by Leigh Landry
So they worked together in silence, tearing down her kit and carrying it to her trunk. When everything was loaded, she was the one who broke the silence.
“So, I’ll meet you at your place?” Her voice faltered at the words your place. “Since you have the piano. Or do you want to go to a coffee shop or something and just work on lyrics today?”
He gave her a smile, putting in as much effort as he could to ensure it was open and inviting but relaxed. He probably looked like the Joker. “I have a better idea.”
“Somewhere else?”
“We can work later. Wherever you want. I’ve got something fun in mind first.”
Kelsey recoiled slightly. “Eric, I don’t know. I don’t want to give you the wrong idea right now.”
He tried to hide his disappointment. Still, even if she wasn’t ready to move forward with him, they needed this. “There’s been so much tension between us lately, so I want to fix that. I want to do something fun and relax so we can get back to being friends and work on this song. It’s never gonna come out right if we’re…” He waved his hands between them. “Like this.”
She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and stared at him for a few seconds. It was the longest they’d made eye contact in weeks. Maybe months. He wanted to hold her gaze for as long as it took for her to believe him. To believe in him again.
Her strong shoulders released some of their tension. “What did you have in mind?”
His grin widened, and now he was sure he looked like the Joker. But he didn’t care. He was going to hang out with Kelsey. They were going to chill and have a good time and talk about things that weren’t them, and he was going to get back on the right track with her. He didn’t give a damn what his face looked like.
“It’s a surprise.”
* * * * *
Kelsey wondered where on earth Eric could be taking her. She was hesitant to be alone with him like this, but she wasn’t in a hurry to be in a room alone with him to write music either. A year ago, she’d have loved this whole process, but writing with Eric now was…complicated. He was right. A break and some fun would probably do them both good.
Still, she had no idea where they were going. They’d already eaten at the gig, and it was the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, so probably not food-related. But the gig had been way out in the next town, and Eric was taking side roads instead of getting on the highway. They passed the movie theater. The batting cages they’d been to a few times were in the opposite direction. What the heck kind of fun were they going to have out here?
They turned onto a side road, and when she spotted the metal building on the right, her stomach sank to her toes then bounced back up to her throat like it was tied to a bungee cord.
No.
No, no, no.
Eric pulled into the tiny gravel parking lot in front of a little patio with cypress picnic tables. A few people hung around outside, enjoying the weekend sunshine and fresh air, while a couple were having a smoke off to the side.
Shit.
“Surprised?”
Kelsey swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “Yup. Definitely surprised.”
“I know how much you love tours. And I remember how you said you’d never been on a brewery tour.” Eric looked like an expectant cat who’d just dropped a dead mouse at her feet. A happy cat. A really handsome cat. But no matter how much she wanted to pet him and tell him he was a good boy, he was still a cat with a dead mouse.
“Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?”
She got out of the car, and he grabbed his Panama from the back seat. He positioned it over his short hair with the high fade, and the cream color of the hat popped against his dark skin and the deep navy of his linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“I’m sorry.” Confusion blanketed his face. “Was this a bad idea?”
“No.” She shook her head and stalled. She couldn’t think of a single reason on the fly to get herself out of this situation. “It was a really thoughtful idea. I’m just…I’m surprised you remembered that.”
She racked her brain trying to come up with a reason why she didn’t want to be here anymore. And really, it was a great idea. She loved facility tours like this. But the tour itself wasn’t what she was dreading. The real terror was the part where she’d have to explain why she didn’t want to test out microbrews with him.
Eric tilted his head, now taking on more of a puppy vibe than a cat. “Of course I remembered. I remember everything.”
“There was a lot of not-fun stuff to remember.” Shit. She didn’t mean to blurt that out.
Before Eric and after a childhood of being bounced from family to family, she’d wondered if she’d ever feel like she was truly wanted, and her fear of disappointment and rejection drove her to keep everyone at a distance. But Eric had changed that. She’d let him in, and he’d showered her with love and made her feel safe, secure, wanted.
And then he took all of that away.
“I know,” he said.
You could have taken a photo of his anguished eyes and crestfallen face right then and there and slapped a copy of it next to the word “guilty” in the dictionary. And really, she didn’t mean to make him feel bad. It’s just that she didn’t want any revisionist history between them. Sure, they could be friends. Or whatever. But there was no painting over the fact that their history wasn’t all fun and games.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I do appreciate that you remembered.” And she did. She appreciated it more than she could let even herself acknowledge. Because acknowledging how much that meant to her opened the door for more appreciation. And there was a lot to appreciate when Eric was around.
“I’d better sign us in before they start. I knew I was cutting it close, and this is the last tour of the day.”
While she watched his long legs carry him forward, she felt that old familiar flutter in her chest. The one that led to nothing good.
Okay, that was a complete lie. There had been so much good between them. That’s why everything else had hurt so damn much. That’s why the idea of a fun afternoon with Eric was so damn appealing.
And so utterly terrifying.
* * * * *
Kelsey stood close to Eric and stared up at the giant fermentation tank, while the tour guide answered a question about their use of dry hops. Even after a long day in the sun and with the wind blowing in through the open warehouse door behind them and the yeasty foam escaping into a bucket beside Eric’s foot, she could still smell his cologne. Spicy and clean. Eric’s scent.
Her mind went to places it shouldn’t as she felt her body drawn to his. All she wanted to do was step just a little closer, wrap her arm around his, and rest her head against his shoulder.
Instead, she took a step away and refocused her attention on the guide, who was now motioning for them to follow him to the brewing tanks around the corner.
“Want a taste?” Eric held out his glass. “This is the new one they just put out today.”
She’d managed to avoid ordering a beer to drink on the tour by claiming she’d gotten too much sun during their gig. For once, being pale as a ghost had a payoff.
“No thanks. Getting a headache.”
His smile faded, and concern settled into his brow. “I’m sorry. This was a bad idea.”
She shook her head adamantly. Then, without thinking, she did slip her arm around his. “No, really. It was a great idea. This is all fascinating.”
He looked down at her hand gripping his arm. Kelsey began to pull away, but he put a reassuring hand on hers, wrapping his long, rough fingers over top.
Together, they followed the heavily bearded man still talking about beer, and as interesting as it had been up until now, Kelsey could barely concentrate on a word he said. They finished the tour and everyone gathered back in the taproom.
Eric put his empty glass on the counter and gestured at the register. “Still not in the mood for anything?”
She glanc
ed at the chalkboard menus on the wall and wished they were standing here a few months ago. She’d have loved to try that new brew with the tart cherry, strawberry, and cranberry. It sounded perfect for spring. But that wasn’t an option for her. She’d been feeling better the last couple days, like maybe she’d turned a corner with this whole morning sickness thing, or it was at least isolated to mornings now. Unfortunately, feeling better only meant she really wanted that beer.
“I’m gonna pass. I don’t want this headache to turn into something worse.” Saved by a history of migraines. Who knew pregnancy would make her grateful for pale, sunburn-prone skin and debilitating headaches?
“I’m sorry. We should go if you aren’t feeling well.”
She looked around the noisy, crowded taproom and actually felt disappointed. She wasn’t going to drink, but, to her surprise, she didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want this afternoon with Eric to end. “Actually, could we sit outside for a bit? You should get something, though. I don’t mind.”
He paused and looked back at the register, then put a hand on her lower back, sending tingles up her spine. That gesture used to be so familiar and comforting, but she’d long forgotten the soothing yet invigorating feel of it.
They sat across from each other on one of the picnic benches in the shade of a colorful umbrella. He removed his dark, metal-rimmed sunglasses from the brim of his hat and placed them over his eyes, creating a barrier to his emotions. He was fun and easygoing and everyone loved him. But Kelsey could always see the real Eric in his eyes.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long day. I guess I’m tired from the gig. It’s the sun, I guess.”
“Yeah, you got a little color in your cheeks today.” He grinned. “I can see a few extra freckles.”
She felt herself blush and was thankful for that extra color to hide it. She looked down at the table and picked at the edge of the wood.
“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to make you self-conscious or anything. It’s cute.”
With her head still aimed downward, she raised her eyes to give him a look.
He laughed, that deep soothing baritone that set her insides on fire like no other sound could. “Okay, fine. I won’t talk about how cute you are anymore. Promise.”
She stifled her own laugh, but felt herself relaxing. As much as she didn’t want to welcome any compliments from Eric, she also couldn’t help having a good time with him.
It had been so easy to fall for him. Again and again and again. Every time. No matter how different they were. No matter how different their backgrounds were. They always seemed to fit somehow.
And maybe those differences were exactly why she fell so hard for him. Maybe he and his solid family, with their loving bonds and deep connections, were exactly what was so shiny and attractive to her. Even if she couldn’t imagine letting herself get pulled into something like that, because those kinds of connections made the risk too great. They made the inevitable letdown that much harder.
If only she’d remembered that and stayed away from Eric in the first place.
Still, even if they never got back together, even if she never got to spend another moment with him after this, she couldn’t regret one single second. Her time with him had all been worth it.
“You ready to get to work?” she asked.
He let out a tiny sigh of disappointment. No one else would have noticed, but she knew his movements well enough to catch it.
“Sure.” He stood from the picnic table and held out a hand to help her up. “You excited to show off those self-proclaimed crappy lyrics?”
“Crappy right now or crappy an hour from now,” she said with a smile as she took his hand and stood. “Let’s get this crap show on the road.”
He laughed again, and her heart ached over how much she’d missed being the one to make him laugh.
They walked together toward his van. Within a few steps, she felt his hand once more against her lower back, and those welcome tingles ran up her spine again. A few steps later, he removed his hand and dug his keys out of his front pocket, leaving Kelsey’s back cold and the rest of her desperate for more of his touch.
By the time they reached his van, her brain was once again second-guessing all of her carefully laid-out plans. Doubting her doubts.
Kelsey climbed into the front seat. She had a fifteen-minute ride back to her car, then another fifteen minutes to Eric’s house. Hopefully that would be enough time to put her brain back in check. And the rest of her.
Chapter Six
Eric straddled the piano bench beside Kelsey and watched as she flipped through the pages of a purple notebook. When she found the right page, she bit her lip nervously. It was adorable, and he felt privileged any time he got to see her vulnerable this way. It wasn’t a side of her that she let many people glimpse.
As cute as she was biting her lip all shy like that, he wished she wouldn’t worry so much. Whatever she wrote was amazing. He had no doubt. And whatever she shared was safe with him. Always. He’d never laugh or criticize or judge any creation of hers.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Kelsey read a few lines of the first verse while she patted the driving waltz rhythm on her leg. She paused here and there, noting that she needed to change up a few words to get the beats right. The song detailed a Mardi Gras ball, much like the one they’d played at last month. The easygoing lyrics painted a beautiful picture of the glitz and laughter of the event, but the honesty of those words also portrayed a darker undercurrent of loss and pain and longing. He didn’t dare to hope that longing was for him.
She paused the patting on her leg, but didn’t look up from her notebook. When she continued a few seconds later, her voice quivered, but somehow she plowed through her fear and read the chorus.
More than a dance floor between us,
years of pain repeating.
But your smile as always
sweet as a strawberry harvest.
Oh the expanse between us
brings the truth in clearer.
You're not mine.
You're not mine.
Once she finished reading that chorus, she exhaled deeply, her eyes still glued to the page. As tough and stoic as she was about everything else, she was still anxious when it came to her writing. She needed to be liked and accepted, to have that praise and encouragement she’d missed out on as a kid. He wished there was some way he could heal those wounds for her.
But something else was going on with her now, too. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something she couldn’t blame on too much sun that afternoon.
She was more serious. More deliberate. More…everything.
And she wasn’t ready to open up to him about whatever was going on with her. He hadn’t earned that yet. She wasn’t pushing him away anymore, which was a start. The start of long road he planned on continuing down.
Losing her…losing the pregnancy…losing the illusion of a life together had nearly destroyed him. They had stopped being careful. They were talking about marriage. Kids had always been in their talks about the future anyway. They’d just stopped worrying about it. He had stopped worrying about everything when they were together, because everything felt right when he was with her. And when she’d gotten pregnant, they didn’t even know how much they should have worried.
He’d handled it all so horribly, and yet here she was, looking expectantly at him, waiting for his approval. He didn’t deserve it.
But he was going to work his damnedest to deserve her from now on. And that began with taking things slow. Making Kelsey feel safe. No matter how much he wanted to be close to her, he had to let her take the lead here. Or at least give him very clear signals.
“That’s beautiful, Kel.”
“Stop, I’m serious,” she said. “What do you think? Too cheesy? Should I shorten the first verse?”
“I’m serious, too. It’s perfect.
”
“Stop bullshitting me. We have to play this next month.”
“I’m not bullshitting you about this. I’ve never bullshit you about anything. And I swear I never will.”
She flashed him a nervous glance, then averted her eyes again. “Eric, about what you said the other day…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“You didn’t,” she said. “Well, a little. But the point is you just got out of a relationship. I can’t be some rebound for you.” Her shoulders raised and slumped with the deep breath she took, and she stared off absently at the lamp on top of the piano. “Or at least I can’t be that for you again. Not anymore.”
“You were never just a rebound thing for me. Never.” Still straddling the piano bench, he put his hands gently on the sides of her arms to turn her toward him as he looked directly into her misty eyes. “I always wanted more from you. I just never knew how to get back to where we were. To make up for…everything.”
A tear formed in the corner of her eye and slid down the side of her freckled nose. She wiped it away and through sniffles said, “I don’t know if I can forget that. I know I shut down for a while, and I’m partially to blame for pushing you away, but I can’t forget that you left me to go through that pain alone.”
And that was the knife twist.
After the miscarriage, he couldn’t bear the idea of her thinking she was somehow the source of his pain. Everyone—Eric, her doctor, her friends, even his family—reminded her there was nothing she could have done to stop that loss. That it was this awful random thing she couldn’t have prevented. But he could see the edges of guilt behind her eyes. She fought to keep it away, but it was always there, waiting for some crack in her stoicism to take over and bring her to her knees. He didn’t want any part of that, so he’d pulled away. It felt wrong now, but back then he hadn’t known how else to help her.
