Risk Worth Taking: Music For The Heart - Book Three

by Faith Starr

  “I wouldn’t know. We don’t speak often. They never agreed with my career choice.” I washed down a bite of my sandwich with some lemonade.

  She nodded in understanding. “I get it. They never were keen on the idea of you pursuing music as a profession.”

  “They wanted me to go to college and play guitar as a hobby. I took a few classes at the local university to pacify them, but little did they know, I spent most of my focus and energy on my music with the guys. Once we started making enough cash to the point I could support myself, I stopped going to school. That didn’t sit well with the folks. They basically cut me off, telling me they’d love to see how far the few bucks I earned on a weekly basis would get me.”

  The thought that my parents lacked faith in my guitar-playing ability still put me on edge and angered me. Hence, I hated talking about them.

  “That must’ve been difficult. Music’s a tough business to break into and earn a steady income from.”

  “At the beginning, things were rough. There were many nights I slept in my car. I didn’t feel right bunking with Joey or Trevor for nights on end. They got pissed, telling me I could live with them for free, but I knew they didn’t have a pot to piss in either and didn’t want to add to their own burdens. I firmly held on to the belief that things would get better, and fortunately, they did.”

  “It hurts me to know you had to sleep in your car.”

  Her frown made me feel uneasy. I didn’t play the self-pity card, had no rhyme or reason to. As shitty as those days had been, they made me more grateful and appreciative of what I had now.

  “It is what it is. Luckily, those days are behind me.” Thank God.

  “I’m glad. So what’s your typical schedule like these days?”

  “We travel a lot.”

  She bit her lip.

  “It’s part of the job.”

  “I’m sure it is. I’m curious about how the process works. Do you travel by plane, bus? Do your instruments travel with you? How do you transport them? How do you choose which cities you’ll visit?”

  The questions were flying.

  “Slow down.” I chuckled, putting my hand up to stop her from throwing more my way.

  “I’m sorry. Similar to you, I guess bad habits die hard.”

  “No need for an apology. First off, we have a manager who schedules our performances. Secondly, the guys and I travel together when we’re on the road. And thirdly, our equipment comes with us wherever we go.”

  “That’s so cool. I’m happy for you. It’s what you always wanted.” The sincerity in her smile told me she spoke the truth. Not that Drew ever engaged in the lying-type role.

  She had no inkling how much I wanted her. Sadly, I didn’t know how things would pan out between us, what would happen. No guarantees.

  Stop the fucking sappy relationship thoughts.

  I snapped myself out of whatever place my mind kept drifting to when it came to Drew. These were the facts: she and I would both be at the ranch for the next week, I had an obligation to make amends to her for my past wrongdoings, and finally, closure would provide me with the ability to move forward without my strong feelings for her holding me back any longer.

  Keep dreaming, buddy.

  At least my first two points were on target. Not too sure about my last one.

  “It is. I have no complaints. I’m beyond thankful for the ability to play my guitar and earn money doing it.”

  “So I take it the band is on vacation this week?”

  “Yup. I’m taking full advantage that we have a few weeks off.”

  “A few weeks?”

  I had more fucking money in the bank and in investments than I knew what to do with. I, being a realist who had no clue how long my fame would last, chose not to piss my savings away on fancy cars and lavish vacations. I banked my dough, spending it how I saw fit while also planning ahead so I could maintain my current lifestyle if things with the band ever took a nosedive south.

  “Things have been good for us, and because of that, we’re able to take extended breaks. How about you? You said you work for your father and are taking classes.”

  I wanted to shift the attention off me and on to her.

  “I’m only working for my dad until I graduate. I hate living at home.”

  She grimaced. I couldn’t blame her. Her mother and father were helicopter parents to the nth degree. They never did approve of me, my independent nature being too intimidating and possibly threatening for their taste. They didn’t agree with my career choice either, another major strike against me. I didn’t give a shit. Drew supported me, and that’s all that counted.

  “You still live with your parents?” That sucked big time.

  “Don’t rub it in.” She spoke teasingly and took another drink of her lemonade. “Trust me, if I earned enough to live on my own, I would. I think my dad purposely keeps my salary fixed, so I can’t afford to leave his house, but I don’t think any other employer would be as flexible with my schedule in regard to my schooling as he is. I can honestly attest to the fact that there is such a thing as too much togetherness.” She set her glass down.

  “What about Kate? Is she at home too?”

  She shook her head. “No. She lives with Joe, her fiancé. Her stuff’s at his place, which will be an interesting situation after we leave the ranch. If she moves home, it’ll suck for me. I can’t imagine the two of us living under the same roof again. She’s a royal pain in my ass.”

  Her sister was a piece of work.

  “So what is it you do for your father?”

  “Schedule patients, well, the animals, because they’re our patients.”

  Her explanation was cute but unnecessary. I knew the animals were the patients. She was such a lovable and sweet person.

  Stop thinking about her this way. She’s out of here in a week.

  “My parents don’t trust anyone to take care of the finances so my mom does the accounting stuff in back while I run the front.”

  “Sounds like a lot of responsibility, especially when you’re going to school as well. I’m sure they’re not looking forward to the day you leave.”

  “You know my parents. They’d be happy to keep me under lock and key until the day I get married.”

  Yes, I know.

  She gave me the perfect opening to dig deeper again. “Speaking of which, any fiancés in your past?”

  “No. You?”

  I sensed her apprehension about hearing my response.

  “No. It would be kind of difficult to have one with my current lifestyle. I pretty much live on the road.”

  Not that our hectic schedule stopped Trevor and Joey from moving forward with their loves. They were the epitome of role models when it came to combining their passion for music with maintaining steady relationships. I often wondered whether I could do the same.

  Where the fuck did that thought even come from, especially with me being the bandmate who bragged about every fuck I engaged in?

  My thoughts were in a perpetual state of contradiction. It was starting to get to me.

  “It sounds like you’re living the typical rock ’n’ roll lifestyle. Is it safe to say you have groupies located in various cities across the globe?”

  Her attempt at refraining from wincing as she spoke the words was a major fail.

  “It makes things convenient for now without all the emotional baggage that comes along with a relationship.” Excuses, excuses. “How about you? You’re in one place. No steady boyfriends you thought would lead to more?”

  She used her spoon to scatter her left-over fruit around the plate. I knew exactly where her mind had drifted to. Shit, I was such an ass for bringing up the subject. We might have been kids when we dated, but one thing we’d always agreed upon was our forever future together.

  A small piece of turkey must’ve fallen out of my sandwich and onto the table. I zeroed in on it.

  She sighed heavily. “No. None that I’d write home about.”
/>   Did that include me? “So are you saying there have been some?”

  “I did date after you, Logan.”

  She made her frustration with my assumption that I had been her one and only loud and clear in both her tone and the tight line of her lips.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Do you want me to tell you there were no others?”

  Yeah, I would.

  An inevitable attack would face me shortly.

  “I didn’t mean that either. Tell me whatever you want.” Talk about being at a loss for words.

  She closed her eyes and breathed deep. Hmm, I had apparently hit a nerve. She had something on her mind she didn’t want to discuss. I felt it.

  “If you don’t mind, can we go pick that fruit now?” She balled up her napkin, dropped it on her plate, and brought the remains to the garbage can, where she dumped the leftovers into the large black bag.

  Well, that conversation had gone well.

  8

  Drew

  While tossing my trash, I tried to collect myself. I knew Logan wanted nothing more than for me to tell him I’d been celibate all these years while he gallivanted around with one-night stands night after night, as if my life had had no purpose without him. Well, unfortunately for him, I’d never allow anything like that to happen since I was the type of person who got up and dusted myself off when I fell. Sure, in certain situations the task proved more difficult, with Logan being one of them.

  He sat waiting for me at the table, the light in his eyes a bit dimmer. Something went on in that mind of his, but it wasn’t my place to probe. We weren’t in that type of a relationship anymore.

  He led me out of the dining hall and up the rocky trail to Susanna and Jack’s house, a lovely two-story log cabin. A hammock was strung up in the front yard and there were some rocking chairs on the front porch, all very welcoming and homey. I paused at the edge of the landscape, not proceeding any farther. “Are you sure they won’t mind that we’re on their personal property?”

  “Not at all. They want their guests to feel at home during their stay, and if that includes picking fruit from their garden, respectfully that is, they’re all for it.”

  Behind the house was a greenhouse along with several fenced-off areas filled with herbs and produce. Peach trees stopped me in my tracks. Fruit filled them. Yum, I couldn’t wait to taste a juicy peach.

  “May I pick a few?” I knew he had said Susanna wouldn’t care, but I still didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.

  “Of course. Pick as many as you’d like. I can attest that they taste even better than they look.”

  My mouth watered simply admiring the plump peach just out of reach. I got on my tiptoes and stretched my arm as far as possible but couldn’t grab it. Logan came to my rescue and wiggled it off the branch. He handed me the fruit.

  I rotated it in my palm, inspecting it. I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into it.

  “Are you going to eat it now, or would you rather save it?”

  “Why don’t we share it?” The thing was the size of an orange. “It’s too large for me alone, and I’d hate to waste it.”

  He nodded in agreement. I bit into the skin, juice immediately dripping down my chin. I closed my eyes. What orgasmic deliciousness.

  “Oh my God, you have to try this.” I held it in front of his mouth. He cupped my hand and brought the fruit to his.

  Using the back of my free hand, I wiped my chin. Was that still peach juice or drool? Damn, how was it every move Logan made had seduction written all over it? Or could it be due to my skewed vision?

  Either way, I stared intently as his lips parted and he bit into the fruit. His tongue skimmed his bottom lip to clean the juice off.

  Lord help me. I wanted to lick that juice off his lips.

  Mesmerized, my heart speeding up, I stared at him in admiration. How pathetic was I? It made me realize how sexually deprived I felt.

  “Your turn.” His brows rose slightly. Hunger filled his eyes. It most likely matched mine.

  He again cupped my hand but this time brought the peach toward my mouth. I sank my teeth into the fruit, this bite tasting even better than the last one.

  “My turn.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

  Our joined hands brought the peach toward his mouth. To my surprise, he released my hand and kissed me instead, tongue and all. The peach dropped from our hands, thumping when it hit the ground. Or perchance it was the sound of my heart beating against my chest.

  My lids were already too heavy to keep open. I snaked my arm around his neck and slid my fingers into his hair. His tongue danced with mine, soft but aggressive, a perfect balance, a perfect kiss.

  I tasted residual peach flavor in his mouth—more divine than the fruit we’d dropped on the grass.

  Logan wrapped his arm around me and tugged me closer until our bodies meshed together. His erection didn’t go unnoticed, especially with the manner in which he circled it against my pelvic area. I breathed into his mouth and moaned ever so slightly.

  He tilted his head to the right, then the left, his tongue never breaking contact with mine, his hand fisting my hair. I fancied this rough side of him. I had never experienced it before.

  What else did he have up his sleeve? Inquiring minds wanted to know. Mine included.

  He broke the seal between us and leaned his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Drew. I can’t seem to get enough of you or keep my hands to myself when I’m near you.”

  Sadly, my gut reaction was to question every word he said due to the mistrust I still held inside me. I also didn’t want to be viewed as one of his groupie women located in various cities that he spoke about earlier. Sure, I had taken part in a few one-night encounters myself, but that type of behavior went against the values I held true to my heart. I only acted upon them in an effort to try and relieve some of the pain in my heart, hoping that being in the arms of another man would help me do so, when in reality all those hookups did was make me long for Logan more.

  Pulling back, I released myself from his arms. “Guess your concept of sharing is different from mine.” I spoke lightheartedly in an attempt to break the intensity between us. If the butterflies in my stomach and the trembling of my hands had anything to say about it, things moved way too fast between us.

  “Guess so.” He studied me. “You okay?” He cocked his head to the side, curiosity and a touch of concern written all over his face.

  No. I wasn’t okay. Try a frickin’ basket case inside.

  I played it cool, though. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I hope you’d tell me if you weren’t.”

  His gaze penetrating into mine had me biting my bottom lip. He had caught me. Guilty as charged.

  “Hey guys, what’re you up to?”

  Layla’s voice came out of nowhere, scaring the hell out of me. I took two steps backward, creating a good amount of distance between me and Logan.

  “Picking peaches.” Logan clearly wasn’t fazed by her sudden appearance.

  She lit up. “That’s exactly what I’m about to do. My mom’s making peach cobbler tonight.”

  Retreating inside my mind, I contemplated whether she’d seen me and Logan kissing and waited until our moment ended prior to approaching us. Not that she’d care, but my cheeks still burned at the thought.

  “She makes the best cakes and pies.” Logan’s eyes fixed on me when he spoke.

  “Why don’t the two of you help me pick some?”

  “Sure.” I agreed to Layla’s request without any forethought, somewhat relieved by the interruption. It provided me with some distance. I kept getting sucked into Logan’s web and had to consciously remind myself to take a step back.

  “Great. I only pick the red ones. The green ones aren’t ripe yet. You can place your pickings in this basket. Also, feel free to take some back to your cabin if you want to.”

  Easy enough.

  I got busy picking peaches within my reach. Logan got
the ones higher up. Layla went to a different tree altogether and gathered her own.

  What fun. I fully immersed myself in the activity, such a different one than I’d engage in in my everyday life. Here I was in the middle of nowhere, up in the mountains, at a ranch, picking fresh fruit off a tree. Who would’ve thought I’d find this adventure of Kate’s so fantastic? What an awesome place to decompress and mellow out. Too bad Logan had me so wound up it was difficult to fully do so.

  After gathering peaches, I helped myself to a few pears. They weren’t as ripe, but I savored the experience nonetheless.

  Layla said her goodbyes and left for the dining hall, carting two full baskets of fresh peaches. I had two peaches and a pear to bring to my cabin.

  Logan and I wandered to the main area in front of the dining hall. Guests were scattered about, talking animatedly about the activities they’d engaged in earlier in the day.

  Kate stood with two women, different from the ones she’d been with earlier. I wanted to speak with her, since I had pretty much abandoned ship since meeting up with Logan.

  “There you are. Where did you get those?”

  She referred to the fruit in my hands.

  “Want one?” I handed her a juicy peach. “Logan and I just picked them off the fruit trees.”

  The mere mention of Logan’s name had her all but cringing, but it didn’t stop her from taking the peach.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. This is Lena and Marcy.” She gestured to the two women standing next to her. “This is my sister, Drew, and her friend, Logan.”

  “We’re about to go shooting. Want to come?” Kate spoke with a plea of desperation. I suddenly realized why. Joe owned a handgun and loved going to the shooting range. Empathy kicked in for my poor sister.

  “You don’t have to go if you don’t want too, Kate.”

  “No. It’s important for me to keep busy.”

  Even though I understood her rationale, at some point she would have to stop and feel her feelings. I gave her credit, though. She could’ve been isolating in our cabin, crying, but instead she was out and about, participating in all the goings-on. That deserved props on her part.