Sawyer cleared his throat and warned Paisley with a look. She turned away and tried to act as though she hadn’t seen him. Sawyer had “advised” her not to date the guys in the band and Clay in particular.
The warning came during her freshman year of high school. She and Sawyer were in the basement, a fresh plate of sugar cookies on the amp and Sawyer tapping his drum sticks against his thigh. Their dad gave permission for Sawyer to use the unfinished basement for band practice as long as he watched Paisley after school. The year she turned fourteen, a whole new set of rules came into play.
“They aren’t bad guys, but they’re a lot older than you.”
“They aren’t that much older. Sheesh. I’ve been hanging around them for four years. I know them just as well as I know you.”
Well, most of them. Nobody knew Clay. He didn’t even hang out with the band at school. He just drifted through the halls in his shredded t-shirts and ripped jeans.
Clay’s choice in clothing never bothered Paisley, it was his empty eyes she stayed up late at night thinking about. The dullness went away when Clay played his guitar and she loved to see his eyes brighten – like watching the sun rise over fresh snow—the energy took her breath away.
“We’re seniors and you’re a freshman. There’s a big difference.”
Paisley walked around the room, going through her pre-practice checklist and ignoring Sawyer. She knew where the guys liked to stand and how tall Amber liked the mic. No matter what she did, the height always needed adjusting.
“Okay?” Sawyer pushed.
Paisley tightened the mic stand hoping to get it to stay in place this time. “You don’t have anything to worry about; it’s not like any of them would ask me out anyway.”
“Who wouldn’t ask you out?” asked Bill as he clomped down the stairs. Jeb, Amber, and Clay, followed right behind. Bill had to duck as his feet touched the floor to miss a low-hanging joist. Paisley smiled. When they started the Iron Stix, the guys used to reach up and brush their fingers against the beam for luck. Amber gave Sawyer a kiss hello before snagging a cookie.
Paisley plugged in Bill’s keyboard, and said, “Sawyer’s worried I’m going to go all Yoko on you guys.”
Bill winked at her. “I’d ask you out to get your cookies, but since you give them away for free ...”
Paisley’s face flushed at his obvious reference to the old saying: Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free. She concentrated on the soundboard while Bill plunked notes to help Amber warm up her voice.
Jeb leaned into his mic. “Test. Test.” His voice echoed off the cement walls.
They talked about throwing up padding to absorb some sound, but Paisley suspected they liked the added volume. Playing in the basement was like singing in the shower.
Jeb pulled away and gave her a thumbs up. “I’d take you out, but Lizzie’s the jealous type.”
Paisley rolled her eyes. His comment was the equivalent of waiting for pigs to fly. “Yeah, like she’d give you the time of day.”
Jeb shoved a cookie in his mouth and chased it down with a swig of soda. “She’s just playing hard to get.”
“You wish.”
Jeb turned to Sawyer, clearly offended. “She’s like our little sister.”
Sawyer tapped the cymbal three times. “Can we just play?”
Paisley waited at the soundboard as Clay plugged in his bass. He hit a few cords and made an adjustment on his amp. A loud squeal echoed off the walls and everyone covered their ears. Paisley ran over and twisted a knob on the black box. The squeal was replaced by grumbling, but no one threw a dirty look at Clay. No one dared. Sawyer tapped on his snare and then twirled his sticks.
Paisley gave Clay a small smile and lifted her shoulders. He leaned in and she could smell the deep scent of men’s body wash; a scent she’d recently found a new interested in. “You’re more than just cookies,” Clay said quietly, brushing his fingers up her arm.
The connection happened so fast Paisley wasn’t sure it happened at all, except that her skin tingled where he’d touched her. She made her way back to the soundboard, wondering if Clay had adjusted his amp so she’d have to come over and fix it. She watched Clay out of the corner of her eye for most of practice. He didn’t act like he’d said a word and she decided the zing was their little secret.
A secret she’d kept to this day.
Paisley absently rubbed her hand up her arm, wondering if he’d thought of her at all since he left town. Sawyer may have had the authority to warn her off the band when she was fourteen, but she wasn’t fourteen anymore. If Clay was coming home, she would gladly chair the welcoming committee.
The crowd thinned out as Clay listened to Amber and Sawyer’s engagement and wedding story, asked about Sawyer’s job as an electrician, and met their kids. Clay’s eyes wandered to Paisley now and again, but Amber and Sawyer’s excitement over seeing their long-lost band-mate was hard to ignore for long.
Peake threw a snowball at his dad. Sawyer gave him a stern look followed by a promise to play later. The kid shrugged and continued packing snow anyway. Paisley admired his perseverance.
“We sent you an invite to the wedding,” said Amber, her lower lip pouting out.
Clay shuffled his feet. “Yeah, I wasn’t making much back then.” He held up both hands as if weighing his options. “Food or bus ticket? But, I wished you guys the best. Although, I’m not sure what you did, Amber, to deserve a drummer for a husband,” he said as he shoved Sawyer. “I guess it’s just bad luck.”
They joked back and forth, but Paisley’s mind was on Clay’s excuse and she wondered what other tough decisions he’d had to make in order to become a success in the music business. Her heart went out to him – alone in a strange city with hardly any money. She would have ached for Snow Valley, especially after getting an invitation to two of her best friends’ wedding.
Sawyer wasn’t sidetracked by the teasing any more than Paisley was. “Was it really that bad?”
“Sometimes.” Clay glanced at Paisley and then back to Sawyer. “But things got better. I’m working in production now. I hope to open my own studio soon.”
“That’s fantastic.” Sawyer smacked him on the back. “We need to get the band together. Bill lives in Boulder, but Jeb took over his dad’s place last year. I’m sure we could set something up. How long are you in town?”
Paisley caught herself leaning closer, hoping he’d say those magic words, “I’m home.”
“I’ve got a break between projects; I should be here at least through Christmas.” Clay looked her way again and this time Paisley turned her back.
Just like she’d thought. They come, they Christmas, they leave. Clay was no different than the rest of the holiday tourists in this town and she had no intention of giving him any more time or thought while he was here.
“Come on Peake, let’s go build a snowman,” she said, offering her hand.
She and Peake spent the next fifteen minutes using the snow piled on the sides of the walkway to build the base.
Amber interrupted their work and informed Peake it was way past his bedtime.
He looked at Paisley and they both groaned in protest as they made their way to the parking lot.
Paisley found herself scanning the area for Clay. When she didn’t find him, her heart drooped like a pathetic Christmas bow.
“Looking for someone?” asked Amber as she struggled to get the stroller through the snow.
“No.” Paisley knew she answered too fast. She also knew Amber would pick up on her defensiveness, so she added, “I just thought he’d say goodbye. You know, for old times’ sake.”
“His dad called and needed help getting the cows in. They busted through a fence when they heard the cannon.”
“Oh. Well, I guess that’s that.” Paisley reached down and grabbed the front of the stroller to help lift it over the curb.
Amber pressed her lips together as she dug in, her high-heel boots, though totally stylin�
��, weren’t made for wrestling a stroller through the Montana snowpack. “Sawyer’s trying to set up a reunion of sorts. Wouldn’t that be a kick?”
“Yep.” Paisley concentrated on traffic. She purposely didn’t ask questions and Amber was too busy gripping the stroller so she didn’t slip to press the topic.
Between the two of them, they managed to wrangle their way to Amber and Sawyer’s SUV. Sawyer arrived a few minutes later as they strapped Journey into the car seat. Peake slept on his shoulder.
Once the kids were buckled in, Paisley dashed down the street to her car. It was too darn cold to stand around chatting without a fire barrel nearby.
Clay’s disappearance didn’t stop Paisley from thinking about his easy smile and sultry eyes. She could dismiss his first wave as his attempt to say hi to an old friend. The second smile, the one that practically melted the snow, was harder to write off. Instead of being embarrassed when their eyes met, he looked, well ... interested ... and flirty ... and like someone Paisley would have wanted to spend time with.
She scraped a film of ice off the windshield before getting in the car. Her disappointment that Clay hadn’t asked for her number surfaced as she put the key in the ignition. It’s for the best. She shrugged and turned the key. The heart can only be broken so many times.
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About the Author
Lucy McConnell has always been a reader and a writer. Once caught up in writing a story, she disappears into a cave until the first draft is done. She writes fantasy, clean romance, Christian romance, historical fiction, and cookbooks under the name Christina Dymock.
When she’s not writing, you can find her volunteering at the elementary school or the church; shuttling kids to baseball, soccer, basketball, or football, depending on the time of year; skiing with her family; wake boarding; cycling; or curled up with a good book.
You can visit her website and sign up for her newsletter at: http://lucymcconnell.wordpress.com/
The Country Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book 4 Page 24
