Mike raises one eyebrow at the mention of my parents. He knows I usually stay in the garage apartment. They never would’ve known. “Did he?”
“Yeah.” I glance away and mumble, “Eventually.” I don’t need the whole world to know she spent the night. And she doesn’t either.
“Oh, did you hear her sing last night?” Sadie gushes. “And then Cadan was there. Omigod, he’s hot. I’m so disappointed they didn’t sing together. I wonder what happened between them.”
Everyone—Mike, Sadie, and John, another artist—turns to stare at me as if I’m supposed to supply the answer. I raise my hands and shrug. “Don’t look at me. How am I supposed to know?”
Mike gives me a flat stare. “Maybe because I heard through the grapevine that Marty didn’t pick her up until this morning.”
“Nice.” John gives me a nod of approval. “How was she? If her performance was any indication, I’m fucking jealous, dude. What she could do with that mic…”
“Jesus. Shut the fuck up already.” I get up. “I’m going next door. I’ll be back after you two find someone else to harass.”
They both crack up as they high-five each other. Sadie frowns in my direction, clearly unhappy to be witness to this conversation. I pull on my old, weathered leather jacket and get the hell out of there before they start needling me for details.
Two doors down is a local coffee shop. It’s Saturday, so the place is bustling with locals and a few brave tourists up from the Bay Area doing some Christmas shopping in our small artists’ town.
I get in line behind an older lesbian couple having a heated debate about what to get Patsy. The taller one insists on a weekend getaway for two at a spa in Calistoga. But her partner shakes her head. “No. I’m telling you, the last time Joan soaked in a mud bath, she came away with a nasty infection on her inner thigh. It took weeks for that thing to heal. She was a total bitch the entire time. Turns out Patsy wouldn’t sleep with her until it healed. For the love of God, I have to share an office with Joan. For my sanity, do not send her back to a spa.”
“Dammit. Now what?” the taller one asks. “I’m totally out of ideas for her.”
“Excuse me.”
I freeze and then blood rushes through my veins as my pulse quickens. Lucy. She’s two people ahead of them in line, but lets the person behind her order first.
“Have you considered the Times Two music retreat in Calistoga instead? One of the private wineries is hosting the event once a month, and I heard they’re booking some really great bands. They have packages from a basic stay to a four-star experience.”
The women in front of me start asking questions and scribbling down the information. I’m transfixed, watching her as she smiles easily at them, enjoying the conversation. She looks nothing like the sex kitten she’d been the night before. Now she’s wearing black pants and an oversized sweater that hides her curves. Her hair is pulled back with a thin headband, and her face is fresh, rosy from the winter chill. She’s fucking beautiful. And I can’t stop staring.
It’s her turn to order, and she still hasn’t noticed me. She’s sweet and considerate to the barista behind the counter, even when he forgets to give her back her change.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says when he rectifies his mistake. Stuffing two dollar bills in the tip jar, she smiles. “I’ve been there. Thanks for the help.”
The clerk gives her a look of gratitude, then his gaze turns to one of admiration as he watches her walk to the other end of the counter to wait for her order. An unexpected jolt of irritation hits me. I narrow my eyes, taking in his lip ring and the amateur tattoos covering his left hand. He’s got the same build as her rocker soul mate. I have no trouble seeing him onstage with her, pretending he has some sort of talent with an electric guitar.
“She’s adorable, isn’t she?” one of the ladies in front of me says to the guy.
“Gorgeous is more like it. What can I get for you lovely ladies this fine December afternoon?” He winks, charming them with his over-the-top delivery.
I roll my eyes and fix my attention on Lucy once again.
She’s staring right at me, her face now turning from a rosy blush to scarlet. I can’t help the cocky grin I know is spreading over my face. I like that I do this to her.
“Hey, long time, no see,” I call.
She averts her eyes for a moment and then raises her hand in greeting.
Oh, hell yeah. I’m going to enjoy this.
I order a plain black coffee in lieu of my regular double-shot latte just so I’m not stuck waiting for it. With cup in hand, I make my way to the bar filled with creamer carafes and proceed to doctor my drink. I strategically take my time and hurriedly put the lid back on when a different barista passes her a cup carrier with four drinks.
“Need a hand?” I ask when she fills the space beside me.
She glances up, surprise in her pretty blue eyes. “Sure. Half-and-half in these two.” Waving at the two cups closest to me, she grabs a couple of packets of raw sugar with her other hand.
Neither of us says anything as we stir the drinks. When the lids are replaced, I fall into step beside her and hold the door open.
“Thanks,” she says almost shyly.
“No problem.” We stand outside the shop and stare at each other as the wind picks up.
After a moment, she visibly shivers. Of course she does; she’s only wearing a sweater. No coat. “I better go. Jax is waiting.”
“Hangover?” I ask.
“The worst.”
“Right. Sweet-potato fries?” I’ve taken care of Jax at least a half dozen times since the big breakup. It’s always the same. Chai and sweet-potato fries.
“I’m headed to get them now,” she says.
I shake my head. “Baxter’s is closed this weekend. There was some sort of emergency with Jilly’s dad. The whole family went.”
“Oh no.” She bites her lip and noticeably steels herself.
I can’t help but wonder what that’s all about. Was she good friends with the Baxters? Seems unlikely, otherwise she would’ve already known. Everyone else did. Including Jax, who probably forgot in her misery.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a backup plan.”
Her teeth are chattering now. I can’t stand to see her so cold, so I drape an arm around her shoulder and pull her in close, sharing whatever warmth I can. She’s stiff and hesitant at first, but then relents and leans in, her body fitting perfectly against mine. I rub her arm and guide her toward my truck.
She glances over her shoulder. “I’m parked over there.”
“I’ll drive. Is there anything you need from your car?”
Her steps slow as she worries her bottom lip, but then she shakes her head. “No. I’m good.”
“Okay then.” A ball of tension in my gut dissipates. Jesus. What is it with this girl? The way she makes me feel by doing absolutely nothing is almost terrifying. Terrifying and miraculous at the same time. Holding the door open for her, I wait for her to climb in before making my way to the driver’s side. By the time I’m buckled in, she’s already got the fleece throw I keep in the truck tucked over her legs.
“I hope to God this blanket isn’t left over from your last one-night stand. But even if it is, I can’t make myself part with it. I’m frozen.”
My mouth falls open at her casual use of last one-night stand. Damn, is that how she sees me? I guess it would be. I laugh to cover the stab of regret. “Don’t worry. It’s been cleaned since then.” Shit! Why did I say that?
She plucks at the fabric gingerly and then closes her eyes. “Thank goodness for small favors.”
“I’m joking,” I say. “The blanket is new. The heater broke a few weeks ago. The blanket was for Jax before I got it fixed.”
“Oh.” Her eyes pop open. Is that relief I see on her face? Relief for what? That
she’s not wrapped up in a skanky blanket, or that I hadn’t confessed to participating in nefarious sexual behavior? “That was nice of you.”
“It’s just a blanket.”
She turns to look at me, her eyes searing me with that intense gaze.
“What?”
“It’s not. Just a blanket I mean.”
The light ahead turns red and I slow to a stop. Lucy smiles at me now, a secret smile, as if she knows something no one else does.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
She shrugs. “You take care of her. Jax. Blankets. Sweet-potato fries. Not letting her dwell on Brad.” Her smile fades and her expression turns serious. “I’m glad you’re there for her when I’m not.”
I frown. “She’s a friend. It’s what friends do.”
“It’s what rare friends do.” Grimacing, she turns and stares out the window.
The light turns green, and I step on the gas. The sadness streaming off her makes me want to stop the car and pull her into my arms, but I don’t. Something tells me that’s the last thing she wants right now. She’s blaming herself for not being available for Jax. A few minutes later, I pull to a stop in front of my parents’ house. With a twist of the keys, the engine goes silent. We both sit in the cab, not moving, not speaking.
When the silence becomes deafening, she turns to me. “Jax is waiting.”
I meet her questioning eyes. “We’ll be there soon. Want to talk about it?”
“About Jax?”
“No. About whatever it is that makes you think you’re a bad friend.”
Chapter Eleven
Lucy
Seth isn’t just looking at me, he’s seeing through me. Through everything on the surface. Past the stage-performer persona. And he’s witnessing that part of myself I keep buried. The knowledge of that makes me want to get as far away from him as possible. It also makes me want to cry and bury myself in his arms.
Since my dad died, I haven’t had anyone in my life who could really understand this part of me. The little girl who knows she isn’t good enough. Not good enough for Mom to stay. Not smart enough to recognize the changes in Dad when he first got sick and didn’t tell me. Not strong enough to leave my boyfriend the first time he betrayed me. And too self-involved to be there for my best friend when she lost the one person she loved most.
Intellectually, I know none of this is really my fault. But inside, down deep, I can’t stop the darkness from taking over. The knowledge that I’ve failed is always there.
“No.” I cringe, realizing I’d just validated his statement as fact. “I mean, I don’t think that. I’m just glad Jax has someone she can count on.”
His hands clutch the steering wheel. I can tell he wants to say something more, but he’s fighting with himself about it.
“Everything’s fine.” I pop the door open, wishing I’d remembered to get my coat from my car. “What are we doing here?”
“Sweet potatoes,” he says and exits the cab. He comes around the truck to stand next to me. “I’ll make the fries at Jax’s house.”
The tension caused by his unexpected question eases and a small smile creeps its way back onto my face. “You’re too much.”
“Come on. Dad’s likely in the greenhouse.” He holds his hand out to me.
I hesitate. We hardly know each other, and in the light of day, hand-holding seems almost more intimate than the acts we engaged in the night before. The gesture is sweet, and I feel stupid for my reaction. But I’m not looking for a boyfriend. And I’m surprised he hasn’t run already. Jax said he’s definitely a love-‘em and leave-‘em kind of guy. It would’ve been so much easier if I’d chosen my big one-night stand to be someone from out of town.
He raises an eyebrow and nods to his hand as if he’s issuing a challenge.
Suck it up, Moore. He doesn’t bite. Well, maybe he does a little, but in the best possible way. I glance away, praying he can’t read the thoughts on my face.
Our hands clasp, and he tugs me out of the truck and up the front walk. I feel small and feminine beside him. He’s not much taller than Cadan, so I’m not sure what the difference is. Perhaps it’s the sense that I’m being cared for.
The way he’s caring for Jax. Right.
This is about last night. He’s just being a friend. A really good one. The kind of friend who comes with history and shared heartache. Jax had told me about the accident, about how he lost his mate. His tragedy is gut-wrenching, losing his girlfriend like that, but loss is loss and Dad hasn’t been gone all that long. I’m sure Jax told him all about that too.
Dad was my hero. He was the person I leaned on, the one who was the anchor in my life. Without him, there’s a void and an ache inside me that doesn’t seem to go away. Ever. I can’t imagine what that’s like for Seth, but it makes me want to put a smile on his face even for just a brief moment. Maybe he feels the same.
“If we hurry, we might get out of here before Grace finds us,” he says.
“Grace?”
“My mother. Leo will be cool, but Grace? She’ll fall all over herself when she finds out I brought a girl home.”
It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “I take it that’s a rare occurrence?”
“More like a nonoccurrence. I don’t date.” He says it with finality. Clearly it’s not open for discussion.
“Ever?” I press.
“Not anymore.” He stops suddenly and looks down at me. “You didn’t think we were… I mean, you left this morning without even—”
I hold my hand up. “Whoa, cowboy. I’m not expecting anything. As far as I’m concerned, we’re just friends. I’m not the kind of girl who uses sex to find a boyfriend. Not that I want one. I know you’re well aware of my current situation. It’s enough to deal with the mundane details of life without adding any complications to the mix.”
The panic drains from his face, but he’s looking at me with an odd expression. I can’t quite place it. Uncertainty? Concern? Regret?
“Don’t worry about it. We’re good,” I say. “Now, where are these magical, hangover-curing sweet potatoes?”
“I don’t know about hangover-curing, but magical is true enough. My parents’ gift is in farming.”
I feel my eyes go wide. The result of two mates’ hard work is always something special. “Oh, really. Do I get a tour?”
He laughs. “Just a quick one. Remember what I said about Grace. Not to mention Jax is waiting.”
I salute him and quicken my pace. “Yes, sir. Show me the goods.”
That mischievous sparkle is back in his eyes. “I think you saw quite a bit last night.”
“Shut up.” I giggle and then clamp my hand over my mouth.
He laughs. “I hope it was worth it.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
He stops and eyes me up and down, his laughter gone, replaced by that hauntingly seductive smile. “I think I can imagine.”
Something flutters in my stomach and an echo of our shared desire overtakes me. I lick my lips, suddenly desperate for a kiss.
His eyes shift to my mouth, and I know he’s seconds from fulfilling the promise our bodies are making to each other.
I step back and pull my hand from his. “Friends?”
He lets out a slow breath and nods. “Friends.”
Our eyes meet and hold. We’re lying to each other, to ourselves. But neither of us is willing to admit it.
He waves his hand. “The greenhouse is waiting.”
I pull the sleeves of my sweater over my hands and huddle into myself.
“Don’t worry. It’s warm in there,” he says, noticing how cold I am. Though this time he doesn’t try to wrap his arm around me.
We bypass the barn-style storefront and head for the back of the property. Three large
white greenhouses gleam in the sun that’s trying to peek through the clouds. The place smells of salt and earth, that damp soil scent of a dense forest.
“It’s wonderful here,” I say.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he quips, smiling proudly. “Their skills are impressive.”
I believe him, but when we step into the first building, I stand still, awed by the rows and rows of lush greenery and the vibrant vegetables clinging to their vines. “Holy crap.”
“Wait until you try some.” He leads me up and down the rows until my phone starts to buzz.
“Oops. Jax.” I hold the text up to him. “She’s lost her patience.”
He grabs the phone and texts something back to her. It buzzes twice more. One more message and then he hands it back to me. “Tour’s over. The princess is dying.”
I laugh and check the phone. “Seth!” He’d sent her lewd messages without telling her they were from him. Now my phone is going off like crazy with WTF messages from her wanting to know what’s going on with me. I tap out a quick explanation and give him a dirty look.
Laughing, he grabs my hand again and tows me to the front, where he fills a brown paper bag with sweet potatoes, red and yellow peppers, strawberries, blueberries, and a bunch of other produce that is otherwise impossible to find at this time of year.
I miss out on meeting either of his parents as we run back to the truck and speed off down Highway 1 toward Jax’s house.
Along the way, Seth hands one of the bags to me. “Try these.”
Inside is a basket of blueberries. It’s December, and blueberries are a summer fruit. I’m skeptical.
“Trust me,” he says in a low, seductive tone.
There’s that challenge again, and so help me, I can’t resist when he does that. Not that eating a blueberry is a big deal. It’s the current sparking between us that has me squirming in my seat. Just friends. Uh-huh. He’s glancing between me and the road, so I take my time inspecting the fruit, then I flick my tongue out, delicately taking in the blueberry.
The truck swerves just a little.
“Whoa,” I say, the blueberry tucked against my cheek. “Everything okay?”
Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians Page 9