She waved at her partner and closed the door behind her. It was a short hike from her store to the barn and she needed the time to build up her poker face. Nothing was different between them. Heck, they didn’t even know each other. Just because they couldn’t seem to stay away from each other when they were in the same room didn’t mean a damn thing.
He was just new and intriguing. Half the nation thought so. More like the world. Logan was a household name, for God’s sake. She was just an oddity he had to deal with. As soon as he had his friends around him, Logan would forget all about her.
She only had two days to get the festival settled and the artists scheduled. They’d all jumped at the chance to play a second show, especially when she’d offered up some money. Now she had a dozen acts to move around from the main stage to the barn and finally to the smaller venue at the edge of town.
Bella heard the drums and guitars as she turned the corner. A crowd of people were crammed into the doorway of the barn. Acoustic guitars floated on the late day breeze, but it was the voice that made her stop dead.
A woman’s voice that dipped and soared with the familiar lyrics of one of Lady Antebellum’s biggest hits. Then the harmonies started and she knew that second voice. Logan’s voice blended in so completely that she’d have sworn they’d sung together for years.
She slipped through the side door with her key and shut it behind her before the crowd could notice. The stage was nearly finished and a lighting setup had been added to the rafters. Logan stood on the edge of the stage behind a keyboard, his eyes shut as he crowded his mic, his lips brushing the end with every word.
Then the woman’s voice pulled her attention. Angel blond hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back as she walked to him. Graceful and curvy in all the right ways, she demanded attention. Not because she was showing off, but because she was ethereal both in voice and stature. She wore a simple white tank over ancient jeans frayed at the knees and ankles with five inch silver stilettos that should have seemed out of place and yet suited her to the ground.
She slowly wandered to Logan, the song soaring into its climax. He opened his eyes and their gazes met. Lyrics about needing someone desperately filled the empty barn. Then a heartbeat-like guitar folded around them as Logan’s piano echoed the painful loneliness of the song.
The woman rushed around the keyboard and hugged Logan. “I didn’t think that song would work. I’ve never done a country song in my life.”
“You sure didn’t sound country with your sweet voice. But that’s the beauty of Lady Antebellum. Their style works for country, rock, pop, and you’re gorgeous enough to keep the rest of the people riveted.”
Bella’s chest ached. Was he always so quick with the compliments? Why the hell did she care?
She lifted her chin and walked out into the middle of the room.
Logan’s attention swung her way. “I thought you’d forgotten about us, Izzy.”
Ignoring the flutter and throb that warred inside her every time her nickname rolled from his deep baritone, she crossed her arms over her raggedy t-shirt. Damn Nic for being right. Next to the blond goddess on stage, she felt even grubbier.
“Since you’re holding the setlist hostage, you knew I’d show up.”
“Are you always late?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m assuming that’s one of the songs?”
The blond looked between Logan and Bella and a brilliant smile bloomed across her face. “Is this the infamous Isabella?”
Logan came out from behind the keyboard. “At least one of us has manners.”
Bella felt the flush climb her neck. She sounded like a catty bitch. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Isabella Grace, but Bella’s fine. That’s what everyone calls me.”
“I’m Lindsey York.”
The name clicked from the original list of festival artists. “Brooklyn Dawn, right? I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you.” Bella moved closer to the stage.
“The wild hair and leather, right?” Lindsey laughed. “It’s nice to get out of the stage clothes sometimes. Logan asked me to come in and do some stripped down stuff. You have no idea how excited I am.”
Damn. She had to be nice. “You sounded beautiful.”
A dark-haired man came up beside Lindsey. “She’s got the voice of an angel.” He brushed his shoulder-length hair back. “I’m Cole Deveraux.”
Yes, you are. Bella swallowed. Winchester Falls was going to drown in delicious men for the next few days evidently.
“Wait until you hear the other song.” A rangy guy with sun streaked hair and an enviable tan entered the stage from the side. He was wearing a battered acoustic guitar around his shirtless back, with a seriously low slung pair of board shorts. Had he come straight from the beach?
Then she got a better look at his face. Zeke Stacey, Logan’s lead guitarist in All the King’s Men. She’d heard that Zeke was a walking Jimmy Buffet song, but wow.
Lindsey turned to Logan. “Do you want to do that Marc song?”
“Another Day?”
She nodded.
Zeke waved down to Bella. “Well, hello there.”
“Behave.” Logan’s voice was a low rumble.
Zeke swung his gaze to Logan, then back to Bella before hopping down to the floor. He held out his hand. “Zeke—”
“I know who you are, Mr. Stacey.”
His grin widened as they shook hands. “You know my name? Now that is interesting.”
“You do know that it screams desperate when you hit on every female in the room, right?”
“Confidence, my friend.” Zeke’s pale blue eyes never left hers as he answered Logan.
She couldn’t help but laugh before she pulled her hand away and stepped back. Bella stuffed her hands into her pockets. It was disconcerting to have that many famous people staring at her. “I’d love to hear the song.”
Zeke’s shoulders slumped for a moment before he shrugged and jogged back to the stairs to join the rest of them on stage.
Lindsey smiled brilliantly. “We can do that one next. Then I can go up to the cabin and fall on my face. I haven’t slept in three days.”
No sleep and she looked like that? Hell. Where was the justice?
Logan’s whisky voice rasped over the speakers. Just him and a piano for the first verse. Longing curled into each word as the song spoke of a couple who was finally coming to the realization that they weren’t meant to be.
And when Lindsey’s voice picked up the next verse it was haunting and quiet to go with the piano. Stripped of the overwhelming passion in the previous song, instead it was gut wrenching and simple. When Logan came into the song with her, they matched longing and sadness into a harmony that even the untrained ear knew was special.
The words were dripping in fear and longing, to wish for anything but the truth. As it ended Bella wanted to be anywhere but there. The song hit too close to home on a number of levels.
How many times had she stayed with the wrong man? Chosen the wrong man? Only in her case, it had been easier to walk away. She’d known it was wrong and still walked into it because she’d needed to feel good for a little while.
Logan met her gaze and she had to force herself to stay put. Shattered eyes stole her breath, then it was gone as if she’d never seen inside of him. A driving beat pulsed from the back. Logan laughed over his shoulder as Zeke went to town on the drums.
Cole’s super deep voice made the crowd outside lose it as he put his own twist on “Dancing in the Dark”. It broke the seriousness of the two songs before and the lights above matched the heavy drums of the song.
They went through song after song. Some pop, some that she’d never heard of, a Brooklyn Dawn radio hit that they methodically stripped down. The crowd outside dwindled as the hour grew later.
She’d been fascinated by how they put a setlist together. How they chose a piece of music, and what happened when it didn’t work. Songs that Logan vetoed sounded amazing to her.
&nb
sp; Part of her wanted to quiz him as to why he tanked the well-known Journey song in favor of a less well known ballad in the same style. In the end, she stayed to the back and simply absorbed. She tried to pay attention to the other artists, but it was Logan that trapped her.
He was so sure in his decisions, so focused on an amalgam of music that only he seemed to understand. Musicians came and went. The consensus seemed to be that most people were staying with Logan that night.
It was after ten when she finally listened to her screaming back. She’d been on her feet for well over twelve hours and it was beyond time for her to find her apartment. She hadn’t eaten—hadn’t even thought about it.
As quietly as she’d slipped in, she escaped. With a brain full of Logan’s varied and skilled musical talents, she needed to find a quiet place to regroup. She cut through the path between the park and the road to the barn. Huge lights were still on as the volunteers worked out the last few kinks before the show on Friday.
Two days and she had a million details to deal with. She shouldn’t have spent the night watching him rehearse. It had been incredibly hard to hold out against Logan, the man. But seeing his passion for his music on display? Now she was well and truly screwed.
Each time he laughed with Zeke, her chest had ached. When he lost himself in a song and surfaced a few moments later, he always seemed to find her in the room. How was any woman supposed to hold out against that?
Her pocket buzzed as she turned onto Main Street. She pulled her phone out.
You forgot your setlist.
She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. All the shops were closed, the only sounds were the hiss of a distant nail gun and the night battle between the tree frogs and crickets. But one text and she could hear his taunting voice in her head.
Instead of answering, she stuffed her phone back into her pocket and picked up her pace toward Between the Lines. It buzzed again and she managed to ignore it for another block as two more vibrations warned her of more texts.
Unable to turn off her curiosity, she dug out of her phone. Three picture images slowly loaded. Bold, block handwritten setlists, one for each night. They were all labeled, as professional-looking as a typed list.
It was exactly what she’d needed.
There was no reason at all to throw her phone. He was being professional. Just like she’d requested. She jammed her key into the lock and swung open the door. The happy jingle of the overhead bell made her scowl.
She locked up and stomped up the stairs to her loft. The satisfying screech of the old metal lever latch releasing and the pulley system that opened her door made her feel a little better.
She hit the lights and evened out the rest of the way.
Her apartment.
Her haven.
The soothing blues and violets of the sheers that framed her tall windows. The massive magenta couch she’d bought in New Haven that had taken her, Nic, and Adam to get it up the stairs. Followed by another twenty minutes of swearing to get it through the door. Her beloved four poster mahogany bed that took the center stage on a raised dais on the far side of the loft. Along with the ridiculously expensive feather duvet that somehow kept her cool in the summer, and warm in the winter.
These were her constants.
This place was all hers. And one day, when she found the right man, she’d have a house and kids. She’d been building a nest egg for just that day. But nowhere in that plan was there room for a rock star.
She texted back a simple and unadorned, thank you, and plugged her phone into its charger by the door and put him out of her mind.
Mostly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Logan snapped the locks on his guitar case. He wasn’t entirely sure when Izzy had snuck out of the barn. He and Zeke had been conferring over the music of a song by Otis Redding and he’d simply known she wouldn’t be there when he turned around.
The air felt different. And the unending supply of energy he’d been blazing through simply melted out of him. Had he been performing for her?
No.
Not completely anyway. The moment he and Cole had plugged in he’d known that the barn was where he belonged for the festival. He’d do the main stage to close out the weekend as he always did, but this is where the magic was.
Lindsey and Cole meshed well enough at the start, but by the end of the night all of them had been as tight as a jam band. Zeke and Morgan, from his band, could play with anyone. He’d had complete confidence in that.
The real wild card would be Johnny Cage. He was a helluva talent, but the boy wasn’t really good at playing second string. And while Logan was more than willing to share the stage with a bunch of artists, this was his show.
Every song had slid into place. It had been years since he’d felt that connection. Fresh and different had been his focus since he’d stepped foot in this barn. The mix of artists he’d chosen for the three extra shows would either be madness or genius. He was still on the fence with which way it was headed.
“You ready to go, Logan?”
He turned at Lindsey’s voice. She was stunning. Beautiful in a way that made men do stupid things. Zeke had been tripping over himself to impress her all night. Logan had met her at a show in Georgia last year and there had been a little buzz between them.
He’d followed her career, watching her falter on the club circuit only to finally hit the radio waves with a strong single. That one bump had been all they’d needed to set Brooklyn Dawn on the right course. Asking her to be a part of the festival would give her the last blast of promotion she needed to get her record label to push her album harder on release. The industry needed a shake up and bands like Brooklyn Dawn were a good start.
Lindsey was exactly the kind of distraction he needed this weekend. She was bright and talented. A sweet and sexy woman with a youthful exuberance that would make him feel alive for a little while. And when it was over they’d go their separate ways without hurt feelings and promises. Lindsey York didn’t dig under his skin like a cactus needle.
She came into the barn, her hands fisted into a hoodie. “Are you all right?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Yeah. Just a little distracted.”
“It’s been a long night. But a good one, I think.”
“You knocked it out of the park tonight. I’m sorry Jamie couldn’t be here to play with us. I think she’d have enjoyed this.”
“She’d have died to play with Zeke. Well, she might have broken one of his fingers, possibly an arm, because of the flirting.” They both laughed. “When they got beyond that, I bet there would have been some epic guitar duels.”
Logan huffed out a groaning laugh. “Zeke doesn’t really have an off button when it comes to women.”
She wrapped a curl around her finger. “He’s harmless.”
“Glad you know that. Let me know if he bugs you too much.”
“Nah, it’s flattering. One of the best songwriters in the room wants to flirt with me? I’m good with that.”
“Anytime you want to come down to the studio and work, he’s always up for it. There’s no one on this planet with energy like Z.”
“Are you up for it?”
Logan leaned against the stage and crossed his arms. “You want to try a writing session?”
“If you’re okay with that.”
“Yeah. We’ve got all afternoon to mess around.”
She stepped a little closer. “I’d like that.”
He dropped his arms, his palm flattening against the planks framing out the front of the stage. “Yeah, I would too.” They had chemistry from a music standpoint. That had been evident in their rehearsal.
He lifted his other hand to her cheek and she tipped her head up. The signal was clear. She was interested, or at least enough to see how he tasted. She licked her lower lip and he took a breath.
She was the right choice. Uncomplicated and beautiful. A perfect way to empty the untapped tension he’d been carrying around with him for t
he last eight months.
And still, the wrongness of it arrowed between his shoulder blades as he bent his head and touched her lips. She went up on her toes and met him full-on. Soft, pliant, and skilled. He tried to lose himself in the meeting of lips. Lindsey York’s kiss should have been just what he needed.
If he hadn’t met Izzy.
“Dammit,” he whispered and stepped back as he stared at the floor.
She slowly lowered her heels back onto the funky little flip flops she was wearing. “Yeah, I had a feeling.”
He met her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I got to kiss Logan King. You know how many women would like to say that?”
“I…” What the hell could he say that didn’t make him sound like a complete douchebag?
“I get it, Logan.” Her smile was open and friendly. “It would have been fun, but I understand.”
He speared his fingers into his hair. “Good thing you do, because I don’t.”
“Sure you do.” She patted his cheek. “You’re kissing the wrong girl. I’ve been watching you stare down that woman who’s running this shindig. Bella? I think that’s her name.”
“Izzy,” he said with a nod.
She flipped her long tail of silvery blond hair over her shoulder. “That’s the one.”
He sighed and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Why are you kissing me, then?”
She tipped her head to the side and raised one eyebrow. “Because you’re hot.”
He barked out a laugh. “Thanks, I think.”
She shrugged. “I had your poster on my wall when I was fifteen. This is fantasy central here, buddy.”
“I’m just a guy, Lindz. No different than the rest.”
“Sure, you keep telling yourself that. Especially considering you’re kissing me when you should be chasing after the one you really want.”
He straightened his shoulders. “No, I shouldn’t.”
“Well, let me reword it. You want to be kissing Bella.”
“Me and Izzy won’t work.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Because he wasn’t the stable boyfriend type. Because it wouldn’t work. Because if she knew just what kind of complications that came with him, Izzy would be crossing the street to get away from him. There were so many reasons he could choke on them.
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