The dry glasses hung in a row as she slipped them in the overhead rack. “Anyway, we were about to go on, and I totally chickened out.” She laughed, but the little girl inside her cried like a baby. “Charlie went on by herself and the rest is history. That’s when her mom started putting her in all those talent shows and cartin’ her around everywhere to sing. So, you see, I’m not a singer.”
He didn’t say anything, just chewed his food and watched her.
The silence was like a truth serum. “I mean, I sing around the house a little, or in the car.” She shrugged. “But who doesn’t? That doesn’t make me a singer. Sometimes I drive fast, but that doesn’t make me a race car driver. I cook for Lottie and me, but that doesn’t make me a chef.”
When she finally wound down, he still only stared at her and chewed.
“It doesn’t.”
“Mm-hm.” A long pull on his beer, another bite, and still he didn’t look away.
She ignored him and went about her business. There were dirty glasses to wash, and she put all of her focus on those tumblers and not the country singer inspecting her like a bug.
After a few minutes, the routine of dunking the mugs in the soapy water followed by the clean rinse relaxed her muscles, her mind blanked, and she got lost in the song coming through the speakers.
“Alto or soprano?”
“Alto, but my range covers an octave and a half.” Her head jerked up, and she locked eyes with the man who’d just tricked her.
He stood and threw some money on the bar. “Thanks for dinner, Hailey Not a Singer Odom.” His teasing grin covered the lower part of his face. “See ya ’round.” He left with one of her biggest secrets stuck in his back pocket.
Damn the man.
Chapter Fifteen
What a difference twenty-four hours made. Beau exited the truck in Hailey’s drive with a spring in his step. They’d found a backup singer who was talented and professional. Thank God.
He made his way to the stairs to his apartment. Walter was whining at the door when he opened it. “Hey, bud.” The dog’s tail swung back and forth, slapping the wall with a thunk, thunk, thunk while Beau rubbed him behind his ears. “Ready to go outside?”
Walter nearly bowled him over trying to get out the door.
“I guess so.” Beau laughed.
The dog took care of his business, then took off like a bullet to Hailey’s back porch.
Once Beau had disposed of Walter’s business he noticed the sullen little girl sitting on the porch with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hand, ignoring the dog trying to get her attention.
“Hey, Lil’ Bit, if you keep ignoring Walter, he’s going to sit on you.” Beau made his way to the porch steps and sat next to Lottie.
One hand went to the pup’s back, and she rubbed him from head to tail. Still, she didn’t speak.
“What’s up, girl? You haven’t asked me for a trip to the park, a movie, or the ice cream shop since I sat down. Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
She placed her elbows on the step behind her, stretched her feet out, and looked up at the sky. “Nothing.”
He matched her position and rubbed Walter’s ears. “It doesn’t look like nothing.”
“I’m just thinkin’. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
He would not laugh. It was an effort, but he kept it in. “I understand. I’ve got a lot on my mind too. Do you mind if I think with you?”
She went back to her original position with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hand. “Nope. It’s a good thinkin’ spot.”
Long minutes passed and neither said anything. The back door opened, but Beau caught May’s eye to let her know everything was alright. She nodded and went back inside.
After he felt he’d given Lottie enough time to do her thinking, he leaned forward and rested his elbow on his knees. “I didn’t know you had a guitar.”
She scratched her shin. “Yeah, I got it last Christmas.”
“Can you play it?”
A long-suffering breath that sounded more like a ninety-year-old than a nine-year-old blew through her lips. “No, I never learned how.”
“Wanna learn now?” As the idea took shape in his head, he liked it more and more. “I could teach you.”
Her head slowly rotated, so she was facing him. A hint of the girl he knew danced in her eyes. “You’d do that?”
“Sure.”
“Okay!” She jumped up so fast she startled the dog, who’d given up trying to get her attention and was now stretched out in the sun, napping. “Sorry, Walter. I’ll be right back, Beau.”
He chuckled. “I’ll go get my guitar. See ya back here in five.”
By the time he got back, she was sitting on the stairs with the instrument across her lap, talking to Walter.
“That’s a nice-lookin’ guitar.” He walked past her on the steps and took a seat on one of the patio chairs. Come on up here, so you can look at me.”
She took the seat across from him.
He set his guitar on the ground and held out his hand. “Here. Let me have it.” He took the smaller instrument and began to tune it. “The first thing we do is tune the guitar.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do that.” She fidgeted with her hands in her lap.
He chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. How would you know to do it? That’s something I’m gonna teach you.”
She grinned. “Okay.”
Once he had the guitar sounding the way he wanted, he handed it back to her. He spent the next hour showing her the correct way to hold the instrument and pick. Then a few basic chords to get her started and not overwhelm her. When May poked her head out the door to give her a ten-minute warning for dinner, he was surprised that so much time had passed. “You practice those chords, and we’ll have another lesson in a few days.”
“I will.” Her skinny legs dangled from the chair, and she swung them back and forth.
He placed his guitar in its case. “What were you thinking so hard on earlier?”
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Today at school Piper was talking about the fishing trip my dad took her on.”
Ahhh, now he got it. That asshole father of hers had hurt her again. “And that made you feel left out?”
She raised her blue eyes that shimmered with tears. “Why doesn’t he like me?”
Oh, good God, he wasn’t prepared for this, but he couldn’t just let her hang in the wind. He took her into his arms and hugged her. He also wouldn’t lie to her. “Honestly, Lottie, I don’t know if he dislikes you or not. But I do know that if he doesn’t like you, then he’s crazy. You’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever met.”
That seemed to straighten her spine a little. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He ran his big hand down her hair to her back. “Sometimes grown-ups are selfish and only think about themselves. I think that’s what your dad is doing. I don’t think it means he doesn’t like you, or that he likes Piper more.” He caught the lone tear that rolled down her cheek with his thumb. “The truth is, he likes himself better than anyone. It’s wrong, but it has everything to do with what’s wrong with him and nothing to do with you. I don’t know if that makes you feel better, though.”
She swiped her hand under her nose. “It does a little.”
“So, you like fishing?”
A quick shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never been.”
“Well, we have to fix that. I hear there are some pretty good fishing holes around here. Maybe on your mom’s day off you two can come with me to cast a line.”
Lottie stood and gripped her guitar around the neck. “She won’t. She never does fun stuff like that.” She kept her eyes down and shuffled her feet. “But I’d still like to go.”
“We’ll have to ask your mom.”
“Okay.” She petted Walter’s head. “Thanks for the lesson.”
“You’re welcome.” After she retreat
ed into the house, he made his way to his truck, and for the second night in a row he made his way to Boon’s. This time, to try and convince his cranky landlady to go fishing with him and her daughter.
Hailey couldn’t believe her freaking luck. How was it that the electricity had gone out in half the building? Thankfully, the dance floor and bar area were still lit. However, the area where the weekly darts tournament took place was completely dark. Thirty guys could drink a lot of beer, and she needed that cash to make all her monthly expenses. So she had to try and correct the issue as soon and as cheaply as possible. Fingers crossed it was only a blown fuse.
For a fleeting moment, she wished she could just load up Lottie, blow out of Zachsville, and never look back. Run away and live without worrying about ex-husbands, terrible fathers, and the daily grind of running this bar.
Guilt sideswiped her, and she took it all back. She didn’t mean it. There was nothing she wanted more than to keep this bar afloat. But on bad days, sometimes that was hard to remember.
She propped the storage room door open with a walking stick she kept by the closet for the purpose. The latch was broken and it locked every time it closed. One more thing that needed to be repaired, but it was way down on the to-do list.
A wall of cardboard greeted her when she shined the flashlight from her phone into the small room. She tried to slide a box of some unknown items out of the way to get inside to find the fuse box.
Her knee went into the side of a wooden box where they stored extra stage lights. “Shit! Damn! Hell! That hurt.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’ve got a mouth like a sailor, Hailey Odom.”
She’d know that teasing tone anywhere. “Yeah, well, stick around. It’ll probably get worse.” The beam of the light went right to Beau’s face. “What are you doing here?”
He squinted and moved her hand so she wasn’t blinding him. “I came to see you.”
“Why?”
“Lottie and I would like you to go fishing with us on Sunday.”
“I can’t.”
“She said you’d say that.”
“I have to clean the house—wait, what?”
He leaned against the door frame. “She said you never do anything fun and that you’d say no.”
It was a good thing he couldn’t see her face because she was sure she looked like she’d just been gut punched. “She said…”
“That you don’t do fun stuff.”
He was only baiting her, but it was the perfect bait. “Fine, what time?”
Even though the light was aimed at his chest it still picked up the brightness of his huge smile. “How about one? That’ll give you time to clean the house. Does that work?”
“Yeah, that’ll work.”
He glanced around like he’d just realized that they were in a pitch-dark room. “What are you doing in here?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, the electricity is out on this side of the bar. The fuse box is in here somewhere, but I have to move boxes around and doing it one-handed is difficult.”
“Why didn’t you ask Newt to help you?”
“Because I’m a grown-ass woman, and I can change a fuse by myself.”
Another inspection of the space. “How’s that workin’ out?”
“Shut up.”
He chuckled. “Hold the light and I’ll try to move some of these boxes around.”
“You don’t—”
“Just hold the damn light, and let me help you.” He began to disassemble a tower made of medium-sized cardboard boxes. “I swear, I’ve never known anyone as stubborn as you.”
“I’m not stubborn. I’m self-sufficient.” She’d learned a long time ago that nobody was going to do her any favors. If something needed doing, she had three choices. Pay someone to do it, go without, or do it herself. She’d chosen to learn to do most things herself.
“You are that.”
Pride straightened her spine. She had no idea why his opinion of her mattered, but apparently, it did. “Thank you.”
“It’s not always a good thing, Hailey. You should learn to ask for help.” He picked up one of the Christmas trees they stored in the closet and moved it outside the room. “There’s no crime in it. Is the fuse box on this wall?”
“Yes, and I’ll take that under consideration.” She wouldn’t. He didn’t know her, or know that the number of people she could count on was very, very small.
“Let me have your phone, so I can shine the light back here.” There was another graduated tower of boxes. He stretched and leaned to try and grab the top box, but it was too high, and he couldn’t reach it.
“Can you use yours?” The thought of giving up their only light source didn’t sit well with her.
“I left mine in the car.”
“Fine.” She handed him the phone. “Let’s get this thing done before my phone dies and we lose the light.”
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I can’t get back there. The space is too small.”
“Let me see if I can do it.”
“Be my guest, but I don’t think you’re going to be able to move it.”
It was a tight fit, and her body slid against his. “Oh, sorry.”
“No problem.” His reply sounded like a guitar string strung too tight.
There were three boxes below the two on top. She had to go slow and try to move them out of the way. It wasn’t working. Whatever was in the bottom three was heavy, and there wasn’t that much room to maneuver around back there.
“I think we’re going to have to figure out how to get those boxes off the top.” His disembodied voice came from the other side of the tower.
“No, I think I can get it.” She ran her hand between the box and the wall. “It would help if I had some light.”
He didn’t answer.
“What are you doing?” The frustration in her voice rang loud and clear, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.
“Hang on. I’m going to see if I can reach them with this stick.”
“No!” But it was too late. The door closed with the finality of a prison cell.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’ve locked us in here. The door can’t be opened from the inside.”
“Okay. No big deal. We’ll call Newt to come get us out. In the meantime…” He handed her the phone. “Shine that up there.”
She did, and he wiggled the box to the side. He reached up and grabbed it, then repeated the process with the other smaller box. “Um, I’m going to need some light if you want me to finish this.”
“Beau.”
“Yeah.”
“My phone died.”
“Are you kiddin’ me?”
“No.” She couldn’t see her hand before her face. The blackness was so dense that its cold presence pushed against her skin.
He snorted. “So we’re locked in a storage closet at your place of business in the pitch dark with no real hope of being rescued until someone misses us.”
“Yes.” The panic zigzagged up her throat. She hated the total blackness and the suffocation of the confined space.
She could hear him moving around while she counted to ten. “What are you doing?”
“I’m moving these boxes, so we have a place to sit.”
Sit? Like they were about to have a tea party in a room as black as space without enough oxygen for the two of them? “I…um…can’t.”
“Sure you can. Come toward my voice.”
Paralyzed. The air in the room wasn’t sufficient to fill her lungs. Her feet wouldn’t move. Hell, none of her muscles moved, except her heart, which was running laps around her chest. “I really can’t, Beau.”
Warm, minty breath fanned across her cheek, and his strong arm went around her waist. “Hailey, are you alright?”
“No.” The two letters barely eked through her constricted vocal cords. “Can’t breathe.”
“Are you claustrophobic?”
A tiny moan was all
she could muster.
His other arm wound around her shoulder, and he held her to him. There was nothing sexual in the move, but every cell in her body went on high alert.
“Shhhh, I’ve got you,” he soothed. “Let your body relax into mine. I’ll hold you up.”
Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, her constricted muscles began to ease. “Thank you.” Thank goodness, her voice no longer sounded like she was living through Armageddon. “I’ve been like this since I was a kid.”
“I’m terrified of clusters.”
“What?”
He gave a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, anything clustered together, living or not living. And if the things are moving, then go ahead and sedate me.”
She felt the shudder that rolled through his body. “That’s weird.”
“I open up to you, and you mock me.” He adjusted his hands to her lower back. “I thought the ladies liked it when men showed their vulnerable side.”
The more they talked, the more she melted into him. “Yes, we like vulnerable men, but your cluster phobia is…”
“Endearing? Adorable? Charming?”
“Yeah, that’s what I was going to say.” She laughed, and her body moved against his. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was happy to see her. “Beau.”
“Ignore it.”
“But—”
“Bad idea, remember? Just ignore it.”
Easier said than done. Both her hands looped around his neck, and her hips pressed into him ever so slightly. “It’s kind of hard to ignore.” There was something thrilling knowing she could have this effect on a man like him.
His lips were at her ear again. “You are strikin’ a match to dry kindlin’, Hay. In about a minute, you’re going to know how hard it is to ignore me.”
“Promise?”
“We agreed this was not smart.”
“I’ve done dumber things.” The anonymity of the darkness cut the brakes on a locomotive of recklessness she’d vowed never to ride again, and she was helpless to stop it.
“Me too.” His warm lips burned a path from her ear to the corner of her mouth. “You sure?”
“Yes. I want—”
“Hailey!” Her manager Newt banged on the door.
She and Beau broke apart like someone took a cattle prod to them.
Running After a Heartbreaker (Brides on the Run #4) Page 12