Always My Own (Always Love Trilogy #2)

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Always My Own (Always Love Trilogy #2) Page 17

by Tawdra Kandle


  “I’m not sure I could handle anything other than sleep right now. Emotional catharsis exhausts me.”

  “I was proud of you for that. You opened up and let your parents know how you felt. I know it wasn’t easy.” He trailed his mouth over my cheek and down to my neck. “And I realized something else, too. When I left you in the Cove, it wasn’t just us having an argument and me taking off like an idiot. You must’ve felt like it was your father all over again.”

  I raised my eyes to his. “The men I love always leave.”

  “Baby.” With a low groan, Trent gathered me close. “I promise you, no matter what happens between us, I’ll never leave you again. We can fight it out, we can yell and scream. You can tell me I’m a shithead. But I won’t leave. I’m with you for the long haul. You and me, sweetheart. My dysfunction and yours. You’re stuck with me, for always.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Always sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

  We had breakfast with my parents the next morning before they left. I made pancakes, and our conversation was easy and light after the night before.

  “Tell me how you two met. And I want to hear all about your wedding.” My mom glanced from Trent to me.

  I smiled. “Trent was working with his uncle, selling Christmas trees in our parking lot down in Crystal Cove. We got to be friends, and then . . . more.” I held his hand, gazing into his eyes. “We got married on New Year’s Eve. It was fast, yes, but when you know, you just know.”

  My mother sighed. “How romantic. Still, Bethie, you’ve broken my heart by denying me a wedding to plan. Remember when we used to dream about your perfect wedding gown?”

  “I’m sorry.” I glanced at Trent. “Maybe after MJ comes home, we could have a big party to celebrate both that and our marriage. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  “What a wonderful idea. Trent, does your family live around here?”

  He shook his head. “My uncle and aunt live up in Michigan. My mother . . .” He slid his eyes to me. “She’s an alcoholic, and she’s in a rehab facility just north of Atlanta.”

  To their credit, my parents only nodded. My mother reached out to squeeze Trent’s hand. “I’m sorry about that. It must be so difficult for you.”

  My father cleared his throat. “So you’re in the restaurant business now, are you?” He looked at Trent with interest. “I’ve always thought running a bar or a diner would be fun.”

  “Since when?” My mother snorted. “This is news to me.”

  Dad shrugged. “Just something that’s crossed my mind for our retirement years.” He winked at my mom. “Got to keep you guessing, honey.”

  “If you want to come over and check out the Road Block, sir, you’re welcome to ride over with me.” Trent folded his napkin and tucked it under the edge of the plate.

  “I’d love to do that some time, but today, Dulcie and I need to hit the road. We’ve got a little bit of a drive ahead of us to Hilton Head. But I’d definitely like a rain check.” His eyes met mine. “For the next time we come visit, assuming we’re invited back.”

  “Definitely.” I smiled.

  “And maybe we could see your office, too, Bethie,” my mother put in. “You haven’t said much about your new job. Do you like it?”

  Old Elizabeth would’ve put on a happy face and described a few clients, made the practice sound better than it was. Instead, though, I shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t think I do. It’s going well, for the most part, but I’m beginning to think that I might not be cut out to be a lawyer.” I held my breath, waiting for the fallout from the parents who’d paid for three years of law school.

  “You don’t want to spend your life doing something you don’t enjoy.” My father took a sip of his coffee and regarded me thoughtfully over the edge of his cup. “What is it you think you’d like to do instead?”

  The germ of an idea had been evolving since Trent had asked me the same question the night before. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m thinking . . . I might want to do something with baking. I’ve been spending a lot of time with the woman who owns the bakery here in town. She’s been teaching me, and she says I have a knack for it.” I lifted one shoulder. “I know I’ve just started, and I don’t know what I can do with that, exactly. Burton doesn’t need two bakeries, for sure. So unless I want to drive to Savannah every day, or maybe see about opening a place in another small town nearby, I’m kind of stuck.”

  “I wonder if you couldn’t do something on the internet.” My mother tilted her head, considering. “You could have an on-line store front, like my friend Carla who sells jewelry.”

  I nodded. “That’s a great idea, Mother. Maybe I could talk to Carla about it, if I decided to go that way?”

  She smiled, pleased. “Of course. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”

  My father checked his watch. “Dulcie, we need to get on the road. And I’m sure Trent has to leave for work.” He stood up and offered his hand to Trent. “It’s been good to meet you, son. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

  My mother didn’t stand on such ceremony. She pulled Trent into a tight hug and then wrapped me in her free arm, holding us together. “You two be good to each other, you hear? And come up to see us in Virginia.” She patted my cheek. “If you come visit in a few months, you can see Courtney and meet your nephew.”

  “I’d like that.” I kissed her and then turned to my father. “Dad, I’m glad you came.”

  He wrapped me in his arms, and this time when I sniffed deep, it was a smile. “I love you, Bethie. Never forget that. I have since the first minute I held you, and I always will.” He released me and stepped back, flicking my nose with his finger. “You’ll always be my little girl.”

  “I love you, too, Daddy.” I kissed his cheek. “Have a good time in Hilton Head.”

  Trent stood behind me, his arms around my waist, as we watched my parents drive away. He kissed my ear lobe. “I need to go, baby. What’re you going to do today?”

  I smiled. “I’m going into the office for a little bit. I think I’m going to list the practice for sale. I’m tired of doing something I don’t like.” I glanced up at him. “Are you okay with that?”

  He dropped a quick kiss on my lips. “If you’re happy, so am I.”

  “And then I might run by Kiki’s to see if she has time to give me some pointers on my scones. I want mine to be light and airy, like hers.”

  “Practice makes perfect, right? I’m always willing to help you practice.” He slid his hands lower to squeeze my ass, fitting me to his body. “I never did get that heavy petting you promised me.”

  I hauled his head closer to mine for a deeper kiss. “Anticipation is a good thing. See you tonight.”

  “SOMEONE’S IN A GOOD MOOD.” Mason smirked at me when I came into the bar whistling. “I take it the date at the lake went well? Did y’all scare some fish?”

  I laughed, shaking my head. “Not quite. That water would be damn cold this time of year. But yeah, it was a good date. We talked a lot. I think we’ve actually got a chance of making this work.”

  “Dude.” Mason held out his fist for me to bump. “I’m happy for you. And I’m going to follow that up by asking for a favor. We’ve got a pretty big name coming in to play tonight. She’s getting to be well-known in the folk music scene, and we expect a pretty big crowd. Can you hang out a little later tonight to lend a hand?”

  “Of course.” I joined him behind the bar. “You’ve been great about giving me the time I needed. I’m all yours.”

  Mason nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Let’s tackle that inventory while it’s still quiet.”

  We worked for several hours, doing all the various mundane tasks that kept the bar running smoothly. I loved that my job had both variety and predictability; it kept me interested without stressing me out.

  Just after the lunch crowd began to slow down, the door swung open and a group of four people walked in. Leading them was a petite blonde
who paused just inside and surveyed the room. Hands on her hips and a saucy smile on her face, she called out, her voice carrying into the bar.

  “Hey, where’s the owner of this dump?”

  “Crissy Darwin!” Mason came out from behind the bar, drying his hands on a rag and grinning big. “Look at you. All grown up! Come here and give me a hug.”

  With a little giggle, Crissy leaped into his arms as Mason folded her into a bear hug. “I’m so glad to see you! God, it’s been forever, hasn’t it?” She stepped back and looked around the club. “This is amazing, Mason. Really. Wow. You’ve done good.”

  One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “We like it. We’ve got everything set up for you all to run sound check. Anything you need, just ask me or Trent.” He hooked a thumb in my direction. “Oh, and hey, think you can come by the house for breakfast tomorrow? Rilla’s heard so much about you, she’s dying to meet you. And then you can see the kids, too.”

  Crissy nodded. “Piper’s got to be getting so big. She was just a tiny baby last time I saw her, back in Nashville.” She patted Mason’s arm. “I’m so happy you found someone to love again, Mase. You deserve all the best. I can’t wait to meet the woman who roped you this time.”

  Mason laughed. “She’s amazing, though it was more me who did the roping than her. Now come on, let me show you around.”

  I stayed behind the bar, keeping my eye on everything while the band began to set up and run sound check. Mason came back over a while later, frowning.

  “Hey, Trent, give me a club soda, no ice, please. Crissy’s guitarist isn’t feeling well.”

  I pulled the hose and filled a clean glass. “Here you go. Hope he’s okay.”

  “Yeah, thanks. He’s afraid he got a bad burrito from a gas station.” Mason rolled his eyes. “You’d think a man used to being on the road would know better than that.”

  “True. You’ve known Crissy a long time, huh?”

  Mason nodded. “She was just a baby, really, the first time I met her in Nashville. I think she must’ve been about fifteen. She’d been playing the fair and festival circuit, and one of our scouts caught her act, alerted us about her. We brought her out, and I wanted to sign her, but after we talked, her parents decided she wasn’t quite ready yet. I think it was a good call. She just signed a contract with a big recording studio.”

  I whistled. “Nice.”

  “Yeah.” Trent grabbed a paper napkin from the bar to wrap around the glass. “She had a rough time last fall. The guitar player who’d been with her from the beginning was killed. And so was her new publicist. Turned out she had a crazy fan. Anyway, the guy who’s playing for her now is just a temporary sub until she can find someone else who gels.” He lifted the glass. “I better get this over to him.”

  I served up another set of beers to the two guys killing time at the end of the bar, pausing just long enough to shoot the breeze with them. I’d just turned back, chuckling at something they’d said, when another man slid onto a barstool a few feet down. I made my way over to him.

  “Hey, there. What can I get for you?” Up close, I realized the guy looked familiar. I couldn’t quite remember where I’d seen him before, though.

  “You got a hell of a nerve, hanging around this town after what you pulled.” He spoke through a clenched jaw, his eyes flashing fire. “I heard a rumor you were working here, and I had to come see for myself. Couldn’t believe Mason’s hiring your kind these days. Didn’t think he’d really give a job to the man who raped his wife’s cousin.”

  I remembered now where I’d seen this man before. It had been the day at the hardware store, when I’d gone to talk with Larry about getting my old job back. He’d been there, too, whoever he was, and he’d spit venom at me then. I had the vague sense that he was working for Larry.

  I swallowed. I couldn’t lose my cool, not here. I had to keep in mind that I represented Mason and the bar, and regardless of what lies he was spewing, this man was a customer.

  “Look, buddy, I don’t even know who you are. But I think you got some wrong info. I didn’t—” I lowered my voice. “I didn’t rape Jenna Sutton. Or anyone else. What happened between us is just that, between us. I was sorry, real sorry, to hear what happened last year. If she was hurt by me, I’m sorry about that, too. I used to be—well, I wasn’t very good when it came to women. But I’m not that man anymore.”

  “You ruined her. You took her innocence, and you threw it back in her face. You’re going to burn in hell for that, boy. And no one in this town will ever forget what you did. You can pretend you’ve changed, but we all know what you did.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and gripped the edge of the bar. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back and undo what happened, but I’m sorry I couldn’t be who she wanted. I—”

  “What’s going on here?” I hadn’t heard Mason come back over, and now he stood next to me, his massive arms crossed over his large chest as he glared at the man. “Nick, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I could ask the same.” Nick stood up. “Nice family loyalty there, Mason. Hiring this asshole? How could you do it?”

  “You need to leave.” Mason spoke quietly, but his voice was pure steel. “If you can’t be a sane and decent person, get the hell out. I’m not having some idiot come in and hassle my staff. Trent works for me, and he’s damned good at his job.” He leaned over, hunching his shoulders. “And no one in Jenna’s family, not my wife, not Jenna’s mother or father, has said anything to me about Trent working here. So you either shut your fucking mouth and sit down, or you get the hell out and don’t come back.”

  Nick muttered something I didn’t catch—which was probably a good thing—and pushed away from the bar. He kicked a chair that was in his path on his way out and nearly yanked the door from its hinges.

  Mason let out a long breath once he was gone. “Trent, I’m sorry about that. Nick—he’s a hotheaded idiot. Don’t pay him any mind.”

  I shook my head. “Who is he? I don’t think I remember seeing him around town until I came back. He works for Larry?”

  “Yeah, at the hardware store. He moved here right after you left, I think, or maybe right before. I don’t know much about him, except he’s got an aunt in town. Larry hired him, and he’s been hanging around Jenna. I guess they’ve dated on and off, but I never got the feeling it was anything more than casual.”

  I ran a hand over my face. “The way he talked, I would’ve thought they were pretty serious.” I met Mason’s eyes. “He accused me of raping Jenna. Mason, you know I would never—I didn’t. It was just a bad decision.”

  “I know it. Jenna always made that clear. She never blamed you for anything, Trent. She told Rilla that you never led her on.”

  “I was stupid. I knew she was young, and on some level, I even knew she had a crush on me. I just didn’t realize how far it would go.”

  “Who would’ve?” Mason rolled his shoulders. “God, this was the last thing I needed today. Rilla just texted that the baby’s sick, and she’s harried. Crissy’s guitar player is in the back, puking out his guts, and I don’t think that guy’s going on tonight. I’d jump in and play for her, but I’d really like to go home to help Rilla.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t happen to know anyone who plays guitar, do you?”

  I didn’t even think about what I was saying when I heard myself replying, “I can play.”

  Mason straightened up and stared at me. “You can?”

  “Yeah, some. I haven’t in a while, because I couldn’t afford a guitar. I hocked the one I had to help me get up to Michigan last year.”

  He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “How long did you play?”

  I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. “Started when I was a sophomore in high school, and I kept it up. Used to play out at Benningers’ when we were all sitting around at night. I can read music, but I mostly play by ear.” I shrugged. “Like I said, though, I haven’t played in a year.
I probably can’t help you out.”

  “Hold on there. Let’s not jump to conclusions. Come on over here with me.”

  I followed Mason over to the club side, where Crissy was set up on the stage adjacent to the dance floor. “Hey, Crissy. I might have a sub for you. Can he borrow Ronnie’s guitar?”

  Crissy smiled and waved her hand. “Of course. Come on up and give it a try.”

  I felt like an idiot, climbing onto the stage. What’d I been thinking? I was just a punk who sometimes messed around with a guitar. I hadn’t even much thought about it in the year since I’d sold mine. No, that wasn’t really true. I’d wished for it now and then, wished for the outlet it gave me. When Elizabeth and I were first together, I’d wanted to play for her. But I’d never seriously considered playing for anyone else.

  Picking up Ronnie’s guitar, I sat down on the empty chair and gave it a testing strum before I plucked out a few chords and then a familiar riff or two I knew by heart. Crissy was watching me, her eyes alight.

  “Do you read music?” She leaned down over her guitar case and shuffled some papers, emerging with a sheet of music. “Let’s try this one.”

  I scanned the bars and then flipped it over. “I think I can handle this. Can you play it through once, though? I do better by ear. If I can hear it and read the music, I think I have a better shot of actually making music that sounds decent.”

  “Sure.” Crissy turned her body to face me, closed her eyes and began playing a haunting, lovely ballad. I listened intently for a few minutes and then joined in, playing along and singing harmony where the words repeated. When we reached the end of the song, Crissy didn’t pause; she went back to the beginning, and I went right along with her. By the time we reached the middle, I’d forgotten to be self-conscious and was so caught up in the music that I wasn’t even thinking about where we were.

 

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