Dead End Road
Page 35
“So,” Abby prodded, drawing him back from contemplation of a disastrous past and the potential for an equally disastrous future, “who is she?”
He took her hand and leaned back on the bar, pulling her against him. How much longer did they have to stay at this reception, anyway? He took a breath and braced himself to say the words. “Afton Kimball-Sinclair.”
She leaned back slightly to look up into his eyes. “Sinclair? Like…”
Seth nodded. “Sinclair Ranch, Sinclair Oil, Sinclair Building at the UTA School of Business…”
“That seems…” She bit her lower lip, searching for a word. “Incongruous.”
Seth reached for the bottle he’d set on the bar earlier then grabbed the two nearest shot glasses and poured them full. “You don’t know the half of it. But like Marsh said, that’s a story for another day. Bet he never dreamed the subject would come up again so soon.”
Slade had been watching the whole scene unfold without comment, but now jumped in, something for which Seth was grateful. He needed to think about the implications, and debrief Marsh as soon as possible. He saw the pair slip back out the door into the vestibule and head toward the public area beyond.
“Hey,” Slade said, “me and Corey are up next. We’re gonna start out with “Home Again,” if you two wanna dance.” He punctuated the comment by taking the bourbon bottle, tipping his head back, and pouring a generous amount from the spout directly into his mouth, followed by a vaporous belch and an unapologetic grin. “It’s a slow one.”
Abby snorted in rueful amusement and the tension of the moment was broken.
Seth ran his hands down her back and over her bottom, pulling her to him and letting her feel how eager he was for the honeymoon portion of the evening to begin. “What do you say, darlin’? Want to dance with your husband?”
She pressed against him and nibbled his chin. “Why, yes, I believe I do.”
They didn’t dance as much as they sort of made out in the middle of the dancefloor, but nobody seemed to mind. Some people even applauded.
After their dance, Joey and Caroline returned.
“How were the slots?” Abby asked Caroline.
The usually-upbeat redhead grimaced. “Evil. Pure, money-sucking evil. Jackie gave up and went to bed.”
Seth chuckled. “No worries. You have a few days to make it back before we roll out of town after our gig.”
Caroline shook her head, and Joey patted her on the back in mock sympathy. “I can’t be trusted,” she said. “I’m giving Joey my ATM card.”
“He’ll just use it to buy more drum gear.” Seth could picture the delivery boxes sitting on Joey’s front porch already.
“Yeah, but at least I can sell that stuff on eBay when he’s not looking,” Caroline joked, while Joey looked affronted. “Now,” she continued, as a look passed between her and Abby, “there’s something we want to talk to you about, Seth.”
He wasn’t sure he was up for another surprise quite yet, but everyone looked pleased about whatever news they had, so he took the bottle Slade had abandoned. After wiping the spout in case it had Slade-slobber on it, he poured some shots then looked from face to face, waiting for someone to speak.
Caroline reached into her bag and took out a folded piece of paper, which she handed to Abby. Abby unfolded it and held it against her chest then turned to Seth. “Mr. Caldwell…”
“Yes, Mrs. Caldwell…?”
Abby smiled, despite having heard that new name used multiple times throughout the evening. “The day we met, I made you a promise. A lot has happened since then…”
Joey snorted. “Understatement.”
“Hush, you,” Abby said cheerfully. “Now, I don’t know if you’ve thought about it, or even if you’re still interested, but Joey and Caroline helped me, and this is yours if you want it.”
Seth reached out and took the paper she offered. Turning it in his hand to its proper orientation, he saw the picture at the top and burst into laughter. It was a pristine Taylor Cujo for sale on a music equipment site, with “Reserved” posted below it. “Darlin’, this is amazing, but you don’t owe me a thing. I think marrying me more than makes up for killing Cujo.”
Abby raised an eyebrow. “Yes, there is that. But you said there were only a hundred and twenty-four left in the world, so I figured we should find you one before someone ran over the rest of them.”
Seth pulled her close and delivered a barely-legal-in-public kiss. When he finally came up for air, Joey applauded sarcastically.
Seth gazed down at his beautiful bride, her dark hair a mass of curls interwoven with gardenias and baby’s breath and her green eyes brimming with love. “There might be several dozen Cujos out there, Abby Caldwell, but one thing’s for sure. There’s only one you.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek and tucked under her chin, keeping her eyes focused solidly on him. “You’re all mine, and you’re all I need.”
“Told you,” Joey said. “But I wouldn’t have missed this little scene for anything.”
Abby took back the printout of the guitar listing and, with a flourish, tore it in half and handed the pieces to Caroline.
“Besides,” Seth said, “I still have part of our Cujo on the plaque the guys gave me, and it lives on in The Ballad of Cujo. That’s the one that matters, the one that brought us together. Another one just wouldn’t be the same.”
Abby smiled. “I agree, but if you could’ve seen your face when you were scooping the shards off Buchanan Street, you’d see why I had to offer.”
“He almost cried on the bus,” Joey said, and received a slap on the chest from Caroline. “Ow! Stop the violence, woman!”
“That was a love tap, and you’re totally into that,” Caroline said with a grin.
This was fun, the banter with his family, but Seth had bigger plans. He gave Abby a squeeze. “Get your shoes, darlin’. I remember another promise, and this one I’m holding you to.”
Abby looked puzzled—and a bit apprehensive—as she ducked behind the bar to locate her abandoned footwear.
Seth tapped Joey on the shoulder and trotted to the stage, where he interrupted the band currently trading guitar solos and grabbed the microphone.
“Hey, everybody, thanks for being here tonight.” He paused to allow a round of cheers and raised glasses. “If any of you had bets on whether or not I’d ever tie the knot, now’s the time to pay up, because it’s a done deal.” Laughter sounded around the room. “Now, it’s time for me to call it a night. My beautiful bride promised to make our wedding night one for the record books, and as much fun as it is here with all of you, I think I need to go find out exactly what she has in mind. She’s a writer, so she’s pretty creative. Have a great night, stay as long as you want, but try not to break too much stuff or bleed on this fancy carpet. I might still be able to get my deposit back.”
With that, he tossed the mic back to the band, leaped off the stage, ran to Abby, and swept her into his arms. Congratulations and catcalls chased them as he carried her from the room.
Abby was laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “You sure know how to make an exit.”
Seth shifted his wife so he could elbow the elevator button. “You know what they say, darlin’. Always leave them wanting more.”
A sly smile curved Abby’s lips. “Big talk, husband. We’ll see if you’re still able to say that in the morning.”
“Bring it on, darlin’. Bring it on.”
They had three more days before they returned to the road with the band, and Seth planned to savor every minute.
“Make or Break”
(Seth & Abby’s Song)
Lyrics by Todd Macy
The blank page bleeds, the words won’t come
You’ve been left high and dry by your muse
Time to burn it all down and throw it away
Tell yourself you’ve got nothing to lose
Better stay true to your vision
Ignore how they tell you t
o roll
‘Cause if you don’t listen to your own voice
It’s the hook that will rip out your soul
Chorus:
Sometime life you’re gonna make or break
And which one is all up to you
But if you should find you can’t make it alone
Darlin’, I’ll always be there for you
You can’t be scared to go against the grain
To blaze a new path, destination unknown
Then you’ll find, when it’s all said and done
The only voice in your head is your own
Repeat Chorus
~The End~
Author’s Note
Some of you might remember this book, originally released in 2011, as Make or Break. That publication contract has since expired, and Seth and Abby’s story is now being kept alive by the great team at Limitless Publishing. A new title, a hot new cover, updated and revised content…and a brand new, never before seen epilogue will finally reveal how Seth and Abby’s lives progressed in the months following the events in the original story.
As if that weren’t enough fun, I also left you a little surprise! It turns out Marshall has a back story I didn’t know about, but suddenly he’s telling me all about it, and I let you in on the secret in Dead End Road. We’ll explore the implications together in book 2 in the Vindictive Things series, coming to you as soon as I can write it.
I hope you enjoy spending time with Seth and Abby! I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed them until I started working on this revision, and now that there will be a series, I’ll get to keep visiting them for a long time to come.
Lori Whitwam
May 21, 2017
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Acknowledgments
I can’t tell you how much it means to me to be part of the Limitless Publishing family. In three years, I have never experienced anything less than absolute professionalism. Thank you to Jennifer O’Neill, Jessica Gunhammer, Dixie Matthews, Lydia Harbaugh, and Afton Klode, as well as the rest of the team, especially my talented and dedicated editors and proofreaders.
I deeply appreciate the relationships I’ve formed with other authors, whether they be traditional or self-published, and particularly Amelia James and Marissa Farrar. Having you there to kick around ideas or simply listen to me whine helps get through those hectic, frustrating days.
If it weren’t for my husband Tom, I wouldn’t care enough about anything to write. He’s been my rock for 35 years, through great achievements and adventures and heart-stomping tragedies, and he never gives up on me, even when I’m ready to give up on myself. I love you, honey-bunny.
Between releasing my previous book and starting to get this one ready for re-release, I lost both my senior dogs within months of each other, our golden retriever Darwin and Great Pyrenees Brody. Anyone who knows me understands this is like losing two of my limbs or some semi-vital internal organs. But life goes on and now revolves around two puppies. Mozzie the golden retriever was born in August of 2016, and Oliver the standard poodle in October of 2016. They’re great buddies and fill my life with joy. They also get me up about two hours earlier than I used to get up pre-puppy, which means I tend to get a bit more done each day, so…thank you? Good thing they’re adorable!
Most of all, thank you, readers! Your taking time to buy and read my books is priceless to me, and I sincerely appreciate every purchase, review, email, or Facebook message. A book without a reader is just words on a page. Thank you for giving these stories the life they were intended to have.
About the Author
Lori spent her early years reading books in a tree in northern West Virginia. The 1980s and 90s found her and her husband moving around the Midwest, mainly because it was easier to move than clean the apartment. After seventeen frigid years in Minnesota, she fled to coastal North Carolina in 2013. She will never leave, and if you try to make her, she will hurt you.
She has worked in public libraries, written advertising copy for wastewater treatment equipment, and managed a holistic veterinary clinic. Her current day job, conducted from her World Headquarters and Petting Zoo (her couch) is as a full-time editor for indie authors and small publishing houses.
Her dogs are a big part of her life, and she has served or held offices in Golden Retriever and Great Pyrenees rescues, a humane society, a county kennel club, and her own chapter of Therapy Dogs International.
She has been a columnist and feature writer for auto racing and pet publications, and won the Dog Writers Association of America’s Maxwell Award for a series of humor essays.
Parents of a grown son, Lori and her husband were high school sweethearts, and he manages to love her in spite of herself. Some of his duties include making sure she always has fresh coffee and safe tires, trying to teach her to use coupons, and convincing the state police to spring her from house arrest in her hotel room in time for a very important concert. That last one only happened once—so far—but she still really, really appreciates it.
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