“She and Gabe wanted it that way. The girls fought the idea of their mom getting married at first, so this was a way to win them over. They’re going to Disney World as a family. All Melanie ever wanted is family and a husband. That and….”
“And?”
Jed scowled. “Nothing. A father, okay? I was going to say a father. The truth is, I allowed you here because of Melanie’s wedding. As insurance Buddy will come.”
“That’s why you agreed for me to be here?”
“Mostly. I’m also doing it to get the title to my land. Buddy is going to be out of my business for good. So I’m no saint. I need to get back to work here. And don’t expect that I’ll be done till late.”
In other words, Remy was dismissed.
Jed had his feet planted and his hands on his hips, so Remy wisely said nothing else. If he understood Jed better, then he might be able to talk to him about Buddy. But Jed was no polished LA type, and Remy didn’t exactly speak angry cowboy.
One reason Remy always liked music. You didn’t have to speak. It connected everybody without words.
What Remy did know for sure was he didn’t like being dismissed. Not ever. It pushed all his buttons. Not because his ego was so big he couldn’t handle rejection, but because he was far too sensitive about people not liking him.
Remy stayed right where he was.
“So your sister’s getting married, eh?”
Jed gave him an irritated glance. “That’s what she says.”
“You expected to dance at this wedding? I could teach you a few moves.”
Remy did a fake cha-cha move and wiggled his hips.
Having Jed’s hungry gaze on him was getting Remy horny as hell. He couldn’t look at Jed and not think hot, raunchy sex. How would it be to dance with him, grind their bodies together? He wanted to get Jed naked so badly, but Remy would settle for even a simple touch.
“Come on, one dance.”
“No.”
“No? Well, then, talk to me some more.”
When Jed remained silent, Remy stopped moving. “You really make a guy work for a conversation, don’t you?”
“I don’t have anything to say to you.”
That was for sure. Jed had been more talkative about his horses. Remy knew when the time for flirting was over. Besides, hadn’t he decided to stop the empty gestures with Jed? Yet here he went again….
Remy dropped his dancing pose.
“Tell me about ranching or your nieces. Tell me something real,” he urged.
Jed studied Remy, his gaze searching. What he saw, Remy couldn’t begin to guess, but it must have satisfied Jed.
“Emma, my oldest niece, was the one who named Hagrid. She loved Harry Potter movies, and she was going through a tough time at school. Her asshole teacher forced Emma to read out loud in class, despite her having learning problems and being an easy target for the other kids to poke fun at. So I took her to the ranch, and I’d just found Hagrid at this time—”
“And you helped them both.” Remy swallowed the hard lump in his throat. Did Jed remember how he helped him? It didn’t appear so. He wanted to remind him, but his vocal cords felt like glue.
Jed shrugged. “I did what I could for Emma. But she still had to stand up to those girls on her own when she returned to school.”
“So did I,” Remy said, finding his voice.
Under Jed’s questioning look, Remy found his tongue loosened.
“I had always been small for my age, but it wasn’t an issue until sixth grade when all the other kids hit puberty and I just didn’t. Although I had no idea it was so visible to people, I was effeminate in my gestures. And I didn’t enjoy gym class or know about sports. My dad had taught me to draw, not toss a football.”
“The other guys teased you?”
“Somewhat. But to be honest….” A hot burst of shame went through Remy. Funny how the shame was always there, as fresh as the first time, even after years of accomplishment and distance. “It was this one girl who primarily tormented me. She hated me, for whatever reason somebody just decides to hate another person. As far as I recall, I never even spoke with her. One day this girl, Joanna, she started teasing me. In the beginning, it was small stuff, calling me peewee or messing with my backpack. I always felt her watching me, whispering about me. I tried to ignore her, the advice my parents gave me.”
Jed shook his head. “That never works.”
“Yeah, I learned it the hard way. We had this sixth grade battle of the bands, and I wanted to go. I asked our teacher questions about the bands; I was pretty excited for it. That was my first mistake. I let them see that I was interested. Even then I liked music, so I had my mom drive me over. Joanna was there, with all her dumb pubescent little friends, and they circled me. She told me that she had a present for me. What, I asked her, my second mistake. I took the box and unwrapped it. I wasn’t a stupid kid, but I was sheltered and trusting, dreamy, I suppose….”
Frowning, Jed’s forehead creased with worry. “Then what happened?”
“Then her friends were chattering about how I should open it. I lifted the lid of the box and found a bra.”
“A bra?”
“It was pink with lace, Warner’s brand. Can’t believe I can still remember that detail. But I can, I can see it in my mind. And like an idiot, I held it in my fingers. That’s when her dumb friends took my picture and began to laugh themselves silly. Joanna, she didn’t laugh, she turned to me and said, ‘You’re nothing but a wimpy faggot who needs a bra.’ I called my mom to get me, never telling her the reason. Never got to see the battle of the bands.” Remy gave a hollow laugh. “By the next day, the story was all over the school, and it got brutal from then on.”
Remy pressed his lips shut and forced his gaze to Jed’s. Jed’s fists were curled. He looked angry enough to take a swing. Somehow, Jed’s obvious emotion gave Remy the courage to finish the ugly story. “My father died around this same time. And that was the summer I came to the ranch. You…. You probably don’t even remember me being here, but I never forgot you. You helped me, Jed, just like you did for your niece.”
“I helped you? How?”
“The day I arrived here, Buddy left me and went to go do some work. There were some boys here, ranch hands’ kids, I guess? Anyhow, they took one look at me, and I could tell they were about to bother me. Told you that I was an easy target.” Remy curled his lips with bitterness. Jed, meanwhile, was staring at him, his eyes soft with concern, even as his fingers stayed balled, as if he wasn’t sure whether to punch the fence or bring Remy into his arms.
“You rode up on this chestnut horse and told them to quit it. And they listened to you. Nobody bothered me the entire time I was here. I followed you around, never daring to talk to you, just trying to be around you. If you were fishing, I went fishing. If you were swimming at the lake, so was I…. And they all tolerated me. I wasn’t a friend to you, I realize that, but…. You rescued me, Jed, and you didn’t even seem to know it.”
Jed shut his eyes, his expression pained. “I’m so sorry, Remy. For that horrible, shitty girl, and for the other kids on the ranch…. And for me. Because honestly? I only vaguely remember.” True regret laced Jed’s voice.
“It was a lifetime ago. Don’t worry about it. And I was grateful for what you did do. I never expected you to be my friend….”
“Well, now we get another chance at that, don’t we?” Jed murmured. He touched Remy’s shoulder. Remy shifted closer, torn between his old fantasy of Jed and wanting to take this offer of friendship slowly.
“Jed.” His voice cracked a little. He wanted to tell Jed the rest—of his crush, of his yearning—but Remy swallowed the words. “I… gotta go work on some songs.”
“Okay.” Jed stepped back. “You go do what you gotta do.” He turned, his attention on the colt again.
Remy went to his room and booted his computer. Despite telling Jed he was going to work on his music, his emotions were still zigzagging all over th
e place, and Remy knew it would be impossible. He’d been attracted to Jed before, but now? Fuck, now, how was he going to keep his hands off the man?
To distract his racing thoughts, Remy checked his social media. With the whack jobs and trolls always out there, he didn’t do it often. Usually Lisa kept his social media going, with Remy posting but never reading or handling any comments. He could still recall the Disney show days when he had made the mistake of reading them. Even the most innocent of episodes would get the nastiest of remarks. Oh, he’d learned to mask his sensitive skin, to pretend it was thick and tough as an elephant’s hide, but it wasn’t easy. To survive each time he put himself out there, in the public eye, Remy had to keep telling himself it was those people’s desperation showing in the comments, not his. Telling Jed about his days being bullied had made Remy see what it cost him to pretend he didn’t give a damn.
After closing out his social media, he skyped his mother and aunt in Florida instead, cheered by their familiar faces filling the screen. Loving his family had always been easy. At least, in this way, Remy had been luckier than Jed. He noticed how Jed flinched at the mere mention of Buddy’s name, how any growing connection between them would suddenly halt.
Jed had this deep hurt over his father. Remy’s father might be dead, but he had never felt anything but love.
Remy’s mother was all smiles as she appeared on his Skype until she noticed his hair. “Oh! What happened to your beautiful hair?”
“I cut it.”
“I can see that. But why?”
“Meh, I got tired of it. Besides, I wanted to see if I could start a new trend.”
“What nonsense.” After a moment, she added. “It is nice to see your eyes better.” That was his mother; she always found the silver lining. “How is your mystery vacation?”
“Relaxing.” Remy suppressed a grin at the thought of telling his mom about mucking out stalls all day. “What are you and Aunt Marina up to?”
“Oh, we hit the festival flea market. Aunt Marina found a good bargain on some sunglasses. I bought another purse. A red one. I like it because it has extra pockets in the front.” His mom was addicted to bargain shopping. Despite having no money worries, she and Aunt Marina loved to shop for deals. His mom loved knickknacks, especially picture frames, and she had filled their home with family snapshots. Thinking about those pictures gave Remy an immediate warmth inside and a connection to what mattered. Although he loved to tease his mom and aunt about the tacky quality of their flea market finds, seeing those pictures in their gaudy frames were always a reminder that he had people who loved him.
“And tonight we’re going out with the two captains. Remember I told you about them? Too bad they gave up their boat before we met. Marina has a date with the needy guy before that for a late lunch. I think they might break it off. But who knows? She always says that.”
“Ma, don’t call somebody the needy guy.”
“Well, that’s what Marina calls him.”
After years of never dating, she and Aunt Marina were suddenly social butterflies in their retirement community, dating every weekend. Remy rarely learned the poor men’s names. It was always the captains (for the twin ex sailors), the artist, the needy guy…. Remy was happy for them, if a bit baffled. His mom was a beautiful woman, always had been, with her Sicilian looks—and Aunt Marina was too—but his mom hadn’t been with anybody for years after his dad’s death. Remy was sure he might need to go to Florida soon and make sure nobody was taking advantage of her. He had threatened to, until they both told him in no uncertain terms to trust them. And since most of the seniors they dated at Sunny Point—a fifty-five and older community—took them to early-bird dinner and the date was over by nine, Remy was learning to accept it.
“And I’m more concerned about your love life.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I see it. Ever since that no-good, selfish Nicky—” His mom pretended to spit a bad taste out of her mouth. She did that when things pissed her off.
“Ma, you never even met him.”
“Exactly. You were with him for years, yet he could never be bothered to come with you to Florida? That was a sign.”
“Of what?”
His mother clucked her tongue, indicating how slow she thought Remy was being. “That he was no keeper. What else?”
Remy didn’t want to discuss all the ways Nicky had let him down.
“You have to keep on trying. Don’t give up on finding love. Have faith.” His mom pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “You know, my friend Edna has this wonderful son—”
“Don’t matchmake. That drives me nuts. Where’s Aunt Marina right now?”
“In the kitchen. Want me to get her?”
“No, that’s okay,” Remy said quickly. He didn’t desire to hear more about the needy guy or his aunt’s other dates. No thanks! “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
“Okay, but she’s planning to indulge in some gin and tonic tonight on her date. She might sleep late.”
“You’re not drinking too, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Good, because the doctors say—”
“Remington, I’m taking care of myself. Stop nagging me like I’m a child. My heart condition is under control.”
“All right, fine,” Remy grumbled, knowing enough to back off when his mom took that censuring tone. Her heart problems had begun a few years ago, and last time he’d visited, his mom had felt fragile in his arms.
“All is fine here, I promise. So tell me about you. I miss you.”
“Miss you too.”
“Are you writing any new songs?”
“Some,” Remy lied. He glanced at his guitar, perched in the corner.
It had been too long since he wrote his last hit. He needed more. The fans demanded more or they might find somebody else. God, there was always somebody new on the scene. Somebody younger than him, hungrier than him. Fucking babies.
On the closed Disney set, he’d been comfortable in his career. But from the first grueling tour, Remy had often puked his guts out before going onstage. Somehow he’d managed to hide this night after night. He loved playing live, loved the attention, and he loved getting absorbed in the songs, but his need to be the best always made him anxious about the concerts. He was fine on the actual stage; it was the before and after that ripped at him.
He learned to cope over the years, swallowing the edge of his panic, trying to use the energy in his performances. Finally, after struggling, Remy had gotten to the place where the before part was tolerable. Then Athens happened.
His tricks no longer worked. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw that horrible night and how he failed. Buddy could only hold off on his concerts for so long. Then what would he do?
I can say no.
But it wasn’t a word he was comfortable with.
“I miss the days you played for just me and Dad.”
Remy’s throat tightened. He missed those days too. Middle school might have been hell, full of jocks and jerks, but at home his parents had always given Remy a safety net. Until his dad died….
His songs back then had been alternative musings, then after his dad’s death, edgier stuff. But then one day after a long rehearsal for High School Heroes he wrote a silly song for the cast, and his career was launched—on a song he never particularly liked.
“Maybe I made a mistake letting you go to work at such a young age when Dad passed. There should have been more time for you to be just a kid.”
No, not this again.
Remy groaned. “Please hear me, okay? You don’t have to feel guilty for anything. It’s what I wanted, Ma. What I begged you both for.”
“But you missed out on so much. Normal things. I blame myself.”
“I wanted to play. The show made me happy. My career made me happy.”
“Past tense?” his mom asked quietly.
Despair tugged at Remy. On the surface he always played to his im
age—being confident, even cocky—but the music and his connection to it ran so much deeper. “Ma, can we talk about this tomorrow?”
She hesitated, her eyes still full of questions.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised.
“Okay, sweetheart. Love you.” She blew him a kiss goodbye before signing off.
Remy lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His experiences of being bullied and being a lonely kid weren’t unusual. Neither were the things that had gone wrong for Remy since then—his father’s death, no-good lovers, and now crippling stage fright. The difference was his losses were more high profile than most people’s, but that hardly made them unique.
Yes, he’d missed out on what others might call normal. He’d never done many birthday parties, no proms, and no graduation. Did a part of him wonder what it might have been like? Yes. Would he change the past? No fucking way. It was the future that worried him.
Chapter Five
TO no surprise, Jed was already gone when Remy woke the next morning. As usual, Remy hadn’t slept well. He considered taking an Ambien, which he’d brought with him, but hesitated. He’d heard too many stories about them and nightmares. He had enough real-life nightmares lately; he didn’t need the manufactured kind.
As for Jed, Remy was pretty sure Jed wanted to avoid him, which was a fucking shame.
Showering when he had a buzz cut took no time at all, Remy found, although he still indulged in a long, hot shower because he loved the feel of the water on his skin.
The ranch was eerily quiet. For somebody sent here to escape and get a break from people, Remy found being alone a bit too unsettling. Thank God for the animals. Oscar ate breakfast with him, and Remy hoped Jed had no objections to a cat on his counter since Oscar had few boundaries—he believed every place was his domain—while Hagrid plopped at Remy’s feet, having eaten way before them.
After cleaning the kitchen, which he’d neglected to do the previous evening, Remy sat on the porch swing with his guitar and some blank sheet music. He kicked to get the swing moving, chewing the stub of his pencil. He tried to find a rhythm. It was an incredible day. Just the right amount of breeze and sun. Christ, it was the perfect setting, yet the music wasn’t coming to him. Here he was, in the place supposed to fix him, away from crowds, away from the ugliness he’d faced, and—
Rocking the Cowboy Page 6
