Risk Worth Taking: Music For The Heart - Book Three

by Faith Starr

  Drew: You could say that.

  Logan: I guess I’ll have to change their minds.

  Drew: Good luck. Where do you want to meet?

  Logan: Come to my place. We’ll head out from here.

  Drew: Am I to believe you?

  Logan: Believe what you will.

  Drew: I’m shaking my head at you right now. Send me the address.

  Logan: Already did.

  I couldn’t wait to see her, the few hours we’d been apart too long for my satisfaction.

  Well, I’ll be damned. This woman already had me by the balls. Again.

  26

  Drew

  Now I would have to deal with the Twenty Questions game of my plans, who with, etc. It’s ridiculous that in my twenties I still had to tell my parents about my whereabouts. I so had to move out of their place.

  They far from gave me a welcome reception when I returned home from the airport, not that I expected them too. Surprisingly, Kate had taken the blame and told them she’d been the one who came up with idea of me going with her to the ranch. Still, they took their frustration with the situation out on me.

  After putting my last load of laundry in the dryer, I got dressed. My mom happened to walk by my room as I spritzed on perfume.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Dinner with a friend.”

  “Eric?”

  Such a moral dilemma faced me. I hated to lie. I cringed inside because I so didn’t want to, but I couldn’t tell her the truth about Logan because I myself didn’t know the status of our relationship.

  “Just catching up.”

  That didn’t answer the question one way or another and she looked pacified. I considered it a win-win for all.

  “Did you at least have fun on the trip?”

  Surprise, surprise, she actually cared enough to ask. All our conversations prior to this one had been me on the receiving end of her rants.

  “Yeah, I had a blast. But I have to go or else I’ll be late for dinner. I’ll see you later.”

  I brushed past her and left the house. My heart pounded in my car. I didn’t take comfort in keeping secrets, especially when there were pictures floating online of me and Logan. Not that my mom was an Internet junkie, but still, news traveled fast in this town and would get back to her. I could almost bet someone would bring it up at the pet clinic the following morning too.

  Logan’s directions were superb. I located his neighborhood with ease. He had definitely moved up in the world, the neighborhood he lived in luxurious and well-maintained. I wouldn’t say the houses were mansions, but they weren’t small cookie-cutter homes either. They were stately with freshly manicured lawns.

  The closer I got to his house number, the slower I drove. I didn’t want to pass it. I parked in the empty driveway in front of his three-car garage.

  I didn’t understand my sudden bout of nerves. I had spent an entire week with the man at the ranch. I guess it was because we were now back on familiar territory.

  Old memories flooded me, most of them good. Rewind, all of them good, all except one. I forced myself to push that thought aside, praying I wouldn’t have to live through a repeat of that disaster. Once had been enough.

  Beautiful flowers trailed the path to the front door.

  My finger slightly trembled when I rang the doorbell.

  “Be right there!”

  My breath picked up speed, waiting for him to greet me.

  The lock clicked, and he opened the door. He beamed upon seeing me. I was sure I beamed as well.

  “Come in.”

  He stepped aside so I could enter.

  The smell of something mouth-watering filled the air, and I wasn’t referring to Logan, who had been born with the privilege of smelling divine.

  The living- and dining-room areas were scarce of furniture.

  “Did you just move in?” I followed him into the kitchen and den area. At least those rooms were furnished. He had a huge television mounted on the wall with soft plush leather couches in front of it. The kitchen consisted of dark wood cabinets with light granite countertops.

  Wait a minute, he had the table set for dinner with the napkins folded just so. He’d told me we were going out to eat, not dining in. The fact he had cooked dinner for the two of us touched me.

  “No. I’ve been here about a year, but I’m not home to entertain much, so decorating hasn’t been a priority.”

  My anxiety increased. In a sense, as odd as it sounded when I’d known the man for years in every way possible, I felt as if we were about to have another first date.

  “It’s a beautiful home.”

  “Thanks. Can I offer you a drink?”

  I shook my head. Even though my mouth felt dry like the desert, I didn’t want anything. Instead I pulled a mint out of my purse and popped it in my mouth.

  “I thought we would eat in. It’s been a long day, and I’d rather hang tight and chill out, if you don’t mind?”

  “No, not at all. It smells delicious, whatever it is.”

  “I had nothing in the house, so I went food shopping. I make a mean Chicken Parm. It’s about the only thing I know how to cook other than eggs and toast.”

  “You seriously cooked us dinner?” I still couldn’t believe his considerate gesture.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I didn’t mean to put you through so much trouble. We could’ve ordered in.”

  He came closer and embraced me. “It was no trouble at all. I wanted to act selfishly and not share you tonight. I knew if we went out, I’d have to.”

  He flashed me a crooked smile before his lips met mine. His tongue slipped inside my mouth, engaging mine in a merry-go-round of sorts, our tongues rolling over each other in a gentle manner.

  The warmth in my cheeks spread throughout the rest of my body. I clenched my pelvic muscles.

  Gosh, could Logan kiss. And he did it with such passion, almost as though he wore his heart on his sleeve when our lips touched. It made me wonder whether he exposed the same vulnerability to other women he’d kissed. A yucky thought if I ever had one.

  He picked me up and set me on the kitchen island. He stepped between my legs and ran his hands through my hair. I did the same to his. He lifted my shirt, breaking our kiss for long enough to get it over my head.

  Heat flickered in his eyes as he gazed at my lacy push-up.

  “I like.”

  He leaned forward and kissed each breast on the outside of the bra.

  I wouldn’t feed his ego and tell him I’d worn the sexy garment especially for him.

  He trailed kisses up my neck, ending on my lips.

  “What do you say we have appetizers upstairs in my bedroom?”

  Too hot and bothered to reply, I simply nodded.

  He hoisted me off the counter and carried me to the stairs, where he set me down on the first one. He stepped around me, took hold of my hand, and led me upstairs.

  There were four doors on the second floor. I assumed three were bedrooms, the fourth a bathroom. I’d find out soon enough.

  We went to the room in the corner, the master, a big-ass one to say the least. He had a king-size bed and a second huge TV mounted on the wall in front of it. His furniture was crafted from simple wood, nothing elaborate. Logan, Mr. Casual, didn’t give a shit what people thought about him. He had always been confident in being true to himself.

  He couldn’t get his hands on me fast enough. One would think we hadn’t seen each other in forever. He unbuttoned my jeans. I jacked his T-shirt up and over his head. We couldn’t undress the other fast enough, as if a timer would go off, telling us to stop.

  Once we were both naked, he picked me up again. I straddled my legs around his waist. He kissed me, our tongues swirling in a mad race to the finish line. The softness from earlier in the kitchen became replaced with lust.

  He dropped me on the bed, his body lowering with mine, the two of us falling onto the mattress. He kicked my feet apart and rubbed his ha
rdness against me.

  The sensation made me delirious. I felt sex deprived, despite Logan having satisfied me to the hilt this past week, including earlier on the plane.

  “I want you so badly right now.”

  His kisses alone had all but done the foreplay trick.

  “Then stop stalling and take me.”

  Those magic words.

  He reached for my leg and wrapped it around his waist. He did the same with the other leg. His fingers got busy between my folds.

  “So ready, baby.”

  “Only for you.”

  Guess I fed his ego after all because the hunger in his eyes quadrupled after hearing my comment.

  He aligned himself and inched his way inside. My eyes closed, the fullness engulfing my entire being.

  “Ah.” My hips met his in an up-and-down rhythm.

  “You feel so fucking good.”

  His whisper lit me up even more.

  I wanted to kiss him, yearning for that connection with him as well, so I did.

  Our mouths and bodies became entwined, our breaths became panted. He penetrated my core, deep. He throbbed inside me, thickened. His body tensed over mine, and he stilled.

  I balled my hands into fists on his back, crying out, my orgasm engulfing me in its waves, pulling me under with its strong currents, the two of us coming together.

  He remained locked in place, the pulsing of his cock taking me higher.

  Fuck.

  That was basically what we had just done. But now he acted tender and sweet, planting delicate kisses on my neck.

  “You’re incredible.” He swiped hair off my sweaty face.

  Years of stuffed feelings and emotions surfaced at once. I didn’t want them to come out yet. I swallowed hard in a last-ditch effort to bury them. My heart demanded protection, because as desperately as I wanted this to happen between me and Logan, I still had a load of doubts and fears to go along with it.

  27

  Logan

  Of all times for the oven timer to go off. I didn’t want to get up because I still had Drew in my arms. But I also didn’t want the chicken to burn.

  I gave her a peck on the lips and took the stairs in pairs to the first floor. She followed suit a few minutes later wearing too much clothing. She’d put her jeans and shirt back on.

  “If you want, I can take care of this while you clean up.”

  “Why clean up when I plan on getting dirty again?” I raised my brows flirtatiously. Still, I agreed and gave her the silicone oven mitts. “The salad is good to go. It’s in a white bowl in the fridge, and the pasta’s in the strainer in the sink.” Her eyes opened wide. “What?”

  “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans.

  “I told you, it was no trouble at all, unless it tastes like shit. If it does, we’ll have to order in.”

  She laughed, seizing the mitts from me. I went upstairs to the bathroom to wash up and get dressed.

  When I returned she had everything on the table, ready to eat.

  “This looks fantastic. Thank you again.”

  Nodding in acknowledgment at her compliment, I assisted her into her seat. I took my own next to her. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cooked for a woman other than Dani, who didn’t count because I considered her a sister. Now and then the guys and I would prep meals before rehearsals. The thought brought a suggestion to mind.

  “After dinner, how about I show you my ministudio and we lay your song down on a track?”

  “Two things.” She held up two fingers. “First, you have a recording studio in your house? And second, I told you I prefer to play for and by myself, not in front of others.”

  “Two responses. First, I don’t consider myself to be in the others category because you’ve already played the song for me. I want you to hear how good it’ll sound professionally recorded. I think it’s a great song. Second, yes, I have a recording studio here, albeit a small one.”

  “I appreciate your kind words, but I’m not sure about taking you up on your offer.”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun. I have a few guitars. You can pick whichever one you want. I’ll even play along with you.”

  “And steal my thunder from my awesome guitar-playing abilities?”

  “On second thought, maybe I’ll let you play solo. I’m used to the spotlight being on me. I would hate for you to upstage me.”

  She smiled and sampled her chicken. “Oh my God, this chicken is to die for.”

  “I’m glad you approve. For the most part, me preparing food is hit or miss.”

  I ate some as well. I had to agree with her. I did have the Chicken Parm thing down to a science.

  “I love it. You’ll have to give me the recipe.”

  “I could, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  She laughed then ate some more. I could tell she enjoyed her dinner because when she brought her dish to the sink, it was empty.

  We cleaned the kitchen together, working proficiently as a team.

  I gave her the grand tour of the house, ending with the garage, which I had converted into a soundproof studio.

  “Wow, this is so cool.” She surveyed the room, her eyes lighting up. “Do you guys practice here?”

  “Sometimes. Joey has a studio in his place as well.”

  “It’s mind-boggling. Who would’ve thought playing in Trevor’s garage would have turned into something so huge?” She gestured to the room.

  “I give thanks each and every day for the blessings the guys and I have received. Dani too. So,” I clapped my hands to get the party started, “are you ready to make some music?”

  She shrugged, twisting her fingers.

  “Don’t be nervous. You’re going to love this.”

  My adrenaline kicked into full gear. I brought the room to life by flicking on the computer, the mixer, and lowering the mic stand adjusted for Joey’s height. I loved my studio. Trevor, Joey, and I recorded our songs in professional ones, but I had to say, I’d invested a shitload of cash into mine and could get equally impressive results for simple tasks such as laying down a few tracks for Drew’s song, which wouldn’t require much postproduction.

  I tested the sound, making sure it came through the speakers clearly. I grabbed two guitars, one for each of us, and placed one in her hands. She strummed a few chords. I handed her the other one, so she could decide which one she preferred. She chose guitar number one.

  “I can’t believe we’re about to do this. I’m so excited to hear what the end result will be.”

  Me too.

  “It’s going to sound great because the song is great.”

  She took a deep breath and stepped in front of the microphone.

  “We’re going to lay the music down first. If you want, you can run through it a couple of times to get comfortable. After we record, and you’re satisfied with the sound, we’ll lay down the vocals.”

  She breathed deeply again and shook her hand out, stretching her fingers. “I’m nervous.”

  “I get it. Remember, this is for you. It’s not going to be distributed worldwide, yet.” I winked.

  “You’re quite the comedian this evening.”

  “Hey, you never know.”

  “I do know, because no one will ever hear it.”

  Not if I have anything to say about it.

  I dared not vocalize my thought.

  She rehearsed the song, each run through sounding stronger, with more passion and feeling to it. These practice rounds were a great way to release pre-performance jitters.

  Once I had everything set and ready to go on my end, I gave her a heads-up. She confirmed we could begin. We ran through the song three or four times, until the two of us were satisfied. She did well. I would enhance the sound later, but I had to get her vocals down first.

  She stood still while I placed headphones over her ears. I planted a kiss on her lips.

  “You’ll be fine. There’s no rush, no studio cha
rges. We can record until you’re pleased with the outcome. So kick back, relax, and most of all, have fun.”

  She nodded but didn’t seem pacified. I found it adorable how anxious she had become about doing this. For me, performing was second nature. I never felt stage fright but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t support Drew and try to put her mind at ease.

  After adjusting the sound in her headphones, I told her to go with it and sing her heart out.

  The first go-round she missed her cue.

  “I’m sorry.” She withdrew.

  “It’s no big deal.” I made that point clear to her.

  The second go-round she made it through the first three lines then panicked. I assured her I had all night if that’s how long it took her to sing the song.

  The third go-round she made it through half the song. We were making steady progress. I recorded everything she did because we could pick and choose the best parts and mix them together.

  To help ease her tension, I suggested she close her eyes and feel the music. I also dimmed the lights.

  It worked. About the fifth or sixth take, she loosened up and became more relaxed with the process. Still, I had her sing the song again, so we had several variations.

  The final run-through was by far her best vocals. She had lost her inhibitions. With her hand on her heart and tears rolling down her cheeks, she sang. The words flowed with perfect pitch and cadence.

  An internal walk

  that led nowhere good

  Eyes wide open

  from where I stood

  Is it something I did?

  Is it something I said?

  A heart full of love

  now forever broken instead

  This part hit hard because I’d never intended to hurt her and didn’t want her blaming herself for my stupidity. It destroyed me that she’d felt her heart had been forever broken because of me too. I had no choice but to mend it and put the pieces back together.