She stood up. Turned.
Jamie.
“How did you find me?”
“True. He said you might be here.”
“Remind me to thank him,” she said, fighting to keep a sour note out of her voice. The last person she wanted to see when she was trying to make sense of this huge knot of feelings was the guy at the heart of it all. Especially when she was trying to forget that there were likely thousands just like Ms. L.A. who would jump him instantly given the slightest encouragement. Which he thankfully hadn’t given. But then he wouldn’t, not with her standing right there. Jamie had too much class for that.
Just watching him walk toward her was putting her pulse in overdrive. How did he do that, move like that? Like he was some barely leashed wild thing?
The same way he slips that leash on stage and enthralls thousands.
He reached the bench. Only then did she realize she’d actually sunk back down on it. She studied the grain of the wood, as if all the answers were somehow hidden there, if only she could find them.
“Your brother’s not mad at me,” he said.
“No. He never was. He loves you, too.”
Something flashed in those vivid green eyes, as if he was wondering exactly how she’d meant that “too.”
Both ways. And more importantly, present tense.
She couldn’t deny it any longer. Jamie Templeton had ever owned her heart, and hard as it was to face, he apparently still did.
He was very quiet for a moment. Then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, staring out at the river. “Not a day went by, not one, that I didn’t wish you were with me.”
Something tightened inside her at the clearly heartfelt and honest declaration. “I…wanted to be. But I couldn’t.”
“I know. You love this place and didn’t want to leave. And couldn’t leave your brother. Not then.”
“It wasn’t just that.” If he could be this honest, didn’t she owe him the same? “I couldn’t handle the…glare. All the focus, the fuss, being the center of the storm as it were. And being with you, in that world…that’s what it meant.”
His brow furrowed, but then he nodded. “You always were that rare person, who didn’t want to be the center of attention.”
Of course he understood. Jamie always understood. “I’d had enough of it as the local object of pity, after the accident.” She gave him the best smile she could manage. “You were much better at handling that than I was.”
“That’s because I hid out most of the time. You kept right on with your life. I avoided mine, except for you and Aunt Millie.”
“And look what came of that,” she said softly. “The most wonderful, beautiful music.”
His eyes went shuttered in the instant before he looked away, went back to staring at the river. As if he’d slammed a door. She almost gaped at him, so sudden and definite had it been.
“Jamie?”
It was a moment before he spoke again. “I’ve truly missed this place,” he said. “I think I finally understand a little of what you felt, back then. Aunt Millie told me I would, when I’d been away long enough.”
“She said that?”
“She did,” he said, finally looking at her again, “and that we were meant to be.”
Zee blinked. “What?”
He laughed, whatever had hit him so hard a moment ago gone now. Or so tightly under wraps she couldn’t see it. “Exactly what I said. She only answered that was for us to figure out.”
Zee laughed in turn—she couldn’t help it. “Now if that isn’t a typical Aunt Millie answer!”
“She was one of a kind,” he said softly.
“And we were all luckier for it,” she said.
“Yes. The best thing is, she felt the same way.”
And there, sitting on the bench built by her brother on the river they both loved, they were as close as they’d ever been. And she vowed that no matter what else happened or didn’t, this, at least, they would keep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
We were meant to be.
The knock on the office door startled Zee out of her contemplations. She’d been working on the spreadsheets for the last quarter, which she hated anyway, so it hadn’t taken much to nudge her into a reverie.
She saved what little she’d accomplished and closed the program before getting up and heading to the outside door True had installed once they’d realized they had a going concern here with Mahan Services.
She pulled open the door and for a moment just stared. “Boots?”
The man gave her a crooked smile. She’d known him almost as long as Jamie had; the bass player out of Austin had been with Jamie almost since the beginning of the music, and together they had built the success that was Scorpions On Top.
She threw her arms around him in a fierce hug. “When did you get here? Are you staying? How are you? I’m so sorry about Derek.”
Boots nodded, then answered her in order, something she remembered now he’d always done, and it made her smile. “Just got in, took an early flight out of L.A., heading back tomorrow. I’m okay. It sucked, that’s for sure. We knew he had a problem, but not that bad. Hit Jamie hard, because he felt like he should have known, but Derek hid it pretty well.”
So Jamie felt…what, responsible? Was that what that undertone of harsh sadness she’d been sensing was? That sense of loss even beyond that of a friend?
“Have you seen him yet?”
“That’s why I’m here. I wasn’t sure where he was staying. And I brought some stuff for him, from his lawyer in L.A.”
“Lawyer?”
“Business paperwork, mostly. I figured if anybody’d know where he was, you would.”
She wasn’t sure how to interpret that, so didn’t even try. “He’s out at Millie’s place.”
Boots suddenly smiled. “Shoulda known.” He held up the manila envelope in his hand. “That’s what some of this is about, the other Millie’s Place.”
“The what?”
“You know, the hospice thing.”
She blinked. Boots’ expression slowly changed. “He didn’t tell you?”
“We’ve been busy…with other things. What?”
“He’s setting up a hospice support foundation in her name. Said if it hadn’t been for them she would have died in the hospital in Austin instead of here at home, and she would have hated that.”
“Jamie’s…doing that?”
“I figured he would have told you, since you and his aunt were so close.”
“I guess we haven’t gotten to that yet.” Her mouth quirked. “It’s been a little tense until yesterday.”
“Oh.” Boots looked as if he truly did not want to know about that. She didn’t blame him. “Anyway, he’s put a big chunk of money into it. The guys think he’s crazy, but then they live higher than we do,” Boots finished with a grin.
Her brow furrowed. “Just how much did he put into it?”
“A lot, that’s all I know. He’s going to be living lean for a bit, but he was determined.” He hastened to add, “He’ll be okay. He was always smart about the money, once it started coming in. This was just a big chunk all at once.”
She reminded him how to get to Millie’s, and after he’d gone she stood there thinking for a long, silent moment.
He’d felt responsible for Derek.
He was funding the people who had helped Aunt Millie.
Maybe Jamie Templeton hadn’t changed all that much after all.
*
He could do this.
For the first time since he’d arrived, Jamie felt as if he could really do this. He could build—or rebuild—his life here and be…if not happy, at least content. He was sure the gnawing would start, the pull, but he’d get past that.
He had to. He would. He just didn’t know how long it would take. How many times did it take for the moth to learn to avoid the flame?
Enough to fry him until he can no longer fly.
&nb
sp; He had to admit, Boots showing up like that had been a blow. Not that he wasn’t happy to see his old friend, but Boots was inextricably tied up with the band and the music and it stabbed at him. If he’d stayed much longer the question would have been asked, and that would have sliced him to ribbons.
But he’d had a plane to catch and, to Jamie’s surprise, he said he had someone to get back to.
“Lynn,” he had said, watching Jamie warily.
Jamie placed the woman quickly as one of the fans who had avoided the craziness, had come for the music, more importantly understood the music. She was attractive, but quietly, and didn’t work on seeming anything other than what she was.
“Think I’m crazy?”
“Hell, no. She’s a great lady. One of the ones who really got it.”
“Yeah. Took me a while to convince her. She thinks she’s too old for me.”
Jamie laughed. “Good, maybe she’ll keep you in line.”
Relieved then, Boots had smiled. “She sends her best, by the way.”
“Back at her,” Jamie said, and when Boots had gone a few minutes later Jamie had been left with a much easier feeling about his old friend. It had gotten him through a good hour of work without that nagging tightness inside.
Now he looked at the area on the roof True had patched. He’d said it hadn’t been bad enough to rot anything underneath, and it looked thoroughly dry now. The only thing left up here was to replace the flashing around the chimney. He’d just about have time to do that this afternoon before it got dark. He’d already picked up the supplies from the list True had given him. He got to his feet, made sure of his balance on the slope of the roof, and turned to head back to the ladder.
The ladder was gone.
He blinked. Walked to the edge. Stood there for a moment. Looked around. Then spotted the answer, a slice of green fender on the other side of the house. He must have been too intent to notice her approach.
Or you had your head too deep in a hole. Again.
But he grinned; it was so like the Zee of old, the mischievous girl who had always done things like this.
He sat down, got a grip on the edge of the roof, and swung over. From there it was a drop of only a couple of feet or so. He found her grinning back at him when he landed and turned.
“Up to your old tricks, I see.”
“Just wanted to see if you were still up to it. And,” she added, “I brought lunch.”
“In that case, all is forgiven.”
For a moment something flickered under the cheerful demeanor, and he wondered if it was one of the demons he hoped they’d vanquished yesterday. But it was gone too quickly to even put a name to.
Besides, she cared enough to bring him lunch, and that made him smile. She’d always cared.
Would she still, if she knew?
He knew the answer to that, because even before he’d discovered his life’s passion, she’d cared. But she also loved the music that was so much a part of him. So maybe she’d care, but it would be…different.
“Where to?” he asked, looking at the big bag she held, from the diner in town. “The kitchen’s not ready yet.” He thought he could smell melted cheese and onions, and his stomach was already growling. She knew him, did this girl with the sassy hair and the big blue eyes.
“The tree house?” she suggested, startling him. But she clearly meant it. She really had let it go. And she probably meant this to prove it to him.
Moments later they were in the little space where they had spent so many hours as two lost children in an upended world, and then years later so many nights as voracious young lovers who felt as if they’d reached a place that had been inevitable.
He was on his third sizeable bite of the patty melt she’d brought when she said, “When were you going to tell me?”
He froze. His stomach knotted, threatened to send the food on a quick reverse course. How did she know? Sure, this was Zee, who’d once known him better than anyone on earth, but he’d learned a lot in the last seven years about hiding. Nobody had suspected, not even Boots. Or had he? Had he seen past the façade, and now told her? Was his arrival and her question too much to be coincidental?
He wanted to run but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even think. Then the urge to curl up in a ball and hide from those eyes of hers almost overwhelmed him. He nearly shivered under the pressure.
“It’s a beautiful, wonderful thing to do in her name,” she said softly. “Why would you want to hide it?”
That shocked his brain back to life, but he still could only stare at her as he tried to understand.
“She would be so proud, Jamie, that you’re helping the people who helped her.”
Millie’s Place. God, she was talking about Millie’s Place. Boots must have told her.
“Oh.” Well, that sounded stupid enough.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was…distracted.”
“Oh?”
Funny how her single syllable sounded so much more mindful than his had. “And it isn’t final yet, until those papers are done.”
“It’s still a wonderful thing. Proof that you really are still you.”
That snapped him out of it. “Who else did you think I would be?”
“The careless, high-living guy I was afraid you’d turn into. I wasn’t,” she added in a rueful tone, “thinking at all at the time.” That was so much the old Zee he smiled. It might take a while, but when she got over it, she got over it. “I’m thinking now, though,” she added softly.
“Thinking what?”
“That I might like the distracted part.”
He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but there had always been truth between them and so he did.
“I’ve been distracted since you laid that lip-lock on me right there on Main Street.”
“I’m sure that had nothing to do with it,” she said, but she was smiling. In fact, she was looking at him…like she used to.
“How can you be sure?” It came out a little scratchy, because his throat had tightened up again.
“Good point,” she said. “It might bear further testing.”
He sucked in a deep breath. Hoped desperately that he would need it. “That is up to you.”
“I am curious.”
I’m not. Because I already know.
Her mouth merely brushed his at first. Then her soft, sweet lips took his tentatively. Just as the fire lit in him, the fire only she could ever set off, she made a tiny sound and leaned in.
He needed every bit of that breath.
Chapter Twenty-Six
She hadn’t expected it to be the same as when they’d begun, all those years ago. How could it be, after all this time?
And she had convinced herself the jolt she’d gotten out there on Main Street had been…something else. Told herself it was only that she hadn’t kissed a man in a while.
But this wasn’t even the same as that kiss out in public.
It was much, much more.
They had been kids, before. Experimenting, learning, having chosen the only person either of them could envision as a partner in this new, heated exploration. And teenage love with hormones running high had been hot, fast, and beyond memorable.
But they were adults now, so what was the explanation for the instant inferno they seemed to kindle together?
…we were meant to be.
Aunt Millie’s words, spoken in that voice of his, beautiful even when he wasn’t singing, echoed in her head. Like the refrain of a Scorpions song, it repeated. Meant to be, meant to be, meant to be…
And then she couldn’t hear anything, not even her own thoughts as his tongue swept over her lips and she parted them for him. All she knew was how right it felt. This was Jamie, her Jamie, and here in this place, where they had discovered what pleasure could be had, they were together again.
It was as if they had never been apart, and yet it was different. Powerful in a different sort of way. She had the odd
thought it was at least in part because this wasn’t inevitable, as it had seemed back then. This was by conscious, adult choice, and that somehow made a difference.
She couldn’t get enough of the taste of him, the feel of him. And only now did she realize they were on the floor of the tree house, bodies pressed together as if no time at all had passed, as if they were still those teenagers so wild they couldn’t wait. In that moment that’s what she felt like, that if she didn’t have him, all of him, in the next minute she would die. Her body was already primed, ready, and she could feel he was, too.
He broke the kiss. Pulled back. She smothered a moan of protest. She knew it wasn’t because he hadn’t been into it because she could hear the harshness of his rapid breathing echoing her own, could feel the rigidness of his erection pressed against her.
“Zee,” he whispered.
“You stopped,” she pointed out unnecessarily.
“I…had to.”
“Why?” She sounded plaintive even to her own ears.
He shifted his hands, which had slid down to her waist at some point, to his favorite spot just above the swell of her hips. He let them linger for a moment, then reluctantly pulled away. Then he cupped her face, turned her so that she was looking straight at him.
“Because I have to know if you want to go where we’re headed if we don’t stop.”
She was slow to react, so lost was she in those green eyes. Why had she never realized that was exactly why she’d bought her car?
“Don’t you?” she asked, feeling a bit sluggish.
“More than I have words for,” he said, sounding fervent.
Her brows furrowed as she tried to bank the heat he’d roused in her and think. “Then what?”
“I’ve only been back two weeks. I’m not that guy you were afraid I’d become, but…what if I really have changed?”
His words seemed to have something more behind their surface, but she couldn’t put a name to it. “Your heart hasn’t changed. I know that now.”
“I want this. I want you, us. God, I want it. But even more than that, I don’t want us to be…like we were. Like we’ve been since I left. I don’t want you mad at me again, Zee.”
Whiskey River Rockstar (Whiskey River Series Book 3) Page 14
