Hold Me

by Susan Mallery

  “I guess not. In a town like this, it makes sense that families are a big thing. Most people have a biological or social need to procreate.”

  He sat across from her and grinned. “Now you’re scaring me. A social need to procreate?”

  “I don’t know what else to call it. You’re expected to grow up, get married and have kids. Nearly everyone does.” She tilted her head. “Why haven’t you?”

  “Grown up?”

  She chuckled. “You know what I mean. Is it because there are too many women and why pick just one?” Her humor faded. “I’m asking this for real. Not just making conversation.”

  “Why aren’t I married?” He shrugged. “Lots of reasons. You’re right. I did play ‘the more, the better’ game for a while. They were offering, and I wasn’t going to say no. But after a while, that got old.”

  “So you switched to serial monogamy?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And it works for you?”

  “Mostly. I do think about wanting more. But I can’t figure out how to deal with the love part. Love is just a feeling. It doesn’t get the job done.” How could he trust love when so many horrendous things were done in the name of love? If you asked his dad, the old man would swear he loved Shelby. But he thought nothing of putting a fist through her face.

  Being in love didn’t protect anyone or mean everything was going to turn out okay. It was just words. Hard to get excited about that.

  She sighed. “Love. Everybody wants to be in love.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I’m not sure. Romantic love seems sketchy to me. People fall in and out of love all the time. I think it’s better when people truly commit to each be there for the long haul. When it’s not about hormones, but about real feelings. Like when normal parents love their kids. Or friendships that last sixty years. That’s what I want.”

  There was a mountain of information in those few sentences, he thought. The fact that she’d define a subset of parents as normal. Because hers weren’t?

  He agreed with her concerns about romantic love. He’d found that women wanted the words. Words he refused to say, because in the end, talk was cheap. Actions mattered.

  “Did you get your heart broken?” he asked gently, knowing plenty of other people simply believed the words and then were shocked when things didn’t turn out.

  “Not in the way you think. I saw what my parents went through. How much they claimed to love each other, only to have it explode in their faces. They would get back together and swear it was forever, then one of them would take off or cheat or both.”

  “Words without the actions to back them up.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “They were ruled by their hormones. It’s ridiculous.”

  “Hormones are powerful.”

  Her mouth twisted. “I think it’s an excuse. We can act rationally. We simply choose not to. It’s like sex. People claim to be swept away. Really? Are you saying you can’t control yourself, or you simply don’t want to? Oh, please. We all know what it is. If you want my opinion, sex is the root of all evil. If people stopped having sex, things would be better.”

  “For who?” he asked, incredulous.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I kind of don’t.”

  She raised her shoulders then lowered them. Her gaze was steady, as if she’d thought this all through and had all the answers.

  “Like I said, I saw what my parents did. I watched other people in the band, both men and women, act like idiots because of sex and supposed love. I think there’s a better way.”

  He was almost afraid to ask. “Which is?”

  “A sensible plan. Finding someone who gets that it’s all a game and refuses to play. We’ll get married and care deeply about each other without all the drama. Just two committed people who want the same kind of emotionally stable life together.”

  Like that was going to happen, Kipling thought, not sure if he should laugh or bolt. “Will there be sex in this sensible marriage?”

  “For the purposes of procreation. There’s really no need to do it otherwise.”

  He stared at her. “If you believe that, then you’ve been doing it wrong.”

  She waved her hand. “Blah, blah, it’s transformative. I know. There’s no feeling like it.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “I’m not. I think my way is better.”

  “The sensible marriage without sex between two like-minded people. For the greater good.”

  She brightened. “Exactly.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  She looked away. “I knew you wouldn’t be interested.”

  He swore silently. “You considered me as a candidate?”

  “I wasn’t sure. You seemed to have a lot of really good qualities. But I figured the sex thing would be an issue.”

  He had no idea what to make of what she’d told him. Or what to think. He supposed there was a compliment buried in there somewhere. “You’re completely not interested in sex?” Because when they’d been kissing, he’d felt a lot of interest coming from her side of things.

  She studied her boots. “I think that staying in control is important and ultimately healthier. I refuse to give in to my base emotions. Hormones are not stronger than my will.”

  He turned that information over in his mind until everything got clear. Okay, now he got it. Some dork, or maybe a couple of dorks, had done the deed and moved on without taking her over the edge. If she’d never had an orgasm, she’d been left hanging without knowing what she was missing. He was a little surprised she hadn’t taken care of business herself, but with all her rules about sensible relationships and defying her urges, maybe it was to be expected. He might not trust emotion, but he totally trusted a good plan.

  It was, he realized, a problem that needed fixing.

  “There are a few flaws in your master strategy,” he told her.

  “I know, and I’m still working out the details.”

  “Like finding a willing partner.”

  She smiled. “Yes, that is one of the bigger details.”

  “And the sex thing.”

  She groaned. “What is it about men and sex?”

  “We like it.”

  “So I’ve heard. Over and over again.” She stared at him then narrowed her gaze. “You’re not going to change my mind on any of this. I don’t want you to try.”

  “Me? Try to change you? Why would you suggest that?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me. I don’t need to be fixed or healed or anything.”

  “Uh-huh. What I find interesting is how you think you know what you’re talking about, and you don’t. I can’t wait to see you fall on your ass.”

  She looked away. “If you had your way, I wouldn’t be falling on my ass, now would I?”

  Kipling laughed. “And the first point goes to Ms. Mills.”

  She stood and walked to her computer. “I’ll get enough points to win. Just you wait and see.”

  He knew she was wrong, but it was going to be fun letting her find that out for herself. Because he’d gone from a man who was interested to a man on a mission.

  For a second he considered the fact that they were kind of on the same side of the love issue. They’d both seen people who claimed to love each other do awful things, and had decided not to trust the feelings. They both wanted a rational response to a potential intangible. With one big exception. He was a firm believer in the power of passion, while she was convinced passion was the problem. She was wrong about that. Which meant he was going to be the one to show her exactly what it was she’d been missing.

  * * *

  DESTINY HURRIED TOWARD Ambrosia Bakery. She’d planned on making a pie for dessert, but hadn’t been able to leave work on time. And while it was true that neither she nor Starr needed pie in their life, she’d thought it would be nice to have. She would’ve had time to make one herself if she hadn’t stayed so long talking to Ki
pling. Which explained her visit to the bakery. This was guilt pie.

  He was fun to talk to. Fun to hang out with. Fun to kiss. Just as interesting, she’d told him about what she wanted from life, and he hadn’t said no. He hadn’t been thrilled, but he’d seen the conversation through. Which made her wonder if he would consider what she was interested in. Because the more time she spent with Kipling, the more she wanted to spend time with him.

  That had to be a sign or something. While it was too soon to know enough about his character or her feelings, for the first time she felt a sense of...maybe. Just maybe she could find what she was looking for. A good man who wanted a family and wasn’t going to get all weird about the sex thing.

  Because he’d already had a bunch. He’d admitted it to her. So maybe that could be enough. It wasn’t like anyone needed to keep doing it.

  She paused just outside the bakery as a little music video played in her head. The song was one she’d written, and the images were all of her and Kipling. Talking together, walking through the woods, holding hands. At the end, she imagined them kissing. Because that had been really nice. Maybe she wasn’t interested in doing the deed, but she wouldn’t mind daily kissing. And hugging. A married couple should hug. It established connection.

  She shook off the daydream and stepped into the bakery. Shelby smiled.

  “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you so late in the day. You’re one of my morning customers.”

  “I was hoping you had a pie I could take home for Starr.” Destiny walked to the counter. “You’re working late. Don’t you get in at four in the morning?”

  Shelby laughed. “Yeah, it’s been a long day. Amber had a bunch of appointments so I said I’d work a double shift. She’s hired more part-time help for the summer, but they haven’t started yet.” She covered a yawn. “I’ll be in bed early tonight.”

  “You’d have to be.”

  “Until then, pie. So cold or hot? We have a few cream pies left, or double-crusted fruit pies.”

  “Cream pie,” Destiny said, thinking she would have made a fruit pie, so a cream pie would be a nice change.

  Shelby pointed out various options, and Destiny went with the double chocolate mousse pie that included a layer of both light and dark chocolate along with plenty of whipped cream.

  Shelby rang up the purchase. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but I have to tell you, you have an amazing voice.”

  Destiny did her best to keep smiling. She’d brought the attention on herself, and now she had to deal with it.

  “Thanks.”

  “You really don’t like singing in public?”

  “No.”

  “But you looked so comfortable. Totally at ease. I figured you’d sound amazing, but I had no idea what you could do.” She handed Destiny change and then placed the pie box in a bag and passed it across the counter. “You and Miles must have known each other awhile.”

  “We’ve been working together a couple of years.” Destiny shifted the bag to her other hand. “My mom visits me a few times a year, and she happened to come while I was working with Miles. He was completely smitten with her, as most men are.”

  Shelby pressed her lips together. “You and Miles aren’t involved, are you?”

  “No. We’re friends. He’s not...” Destiny remembered her encounter with Miles and Kipling a couple of weeks ago. “Are you seeing him?”

  “We’ve been out a couple of times.” Shelby sounded both pleased and defensive. “He’s nice.”

  “He’s also seeing other women. Miles isn’t into relationships. He likes the ladies. A lot.” Because not everyone was interested in her sensible plan, she thought. They wanted to feel the rush and have sex, and then they got their hearts broken. Something she knew would never happen to her. Because she was thinking with her head and not her hormones.

  “You think he’s dating someone in town?”

  “I know he went out with Madeline a few days ago. Drinks, I think.”

  Shelby’s happy expression faded. “Oh, I didn’t know that. She’s so fun and pretty.”

  “You’re both adorable,” Destiny said firmly. “And neither of you is the problem. Look, I like Miles. He’s not a bad person. But when it comes to women, he’s also not going to give you more than a quick good time. So if that’s what you want, go for it. If you’re looking for more, he’s not the one.”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Destiny waved and left. As she walked home, she wondered if Shelby would listen. Or if she would think she could change Miles. That somehow with her, things would be different.

  Destiny had seen that happen again and again. With her father, especially. Women knew his track record, but they always thought that things would be different with them, that he would change. And he never did.

  She, on the other hand, saw things clearly. Rationally. She might be missing a few highs, but if the price of that was avoiding the lows, then she was all-in.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I DON’T KNOW,” Starr said as they left the bleachers by the lake. “They were good and all...”

  Destiny linked arms with her sister. “Oh, I so understand what you’re trying not to say. It was a great performance, but just a little strange.”

  Starr laughed. “Right. Because they’re, like, you know, old.”

  Destiny would guess that to a fifteen-year-old, a group of women over the age of sixty would be more ancient than just old.

  X-treme Waterski Fest had started the previous day and would continue through tomorrow. There were various demonstrations, competitions and even a place on the lake where you could take lessons. She and Starr had just watched the famous Don’t-Call-Me-Grannies, a group of synchronized skiing women all over sixty.

  “They were in great shape,” Destiny said. “We should be so lucky to look that good at their age.”

  “I guess.”

  Destiny grinned. “Can’t imagine ever being that old?”

  “Not really. But I suppose it will happen.”

  “The alternative isn’t a pleasant one,” Destiny told her.

  Starr grinned. “You’re right. It’s going to be weird not to look forward to birthdays. Now I want to be sixteen so I can get my driver’s license.”

  “I suppose part of the reason people don’t look forward to birthdays as they get older is that there aren’t as many milestones.”

  “You’re not excited about being twenty-eight and a half?” Starr asked with a laugh.

  “Not as much as you’d think.”

  They walked into the main part of town. There were booths set up everywhere. Crafts, food and demonstration booths had their own sections. The flow really worked, Destiny thought. Whoever planned all this had done a good job of managing the crowds.

  “I should invite my mom to visit during a festival,” she said.

  “Lacey is coming here?” Starr sounded both excited and nervous. “This summer?”

  “She usually visits me at my various assignments. She says those trips help her stay connected to her fans, because they keep her real.”

  Starr nodded. “That makes sense. She’s not on a bus or a plane. She’s just living with normal people.”

  Destiny smiled. “You know it’s all a crock, right? My mom will never be like her fans. She’s Lacey Mills, superstar.”

  “What about when it’s just you? Isn’t she like a regular mom?”

  “She is,” Destiny admitted, realizing she’d never thought about her time with her mom that way. “When she’s out on her own, she always has an entourage. She gets dressed up and waits to be mobbed by her fans. They generally don’t disappoint her. But when she visits me, it’s just her. And while she’ll never be confused with your average suburban mom, when she’s with me, she tones it down.”

  “Only one bodyguard?”

  “Yes, and he keeps his distance.”

  “Can I meet her?” Starr asked.

&
nbsp; “Of course.” Destiny started to say she was surprised Starr hadn’t yet, only to remember the teen and Lacey had no biological connection. “She’s great. You’ll like her. She loves to talk music, so have your questions ready.”

  Starr looked at her. “OMG. Really? You mean that?”

  “Absolutely. She’ll stay up all night talking about music and the business. And she has energy to spare, so she’ll be awake way longer than you.”

  Starr clutched her arm. “I have to start practicing more. I have to get better before she comes here. What if she asks me to play? I can’t embarrass myself.”

  “Deep breath. You won’t. Lacey doesn’t judge. And to be honest, she prefers to be the best musician in the room.”

  “But Dad plays.”

  Destiny sighed. “I know. It was a source of friction between them. They would have friends over and both play and then ask them to say who was better. That rarely ended well.” She pointed. “Let’s get elephant ears.”

  “Sure.”

  They headed to the booth and waited in line.

  “It must have been so great, having all that music in the house,” Starr said. “Being able to listen to them and their music friends play.”

  “I learned a lot,” Destiny admitted. “But it wasn’t one giant jam session. They traveled all the time. I’d go on tour sometimes, but often I was left behind. I missed school a lot. It was hard to make friends because I was gone and then back and then gone again.”

  She wondered if that was where it had started—her not having friends. Back when she’d been younger than Starr. She remembered having a best friend when she was seven or eight—Mandy, a girl from down the street. Only something had happened, something with her parents. She’d never been sure if Jimmy Don had come on to Mandy’s mom or if Lacey had flirted with the husband. Either way, there had been a big fight, and she and Mandy had never been allowed to play together again.

  There had been a couple more incidents like that, and then she’d simply stopped trying. It was too hard to get close, to confide in someone, to believe they would always be there, and then have it ripped away.

  After she’d gone to live with Grandma Nell, there hadn’t been any girls her age close by. By the time she’d gotten to college, she’d forgotten the art of making friends. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she was hanging out with other women and enjoying their company. She would miss them all when she left.