The Complete Tempest World Box Set

by Mankin, Michelle

  “Your grandmother sounds like my kinda woman.” That intensity was back with him again and my stomach got all fluttery.

  “I miss Meemaw.” My son’s voice quavered with emotion. A glance in his direction confirmed what I feared, big fat tears spilling down his cheeks. I pushed back my chair and went to him, pulling him into my chest.

  “I miss her too.” The words came out of my throat with effort. The familiar dread crept over my body again when suddenly a pair of warm strong arms wrapped around both of us. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to accept the comfort Justin was offering, but I did. His heat dissolved the cold and as he squeezed tighter, I closed my eyes, sank back into him, and let his strength wash over me.

  It only lasted a few moments, but in those moments my mind rested within the edges of something pure and peaceful. Something I had once possessed and lost a long, long time ago.

  “I’m ok, Mommy.” Carter wiped his face with the back of his hands and put on a brave face. I kissed his wet cheek and eased back from him as Justin released us.

  I found myself not wanting to let go. But I knew I had to. I was all too well acquainted with losing, and I wasn’t willing to risk my heart again.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Justin

  “Yo, Rojo.” King called from behind me, punctuating his words with a drum roll on the studio snare.

  I turned around, tucking my pick inside my pocket so I could flex my fingers. They were pretty cramped up. I was used to practicing every day, but not like this. We’d been in the studio for hours for several days now, working on the Tempest set list. We were all starting to get sick of the repetition.

  I wasn’t surprised to see frustration evident on our drummer’s face. “Don’t forget to give me a visual cue before you start ‘My Way,’ alright?”

  “Sure. Sorry.”

  His chin dipped. “De nada.” He put his sticks down, reached down behind the kit, and came back up with a bottled water in his fist. I didn’t sweat the criticism. It was constructive and anyway you pretty much knew where you stood with King. If he didn’t like something, he told you straight out. No bullshit. I’d been around long enough now to have experienced his legendary quick fuse, but I’d also discovered that he was just quick to get over whatever had made him mad in the first place, which made the temper thing a lot easier to tolerate.

  “I thought it sounded better that time.” I turned toward Bryan, surprised to receive any encouragement from our lead guitarist.

  Hell, I sure hoped it did. That was about the hundredth time we’d done that song. He unclipped his Les Paul, and I sighed inwardly. I wasn’t going to read too much into it though. I got the feeling that I would always be on the outside looking in where he was concerned.

  “I say we call it a day,” Bryan glanced around, looking to the others for a consensus. Dizzy nodded his spiky blond head. Sager grabbed his newsboy cap and put it on, and King immediately kicked back from his stool and stood.

  It was unanimous, then.

  Thank God. I was worn out from the pressure of being under the gun all week. I’d been so full of confidence after the tryout, but actually attempting to walk around in Warren Jinkins’ shoes was another thing entirely. The first couple of times the guys and I had gotten together, I’d tried to imitate War’s style and technique, guttural yells and everything, but even before Dizzy pulled me aside, I’d known that it was lame.

  “Just be yourself, man,” Dizzy had told me. “Do it like you did during the audition.”

  Practice had gone much better after I’d followed that advice. But we still weren’t there. We had a long way to go before we were a cohesive unit. Bryan was obviously the crux of the problem. He’d become the de facto leader of the group after War left, and that was ok, except that the toxic vibe leeching off him was poisoning everything and everyone else around him. Not much I did seemed to meet with his approval. I was going to have to do something about that. I just hadn’t figured out what yet.

  I closed the latches on my case and my thoughts sprinted down the well-worn path straight to Bridget. She was the other reason I felt so tightly strung. I’d dropped by her apartment every day since that night with her and Carter down at the pool. But I’d missed her… every single time. I knew she was working at a coffeehouse up the street and was busy with Carter in school, but I was beginning to suspect she was actually avoiding me for some reason.

  I hadn’t pushed it because I knew she would have to see me tonight. It was Friday and at seven I was going to give Carter his first guitar lesson.

  I held back inside the studio, watching as the guys filed out. They were off to the Diamond Mine to play some pool. The four of them were tight, at ease as they talked loudly and made plans for the upcoming weekend. I tried not to let it get to me that they didn’t think to include me.

  I snagged my leather jacket from the chair where I’d tossed it earlier, strode through the quiet shadowed empty downstairs corridor of Black Cat, and passed the abandoned reception desk. Karen was long gone for the day. It was well past regular office hours.

  I threw a leg over my motorcycle, fired it up, and soon felt better once I was out of the garage and had the icy wind whipping across my face. I leaned forward, accelerated, and weaved in and out of traffic on my way back to downtown, my mood improving the closer I got to the Sutton.

  I parked the Triumph, pocketed the key, and hit the elevator. By the time I entered my apartment and began straightening the living area my pulse was all jacked up with anticipation. I’d only just stowed the last big pile of dirty clothes in the closet when the doorbell buzzed.

  Shit.

  I glanced around the apartment. It was still a little disorderly, but what the hell. If things went the way I wanted them to go, she wouldn’t even notice. I peeked at the time on my cell on the way to the door. She was five minutes early. My lips curved. Maybe she wasn’t avoiding me after all.

  A grin of anticipation in place, I yanked the apartment door open. Lace was standing out in the corridor with Carter by her side, but Bridget was nowhere in sight. My smile turned into a displeased frown.

  Lace gave me a puzzled look. “Don’t you have a lesson with Carter this evening?”

  “Yeah.” I raked a hand through my hair and waved them both inside. “How ya doing, buddy?” I asked him, striving for a light tone to hide the disappointment churning in my gut.

  “Ok,” he replied softly without looking up. His chin seemed to be glued to his chest. Apparently someone else wasn’t in a happy mood tonight either.

  Wondering what was up, I let him wander in ahead of Lace and me. “What’s wrong with Carter?”

  “I don’t know what’s going on with him.” Her lips flattened as she glanced over at Carter who had taken a seat on the couch and was staring down at his lap. He appeared so dejected. It made me sad just to look at him. “He’s been really quiet the last several days.” Her gaze shifted back to me, her eyes assessing.

  “Where’s Bridget?” I asked in a confidential tone.

  “I’m helping Gigi out. She’s catching up on laundry tonight.”

  I could certainly understand the necessity of that, but the timing seemed too coincidental in my mind.

  “Why do you want to know, anyway?” she asked astutely as she continued scrutinizing me. “Ah.” One of her honey blond brows rose. “You like her, JJ,” she decided in a teasing lilt. “You were expecting her to bring Carter over. So that’s why you’ve been over at my place every day this week. And here I thought it was because you enjoyed my stellar company.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Carter,” I called out, and he looked up. “You and I’ll get started in a sec. I just need to have a quick word with Lace out in the hall.” I put my hands on her shoulders steering her toward the door, pulling it almost closed as soon as we were through it.

  “Don’t worry.” Lace’s expression had turned as serious as her tone. “I’m not saying a thing to her. But I think you should know upfront that she’s b
een treated pretty poorly in the past. Carter’s dad is a real ass. If you’re interested in her because you want to tool her around or make her some kind of trophy to add to your wall, I really wish you wouldn’t.”

  “I’m not.” And that was the truth. I realized it as soon as the words left my mouth. That might have been part of my motivation in the beginning, but things were definitely different now.

  “Really?” Lace gave me another narrow eyed assessment. I could tell she was working something out in her mind. Whatever she decided, she was nodding as she moved away. “You and Carter have a good time tonight.” Her voice drifted back to me over her shoulder. “Bring him to my place when you’re done. I’m not sure if Bridget will be around, but Bryan and I are staying in for the evening.”

  She disappeared inside her apartment and I went back in mine. Carter was in the exact same spot that I’d left him in. I don’t think he’d moved even an inch. I felt my brows come together. I didn’t think it was usual for any five year old boy to be so still for so long.

  I plucked my guitar off its stand before moving to take a seat beside him. “How was your first week of school?” I asked studying his profile, belatedly realizing he hadn’t changed out of white polo and khaki school uniform.

  “Ok.” He didn’t look at me. His eyes remained on his lap. That wasn’t like him at all, and it was the second time I’d gotten that same kind of vague response from him.

  My eyes narrowed. Obviously something was wrong. I didn’t know a whole lot about kids, but I thought maybe if I shared something first then he might loosen up and talk to me. “I don’t know about you, buddy, but I’ve had a really rough week with the band.”

  That got his attention. His blue eyes met mine and he slowly blinked up at me. I took that as a good sign and continued, “But I got through it because I’ve been really looking forward to hanging out with you.”

  Carter chewed on his lip. I noticed that his bottom one had a few scabs on it. Seemed as if he’d been gnawing it up pretty good. I was fairly certain it hadn’t looked like that earlier in the week.

  I decided on the straightforward approach. “Something bothering you, buddy?”

  His eyes went back to his lap, and his straight platinum hair swished back and forth as he shook his head in vigorous denial.

  I sighed. I was at a complete loss. “If you don’t want to talk about it right now, that’s ok, but if you change your mind just remember that I’m a pretty good listener, alright?”

  He nodded.

  “Let’s go ahead and give this a try then.” I put my guitar in his lap.

  He put his hands in the right position, one on the neck, one on the body, right off the bat. His lips curved into a small smile, and his shoulders seemed to relax a little.

  I bet he’d been watching Bryan all week. I scooted in closer, then realized we had a problem. “Uh-oh. I think your fingers are too small for my guitar, Carter.”

  “I’m not little,” he protested, his lip jutting out.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you are,” I replied carefully. “We’re just going to have to put off our lesson until we can get you a smaller guitar, one that fits your hand better.”

  “Ok.” His disappointment was easy to read. “I wanted to play something for my mom.” He thrust the guitar back at me and turned his head to the side, but I caught a glimpse of the threatening tears glassing up his eyes.

  Holy hell. It definitely wasn’t ok. “How about I show you a few basic chords tonight? And then tomorrow I’ll take you shopping, and we’ll get you a guitar of your own?”

  Finally I received a genuine smile. One that lit up Carter’s lightly freckled face and made his eyes sparkle. I didn’t realize how tightly wound I’d been until my muscles loosened in response to it.

  We worked together for a while, and I was pleased to discover that Carter was an attentive pupil, listening, absorbing, and applying everything I taught him. I was even able to tease him out of his funk, earning another grin with my efforts. I thoroughly enjoyed the lesson.

  When our time was up, I grabbed the guitar neck in one hand and Carter’s hand in the other. “Let’s go find your mom, buddy. I wanna see her face when you show her what you’ve already learned.”

  Lace answered the door when I knocked. I smiled at her as I took in her appearance. Obviously she and Bryan had been busy. Her lips looked thoroughly kissed, her hair was messed up, and her shirt was buttoned unevenly.

  Lace rolled her eyes in silent response to my quirked brow. “Bridget’s in her room folding clothes,” she told us as she led us in.

  Bryan was lounging on the sofa in the living room. He looked like a happy man, and only had eyes for Lace. He put his legs up on the coffee table and patted a spot on the couch beside him. Clearly he was ready to start right back up where they had left off, and Lace didn’t hesitate. Without another word, she rounded the coffee table and resumed her position beside him.

  With Carter’s small hand still in mine, I continued down the hall. I heard her as we passed the kitchen and a moment later we traced the sound to its source.

  Bridget.

  She was whistling the tune to “Blackbird.” Her back was to us in the doorway and her hips were swaying enticingly. I vaguely noted the huge pile of folded clothes on the bed in front of her.

  “Hey, Mom.” Carter released my hand and hopped onto the bed.

  Bridget’s arms quickly shot out to steady the now swaying pile and kept it from tumbling over. She must’ve sensed my presence because she turned, and her cheeks blushed a becoming shade of pink. “Hello, Justin,” she managed after a prolonged pause during which she reached up a hand and smoothed her hair. The bangs had been slightly mussed as if she’d repeatedly run her fingers through them.

  “Hello, Bridget,” I returned just as formally, though I wasn’t pleased that she seemed to want to go back to pretending we were distant acquaintances. She’d have to be encased in glass not to feel the connection between us. “How was your week?”

  “Fine, but too long,” she admitted.

  “Mine, too,” I allowed, continuing to watch her, wondering why she was acting like this. Carter bounced on the bed. She gave him the same adoring look that I was becoming fond of.

  “Carter did real well on his first lesson,” I informed her. “He picks things up with very little instruction.”

  “Watch what I can do, Mom.” Carter held out his hands, and I handed him the guitar. He balanced the instrument on his lap and strummed through the chords I had taught him. I took advantage of the opportunity to examine her while he played. She seemed slightly pale beneath her light tan. There were dark smudges under her eyes as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. That wasn’t really surprising. She had to be completely overwhelmed being a single mom in an unfamiliar place with Carter at a new school, and her starting a job. I really didn’t know how she managed to do it all by herself, especially knowing how hard her grandmother’s death had hit her.

  The more I learned about Bridget, the more my admiration for her grew. Stronger, more unfamiliar feelings were beginning to grow as well.

  Carter gave his mom an expectant look when he finished playing.

  “That was awesome, kiddo.”

  He frowned. “Don’t call me that,” he muttered in a sullen tone. “I’m not a baby.”

  “I know you aren’t.” I could tell from the crease that formed between her eyes that she was just as much at a loss trying to figure out what was going on with him as I was.

  “I’d like to take him to the music store in the morning,” I offered in an effort to dispel the tension. I took the instrument from Carter’s outstretched hands. “He really should have a guitar of his own. One that’s better suited to his size. Maybe we could all go together and eat lunch afterward.”

  I could tell by the way she looked at me that my offer had the opposite effect from what I’d intended. She’d clearly become irritated. “We can’t afford an expense like that right now, Justin.
Not after the plane tickets to Vancouver and everything else.”

  I saw the disappointment on Carter’s face as he lowered his head.

  She saw it, too. “I’m sorry, Carter.” Her expression softened and she crouched down in front of him, putting her hands on top of his clasped ones. “Maybe we can manage to get one in a couple of months.”

  I felt a sharp pain in my chest watching them. This was killing me. “I think you misunderstood. I meant to buy it for him,” I began. “As a gift.”

  “No.” Her refusal was immediate, her eyes turning as hard as the aquamarine gems they resembled. “Carter,” she called, but didn’t look at him because her gaze remained locked on mine. “I want you to go in the kitchen and get your dinner. I wrapped it in plastic wrap. It’s on the counter. Sit down and eat it at the table, ok?”

  “Yes, Mom,” he replied obediently, leaving the room with his feet doing a slow shuffle, but without arguing. The sad look on his face wrenched the dagger in my heart another turn.

  “I appreciate your offer.” Bridget rounded on me with fire shining in her eyes. “But we don’t need your charity. If we don’t have the money for something, we don’t get it. Simple as that. Carter knows the drill. He understands that sometimes we have to wait for things.”

  “It’s not charity,” I said spacing out the words slowly while feeling my blood pressure rise. I was starting to get irritated myself. “I like him, and he really does need one for our lessons. We could keep it at my apartment if that makes you feel better.” I took a step toward her, but she backed away. So I followed. We did this back and forth pattern several times with her looking nervous and me determined until the wall effectively cut off her retreat.

  I leaned forward, placing my palms on the wall behind her head. While I had her pinned in, I noted how much I liked the difference in our heights, the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, and… well, just about everything about her.