Goodbyes and Second Chances (The Bleu Series Book 1)

by T. I. Lowe

  I’m still not certain why the message was needed, but now I’m eating up to know. A few weeks back before the London show, at the Amsterdam concert, Dillon, Logan, and Max sat perched on top of stools with the stage lights low. The performance was intimate and subdued. They played an exclusively acoustic concert, serenading the surprised crowd. The entertainment news was all over it, saying how the guys’ change-ups were unique and refreshing.

  To me, something was off and last night I finally put my finger on it. This latest video was footage of last week’s Ontario performance. This was the last stop on the international tour. All the guys were running around the stage, playing all kinds of instruments. At one point the stage held two grand pianos. One was a dazzling blue and the other a gleaming black. Dillon claimed the blue with Trace at the black, and the two set out in an impromptu battle of the piano, causing the audience to go wild. They could have given Elton John a run for his money with how they poured their magical talent out all over those keys. Later the boys busted out banjos, a mandolin, and an accordion and went to town Mumford and Sons style. Dillon declared the audience his favorite and had the stagehands give out an overabundance of tour T-shirts. He then announced that their next tickets would be half off. Of course the fans went crazy at this point. By the last bow, Dillon was washed down in sweat and looked completely spent on more than one level. A few close-ups gave away weariness in his eyes that no one seemed to pick up on. I caught it though. He seemed to be apologizing unnecessarily to the crowd, even though they roared the entire concert with ample approval.

  I watched the footage over and that’s when I spotted the missing factor. Mave was absent in nearly all the last concerts. I am always so busy watching Dillon that I rarely pay the other guys any attention. This curious observation piqued my interest, so I went farther back to other footage. Some concerts a few months ago, Mave would play half the show before disappearing. He looked gaunt and pale. Then Dillon would finish the show with a solo acoustic performance or play the drums himself. Something was up with Mave, I just knew it. I searched the online tabloids for any scoop, but they had nothing. I have no way of finding out, so all I know to do for him is pray.

  “You watching those guys again?” Will asks as he strolls up to my desk, causing me to jump at being caught.

  I flip the laptop screen shut before answering him. “You know I love their music. Can’t a girl crush on a band?” I ask, and he shrugs his shoulders. “Well, don’t be jealous. You’re my main man. Are you ready for our date?” I brush the hair off his forehead and give him a kiss.

  He nods and pulls me to the door. We head out for a quick bite to eat before hitting the movie theater. I like when we go to the movies. I always let Will pick the movie. It’s a win-win. He watches whatever he wants and I can be left alone with my thoughts and not have to be social. I feel guilty. This is supposed to be Will-and-me time, yet I sit here and cannot stop thinking about Dillon. The missing him and worrying about him is growing impatiently stronger, and I need to figure out how to tamp it down.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A week later finds me in the front office with Jen. We are propped up at the check-in counter discussing the weekend itinerary. She is sipping on her third coffee of the day and I am wondering how she doesn’t get the shakes from all the caffeine she consumes. She is a pretty perky person most of the time. If she starts with the shakes, I’ll just have to cut her off.

  I slide my gaze out over the trailer park. From here you can see the pool, the main beach with the big dock, most of the cabins, and the trailer section. The only thing out of sight is the RV Park, which is just past a thinly wooded area. It’s sunny out, and the pool and lake are glistening in an inviting manner. I’m thinking about seeing if Will wants to picnic on the beach later in the day, when Jen speaks.

  “I like Hudson’s idea of a dock carnival. All we need are a few food vendors and an entertainment group. It would be cool to shoot fireworks across the lake.” I cringe with this suggestion. If she only knew the fireworks history around this place. “The cost would be minimal and you can open the gates for day-pass guests,” she says. She’s nodding her head encouragingly. Her eyes are bright with hope.

  Here’s the thing about Hudson. He’s really a great guy, and I still consider him a friend. He doesn’t hold it against me when I get all riled up and go off on him. I think he secretly enjoys pushing my buttons. The thing is this guy always has great suggestions, too. The carnival idea is great and I’m all for it, if I can figure out how to rein Miss Excited Pants in some.

  “You’re not thinking about the trailer park residents, Jen,” I say as I focus back on the paperwork and shuffle through old itineraries for some ideas.

  “Yes, I am,” she says between sips of her latte. “They need some excitement. This place has been right boring lately. We need to pizzazz things up a bit.” She’s still nodding her head enthusiastically.

  “I’m not crazy about pizazz,” I say as I do a Google search for some other ideas.

  She rolls her eyes. “I know this. You’re so boring.”

  I roll my eyes back at her. “No. I’m safe. There’s a difference.”

  Jen shakes her head in disagreement. “Boring,” she reiterates. “This place needs some shaking up and you need some yourself.” She reaches over and gives me a playful shake.

  “No. I have Will and I need nothing shook up.”

  She’s about to go off on one of her over-caffeinated rants, so I hold my hand up to stop her. That’s when we hear the loud, forceful rumble before seeing an electric-blue Harley creep through the front gates. A man has just zoomed past the office and is now heading straight over to my little cabin. My airway ceases to exist at this very moment and panic sets in.

  “Oh, dear Jesus. Please. No. No. No,” I begin to pray as I watch him ease off the beast of a bike and saunter right into my cabin without hesitation. I think I may pass out!

  “Hot dang!” Jen shouts and slaps the counter in excitement. “Looks like pizazz just rolled on up in the form of Dillon Bleu!” We continue to watch, and she lends commentary as she is nearly bouncing up and down. “He just walked right up in your place like he owns the joint. That’s so bold. And so sexy. Man, he’s smokin’ hot!” She slaps the counter again and squeals again, “Hot dang!”

  “Ugh. Really, Jen?” I place my clammy hand on my fevered forehead and try to breathe.

  She eyes me with a smidgen of concern. “You okay? You’re all flushed.” Before I can answer, she starts giggling. “This man has you all hot and bothered.”

  “Shut up.” I feel like I’m going to snap. We both look back and find him stalking across the lot in our direction, as though he is on a mission. He’s wearing dark jeans and shirt with a leather coat—tall, dark, and dangerous all the way. I’m in so much trouble. He’s rubbing his hand through his hair from what looks like frustration. He looks way too extraordinary to be sauntering around in a mere trailer park. I jump off the stool and do a mad dash to my office. “Tell him I’m out of town and it’s best he just leaves,” I whisper as though he can already hear me. I ease into my office and lock the door behind me. I lean against it and listen as my heart hammers away.

  Moments later I hear the door open and his velvety voice fills the silence. “Hello,” he says. And I can just imagine Jen swooning like a lovesick teenager.

  “Hi,” Jen says out in a too-high-pitched voice. She giggles nervously. Oh boy. She’s star struck.

  “Tell Jillian she has company.”

  “Umm… She’s out of town. A road trip… To go visit her brother. Sorry.” Jen is sputtering and stuttering all over her words. She’s such a lousy liar. Of course Dillon is going to call her out on it. I hold my breath and listen through the door.

  “Sweetheart, that woman’s baby is parked by her cabin. Now go tell her to get her fine butt out here.”

  “Umm….” She pauses. “No. Wait. You can’t go in there!”

  Then I hear the doorknob com
e to life and nearly yelp. “Jewels, I know you’re in there. Either open up or I’m going to break the door down.” The door continues to jiggle. “I’m not playing games with you, pretty girl.” There’s a stern edge to his words.

  And I know he’s not going away, so I reluctantly open the door and look up into his stormy blue eyes. I let out the breath I was painfully holding and tears follow suit. He walks in and grabs me in a fierce hug and lifts me right off the ground.

  “Hot dang!” I hear Jen’s muffled squeal from being wrapped in his embrace. “That’s so hot!” It’s the last thing I hear Jen say because Dillon kicks the door shut in her face. I hear her laughing with excitement.

  It all happens at once and way too fast—kissing and grabbing at clothes and I know I’m in trouble. Dillon is claiming my lips like a starved man. His jacket has hit the floor and he is working at getting my shirt over my head when I come to my senses. What is wrong with me?

  “Stop,” I say sternly, trying to snap him out of his lustful fog. I try to wiggle free, but he pulls me back to him. I try to push away again. “No, Dillon. We can’t do this.”

  “Right,” he says caveman style. “Cabin.” He grabs my hand and heads to the door, but I yank free from him. He looks back at me with his dark brows furrowed in confusion.

  “We can’t do this.” I push him for good measure. “Just because I’m poor doesn’t mean I’m cheap!” All of a sudden I’m angry and actually want to slap him. What is wrong with me?

  This seems to snap him back to reality. He runs his hands over his face and takes a few deep breaths before he replies. “I didn’t mean to insult you. Sorry. I just can’t help it, Jewels. I missed you.” He looks remorseful and is still trying to catch his breath.

  “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of groupies waiting to take care of you. Now I thinks it’s best you leave.” I point towards the door, trying to set my mouth in a sneer. I’m struggling to hold on to this mean-girl attitude. It’s slipping fast, and I feel as though I’m close to melting in a puddle on the floor.

  “The only woman I’ve ever wanted has wasted too much of our time, trying to push me away. I’m done with the waiting, Jewels. I’ve given you five years. My patience has run out!” He stalks aggressively back towards me again. And dear me, he has me swooped up and thrown me over his shoulder before I can blink. He storms out of the office, carrying me over to my cabin before I can protest. Jen stands at the door cheering him on. I think I need to fire her. “Woo-hoo!” I hear her shout before he kicks this door shut too.

  Dillon sits on the small couch and places me in his lap. It’s not the bed, and that’s a good sign. I hope I made my boundaries clear. I can’t afford to make any more mistakes. And he is just too tempting.

  We say nothing for a very long time, trying to catch our breath and gather our thoughts. But then it hits me all of a sudden—Will. Will could come up at any minute and catch us together. I think I’m about to be sick, so I bolt up out of his lap and run into the bathroom. I hear Dillon mutter my name as I lock myself in. I ignore him to fish my cell phone out of my pocket and speed-dial Leona.

  She answers on the second ring. “Dillon is here… Will,” I say.

  “I can handle that,” she says and I hang up. I’m not sure how she plans on doing that, but I know she will, so I let out a sigh of some relief.

  I ease back out into the room and have a good look at him. He is just as beautiful of a man as he ever has been. His black hair just touches his shoulders, and all I want to do is run my hands through it. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him without his signature blue streak. I walk closer to stand in front of him and continue to look him over. That jawline is even more defined, and his face is so chiseled with masculinity. I can only imagine how many walls this man’s poster has been hung on. He’s drop-dead gorgeous and way too enticing. There’s a faint scar on his chin that wasn’t there five years ago. I graze my thumb over it with question. He doesn’t answer right away so I tap it gently and wait.

  “A mob jumped me in Sacramento after a concert and beat me within an inch of my life,” he says somberly. I punch him in the arm at his poor joke.

  His lips creep slowly into a crooked grin. “You still hit like a girl.” He grabs hold of my arm and cradles my palm to his chin. I can feel the texture of the scar on my skin. “Max and Trace booby-trapped my dressing room door before a concert in Sacramento. A bucket was supposed to swing out and dump water all over me. The idiots forgot to take my height into consideration and the dang thing crashed into my chin. Trace had to open the show while they hauled in a doctor to sew my chin up. Singing through fresh stitches made for one long and painful night.”

  “I think them boys are a hazard to your wellbeing,” I say as I look into his weary expression. I take my free hand and graze my fingertips along his furrowed forehead. He looks so drained. Something, or should I say, someone, has taken quite a toll on him. I ask the question I’ve wanted answered for weeks now. “What’s wrong with Maverick?”

  He pulls me into his lap and buries his face in my neck. He lets out a long uneven sigh. “You don’t know how badly I’ve needed you. Just sitting here with you.” He stops speaking to regain his composure. He clears his throat and whispers hoarsely, “Jewels, you feel like home to me. I’ve been so homesick for you.”

  My eyes prick with tears at his statement, but I rein them in. I give in and run my hands through his silky locks as he continues to rest against my neck, breathing me in. “Is he okay?” I ask after a while. His reluctance at answering me makes me nervous.

  “I had to check him into rehab this week,” he says after another long sigh.

  “What?” I pull his head up gently so he has to meet my eyes.

  “He got mixed up with a bad bunch, and the next thing I know he’s too high to perform most of the last leg of the tour.” Dillon shakes his head in disbelief at his own words. “I thought we got past all that crap unscathed, but Mave… Well, you know Mave. It’s like trouble always finds him. The dude has always been too curious for his own good.”

  “Is he going to be okay?”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “He promised me to get better, if I promised not to replace him in the band.”

  “I guess that explains all of your odd concerts lately,” I say without a thought.

  Dillon scrutinizes me with an eyebrow raised in question. “Just how do you know about that? I’ve not seen you in the crowd since that one night. And trust me; I always have security on the lookout for you.” This thought makes me excited for some reason—him still looking for me all of these years.

  “I keep up with you on the Internet. It’s become my good friend,” I say. I continue to run my hands through Dillon’s hair. I like how it seems to be relaxing him. Some of the stress around his eyes appears to be easing away. I hate that he has had to go through this mess with Mave without me.

  “Pretty girl, you could have been having the real thing all of these years. You want to tell me what’s going on? Why’d you push me away?” he whispers.

  “I didn’t want to get in your way. You were just getting started. Really. I would have just gotten in the way.”

  Dillon leans his forehead against mine with his eyes still holding me captive. “How could you have gotten in my way if you were by my side, where you belong?”

  Good grief. He just doesn’t give up. We’re having a stare down for a spell when he releases a long yawn. He looks so tired and I’m worried about the dark circles under his eyes. I bet he is exhausted with all the extra work of filling in for Mave and then the emotional stress of having to put his friend in rehab.

  I untangle myself from him and stand. “Where are you staying?”

  He looks around the small cabin as he rests his head on the back of the couch. He needs to catch up on some rest and soon. His eyes are barely open as he speaks. “I thought here would work.” He takes in the small toy basket Aunt Evie used to keep in her trailer. “You took over Aunt Evie’s duties of
helping the young mommas out, I see.” With this I begin to cry. Dillon eases off the couch and wraps me tightly back in his arms. “I’m sorry about Aunt Evie, and I’m sorrier I couldn’t get here to you.” He places a kiss on the side of my head.

  “You couldn’t help it,” I mumble through my tears. I know he couldn’t, not with everything just taking off for him. I know me rejecting him helped to keep him away too.

  He walks us over to the bed and cradles me until I’ve mourned for all that has been lost. Once my tears subside, Dillon spoons me to him and begins to snore quietly.

  * * * *

  Later this late afternoon, I quietly scoot out of the bed. I’ve been watching Dillon sleep for hours now. It’s all a déjà vu moment. We have already lived this and seem to be doing it again. But life is different this time. And speaking of which, I head over to the office to call Leona. I charge past Jen as she is finishing up her day. I hold my hand up to her and cut her a stern look. This is enough to keep her quiet.