The Maxwell Series Boxed Set - Books 4-6

by Alexander, S. B.

  I lifted an eyebrow. “You’re playing matchmaker?” That seemed so unlike Lowell. “Don’t answer that. I hooked up with him one time. Then he took off.” I liked Mack. He was built like a stone wall, every inch of him hard and ripped. He also had dirty-blond hair, a trait I adored on men. Not to mention, he was a badass dude who rode a Harley when he wasn’t racing Ducatis around the track. But looks weren’t everything. Mack had a dark side that I wasn’t all that enamored with. He’d done a few stints in jail, had been into drugs in his late teens, and he was a mean drunk. I couldn’t say I was all that upset when he’d left.

  “He’s coming home,” Lowell said a bit excitedly as he directed his power wheelchair toward the office. “Maybe when we get busy around here, I can coax him into picking up the slack, free of charge.”

  “He’s not my type,” I lied. Physically, he was. It was his lack of morals, his habits, and his past that I didn’t care for. Everyone does things they regret. A nervous laugh broke out in my head. Mack could be sweet, but he was also carefree. Therefore, I doubted he regretted anything he’d done.

  The sound of an engine severed our conversation. I swung my gaze from Lowell to the red Nissan pulling into the driveway. Roxanne had perfect timing. I let out a quiet sigh, thankful I didn’t have to argue with my brother about why Mack wasn’t the guy for me.

  Roxanne got out of her car, dressed in flip-flops, shorts, and a cotton shirt that hung off one of her shoulders. Then she ducked back into the car and emerged with a canvas bag.

  My brother stopped in front of the open bay door. “Roxy, it’s too early for you to be here on a Saturday. You usually waltz in around ten at night.”

  On those Saturdays, when Roxanne and I weren’t working, we would hang out at my house with Lowell, watching movies, eating, and drinking.

  She dipped into her bag and produced a bottle of red wine. “I’m not working today. So your sister and I are going to have some fun tonight.”

  Lowell tossed a look my way. “Are you going out?” More sadness than curiosity blanketed his question.

  Suddenly, I felt as if he’d slapped me in the face. I shouldn’t have felt bad for wanting to spend a Saturday night with my best friend, but I also didn’t want to leave my brother alone. He’s thirty years old and self-sufficient around the house. You need to get out for a night and let loose.

  “We’re going to The Cave to listen to music and have a few drinks,” Roxanne said. “Maybe I can coax your sister into performing for open-mic night.”

  “Do you want to come?” I asked Lowell. “You could play the piano while I sing.” I would feel more relaxed with Lowell there.

  “You mean you’re going to get up on stage?” Roxanne’s voice hitched so high, she could have passed as Minnie Mouse.

  I shrugged. I’d told her I would think about it, and I really hadn’t. If Lowell tagged along, I would feel more at ease with performing in front of a crowd. Or if he played while I sang, that would help tremendously. He was better at the piano than me, anyway. We both played but not as much as we had when we were kids and our mom made us practice relentlessly. She had also been a great piano player and our teacher.

  “No,” Lowell said. “You girls have a good time.”

  “Please?” I asked my brother. “It would be like old times when we would put on a show for Mom.”

  “My piano playing is rusty, and I have a date with a movie tonight.” He wheeled away.

  My heart broke as I walked over to Roxanne. “I should stay home.”

  Her small fingers circled my arm. “Absolutely not.” Her voice was low. “You need this, and Lowell is a big boy.”

  I stabbed a thumb at the Ducati. “I have to finish the bike,” I lied.

  She tugged me out of the garage. “That’s your bike, and therefore, you can work on it anytime.”

  Busted. I didn’t have any more excuses since we didn’t have any other bikes to work on. I’d finished the Yamaha, and wine did sound great.

  As we headed for my house, which was located behind the shop, Roxanne inspected my fingers. “Girl, you better scrub those nails.”

  I yanked my hand from hers. “I like the grease. My dirty nails will keep the men away,” I teased. Or maybe I wasn’t kidding. Actually, hooking up with someone sounded like a way to relieve some stress.

  “Or grease on a woman could attract the wrong man,” she said.

  A light wind ruffled the trees that lined the long driveway leading up to my two-story house. Once we were inside, Roxanne headed straight to the kitchen. We had a wide-open floor plan. After Lowell’s accident, my mom had remodeled to accommodate him so he could get around easily in his wheelchair.

  Roxanne set two wine glasses down on the marble island. “So, I found out through Mrs. Maxwell that Kody is working at The Cave tonight.”

  Just like that, we were back to men. Maybe it was best I concentrated on something other than grease and bikes and DNA results. Maybe Kody would be my hookup for a night of glorious, sweaty, mind-blowing sex.

  As Roxanne opened the bottle of wine, I washed the grease off my hands. Once they were clean, I wrapped my fingers around the stem of the wine glass.

  “Cheers.” Roxanne clinked her glass with mine. “Here’s to a fun night.”

  I took a big gulp of wine, the alcohol immediately warming my body. I let out a huge sigh as my muscles loosened.

  She grinned from ear to ear. “See? Drink more. You’ll relax.” Padding over to the French doors that spilled onto our back deck, she sipped her wine. “I just love the view here.”

  I joined her, taking another mouthful of wine. My mom had planted lilac trees, a flower garden that traveled along the perimeter of the fence with rose bushes and different types of colorful perennials interspersed in between. To complement the lush gardens, a lighted waterfall donned one corner of the yard.

  The sun’s rays streaked into the kitchen, highlighting the sparkles around Roxanne’s brown eyes that appeared sad all of a sudden.

  I nudged her with my elbow. “Are you going dark on me?”

  She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I was thinking about your mom. She spent so much time out there.”

  “Roxanne,” I warned as hot tears threatened. “This is supposed to be a fun night. Don’t get all melancholy on me, or else I won’t go out.”

  She drank half her glass of wine in one gulp. “We take a taxi tonight.”

  No argument from me. The Cave wasn’t far from the house, but it wasn’t exactly walking distance, either. Considering I was feeling no pain after downing half my glass, a taxi was the way to go.

  “Come on, let’s get ready.” I started for my upstairs bedroom.

  She grabbed the bottle of wine then followed. “So, Gayle told me that Jake Trent is in town.”

  I tossed a look over my shoulder when I reached the top landing. “The former manager of the band Zeal?”

  “Yep. Your favorite band.”

  I’d seen Jake one time when Roxanne and I were in Boston on New Year’s Eve a year or two ago. But it wasn’t Jake I was gaga over. His brother JJ was the dreamy one.

  I continued down the hall, passing two bedrooms and a bathroom before reaching my room at the end. After my mom passed, I moved into the master bedroom since it had an en-suite. Lowell had his own private section of the house downstairs.

  I plopped down on my bed while Roxanne set the wine bottle on my dresser near the bathroom. Then she got comfortable in the window seat that I loved above everything else in the house. The view of the backyard was even better up there, especially at night when the landscape lighting provided a soft glow around the gardens and the waterfall.

  Roxanne tucked her legs underneath her. “Are we still on for the cookout at Kody’s house tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t go. I feel like the adults didn’t want us there. Raven kind of forced the invitation on them.”

  She pursed her red lips. “We’re going, even if I have to drag you. This is
fate, girl. You meet a handsome guy and his family, get invited to handsome guy’s house to meet more of his family. So if you don’t hit it off with Kody, at least you’re out meeting more people. I wouldn’t mind finding a hunk like Kody. Maybe his triplet brothers will be with him.”

  Roxanne hadn’t dated much, either. She’d had a boyfriend for a brief time when we were in nursing school, but they’d broken off their relationship after she graduated. It had been her decision. She’d said he just wasn’t doing it for her.

  “Are you my agent for hot guys all of a sudden? And may I remind you I like men with dirty-blond hair, not jet black.” That trait hasn’t stopped you from thinking about hooking up with Kody.

  “Seriously?” she asked. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t date Kody?”

  “Okay. He’s drop-dead gorgeous, even with black hair.”

  She snorted. I giggled.

  Then she darted into my walk-in closet. “Let’s find something sexy for you to wear. If you’re going to be on stage, we have to give the audience the wow factor.”

  Again, I giggled. The wine was hitting me. So I set my glass on the nightstand. I had to pace myself. If I kept drinking, I would be a drunken mess before we even left the house.

  I toed off my boots. I always wore boots when I worked in the shop. My dad had taught Lowell and me safety around engines, tools, and made sure we knew how to protect ourselves. “So, Mack is coming home.” I crossed the room, digging my bare feet into the softness of the carpet.

  I didn’t get a response from Roxanne. Normally, when I brought up Mack, she had a barb or something to say, as though he wasn’t good for me.

  When I walked into my closet, she was pulling out sexy underwear from a built-in drawer. “You should wear this black ensemble.”

  I snatched the thong and lace bra from her. “I will choose my undergarments. Thank you. Did you hear what I said about Mack?”

  “Loud and clear.” Her long, painted red nails shined under the closet light. “You shouldn’t get serious with him.”

  I didn’t plan on getting serious with Mack. My life didn’t warrant a serious relationship. But I was a lady who liked sex, and I hadn’t been with a guy since Mack, and we had some serious sexual chemistry in bed.

  Roxanne pulled out a black miniskirt. “I know you like those badass biker dudes, but he’s not for you.”

  She thought I deserved better, and so had my mom, although I’d had no interest in Mack when my mom was alive. Even though she’d adored Mack, who had put on a facade in front of her, she’d thought his eyes wandered too much and that if I ever got serious with him, he would break my heart. I hadn’t agreed with her. With the crush Mack had had on me for so long, I probably would have broken his heart. Actually, I believed I had because right after we’d had sex, I told him it was a mistake. He’d wanted something more than a one-night stand, and I hadn’t. I would bet that was the reason he’d hightailed it out of town. Sure, he had his life on the race circuit, but at the time, he hadn’t been scheduled to leave for a week after we’d had sex.

  She examined the skirt. “Wear this.”

  “Are you trying to get me laid?” I teased. Kody popped in my head again.

  “Sure. I won’t deny it.”

  We both laughed.

  It was time to unwind for a night and forget about cancer, mutated genes, and anything else that would bring down our mood.

  Chapter Five

  Kody

  I sat at the bar at The Cave. The place was empty save for Mr. Robinson, who was stocking liquor bottles on the shelves and loading beer into the refrigerator. He’d purchased The Cave about five months prior and had changed up the venue. The club was no longer a teenybopper club like it had been when I was in high school. The former owner, Mr. Young, had had problems with the high school crowd fighting and getting too rowdy. Mr. Robinson had a different vision for the club. He was interested in finding the next big star for his new label, Jewel Records, which he’d started last year.

  But I wasn’t about to become the next big talent for Mr. Robinson. He didn’t deal with family, and since Kade and Mr. Robinson’s daughter, Lacey, were dating, I was considered family. Sure, he gave me advice when I asked, and had even gone so far as to list the record labels I could contact. I wasn’t looking for easy, anyway. My father had taught all us boys to work hard for what we wanted.

  The clang, clang, clang of liquor bottles sang a tune as Mr. Robinson stocked the back shelf behind the bar. “You look despondent. Are you worried about your mom?”

  I lifted my gaze from the rejection letter I’d been staring at for at least fifteen minutes, waiting for Jake to show up so we could prepare the stage for the night, do our sound checks, and tune the instruments. I could get started, but the letter kept me immobile.

  “I always worry about my mom, but no. She’s doing well. The CT scan revealed that one of the arteries in her heart had narrowed. So when she was playing with Raven, she overexerted herself to the point that caused a lack of oxygen to the heart. The bottom line—my mom needs to exercise more, take a baby aspirin daily, and lower her cholesterol.”

  He bent over to lift a case of beer then set it down on the counter next to the fridge.

  I banged my head on the bar. “I heard back from a few of the labels.”

  He ponied up to my end with deep lines surrounding his green eyes. He resembled Lacey in so many ways with his eye color and brown hair. But since I’d met Mr. Robinson, gray hairs had begun growing in his sideburns.

  He wiped the stainless bar top more out of habit since the bar was clean. “What’s their response?”

  I picked up one letter. “‘I’m sorry to inform you, blah, blah, blah, but we’re in the market for an edgy boy band.’ Are boy bands the in thing?”

  “Not necessarily. Each label wants something different. But in my opinion, I’ve always been successful with boy bands. In fact, our fan polls match our ticket sales at Jewel Records. Even when I owned the Eko label, boy bands were popular.”

  I’d jammed with Zeal on New Year’s Eve one year, and that experience had been fucking amazing—even more so since I had been playing alongside Vin, Zeal’s lead guitarist and one of my idols. If Vin had asked me to the join the band, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But I liked writing songs, and I was a one-man show. I played the guitar and sometimes the piano. I drew in a crowd at Rumors, Mr. Robinson’s other club in Boston, the same one my brother Kade managed. I had girls screaming my name. So I didn’t understand the rejection.

  He chuckled. “Don’t beat yourself up. Sometimes it takes years to get discovered. You just got to keep playing and writing songs.”

  I wasn’t sure how long I would wait to get discovered. Berklee might be the road to take. Or maybe I should consider my childhood dream to become an engineer or find a decent job, especially if I couldn’t shake open the creative side of my brain and get words down into some form of a song or two. My dad had been lenient, allowing us to find ourselves after high school. But I couldn’t keep living in our boathouse-turned-man-cave, now turned mini-apartment, forever. The little money I made from gigs at Rumors and helping Mr. Robinson at The Cave wasn’t exactly enough to rent an apartment or pay for all the other bills associated with living on my own. Even the nice savings I had in the bank would only go so far.

  “Will labels consider just my song writing?”

  He studied me for a long minute. “I thought you wanted to sing too?”

  I shrugged. “Being on stage is okay. I wouldn’t mind hearing my music come out of someone else’s mouth.” I was growing tired of girls jumping on stage and mauling me. I didn’t enjoy that part of gigs. Even when I was in high school, I hadn’t liked when girls stared at me or whispered about me. Out of Kade, Kross, Kelton, and me, Kelton was the attention hogger. He loved when girls drooled at him.

  Mr. Robinson mashed his lips into a thin line. “My advice is to try again, only this time, ask them to consider the song and not the singer. Some re
cord producers will look past the voice if they like the song, but not all of them do that. Sometimes you need to be crystal clear.” He wiped the bar again. “My other piece of advice—if you want record producers to consider the song, then find someone who has a killer voice and do a demo CD or consider a band.” He went over to the sink.

  There was that word again—band.

  “Mr. Robinson, I know you have the family rule, but if I weren’t family, would you consider my music?” I’d never come out and asked him. I’d always been afraid of his answer until now. One more rejection wouldn’t sting that bad.

  He angled his head, the light over the bar bringing out his forty-something age.

  My pulse picked up. He was taking a long time to answer the question. Maybe his answer would cut deep.

  He frowned. “I’m sorry to have to say this. Your music doesn’t wow me. It’s too mainstream. What I mean by that is the brooding songs are a dime a dozen, and while those types of songs do sell, they all sound the same. There are a ton of Kodys out there. You have to differentiate yourself.”

  I stiffened. I felt as though he was dissing on Mandy more than me. I’d written most of my songs around how I felt about her passing and how I missed her. Yet, I could see some truth to what he was saying. I’d listened to many songs from singers and bands that spoke to breakups or sadness.

  Footsteps clobbered on the wood floor. “This world is in trouble if there are a ton of Kodys out there,” Jake said behind me.

  Mr. Robinson grinned as he checked his watch. “Everything okay at the house, Jake? You’re late.”

  Jake was renting a room from Mr. Robinson and helping at The Cave while he tried to get his own music off the ground. He’d been under his brother, JJ’s, shadow for too long. Not to mention they’d had a falling out. He wasn’t ready to talk about it, and I didn’t pry. I knew all too well that any problems, fights, or family business among my brothers and me wasn’t for anyone’s ears, either.

  Jake ducked under the bar top. “All good.” He stood next to Mr. Robinson, who was a head taller than Jake. “I’m late because I was talking to my dad. He sends his regards.”