But the biggest one was her.
His gut rolled, but he forced himself to own up to the name. Aimee Collen.
“All those reasons I saw on your face, don’t compete with the fire in your eyes when I say the name Bella.”
He clenched his jaw and schooled his features into the blank mask he’d perfected over the years.
Lindsey propped her hands on her hips. “Izzy.”
His chest constricted, but he didn’t say a damn word.
She pointed her finger at his nose and made little circles. “Flaring nostrils and that muscle tic thing that guys do when they’re frustrated. Oh, and your shoulders are so tense you’re probably getting a headache.”
Logan tipped his head back. “Awesome. Glad I’m so easy to read.”
“Nah, I just know the signs. You have the hots for her and she’s got the hots for you, that’s for damn sure.”
He folded his arms across his chest. When she pealed out a delighted laugh, he sighed. “Not cool, Lindz.”
“Hey, I kissed one of the world’s hottest and most eligible bachelors and he was thinking about another chick. I should have clocked you. Instead I’m going to give you some advice.” She jammed her finger into his chest. “Go after the girl.” When he opened his mouth to object, she wagged that same damn finger at him. “Don’t give me any excuses.”
“It’s not an excuse. It’s a fact.”
“It’s a fact only because you’ve got it in your head that way.”
“If I could change it I would.”
“But it would be okay with me?” She tipped her head, a frown beetling her slim brows. Then they smoothed. “Ah, I get it. Because it would only be a weekend of fun?” She lifted her chin. “What if we’d clicked? Would I be off the list too?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
She huffed out a breath. “Well, you tell it like it is, now don’t you?”
He swiped his palm down his stubbled neck. He was bungling this, like he’d fucked everything up lately. “I’ve got a security issue.” He swallowed hard and searched her face. “It’s not good.”
Understanding bloomed slowly. “How long?”
“Two years.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Jesus, Logan. How?”
Only another artist knew just how security worked in the life they chose. And being a woman helped. “I’m just lucky, I guess. She’s very well-funded for a stalker and it’s a very long story.”
She rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a few close calls in the last few years. With the paparazzi in our faces all the damn time, it gets easier for them to find us.”
He crossed his arms. “There’s an app for my whereabouts evidently.”
“Then why isn’t there security all over the place?”
“I won’t live like that.” He refused to be a prisoner to his fame.
“Oh, hon, you already are. If you’re denying yourself a relationship because of this, then you’re letting her win.” She held up a hand. “That’s all I’ll say about it. Why don’t we get out of here, huh?”
He nodded and tucked the portfolio under his folded arms. She seemed to know he didn’t want to talk and he was grateful. He’d tried to ignore Izzy all night, but the way she reacted to his music, her gaze on him at odd moments that night, the way he’d searched her out—all of it had been on display and far more obvious than he’d like. He was stupid for encouraging Izzy.
Someone had been enterprising enough to get rid of the last of the stragglers that had been watching their rehearsals. They’d been lucky the fans had been under a reasonable level of control that night. He had a security detail coming in tomorrow to keep things a little more streamlined.
The drive back to his cabin was filled with ribbing and the usual trash talk. Everyone was glad to be done for the night and he had to admit he was happy to have the distraction.
Lindsey was right. Hell, Zeke was right. He was letting Aimee rule his life. It had been happening little by little for the last eight months. He just wasn’t sure how to push it aside.
Logan pressed his forehead against the window. The night was ink black with a sliver of moon to break up the star studded sky.
“You’re very pensive.”
Logan swiveled to Zeke’s voice. “Just tired.”
“You know we have epic drinking to do.”
“You animals are going to eat all my food and drink all my booze. You don’t need me to be there to do it.”
“So you can go up to your room and be moody?”
“Maybe go down to the studio and be moody,” Logan said.
“You would.”
“It is soundproofed.”
“Let’s not be Mr. Anti-social the first night, huh?”
Cody dropped his huge head into Logan’s lap with a muffled whine. Logan stroked between his ears and down his muzzle just as the dog liked until they began the climb up to the cabin. Then Cody sat up between them, his huge tail thumping on the seat.
The lights were on and another car was in the drive as they came up. Everyone and their damn brother had access to his house this weekend, so he wasn’t shocked to find Emerson, one of his bandmates, at the stove when he walked in.
“Oh, man you made it.” Zeke slapped Emerson’s back. “What is that glorious smell?”
“Jambalaya.”
“You are a beautiful man.” Cole brought up the back. He slung an arm around Emerson’s shoulders. “Your mama’s recipe?”
“Is there any other way?” Emerson asked with a laugh.
Zeke patted his cheek. “Look at you all beardy. We’ve only been off the road for two weeks.”
Emerson scratched at Zeke’s blond beard. “A real man can grow a beard quick. You’ve been growing that thing for months.”
The ribbing continued as Lindsey and Morgan came in. Soon the room was filled with laughter, the yeasty smell of fresh bread and the rich, spicy scent of shrimp and sausage-infused rice. The clang of dishes and laughter carried through the meal. His wine fridge was also four bottles lighter by the time the bowls were empty.
When cleanup turned into a showcase of name that year for song titles, Logan quietly escaped through the back door with the remnants of a bottle of Pinot Grigio. The night was still heavy with humidity and the lure of the pool was too much to resist. He kicked off his boots, rolled up his jeans to his knees, and dropped his feet into the water.
Inside, the round robin of musicians showing off for each other was a pleasant distraction from thoughts of Izzy. He stretched out on the sandstone lip that curled around the pool and breathed in the fresh air. The sky was a blanket of stars with a tiny scar of moonlight showing through. This was what he’d been missing. And why he would never give up this place.
Life on the road could be claustrophobic. Especially lately. He’d been walling himself off from the people he’d longed to entertain. Shows were something he’d been dreading. Knowing that one face would be there in the second row. Always and without fail. Even on the nights he’d play impromptu shows, she’d known.
She’d found him.
He’d craved familiar faces in the crowd once upon a time. Knowing that a fan would come to multiple shows because the music moved them was its own high. That had been his drug of choice since he’d turned seventeen.
The laser focus of one woman ruined that. Aimee Collen.
That’s how he’d known it was time to come off the road for a while. When the dread outweighed the pleasure it was time to stop. For two months he’d walked away. Tonight had reminded him that the music was still there, still living inside him.
This little town had given him that.
And the town had also given him Izzy.
At the very least, the promise of something more with a woman beyond panic and dread. Hell, for the last eight months he’d holed up after the shows. It had been so long since he’d even entertained the thought of letting a woman get close to him, let alone in his bed. The real question was…could
he take a chance on it?
CHAPTER NINE
Bella hurried down Main Street. She had a meeting with Cam in three minutes and was behind schedule. She also had to go down and see what was happening with the second night of rehearsals with the barn. Sharon had cornered her in the middle of the afternoon to nail down the specifics for the vendors. And every client she’d ever cultivated needed some rare book—at least it felt like they did.
All in all, she’d been running since six that morning with no signs of slowing. Thank God, Nic could cover the books and Adam was a wizard at research, and taking care of customers at the same time. Dr. Multitasker was his self-proclaimed title. And this week she’d give him the moniker without any grief.
What she wanted was to hide out in her basement level with a bottle of wine and her sweats. She wanted to be the one to find the first edition of Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale and to fly to the auction for a vintage illustrated version of Snow White signed by Walt Disney. Even just to see those old pages…
She sighed and picked up her pace. Priorities didn’t include fun this week. And driving into New York for the auction was just not in the cards.
“Bella, over here.”
She smiled as Cam waved at her. He’d become one of her best friends since she’d moved in. She skirted the pile of lumber strewn across the grass. She frowned. That should not be there. They’d finished the main stage in the park the afternoon before. Cam had been working on the barn for the last two days.
“What happened?”
“Had a little issue with one of the Richardson boys. He and his friends were showing off and punched a hole through the side of the stage.” At her climbing eyebrows, he laughed. “Don’t worry, he’s earning his keep.”
“Did you still have lumber?”
“You know me, Bella. I always have extra.” He crossed his arms. “And as punishment they’re doing three Habitat houses with me.”
“I do love your evil side.” She pulled out her phone. “You ready to do this?”
He unholstered his tablet and started listing off their to-do list. With both of them on Sharon’s hit list, they’d learned to keep organized and get the specifics out of the way.
“Cotton candy machine came in from The Berkshires, so we have two of those now. And I’ve heard back from all the vendors. Everyone will be here starting at eight AM to get set-up for the opener.”
“You are, officially, my hero.” Strong and capable, Cameron had become her rock for the festival. She stepped forward and gave him an impulsive hug. “I don’t think I’d have gotten any of this done without you.”
Cameron’s arms came around her. Warmth and sawdust enveloped her. She had the strong urge to cuddle in and not let go. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed the touch and comfort. Cameron had always been that for her. On the official checklist of things she wanted from a relationship, he ticked off every damn mark.
Except one.
All she felt was comfort. She stepped back and looked up at him. That part of her that screamed to just try it, to see if she kissed him that there might be some miracle spark between them, was so freaking loud. She could see it in his eyes. He’d been subtle and never pushed, but she knew just one move from her and he’d be willing to give the more than friendship thing a try.
But she stepped back and focused a little too hard on the split piece of wood beside her foot. She made herself look up and smile. Cam didn’t deserve her waffling. He deserved a woman that would make him the one hundred percent priority. And she knew, deep inside, that comfort wasn’t enough.
His arms fell to his sides. “Well, if you don’t need me for anything, I’m going to head up to the barn for the last minute details.”
“I was heading up there myself. Johnny Cage has been added to the bill. I need to make sure the security Logan promised has arrived. It’s going to be a madhouse here starting tomorrow.”
Cam searched her face for a moment, then pressed his lips together.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Not my place.”
She sighed. “Let me have it. I can take it.”
“You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“With what?”
“Don’t play stupid, Bella. It doesn’t suit you.”
She crossed her arms over her middle, twisting her fingers around the strap of her purse. “I’m trying my damnedest to be professional. I thought I was succeeding.”
“You are. And I like Logan. He’s a great guy. I’ve known him for a long time.”
She blinked up at him. “You have?” She’d known that Logan came into town relatively regularly, but she’d been living there for almost a year and had never seen him. She just assumed that he kept pretty private.
“I helped build his cabin with Jacob. He’s a good guy. Funny and irreverent. Can go shot for shot with Jacob Stack for whisky and that’s saying something.”
Surprised, she relaxed a little. She’d seen Logan in the barn and thought he was part of the crew, so it shouldn’t be that out of the realm. “Wow.”
“He came here as a young adult. Broke down on Main Street when his fancy car shit the bed. He ended up stranded here for a few days. This was before he started All the King’s Men. Right after his first band had fallen apart.”
“Right. I remember he used to the boyband stuff. I didn’t start listening until…” she trailed off. She’d been able to hide that side of her from the festival. The whole town didn’t need to know that Logan had been one of her favorite musicians.
Cam just laughed and shook his head. “I own a few albums. No need to be embarrassed about it.”
“He’s a household name. When he released ‘Tipping Mark’ I was officially sunk.”
“Helluva lot different than the bleach-tipped kid doing mall tours back in the day.”
She laughed. “I was listening to Foo Fighters and Stone Sour.”
“Teen Bella was a little headbanger. I didn’t know that.” Cam tipped his baseball hat back. “Always a surprise.”
“Oh, if you’d have seen me in the city as a teen.” Her smile fell away. She’d been a wild child because no one had ever given a damn where she was. As long as her grades were good, she’d been off her parents’ radar.
He searched her face for a moment. “Let’s walk and talk.”
She nodded and they fell into step. The last minute hammering, volunteers setting up canvas pop-ups against the wicked sun that had been warned for tomorrow, and laughter faded as they made their way up to the barn from the back trail.
“So what was he like?”
“He was a bit of a punk kid. But back then, so was I.”
“Cam, you were born with the word responsible on your tongue.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.”
She grinned and carefully picked her way up the trail.
“Oh, shit—er, shoot. I’m sorry. I didn’t even pay attention that you were wearing a dress and girl shoes. We could have gone up Main and over.”
“I grew up in the concrete jungle, buddy. I can walk in heels up a cliff if I have to.”
“Well, I can’t. So don’t break anything.”
“I won’t.” The night hadn’t cooled off in the least, so she’d opted for the kelly green cotton dress and sandals. So, her sandals were four inch heels—she was short dammit.
“We gave Logan shit about his history, but it turned out that he was really cool. And he was a damn hard worker. He had this ridiculously expensive car, but barely had a dime to his name. So he worked off the car charges at Jacob’s farm. A few years later he moved here and hired local to build his house.”
“Well, that’s rather cool.”
“The cool part was that he insisted on learning how to do everything. And man, did Jacob give him the shit jobs to do. He didn’t complain once. He’s become a damn good carpenter.”
She was glad it was dark, because she was pretty sure she’d dropped her jaw on the path
. Reconciling the idea of Logan the millionaire, the man with the sad and hungry eyes, and now a guy who had come looking for some sort of meaning in building a house, left her reeling. He was supposed to be a spoiled rock star with a harem of women.
Not this.
Not a man that grew more intriguing every hour.
Voices floated down the path, reminding her that she had a job to do. The growing fascination with Logan was just going to have to wait. The crowd of people was much further back this time. Two black SUV’s were parked in a V-shape near the entrance to the barn. The steel barriers were also new.
Evidently the security detail had arrived. She circumvented the fifty or so people that had crowded around and headed to the woman with a clipboard. Halogen lamps were set up at each end of the make-shift gate, illuminating the entire area.
“Hi. I’m Isabella Grace.”
The woman gave her a bored look then checked the tablet in her hand. A hint of surprise flickered over her face, but was quickly masked. “And you, sir?”
“Cameron Harding.”
She nodded and another man, at the end of a section of the gate, slid the barrier open. They had to make it through two more checkpoints before they even got to the doorway that lead to the front of the barn.
Evidently Roth Defense didn’t mess around on security. A little of the tension that had been strangling her since Logan had taken over the barn, melted away. Drums and a low, buzzy bassline vibrated the air.
A new voice crooned into the night. She frowned and picked up the pace to the doorway. She found Logan immediately. He was on the floor like an audience member. Pensive face, arms folded as he dragged the nail of his thumb over his lower lip again and again. No one else was around him.
Everything inside of her tingled to life. He was in unrelieved black, both dress pants and a tailored shirt. Every inch of him was in work mode. Intelligent eyes focused on the stage, actively listening. She’d never seen someone actually do that. No fiddling, no distractions, no checking his phone—just completely and utterly focused.
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