of Kane’s song, One Final Prayer, hit number one on iTunes, thanks to a soulful rendition by one of the show’s contestants.

  Joplin took a deep breath. The smell of booze with a marijuana chaser didn’t overwhelm her. Then again, she didn’t have an addiction problem. Was he out of his mind?

  “Are you out of your mind?” Joplin hissed the words. “Money can’t be an issue, so why risk all the progress you’ve made? Unless…? Oh, come on. Did the countess insist on alimony?”

  “My lack of money has nothing to do with Delilah,” Kane assured her.

  “Then why—” Joplin stopped herself. She would not fall into her old habit of trying to fix Kane Harrison’s life, especially where his ex-wife was concerned “Sorry. None of my business.”

  “I’m fine, Joplin. Honestly.” Kane’s gaze, clear and unflinching, met hers. “Better than I have a right to be.”

  Swallowing her argument that he had as much right to live a happy, healthy life as anyone else, Joplin took a second and steered herself back to the original subject.

  “Why did you give up singing?”

  Kane shrugged but didn’t answer.

  “You said yes to the Razor’s Edge reunion.”

  “I said yes to showing up, not performing.” Absently, Kane tapped the envelope Joplin gave him minutes earlier. “I owe a lot of people an apology. Face to face.”

  Kane let her believe he wanted to honor her uncle’s last wish. Instead, he planned to use the occasion to cleanse his conscience. Seemed she was wrong about him. He hadn’t changed. He was still a selfish, egotistical—

  “You’re a tease.”

  “Excuse me?” Kane frowned. “What did you call me?”

  “A tease. Always were. Always will be.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Figure it out for yourself.”

  Joplin grabbed her purse and surged to her feet.

  “Wait. You’re leaving?”

  Kane seemed surprised. He shouldn’t have been.

  Done, finished, hoping to never see Kane’s deceitful, handsome face again, Joplin took one last look, turned, and walked away. This time for good.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ♫~♫~♫

  JOPLIN WOVE HER way through the crowd, bobbing and weaving, almost hoping a drunken idiot would try to waylay her just so she could work off a bit of her anger with a swift kick to his unsuspecting balls.

  No such luck. Unchallenged, she pushed through the front door. Hot, bothered, she was greeted by a burst of cold air. A shiver vibrated through her body. The lightweight leather jacket, donned hours earlier when the temperature was a moderate sixty degrees, did little to protect her from what felt like a full-on arctic freeze.

  “Maine in October. The weather can change on a dime.”

  Joplin felt a yelp of surprise travel up her throat. She swallowed the sound along with a silent stream of curse words. Leave it to Kane to ruin her perfect exit.

  “You followed me,” she said with an outer calm she didn’t feel. “Why?”

  “Couple of reasons.” Kane stepped aside to let a new arrival enter the building. “Most important, I couldn’t let you walk to your car unescorted.”

  “For the love of…” Joplin rolled her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

  “Bar policy. When a woman leaves the bar alone, someone who works here makes certain she isn’t harassed.”

  “What if I parked just a few steps from the entrance?”

  “Did you?” he asked.

  “No,” Joplin muttered then brightened when she noticed Kane hadn’t taken time to grab his jacket.

  “You’ll freeze.”

  “Not if we get our asses in gear.” Kane raised an eyebrow. “If you’d rather, one of the bouncers will walk with you.”

  “Don’t bother. You’re already here.”

  As they walked across the parking lot in silence, Kane slightly in the lead, Joplin studiously kept her eyes on the ground. Why hadn’t she noticed his biceps were a perfect size—not too big, not too small. Or how his sculpted forearms tapered—

  Well, crap. Next thing Joplin knew, she’d find herself staring at Kane’s butt. She peeked. Yup, she thought with a sigh. Just as mouthwatering as she remembered.

  Enough. Joplin shouted the word in her mind as she chastised herself for a lack of control over her pesky libido. She was angry with Kane. Unfortunately, in their former life, the emotion was often accompanied by desire and frustration. The cycle wasn’t healthy for her then, and she was upset to discover how easily she fell into the same old pattern.

  Unaware of her inner turmoil—thank goodness—Kane glanced over his shoulder.

  “Which car is yours?”

  “The red one at the end of the row.”

  Easy to find in a sea of pickup trucks, the rented SUV wasn’t Joplin’s usual style. She preferred something sleek and low to the ground. However, the town of Stillwater was in the mountains, winding roads leading to and from. Perhaps they were well maintained, perhaps not. To compensate for the unknown, she chose a sturdy vehicle equipped with four-wheel drive and a plethora of safety features.

  “Thank you for the escort,” Joplin said. “Very gentlemanly of you.”

  Gentlemanly? With a silent groan, she took the
key caddy from her purse, hit the button, and gave a sigh of relief when the headlights flashed, and the locks disengaged. The sooner she beat a retreat, the better.

  Kane reached out a hand. Thinking he meant to touch her, Joplin stepped away, her back hitting the side of the SUV. She felt like a jumpy fool when he simply opened the driver’s side door.

  “Why did you call me a tease?”

  “Other than the fact you made me believe you were onboard for a reunion?” she countered.

  “I didn’t—” Kane took a deep breath. “Maybe I did. But yes, other than that.”

  “Think back,” Joplin said, her look pointed. “How many times did we almost have sex?”

  “Several.”

  “Who always pulled away?”

  “Me.” Kane paused. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

  Joplin slid behind the wheel. She knew why Kane felt the need to apologize. The knowledge did nothing to cool her anger.

  “The last thing I need is your remorse,” she said, clicking the seatbelt into place. “However, if you want to explain what happened, I’ll listen.”

  Kane gripped the door with enough force to turn his knuckles white. But his face wore a neutral expression and when he spoke, his voice was cool and calm.

  “You already know. I was a drug-addicted asshole with a mile-wide need to self-destruct. Thank your lucky stars when I finally imploded, you weren’t around to feel the blowback.”

  “Why did you break my heart?” Joplin asked through gritted teeth.

  Kane looked into her eyes, long and hard.

  “I had no choice.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ♫~♫~♫

  UNDER THE COVERS, Joplin curled into a ball. Three blankets, a sweatshirt, a double layer of leggings and a pair of thick, fuzzy socks. The motel room’s wall heater blasted on high. Still, she couldn’t get warm.

  Joplin couldn’t blame her southern California roots for the intermittent shudders running through her body. Yes, she was raised where the average temperature rarely fell below a pleasant seventy degrees. However, she’d always considered herself to be adaptable—mind and body.