The minute he saw Kelsey and Deck he was glad he’d come. Even if they were wrapped tight in a lip-lock that had him wondering how they were breathing.
“God, they make my heart ache. In a good way,” Zee said as she pulled the car up next to the pavilion True had built for them. She gave him a sideways look and added, “And if you ever tell them I said that I’ll never bring you another cinnamon roll.”
“Can’t have that,” he said, feeling another spark of gladness at this bit of the old, teasing Zee back again. “But is it okay if I say they make me feel the same way?”
When she’d shut off the car she looked at him. “It would even more if you’d seen the way he was before Kelsey. When True first started to work for him.”
“He told me some. I kind of guessed at the rest. I’d already read some of his books.”
Finally coming up for air, Kelsey spotted them then, and waved as they started toward Zee’s car. They both looked a little surprised when he got out, but then he was engulfed in two simultaneous hugs. There was a lot of chatter for a couple of minutes, and he would have felt overwhelmed had it not been so genuinely delighted.
“Sorry about your friend,” Deck said.
“Yeah.” He couldn’t think of another word at the moment.
“Talk about it or not. We’re good,” Kelsey said.
He felt a burst of relief at their willingness to let it be. Then realized that everyone standing here knew up close and personal about loss. “Hell of a club we all belong to, isn’t it?”
“You mean the one no one wants to join, but almost everyone eventually does?” Zee said.
“Yeah.”
“Sucks.”
“In a word,” Deck agreed.
Then, briskly, Zee said, “We brought your speakers.”
Everyone seemed glad of the change of subject. Jamie knew he was.
“Great,” Deck said, “that’s about the final piece. Just need True to get them hooked up.”
Jamie glanced at the pavilion. “He’s already got it wired?”
“And power run out to it. You know True. Down to the last detail,” Kelsey said.
“Yeah,” Jamie agreed. He hesitated, then said, “I know those speakers. And sound stuff generally. I could hook them up right now, if you want.” His mouth quirked. “And if you trust me.”
“That would be great,” Deck exclaimed.
“And save True yet another trip,” Kelsey added.
“You say that now,” Zee said. “Wait until you see his bill.”
Jamie shot her a glance, saw nothing but her old, teasing grin. He breathed again. When he looked back Kelsey and Deck were exchanging a rather pointed glance, but he didn’t ask.
They walked over to the pavilion. It was, as he expected, built solid. Big, but not overpowering, and he noticed the concrete foundation was curved with the same arc of the river beyond, which it was angled to face. The crossbeams were sturdy, yet the ends had been neatly cut in an echoing curve, and the edges were trimmed with stone that looked remarkably like the stone of the tower, making it seem as if it truly belonged. All the attention to detail that was a True Mahan trademark.
With Deck helping, he had the four speakers up in the racks True had built in just a few minutes. Connecting them should only take a bit longer, he thought.
“Great spot,” he said from atop the ladder as he finished the last one. “It’s going to be a heck of a wedding.”
“Still won’t be good enough for her,” Deck said solemnly. “Nothing could be.”
Jamie looked down at the man who had, so unexpectedly, become a good friend. “I envy you.” Then, with a wry grimace added, “But not what you went through to get here.”
Deck smiled, and it held only a touch of sad reminiscence. “I try to look on it now only as material for Sam.”
Jamie slowly smiled back. “I get that.”
“I thought you would.”
Jamie had the feeling the man wanted to say more, but when he didn’t, he went back to work. It had been a while, but when Scorpions had started out, they’d been running on a shoestring and had done it all themselves. Things had changed a bit, but the basics were the basics, and they’d had these same speakers at the last outdoor venue they’d played, albeit a bigger version.
He finished the last connection then went down the ladder. “We’d better test it, make sure I haven’t forgotten the days when we used to hook up our own sound.”
“Yeah,” Deck said. He glanced toward the river, where Kelsey and Zee where standing, talking animatedly. Then he took a deep breath. But still didn’t speak.
“Whatever it is that’s hovering, just say it,” Jamie suggested.
“Kels and I…we…look, we’ll understand if you don’t want to do the song. At the wedding.”
Jamie’s breath caught. He’d been a bit taken aback when they’d first asked him. Not that they’d asked, he was pleased by that, but that Kelsey had said she wanted him to sing “Morning” right after she walked down the aisle, as part of the ceremony, not just the reception after. He hadn’t even realized she listened to them, she’d been so discreet. When she said it had been one of her favorite songs since it had come out, and that it had special significance to her and Deck, he’d been surprised at how that made him feel.
And that they were tactfully giving him the chance to back out now, at this late date, told him the immediate connection he’d felt with this couple was real. They were more worried about him than the biggest day of their lives together. And he couldn’t find words to say how that made him feel, so he tried turning it around.
“Change your mind?” he asked, keeping his tone light. “I get it, been a bit of bad press lately.”
Deck looked utterly shocked. “What?”
“Drug OD, lots of headlines. Might not be the kind of thing you want attached to your wedding.”
Jamie had had a lot of practice reading people’s reactions, since so often with him they were over-the-top. But he knew when Deck’s expression changed that this was real.
“I should knock you on your celebrated ass for even thinking that.”
And he could probably do it, Jamie thought. There was still enough of the fighter who had survived things no kid should ever have to deal with in this guy. “Back at you,” he said softly, “for thinking I’d want to back out.”
Deck got it. Nodded. “Just wanted to give you the chance.”
“Yeah. Thanks for that. But I wouldn’t miss it.” He grinned suddenly. “But just remember I told you I’ve never sung at a wedding before.”
“I do.” Deck grinned back. “Been thinking we should sell tickets. We could raise a lot for Kelsey’s rescue.”
Jamie lifted a brow at him. “They need it?”
Deck sighed. “She’s a little…stubborn. About taking money for it.”
“From you, you mean.”
“It’s not some hobby to her, it’s a calling. Besides, she says it makes people feel good to help, and she doesn’t want to take that away from them.”
Jamie glanced over to where the two women were walking back toward them. “You’re a lucky man, my friend.”
“Yes.” Then, after a moment. “So, should we not put you and Zee at the same table?”
Startled, Jamie’s gaze shot back to Deck. “I…”
Deck shrugged. “Hard to miss there was a bit of an edge there.”
“Especially for an observer like you,” Jamie said wryly.
“It’s what I do,” Deck agreed.
Kelsey and Zee were within earshot now, so he said only, “I’ll let you know.”
And he tried to take heart in the fact that, even three days ago, the answer would have been, “Different tables.”
Chapter Twelve
“Where are you staying?” Kelsey asked as she reached for another chip.
“At my aunt’s place,” Jamie said, wiping his fingers after the last bite of what had been a rather amazingly good roast beef sandwich. He’d missed the way Texans
let the meat speak for itself, with only the simplest of flavorings, not the elaborate sauces and trendy sides that L.A. seemed prone to.
They were gathered in the kitchen, which Jamie had to say was one of the most unique kitchens he’d ever seen. “It’s kind of overwhelming at first, three different kinds of stone and the dramatic grain of the hickory cabinets, but it’s growing on me,” Kelsey had said.
“What he means by his aunt’s place,” Zee said, her tone dry but not acerbic, “is he’s living in the tree house.”
“The tree house?” Kelsey said, clearly startled.
But Deck only leaned back in his chair at the table and nodded. “That’s really getting back to the beginning.”
Zee looked suddenly thoughtful. “I hadn’t thought of it quite like that.” She shifted her gaze back to Jamie. “Is that it?”
“Partly.”
“I thought you were just…doing your loner thing.”
“That, too.”
“Take it from an expert,” Deck said, “he’s got a ways to go on that.”
Kelsey laughed. “And you are an expert.”
“Was.”
“That, too,” Kelsey agreed blithely.
After lunch Jamie went back outside and headed toward the river, curious to see it from here, see how different it might be from where it flowed shallowly past Aunt Millie’s.
Except it’s not Aunt Millie’s anymore. It’s yours.
He swatted at the thought as if it were a Texas-sized mosquito. Focused on the water. It was deeper here, so smoother on top except where it divided to pass an outcropping of stone. He knew they had about a hundred acres here, and in that moment he envied that. Wondered if there was enough in his personal kitty to buy something like this. He hadn’t paid enough attention to that—
“Mind an interruption?”
He nearly jumped; he hadn’t heard Kelsey approach. And saying he minded didn’t really occur to him; he was standing on essentially her property. Because there was no doubt in his mind that she and Declan Kilcoyne were a united front—those two had definitely become one.
“Your place is really great.”
“It’s got…character.”
He smiled at her. “That’s what they say when they’ve got a house that’s so unique it might only fit one person.”
She grinned. “And this one fits Deck.”
“What about you?”
“It’s a bit big,” she said. “But compared to my old place, a garage was bigger.”
He laughed; he’d heard about her falling-down old cabin from True, who had been in charge of mowing it down. Which had been the spark that had started the fire that was Kelsey and Deck.
“I wanted to ask,” she said, “about you and Zee.”
He drew back slightly. “Whoa. That’s jumping right into the fire.”
“I don’t know the full history between you two, so I should probably butt out.” She paused. He couldn’t think of a damned thing to say. “This is where you say ‘Yes, you should.’ And I walk away, no offense taken.”
He studied her for a moment. Kelsey had only come to her father’s hometown after he’d already gone, so he didn’t know her any better than he knew Deck. But he’d learned a lot back in the spring, watching her—and her dynamic mother—help as Hope took her life back.
“After what you’ve done for Deck, I’m not sure I should say no to your…advice.”
She looked relieved, and smiled. “No advice. Just a female point of view, maybe?”
He had, in fact, had no shortage of that in the last few years. But most of them were telling him why, to use a Texas term, he should cut them out of the herd. He knew that was a terrible way to think about it, but half the time he wanted to ask those women what they were thinking—they didn’t know anything about him. He was thankful there had been just as many who weren’t interested in that, who were there for the music. And he’d enjoyed just talking with them more than any of the few times his mood had been such that he took one of the other offerings.
He’d expected her to take his silence as assent, but Kelsey simply waited. And he remembered again he was dealing with the woman who had drawn out one of the most reclusive men in the country. He was beginning to see how she’d done it.
“You going to say what you want to say?” It came out a bit edgy, but she never blinked.
“You going to get mad if I do?”
He sighed. “No. Yes. Maybe.” She smiled, and he added, “But not at you.”
“All I ask. I’ve gotten to know Zee fairly well. And I know you and Zee were together, up until you hit the road.”
The old mantra leapt to his lips. “I never lied to her.” He took a breath and went on. “She always knew I was leaving. Hell, she encouraged it, told me to go, to chase the dream.”
“Before or after you had sex?”
He blinked. Had she really asked that? And so casually?
When he didn’t answer, she went on. “I was a teenage girl once.”
“Figured that out.”
She ignored his wry comment. “Just like with guys, sometimes the brain is at odds with the heart. And the hormones.”
“Remember it well.”
“Sometimes the brain is saying one thing, while the heart is screaming ‘I don’t mean it.’”
“You’re saying…she didn’t mean it when she said I should go?”
“I mean teenage girls are often conflicted. And when you throw great sex into the mix, it messes it up even more.”
His mouth quirked—he couldn’t help it. “You’re assuming it was great.”
“Of course it was, or it would be long forgotten by now. And she wouldn’t be driving a car almost the exact color of your eyes.”
He stared at her. “Her…car?”
“Hadn’t you noticed?”
“I…no.”
“I did, the moment I saw you and her car at Devil’s Rock that day for Hope’s flight.”
Did women always notice things like that, tiny details of color and correlation? he wondered. Then again, he’d met her mom, who noticed everything. Maybe it was inherited.
“You’re pretty young to be so…wise.”
“You’ve met my mother,” she said simply, echoing his own thought. “Look, I’m only saying girls that age can be…stupid. Born romantics that we are.”
“Born?”
“Until life beats it out of us, I think most of us are, yes. And even though you never lied to her, maybe her heart still cherished hopes.”
“Hopes?”
“That you’d stay with her. That she was that important to you.”
He frowned this time. “She was that important. But she was the one who kept pushing me to go for the dream.”
“As I said, conflicted.”
His mouth twisted. “I think I’d use the word confusing. Maybe baffling.”
“No denial here. At that age, we even confuse ourselves. I’m just saying that while she loved you enough to want you to have your dream, and to let you go after it without trying to hold you back, she also loved you so much she wanted you to stay with her.”
“I asked her to go with me.”
“And to some I’m sure that would be a dream come true. But Zee’s a hometown girl. She loves this place. It’s her life. And she and her brother are close, and were especially close then. She knows how much she owes him.”
“I know.” He thought about it for a minute. Maybe longer. Then said slowly, “That’s still a long time to stay mad.”
“It is, so you’re going to have to ask her about now. I was just trying to help with then.”
And she had, Jamie acknowledged as they made their way back to the house. For all his thoughts of Zee—and they’d been frequent—he’d never quite looked at their parting like that.
“Kelsey?” he said as they got to the house. She looked at him. “Thanks.”
She smiled, and he felt a flash of gladness that she and Deck had found each other.
Kelsey and Deck, True and Hope. He’d bet on them all to endure. He’d bet that decades from now they’d still be together.
But he’d bet even more that he’d still be alone. Or settled for something considerably less than what his friends had gained.
Maybe he’d end as some worn-out rocker riding on past glory. Or maybe not. He wondered how long a four-year ride at the top got you in people’s memories.
Or maybe, he thought, trying to chivvy himself out of this sudden pool of self-pity, you’ll just end up as crazy old man Templeton, singing to himself in a tree house.
Chapter Thirteen
Zee stopped the car at the end of Deck’s long, meandering driveway, waiting for the gate to slide open. And couldn’t quite suppress a sigh.
“The happiness fairly rolls off of them, doesn’t it?” She heard the almost wistful note in her own voice, didn’t like that it was there, but couldn’t seem to help it.
“It’s obvious they’re crazy about each other,” Jamie said.
“It would be nauseatingly saccharine if I didn’t like them so much.”
“And if you weren’t aware of what they had to fight to get to here.”
“Yes.” Zee edged the car through the gate and out to where she could see both directions. Then she glanced at him. “Back to Millie’s?”
“Yes. Please.”
She wondered if she—or he—would ever start to think of it as his place.
She was pulling into the drive of Aunt Millie’s place before he spoke again.
“Zee?”
She didn’t shut off the engine, because she had no intention of staying any longer than it took to let him out. She knew he would get it. He was many things, but he was not stupid.
“What?”
“If Deck and Kelsey could get to where they are…”
Her breath jammed up in her throat in that way she hated. The way that made it seem as if she’d never take another easy breath. That way that only he seemed able to do to her.
“…do you think we could at least get back to being friends?”
Friends. Of course. She should have known. And she was an idiot—no, worse than an idiot—to think he’d meant anything else. To think, even for an instant, that he might want to go back to what they’d once been to each other. To become again those soul-deep partners in life, the ones who held each other’s secrets, dreams, and hearts. She wasn’t sure she wanted that herself.
Whiskey River Rockstar (Whiskey River Series Book 3) Page 7
