Sidecar Crush (Bootleg Springs Book 2)

by Claire Kingsley

  I pulled the ball cap down and squeezed my eyes shut to stop the sudden rush of tears. I was not going to cry sitting here in Yee Haw Yarn and Coffee. Not over this. These girls didn’t know me.

  “You know she’s supposedly here, right?” the second girl asked.

  “Here?” she asked. “Like, here, in this town? What is she doing here?”

  “Running around with some guy,” she said. “James or Jamie or something like that. I don’t know, I saw it this morning. He’s probably married, too.”

  “Oh my god, I have to see this,” the first girl said. “Can you imagine if we saw her in person?”

  There was a pause—I figured they were looking things up on their phones—and I should have left. But I held my breath, waiting. James or Jamie… did that mean the media knew about Jameson?

  The first girl gasped. “You’re right. Look at this. Oh my god, he’s hotter than Brock. I guess when Brock went crawling back to Maisie, Leah went and found herself a rebound. Who is this guy?”

  “According to this, he’s just some random guy,” she said. “Jameson Bodine? How did she even meet him? It’s so weird.”

  “I hope he knows what he’s getting into,” the other girl said. “I wonder if they even know about the show out here. Oh my god, maybe he has no idea who she is. Wouldn’t that be crazy? He’s just some poor, innocent country boy, thinking he lucked out with a hot girl. What’s he going to think when he finds out the truth?”

  “I don’t know, but according to this, his dad is being investigated for the murder of a sixteen-year-old girl,” she said.

  “Holy shit.”

  Oh, no. My chest felt like it had caved in on itself and a swirl of nausea rolled through my belly. I grabbed my phone and searched my name, clicking on the first result. It was an article in a gossip column. I skimmed it quickly and my fears were confirmed. It mentioned me, Bootleg Springs, and Jameson Bodine.

  But it didn’t stop there. It said that Jameson was a local artist, but then went into the Callie Kendall case and his father’s possible connection to her disappearance. I felt sicker by the second.

  With Leah Larkin’s failed attempt to steal Brock Winston away from his wife, Maisie Miller, she has apparently taken refuge in the backwoods of West Virginia, in a little town called Bootleg Springs. And she’s not alone. Confirmed photographs show Leah Larkin with local Bootleg Springs artist Jameson Bodine. But if Leah was hoping to keep her fling with the hot country boy out of the press, she should have chosen someone with a lower profile. Jameson Bodine’s father, the late Jonah Bodine, is being investigated as a person of interest in the disappearance of Callie Kendall, a sixteen-year-old girl. Kendall, the daughter of Judge and Mrs. Kendall, went missing from Bootleg Springs twelve years ago, and her disappearance has gone unsolved. Recently uncovered evidence points the finger at the Bodine family, and resulted in the reopening of the case.

  I closed the article, my heart in my throat. I wanted to believe it was just this one gossip column, but if this site was reporting it, that meant it was everywhere. They didn’t bother with little stories. They always went for the big stuff.

  Leaving my muffin untouched and my coffee still half-full, I rushed out. I needed to talk to Jameson.

  24

  Jameson

  My face broke into a wide smile when Leah Mae came rushing into my workshop. I pulled off my leather gloves and pushed my safety goggles up to rest on top of my head.

  “Hey, darlin’,” I said, but my smile quickly faded. Something was wrong.

  She came in wearing one of my plaid shirts she’d asked for. But it no longer looked like mine. She’d belted it at the waist and added something that sparkled around the buttons. Her hair hung in a long braid over one shoulder and she had my Cock Spurs hat on. She looked so damn adorable, I wanted to eat her up.

  But the stricken expression on her face had me scooping her into my arms as fast as I could get to her. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  She breathed in a slow breath and pulled the hat off. Looked me in the eyes. “Jameson, I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” I didn’t like the way her voice sounded. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Someone found out I’m here, in Bootleg,” she said. “The gossip columns know, and now they’re printing stories about it.”

  “Well, that was bound to happen,” I said. “It’s not like you’ve been in hiding.”

  “No, but someone took pictures of us,” she said. “They found out who you are, and they’re talking about you, too.”

  I blinked at her a few times. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the gossip columns,” she said. “They’re saying I came out here to hide and hooked up with some local guy. And there’s stuff about you, and your art.”

  “All right,” I said, trying to process what she was saying. I didn’t like the idea of being talked about in the media, but I’d known it was possible. Hoped we could avoid it, but with all the attention on her show, it wasn’t too surprising. “That’s not the end of the world, now is it? Were you afraid I’d be mad?”

  She nibbled her lip and fiddled with the end of her braid. “They’re reporting things about your dad, and Callie Kendall.”

  That made my back stiffen, so I took a deep breath. “Well, I guess that’s just something we’ll have to deal with.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve been having so much fun with you, I sort of forgot the rest of the world exists. I should have been more careful.”

  I gathered her into my arms again and kissed her forehead. “This isn’t your fault. What were we going to do, wear disguises every time we went outside? We’ll just lay low for a while. Stay in more than we go out.”

  She rested her hands on my chest. “I didn’t want to subject you to this.”

  “I know.” I leaned down and kissed her. “First of all, you’re worth it. And second, I think we can find things to do that keep us out of the way of any stray cameras.”

  She finally smiled. “I think so too.”

  I kissed her again, tasting her cherry lip balm—which had recently become my favorite flavor. “Tell you what. I’ll see your bad news and raise you some good. Jonah is gone, and I don’t expect he’ll be home until late tonight. That means we have the place to ourselves.”

  “I’m a little bit crazy about you, Jameson Bodine,” she said. “I hope you know that.”

  “The feeling’s mutual, darlin’.”

  I’d assured Leah Mae that me turning up in the press with her wouldn’t be a big deal. But after a while, I wasn’t so sure I’d been right about that. Turned out, it was kind of a big deal.

  They had indeed published photos of me and Leah Mae. I reckoned some nosy tourist had recognized her and snapped some pictures. Somehow they’d figured out who I was, and next thing we knew, the Leah Larkin story had a whole new level of scandal.

  Not only had she supposedly tried to break up a marriage, now she was running around with the son of a man being investigated for killing a teenage girl.

  Didn’t matter that it was technically a missing persons investigation, considering Callie’s body had never turned up. And it also didn’t matter that a dead man couldn’t be charged with murder. The gossip columns weren’t much different than the studio behind Roughing It—not interested in showing the facts or the truth. Very interested in sensationalism and ratings. Or in this case, clicks and advertising dollars.

  Dragging my family’s name through the mud, just like they were dragging Leah Mae’s, made for a juicy story. And apparently they were going to take full advantage, no matter who they hurt in the process.

  I insisted Leah Mae come stay with me for a while. I didn’t want her alone at that cabin. She still went to see her dad most days, and it wasn’t like I’d stop her. But I worried about who was lurking around town, hoping to get some pictures. And this way, we could hide out somewhere safe and wait for it to all blow over without adding fuel to the fire.

  Peo
ple still found us, though. I went with her to get some of her things at the cabin, and there was someone parked just up the road, waiting. Snapped some pictures of us before we could get inside. Neither of us could go into town without being followed. Leah Mae said the best thing to do was ignore them, but it wasn’t easy.

  I knew things were about to get worse when I got a text from Scarlett, calling for a family meeting at Bowie’s.

  Jonah and I drove out to Bowie’s place early the next morning. Bowie was in the kitchen cooking up breakfast, but the lack of waffles told me everything I needed to know. This was about me. I sank down into a chair and waited for Scarlett and Gibson to arrive.

  The wait wasn’t long. Scarlett and Gibs came in a few minutes later. By the look Gibson gave me, I could tell he was mad. He always looked angry—to people who didn’t know him, at least—but there was a difference between the everyday-Gibson scowl, and an angry-Gibson scowl. I was getting a ragey vibe from him the moment he walked in the door.

  Bowie, Jonah, and Scarlett all dished up some breakfast. I didn’t bother to get up, and Gibson sat down across from me, leveling me with a glare.

  Shit.

  “All right, I think y’all know why we’re here,” Bowie said.

  “Yep,” Gibson said, not taking his eyes off me.

  “The stories circulating around are gettin’ out of hand,” Bowie said. “Started off with just stuff about Leah Mae and Jameson. I’m sure you didn’t like that too much, but it seemed harmless. But then they started in on the Callie Kendall case and the possible connection with Dad.”

  “And now the whole goddamn country is talkin’ about the Bodine family secret,” Gibson said. “Like it was ever a fuckin’ secret.”

  Bowie tipped his head, like he was acknowledging what Gibson had said, but he would have found a more diplomatic way to say it. “Right. I don’t know what’s happening with the investigation.”

  “It’s not like the cops are going to give us a call and let us know if they find anything,” Jonah said.

  “Exactly. But now all these stories are bringing attention to the case,” Bowie said. “I think we need a public statement. At least that way the press will have the truth.”

  “Devlin and I can work on that with Jayme,” Scarlett said.

  “Thanks, Scar.”

  “This is bullshit,” Gibson grumbled.

  “Simmer down, Gibs,” Scarlett said.

  “No, you simmer down,” Gibson said. “The whole thing was going away until knucklehead over there had to go and start dating some reality TV tramp.”

  I stood and lunged at Gibson. Got an inch from his face before Bowie and Jonah’s strong grips on my arms held me back.

  “You watch your fucking mouth,” I said.

  Gibson’s eye twitched. “This is on you, Jameson. There are pictures of you two all over the place. You were dumb enough to let it happen.”

  I strained against Jonah and Bowie, but the two of them together were strong enough to keep me away from Gibson. Barely.

  “I swear, if you say one more word about her, I’ll break your fucking nose, you hear me?” I growled.

  “Outside, then,” Gibson said, standing.

  “Boys,” Scarlett snapped. “Enough. Y’all aren’t helping anything by going at each other’s throats.”

  “It’s his fault,” Gibson said.

  “Oh my god,” Scarlett said, rolling her eyes. “Next you’re gonna say he started it. Don’t make me act like your mama or I will box your ears and stick you in the damn corner.”

  Gibson scowled and sat. Jonah and Bowie released their grips on me and I straightened my shirt.

  “You think I like this?” I asked. “This is the stuff of my nightmares. It was bad enough when it was just the town talking about whether Dad murdered Callie. Now it’s all over the damn country? In case you haven’t noticed, people lookin’ at me is not my favorite thing. And I have far more of it than I’m comfortable with at the moment. So you can all just back the hell off.”

  “I’m sorry, Jame. I know this has been rough,” Scarlett said.

  I nodded, and almost went after Gibson again when he glowered at me, but my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Leah Mae: Kelvin is in town. I agreed to meet him at Moonshine.

  My anger at my brother had nothing on the wave of rage that poured through me, sizzling through my veins like liquid steel. Grinding my teeth, my back and arms clenching, I typed out a quick reply.

  Me: Be there in five.

  “What’s wrong?” Scarlett asked.

  “Leah Mae’s asshole ex showed up,” I said. “She’s meetin’ him at Moonshine.”

  “Oh, hell no,” Jonah said and we all glanced at him. “Bootleg justice, right?”

  “You are definitely a Bodine,” Bowie said, patting him on the back. “Let’s go.”

  We poured out of Bowie’s front door, piling into cars. Scarlett declared she was not missing this, so she got into Jonah’s car with me and Bowie. Gibson brought up the rear in his Charger. He was by himself, but he did come. I was still mad over what he’d said about Leah Mae, but I appreciated that he wasn’t going to leave this one to us.

  We were still brothers, after all. This was how we did things.

  Leah Mae was already inside Moonshine when we pulled up, sitting in a booth across from that asshole. I had to admit, the look on his face when the entire Bodine family walked in that restaurant was worth the price of admission and more.

  25

  Leah Mae

  Kelvin stood when I walked into Moonshine. Instead of his usual business casual attire, he was dressed in a black hoodie and track pants. Of course, they were Lululemon. The guy managed to be pretentious even when he was dressed down.

  I nodded at Clarabell, then took a seat across from Kelvin. She eyed him with open skepticism—maybe even a touch of hostility—as she came over to our table.

  “Mornin’,” she said. “Coffee?”

  Kelvin ignored her and sat back down.

  I met her eyes. “Sorry. I guess not. Maybe give us a few minutes?”

  “Sure thing, honey,” she said, and took her coffee carafe back to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “You stopped answering my calls,” he said. “You won’t text me back. What was I supposed to do?”

  “How about move on?”

  “Leah, I don’t know what game you think you’re playing out here, but slumming with some backwoods West Virginia hillbilly is low.”

  My eyes widened so much I thought they might pop out of their sockets. “Excuse me? You did not just call Jameson a hillbilly.”

  “Well, it’s the truth,” he said. “The man’s father murdered some girl.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh my god. Is that why you came out here? You saw the story about me and Jameson, and you just couldn’t let it go?”

  “You’re throwing away everything we worked for,” he said. “I know you still don’t have an agent. Who’s working for you? Who’s making sure your next gig is lined up? What the hell are you going to do with yourself out here? Open up a moonshine slushy stand?”

  I paused for a second, because a moonshine slushy stand would do very well in Bootleg, especially during the summer months.

  “Jesus, Leah,” he said. “You’re thinking about that, aren’t you?”

  Before I could reply, the color drained from Kelvin’s face, leaving him stark white—maybe even a little green. His eyes were on the door and I knew immediately what—or more importantly, who—he must be looking at.

  Not two seconds later, our booth was surrounded by Bodines.

  Gibson leaned against the table across the aisle. It wasn’t empty, but the couple sitting there just glanced at him and went back to their breakfast. Jonah and Bowie took a slightly more subtle approach and sat at an empty table—facing us. Scarlett joined them, an amused smile on her face.

  Jameson crossed his arms and casually leaned against the back of K
elvin’s side of the booth.

  “Really?” Kelvin asked, his voice thick with disdain.

  Jameson didn’t answer.

  “Are these assholes for real?” Kelvin asked.

  I glanced around at each of them, my gaze stopping on Jameson. He picked at his fingernails like he was bored.

  Clarabell came out with a stack of menus and held them out, offering to anyone who needed one.

  “We won’t be needin’ those, sweetheart,” Gibson said.

  I sighed. I didn’t need Jameson to fight this battle for me—and I really didn’t need the rest of his family doing it, either. I was about to say something to Jameson, but Kelvin started in again.

  “You think you know her?” Kelvin asked, twisting to look up at Jameson. “You don’t get to come in here and speak for her.”

  “No one’s speakin’ for Leah Mae,” Jameson said. “She’s perfectly capable of doing that all on her own. We’re just here to make sure you behave yourself is all.”

  I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling. They weren’t here to rescue me, or fight my battle because they didn’t think I could. They were just here to make sure I was okay. And their presence helped. With Jameson and his family backing me up, I felt like I could take on the world. Or, my ex-fiancé-agent, at least.

  “This town is insane,” Kelvin muttered under his breath and scooted farther from Jameson.

  “No, I’d say what’s insane is you flying all the way to West Virginia because you saw gossip about me with another man,” I said. “You’re the one who kept insisting my so-called relationship with Brock Winston was a good thing. And let’s not forget, you were willing to put me on dating show with not one bachelor, but six.”

  Jameson raised his eyebrows. Gibson cracked his knuckles.

  Kelvin glanced around, like he didn’t want to talk with so many people around. I didn’t blame him, but I certainly wasn’t going to ask them to leave. I folded my hands in front of me and pressed my lips together, waiting.