by Genia Avers
“What are you talking about?”
“When I got the recording contract, I wasn’t even happy.” He shrugged.
He looked so lost. Tanith shoved her hand in her pocket to keep from stroking his cheek. She should slap him.
“I’ve been waiting for this contract my whole life, but it’s not enough. I want you to be happy with me. It’s not the same without you.”
She couldn’t believe he meant her. Did he really want her to sing that much—enough to lie about feelings? That didn’t seem like Brent.
She couldn’t look at him, not yet. “Okay,” she whispered, staring at her feet. “I hear you, but I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been an ass, but I was afraid the thing between us wasn’t real. Heck, I didn’t think you even cared about me until Marcus—”
“Marcus?”
“I wanted to talk to you, Tanith. Hell, what am I saying—”
“Wait.” She waved her palm in front of his face. “What about Marcus?”
Brent blinked. He didn’t seem to understand her question.
“Brent, you said you didn’t think I cared about you until Marcus. Until Marcus what? What did he say?”
Brent blinked again. “He said… Was he wrong? Do you care about me?”
Tanith sucked in a breath. No way would she answer that question. “What difference does it make? You don’t care about me.”
“Don’t care about you?” He laughed. The jerk actually laughed at her.
“Are you insane? I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Wanted you more after you sang, and now that I know you… If I’d admitted that, even to myself, I would never have gotten the songs finished. We wouldn’t have gotten the tracks completed on time and the band’s one shot would have gone down the tubes. Hell, if I’d even talked to you, I would never have gotten out of your bed.”
She held her breath, “Are you saying—”
“I’m not good at this, but I think I’m crazy about you. I thought you knew.”
Tanith sputtered, unable to speak. Was he dense? Of course she hadn’t known. Worse, now that she knew, instead of being deliriously happy, she felt spitting mad.
“How the hell could I know? You acted like we were…chums! You were… What are you grinning at?”
“Part of the reason I didn’t talk to you sooner is that I was afraid you’d reject me. I tried to convince myself you were just like Amanda, but I’ve always known you’re too classy for a guy like me. Tanith, your voice is so great, you don’t need us. If I’d made a play for you and you’d told me to take a hike, my great new songs would never have gotten noticed.”
“So you used me for my voice.”
“I…eh—”
Tanith grinned, feeling perversely pleased with his discomfort. “Relax, Holden. My voice would be nothing without your songs.”
She closed her mouth, realizing she’d softened. She punched him in the chest, harder than she’d intended. He held out his hand taking the brunt of her blow with his palm.
“What makes you think I’m not rejecting you now, Holden?”
He grabbed her wrists and held them behind her back. He kissed her, a gentle, knowing kiss that fueled her passion. And infuriation.
“I’m not. Just hoping.”
She pushed back. “You—”
“Like I said, you’re a classy lady.” He grinned, bringing her wrists to his lips to kiss each one. “If you were blowing me off, you’d be gentle, not spitting fury. Your feistiness is turning me on, by the way.”
She tried to punch at him again, but he tightened his grasp. He leaned forward to kiss her again.
Tanith tried to remain passive. She did her best not to return his kiss, but she couldn’t control her own mouth. His tongue explored her mouth and she could feel every nerve ending in her body as the synapses danced against her skin. The cold day morphed into the Fourth of July on Daytona Beach.
No. She couldn’t go down that hole.
She pulled back. Brent released her lips, but held onto her hands.
She dropped her head and whispered. “I thought there was someone else.”
He pulled her into a bear hug and laughed. “You better ask for a refund for that master’s degree. After the ride we had, you think I’d settle for anyone else?”
Oh, mercy. Everything she’d ever wished for and then some.
Wished for…
No, no, no. Hadn’t she learned anything? She wanted Brent, wanted him so badly she’d never stop hurting, but there’d be a cost associated with getting what she wanted. A cost that would tear them apart. And she knew exactly how fate planned to throw the sucker punch.
“Brent, I’m…” Tanith stared into his eyes. The emotion visible in the jade depth almost made her reconsider. “I am crazy about you too.”
He grinned. “Good to know.”
She looked at the ground, determined to have her say before she caved in and destroyed both of their futures. “Maybe not. This thing between us won’t work in the long run. You know that, right?”
He placed his hand under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “It’s already working.”
She shook her head. “Maybe for you.”
Brent dropped his hands to his sides, his arms went rigid. “Oh.”
She glanced at his face, seeing hurt in his expression. He’d misunderstood. “Wait, I didn’t mean you don’t work for me. I meant…I mean we might be working, but we can’t last. We’re too different.”
He exhaled, some of tension leaving his shoulders. “That’s not true. We both love music, we both—”
“Hear me out. The Tough Guys are a success. That’s your dream, not mine.”
“But you…”
She tried to smile, but the same lethargy that enveloped her body at her parents’ funeral consumed her again. “I don’t want to be famous. I don’t even want to be semi-famous. I’m just not lead singer material.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I meant it when I said I’m not singing with the Tough Guys anymore.”
He swallowed, the sound echoing in the silence. “Okay.”
“So you see…” She stopped talking and concentrated on not crying.
“Tanith.” Brent pulled her head against his chest. “I love your voice. The Tough Guys need your voice. But if you’re not happy, I’ll figure something out. When I said I need you to be happy, I need you, not your voice.”
Oh, Lord. He wasn’t going to make this easy. Her heart was already having pitch problems. “It’s more than that, Brent. The songs we finished are good. Maybe even great. When it’s released, the band will become a household name. I don’t…” More tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be famous. I can’t be a rock star.”
“So don’t be a rock star. I promise, Tanith, I’ll find a replacement for you before we go on tour.”
She shook her head. “Then what?”
“What do you mean?”
“You go on tour? I stay home?”
He reached for her hands. “Tanith, don’t. I know the reputation most rockers have. I’m not like that. I’ll never be like that. I won’t cheat on you.”
She bit at her lip. The man definitely wasn’t on the same wavelength. Another sign they weren’t meant to be.
“It’s not that. Even if we could manage a long-distance relationship, the press will still want to know about your significant other. I’m a private person. Being in the limelight, even the secondary light, would kill me. I can’t be a rock star’s girl.”
He put his hands on her cheeks. When she stared back at him, his eyes were shiny. “So you’re giving up? You don’t care enough about us to try and make this work.”
Tanith sniffled, determined she wouldn’t sob like a heroine from a B-grade movie. “I’d never ask you to give up your dream. Don’t ask me to live a life I don’t want.”
She hurried upstairs before he made her look at him again. She didn’t know if she could stare into
his eyes again and maintain her resolve.
Chapter Fourteen
Tanith rubbed her neck, wondering why her shoulder felt so stiff. She opened her eyes and stared at the pale blue ceiling of her living room. Great. She’d zonked out on the couch again.
She forced her body into a sitting position, wondering how she could sleep fourteen hours a day and still feel so tired. Since her parting scene with Brent, she’d done nothing but sleep. And mope.
Two weeks without a single phone call. Not even a text message.
His absence proved her point. They weren’t meant to be. If only it didn’t hurt so much.
Her doorbell rang. Probably Darson.
She dragged her aching body to the entrance. A large bouquet of roses greeted her.
The flowers lowered. The face of the man she loved stared back at her.
“Brent?” Oh, God. She looked like hell. “Give me a minute.”
“Nu-uh.”
A hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. “You’re not getting away from me again, Tanith.”
“I’m not headed for the border. I just need to brush my teeth so I don’t kill you with my breath.”
“Don’t care.” He laid the roses down and took her other hand. “We need to talk.”
“Before I brush my teeth?”
“Before anything. I may not have a master’s degree like some people I know—by the way, congratulations on that—but I think I’ve figured out a way we can be together. That is, if you want to be with me.”
“I...eh, how?” Tanith realized her mouth hung open and clamped her lips together. Bad enough she was breathing on him, at least she’d do it with a closed mouth.
“I’m no longer playing with the Tough Guys.”
“What? No.” She’d heard wrong. Tanith blinked her eyes, not sure how that would help her hearing.
“Yes.”
“No. You can’t do that, Brent. You love that group.”
“I do. But you won’t date a rock star and I want us to work.”
She shook her head, so hard the clip went flying across the room. Her nighttime hair came tumbling down. She’d probably scare small children, but she had more important things to worry about.
Brent lifted a curl, grinning. “That’s better.”
She tugged the strand out of his hand. “Forget about my hair. You can’t quit playing lead. You may think you’re being noble, but sooner or later, you’ll resent me.”
“Not going to happen. Besides I’ve already hired my replacement. And yours. Thanks for the list. The new girl is not quite as good as you, but she’s pretty awesome. The big bosses are happy with her.”
Good news about her—bad news about him. “Oh, God. Tell the new guitarist you don’t need him, Brent. You have to play. If you really want us to work, I’ll try to live with your fame.”
His grin faded. “You’d really do that?”
Tanith wheezed. “Yes.”
He pulled her into his arms. She leaned back from her waist to look up at him.
“Tan, after we talked, I realized I don’t want to be famous either.”
“That’s crazy. You love playing almost as much as songwriting.”
He lifted her hand to his head and kissed it. “I do love to play, but I don’t have to be in front of a crowd. After thinking about what you said, I decided I’m not too keen on the groupies and signing autographs. I’m not fond of hotels or tour buses either. I just need to write and have my songs played. “
“Really?”
He nodded.
“So you’re really going to quit the group? Please tell me you’re not doing this for me.”
Brent’s dazzling smile returned. “I’m doing this for me. And I’m not exactly quitting. I’ve drawn up a contract that lets me be part of the band without playing in it.”
Tanith blinked. “Say what?”
“I’m going to manage the group. I’m also going to write the songs. All of them. Like I said, that’s what is important to me. So if I won’t be in the—what did you call it—the limelight, if I hunker in the shadows, will you hunker with me?” He nuzzled her neck with his nose.
She pulled back. “Brent, you shouldn’t hunker. You’re too good.”
“As long as I can do this…” He paused to place a kiss on her shoulder blade. “Hunkering has a lot of appeal.”
“Brent, look at me.”
He complied.
“Are you sure? You won’t hate me later?”
“They say there’s a thin line between love and hate, but I don’t think I could ever hate you. And I’m very sure. Not playing with the band will give me more time for writing. That’s what I really want, Tan. Almost as much as I want you.”
She snuggled into his embrace, scared but ready to believe. “I suppose you’ll head off to Oh-So-Polite-But-Stay-Away-City every time you write a song?”
“No, sweetheart.” He pulled her closer. “I needed to sort out my feelings, but mostly, the deadlines were just too tight. I barely had time to eat. Now that I won’t be living hand-to-mouth, I promise I’ll make sure I have enough time to write and make love to you every day. And speaking of mouths…”
Brent kissed her again. The last of Tanith’s doubts vanished.
Epilogue
“Tan?”
Tanith looked up her husband. The wonder she always felt when she glanced at his too sexy face disappeared. His expression scared her. “What’s wrong?”
“The hospital called. It’s your Nana.”
“No.”
Brent wrapped his arms around her. “We need to get to critical care. As soon as possible.”
“I…I…” She had to swallow twice before she could speak. “I’ll go, but your single debuts today. You can’t leave.”
“There’ll be other singles, Tan.”
Where had his confidence come from? Whatever the source, she rather liked it.
“You ready?” he asked.
As much as she wanted to be tough, she needed Brent. Instead of arguing, she nodded.
The ride to the hospital rushed by in a blur. Brent parked the car and guided her, miraculously, to the right room.
She rushed to her grandmother’s bedside, horrified at the old woman’s condition. “Nana, you’re going to be all right. You’re going to get better even if I have to ask the magic book for help.”
Nana shook her head. “No, Tanith. I’m tired and I’m ready. And I don’t know anything about a book.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She hugged the old woman. “I love you, Nana.”
“I love you too, honey.” Nana lowered her voice in a conspiratorial whisper, “And I like your new man. He’s a hunk, isn’t he?”
Tanith grinned through her tears. Nana could barely breathe yet she teased as if she didn’t have a million tubes in her. Tanith tried to talk but couldn’t.
Nana patted her arm. “It’s all right, honey. I know.”
When the doctors ushered them out, Tanith thought she heard Nana say, “Magic is in the believing.”
She would never know for sure.
****
Two weeks later, Brent accompanied her to Nana’s funeral. Sadness hovered, but Tanith felt strangely at peace. She had Brent’s love and felt Nana’s beloved spirit. Both circled around her, filling her with hope.
“You okay?” Brent asked as they walked toward the limousine.
She nodded.
“Before she…went, your Nana told me to love you. Did you know that, Mrs. Holden?”
Tanith stopped and turned to face him. “She did?”
“Yep, I told her I did. I would. I tried to tell her how much, but I only have mere words.”
“Don’t let your agent hear his favorite songwriter has only mere words.” She snuggled into his chest, needing his comfort. “From personal experience, I can attest, you have a lot more than mere words, Mr. Holden.”
****
The next week, Brent stood by her again when the lawyer explained the terms of Nana�
��s will. Her grandmother left the house and a book, The Magic of Life, to Tanith. The lawyer said he couldn’t find the specified book.
Tanith thought it was all a bit odd, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t need a magic book. With Brent, life was magical enough.
Besides, the book is just a book.
Or was it? As the lawyer read the rest of the will, Tanith looked at the horde of Cox cousins sitting around the large conference room. They had arrived in Mercedes and Escalades. Was it just her imagination, or did every one of them look a lot better than they ever had?
A word about the author...
A professional computer geek, Genia Avers started writing extensively when she traded in her ski boots for flip-flops and moved to North Carolina.
She’s an avid fan of the Yankees, CCR, Latin dance, and the five o’clock shadow—not necessarily in that order.
When she’s not writing, you can find her with her toes in the sand or appreciating nature in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
A Golden Heart finalist and winner of the prestigious Daphne du Maurier contest, she has one constant: a HEA.
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