He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah, yeah. I need fucking coffee.”
“You look like shit, man.”
“And you look like a beach bum.”
Zeke grinned and stood. “This beach bum just left the arms of a beautiful woman. I don’t think I can say the same for you. When’s the last time you actually slept?”
He looked down at his watch. “Pretty sure I got about four hours last night.”
“No, you smell like a bottle of whisky. I mean real sleep. Sober and in a bed.”
“Like your rum and tequila is any better?”
“We’re not talking about me. I only do that on special occasions.”
“What? Days that start with T and S?”
“Hey, that’s three days of rest for my liver, buddy.” Zeke held his hand out. “Up off the floor with you.”
Logan clasped his forearm and pushed up as Zeke pulled. Cody lumbered off the couch and leaned against his knee. He gave the dog a quick rub down with a return trip of a scratch. Then the dog happily bounded down the stairs.
“Good to see you, Z.”
“I was hoping for a better state of affairs after that call yesterday.”
He grunted as he padded down the hall to his room and the master bathroom. He brushed the funk out of his mouth and looked up to see Zeke’s face in his mirror. “What the hell? It’s not like I’m coming in here to slit my wrists.”
Zeke crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.
“If you want a show, keep standing there. I’m taking a shower.”
Zeke rolled his eyes. “I’ll go make coffee and breakfast.”
With a wince, he slid his hand over his belly. “Just coffee for me.”
“Dude, you’ve lost at least ten pounds in the last month. You’re eating a skillet full of bacon.”
Logan tipped his head back then whipped his shirt off and threw it in the hamper. He looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t that skinny. A bit more defined than he’d been in years, but he didn’t look sickly.
Zeke was just being a mother hen.
Fifteen minutes later he was decidedly less beardy and much more clear-headed. He followed his nose downstairs to the breakfast production being held in his kitchen. Cody was sprawled on the tile floor, snoring softly. Zeke had three pans going on the stove, a pile of bacon, eggs, and what looked like a sweet potato hash.
“Hey, look at that. You don’t look like a grizzly bear anymore.”
“You should talk, fur face.”
“Ah, but I look good with it. You looked like my scary Uncle Mike.”
“Fuck off.” He filched a piece of bacon off the pile.
“So, tell me this trip into small town USA, earlier than expected, is worth it.”
“You get to spend my money for toys. Oh, speaking of toys. I got you something while I was in the city. I had a layover.”
Zeke clapped then rubbed his hands together. “A present? I love presents.”
Logan went through the living room into the music room and picked up the case sitting behind the piano. He came back into the kitchen and pulled two chairs together from the breakfast nook. “A little incentive to do rehearsal today.”
“Bribes are my favorite thing.” Zeke washed and dried his hands before coming around the island. “Oh, shit is that…?” He crouched in front of the guitar case, his hand at his mouth. “How?”
“I walked into this little hole in the wall guitar place in SoHo and there she was. I couldn’t fucking believe it.”
“Cherry, no less.”
His best friend was an Epiphone freak. They’d been on the hunt for a decent Sheraton ‘62. “Limited edition with all the original hardware.”
Zeke stood. “You’re really not dying, right?”
He pulled him in for a hug. “No, I’m not dying.” He slapped his back. “It was just there. Like it was meant to be.” He stepped back and crossed his arms. “I need to figure out that barn and this should keep your attention on the rehearsal.”
Zeke hated to rehearse more than anything. He’d play for hours in a jam session or under searing lights, but ask him to put together a setlist and the guy was looking for the door. “I had some of my equipment delivered to the park like I usually do.”
“Good.”
He stroked the fret-board lovingly, then hurried around to the stove. “It’s your fault we have extra crispy potatoes.”
“Best kind there is.”
“There is truth in that statement.” Zeke scraped the potatoes onto a plate with the eggs and bacon.
They ate at the island standing up as they’d done hundreds of times before. He filled Zeke in on the artists that were coming up for rehearsal tonight, and the ones that would be in over the next few days. Logan still had to hear back from a few people and to call his manager for an update.
All in all, things were shaping up.
Z helped him pack up the truck after they ate. He brought a half dozen guitars down to the barn. He knew what to use for the open air show on Sunday. The little barn was going to be the wild card.
They drove through the shopping area of town, Zeke leaning out the window with a matching Cody sharing the space. People recognized him as usual and his best friend shouted out friendly hellos. He and Z had the uncanny ability to remember names and it came in handy with networking. However, Z, used it with fans and promoters to a degree that astonished Logan.
It didn’t matter if they were store clerks or store owners, Zeke shouted out to anyone who’d engage with him, as they crawled down Main Street. By the time they’d passed the park and turned off Bennett Lane, Zeke was happily chirping about all the people in town.
“So, what’s with the hat place I saw? That wasn’t here last year.”
Logan parked and hopped out of the truck. “That one and the bookstore are new since the fall.”
“Hot store owners?” He sighed. “Probably not. Who wears hats these days?”
“The Princess of Wales.”
Zeke pushed out his lower lip. “Truth. So the shop owner is hot? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I don’t know, man.”
“How about the bookstore owner?”
“Always on the make. Can’t you take a night off? The town will be full of girls Friday night.”
“That, my friend, was not an answer. So, the bookstore owner is hot.”
Hot. The word usually covered a host of things about a woman. Z wasn’t quite a juvenile as he sounded, but he was close. But this time, Logan didn’t have the faintest clue how to describe Izzy. Classy, soft, gorgeous, ballsy, uppity—the list was as varied as the woman.
Zeke slid in front of him. “Well, well…more than hot.”
“Stop.”
“Okay, way more than hot. Did you break your own rule, Lo?”
“No.”
“So grouchy and final. Maybe if you broke your rule then you’d get some sleep. After sex sleep is the best. Relaxing and brain draining.”
“That’s because you think with the wrong head ninety percent of the time.”
“Nah, eighty-five.” Zeke waggled his eyebrows.
Logan rolled his shoulders. Zeke always saw too much. It was one of the reasons he’d gone off the road for a while. He just wanted to get through this festival and maybe, just maybe, find a little love for his music again. He started around Zeke. “Can we just work?”
Zeke gripped his upper arm. “You need to let it go, man.”
Logan’s smile vanished. “We’re not talking about that.”
“If you’d just get over it—”
“We’re not,” his voice lowered as he crowded his best friend, “talking about it.” At Z’s clenched jaw, Logan swore. “She’s not here. Can we not make this about her for one show?”
“It doesn’t matter if Aimee is here or not. Yeah, she has a name. She’s a self-indulgent, spoiled rich girl, that’s all. Nothing special.” He tapped the middle of Logan’s forehead with his foref
inger. “You never let her out of there.”
Logan jerked his head away. “We’ve got a setlist to hammer out.”
“You know she’s going to show up. Especially this show. She gets off rattling you.”
He fisted his hands and paced away.
“You need to get over this shit, Lo. It’s fucking with everything. You’re the one giving her all the power.”
The bright sunny day faded as his vision fuzzed around the edges. “Back off.”
Zeke sighed. “You’re walking the edge and I don’t like it. Maybe if you actually let another woman into your life you’d be able to deal better. Have something else to focus on.”
Logan whirled back. “No woman needs to climb into the shitstorm that is my life and you know it. So leave it.” Shoulders heaving, he stared at the toes of his boots. Clear your mind. Empty it out and focus.
“You worry me, man. I don’t like to worry. It expends energy and cuts in on my drinking time.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Can we just table this? For just a few hours can I pretend I’m a normal guy?”
“I don’t know any normal guys that have thirteen musicians on speed dial.”
Logan grinned. “You do, too.”
“Not famous ones.”
“That’s because you keep sleeping with their girlfriends.”
“It’s not my fault—”
“I know, I know. You’re prettier.” He shook his head, but the winched muscles between his shoulder blades finally eased. Zeke could change the mood like a summer Texas sky. “Would you concentrate? Use those muscles you like to show off all the time.”
“You mean these?” Zeke shucked his shirt and tucked it into the back of his cargo shorts.
“Jesus. You’re going to attract attention.”
“I’m only doing what you said, boss.” Zeke hiked two hard-sided guitar cases onto one shoulder and headed for the barn.
He didn’t quite have the heart to tell Zeke that it was mostly men that were inside working. Then he heard Zeke’s voice. “Ladies. How are we this gorgeous and sunny afternoon?”
Logan dropped his chin into his chest and sighed. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he unearthed it to find a few text messages and another email from Izzy.
He had her cell number in his phone so he dashed her off a text to meet him at her earliest convenience for a copy of his setlist for her precious schedule.
I’ll be there at six. Think you can take a picture of it for me for now?
He grinned down at his phone and texted back.
Can’t download my brain. Suck it up, buttercup. You’ll have to wait till six.
Zeke peeked his head around the barn door. “Are you coming? There are way too many beautiful women with hammers in here. You gotta save me.”
At least his best friend was an equal opportunity flirt. He loved women of all ages and sizes. He always made them feel like the most important person in the room. Logan wished he had that kind of easiness with fans.
For him, people invaded his space and always seemed to know way too much about him to make him feel comfortable. And now…
He forced his mind to shut down. No, he wasn’t going to think about Aimee Collen again today.
His phone buzzed in his hand. He looked down at her text and grinned. He could hear Izzy’s clipped voice in his head.
Fine. I’ll see you at six.
Logan shoved his phone back into his pocket and hauled his rolling trunk out of the flatbed. A pair of hands appeared at the end of the trunk. He looked up. “Hey, Cam.”
“I’m glad you guys came out this afternoon. Mayor Darcy said you wouldn’t be rehearsing until later tonight.”
“Thought I’d get here early and get the kinks worked out.” Lindsey York and Cole Deveraux were coming in tonight.
“There are plenty to unkink. Bella was here earlier to make sure the electrician did his job.”
Logan snorted. “Why does it not surprise me that she’d micromanage?”
Cam grinned. “Just be glad you’re not the electrician.”
“I’d bet my sixty-seven Les Paul that she probably knew just as much about the wiring as the professional.”
“I don’t take sucker bets.”
“Smart man.” Logan paused. “How well do you know Izzy?”
Cam’s brow quirked. “Bella? A fair bit, I guess. She’s headstrong, smart…”
“Smokin’ hot.”
“There is that.” Cam looked down at the trunk, then back up at Logan. “Why?”
“We’ll be working pretty closely for the next few days. Am I going to have someone in my face about taking up her time?”
“Is that a roundabout way of asking me if she’s dating someone?”
Logan cleared his throat. He wanted to deny it, but that was one lie he couldn’t tell himself right now. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
Cam curled his fingers around the trunk. “Again, I’m going to ask why?”
Logan shoved the trunk back a few inches and braced his hip against it. “Is there something I should know, Cam?”
“No.” He looked away. “Bella and I are just friends.”
“But you want more? What the hell are you waiting for, man?” He asked the question even as his neck tightened and he crossed his arms, tucking his fists under his biceps. Cam was a good guy. Just the kind of guy that should be dating—hell, marrying—a woman like Izzy.
Didn’t mean he liked it.
“Things work a little slower here.”
“Be careful, man. A woman like that is going to get snapped up quick.”
Cam’s serious brown eyes pinned him in place. “By someone like you?”
“I’m no good for her.”
“That’s not an answer.”
It was on his tongue to promise that he wasn’t tempted. But his poker face was definitely cracking today. “It’s the only answer I have for you, man.” He hauled the case out and Cam caught the other end.
They cleared the flatbed and they carried it over to the mouth of the barn. When they put it down, Logan spun the trunk as he’d done a thousand times and coasted across the room with a knee on top of the trunk.
Zeke, of course, was entertaining a handful of women that were more than happy to ooh and ahh over his new guitar. Cameron’s crew was buzzing around the room, breaking down the scaffolding and pinning a new facade of bead board to the front of the stage. Just those two cosmetic things made a world of difference.
The stairs were already reinforced. New pine crossed over old with brand new nails still gleaming. Logan dragged his boot to slow his forward motion. “Working hard, I see.”
“Lo, I was just talking about you. These lovely ladies are here to help us set up.”
“Is that right?” Zeke knew he didn’t let anyone else touch his equipment except his tech. Zeke knew this because he was just as insane about people messing with his gear.
“Oh, yeah. Do one of you lovely ladies have a notebook?”
“I have my notes app on my phone,” a blond girl said.
“Perfect.” Zeke sidled up close to her. “I need you guys to get a few things for us.” He rattled off Logan’s preference for gum and the hot tea he kept on stage. And that’s when Logan tuned out. His best friend would charm them into doing all sorts of errands for them.
Logan sighed and flipped open the locks on his trunk. It was going to be a damn long rehearsal. It was already heading into the noon hour. They had tons of set up to do, and he had a lighting rig install to oversee.
He wanted the barn to be totally transformed by the time Izzy arrived. Staying one step ahead of her was the only thing he could focus on right now. There were far too many balls in the air to get this festival to work out.
And he’d make it work if it killed him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bella jammed her feet into a pair of sneakers. She’d gotten stuck on the phone with Bobby trying to haggle a book out of his library, as well as appease one of her oldest
clients. That had started at five.
Getting out on time to meet Logan for his rehearsal had been a lesson in futility. It was twenty after six by the time she’d realized just how long she’d been talking to her client. Now she had to go to the barn in very barn-like clothes.
Her stomach had been in knots all damn day. Last night had been an epic mistake. The kind that she’d end up writing about in her journal when she was old and senile. She’d tell her crazy stories to the nursing home—especially the one where she turned down one of the sexiest men on the planet because…
The because would come sooner or later, right?
Right now all she felt was uncertain and knotted up. He’d wanted her. In the dark¸ with too much wine flowing between them, he’d backed her up into the doorway and she’d blown him off. Now she had to go and face him.
“Why are you still here?”
“I’m not. I’m a figment of your imagination.”
“Mr. Cogan kept you on the phone, huh?” Nic leaned on the counter, her chin in her hand. “Haggling or telling you about his granddaughter?”
“Both.” Bella dug her fingers into her palm. She really should go up and change. Dusty jeans and a ratty t-shirt wasn’t exactly the look she was going for.
“So, you’re going in that?”
“Nic, I’m late as it is. It’ll just have to do. I’m not impressing anyone tonight. This is just rehearsal. Besides, the wreck of a place calls for this kind of clothing anyway.”
“You’ve got Mr. Sex-On-Legs waiting for you.”
“He’s not waiting for me…exactly.” No, that had been last night. Waiting for her in the dark. Yeah, we aren’t going to think about that part. Nope. Negatory. “I’ve been on the phone more today than I have in a month. What I care about is a setlist and schedule for me to add to my ever growing to-do list. A pretty skirt isn’t exactly high on my list.”
“All right. I’ll remind you that you said that tomorrow. You know, when you’re crying because you realized your huge mistake.”
Bella grabbed her purse and her bulging planner off the counter. “I’ll be too busy curling into a ball and rocking from exhaustion.”
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