“Are you free for dinner tonight?” Joplin asked. “I should be back in Los Angeles in plenty of time.”
“Joplin.” Bradley’s voice broke. “We’re through. Our engagement is off.”
So much for letting him down gently over a glass of his favorite Merlot.
“Over the phone?” Joplin scoffed. She wasn’t hurt, she was disappointed. “You couldn’t wait a few more hours and break up with me face to face?”
“Seemed easier,” Bradley mumbled.
Sure. For him. Joplin deserved better. Confused, she tried to think of a reason why he would treat her in such an off-hand, disrespectful manner. Suddenly, a light went on in her brain, and she knew.
“Who is she?”
“What? She? What?”
Three thousand miles away, Bradley’s guilty desperation seeped through the phone. She could almost smell his sweat and desperation.
Joplin ran a quick list of possible women through her head. He worked long hours. Made sense for his lover to be someone he saw every day. Bonus points if she could advance his career.
“Traci Hill. The boss’ daughter.”
When Bradley didn’t deny her guess, Joplin knew she’d hit the cheater on the head.
“What a cliché.” She snickered. “Is she impatient? Threatened to tell me if you didn’t? Rather than take a chance on a messy confrontation, you took the weasel way out.”
“Traci and I are in love,” Bradley claimed.
Maybe they were, Joplin conceded. Or not. Either way, she was done. She wouldn’t curse his future happiness, nor would she, out of the goodness of her heart, absolve him of all wrongdoing. From this moment on, she simply didn’t care one way or the other.
“About our professional association.”
Bradley’s voice dropped—an attempt at intimacy. Joplin rolled her eyes. Don’t go there, she urged him with a silent plea. Maintain at least a modicum of class.
“I’m a damn good lawyer, Joplin. Don’t be petty and deprive your clients of my services.”
Joplin could have continued to indulge Bradley’s ego. Or eviscerated him with a few well-chosen words. She did neither. With a swipe of her thumb, she ended the call. With a few clicks, she deleted his phone number and blocked him from using hers.
“And that is how you end a relationship.”
Satisfied and proud of herself, Joplin finished packing. Putting her phone in her purse, she buttoned her coat, pulled on a pair of gloves and opened the door to the parking lot. Instead of the black asphalt and green pine trees she remembered from when she checked in, all she saw was snow. Around four feet of the frozen stuff, if she wasn’t mistaken.
Everywhere Joplin looked was a veritable winter wonderland of untouched snow. With a few exceptions. To her left, the walkway from the office to Joplin’s room had been shoveled. To her right was a small path straight to the driver’s side of her rented SUV. The vehicle had been neatly cleared off but at least an inch of newly accumulated frozen precipitation lay on the roof, windshield, and hood.
Bundled up in a bright orange puffy coat, a knit hat, and thick mittens, Dolly, the woman who checked Joplin in the day before, trudged along the path in a pair of winter work boots. She grinned, waving her arms.
“Morning. I’m Dolly. We met yesterday,” she said, her breath instantly turning into a white cloud.
“I remember,” Joplin smiled in return.
“Wish I was good with names. Never have been.” Dolly sighed. “But I remember yours. Janis Joplin was my girl. My husband and I danced to Me and Bobby McGee at our wedding. Still do, every anniversary.”
Stories like Dolly’s were confirmation of why music would always resonate with people. Just a few notes of a familiar tune could transport you to another place, another time.
Stopping a few feet away, Dolly crossed her arms and surveyed the parking lot before meeting Joplin’s gaze. “What do you think?”
Not certain what she was supposed to say, Joplin shrugged.
“I see a lot of snow.”
“First of the season is always the best,” Dolly said with a nod.
“Thank you for cleaning off my car.” Joplin nodded toward the SUV.
“Wasn’t me.” Dolly laughed.
“You’re husband?” Joplin asked.
“Lordy, no. Myron’s back can’t take the strain.” Dolly tilted her head to the side, her pale eyes filled with good humor. “You need to thank Kane.”
“Kane Harrison?” Joplin frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Watched him myself. Such a kind young man.” Dolly made a warm, humming sound in the back of her throat. “Town of Stillwater lucked out the day he decided to hang around. Works two jobs and still finds time to help out whenever someone needs a hand.”
“Sounds like quite a guy,” Joplin said.
“The stories I could tell you.” Dolly looked up at the sky, then at Joplin. “But now’s not the time.”
Forget the snow, Joplin wanted to shout. I want to hear stories about kind Kane. Helpful Kane.
“Almost forgot why I came to see you. Road out of town is closed.” Dolly shrugged. “Mini-avalanche, according to Weber Hollister who answers the phone down at the police station. He’s been calling around, letting people know.”
“I hope no one was injured.”
“Now, aren’t you sweet to ask.” Dolly beamed “Took out some trees and covered the bridge. Luckily, no one was on the road at the time.”
“Guess I’ll be here another night,” Joplin said.
“I’m sorry about that.” Dolly gave her arm a conciliatory pat. “Someplace you needed to be?”
For the first time in a long time, the answer was no.
When Joplin began her quest to reunite Razor’s Edge, she arranged her work schedule so she could handle everything from the road. Danny’s health was stable for now—not trusting her uncle, she made his housekeeper promise to call if anything changed.
And now that her engagement was a thing of the past…
“I’m free as a bird,” Joplin told Dolly.
As she let herself back into the motel room, a plan formed in Joplin’s brain. Time on her hands was one thing. Knowing how to pass the hours was another. She had an idea.
Checking her suitcase, Joplin tossed a few items onto the bed and waited for the first doubt to creep past the wall of confidence she’d spent the last five years constructing around herself. She was pleased, thrilled, when all she felt was a sense of growing excitement.
No hesitation, no doubts, no nerves. She popped a lemon drop into her mouth. Okay, maybe a few nerves, but nothing she and her stash of candy couldn’t handle.
Joplin shivered with anticipation. Other people were granted their fondest wishes, their deepest desires. Why should she be any different? She wasn’t greedy, she only longed for one thing. Thanks to fate, and an opportune avalanche, she’d been handed a second chance to finally get what she wanted.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
♫~♫~♫
JOPLIN SPENT MOST of the morning searching for Kane. In the era of instant communication, finding one man in a small town where everybody seemed to know your next move before you did, shouldn’t have been difficult.
Naturally, Joplin knew Kane’s home address. The private investigator she hired to track down him and the other ex-members of Razor’s Edge had been very thorough. However, she didn’t want to show up at his door unannounced. What if he didn’t want to see her? Or he had company from the night before? Better if she called him first.
Unfortunately, the only number Joplin had was to a landline. When she dialed, an old-school answering machine picked up. After considering her options, and rather than waste time on a fruitless search through town, Joplin went to her new friend for information.
“Kane doesn’t own a cell phone?” Joplin stared at Dolly certain the woman misspoke.
“Nope. Never has. Guess we thought he was a bit odd at fir
st.”
“And now?” Joplin asked.
“He’s just Kane.” Dolly shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt that he’s drop-dead gorgeous and sweet as pie. Every woman in town—single and married—has a crush on him.”
Joplin was intrigued. The Kane she remembered had his sweet moments. He could be funny and thoughtful and kind. However, worn down by his demons, he was also surly and thoughtless and cruel. Toward the end, Kane’s dark side took over. He broke his friendships. He broke Joplin’s heart.
Whatever happened in the past five years, whatever he went through, Kane seemed to have his life together, and Joplin was happy for him.
“Kane always shows up somewhere,” Dolly said.
“Good to know,” Joplin laughed. “I just need something a little more specific.”
“Go to his apartment.”
“I tried calling,” Joplin said. “Kane didn’t pick up.”
“Interesting.” Dolly frowned. “Did you leave a message?”
“No, but—”
“There you go.” Dolly’s expression brightened. “Kane screens his calls. He would have picked up for you.”
“Why me?” Joplin asked, puzzled.
“Simple.” Dolly chuckled. “You’re Joplin.”
“What?”
“I dream the future,” Dolly said as she rolled to her feet. “Last night, I saw a woman—Kane’s woman. And her name was Joplin.”
The idea of a dream determining the future was preposterous. However, the shiver that went down Joplin’s spine was very real.
“Easy to explain,” she told Dolly—and herself—with a shrug. “You met a woman with an unusual name, a name that filtered into your subconscious. Nothing more.”
“Why did my dream link you with Kane?” Dolly asked with a smug smile.
“Coincidence?”
“Silly me. I forgot to feed my cat.” The other woman patted Joplin’s hand. “Get yourself over to Kane’s apartment. Do you have the address?”
“I do. But—”
“Okay.” Dolly nodded as though everything made perfect sense. “Only a few blocks away, but you drive safe.”
A short time later, as Joplin parked on the street where Kane lived, she pushed Dolly’s words, prediction, omen, whatever they were, out of her mind. She had better things to do than worry about a very sweet, but slightly odd woman’s attempt at dream interpretation. At least, she hoped she did.
The street had been plowed, but most of the sidewalks around town were covered deep with snow. The west side of Bleaker Street was the exception. One block, from intersection to intersection, was shoveled clean. A layer of salt covered the cement, melting each new flake as it hit the ground.
Kane had been busy, Joplin thought as she stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to his apartment. She took a deep breath before spitting what was left of a lemon drop into a nearby garbage can.
Fifteen steps. Joplin counted. At the top was a blue door flanked by two sconces. The bulbs inside were lit, and the mat at her feet read Welcome. Good signs, she decided as she rang the bell.
“Joplin.”
Kane seemed as surprised to see her as she was relieved to see him. His feet were bare, his hair damp. His jeans were zipped, but not buttoned. The shirt he wore was open, putting on display a set of abs that could only be described as lick worthy.
“You didn’t answer your phone.”
Joplin knew her words sounded like an accusation—one she had no right to make. His apartment, his rules. But she was fueled by coffee and nerves. Logic was not her friend.
“I screen my calls,” Kane said.
“So, I was informed.”
Again, Joplin heard the tone of her voice. This time, she mentally cringed. Kane didn’t owe her an apology.
“Want to come in?”
Joplin stepped across the threshold. She was here. He was here. No going back now.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”
More caffeine? Absolutely not. Shaking her head, Joplin removed her jacket, placing it and her purse on the sofa.
“I have a few things to say. Please take a moment before you respond.”
Kane ran a hand over his stubbled chin, his dark eyes curious but otherwise hard to read.
“Would you like to sit down?”
Joplin shook her head.
“I’m not in love with you, Kane.” She was glad when he didn’t respond. “I don’t know if what we had was a flame or a flicker. But you need to understand, I’m not carrying either for you.”
Reminding herself to breathe, Joplin looked Kane in the eyes.
“I don’t want our old relationship, and I’m not looking for a new one.”
“You’ve told me how you don’t feel, what you don’t want. All things we covered last night.” Kane raised an eyebrow. “Tell me, Joplin. Why are you here? What do you want?”
“The moment I saw you again, I felt a familiar zing.” She rushed to explain. “Not love. Sex.”
“Oh, I know the feeling,” Kane said.
“Right there,” Joplin sighed. “When your voice pours out like whiskey-coated smoke. My knees go weak.”
“I had no idea.”
“Come on,” she said with a snort. “You’ve always known what your voice does to women?”
“Women, yes.” Kane shrugged. “You always seemed oblivious.”
“I wasn’t,” Joplin told him. “Your voice isn’t the point—exactly. What do I want? Sex. With you.”
“Okay.”
Joplin had been ready to argue, to reason with him. She hadn’t expected such a matter of fact yes. She was happy. And more than a little terrified.
“Once we’re done, we’re done,” she said.
“Understood.”
Kane removed his shirt, and Joplin gave a silent prayer of thanks for good nutrition and the proper exercise routine.
“You put on weight.” When in doubt, state the obvious.
“You, too,” Kane said. His hungry gazed looked her up and down. “In all the right places.”
Oh, boy. She remembered flirty Kane. Unfortunately, she also remembered how their one and only kiss ended.
“Promise you won’t get me all worked up then walk away.”
Kane walked behind her. An arm slid around her waist as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“See the door?”
The warmth of Kane’s whispered words brushed against Joplin’s ear. Her skin tingled. She shivered in anticipation. She nodded.
“If you decide to leave—at any time—I won’t stop you.” Kane kissed the tender skin of her neck. “But I promise, if you want me for the next hour or for the rest of the day, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Joplin’s head fell onto Kane’s shoulder. He’d given her a precious gift. The gift of himself and all the time she wanted.
“I’m in charge?” she asked.
“Anything you want, just say the word.”
Turning, Joplin placed her hands against Kane’s chest. Smooth, hot skin. And getting hotter by the second. Raising her gaze, she smiled.
“You have a dip in your chin.” She pressed her finger the spot. “I liked the beard, but it’s nice to see what that hair was hiding.”
“I had a beard for ten years. Cutting it off was scary.” Grinning, Kane nipped at her finger. “Didn’t want to traumatize little children with my ugly mug.”
Joplin was shocked to realize Kane, the man with the endless ego, wasn’t searching for compliments. Would wonders never cease? He was nervous, worried she might not like his slightly stubbled face.
“You’re a knockout, with or without. I’m sure you’ve heard the same thing from other women.”
“Some opinions mean more than others,” he said.
Now was not the time for Kane to show his vulnerable side. Joplin needed sexy Kane. Confident Kane. If Caveman Kane made a brief cameo at some point, she woul
dn’t complain.
“Bed. Naked. Sex.” Joplin said in her best brook no arguments tone of voice.
“Your wish. My command.”
Kane swooped Joplin into his arms. The bed was ten, maybe twelve steps away—tops. However, she wasn’t about to complain. He tossed her onto the mattress.
“Bouncy.” Joplin laughed.
“Glad you approve,” Kane said as he lowered the zipper on his jeans.
Watching, waiting, when the pants hit the floor, her heart almost stopped.
“Oh, my. What a big…” Joplin raised her eyes. “Grin you have.”
“These days, I’m more pussy cat than wolf.”
Kane made a purring sound deep in his throat as he crawled across the bed. The sound brought back memories of when he would growl a note into the microphone. The audience went crazy—every time. Then, and now, she knew the feeling.
“Your voice should come with a disclaimer. Warning: Aphrodisiac Ahead.” Joplin ripped off her shirt. “Yum. Yum. Yummy.”
“And an amen from me,” Kane groaned as he ran a finger along the edge of her bra. “Red lace and satin skin. I must be dreaming.”
Ready to melt—or burst into flames—Joplin shimmied out of her jeans. She grinned when Kane reached out again. Hungry eyes the color of liquid chocolate met her gaze.
“Matching panties. Almost a shame to take them off.”
Thrilled that she took the time to change before leaving her motel room, Joplin didn’t know whether to gloat over Kane’s reaction or gasp when his hand moved up her thigh. She settled on the satisfying combination of both.
“Want me to leave on the underwear?”
“I said almost a shame.” He chuckled. “Then again, a man with a little imagination can always find a way around the problem.”
Joplin’s eyes fluttered shut. Kane always had the most dexterous fingers of any musician she’d seen. He may have given up the guitar, but he still knew how to pluck all the right notes.
One second Joplin was one touch away from paradise, the next she was flat on her back. She didn’t mind the change of position, not with Kane’s long, naked body pressed to hers. However, she was supposed to be in charge and so far, he’d made all the moves.
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