by Amy Knupp
She typed, I’m awake. Still pissed.
I know. We need to talk. In person. I fly home to Houston tomorrow and I don’t want to fight with you.
Her anger ebbed a little, because their time was limited. Always so limited. They saw each other every three or four months, usually when her brother could schedule a flight through LA in the midst of his business travel, and she didn’t know how easy that would be anymore since she’d be living in Nashville instead.
Fine, she typed. I’m in a bakery on Hale Street called Sugar Babies. Can you find that?
I think I can manage that. Do they have blueberry muffins?
Yep.
Grab me one and I’ll be there in fifteen.
After buying his breakfast and setting it across from her, she replied to several business emails on her phone—one to Cora, her boss, and two to resort people for Ellie Grant’s honeymoon, one of which had mentioned the possibility of flying Mackenzie there for a tour. She’d love to go—it was something she did whenever possible so she could develop closer relationships with resort staff and assure herself the high-dollar honeymoons she coordinated went as flawlessly as possible—but it depended on whether she could make it work, time wise, as she got business rolling in Nashville.
She happened to glance up as her brother walked by the bakery window, heading for the entrance, and she forced her mind from work to take in a deep breath and fight down the lingering irritation with him.
Ezra searched her out with his gaze as soon as he was in the door and then headed toward her. Despite her annoyance, she looked him over as he approached, since she hadn’t really had the chance last night and hadn’t seen him for four months before that.
He was dressed casually, in jeans and a camel-colored sweater. His dark hair was the same as always, a little longer on top but well groomed, with facial hair that was more than a scruff but not quite a full beard. His tall, wiry body didn’t hold an ounce of fat and it was obvious he still worked out, probably too much if she knew him. As he neared the table, she took in the fatigue in his eyes, not just from fighting with his best friend last night but more of an ongoing weariness. It wasn’t surprising considering the nonstop traveling, all in the name of work, that he did, but it concerned her and softened her even more toward him.
“Ez,” she said, standing and stepping into his embrace. He might be overbearing at times, but she loved him fiercely.
He kissed her forehead as they ended the hug. “Hey, you. It’s good to see you.” He held her back and looked her up and down quickly. “The move to Nashville is agreeing with you?”
“So far so good,” she said as they sat, he in the chair across from hers. “The city’s changed a lot—like this street, for example—but it still feels like home in a way LA never can.”
“First time I’ve been here.” He gestured to the street. “It looks lively. Thanks for the muffin, Kenz,” he said as he turned his attention to it and split it in half.
“You’re welcome. Ezra—” she said, reaching her limit on small talk when she was still annoyed beneath the surface.
“Look, I’m sorry our reunion last night was ruined. I flew in just to see you and wanted to surprise you—”
“Oh, you did,” she said, eyeing him unapologetically. “You need to understand a few things.”
“What I understand is that Drake is not the right kind of guy for you, Kenz.”
Just like that, her irritation was back up, nearing a ten. She bit down on it momentarily, to avoid making a scene, and instead, after sucking in a breath, she said in a mostly calm tone, “I know what kind of guy he is. He’s not a relationship guy.”
“Yes.”
“Women are like a hobby for him.”
“Yes.”
“He’s too charming for his own good, and funny and fun.”
“Yes.”
“Sort of irresistible,” she said, catching herself slipping into a smile as she remembered the flirtatious look on his face several times in the past week when they’d bantered, over movies, books, food, and any number of other topics.
“That much was clear,” Ezra said in a hard voice. “Mackenzie, what are you doing with him? You know you can’t change him, right?”
She scowled at him. “I’m not trying to change him. How stupid do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re stupid, but messing around with him… You know he’s my best friend, but he is not the right guy for you.”
“Not the right guy for what?” she said, her volume rising, generating a couple of looks of interest from the people around them, which was enough to make her reel it in again. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Ezra, reality check. I’m twenty-five, not fifteen. I’ve had boyfriends and I’ve had one-night stands.” She said it for the shock value, her anger propelling her beyond the discomfort of talking about her sex life with her brother. “That’s what Drake was, and I knew it and he knew it and we were fine with it, and then you came butting in and messing everything up because you think…what? I need to be saved?” She glanced around again, assuring herself the onlookers were no longer paying attention to them. “Here’s the truth: I’m the one who started it. Not him. As he pointed out, he gave in, but he was not the pursuer. So you can quit being mad at him.”
Ezra took a large bite of his muffin as he let what she’d said sink in. After he swallowed, he swigged some coffee, then set his cup down. “Really?” he finally said.
“Really. Why would I make that up?”
“I’m sorry,” he said after another hesitation. “I forget you’re a capable adult sometimes. I’ll always want to protect you from the bad stuff, and Drake would be bad for a girl who’s looking for any sort of relationship.”
“I’m not that girl. I don’t want a relationship. I’d think you would understand more than most that what I want is some stability, and that’s why I moved back to Nashville. I want to settle down, by myself, because from what I’ve seen, having a guy in my life does not lead to any kind of stability.”
Ezra nodded, and she could see in his eyes he did understand. To them, after growing up with their family life, a dad who’d left before Mackenzie was four and a mom who’d been about as stable as the fluff of a cottony dandelion, standing on their own two feet was the only way to guard against upheaval.
“Where are you staying now?” he asked once his dainty porcelain plate was empty.
“The Wentworth for another three hours or so. What about you?”
“I got a room downtown, in case you or Drake or both wanted to hit Broadway tonight.”
“I would, unless he goes,” she muttered.
“I won’t be asking him.”
“Better idea,” she said, remembering a tabletop sign at Clayborne’s last night. “Steele Hearts is playing tonight, across the street at Clayborne’s. I met some people last night and I could see if I can get us in.”
“Steele Hearts? Aren’t they a little big for playing bars?”
“From what I gather, Sloan, the Clayborne’s entertainment manager, is tight with Tucker Steele and his fiancée, so they sometimes play there.”
“I’d love to see them. Maybe I’ll switch to the Wentworth.”
“And I’ll switch to not the Wentworth. In fact,” she said, pulling her phone out and checking the time, “I need to get going. I have a lot of work to finish before checkout.”
“Don’t stay with Drake again, Kenz.”
“Ezra!” She threw her head back in exasperation. “What part don’t you get? I’m not about to.” She stood and picked up her trash and plate, grabbed her bag, then spun on her heel toward the trash station near the counter. Ezra was following her but she didn’t care. She headed for the door, then burst out onto the sidewalk and turned toward the hotel.
It only took a few seconds for her brother to catch up.
“I’m sorry, Mackenzie,” he said, falling into step beside her. “I get it. That popped out before my brain engaged.” When she kep
t walking, he reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her, and she allowed him to, facing him as they stood in front of the recording studio next to the diner. Ezra nodded as if he was silently running the facts through his head. “I won’t bring it up again. Come on.” He nodded toward the Wentworth. “You have work to do today. I have some calls to make. Let’s go to the hotel and I’m going to get a room for me and pay for yours until your apartment’s ready. Tonight we’ll go see Steele Hearts if you can get us in.”
“Is paying for my room your penance?” she asked, her lips playing with a sorta smile.
He studied her for a few seconds, and then, as if he knew that was the only way to get her to agree, he said, “Absolutely.”
“You realize how much you’re going to pay, right?” He could afford it just fine, a hundred times over, which was the only reason she’d allow him to do it.
Ezra pulled her into a side hug and started them walking down the sidewalk again. “You’re worth it, brat. Whether we can get in to see Steele Hearts or not, we’ll have a good time.”
Mackenzie soaked in the contentment of having her brother beside her, taking care of her in a sense, and solving her dilemma of where to stay for the next few nights. Her day was stacked, and not having to find a different hotel and move would let her get more of her to-do list done so she could play tonight.
As they crossed the street toward the main doors of the hotel, she allowed herself to hope that some quality brother time would help her keep her mind off everything else. Everyone else. Because Drake “I made a mistake” North did not deserve her time or her energy or even her thoughts.
Chapter Twelve
As Drake drove his Jeep down Hale Street Friday morning, keeping an eye out for a parking spot, he didn’t have a plan. Just a goal.
He’d only found out where Mackenzie was staying a couple of hours ago, thanks to Cole showing up at the gym for their early-morning workout and giving him crap about “running Mackenzie off.” Apparently Mackenzie and Sierra had been in frequent contact since Wednesday night, and Cole had heard enough to give Drake intel, even if Cole didn’t realize that was what he was doing.
Mackenzie was giving Drake the big blow off, but he’d learned she was staying at the Wentworth. She and Ez seemed to have made peace and had gone to see Steele Hearts at Clayborne’s last night. For Mackenzie’s sake, Drake was glad to hear they’d worked things out, even if he himself still wanted to punch Ezra.
As he neared the end of the lively block-long street, the flower shop on the corner caught his attention. Flowers. Yes.
He ended up parking in the public garage behind the Wentworth, and a few minutes later, Drake hurried through the drizzle to Buds ’N Blooms. He paused as his eyes and senses adjusted to the wood-floored flower market. It was a kaleidoscope of colors and greenery, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers and plants.
“Good morning.” The voice was female but had a lower timbre and a roughness, as if she was a smoker or just not awake yet.
“Hello,” Drake said as he spotted her in all the colorful chaos. It was no mystery why it’d taken him a second—the clerk behind the counter had a head full of bubblegum-pink hair, which went right along with the bundles of colorful flowers throughout.
“What can I help you with today?” the girl said as she stuck a stem of greenery into a vase among a spray of vivid orange and yellow blooms.
He pivoted, taking in the dozens of options—from buckets of single-stem flowers to floor-to-ceiling coolers of elaborate arrangements to racks of gift items and cards. “I don’t know.” He was no stranger to buying flowers. A bundle of tulips for his mom, roses to impress a date, a vase of spring blooms to butter up Vera, the office manager at the gym. But there were so many choices here, and they needed to be just right. “I’m at your mercy,” he said, giving her his winningest smile, “in dire need of your expertise.”
“Well,” the girl, who was early twenties or so, average height, and wearing a delicate pink sweater that matched her hair, plus black skinny jeans and black combat boots, said as she came out from behind the counter, “who are you buying for?”
“A friend,” he said easily.
“A female friend?” She eased up next to him, warmth emanating from her eyes, and he read the name on her name tag—Jadyn.
“Yes.”
“So red roses and chrysanthemums are out,” Jadyn said to herself as she looked around at all the options. “Unless…is it strictly platonic?”
Damn good question. “Not strictly,” Drake said after half a second’s thought. To hide his uncharacteristic unease, he flashed her a self-deprecating grin. “It’s complicated.”
“Which is why you’re here,” she said knowingly. “Because flowers can cut to the chase and say things that you can’t even get straight in your head.”
Drake’s brows rose and he nodded. “That’s exactly what I need.”
“So a friend but not strictly platonic. Caring but not in love?” She went to a bucket of pink tulips and plucked out three perfect blooms.
“Yes,” Drake said easily.
“Attraction though?”
Drake held back a scoff at the word attraction. It wasn’t strong enough for what he’d suffered through for the week Mackenzie had been sleeping under his roof. But… “Sure. There’s an attraction,” he managed to say without giving away more. He wouldn’t admit out loud that he’d gone home alone last night in spite of plenty of female attention at the bar and his burning desire to get Mackenzie out of his head.
Jadyn picked out some small yellow and white flowers that looked like miniature tightly petaled roses. “These are supposed to say I’m dazzled by you.”
Drake narrowed his eyes, took in the small flowers again, and shrugged. “I don’t know if I’ve ever used the word dazzled, but okay.”
“You want to sleep with her, right?” Jadyn said, pausing in her flower selection to gaze at him.
“Well…” Drake laughed at himself. What the hell. If a bouquet of flowers could fix things with Mackenzie, he might as well give Jadyn more to go on. “She’s my best friend’s younger sister.” Possibly former best friend.
“Oooh,” Jadyn said, switching course from a bucket of stems that had multiple coral-colored blooms on them and taking a step back. “So she’s off-limits.”
“She was.” Right now, he didn’t give a shit what Ezra thought. All he cared about was getting Mackenzie to listen to him, to let him apologize. He’d texted her multiple times yesterday, but each time, she’d ignored him or told him she couldn’t talk. She’d shut him down completely, and he wasn’t okay with that. “Look, I screwed up some stuff, so if you could sprinkle some I’m sorry into that along with all the other magic ingredients…”
Jadyn cracked a half grin and shook her head slowly at him, muttering something about how guys like him were the key to their business success, then turned toward the inventory and busied herself, putting some flowers back, selecting others, pausing every once in a while to eye the varied bunch that was growing in her hand.
“The purple ones are I’m sorry?” Drake asked, unsure if he bought into this whole language-of-flowers thing, but if it could help get Mackenzie to forgive him, he’d go with it.
“That’s right.”
“Maybe add some more?”
With a laugh, she said, “Aesthetics are important. A little dark purple goes a long way.” The pink-haired flower fairy carried all the blooms to a worktable behind the counter. “Do you want these in a vase or wrapped?”
“Vase, please. She’s staying at the Wentworth.”
“Fancy.”
“I don’t suppose you know an insider over there who would slip me her room number?” It didn’t hurt to ask.
Jadyn laughed at him, her hands moving quickly, arranging the bunch in the vase. “You’re so screwed.” After a few more adjustments and a final trim of a sprig of leaves, she set the vase on the counter next to the register. The finished bouque
t was a tasteful splash of pink and yellow and purple and white amid lush green accents.
As he handed over his card, he asked, “What are the big white ones?”
“Gardenias,” she said as she swiped his card and handed it back. “Traditionally a symbol of…secret love.” Her blond eyebrows rose and her eyes lit up.
“I’m not looking for anything that starts with L.”
She shrugged. “Well, they look good anyway, right?”
“Are you telling me your flowers don’t have magical powers after all?”
“I personally have no proof either way, but honestly, female point of view here, if you tell her you’re genuinely sorry and that you care about her and then flash her just the right smile—and don’t tell me you don’t know how to work those to your benefit—I think you’ll end up just fine.”
Drake studied her for a couple of seconds and finally said, “You’re very wise, pink-haired flower mage. I’ll do my best.”
With an engaging smile and a nod at her, he turned and headed out the door, toward the hotel, knowing full well, flower power or not, he had his work cut out for him.
Chapter Thirteen
Clayborne’s was rapidly becoming one of Mackenzie’s favorite places on the planet. Besides having really good bar food and hosting some excellent bands, it was also turning out to be her best source for potential new clients.
In addition to Jackson Lowell and Tucker Steele, both of whom Mackenzie now had appointments with next week, she’d met an agent friend of Sloan’s between sets last night. Dorian Bradley was in the market for a “magical, one-of-a-kind honeymoon” as a surprise for his fiancé, Eric, and couldn’t wait to meet with her to start the planning.
Mackenzie was going to owe Sloan and Sierra a half-dozen really nice dinners of thanks at this rate, and she would treat them with pleasure.
The Steele Hearts show had been unforgettable. The band was working on a new album and had played a couple of brand-new, never-heard-before songs as well as their biggest hits. For them to play in such a small, intimate venue made it all the more memorable. Going with Ez had been the cherry on the four-scoop sundae.
