Rock Wild (Rock Candy Book 3)

by Virna DePaul

  “I remember feeling that way,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

  “What way?” I felt confused.

  “Excited. Alive. Thrilled to be doing something you love.” He gave a quick snap back and forth of his head and his mouth formed a tight line. “Never mind. I was drifting in memories for a moment there. But enough about me. It’s clear you love baking. That pie? I could actually taste the love in it. Am I wrong?”

  It felt hard to swallow. Sometimes it felt like no one really noticed how much making desserts set my soul on fire. I’d won some blue ribbons here or there in county fairs and people would notice that, and there was no shortage of people clamoring for my baked goods and saying they were the best they’d ever tasted, but no one ever really noticed what making those cakes and pies and everything else did for me. But Corbin had. This stranger who’d come into town to play his bass had seen more in me than people who’d known me my entire life.

  “Aimee?” he asked, waving his hand in front of me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. Got a little lost in space there.”

  “When did you discover baking was your passion? How did you know it made you feel so alive? And where are you going to go with it all?”

  He seemed genuinely interested, and his questions had an almost wistful tone to them, as if he needed to understand. I opened my mouth to tell him about my plans to open my own bake shop when suddenly I got embarrassed.

  Everything about Corbin got to me, and I had to stay strong. The plan had been to show interest in Corbin so Brad would lose interest in me.

  Speaking of Brad… I tried to surreptitiously glance around to see if he was still at Evangeline’s, but Corbin’s body blocked my full view. I cleared my throat. “Actually, it might be time I head home. I just need to check something first.”

  “You mean check if the deputy you were trying to avoid is still here?”

  When my jaw dropped, he laughed.

  “You knew?”

  “That he was the reason you said yes to getting a drink with me? Yeah, I noticed that,” he said, taking a long swig of his beer and winking at me.

  I winced. “He wants me to be his date to his sister’s wedding.”

  “So you flirted with me to keep from telling him no.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, swallowing. “That wasn’t very nice of me.”

  He shrugged. “No worries. He’s gone now, and I wanted to talk to you anyway. And despite your ‘I don’t date musicians’ declaration, I think you wanted to talk to me, too.”

  I sat there in stunned silence, thumbing the label on my unfinished beer. Corbin was just too tempting and that could lead to trouble, and someone in the Bodine family had to be sensible. Lord knew my uncle, with his crazy drive to play zydeco day in and day out, and my mother, with her fan-girl fantasies that resulted in one failed marriage after another, sure weren’t.

  Despite my serious musings, I couldn’t help the sudden yawn that overtook me faster than I could whip my hand up to cover my mouth.

  “Listen, beautiful lady,” Corbin said, leaning in closer to me. “I’d love to continue this conversation, but you’re exhausted. You should have gone home a few hours back. How about I put my number into your phone and you text me when you wake up in the morning?”

  I stared at him, wanting to do just that, but then reason prevailed and I slowly shook my head. “I appreciate you having a drink with me even knowing why I agreed to it, Corbin, but you’re only going to be here a short time and I… I really don’t date musicians, and before you say you didn’t ask me out, I…well, I just don’t think it would be a good idea for us to talk or see each other. Outside of you playing in the bar while you’re here, I mean.”

  Disappointment flickered in Corbin’s eyes before he nodded. “Okay. No offense taken. Sweet dreams, sweet Aimee.”

  I gulped, then straightened and said, “Good night, Corbin.” Regret was a lead weight in my chest as I turned and headed back into the kitchen, but once again I told myself it was for the best. It might not feel good in the moment to be doing the right thing, but it would pay off in the end. I had dreams, dreams that were on the brink of coming true, and I couldn’t jeopardize them because of my attraction to Corbin.

  No matter how much I wished things could be different.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Corbin

  After Aimee left, I headed outside to help Daniel and Cindy pack up the van. Now, the balmy night air surrounded me, silent except for the low croak of frogs and hum of crickets. I leaned against Daniel’s van, amazed at the night and the excitement that coursed through my body. There was something electrifying about the set I’d done, and something even more electrifying about Aimee.

  Everything about her had hit me hard, right from the start. Her sexy ass in those too-short cutoffs, the way her dark brown curls danced around her shoulders, the way she deftly handled the old man who’d grabbed her ass…the way her green-grey eyes sparkled under the light and how she smelled of chocolate.

  She’d triggered awake whatever had lain dormant inside of me for so long.

  So had the music. Zydeco. So raucous and unpolished with its blaring accordion and weird, giant wearable washboard and even a brass section. It was so different from rock ’n roll and would never sell out giant stadiums but, then again, maybe that was the point. I was used to studios and recordings, to getting producers to edit and tweak every tiny bit of the reel. Focus testing. Agents. It wasn’t at all how things had started out. Still, it was fun as hell and the women had been great, but it was removed from reality, from the real blood, sweat and tears of music. This was everything I’d loved about playing bass to begin with, and I was glad to reconnect with it.

  The woman, the music, even this small town out in the middle of nowhere, had me more energized than even the world tour with Point Break. Was it because Pontmaison reminded me of my hometown and my youth? I didn’t tend to give much thought to the past—too much bad shit had occurred back in Hallvard Hill, Minnesota, for me to want to revisit my youth. But until things had gone south, times had been good.

  Unfortunately, as my mind tended to do, it immediately focused on the bad. Suddenly I was remembering the night my first serious girlfriend Kara and I had snuck away from a community party and hid out under the heavy table laden with casseroles, pies, cakes, and drinks. The long white tablecloth had hidden us from view, and we’d practiced kissing for the first time. Six years later, though, that kiss had led to one of the unhealthiest relationships of my life. To a woman who had been so needy, she’d done anything to hold my attention, even…

  No. I wouldn’t go there. Not tonight. Not after feeling so alive, so awake again. Tonight was about remembering the music and how amazing just talking to Aimee had felt. Despite her resolve to keep me at arm’s length, and despite the fact I’d given the appearance of good-naturedly accepting her decision, I wasn’t sure I could actually do that. I wanted to see more of her. Talk to her. Taste more of her sweet treats. And just as I’d implied earlier, I wasn’t talking about her baking.

  Yet for Aimee’s sake, I was trying to do the right thing. It was clear she wasn’t interested in a short term hook up, at least not with a musician, and it didn’t seem right to push myself into her life knowing in a week I’d just be walking out of it again

  “Done,” Cindy said, bringing me out of my reverie as she slammed shut the back door to the van.

  “So same time tomorrow?” I asked.

  To my surprise, she shook her head. “We just got word we got a gig in New Orleans. Won’t be back for a week.”

  My gaze flicked back to the roadhouse. “Thought you were sticking around Pontmaison.”

  “This is our home base,” she answered, “but we take work where we can get it. I checked my email while you were talking to Aimee, had one from earlier in the day I hadn’t seen. A friend of ours owns a place we’d played at a few months ago. He wants us again and we really need to take the gigs as
they come. We’d love to have you come with us.”

  I hesitated for a moment before saying, “Uh, do you need me to come with you? Or can I…you know…hang out here while you’re gone?”

  Cindy grinned.

  “Nah,” Cindy responded. “We’ve got a friend who will play bass for us. You hang here for a while. Get to know the town. Get to know Aimee.” She added a wink with the last sentence.

  Daniel, who’d been walking up to us, frowned. “Dat little cher’s my niece, y’all hear?”

  Cindy rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind Daniel here. He tried pulling that same shit with his little sister, Lily, and she rebelled. You’d think he’d learn that Aimee’s a good kid.” Cindy highlighted her point by turning to Daniel and glaring at him. “You can trust her, can’t you?”

  “It’s this possede over her I can’t hardly trust,” he grumbled. “Too much like me is all.” He flashed a glance up at me. “You be here when we get back? Play with us again?”

  “Sure. In fact… ” I hesitated. Thought about Aimee, her reluctance to date a musician, and my own desire to do the right thing by her. Then I thought about how she’d smelled so good, and how her breath had caught anytime I got near her. I wasn’t ready to leave her. And it wasn’t like I had to be back in L.A. until the end of summer. “I’m thinking of staying the summer here in Pontmaison,” I said. “Nowhere else to go, and the music’s good. So are the desserts.”

  Cindy laughed but Daniel frowned at my veiled reference to Aimee. “That lil’ cher is my life,” he growled out. “You hurt her, I’ll break your legs, and that I guarantee,” Daniel said, opting for more clear language than ever before.

  “I won’t hurt her,” I promised. And I wouldn’t. Just because I wouldn’t be staying long didn’t mean Aimee and I couldn’t have fun while I was here. She was an adult and she could make her own choices, as she’d already proven. I’d be clear with her that I wasn’t looking for a relationship and that I’d be headed out of town as soon as summer ended. The only thing I wouldn’t tell her was that I was the bassist for Point Break. I’d had way too many times when women went loopy over a man with fame. Not that I was automatically throwing Aimee into that category—she seem to have some smarts, with her refusing to date musicians—but there was no sense in making a big deal about my fame.

  Daniel grumbled then stomped back inside Evangeline’s. Cindy sighed and leaned against the wall. “Look, I think you and Aimee seemed to have something. I watched her when you were talking at the bar—her eyes lit up like I hadn’t seen since maybe her high school days. And I don’t think it was because you’re such a pretty face, I think it was because there’s something between the two of you. One thing, though,” she added, frown crossing her face, “I’m figuring you didn’t tell her who you really are, because she’d have had you out of Evangeline’s and on your ear in a flash. Aimee might—” Cindy poked me in the chest for added emphasis “—I repeat, she might let you into her life a little bit if she thinks you’re just a guy who plays bass from time to time, but you’ll find every door shut to our Aimee if she finds out you’re a bona fide rock star.”

  I blinked.

  Shit. Caught.

  “You knew?”

  Cindy nodded. “My sister’s fourteen years old. One of those surprise babies you know? Well, she’s got Point Break posters all over the wall. I spotted who you were the minute you came onto stage the other night, but I didn’t say anything because I figured you didn’t want people to know. My thought is that if you had, you’d have been advertising it yourself.”

  “Sometimes it’s easier to be beneath the radar,” I admitted. “I’m not as famous or popular as Tucker and Liam, or even Wes, but I don’t want to get mobbed.”

  Cindy laughed. “This is Pontmaison, honey, don’t worry about it. If it isn’t country or zydeco or blues, they ain’t heard of it. My sis is different but ain’t too many little girls around here to mob you to start. Still, you stay, and I’ll take care of Danny Boy.”

  “I don’t want to put you in a weird place with the head of the band.”

  “Sugah, I’ve been leader of this band for almost ten years. Bodine’s great but he can’t schedule or manage his finances or sometimes remember the right date for shit.”

  I laughed and regarded Cindy with her nose stud and her dyed hair. She seemed like someone who could take care of business. That was for damn sure. “Then maybe I’m actually sad that I won’t get to see that smackdown.”

  “Maybe,” she said, smirking. “So where you staying tonight?”

  Damn. I’d forgotten. I hadn’t looked online yet. “I need to check Airbnb.”

  At that, she laughed so hard she doubled over. “Honey, we don’t have much in the way of internet here, and I can promise you no one’s on Airbnb. You should try Miss Cecily’s place. She always has rooms for rent.”

  “A motel?” I couldn’t remember seeing anything in town when I drove through looking for Evangeline’s.

  “Miss Cecily has the massive old plantation house a hop, step and a jump from here. Looks like it’s right out of Gone with the Wind.”

  “Then it’s haunted. You guarantee,” I added, chuckling as I exaggerated the final word in a terrible attempt at a Cajun accent.

  “Actually, you’re not far off,” she said, shrugging. “Miss Cecily’s always been nice to me and my friends. I’ve never had a complaint with her, but you know how locals are in any town especially down here and how much they love to gossip. They say she’s into voodoo.”

  “You kidding me?”

  “Yankees can say what they want, but the people in Pontmaison are superstitious and the reputation sticks. Hell, it spread over most of Louisiana too. Small state in its own way. But if you’re not bothered by town gossip, Miss Cecily has rooms for rent and they’re massive. It’s quiet, too. And she’s still up. She never goes to sleep until after four in the morning.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Something to do with voodoo?”

  Cindy laughed. “Nah, she just can’t sleep well at night.” She sobered then. “Listen, Corbin, in Pontmaison we have more than our share of people who walk a different path. Because it’s a small town, we notice them more than you would in a big city. We take care of our own. Protect them, really. You stick around, and you might see that for yourself.” She patted me on the arm, then headed back inside Evangeline’s, after Daniel.

  I stared down at my arm where Cindy had patted me like I was family, and pleasure spread through me. I had connections. My family back home, even though I didn’t see them much. My boys in the band. But there was no denying I was feeling welcome in Pontmaison.

  And I was hoping Aimee would welcome more of my attention—in bed and out.

  * * *

  Aimee

  After I finally made it home and washed up, I crashed onto my bed and felt every muscle in my body scream in protest and pain. Today’s work schedule had been insane, but even though my body was sore and aches racked my muscles, my mind wasn’t ready to let me fall asleep just yet. No, my stupid brain was too busy being focused on Corbin. He seemed so familiar. Even now, there was something about him that I couldn’t place. Maybe it was those eyes of his, those large dark brown pools, so like molten chocolate that I could lose myself in them. I loved the delicate lashes around them, as if nature was going out of her way to draw attention to Corbin’s gaze.

  “What in the world are you doing, Aimee?” I muttered to myself in the dark. I’d gotten hot and bothered by some of Uncle Daniel’s guest players before, but my body had never felt as electrified as it did just thinking about Corbin. He was clearly a Yankee and I’d never been out of Louisiana. Hell, I’d rarely been away from home. My family had needed my help too much.

  But it was my time now. Uncle Daniel had promised he’d find a new manager for Evangeline’s once I opened my bake shop. In just a month, my life would change dramatically.

  All the more reason to enjoy a little time with Corbin, for as long as he’s he
re.

  There was that sneaky voice in my head, encouraging me to go for it with Corbin. For once, to my surprise, the negative counterpoint to that voice was silent.

  Would getting to know Corbin a little better, whatever that looked like, be so bad? After all, I wasn’t my mother, which meant I didn’t harbor any fantasies that hooking myself to a musician was going to result in any kind of permanent commitment or true love. Didn’t that mean I could spend time with Corbin, have fun with him while he was here this week, and walk away unscathed?

  My body tingled in all the right places at the thought of all the fun Corbin and I could have together. I wanted more of those tingles and even if Corbin wasn’t here with me, right here and now…

  Slipping off my panties and t-shirt, I then laid back down and kicked the covers off. I licked both index fingers, wetting them just a bit. My left hand found its way to my left nipple, pinching and teasing it until it raised into a rigid peak. Closing my eyes, I imagined my hand was Corbin’s hand, that it was his fingers—made callused by years of bass playing—seeking out my skin and playing with my breast. My right hand went lower, trailing first over the valley of my abdomen, dipping into the belly button. I allowed myself a barely-there moan, mindful that I wasn’t alone in the house.

  Even as my left hand tempted and teased both nipples now, my right moved further south, caressing the soft thatch of hair at the apex of my thighs, running through the curls there. Then I opened up my knees and let my fingers play over the soft, sensitized skin of my labia. Tonight, like every time I did this, I was alone. But in my mind’s eye, Corbin was with me. It was his hand caressing my body, his scent enveloping me, and those piercing brown eyes, the ones that seemed to see seamlessly through my bullshit, staring directly into my soul.

  Then I spread myself, my fingers finding my clit and pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves. I hissed and bit my lip, again painfully aware that I couldn’t make a scene, couldn’t shout out. No one could know what I was doing. Still, I wished my fingers were as thick and long as Corbin’s, that they felt the same as his had just touching the back of my hand or my shoulder at the bar tonight. I desperately wished he was the one pressing his thumb now tightly against my clit and now moving it quickly in a semicircle, changing up the rhythm but always keeping a frantic pace.