Two weeks ago Destiny would have dismissed the question or at least tried to change the subject. Now she knew that the best way to connect with her sister was through honest, caring conversation. Not that she was an expert, but two sessions of family therapy had already taught her a lot.
“Living on the road isn’t anything I would enjoy,” she began. “You don’t get to see much of the places where you play. You perform, drive all night, then set up the next day. If you’re lucky, you have a few hours to walk around town.”
“How did you go to school?”
“If I was on the road with my parents, I didn’t. Or they brought along a tutor. Sometimes they left me at home, and then I went to regular classes.”
Starr picked out a few notes on her guitar. “But you never belonged, right? Living like that, it would have been hard to make friends.”
“It was.”
“Do you think that’s why you move around now? Because you don’t know how to be in one place?”
An unexpected and insightful question, Destiny thought. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe I’ve been reliving what I know.”
Starr glanced at her then looked away. “Do you get lonely?”
“Sometimes. When I do, I play music or write a song. It’s different here,” she admitted. “I have friends in a way I never have before. People let you in.”
“I know, right?” Starr smiled. “Like at camp. I’m just one of the group. It’s nice to belong.”
“It is. We’re going to have to figure out where we’re going to live. I have my place in Austin, but it’s a rental and too small for us. I haven’t really had a home base in a long time. I meant what I said. I’ve given notice with my company. We’ll get a house or something.”
Starr stared at her. “You’re really quitting?”
“Of course. You need to be settled. High school is a really important time.”
“You didn’t go to high school.”
“I know, and sometimes I think it would have been good for me. A rite of passage, so to speak.” She shrugged. “We don’t have to decide right away. You can think about it.”
“What if I want to stay here? In Fool’s Gold.” Starr bit her lower lip then spoke in a rush. “We both have friends here, right? And the schools are really good. We like the town, and you’re dating Kipling, so that could work out.”
Her tone was hopeful, her eyes huge. Destiny drew in a breath. Stay. She’d never stayed anywhere before and even after realizing she would need to have a permanent home for Starr, it had all been more theoretical than reality.
There were pluses to staying, she thought. As Starr had pointed out, they had friends. A community. She liked what she knew about the town. It was big enough to have things to do but not so large that they couldn’t belong. They could find a cute house—maybe one of the older ones in an established neighborhood. Fix it up together. Not that she knew anything about remodeling, but they could learn together.
As for Kipling, they weren’t dating. They were friends. And they’d had sex. And she was having dinner at his house. But that wasn’t dating, was it? Because he was not part of her sensible plan. There was no way Kipling was interested in a sexless marriage and to be honest, around him, she didn’t want one, either. So how could they have a meeting of the minds with all those hormones getting in the way? Not that he was asking or anything. They were friends. It wasn’t love or anything close to love.
“Destiny?”
“Sorry.” She shook her head in an attempt to clear her head. “Fool’s Gold works,” she told her sister. “I’m happy to stay if that’s what you want.”
“Really?” Starr put down her guitar and threw herself at Destiny. They hugged, then Starr bounced back to her cushion and grinned. “That is so cool. Because I’ve been thinking I want to start a band.”
“What?”
“A girl band. Guys make everything complicated. We’ll play music and write songs, and it’s gonna be great.”
Destiny fought the beginnings of a headache. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted.
Starr laughed. “You’ll get used to the idea. In the meantime, I need to start writing songs, and I don’t know how. How do you do it?”
Destiny was still caught up in the girl band comment, and it was hard to switch gears. She decided that her concerns, aka terrors, about Starr being in a band were probably best left for a family therapy session and instead told her sister, “Wait right here.”
She walked to her bedroom and collected her battered notebook from her nightstand, then returned to the living room.
“This is how I do it,” she told her sister as she sat next to her. “I’m old-school. If you want to try working on the keyboard directly, there are a lot of programs that can help you with that. I write the lyrics first, then find the melody. Sometimes they come together, but not often.”
She flipped through the pages until she found her favorite song in progress.
“This is what I’m working on. It’s close, but not right yet.”
Starr leaned over Destiny’s shoulder. “‘We can’t even trust, and we don’t know how to live,’” she read, then picked up her guitar and played a couple of chords. “What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know.” Destiny strummed with her then flipped the page. “Here’s the melody I’ve been playing with. Can you read the music?”
Starr looked at the notes then played them on her guitar. Destiny closed her eyes and listened. After a couple of seconds she realized what was missing.
“How about this?” she asked, changing one of the chords and flipping back to the lyrics. “From across the room, the distance is clear. I see you through the heartbreak, you see me through the fear.”
Starr nodded and joined in. “The time we spend together, the life that we could find. You could be my best regret, I could be your peace of mind.”
Her sister stopped. “Did you mean this as a romantic ballad? Because, in a way, it’s sort of about us.”
Destiny glanced at the page. “I didn’t see that before, but you’re right.”
Starr flushed, then glanced down at the page. “What if you change the end to this?”
Two hours later, they’d finished the song. Destiny ordered a pizza, then sat next to Starr while they waited for the delivery. She had her tablet set up with the external microphone for them to record their final version. When they were done, Destiny laughed.
“We have a hit.”
“You think? I didn’t help much. It’s your song.”
“It’s our song,” Destiny corrected. “You’re good at collaborating. We should do this again.”
“I’d like that.”
* * *
KIPLING TOOK THE STEAKS out of the fridge and set them on the counter. Destiny was due over any minute, and he wanted to give the steaks an hour or so to warm up before he put them on the grill.
He had the fixings for salad. She’d told him she would bring a potato dish, along with dessert.
He still wasn’t sure how the evening was going to go. While seduction was on his mind, he’d made a promise not to remove any clothing. He grinned as he walked toward the living room. Not that keeping her dressed would get in the way of seducing her. Despite his embarrassing first performance with her, he had skills.
But tonight was about more than that. Because the truth was, he liked being with her. Just talking. Or laughing. She was interesting and funny, and when he was around her, the world was a better place.
The doorbell chimed right on time. He opened the front door to find Destiny holding two glass dishes, both covered. One was a bowl and the other rectangular. Although he was a lot more interested in the woman carrying them than any contents.
“Hi,” she said, her smile just a little tentative.
“Come on in.”
He stepped back to let her enter, then took the large bowl from her. “What did you bring?”
“Roasted Potato Salad and S�
��mores Bars. Did you know there’s a Fool’s Gold Cookbook? I found it at Morgan’s Books the other day, and I’ve already made a couple of recipes. They’re really good.”
She was nervous. He sensed it in the speed of her words and the way she kept looking at him then glancing away. He liked that she was a little off guard. It evened things up. Because looking at her left him damned close to speechless.
She’d traded in her usual jeans or cargo pants and T-shirt for a strappy summer dress. It was fitted to the waist then flared out to just above her knees. The pale green color was pretty against her skin.
Her hair was loose and wavy, and she’d put on a little makeup for the evening. All good signs in his book. While the “d” word had never been used, Destiny was acting like this was a date.
They walked into the kitchen. She put down her dish. He slid the potato salad into the refrigerator then turned to face her. She’d set her dessert on the counter.
He moved close, took her hands in his, then leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Thank you.”
“Tonight is going to be fun.”
“I hope so.”
He flashed her a smile. “Trust me.”
She met his gaze. “I do. I trust you, Kipling.”
He’d been with a lot of women over the years. When he’d been young, he’d taken advantage of all the invitations thrown his way. As he’d gotten older, he’d been more interested in quality than volume, but women had always been available.
He’d been charmed, blown away and knocked sideways by different women, but he couldn’t remember any of them giving him such a kick to the gut with a handful of words.
He wanted to tell her that she was right to trust him. That he would protect her, be there to take care of things. Only they were having dinner, not getting married. It was the town, he told himself. Or the way she looked in her dress. Or how big her eyes got when she looked at him.
“Lemonade okay?” he asked.
“Lemonade?”
He held in a grin. “You were expecting something else?” Because wine was a lot more traditional. But he hadn’t wanted her worrying about the evening and how it would progress. Not serving alcohol went a long way toward allowing her to relax.
He stepped back and poured them each a glass, then led the way out onto the patio.
The barbecue was at the far end. There were a couple of lounge chairs by the back door. She took one, and he settled in the other. They clinked glasses.
“How’s Starr?” he asked.
“Better. We’ve had a few therapy sessions.” She smiled. “It’s not like I thought.”
“You’re not lying on a sofa, talking about your feelings?”
She laughed. “No. We sit upright and talk about problems, then the therapist offers really practical suggestions on how to approach them. Starr is going to have chores she has to do every week and get an allowance. We’ve made a list of house rules and punishments.” There was wonder in her voice.
“Is that good?”
“It’s strange, but yes, I think it’s good. Normal teenage responsibilities. Starr has consistency. We both know what’s expected and what the consequences are if she breaks a rule. So I don’t have to worry about being the bad guy. We’ve negotiated everything in advance, so she’s a part of the decision-making process.”
He thought about how things had been when he’d been a kid. How his father would lash out for no apparent reason, and the consequences were often destructive.
“My parents could have used a system like that,” she continued. “There weren’t any rules. What I could and couldn’t do changed from day to day. A lot of my friends were envious, but it wasn’t as fun as it sounded.”
“You never knew if you were okay,” he said.
“You’re right. I don’t want that for Starr. I want her to feel safe.” She turned toward him. “You left home when you were pretty young, right? To ski?”
“Uh-huh. I lived with my coach and his family, and there were lots of rules. Breaking them was not an option.”
“Like what?”
“Everything from keeping up with my schoolwork to exercising to what I ate to getting enough sleep. I had to be in peak shape to compete.” He winked. “My body is a temple.”
She laughed. “Of course it is.” Her mouth twitched. “I was going to make a vestal-virgin joke, but that’s probably not a good idea.”
“It is if you want to talk about it.”
“Vestal virgins? Not really.”
“Your virginity.”
She sipped her lemonade. “Not my favorite topic.”
Nor his, but there were things to be said. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
She turned to him. “You didn’t. I mean it hurt a little, but it wasn’t a big deal. The pain.” She sighed. “Now that I’m learning how to be in a family unit, I can see that you were right before. When you said I should have told you. I wasn’t thinking straight, so that was part of it. And the other part is...” She hesitated. “I wasn’t embarrassed exactly. But I knew being a virgin at my age made me different. Of course, a lot of things make me different.”
She looked away as she spoke. As if unsure about his reaction to what she was saying.
“Why would you worry about that? You’re beautiful, talented, caring. Why would you think you don’t fit in?”
“I didn’t exactly have a normal childhood. I don’t play well with others.”
Several things occurred to him at the same time. First, she’d totally ignored his compliments. Because she wouldn’t believe them? Had the little girl shone less brightly than her famous parents? Second, he thought she played just fine with others. Especially with him. And he’d like to have a lot more playtime. But that wasn’t what they were talking about.
“Do you want to play with others?” he asked. “Your no-sex rule is pretty extreme.”
“I know. It’s just the things I saw. People make really bad decisions because of sex. They do things that aren’t rational or right. Avoiding the whole problem seemed the best solution.”
“But for every person who acts out, there are thousands who manage to have a sexual life and act responsibly. It’s like saying you’ve seen one kid have a tantrum in the grocery store and you didn’t like it so you’re not going to have children.”
“What is it about men and logic?” she asked, smiling at him.
“Go with your strength.”
“I still think sex is the root of all evil.”
“You know it’s not,” he said gently. “People act badly. Sex is just the delivery system.”
“Is this you trying to seduce me?”
He chuckled. “No. When I seduce you, there won’t be any question about what’s going on.”
“I plan to resist.”
He forced himself not to react when every part of him wanted to celebrate the victory. Because resisting wasn’t anything like saying no. She hadn’t asked him not to seduce her. Which meant she wanted him to. At least on some level.
“You’re a complicated woman,” he told her.
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s excellent.”
* * *
THE EVENING WENT by quickly. Starr was spending the night with Abby, so Destiny didn’t have to watch the clock. Still, she was surprised to find that by the time they’d finished dinner and dessert, it was after eleven. She’d arrived at six. How on earth had it already been five hours?
Kipling was easy to talk to, but still. Shouldn’t they have run out of things to say? Apparently not, she thought as she reluctantly put her napkin on the table.
“It’s late. I should go.”
She watched him as she spoke, hoping he would tell her to stay. Or get that sexy, predatory look and pull her into his arms. Instead he glanced at the clock, then nodded.
“I’ll walk you home.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“Don’t worry about the kitchen,” he told her. “I’ll clean up when I get back.”
He led the way to the front door. She reluctantly followed. They stepped out into the night.
The sun had set a few hours before, but the evening had yet to cool off. Heat radiated from the sidewalks and streets, giving off that “it’s summer” kind of warmth. The air smelled of cut grass and blooming flowers. Most of the houses were dark. She could hear crickets and her own breathing, but little else.
Kipling walked next to her. Close enough that they were obviously together, but not so close that they touched. She found herself wanting to move closer, to have her arm brush his. Which was confusing. What had happened to her sensible plan with a sensible man and a meeting of the minds kind of relationship? In something like that, there was no need for arm brushing. And yet that was what she wanted.
And kissing, she thought wistfully. A little kissing would be nice. With tongue. And maybe a bit of groping. Because she missed the feel of his hands on her breasts. And his mouth. She would like to feel that again.
“The stars are pretty,” she said in an effort to distract herself from her wayward thought. “I like that you can see them here.”
“Me, too. I miss the stars when I’m in a big city.”
Because he would have seen them when he was in the mountains.
Funny how she never thought of Kipling’s previous life. He had a slight limp and a few scars, but otherwise could have been anyone.
“Do you miss it?” she asked without thinking. “Skiing?”
“Every day.”
She glanced at him. “Because it wasn’t your choice to be done?”
“Some, and because I can’t go back. I could probably make my way down a mountain if I had to, but it wouldn’t be pretty. I’d have to go slow, not take risks.”
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