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Bluestone Song

Page 14

by MJ Fredrick


  “No one with anything to do with my career.” Or his private life.

  She narrowed her eyes. “I thought the point of you coming out here was so people would come to see you.”

  His shoulders tightened. Had he told her too much? “Yeah, well, word of mouth. I asked not to advertise. Otherwise I’d have people on my ass to make me go home and rehearse.”

  “You may not have noticed, but you’re an adult. People shouldn’t have to tell you what to do.”

  “But I make a lot of money for a lot of people. It gives them the right to boss me around.”

  She glanced over her shoulder toward the bar. “So you think they figured out where you are?” She turned back to him, hands on her hips, a stubborn expression that made him think of her sister. “And because you slept with my sister last night you think I told them. How would I even do that?”

  “It’s the way of gossip. It spreads fast. Your sister said you were pretty pissed.”

  Linda flung her hand out. “Well! She always acts high and mighty and when she found out I was pregnant she flipped out and acted like she’d never done anything like that, and it turns out she had, with you, and then you come back and she’s all acting like she doesn’t care, and then she spends the night with you?”

  “Your sister is very protective, both of you and of her own feelings.”

  “Yeah, well she could be honest about it instead of making like she’s St. Beth.”

  “But she has been St. Beth, for a long time now. She should be married by now, or in love. Do you remember her even having a boyfriend?”

  Linda huffed. “No.”

  “Why do you suppose?”

  “Because you broke her?” the girl lashed out.

  That hit a little close to home, and he winced. “Maybe. But maybe because she didn’t want to leave you. Maybe she didn’t want you to get attached to someone who was going to leave. And because she was setting a good example. And we all see how well that worked out.”

  Linda made a face.

  Quinn appeared then. “You’d better either start playing again or sneak out the back door,” he told Maddox. “They’re getting restless in here.”

  “Be careful what you wish for, huh?” Maddox asked, and slipped past Linda through the crowd and back to the stage.

  He didn’t get out of Quinn’s until almost two-thirty, and thought about all the nights he’d met Beth and how he’d looked forward to that. He should go get her, drive out to the lake and stretch out in the back of his truck watching the stars, the rest of the world be damned.

  Only she’d told him good-bye and she meant it. Punishing herself, probably, for not being perfect, for making what she considered another mistake. So he’d leave her alone tonight, but tomorrow he’d find a way to make her see walking away from him was the bigger mistake.

  Beth tucked her hair behind her ear and approached the table piled with glasses. God, where had those bus boys gone? No one was going to sit at a dirty table, which meant no tips, and God, she needed tips. She stacked the glasses and piled them into the plastic tub, then reached for the glossy magazine tossed carelessly beneath. She caught her breath when she turned the cover over and saw a picture of Maddox. It was an older picture—she’d seen it before when he’d been in and out of rehab, sunglasses shading his eyes, stubble shadowing the lower half of his face, his straw hat pulled low.

  But the headline was what made her heart seize.

  “Maddox Bradley Missing Rehearsals—Back in Rehab?”

  Was that where they thought he was? Did people think he was drinking again? This wasn’t a gossip rag—it was a reputable magazine. She folded up the magazine and stuffed it in her apron. She’d read it when she got a break.

  Only she couldn’t wait that long. She excused herself from the floor and ducked into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet to read it. She skimmed, holding her breath as she did so. The article talked about the car accident he’d had before he came to Bluestone, slamming his sports car into a tree. Though his blood alcohol test had been negative, the reporter speculated there was a problem, enough for him to disappear.

  Apparently the reporter had visited the rehabilitation centers Maddox had used in the past, to no avail. The few quotes from Maddox’s manager made Maddox’s whereabouts even more suspicious. Then the reporter implied that this latest round of rehab would be the end of his career.

  Beth couldn’t let that happen. But how could she fix it?

  “Miss Lapointe!” Her manager’s voice boomed through the bathroom door. “What are you doing in there?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well.” She tucked the magazine back into her apron and opened the stall door. She walked over to the sink and washed her hands, drying them quickly. She swung the door open to face her boss, whose face was florid.

  “You’ve left your tables for too long, and they’re complaining.”

  She pressed her hand to her stomach. “I’m sorry. I got sick.”

  “You should have handed your tables off to another waitress, but you’re too selfish for that.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  The big man folded his arms over his belly. “The other girls tell me you take their tables, their tips, and you’re not even friendly about it.”

  Beth lifted her hand to her forehead, as if that would help her understand his words. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I’m going to have to let you go. I need team players here, Miss Lapointe, and you aren’t one.”

  “Are you kidding?” For that? And what about the money her father needed? “I need this job, sir. I never knew anything about the complaints. Please, can I have another chance?” She took a step forward and the magazine fell from her apron.

  Mr. Pritchett bent to pick it up, glanced at it and gave her a look. “You’re hiding in the bathroom to read a gossip rag?”

  “No. I—I’ve never done such a thing. Like I said, I don’t feel well.”

  But Mr. Pritchett wasn’t buying it. “You need to clean out your locker. Return your uniform here tomorrow, cleaned.”

  He walked away, and she sagged against the door. What was she going to do now?

  Chapter Seven

  How much more humiliation could a person take? Beth stood outside Quinn’s office, took a deep breath, and knocked.

  “Come in,” Quinn’s gruff voice came through the heavy wooden door, reminiscent of Pritchett’s in the bathroom just last night.

  Her hand shook as she turned the handle and she stepped into the tiny cluttered office. What was she worried about? This was Quinn. He was gruff, but he looked out for her. He looked up from his paperwork and lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

  “I’d like to apply for my old job, if I can.”

  He leaned back in his chair and tapped the pen against her lips. “What happened?”

  “I—no longer work at the casino.”

  Apparently he picked up on what she didn’t say. “What happened?”

  “I was fired for reading a magazine in the bathroom.”

  Quinn was out of his seat in an instant. “What the hell? You want me to go beat some sense into them? That’s nuts. You’d never do something like that.”

  That he was willing to do that put her at an odd ease, and she sat in front of him. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. I got about half of what I need. I just—need a job. I was hoping you could hire me back.”

  “Of course you can have your job back. Hell, Beth, you’re the best waitress I’ve ever had. You can start as soon as you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’ll start tonight if that’s all right.”

  “Sure.”

  She backed out the door.

  “Everything else okay?” he asked, drawing her up short.

  Quinn never asked anything personal so of course she knew he was talking about Maddox. Which meant he knew she had been sleeping with Maddox. Which meant men gossiped just as much as women. For a moment she considered telling him wh
at she’d done, contacting the editor of the magazine about Maddox. What was done, was done, and if she’d made a mistake, well, she’d own this one, too.

  “I’m just dandy. Better now that I have a job.”

  “You aren’t going to have problem working here with Linda, are you? I know you two aren’t really getting along.”

  “We’ll be fine, though it would probably be best if you don’t put me in charge of her section.”

  “Noted. It’s good to have you back where you belong, Beth.”

  “It’s good to be back.” And she meant it. She smiled and turned away to leave.

  She was more nervous than she should have been, starting back at her old job. But she hadn’t seen Maddox since he’d come by her house after she’d slept over, and she didn’t exactly know what to say to him. Not to mention her mind was spinning with thoughts of that magazine article. Had he seen it? Did he care? He’d had articles written about his drinking before, but this time, it wasn’t true. Did that bother him?

  A few days ago she could have asked him. Now…

  Maddox saw her the moment he walked in, and reached her side before she could retreat behind the bar. “Are you working here again?” he demanded.

  “I am.”

  “You quit the casino?”

  Her shoulders stiffened. Her pride wouldn’t let her tell him she was fired. If he needed to know, Quinn could tell him. “I no longer work there.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “So you’re back in town. That’s good.”

  “And you’re leaving Sunday, right?”

  This time his body tightened. “I have that concert next Wednesday.”

  “I understand why you have to leave, Maddox. No one is accusing you of anything.”

  He glanced toward the stage. “You’ll be around when I get off?”

  “Probably beyond that. But, Maddox—”

  He didn’t stick around to hear the end of her sentence.

  The blonde who walked up to the bar was not the run-of-the-mill tourist, or the run-of-the-mill groupie, for that matter. Beth had seen enough of them come through the bar, and they generally moved in packs, which was weird to Beth’s mind. Did they not really want to get with Maddox, because why else would they travel with their own competition? Anyway, this woman was different. She was alone, for one thing. She walked up to the bar and ordered a draft, and turned to watch Maddox with a knowing look.

  Beth’s gut twisted. An old girlfriend. She had to be. Had she tracked Maddox down? What did she want from him? Beth flicked a glance at the woman’s flat stomach. Could she be pregnant? A cold, dark feeling she didn’t recognize spread through her. She was going to lose him for good this time.

  She gave herself a shake. She was not like this, borrowing trouble. She usually had enough to keep her occupied. And besides, she’d already resigned herself to losing Maddox. But suddenly the thought of never kissing him again hurt worse than anything.

  Idiot. She’d gone and fallen in love again.

  She passed by the woman, closer than she needed to, just to get a better look. To her surprise, the woman met her gaze and smiled.

  “Are you Beth?”

  Beth almost dropped the tray she was carrying. She edged to the bar and set it down cautiously. “How do you know my name?”

  “I’m Viveca Solomon from Persons of Interest Magazine. You called earlier this week?”

  Now the black feeling coiled in on itself and turned to lead. Beth was surprised it didn’t drag her down. She’d brought a reporter to town, and that couldn’t be good.

  “Can we go somewhere to talk?” Viveca asked.

  “About what?”

  “About what’s going on with you and Maddox Bradley.”

  Beth shifted so the tray was between herself and the reporter. “I have no intention of being in your magazine. I just wanted you to have the truth.”

  “Which you wouldn’t care about if something wasn’t going on between you and Maddox. Come on, you wouldn’t have called if you didn’t want me to follow up.”

  “I only left my first name because the receptionist demanded it, and I only mentioned Minnesota, not Bluestone Lake. I didn’t invite you here.” Would Maddox think she had? No, he knew her better than that. Didn’t he?

  “It didn’t take a genius to find out where Maddox used to spend his summers as a kid. And it didn’t take a genius to find out who he spent them with. So was Maddox your first love?”

  “No comment.” Pulse pounding, she swung away with the tray and tried to get Quinn’s attention. He could kick the woman out.

  Viveca followed. “If you don’t tell me, I’m sure I can find someone here who can.”

  Beth pivoted. “Look, there’s no story here. I just wanted to make it known that he’s not in rehab somewhere. He’s just trying to help the town he loved.”

  “And the woman he loves, too? I saw him talking to you earlier, Beth. There was a definite tension there.”

  Blood heated her cheeks. Damn it, why wasn’t it darker in here? And why wasn’t Quinn paying attention? He always paid attention. “You misread the situation. Listen, I don’t want to be rude, but I really don’t want to talk to you. I have customers to take care of.”

  “I’ll pay you five thousand dollars for an exclusive interview.”

  She turned to the woman, eyes wide. That kind of money, she could get her father off her back, for a while, anyway. But it would mean exposing herself—and Maddox—to the world. She…couldn’t. She couldn’t. It would be dirty money.

  But when was the last time she’d been offered an easy way out? God, the temptation. But it would amount to a betrayal of Maddox, and her own privacy.

  She shook her head. “No, thanks. It would be a waste of your money. There’s nothing to tell.”

  But her heart pounded as she walked away. Had she just made a huge mistake?

  By the time Maddox finished playing, Viveca was nowhere in sight, and Beth had a huge mess to clean up, along with the other five waitresses. At some point in the night, Linda had disappeared. Typical. In fact, Beth didn’t remember seeing her for a long time, and she’d been bussing her own tables.

  Quinn helped now, and Beth braced herself, waiting for a question demanding to know Linda’s whereabouts. But he stayed silent.

  After the band packed up their gear, Maddox approached.

  “I’m busy.”

  “I see that.” He gathered some bottles from a nearby table.

  “I don’t need your help. And remember what happened last time you tried.”

  “I’ve learned some things since.” He wrapped his fingers around four bottles and carried them to the recycle bin at the bar.

  Since he wouldn’t go away, she considered telling him about the reporter in town, but didn’t want to have a conversation. Maybe he’d leave.

  But he didn’t. He stayed until Quinn declared the bar acceptable, and walked out with the waitresses. Maddox caught Beth’s hand and drew her back as the others walked to their cars.

  “Maddox, I’m tired and I don’t want to talk, and…”

  He gave her hand a tug, just enough to have her stumbling forward into his arms, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

  If she was honest, he gave her plenty of opportunity to slip away, but she preferred to think she had no choice as their lips met, as his tongue slid over her lower lip, then deeper, as if he was hungry for her. And God, it felt good to have someone wanting her, focusing on her. She’d denied herself what she wanted for so long. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and heard his hat hit the deck with a thunk. His breathing deepened as he folded her closer, leaning her against the log siding of the bar. His erection pressed insistently against her, and she rolled her hips against it before she realized what she was doing.

  He lifted his head. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She opened her mouth to say she couldn’t, that she needed to get home, that she didn’t want to set a bad example for Linda. Instead she said, “
Okay.”

  His eyes brightened, as if he’d been waiting for her to say the other, and he grabbed her hand as he stepped back. They hurried down the steps to the truck, where he pinned her again, his mouth hot, tongue stroking with a sexy promise, before he released her and shoved her inside. He followed and kissed her again, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. She curled her fingers in his hair briefly before he pulled away to start the truck.

  Her pulse pounded in her ears as he drove toward the lake house, a drive interminable in the silence. He kept his hand on hers, and when he stopped at a stop sign, he gave a tug and kissed her again, then took off with a squeal of tires.

  Her legs were shaking by the time he pulled in front of the lake house. Anticipation made her weak as she followed him up the steps. She wanted to feel his hands on her, his mouth on her, his body against her, inside her. She’d forgotten how good it felt to be aroused, and to know it was going to be satisfied.

  He closed the door behind them, hard enough for it to bounce open again, then he pressed her against it, his hands sliding down over her ass to her thighs, parting her so he could step between them and stroke with his hips. She moaned against his mouth, and he eased his kiss sideways, over her cheek to her ear, then her throat. She was so focused on that, his touch on her breast surprised her. He circled her nipple with his thumb, then bent his head to cover it through her T-shirt.

  She whimpered and pushed against him as he suckled, then grabbed at his T-shirt, reaching beneath, stroking her palms over the hair on his flat belly. Then she couldn’t resist. She unbuckled his belt and slipped her fingers beneath his waistband.

  Suddenly she was spinning, then falling, and her butt hit the stair seconds before he lowered himself on his hip beside her, holding his weight on one hand while fumbling with her jeans with the other. Together they managed to shed the denim and she tried to struggle to her feet, but he clasped her arms and shifted to kneel between her legs, looking up at her with a naughty grin.

  “I’ve wanted to do this all night.”

 

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