Friendship, Texas Series: Volume 1

by Magan Vernon

  “Yeah, Dad said the same thing,” Eddie said, sitting on a log by our tiny campfire.

  We’d been camping ever since the first grade, and it was always just in our backyards where either my parents or his parents could see us from the back porch.

  “I think they think we really will get married or something,” I said.

  “Ew, marry you?” Eddie said with a laugh, plopping down on a log by the fire. The rule was that one of our parents had to light it and put it out, but we could still roast marshmallows.

  I shoved his shoulder before snatching the bag of marshmallows from his hands and taking the seat next to him. “Hey! I’m not that bad.”

  “What about me? What would you say to marrying me?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabbed one of our skewers and handed me the other one.

  I shrugged, putting the marshmallow on the stick then holding it over the fire. “I don’t know. I guess it could be worse.”

  “Brooke Carrington, are you saying you want to marry me?” Eddie asked.

  “No! I’m just saying that if I had to choose between you or your gramps’s dog, I’d choose you.”

  He laughed, putting his marshmallow next to mine over the fire. “Good to know that I’m preferred over Blue Bonnet.”

  We ate our marshmallows in silence, and I snuck quick glances at my best friend. We were going into the middle school where people got demerits for holding hands, and there would be school dances. I didn’t think I’d ever feel that way about the boy next door.

  “So if we’re gonna get married and all, does that mean you’re gonna show me what’s under your training bra?” Eddie asked before popping a big marshmallow in his mouth.

  “In your dreams, Jahid.”

  After getting the house semi together and eating our weight in Italian food, Sonny and Nicky left for work at the restaurant, and Noah and Clay headed for an event at the ranch.

  That just left Eddie and me.

  He slumped down on the worn sofa. “Man, I thought my trainer was hard on me. His reps aren’t half as bad as trying to carry a bed through a house when Sonny is staring more at his phone than actually helping.”

  “Sorry, I guess good movers are hard to find,” I muttered.

  Eddie looked over the back of the couch at me, opening his arms. “Come. Sit with me and stare at this TV that took Clay way too freaking long to hook up.”

  I wrinkled my nose, thinking of the way my t-shirt clung to me, drenched in sweat, and how I had to smell probably worse than I felt. “I’m going to hop in the shower first.”

  “Want me to join you?” he asked.

  “Um ...”

  He stood up, grinning and slowly peeled his shirt off before tossing it on the couch.

  I’d seen Eddie without his shirt plenty of times growing up and even more now on magazines. But seeing the newly ripped six-pack and those hipbones that dipped into his Levi’s, I was practically panting like a dog in heat.

  “Do you expect me to whip my shirt off too like some girl in a music video? Because if I did that, I’d probably break something.”

  The grin widened on Eddie’s face as he sauntered around the couch until he was right in front of me.

  “Then I’ll take it off for you,” he whispered in a husky voice.

  I gulped; doing the only thing left to do, I lifted my arms over my head.

  He pulled my shirt off as if it wasn’t an old sweaty thing, and his eyes roamed over my now bare chest and stomach. I wasn’t exactly the most in-shape person and my wider hips and skinny waist were something I’d hated in high school. But as an adult, I definitely knew Eddie appreciated the curves when he bit his bottom lip before putting his hands on my hips.

  He lifted me up as if I was as light as a feather, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, letting him carry me to the single bathroom.

  Eddie let me go slowly, my tennis shoes hitting the tile floor. The bathroom wasn’t the smallest in the world, but it wasn’t huge either. At least the guy who owned the house before us updated it a bit with a stand-up tile shower and a glass door.

  Before I could move to make sure I had clean towels and shampoo somewhere, Eddie’s lips were on mine, and his hands made quick work of the button and zipper of my jeans.

  His kisses were hot and longing, letting me taste the sweet heat of his tongue as he licked and nibbled my bottom lip. His hands roaming over every part of me as soon as I was free of my clothes, turned me into a puddle of goo.

  I was too turned on to even think about anything but the feel of Eddie’s lips on my body. It wasn’t until he whispered in my ear that I was knocked back to reality.

  “Let’s get cleaned up.”

  He pulled back slightly to turn on the water of the shower behind me. It sputtered before a steady stream sprayed.

  My pants were down to my ankles, and I was still in my tennis shoes, watching Eddie strip out of his boots then his jeans and finally those black boxers.

  I’d seen my fair share of naked men in all sizes and levels of hairiness, but seeing the sculpted body of Eddie Justice was enough to make me gulp and I had to hide my staring by quickly removing the rest of my clothes and shoes.

  He reached behind me, cupping my ass before his lips were back on mine. Our bodies tumbled backward under the warm water as my hands claimed every part of him I could touch.

  I stepped back, hitting my elbow on the shower wall. Damn tight spaces.

  I broke the kiss briefly only to inhale a large stream of water and almost choke on it. I pounded on my chest and bent over slightly. Trying not to look at Eddie, I didn’t want him to see how much of an idiot I looked like.

  “You okay?” he asked, putting his hand on my back.

  “Yeah. Maybe getting frisky in the shower is better in theory than actual practice. I’ll let you shower first, and then I’ll get in,” I said, putting my hand on the door.

  Eddie grabbed my arm and whirled me toward him. The water dripped down his face and over his kissable lips to his impeccable chest. “Why don’t you just sit down and let me wash you?”

  I was almost too dumbfounded to speak and let him gently push me toward the shower seat.

  He grabbed my body wash from the rack showerhead, poured some in his hand, and lathered it up. Slowly, he kneeled down, his hands massaging my arms then over my neck and each breast and nipple until they formed a soft peak and I moaned softly.

  He kept moving his hand lower, sweeping over my stomach and then to my thighs. Working his way down my thighs and then back up, he placed his hand on my mound and hooked a finger inside me. I thought he would stop there, bringing my glorious agony to its peak and getting me off with his long fingers. But then just as quickly as his hand was inside me, his tongue replaced it. If I thought Eddie was a master at playing guitar or using his hand, I was way wrong. That magic tongue of his could do way more than belt out a Grammy-winning song.

  I put one hand on the back of his head and the other on the glass wall of the shower. An orgasm took hold, and my entire body shook, the steady spraying stream of the water engulfing my scream. But the sound of the water didn’t mask the epic crash of the glass wall completely falling off the hinge and toppling sideways until it wedged between the window and the toilet seat across from the shower.

  “Holy shit,” Eddie said after moving his mouth away from between my thighs only to lean back and hit his head on the shower valve. Which, of course, decided his head was big enough to knock that off the wall, and a big rush of water spewed out the hole where the valve had been.

  Eddie scrambled to stand up and held his hand out, helping me out of the shower.

  I didn’t even know where the towels were and if I even needed to be concerned with getting dry when the entire bathroom would be flooded soon.

  “Want me to call my dad and see if he knows a plumber?” Eddie asked, yelling over the rushing water.

  “Yeah. You call him, and I’ll call Clay.”

  ***

 
; Some guy with the plumber’s union owed Eddie’s gramps a favor, so he came out to the house. After a few hours, he had the door and the shower knob fixed. That didn’t stop Clay from freaking out and ending his night passed out with a bottle of Jack in his lap.

  “Thanks for staying, Eddie. You didn’t have to do that,” I said as Eddie shut the front door when the plumber left.

  “It’s no problem, Brooke. No matter what you told your brother, it was half my fault.” Eddie grinned despite the circumstances.

  “Well, it looks like we might miss midnight. I’m wiped out and probably need to get up early to finish another book so I can pay the plumber and rent.” I mentally thought of how much the plumber charged hourly, plus holiday pay, and parts and labor. Basically, I’d have to write a shit-ton of books or start stripping to pay for it.

  Eddie took my hand. “Don’t worry about it, Brooke. I took care of it.”

  I pulled my hand away. “What do you mean you took care of it?”

  He sighed. “Look, I paid for the plumber. It was nothing.”

  “Uh, maybe to the guy who has his own private plane, but not to me. I promise I’ll pay you back every dime once I get the money.” I might have said the words, but internally, I was a little relieved.

  Eddie smiled, taking my hand again. “How about you just make it up to me with a slumber party. Been a while since we had one of those.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t have my tent or a fire pit.”

  He leaned in. “Your bed will be just fine.”

  I wanted to say that he whisked me to the bedroom and we made love all night long. But really, I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. The last thing I remembered was Eddie’s warm arm going around my waist and his soft breathing in my ear. The last ten years had been one hell of a ride, but I was hoping this year would be the end of it all. The year I finally got Eddie back for good.

  Chapter 13

  I thought after our first “slumber party,” Eddie would make it a permanent thing. I guess I could only get that lucky once.

  The next couple of days were a whirlwind of Eddie getting ready for his live show in Austin and me finishing The Billionaire Baker’s B*tch to publish before we left.

  Eddie showed up bright and early at the house the Friday before his show. I was expecting him to be in his pickup truck that he’d been driving around town; instead, he stood, leaning against the door of a black stretch limo.

  “We’re road tripping in a limo?” I asked, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I’d had the thing since high school and was suddenly wishing I had better luggage to carry around other than just the giant beaten suitcase I’d brought back from Austin

  Eddie smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes hidden behind aviator sunglasses. The ones I’m pretty sure cost more than I was paying Clay in rent. “We aren’t road tripping anywhere. My plane will be waiting for us in Rockwall.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I guess being a country music superstar has its perks.”

  Eddie opened the back door, and I slid over the luxurious seats of the limo. They were almost velvety instead of the hot leather I was used to in my old sedan.

  Eddie got in after me and shut the door. Nodding toward the front, he indicated for the driver to slide the window between the driver and us closed. Then the car took off.

  “Did you really think we were going to take my dad’s truck all the way to Austin? I’d get mobbed by a bunch of girls at the first gas station we stopped at, then probably followed by a bunch of moms in mini vans the whole way there.”

  “Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you there, Mr. Justice?” I asked, leaning against the back of the plush seat. It felt like butter against my legs and arms, and I wanted to sink into it. A girl could get used to this luxury.

  “If you want, you can ride in the trunk like we used to go to the drive-in in Ft. Worth,” Eddie said, finally whipping off his glasses.

  “You’d like that.”

  He grinned, leaning forward and putting his arm around my waist. He pulled me close so my back rested against his chest. “I know something else I’d like ...”

  “Don’t even think I’m going to give it up to you in the back of this limo like Mandy Douglas did on prom night,” I snapped, harsher than I’d intended.

  Eddie backed up, and I sat straight, turning toward him. “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “How long have you been holding that one in?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Does it matter?” I asked.

  “Of course, it does, Brooke,” Eddie said, taking my hand.

  I sighed. “Were you really that clueless that you didn’t know I liked you basically all through middle school and high school?”

  He smiled, shaking his head and letting a silent laugh out his nose. “I think I always knew and felt the same way. I just knew if we started something and it failed, I’d still have to see you every day on the bus, at school, and at family functions. That if we started something, we couldn’t go back to being best friends.”

  “So what’s stopping that now?” I dared to ask.

  Eddie took my hand, intertwining our fingers. “This time, I knew what it was like to lose you, and I never want to feel that again.”

  Now, it was time to be truthful with Eddie and my other big reason for going to Austin. I let out a deep breath before I spoke. “Eddie, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Oh, shit. It’s never good when a girl says that. What is it this time? Did you read something about me on TNC and now you can’t go through with this?” he asked, raking his fingers through his hair.

  I shook my head then cocked an eyebrow. “No, but is there something I should be concerned about on TNC?”

  He laughed. “I think the latest is that I’m trying for a comeback and was spotted with some local author in my small Texas town.”

  “I hope they spell my name right and don’t add an ie.”

  Eddie squeezed my hand. “Okay, sorry. What really did you want to talk about? Please don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me on the way to the airport.”

  “Not breaking up with you … but remember when I said that things ended with my ex in Austin … well, I never really talked things out with him or got the rest of my stuff from his apartment. I mean I would have gone with you anyway to hear you play at this concert, but I need to go see Drake.”

  Eddie was silent for a moment before swallowing hard and nodding. “Okay. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t know, have some support?”

  I smiled slightly. “Thank you for that, but I don’t think it would be a good idea to show up there with you, and possibly a horde of media reporters.”

  “Brooke, it doesn’t have to be reporters. It can just be us. Me supporting you like you’ve always done for me.”

  I stared at our intertwined hands. I’d always been Eddie’s biggest fan whether I knew it or not. I’d been to every one of his church and choir performances, and he sat in the front row when I was in the school plays. But over the last ten years, I’d had to grow without him. Now, if we were going to grow together again, I had to end it with Drake for good. Get all of my stuff and say goodbye. And the only way to move on from that was to do it alone. Do it so that I wouldn’t have any more baggage and could just be with Eddie.

  “Thanks, Eddie. I think I got this.”

  ***

  I’d never been to the small, private Rockwall airport. I didn’t know that with a chartered plane, you could drive right up onto the tarmac, or that once we got to the plane, I’d come face-to-face with a caricature of Eddie on the side of it.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, staring at a plane that was definitely bigger than I’d expected.

  Eddie put his arm around me, guiding me toward the stairs. “Come on. If you think she’s pretty on the outside, wait until you see her inside.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “You could have at least come up with an innuendo.”

  Walki
ng into the plane, I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t a large black and white room with a full bar, functioning fireplace, and two L-shaped white leather sofas. My and Clay’s entire living room and my bedroom could have fit in the thing. It was only going to be less than forty minutes to fly to Austin, but I was sure Eddie and I could do many things in forty minutes, especially if the bar was stocked and I was feeling flexible.

  “Eddie!” a booming male voice said.

  I whipped around to see a middle-aged balding man in a white polo and khakis standing in the doorway.

  “Stan! Didn’t think you’d make it in time,” Eddie said, shaking the guy’s hand.

  “Wouldn’t miss the Eddie Justice comeback tour,” the guy said with a hacking laugh that sounded like he had a two-pack-a-day habit.

  “I thought I heard your howl,” a haughty voice said before the woman who belonged to the voice appeared in the doorway.

  “Pam! It’s been too long!” Eddie said, hugging the tall, older brunette in the pants suit.

  When he let go of her, Eddie turned toward me. “Brooke, this is my agent, Stan, and my publicist, Pam. They’re the ones who set up this show.”

  “Yes, and we have a lot to go over before tomorrow,” Pam said, opening a leather folder and sitting at one of the black tables surrounded by white leather chairs.

  “Um, I guess I can go write or something while y’all work,” I said, heading toward the bar. If I was going to be stuck with people talking business, I was going to down the bottle of Cristal that was calling my name.

  Pam gave me a tight-lipped smile that didn’t meet her dark green eyes. “Brooke, you’re the one we need to talk to.”

  I stopped with my hand halfway to the bottle. “Me? I’m not the musician. Ask Eddie, I practically failed choir.”

  Eddie put his hand on my back, guiding me toward the seat across from Pam, and then he took the seat next to it. “Pam just wants to go over our itinerary. She likes to plan everything out like that.”