Hawk and Dove (Rock Star Romance Novel)

by Amanada Lawless

  “You poor thing,” Kate says, taking my hand, “The last thing you probably needed was to see Dad.”

  “Yeah,” I say, “But thank god Trent came and brought me back. He was...amazing. The last night of the festival, he stepped in and played a set with me, and even brought me on stage with his band. It was incredible.”

  “How did you guys leave it?” Mom asks, “I mean, you’re back here now...”

  “I got scared,” I admit, “About diving into this rock star world he’s living in. But he asked me to come on tour with his band this summer and, well...I couldn’t refuse. I know it’s risky, and might be a huge mistake, but I had to take the risk. I have to see where this leads.”

  “You’re a brave girl,” Mom says, smiling, “But...shouldn’t you be off with them right now, then?”

  “Well, that’s the thing,” I say, “The tour kicks off in New York in a day or so...And the band needs somewhere to hang out in the meantime...”

  “What are you suggesting?” Kate asks.

  “Why don’t you guys take a took out the front windows,” I tell them.

  Mom and Kate spring up from the table and rush to the front of the house. I hear their twin gasps as they see the tour bus idling on the curb.

  “Here?!” My mom cries excitedly.

  “We’re going to have a rock star sleepover?!” Kate exclaims.

  “Is that OK?” I ask, “I realize it’s a bit late to be seeking permission...”

  “Are you kidding?” Mom says, “This will be like living in New York all over again! I used to hang out with musicians all the time, before I got all domesticated.”

  “Wait until I tell the girls at work about this,” Kate breathes, “They’re going to turn bright green!”

  “And here I thought I’d have to convince you,” I laugh, meeting them at the front door.

  “We’re no squares, Missy,” my mom says, brushing her hair out of her face, “Bring them in! I should make...something. What do rock stars eat?”

  “Whiskey and the adoration of fans?” I suggest.

  “I’ll figure something out,” Mom says, rushing back into the kitchen.

  Who would have thought, when we first moved into this place, that we’d one day be running a B&B for rowdy rock star types? I guess you never can tell what’s going to happen in this crazy thing we call life.

  “I need to change...” Kate says, rushing up to her room, “Would fishnets be trying too hard?”

  “Yes,” I chuckle, “Trust me, they’re much more approachable than you’d think.”

  “Easy for you to say!” she cries, “You’re one of them!”

  “I guess you’re right...” I say, as my mom and sister disappear inside the house.

  I step back out onto the porch and wave toward the tour bus, signaling Chuck to pull into the driveway. The enormous vehicle moans up the incline and grumbles to a stop. The bus is practically as big as our house. I head over just as Trent and the guys are stepping down out of the hotel on wheels.

  They look around our quiet little street, a little confused by the lack of bright lights and loud noises. I wonder when the last time was that they had a little small town hospitality.

  “Come on,” I say, taking Trent’s hand, “Welcome to Chateau Jackson, gentlemen. I’m sure you’ll find everything is to your liking.”

  We trudge on up the front walk, me and my escort of rock royalty. I’m glad we live in a relatively secluded part of town—no prying eyes have popped up to spy on us yet. I wonder how long it takes the paparazzi to catch up with Trent’s comings and goings?

  Hopefully, I can spare my mom and Kate that much, at least. I lace my fingers through Trent’s as we climb the steps of my front porch. If I only could have known leaving this house for the festival what kind of amazing souvenirs I’d be bringing home with me.

  The door swings open, and my mom and Kate appear in the threshold. I have to bite back my own laughter as I see the excited looks on their faces. They look for the world like two kids on Christmas morning. Kate’s slipped on a very becoming little sundress, and even Mom is trying to affect her hard-won Lower East Side cool for the benefit of our musical guests.

  “Everyone,” I say, addressing the band, “This is my sister Kate, and this is my mom.”

  “You can call be Abby,” my mom says quickly, offering a wide smile to the attractive young men on her doorstep. “Why don’t you all come inside?”

  “You really don’t mind us staying here?” Kenny asks.

  “Not at all,” Kate says, “This will be a story for the grandkids, for sure.”

  “Not my grandkids,” Mom says quickly, “I’m not a grandmother, or anything.”

  “Smooth, Mom,” I mumble, grinning at her.

  “I just want that point to be clear,” she sniffs, opening the door for us.

  The band mates follow me into the house while Chuck hangs out in the bus. I watch as the guys take in the homey details of our little abode. We really do have the kind of house that could only possibly have been lived in by three women. Every tiny detail has been attended to over the years, and even I have to admit that our home is one of the coziest there is.

  It’s incredibly strange to see four hard, rough and tumble bad boys making their way through our foyer. They look about as out of place as can be, though I guess that’s probably what they thought about me too, the first time I came around.

  “This is it!” I tell them gesturing to the kitchen and living room, “Plenty of couches to crash on, all the organic goodness you could eat, the works.”

  “It’s really nice of you to have us, Ms. Jackson,” Rodney says.

  “Abby,” Mom corrects him, “And it’s no trouble. I don’t have class all summer, so it’s nice to have a little company around here.”

  “Do you guys want to see the back yard?” Kate offers, “We’ve got a nice little fire pit and everything.”

  “Cool,” Rodger says, giving Kate a not-too-subtle once over. My sister leads the guys out the back door, but my mom steps forward and places a hand on Trent’s arm holding him in place.

  “I wanted to have a word with you, away from the others,” she tells him.

  For a moment, I’m afraid she’s going to dive into a “what are your intentions” sort of speech, like she used to with the boys I dated in high school.

  “Is everything OK, mom?” I ask.

  “Oh, of course,” she says, leading Trent and I into the living room. It’s hard to believe that just a couple of days ago my father was here, perched hideously on our couch as though he ruled the household.

  The very memory makes me grind my teeth in anger.

  “What is it, Mom?” I ask.

  “Actually Ellie,” she says, “I was hoping to talk to Trent for a moment on his own, if you don’t mind.”

  I look back and forth between my mother and the man that I’ve fallen so swiftly in love with. I’m a little surprised—I don’t want Trent to feel cornered. But he just smiles kindly.

  “It’s cool,” he says, “We’ll meet you out back.”

  I leave the room, wondering at the absurdity of the situation. But if I stop and marvel at every outlandish thing that happens to me from now on, I’ll never have a moment of peace.

  I head out to the backyard, leaving my mom and Trent to have their little heart to heart.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Ellie’s mother looks after her retreating daughter, waiting to hear the swing of the back door as it settles back into its frame.

  Her eyes swing toward me, and I notice once again that they’re practically identical to Ellie’s. Only, there’s a wisdom and a certain resigned toughness to Abby’s eyes that has yet to settle in Ellie’s. Hopefully, it will never have to.

  “I’m glad you’re here Trent,” Abby says, gesturing for me to take a seat, “It’s nice to see you again under less...awkward circumstances.”

  “I hope that I didn’t step out of line the other day,” I tell her, “Rea
lly, I only came to make sure that Ellie was OK, and to try and convince her to see the festival through. I never meant to stick myself in the middle of any...family stuff.”

  “I’m not upset with you,” she assures me, “Although you do have rather outrageous timing. That’s the first time the girls’ father has been here in about a decade.”

  “It must have been rough, seeing him again,” I say.

  “It was,” she replies, “I’d like to think that the whole issue of our divorce is resolved, but those things never quite stop hurting. I like to be strong for my girls, and I’m afraid that they saw a rather vulnerable side of me that day.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being vulnerable,” I say.

  “According to the above-it-all rock star?” she laughs.

  “You’ve got me there,” I smile. “But honestly, I thought you handled yourself very well. Given the situation, and all.”

  “Thank you Trent,” she says, “But I didn’t keep you here to tell me how wonderful I am as a mother. I just need to make a few things perfectly clear.”

  “By all means,” I say.

  “This family has been through a lot,” she begins, “From before the girls were born, things have not been...ideal. There’s been a lot of heartbreak in Ellie’s life.”

  “You can hear it in her music,” I say.

  “It’s true,” her mom replies, “I’m not suggesting that she’s some kind of wilting flower that needs to be handled delicately. She’s a scrappy little thing, always has been. There’s nothing she can’t do when she puts her mind to it.”

  “I don’t doubt that at all,” I say.

  “She gets what she wants,” Abby continues, “And it doesn’t take a genius to see that what she wants right now is to be with you.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I say honestly.

  “Is that what you want as well, Trent?” she asks, “Do you want to be with Ellie as much as she wants the same? I need you to be honest with me.”

  It’s a frank line of questioning, but I step up to the plate anyway. “If anything, Abby, I want it more than she does.”

  She scans my face for any trace of bullshit, and I can practically feel the heat of her gaze as it sweeps over me. But she can’t find any hint of a lie there, because I’m telling her the truth. There’s nothing I want more than to have Ellie at my side.

  “All that I ask then,” Abby says softly, “Is that you keep her best interests at heart, always.”

  “Of course,” I say.

  “Even if that means one day letting her go,” she finishes.

  That one’s tougher to swallow.

  “I thought you wanted her to have what she wants?” I reply.

  “I want her to be safe, and healthy, and happy,” Abby says, “But that doesn’t always go hand in hand with getting what she wants. I need you to be accountable for this, because once she’s got her mind set on something, there’s nothing that will shake her loose. I need you to promise that you’ll let her go, if being with you becomes too...much.”

  “Too much?” I ask.

  “Too dangerous,” she says, “Too traumatic, or risky.”

  “That’s no small thing you’re asking,” I tell her.

  “I know,” she says, “But I need you to promise all the same. If you think she’ll be better off without you, you have to do the right thing. You have to let her go.”

  I stare at Abby, the weathered, proud matriarch. As much as I’m loathe to think of life without Ellie, I have to admit that she’s right. If I thought that being with me was doing harm to the woman I love, I’d have no choice but to end it.

  “I promise, Abby,” I say quietly, “If I think she’s better off without me...I’ll do what I have to do.”

  “Thank you, Trent,” she says, resting her hand on mine.

  “You don’t think it will come to that, do you?” I ask, feeling like a teenager again.

  “What do I know?” she says, laughing off the gravity of the situation, “I’m just an old lady, now. I don’t know anything about the lives you crazy kids lead.”

  I smile at her, happy for the break in heavy conversation. “And you promise you’re not mad that I threatened to beat up your ex?”

  “Oh please,” she says, waving my comment away, “If I had a nickel for every time someone wanted to punch that man in the face, my mortgage would be paid off and then some.”

  “You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?” I ask her.

  “Ellie’s Dad?” she says, “What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t mean, like, stalker dangerous,” I say quickly, “I just...I didn’t have the best relationship with my dad growing up, and it’s never really...gone away. The harm he did. I guess I’m just asking whether you think seeing him again is going to, you know...”

  “Set Ellie off?” she says, “Don’t worry about that. He can’t hurt us anymore, or you, for that matter. He’ll disappear back into the woodwork and mind his business now, I’m sure.”

  I nod, but I’m far from convinced. There was a relentless, selfish need in that man that I don’t think is going to be extinguished so easily. If he shows up again, and hurts Ellie in my presence one more time, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

  I picture myself taking a swing at him, really kicking the shit out of his sorry ass...but as I try and picture him in my mind’s eye, his face keeps becoming my own father’s. I know that some of my outrageous ire toward Ellie’s dad has everything to do with my own unresolved issues.

  Unlike her father, my own has been completely disinterested in my career so far. I’ve never gotten an ounce of respect from that man, and I know that no amount of success will ever change that.

  But now, with Ellie in my life, I feel like there’s something about me that he’d actually be proud of. My family would love Ellie—everyone does. Will there come a point when bringing them a wonderful girl as a peace offering will stitch up our family? Somehow, I doubt I could stomach such a thing.

  Abby rises and leads me toward the backyard. I can’t help but run through the growing list of people who have been cast off this past week. Ellie’s dad, that Mitch kid, and of course Kelly, are all far too close to us for comfort. Kelly especially could try and do some real damage to our band if she puts her mind to it.

  I spurned her pretty dramatically—I wouldn’t put it past her to try something crazy. The schemes she could be cooking up right now hang heavily over my head.

  As I follow Ellie’s mom out into the backyard, I’m all but forced to let go of doomsday scenarios.

  Their yard is like a fairy world in miniature. String lights hang over the wide patch of green grass, illuminating the scene below. A charming picnic table stands at the center of the space, all set out with glassware and oilcloth. Tall pine trees form a protective ring around the yard, secluding us from the rest of the world. Fireflies flit and fly all over, blinking in and out as I look on.

  I laugh as I catch sight of my band mates. Kate has put them to work already. They sit at the picnic table with a dozen ears of corn between them, shucking of the husks. They look like three overgrown boys, helping Mommy prepare for dinner. It’s too much for me to handle.

  Ellie has a gigantic pitcher of iced tea balanced on her hip, and Kate is tending to the fire pit. This has got to be the most unlikely assortment of people ever to collaborate on a backyard feast. I’ve seen a lot of crazy things as a rock star, but this scene is right up there among the greatest hits.

  “You OK?” Ellie asks softly, hurrying over to me.

  “Sure,” I say, “She just wanted to get to know me a little.”

  “That’s all?” Ellie asks pointedly.

  “That’s all,” I say, bending the truth like a goddamn pretzel. “What’s going on out here?”

  “Oh! We’re going to have a cookout,” Ellie smiles.

  “Do you want one ear or two?” Kenny calls out to me, his pant legs rolled up like he’s goddamn Tom Sawyer or something.
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  “Two for me,” I tell him, “And keep them coming. Can I do anything to help?”

  “Actually,” Ellie says, setting down her pitcher, “I was wondering if you’d come on a little errand with me?”

  “Sure,” I say, “Where to?”

  “You’ll see,” she says, “I just want to set the record straight about a couple of things. I’ll explain everything on the way. I’m sure we’ll be back in time for dinner.”

  “Whatever you want,” I say, wincing unnoticeably as Abby’s warning comes back into my mind.

  “Be back in a bit!” Ellie calls to the group, taking me by the hand. She leads me back through the house and over to her little banged-up sedan.

  As we settle in, I lean over the cockpit and lay my lips firmly on hers. She kisses me back, a little surprised by my force but as game as ever.

  “What was that for?” she asks, starting the car.

  “Nothing,” I say, “I’m just really glad to be here.”

  “Me too,” she smiles.

  I keep my mouth shut tight as we skirt around the tour bus and out into the little town. I’ll probably never have to act on the deal I made with her mother, after all. Why bother bringing it up at all? This moment is too nice to spoil with “what if’s”, anyway.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  “I thought we were having dinner at your place?” Trent says.

  I smile, turning into the parking lot of Vera’s diner. “We are,” I tell him, “This is just something of a business meeting.”

  “Whatever you say,” Trent sighs. He’s not the only one who’s bound to initiate flights of fancy in this relationship.

  We step out of the car and make our way into the restaurant. A string of bells rings our welcome as I push open the door and step into the familiar, homey space. Everything’s exactly the same as it ever was in my favorite haunt, except for one feature.

  “I’ll be damned...” I breathe, taking a gander at the gigantic picture of me that’s tacked up in the restaurant's front lobby. “Vera wasn’t kidding.”