“We were never friends.” She closed her eyes. “The chemistry was crazy. Teenage hormones. Don’t live in the past. We sang one song. Consider that us burying the hatchet. I forgive you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to trust you.”
“But I want you to.” He moved in until there only an inch between them.
“Trust like that has to be earned. I’m not going to be here long enough.” She stepped back and spun on her heel.
In a flash, she was with her band again. Safe and comfortable. He saw the tension leave her body as she sat with them and sipped her water.
He fought the urge to punch a wall or take a drink. Self-control, he had it. He knew it. He had to prove it to her. He wanted to be where she felt safe and ran to.
Then again, maybe she was better off without him. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt her again. It felt like she’d forgiven him, but given her history with addicts letting her down, would she ever really trust him again?
Chapter Three
It was amazing what country boys could do in a day. Jenna walked the stage after the sound check. The kids were putting out chairs and most of the men were taking a break.
The stage felt good. She still loved the music, but the last six months had been hard. The closer she got to thirty, the less living on the road felt like home.
“You okay?” Tamara asked.
Jenna nodded. “Do you ever get sick of the road?”
“I got sick of it a couple years back. But then, I get on stage, and I don’t want to give that up. We can cut another album. That sort of puts us in one spot for a while,” she suggested.
“It’s all temporary,” Jenna replied.
Tamara frowned. “Isn’t that what you like? Oh, you’ve got a case of homesickness being here. Don’t do anything radical.”
Shaking her head, Jenna looked at her friend. “It’s been nagging at me for months. I want to perform but year round is too much. Am I the only one who wants to get off the road?”
“I don’t want to stop performing. No one does. Look, music is a hard business. We all know that. Your dream got us this far. We make a good living making music. No one wants to ruin that for anyone else.” Tamara shrugged.
“Foster kids don’t get their dreams.” Jenna shook her head.
“But you were crazy enough to go after yours. We hung on for the ride. None of us thought it’d be going this long. What else can we do? Join another band?” she asked.
“I know. I don’t know what to do. Coming back here was a mistake.” Jenna headed backstage, which meant off the simple scaffolding.
Tamara followed. “Are you okay?”
Behind the stage, Jenna turned. “It’s weird with Sam. Weird to be here. I don’t want to leave. All the bad memories and history, but I don’t have another home. I want my own house. I to be able to close the doors and be alone. We’re never alone.”
“Everyone lives with it. We can go stay at Steve’s for a while. It’s been too long since we had a few weeks off,” Tamara said.
“I don’t need a vacation. Maybe it’s just Sam? Mrs. M? They all seem so grown up, and we’re still trying to make it as a band.”
Tamara shook her head. “Newsflash, we have made it. We record and perform. We’re not Beyoncé. That’s okay. We’re not on welfare or in jail.”
Jenna laughed. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe I just want to feel normal. Not like the foster kid band. A house is normal. But it’s such a big investment.”
“It is. Sam owns a restaurant. That blew my mind,” Tamara said.
“Yeah and he has a home, too. Maybe I’m just being competitive or envious. Life on the road has its costs and perks.” Jenna frowned.
Tamara rolled her eyes. “Now you’re talking yourself out of stuff. Forget Sam. Forget the past. What do you want? You want a house here? To show everyone you made it? Build one. We can still do shows. Cut back on touring to the summer fests and have time for us to get lives. Why not have a meeting with the whole band?”
“You’re right. We should all talk about it. After dinner in our room. It’s just so serious and permanent.” Jenna took comfort in the ability to pick and move on a moment’s notice.
Putting down roots sounded crazy.
“The only way to know if it works for you is to try it. After dinner in our room. I’ll let them know.” Tamara headed off, texting on her phone.
Jenna looked out on the open field and caught a glimpse of Sam heading her way. He was holding his hand funny. Part of her wanted to walk away. To pick anywhere else to build a house and make a life.
But the closer he got, the clearer it became. He had blood on his shirt and was putting pressure on his thumb.
She couldn’t stop herself. She rushed over. “What happened to you?”
“Staple gun misfired, and I was trying to clear it. I jabbed my thumb on a staple. It looks worse than it is.”
“It’s bleeding like crazy.” She put more pressure on it. “We need a first aid kit.”
“Relax. It’ll stop bleeding. I’ve done worse,” he said.
She sighed at him. “You might need stitches or a Tetanus shot.”
“I’ve had a Tetanus shot, and it’s not big enough for a stitch. Once it stops bleeding, I’ll wash it out and put a bandage on it. So, I guess you’re not mad at me.”
“Mad?” She glared at him. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt over a performance.”
He laughed. “You’re taking all the blame for this, too? You should at least blame me for being clumsy.”
“Blame?” she asked.
“Anything that ever went wrong with the band or on stage, you took the blame. You were the leader.”
“And you wanted to lead?” She resisted the urge to point out he drank too much and wanted to goof off.
“No. I wasn’t mature enough to handle it. We’d have failed as a group if it weren’t for you. We were teenagers.” He shrugged. “I take responsibility for what I did. You take more than your share.”
“Guess it’s a habit I’m not going to shake. If I haven’t by now, I won’t. I’m not interested in rehashing history.” Jenna didn’t want to talk about her childhood anymore. The past was over, but the feelings were far from gone. If she dared to start over with him, her feelings would take over.
He slid his hands over hers. The familiar touch made her ache for their past.
“It’s okay; you can let go. All we have is history.” He nudged her hands away.
The puncture spot on his skin still bled but much slower. She didn’t want to let go. But they’d been apart for so many years. Jenna didn’t want to leave him.
“I can’t believe you’re not married. I mean, small town. Not a lot of good-looking men here,” she said.
“My brothers are all married. I guess I’m not one to settle.” He kissed her cheek.
The shock hit her in a split second, but instead of freezing or pulling away, she turned her head. She shut her mind off and stopped fighting what she’d wanted to do.
He let her lead but returned the kiss. For a few blissful moments, they were timeless. Eighteen or twenty-eight, none of it mattered. No one else made her feel like this man did.
When she pulled away, she knew she needed to go forward. Wherever that was and she needed to talk to her band. Make some phone calls and see what her options were.
“I have to go. I have a phone meeting I forgot about,” she said.
“Sure.” He smiled.
“Don’t get smug,” she scolded.
“That was a pity kiss?” he asked as she walked away.
She looked at her hands where she’d pressed on his wound. His blood stained her fingers. Denying her feelings was like saying she didn’t need to wash her hands. Everyone would know. Jenna had never been good at hiding her feelings when confronted.
* * * *
Sam hoped but tried to keep his hopes from getting too high as he drove to the motel.
Friends told him that the band had ordered pizza and had some sort of meeting.
This was an impulsive and stupid move. If she trampled his heart again... Sam clutched the chip in his pocket. He’d been sober for years, but she was the only thing that could shake him.
Tomorrow was the concert, and she could leave the day after. For all he knew, that was the plan. He had to have a little more time alone.
Parking his car, he stared at the window he knew was hers. Small towns had no secrets. A friend had told him which was hers. He exited the SUV and tapped on the window. Jenna had to sleep by the window.
Seconds later, the window opened and a sleep-tousled Jenna frowned at him.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “Thought you might want to go grab a milkshake.”
“Now?” She combed her fingers through her hair.
“You’re sort of busy tomorrow. Oh, my mom wanted me to invite you to dinner between your shows. Good real food, not junk. I forgot to ask you earlier.” He smiled.
“Hang on.” She disappeared into the room.
A few minutes later, she slid the window open and she slid out feet first. She looked great, clad in her jeans and a sweater. He wanted to hold her and never let go.
“You could’ve come out the front door,” he said.
She walked to his SUV and got into the passenger seat. “How’s your thumb?”
He slid behind the wheel and held up the digit with only a Band-Aid. “Fine. I’m tough.”
“And your mom really wants me over for dinner? Me?” she asked.
“Why not you?” He started the SUV and headed for the main strip in the small town.
“I don’t know. You could be a famous rock star. Who knows what our band could’ve been if we hadn’t kicked you out? She probably resents me.” Jenna leaned on the window.
“No, she doesn’t. I got kicked out because I couldn’t handle it. That’s no one else’s fault.” He reached over and took her hand.
She didn’t pull away but played with the bandage. “Don’t you wonder sometimes... if we’d made it together?”
“Sometimes. We were special together, but life on the road... I’m not strong enough or that. Sorry I let you down.” He squeezed her fingers.
“I didn’t want an apology. I don’t feel normal. I never will.”
“Not while you’re living out of a bus. Maybe you’re tired of it? Want to be normal?” he asked.
“I don’t know if I can. I can perform and live on the road. I don’t know about anything else.”
“You were normal at Holland House.” He pulled into the parking lot of the late-night fast-food place in town.
“No, we had structure there. Mrs. M’s house and her rules. If I had my own house... I don’t know if I could handle it. But the road is getting old.” She sighed.
“You could stay here. I’ve got a spare room in my house. Plus, the basement if some of the others want to stay.” He had to offer.
Her fingers tensed. “Thanks. I can buy something on my own. I just don’t know if I should be here. But I guess I’ll come to dinner tomorrow.”
He grinned. “Thanks. The family will be thrilled.”
“The family? Like everyone?” she asked.
“Why not?” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “Strawberry?”
“Still my favorite flavor,” she said.
He pulled through the drive thru and ordered a large strawberry shake and a large chocolate one.
“Large?” she whispered.
“You need a treat. You look skinny,” he said.
“Nice try.” She rolled her eyes.
He paid for the drinks and handed her the strawberry.
“They’re huge!” she protested.
“Consider it a challenge.” He sipped his chocolate. “So is everyone in the band ready to settle down?”
She shrugged. “Seems that they are. They were waiting for me. I hope they aren’t lying.”
“You’d know if they were. On the road all the time is hard. Even with Steve’s house, it’s not the same. A routine and private life is different.” He watched her enjoy the treat.
“I don’t have to move here, but where else would I go?” she asked.
“You’re worried about me? I can stay away,” he said.
She shook her head.
“Your mom,” he said.
She tensed and took a long drink.
“You don’t owe her anything. You can get a restraining order.” He shook his cup so the shake would melt a bit faster.
“I’d see her eventually. In a store or on the street.” She played with the straw.
He took a long drink. “You can avoid her most of the time. Mrs. M is here. You have friends here. We can get word to your mother to stay away or else.”
“Switch.” She handed him her shake and took his.
“I missed you so much.” He sipped on her strawberry shake.
She savored the chocolate then sat back. “You miss being a teenager. Now we’re boring adults.”
“I like you as an adult. You’re calmer,” he said.
Sighing, she enjoyed her sugar fix. “You’re way more mature.”
“But we’re still us.”
She nodded. “If I stay, it’s not for you. I won’t turn into some homemaker type and give up my career to work at your restaurant and then keep house.”
He frowned. “When did I suggest any of that?”
“You didn’t; I’m just saying. I’ve seen so many women on the music circuit get married and give up their career to have kids. If I give up the road, it’s not giving up music.”
“Never, you’d go insane if you didn’t sing and write songs,” he said.
“And I won’t just sing at your restaurant,” she said.
“I’d trust you to go on tours, as long as you come home.”
“See, you assume I’m living with you.” She poked him hard in the shoulder.
“We can start wherever or however you want. But if you think this isn’t a date, you’re crazy.” He grinned at her.
She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. Cold lips and sugary tongues tangled. He pulled her closer and wondered how much like their teen dates this would get.
Then, she put her milkshake cup firmly between his legs.
“Damn it, Jen!” He removed the cold cup.
“Cocky as ever.” She folded her arms.
He put the shakes in the cup holders in the center console. “Look, if I’m not the guy you want, fine. I’ll live. I might fall off the wagon but that’s my problem.”
“Right. No one will blame me.” She glared at him.
“I want you to be happy. There weren’t any men in your life you could trust except the band, and I hurt you. If you can’t give me another chance, give some good guy a shot,” he said.
She grabbed the strawberry shake and sipped. “Can you take me back? I need to get a good night’s sleep before the concert tomorrow.”
“Sure. I didn’t mean to push.” He moved too far too fast. He’d wasted so much time, but he couldn’t rush her.
Chapter Four
Doing her hair and makeup for the show, Jenna couldn’t believe she’d overreacted last night. She wanted to give in and be back with Sam, but he’d always be an addict. That wasn’t new to her, but one in recovery was hard to trust. She still loved him. Damn it!
Mrs. M slipped into the tent used for prep behind the stage with a vase full of roses.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Jenna said.
“I didn’t.” She set the flowers down. “Read the card.”
“Did you read it?” Jenna asked.
She grinned. “No, but I know who they are from.”
“I smell a conspiracy.” I opened the card.
I love you always... I want you to be happy even if I’m not Mr. Right... find him
Love, Sam<
br />
“He’s a catch,” Mrs. M said.
“She caught him once already,” Tamara said.
“People change,” Jenna added.
Her cell phone rang, and it was her manager. “I have to take this.”
“Ten minutes to show time,” Tamara said.
“Thanks.” She stepped out of the tent for privacy. “What’s the word, Teddy?”
“There is a huge track of land for sale to the west of Holland House. Pretty cheap, too,” he said.
“Cheap? That’s prime farm land.” It didn’t make sense.
“Well, a realtor mentioned it’s close to that house. Not everyone wants to be close to a group home run by the state. I know you know the lady. We could make a lowball offer and see if they take it,” he suggested.
“Sure. Why not? Will they split it? I was only thinking six acres.” Jenna didn’t need a massive estate.
“I think so. Let me crunch the numbers and lowball them. I’ll call you back after the first show.”
“Okay, thanks, Teddy. Bye.” Jenna disconnected.
Tamara poked her head out of the tent. “Teddy buying you something?”
“I’m buying it. I think. You didn’t think I was going to move in with Sam, did you? I can’t move that fast.”
Tamara grinned. “Glad you’re being smart. Now, let’s get on stage.”
“One last thing.” She ducked into the tent and smelled her flowers. Dinner with his family scared her more than buying land or a large crowd. If she made it through that, it might all work out.
* * * *
Sam arrived at the concert, and there were special tickets waiting for him. Seats reserved. His mother and sister were coming to the later concert, as they had to make dinner.
It should be a fun day, but it felt so important that he could barely sit down. His brothers were with him. It wasn’t a dream. Jenna and her band took the stage, and Sam was enthralled.
After six songs, she took a break and drank some water.
“I want to thank everyone for coming. Especially Mrs. M who does so much good for this town and the kids who need her. I wouldn’t be here without her.”
Romancing the Sweet Side Page 14
