Table of Contents
ANYTHING BUT MINE
Dedication
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
LET YOUR VOICE BE HEARD
Lost In Oblivion: Introduction
ANYTHING BUT MINE
WHEN YOU’RE GONE TRILOGY
BOOK ONE
Rock star Logan King has come home to Winchester Falls for the annual Summer Festival. Only this time he's hauling a helluva lot more baggage than a few suitcases and vintage guitars. His closet contains more than the usual skeletons…and if he doesn't keep the door firmly locked, someone might get harmed. The specter of what haunts him forces him to turn away from anything more than one-night-stands.
Until Izzy and her topaz eyes finally give him a reason to try again.
Since moving to town Isabella Grace has found friends and a place to belong for the first time in her life. Running the Summer Festival is the perfect way to show how important her new community is. She just never planned on a whirlwind fling with a man too used to saying goodbye. Or to fall for a guy who has as many secrets as he does hit songs.
Logan is used to protecting himself, but protecting Izzy is all new territory. With everything that matters to him at risk, he refuses to let her get hurt—even if that means he has to walk away. For her own good.
Dedication
To Cari Quinn, who stays up with me into the wee hours of the morning to edit a book even when she has 841 of her own books to worry about. You continually amaze me with your generosity and friendship. You make this crazy writer lifestyle a helluva lot more fun. I wouldn’t want to do this without you.
To Jennifer K, for your all-nighters. You never say no, and I love you all the more for it. I CANNOT WAIT to do the same for you.
To Diane, for your unwavering support and pep talks. You’ve been here since the beginning and I love ya for it!
To Erin, you are always there for me, The Wenches, and Cari. You’re a generous and beautiful soul.
To my family, who gave me the faith and ability to follow my dreams.
Copyright
EBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
ANYTHING BUT MINE
© 2014 Taryn Elliott
ISBN: 978-1-940346-10-6
Cover by Taryn Designs
All Rights Are Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Rainbow Rage Publishing e-book edition: November 2014
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CHAPTER ONE
Fifteen years ago, if someone had told him that a city boy from Los Angeles was going to fall hopelessly in love with a small town in upstate New York, he would have eaten his American Music Award. He stepped down out of his truck and let the wall of heat envelop him. Grass crunched under his flip-flops.
Logan King’s adopted hometown, Winchester Falls, was tinderbox dry. The entire drive up from Manhattan he’d heard warning upon warning for campers to avoid open flames for the holiday upcoming weekend. And the way Main Street was looking, he’d have to agree.
He crossed the road to the park where feather soft green grass teased his ankles. Compared to the rest of the grass lining the sidewalks, it seemed as unnatural as AstroTurf. But even if the county was in a drought, Mayor Darcy would have the park looking like the cover of Small Town Living Magazine.
Of course, the only magazines he noticed had an entirely different sort of cover. Gloss and skin, whom was kissing—or worse—whom, and who was being chased down by the paparazzi.
And that was precisely why he was in town a full week earlier than expected. His manager was on his ass to get in front of the cameras again. Heaven forbid he lose his status in the upper echelon of the paparazzi’s most wanted lists. Or more importantly, that his shots went for anything less than top dollar.
Twitter trending lists, billboards, concert venue banners, and the dreaded magazine covers were his bread and butter. Being a millionaire a hundred times over put him in the spotlight far more than he’d like. Being the lead singer of All the King’s Men made it a prerequisite.
His was there to do a one-on-one with Kim Forrester from Music Life. He’d have preferred to do an interview at his place in the city, but they needed promotion for the Summer Festival. What did it matter that this place was his only respite from the never ending reach of the telephoto lens?
Here, there were no reporters waiting to ambush him around every corner. There were no socialites with twisted agendas. Here he was just Logan in the cabin by the falls. He might be a celebrity, but this town was just as happy to leave him alone as he was to stay MIA.
Now that was going to be tainted because he had a job to do.
And he always did his job.
With a sigh, he followed the voices toward the center of the park. He climbed half-built stairs, dragging his palm over the bare wood. Weathered pine railings strung with fat white lights framed out a huge octagonal gazebo. A stage was built to cap the stairs and make the intricately designed structure the jewel of the Summer Festival. It was his favorite part of the stage.
This place was his one constant. He’d played Madison Square Garden, Red Rocks, every dive club and glossy rehabbed place on the Sunset Strip, but none held as much significance as this little stage.
He looked forward to playing it every summer. No matter how packed his schedule was, he put aside the last weekend in August for the Summer Festival. Always gave back to this town.
But now his stage was covered in cameras and wires. Music Life’s crew took pictures and set up both a stationary camera and guy with a mobile rig. The mayor was holding court with her little underling, Kevin, at the ready.
Don’t panic. Don’t run.
He took another step, his insides cramping at the couple dozen fans herded along the side of the stage. She wasn’t here. This place was too small town for her.
It didn’t stop him from scanning every face.
Someone spotted him and he switched on his social smile. The almost smile that photographed well. The one that sold papers and left shrieking fans in his wake. But it was also a mask. If they knew the real Logan, they’d never leave him alone. The tabloids already salivated over him. If they knew about the little voice that ramped up the panic, they’d descend on him like a pack of wolves.
And he’d never let that happen.
So he kicked up his smile and held a hand out to the producer who crossed the stage to him. His name slid into place as easily as a chord progression. It was his gift and one of the reasons he’d gotten where he was today.
“Steve, thanks so much for making the trip out.”
“I don’t know w
hat brings you back out here every year, Logan. This is a speck of nothing in the middle of the goddamn wilderness.”
His speck, his perfect oasis. The fact that no one understood that made it even more apparent that he would always need Winchester Falls. Whether his net worth was one thousand or one hundred million dollars, it didn’t matter. This was home.
But that was for him and not the world. He slapped Steve’s arm. “I like to give back and the bands I have coming in are more than worth your drive out.”
“Yeah, they are, especially Lindsey York. When is she arriving?”
“Tomorrow.” Logan held up a hand. “I already asked her to do an interview.”
“And that’s why you’re the man.”
Logan resisted the urge not to roll his eyes. Instead, he gave him another genial smile. “Talented, stage presence for days, and pretty—she’s the trifecta.”
“I can’t wait to talk to her.”
And Logan couldn’t wait to throw the spotlight on someone else. But for now he had to put his lead singer face on and make pretty pictures.
∞ ♦ ∞
“Help!”
“Girl help or boy help?” came a shout from the front of the store.
“Since I’m a girl lifting a couch, not sure that’s a fair question,” Isabella Grace grumbled. “Whomever wants to help me lift a couch,” she shot back.
Nichole Wolfe’s pinup lush body filled the doorway. She held up fisted hands and flexed her impressive biceps. “You mean me, then.”
Bella grinned as she lifted one end of the chaise lounge with a grunt.
Nic rushed forward for the other end. Her dark eyes widened at the weight. “Holy crap, is there a body hiding in the cushions?”
“No, this was back when they made furniture last,” Bella said.
“Ya think?” Nic blew a strand of rich walnut hair out of her face. “Where are we putting this?”
“Front of the store. Music section.”
“You suck.”
“I know,” Bella panted. They shuffled into the main space of Between the Lines, where an old baby grand piano had been re-purposed into a bookcase and fastened to the wall. “Over there.”
“Good, because I think I broke my spleen.”
“Doing good, honey,” came a male voice from the registers.
“Shut up, wimp.”
Adam Wolfe laughed. “I have such a strong, strapping wife. I’m so proud.”
“Ass.” But Nic’s lips were twitching into a grin as she set her end of the couch down.
Bella tried to ignore the little twinge that always happened when she was around them. Nic and Adam had grown up together. They were the original boy and girl next door. Instead of growing apart, they went away to college and fell stupid in love. Then they went ahead and assimilated Bella into their spun sugar house of happiness. Somehow they never made her feel like a third wheel.
Well, mostly.
Regardless of the occasional pang of loneliness, they’d become an inseparable unit. So much so, that they’d studied business and literature together and started an online rare book business, Between the Lines. Fast forward ten years and they’d opened a storefront to go with their virtual shelves. Almost a year later, they were actually making a profit in the sleepy little town.
The majority of their sales were still made online. They were becoming the go-to market for hard to find books. Sometimes it was the same edition of Heidi that a client’s mother read to them every night before bed, sometimes it was a first edition Chaucer. Whatever it was, the three of them could find it. But now they also had a place to store the more eclectic books and memorabilia they’d found on their treasure hunts, as Nic liked to call them. And with the odd little shops that dotted the area, Between the Lines was slowly becoming a favorite stop for collectors.
Isabella dragged the pad of her thumb over the spines of the coffee table books of underground musicians she’d found in Australia last winter. She knew all it would take was one request, one special client to do an internet search.
That was how her business worked. And she knew her business. It was as much research as it was luck. And they were finally flush enough for her to take chances with stock.
Nic collapsed on the chaise. “The posters for the festival just got here.”
“Finally.” Bella crossed the room to the checkout desk. A large package took up the wide mahogany and walnut inlaid bookcase. She tore the invoice off the top and scanned the order. Banners, smaller posters for the telephone poles, and a pair of life sized posters were listed.
She tugged out the larger canvas poster and ripped off the plastic protector. She unfolded the massive piece and her breath caught for half a second. Logan King’s black clad shoulders, long corded neck and scruffy jawline filled the space. She flipped up another panel and his startling green eyes seared into hers. He was Hollywood handsome with just enough smile lines and angles to make his face interesting.
“Hard to believe he comes back here every summer to put on a show.”
She dragged her attention from the poster, and Logan King’s far too haunting eyes, to Adam. “We moved in just after the show last year. I heard it was amazing.”
“Between the tourists that come in for the show, and the fans that follow Logan everywhere, their town was going to be inundated with people. Add in the hoard of musicians he lures up here, and we’re the mecca of all things music once a year.”
“Good for business.”
“Hells yeah.” Nic came up to the desk. She and Adam held up a corner each and the rest of the poster unfurled. Most of the poster was white and listed all the musicians that were performing in alternating red and black fonts.
Automatically she scanned for typos and broken type. But her eyes kept drifting to the man in all black. She’d chosen the pose because of how intense he was, but life sized Logan King was a bit disconcerting. He was bathed in a smoky blue that back lit his dark blond hair and lean, muscular body. But the real wow factor was the oddly malevolent shadow curling around him.
He was dangerous and desirable, distant and present at the same time.
The jingle of the front bell snapped her back into the here and now. Bella turned to find Mayor Darcy sailing through the door.
“Well, that’s eye catching.”
Bella smiled. “We just got them in. Aren’t they spectacular?”
Sharon Darcy stood beside her with her arms crossed. “What was wrong with the template from last year’s posters?”
Nothing. If you liked bland, forgettable posters. Bella tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I needed a better resolution picture for the larger posters.”
“I see.”
Bella resisted the urge to sigh. “Thanks, guys. Would you mind folding it up for me?”
“Sure thing,” Nic said.
“Would you like to see the rest?” She didn’t know why she bothered asking. Sharon was already digging into the box for the smaller posters.
“You used the same graphic again?”
Bella flattened her hand down her dress to smooth a wrinkle. “Yes.”
“I like the one we usually use.”
“Sharon, that picture is from three tours ago. We needed an updated picture.” And the one she chose was more interesting, dammit.
“This is a family festival.”
“He’s fully clothed and doing nothing untoward.”
Nic mouthed the word, untoward, with a raised brow from behind Sharon.
Bella bit the inside of her cheek to stop the smile. What was it about this woman that made the Pride and Prejudice come out of her? Oh right, the all-white suit that the mayor wore like a nun’s habit might be part of it.
Sharon made a neat stack and placed the posters back in the box. “Fine. This will probably bring some of the younger crowd in.” She folded her hands in front of her and turned. “Are you prepared for the town meeting tonight? We need the final details and to make sure everyone’s within budget. Thi
s is your first year running the committee. I can go over—”
“I’m all set.” She’d had little choice. No one else had volunteered to go up against Mayor Dragon—err, Darcy. So, yes, she’d decided to lead the committee. It would guarantee her a seat on the town council. If she could deal with stuffy collectors, she could handle one mayor with an inflated sense of self.
She had every act, every booth, every janitorial expense noted. She’d stuck to budget and she was so ready for the three day annual festival.
“Can you come outside with me, please?”
Bella swallowed a sigh. “Of course.” She turned to Nic. “I’ll be back soon.”
Nic flashed her killer smile toward the mayor. Bright red lips showed off perfect white teeth. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her hip. The cherry print of her dress was somehow a little scary, a little too lush, and a lot intriguing. Just like Nic liked everyone to see her.
Sharon looked down her nose at Nichole. “Nice to see you again, dear. Tell your mother I said hello.”
Nic slid her ever-present piece of gum along the front of her lips before snapping a bubble between her teeth. “Sure thing.”
Isabella had to choke back a laugh. She peeled off her sweater and handed it to Nic. “Behave,” she said under her breath.
“Nope.”
Bella shook her head, but she dutifully followed Sharon out the front door. The temperatures were already soaring into the upper eighties and it wasn’t even ten in the morning.
They passed Skye’s hat store, The Mad Hatter. Skye waved to her through the window and started to come out, but spotted Sharon and made a face.
Isabella mouthed, “Coward.”
Skye shrugged and nodded.
When Sharon turned to make sure she was keeping up, Isabella smiled brightly. “I hope we can keep the sun, but maybe stay out of the nineties for next weekend.”
Sharon sniffed. “You’re still too new to know just how hot it can get here. Three years ago it didn’t get below ninety for over six weeks. It would storm and go right back to humid. You’d do well to get used to it.”
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