This Old Wind (Leanin' N Book 5)

by BA Tortuga

  “It’s going to be so much fun.” She hiccupped a little. “I mean, I love him so much, and he’s so sweet.”

  “Jesse is a good guy, kiddo. You know I like him a lot.” Hell, he’d introduced them. Jesse was a studio musician in Nashville, and Stevie had moved there within a year of them dating, finding a place easily with the makeup artists in town. There was always someone needing to be done up for a video or a concert.

  Stevie had fond memories of their farm and ranch-style upbringing, though. Him…well. He’d gone full-on rocker, hadn’t he? Ink and leather, high drama all the way.

  He shuddered, even though there was no one to see him. “You and your ranch dreams.”

  “Shut up, you dick.”

  “Language!” He cracked up. Suddenly he could see her, his little sister in pigtails running to his dad, tattling.

  “Yeah, I’m not wearing the gown yet. Asshole. Get here soon?”

  “I’m flying into Grand Junction. I’ll be there for brunch tomorrow. Promise.”

  “Thanks, Brother.” She chuckled, and it sounded sheepish as hell. “I feel all over the place.”

  “You’re a bride. That’s normal.” And he loved her more than was reasonable.

  “I guess. Not that you would know,” she teased.

  “Nope. I’m a dedicated bachelor type, as you well know.” He loved being openly bisexual, representing in public, and dating who he was attracted to. He didn’t make excuses.

  Luckily for him, he didn’t have to.

  He grinned. “I’ll be there, hon. Stop fretting.”

  “Are you bringing that little singer? Is her name Sapphire?”

  “Nope. She stormed out of my life about a month ago.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t generous enough.”

  “Ah. I’ve heard that about you,” she teased.

  “Yeah? Uh-oh. Who’s telling lies?” He laughed because they had this discussion a lot.

  “Well, I’m glad you’ll be here to stand up with me. I didn’t want big and crazy—just a handful of people that we love and a beautiful surrounding in the mountains.”

  His heart actually ached at how cool that was. God, he loved his baby sister. “I can’t wait. Seriously.”

  “Me either. We’re both so happy. It’s a little weird.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble,” Simon warned. “You’re allowed to be.”

  “Promise.” Oh shit. She was getting all teary.

  “Are you on the rag or something?” He went for crass, hoping to make her laugh.

  Stevie gasped. “No! Asshole!”

  “Well, cowboy up, baby girl.” Their old man said that to her a lot, and while Dad was…well, kinda worthless in the discipline department, he’d never once not loved them. Mom now? She could bust your balls and make you grateful for it. They were good people, and they loved their kids more than anything. He was so fucking lucky.

  So why was he so damn unhappy?

  “Yeah, I love you too.”

  “Good. See you in the morning. Love you.” He had to go before they got really maudlin.

  He had this dinner with Beth; then he needed to have the car brought. His assistant, Minnie, would pack for him while he was out. Simon left a note. “Pack my cowboy boots.”

  He needed to make sure he could cowboy up for Stevie. Then he would hightail it off the ranch and get back to the rock ’n’ roll life.

  It was where he belonged.

  Thank God for that.

  Chapter 4

  Michael pulled the truck into the newly grated drive at the Leanin’ N, surprised at how much was already going on with the preparation. People were…bustling.

  He glanced back at the girls in the rearview mirror. “Y’all have to be good, okay? Things look super busy, and I don’t want to have to hunt you down like rabid zombies.” He waggled his eyebrows, playing hard.

  “Daddy!” They both said it in the same tone.

  “Uh-huh. Take Haley to go potty and don’t lose her.”

  “We won’t.” Mickey leashed Haley up, and Chloe took the pup, both girls heading to the dog run. They would play ball with her to get the “been in the car” energy out of the old girl, who would then collapse in the cabin and sleep.

  They did love that silly hound, so he trusted they would keep her close by. They didn’t know a life without her. He whistled, hauling bags out of the back of the truck, the little Frozen and Descendants logos making him laugh.

  Stoney came out from the big main house, looking more and more like Sam Eliot every time, clapping him on the back before grabbing bags from the truck bed. “Hey, man! I have you in number six—one king and two twins next to the playground. That work?”

  “That’s perfect, thanks. I’ll move the truck in a minute. Just let me know where.” He winked, then let Stoney lead the way.

  “Anywhere in the lot should be fine. Once the wedding party arrives, they want the gates closed, no one in or out. For three days.” Stoney rolled his eyes dramatically.

  “Wow.” He blinked, surprised. He thought this was supposed to be a tiny thing. “Is it someone famous?”

  “I guess so? Some rock star family member. I didn’t recognize the name.”

  “Huh.” He’d have to dig a little. He kept up with the music scene some. “Well, now I have nerves.”

  “The bride requested country music. The entire party is a dozen people.” Stoney grinned at him, the expression pure indulgence.

  “Ah. Well, good on the bride for knowing music,” he teased. Wow. Renting the whole ranch for a dozen folks? Big money. He was little money. Not tiny money—he understood about saving and protecting what he had, but he was lucky to be in that middle-class set, and he knew it. He was aware folks who weren’t, and he worked hard to keep his babies cared for. They trusted him. Rhiannon had trusted him.

  “She’s very nervous, but a beautiful girl that’s very in love.”

  “Cool. Do I meet with the couple to make a set list, or is there a planner? Or have they given it to you?” Mmm. The cabin smelled like Geoff’s fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies.

  “Me? Plan a wedding? Shit, Mason’s planning. I’ll have him ask. How’s things going?”

  He grinned at Stoney. “Good. Busy—dance and gymnastics and robotics and guitar and piano. You know.”

  Life as a single dad was always busy.

  “Yeah. Quartz is setting stuff up, but he wants to give the girls a tour of the new game and movie room later.”

  “Nice, man. You’re moving up in the world.” He’d been doing accounting for the Leanin’ N since it was just a hunting lodge, kinda.

  “Right? We’re a going thing. Solidly booked for eighteen months, can you believe it?” Stoney looked a little stunned.

  “That’s fantastic, man. I’m so tickled for you.” Their good fortune was usually his, but even more, Stoney and Ford were friends.

  “And you know you’re our go-to wedding singer, accountant of joy, and glorious bringer of twins.” Stoney’s grin was wide and happy as a pig in shit.

  “I know! They’re with Haley at the dog run. Time for some exercise.”

  “How’s her arthritis?” Stoney helped him get all the stuff, including Haley’s bed and soft-sided crate.

  “Better, thanks to that stuff you suggested.”

  “Cool. You want to come up for lunch? Roast beef sandwiches and homemade fries.”

  “We’d love to. I’ll put Haley in, grab the girls, and we’ll be there.”

  The sound of brakes squealing hit the air before it turned into the two-cars-colliding sound, and he and Stoney dropped the gear and both went running. He heard Chloe scream, but it was surprise, not hurt. “Girls, you stay back!”

  “Daddy! Our truck!”

  Fuck.

  “Stay in the dog run!” he called, jogging over to where someone had run right into his F150. Jesus, he hoped no one was hurt.

  He hurried around, finding a Mustang convertible wrapped around his truck, a shockingly familiar man sitting in
the driver’s seat, dyed black hair and eyeliner distinct as hell.

  “Simon? Simon Petrie?”

  Those bright gray eyes widened, Simon’s mouth falling open. “Holy shit. Michael?”

  “Uh-huh.” He stood there, but soon Ford and Stoney were taking over, and he backed away. Not wanting to say anything at all.

  Lord, there was some history there, all encompassed in a wild tour, involving a conversion van, a summer of gullywhompers, and four months of the most amazing sex he and his wife had ever had.

  And they’d played around a lot.

  He grinned a little, but this was suddenly a very complicated situation, and not just because of the truck.

  “Michael?” Stoney waved him over. “We need to get insurance stuff done.”

  “Right.” He crawled into the driver’s side, because the passenger’s was crumpled. Damn, he hoped it wasn’t totaled. He loved this truck. “Can someone come to tow it, you think?”

  “I’ll call Dave down at the body shop in Glenwood,” Ford said.

  “I’m so sorry. I was—well, I was distracted, and my head was killing me.” Simon grimaced. “That sounds utterly stupid. The flight in was damn early. So much for no one knowing I’m up here…”

  “You did make an entrance,” Michael murmured, feeling a little like he was wrapped in cotton wool. “I’m with State Farm. I’ll call my agent. Did my equipment get damaged?”

  Stoney peered at the stuff they hadn’t unloaded. “It looks okay, but you’ll have to test it.”

  Simon stared at him through the sunglasses. “Oh fuck. Just tell me. I’ll replace anything.”

  “Yeah. You might oughta grab you some water. If it’s the altitude, that’ll help.” If it was drugs, Michael was going to be pissed. He started unloading, getting his guitar out of the front of the truck, grabbing the girls’ backpacks. “I’ll empty the truck out. I got renter’s on my policy.”

  “Can I help?” Simon offered, swaying some.

  “I’d rather you sat for a minute and have a bottle of water,” Ford said. “You hit pretty hard.”

  “Yeah. That’s best, I think.”

  “Daddy, is the truck broken?” Mickey asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

  “Girls, I said stay back. There’s glass.” And he didn’t want to… He couldn’t think about it.

  “Girls.” Simon looked at the kids and waved. “Sorry! I’ll make it better, I promise.”

  “Yeah. No worries.” He was going to unpack. Then he was going to lock himself and the girls in the cabin and just breathe for a second.

  “Okay.” Simon met his eyes, sunglasses pushed up. Those eyes were as true gray as the day they’d met.

  He nodded. “Stoney, let me call my insurance agent and check my equipment. The kids are wigged.”

  “Sure, man. Sure. Go grab them. If you need me, text.” Stoney waved him off, and he put his shit on the cabin porch, then went to get his girls.

  Kneeling down, he looked them in the eyes. “Hey, y’all. We have insurance. No one is hurt.”

  “Was he drunk?” Mickey asked. They’d learned a lot about the horrors of drunk driving already. Mountain roads, beer, and altitude didn’t mix.

  “Sleepy, I think. Very sleepy.” At least he hoped so.

  Chloe gasped. “It’s not good to drive when you’re sleepy. You always say so, Daddy.”

  “And this is why. Can you girls get yourselves settled in your room? I have to clean out the truck so they can tow it off.”

  “Okay, Daddy.” Mickey took his hand for a moment. “Then can we sit on the big bed and watch YouTube?”

  “You bet. Then we can go see Geoff and have lunch.”

  “Okay! Love you!” Chloe kissed his cheek and dragged Mickey off. Her tears had dried. Thank God everything but the truck seemed okay.

  He headed outside for the next load. He hadn’t expected to have to clear everything out of the damn truck.

  The crowd they’d drawn had cleared out, and it was just Simon and Stoney out there when he walked out. Michael almost turned right around, but he made himself keep going. The tow truck would be there soon.

  “I’m damn near done. I need to get all the movies and paperwork from the glove box.” It felt so weird, seeing Simon in person, seeing all these new tattoos and clothes that cost more than his house.

  “Okay, cool.” Stoney gave him a sympathetic look. “Want us to bring you guys lunch?”

  “The girls want to see Geoff. Do you think he could put some aside for us? They want to watch some YouTube, but that won’t be twenty minutes or so.”

  “I’ll tell him. No problem at all.” Stoney was a good guy.

  “Thank you so much.” He met Simon’s eyes. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Can I get, like, two minutes?” Simon walked over, and Stoney caught the hint, heading back to the main house, presumably to get lunch figured.

  “This was a surprise.” What else was he supposed to say?

  “You’re the wedding singer, huh?” Simon shook his head, lips curving into a smile. “My sister’s wedding. Seriously, though, if the insurance gives you any trouble, or if it doesn’t cover anything, you tell me. Or the guys here. They seem straight up, and they would get ahold of me.”

  “If the amps are busted, you’ll know. My guitar looks good, and my kids weren’t in the truck, so…”

  “Yeah, thank God.” Simon sighed. “I need to go find my sister. Can I—are you here for the weekend?”

  “Yeah. Stoney offered to let us have a little vacation. If anyone needs my information, just holler.” He would stay in or near the cabin with the girls. After he took care of the truck.

  “Cool. I want to sit and catch up.”

  “Sure.” Not that there was anything to catch up on. God knew, Simon was still hot as hell, if looking tired, but they didn’t really know each other anymore. “You’ve been busy.” Okay, that was utter crap. He hated small talk. Seriously. “I’ve got to get back to my family. I’ll see you.”

  “Yeah.” Simon gave him a little salute, which he remembered well from before.

  It was still hot.

  “Oh, Rhiannon,” he murmured under his breath. “You are laughing at me right now, aren’t you?”

  She would be pointing and laughing if she was there. His lady had loved puns, irony, and weird, awkward situations. Anything she could joke about later.

  And she’d been giving Simon bedroom eyes from the moment she’d seen him. Lord, they’d looked good together. He could have been happy just to watch, but to have a chance to join in had blown his mind.

  Rhiannon loved to fuck, but she always needed him there.

  That was why it had worked. Their love had been kinda epic, and he missed her. The ache was less sharp, but it was there. He guessed that would always be the case. The girls, though. God, it killed him that they would only know her through him.

  Hopefully he was doing it right.

  “Okay, that’s everything in,” he told the girls when he got his guitar set inside. “To the bed. Come on, Haley-dog! Snuggles.”

  Netflix, cuddles, maybe a hint of a nap, if he was lucky.

  Then food. Geoff always fed them well. Always.

  Haley jumped on the bed, curling up beside Mickey. He slid between them, hugging his babies, silently thanking the good Lord that they were fine. “Love y’all.”

  “Love you too, Daddy.” Chloe patted his hand. “You okay?”

  “This whole thing with the truck was a little scary, huh? Thank goodness we have insurance.” That was a good way to explain his stress away, for sure.

  “Poor truck,” Mickey said. “She’s had a hard day.”

  “She so has. Let’s watch a baking show, Daddy? Something happy?” Chloe found the Great British Baking Show.

  “Sounds good, baby girl. Something kind.” He needed to drift and breathe, and Mary Berry was perfect for that.

  “Something scrummy.” So clever, so funny, his Mickey.

  “Scrummy, it is.”
They settled in, and he was so damn lucky to be loved like this. No matter what else happened, his girls were his light and his life.

  I’m okay, Rhiannon. I made it.

  Simon sat on the edge of the bed in his cabin, rubbing his chest, which was a little sore from bouncing off the steering wheel. Jesus, he felt stupid, ignoring his pounding head, falling asleep right as he pulled into the parking area. He could have killed someone, all the excuses aside.

  His hands started shaking—Christ, he did this, and what? He fucking hit Michael and Rhiannon’s truck? Seriously? Thank God no one had been in the truck. Those kids… Two little girls. Why was he surprised those two had kids?

  She’d been hot as a firecracker, and Michael had been wonderfully yielding, taking him in, holding him tight. They’d both driven him crazy with their perfect damn wonderfulness. He thought of them fondly and often.

  And now he’d ruined their vehicle.

  “Oh my God, Simon. Are you okay?” Stevie burst through the door, her boots thudding on the floor.

  “I fell asleep like an asshole and wrecked the rental.” And a truck.

  “Shit!” Her voice rose, and she skidded to a stop, hands on her hips. “Was anyone hurt? Including you?”

  “I got some bruises. The truck was parked. It’s the wedding singer.”

  One dark eyebrow raised. “You tried to kill the wedding singer?”

  “No! He wasn’t in there.” He glanced up, trying not to dissolve with either laughter or shame. “I’ve slept with him.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Well, that was fast.”

  “No!” Jesus. “Not today. It’s been years. Me and him and his wife had a—”

  She slapped her hands over her ears. “La-la-la, I can’t hear you! La-la-la!”

  “Yeah, yeah. Well, I started off with a bang, but I swear I will be on my best behavior.” The bruises would be hidden under the suit.

  “I want to make sure you’re okay. I worry about you.”

  “I’m okay. I’m sorry I made such a mess.” He felt like a major screwup these days. Which was so stupid. What the hell was wrong with him?

  “You’ve got insurance and money, you’re not hurt, and no one was here to photograph it. All is well.”