She’d seen others not recover at all.
The green room wasn’t like it used to be in the early days. No booze, no groupies, no hanger-ons. Just the band and the hardworking crew tearing down the stage and loading the trucks and buses.
Nathan, for all his posturing, babbled at Luke Casey like a longtime fanboy.
Iris introduced Mark to the guys and Miranda took a moment to observe.
She sat down on a couch that had hopefully been washed in the years that it had served in its capacity in the green room. But just in case, she perched near the edge and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, a content smile plastered on her face.
A tall blonde woman came into the room with a bags of catered food and Miranda recognized her as the same person who had gotten them from their seats and brought them to the green woman.
She wanted to say Lenny?
The way Luke Casey’s eyes followed her made Miranda wonder if maybe she was more than an assistant.
Interesting.
She’d have to ask him about that at Christmas.
The reminder that her boys would be home in a couple weeks filled her with fresh happiness.
She wondered if Ma knew yet.
Probably.
Stella O’Neil knew things without needing to be told.
It was a good thing she’d be home in a few days. She’d need to go shopping.
“You look happy.”
Miranda’s smile grew when Mike sat down beside her.
“You should talk,” she remarked, leaning into his side for a moment.
“Are you hungry or anything?” he asked, nodding to where the food was being passed out.
“No, Harrison sent us to dinner before the show.”
Mike nodded. “Glad you made it to the show. It’s been a long time.”
“I might have to make it a regular thing. You guys have got something going on here,” she teased.
Mike snickered and then shot her a wink. “We’re just doing our jobs.”
It was the distinct sound of his footsteps in the hall.
That’s what hit her first.
So familiar, so imprinted on her.
Involuntarily, she turned her head in the direction of the sound as it grew closer.
His frame entered the doorway and goosebumps rippled across her shoulders and down her arms. She was thankful to be wearing a jacket.
His eyes swept through the room and she waited for them to land on her. Every muscle fiber stretched tight as she held her breath.
That familiar scowl reached her and paused.
Her lips parted, about to say something. A greeting of some kind. But the last time she’d seen him came back to her in a rush and the words stuck in her throat.
A crew member crossed between them and drew Carl’s attention.
Miranda exhaled.
“You should go say hi,” Mike murmured by her side.
“What?” she shot him a surprised look.
“Yeah, just walk over, looking all gorgeous like you are, and say hi.” Mike bumped her knee with his.
“I obviously have no idea what you mean.” Miranda blinked and tried to find somewhere else in the room for her eyes to look but they just keep going back to Carl.
Okay. Sweat was gathering behind her knees.
Behind the knee sweat! Who does that?
“Obviously.” Mike snorted. “It would be weird if you didn’t say hi.”
“I’m sure he’s busy and anyway he probably doesn’t remember me anyhow so that would just be awkward and weird,” she said in a rush.
Mike barked a laugh and tried to hide it with a cough but ended up choking.
“Oh my God, please stop,” Miranda pleaded. “He’s looking. Okay. Now he’s coming over here.”
“Everything okay, Mike?” Carl asked but he hadn’t taken his eyes from Miranda.
“Yeah, sorry. I was just laughing at Miranda. She’s always been hilarious. But I’m sure you remember that,” Mike said.
The traitor.
She gave him the side-eye and he waggled his eyebrows at her as he stood up.
“I think I should probably get some food before Harrison eats it all.” Mike’s playful gaze bounced between Miranda and Carl (who was still staring!). “Carl, did you know that Miranda has never been on a catwalk in an auditorium this large? She was just telling me how she wished she knew how to get up there.”
Miranda’s eyes grew wide even as her mouth grew small.
What the hell was he doing?
Mike shrugged but his pale blue eyes danced playfully. “I wish I knew how to help you out, Ran. But it’s a mystery to me.”
She watched his back, imaging all the not-so-nice things she wanted to say to him. Later. When no one could hear her be mean. Also, she mentally scratched him off her Christmas list.
Feeling his gaze still on her she finally looked up at Carl. His eyes roamed her face, hair, body, all the way to her feet and back again.
A blush crept up her neck at his languid perusal.
“Nice jacket,” he said.
It wasn’t until that exact moment that she realized what she was wearing.
It was the leather jacket he had given her the first time he’d left to go on tour with the guys. Her most prized possession. It had become such a part of her that she actually forgot that he might still feel a claim to it.
But it wasn’t the jacket he was claiming with his dark eyes and smoldering scowl.
“Thank you,” she said, voice sticking in her throat.
He looked over his shoulder at where the rest of room’s occupants were chatting away. Miranda felt the absence of his gaze and took a free breath. But then he came back to her.
“I can show you the catwalks if you want.” His voice was just as scowling and dark as his expression. And her heart pounded in response.
When it came to Carl Darrow, Miranda could never explain her responses. It was as if he brought out all the emotions she’d worked so hard to tame. He set them free and they ran wild.
What she should have done was politely decline (because she was on a freaking date). But instead, she glanced at where Nate-the-Date was gesticulating in the way he did on television.
“How have you been, Carl?” she asked, changing the subject.
He lifted his chin, his expression closing. Nit that it had been overly open before, but it was less so now.
“I’ve been just fine,” he said flatly.
Nate, Luke and Sway joined them in that moment.
“Miranda,” Nate said excitedly. “Luke Casey said he’d take me to see the tour buses. Can you believe that? I’ve always wanted to see what the inside of a tour bus looks like.”
Luke chuckled patiently and Miranda shot him a smile of thanks.
They were such good guys. They didn’t have to indulge her and her guests but they did it anyway because it’s just who they were.
“You wanna come too, Ran?” Luke asked.
She shook her head. “No thanks, I’ll see it some other time.”
Nate, Luke, and Sway left out the side door.
Carl had backed away from the conversation and was now talking to Iris and Harriosn. He laughed at something Iris said and a holed opened up right through the middle of her. Remember when he used to love you?
All too well.
“Miranda!” Iris called her over to them.
Miranda stood and moved their direction. When she was close enough, Iris looped an arm through hers and pulled her close. Miranda smiled nervously, trying to recalibrate her thoughts and feelings into a more realistic rhythm.
“Did you see Carl?” Iris asked excitedly.
“Um, yeah.” Miranda nodded. “It’s Carl.”
“I didn’t recognize him at first.” Iris beamed at Carl and tightened her grip on Miranda. “That’s a compliment, by the way. “You’re so…” She made a clicking nose behind her teeth. “What’s the word, Ran?”
Hot.
“Ol
d and grumpy?”
Iris giggled and Carl’s lips twitched.
“I guess I finally aged into my personality,” Carl said with a smirk.
“Well, it’s working for you.” Iris nudged Miranda. “Can you believe he actually remembered me? Geez, that feels like a million years ago.”
Miranda could feel his eyes on her again.
“I remember things,” Carl said solidly.
It was a simple statement, but it felt loaded. Like he was in the process of remembering all the things.
She pressed her lips together and swallowed.
“Hey,” Harrison broke the silence. “Mike was saying that you wanted to see the stage from the top. You know, Carl has access to that area. I’m sure he’d be more than willing to show you the best view in the house.”
“What a great idea!” Iris agreed eagerly.
“Yeah?” Miranda narrowed her eyes at her friend. “You want to come with?”
“Nope.” Iris shrugged. “Afraid of heights. But you should do that. While you have a chance.” She said more with her eyes. Miranda couldn’t be sure what it was but it looked like, take a hint, dummy.
“Iris, can you help me with something?” Harrison asked, gesturing with his head for her to follow him.
“I would love to help you with something,” Iris replied, following him.
Leaving her and Carl alone again.
Not alone alone, because there were still people in the green room.
But alone enough that it felt on purpose.
“Why are they being weird?” Carl asked straight out with his trademark frown.
It was just he perfect thing to say and Miranda barked a laugh.
“I think they think we need to talk.” She lifted shoulder and when she dropped it, she also dropped all the hesitation she’d been carrying. “Will you show me the catwalk, Carl?”
He smirked, his scowl softening. “Only for you.”
His response sent a shiver though her.
He walked backwards to a side door, keeping his eyes ever fixed on her.
The door let out into a dark hall and before her eyes adjusted, he had slipped a hand into hers.
The contact sent a spark of awareness through her body and she had to fight off the rush of emotion that followed.
“Watch where you step in those shoes. If you need me to slow down just say so.”
They went up some stairs, down another passage, and more stairs.
But Miranda wasn’t even aware of her surroundings. If Carl decided to leave her in the middle of the catacomb hallways backstage of the Kansas City auditorium, that was where she’d die. Because she had no idea where they were going or how to get back.
A youthful exuberance buzzed in her body and she grinned down at the walkway below her feet.
Her life was always well thought out and planned.
Plans made certain there was less disappoint and gave a clear direction.
But Carl wasn’t a planner. Never had been.
Which was interesting considering the career path he’d chosen. Rock Band tour managers needed to be organized. It was like the number one requirement.
But there was a flexibility and a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants that also came in handy.
He had that in spades.
It wasn’t that Carl didn’t make plans. It was that he didn’t fear having to change them.
Miranda wished she had that sort of courage.
They came to a stop and Miranda rocked back on her heels as she realized how high they were.
“Wow,” she breathed, letting go of Carl’s hand and gripping the guardrail so she could gaze down at the stage being torn apart. “This is kind of amazing. You guys have hella equipment.”
Carl snorted by her side and rested his forearms on the guardrail.
“We have a good crew. I remember the days when we had to do all our own hauling. That had been a bitch.”
She glanced at him and his feathery black lashes. They were still thick and black and longer than one would expect on a man with such a rough exterior.
The last vestiges of the youthful boy she’d once dated were long gone.
The man inside had broken through and was firmly settled in the driver’s seat.
Though that had become apparent when she’d met him in Germany.
For all his grumpiness and casual disregard, Miranda knew how important this tour had been to him.
“It was a beautiful show, Carl. You should be proud.”
A humorless smile touched his lips and his focus seemed to go far away.
He turned to face her, resting against the rail. She could feel the questions coming but now that they were alone, she didn’t fear them.
“Are you on a date?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered with a single nod. “It’s our second.” And their last. But she didn’t need to tell Carl that part.
“Do you live here now? In KC?” His face tightened in apprehension.
“No,” she said with a small smile.
His features relaxed.
“I took an offer to spend six months helping the Missouri State art agency set up classroom programs in some of the rural communities. Iris lives in KC so I just stayed with her. I go back home next week.”
“Still saving the world?”
“Trying to,” she answered with a sigh. “It’s a big job though.”
“You know you saved mine.” His mouth curved into a phantom of a smile. “I’ll always be grateful.”
Her heart lurched and she gripped the railing tighter as her hands got shaky.
“Carl…”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I just thought it was something you should know.” But there was a disappointment in his tone that she couldn’t ignore.
He took a deep breath. His lips twitched and he looked back to the stage. It was almost clear.
“Time to go.”
He took her hand and led her back to the green room at a much slower pace.
What did he want her to say?
Was he mad that she’d left without saying goodbye in Germany? He hadn’t even asked about it. He had the opportunity and didn’t take it. Did that mean he agreed with her leaving? Would he have done the same?
Right before they opened the door to the green room with all those questions swirling through her mind, he stopped them and backed her against the wall.
“Carl,” she whispered, surprised at his nearness. Her blood hummed in her veins when she caught his scent—leather, tabaco, mint, and Old Spice. When she’d been younger, that combination had caused erratic heart beats. Now that she was a woman…
Freaking hell.
She was on the verge of needing a defibrillator.
“Miranda,” he whispered back.
With that one word she was melting inside.
She closed her eyes to escape his gaze and he brushed his nose along her temple, his lips coming dangerously close to the shell of her ear.
“This is it. We walk back through that door and back to our lives. Is there anything you want to tell me?” His free hand brushed her hair away and curved gently around her neck. His thumb stroked her pulse point. “Don’t act like you can’t say it,” he murmured in her ear. “It’s me.”
She opened her eyes and he studied her in the dim lighting, not looking away, just watching as she struggled to keep from flying apart.
Because he was right.
She had things to say. But no words to use to say them.
How do you tell a person that the moment they walked into the room she’d wanted to run away with him.
No one in her life caused such feelings to exist in her.
She was a reasonable, rational, adult woman.
Until it involved Carl Darrow.
Then she was just a human shaped heart walking around.
“You’re staring at me again,” she said.
He chuckled darkly. “Not staring, remember? Adoring.”
; Her breath arrested in her lungs and her heart pounded erratically.
She squeezed his hand as if to translate what her mouth could not and started to lean towards him. Maybe the words didn’t need to be thee. Maybe she could kiss him and let that say what she couldn’t.
A throat clearing drew her attention to their left and she realized the door had opened.
“Uh, do you guys need a minute?”
It was Harrison.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Miranda pulled away from Carl so fast she hit the back of her head on the wall behind her. His hands left her and she immediately felt the absence of their warmth.
“Shit, are you okay?” Harrison fought a laugh and entered the small hallway.
“Yeah,” She reached up to rub the sore spot on the back of her head. Carl disappeared through the doorway. “I was just being… stupid, is all.”
She sighed.
How had she let this happen?
Why did Carl always go right to the heart of her?
Because that’s where you keep him.
Oh hi, inner voice? Where have you been in the last twenty minutes? Coffee break?
“You and Carl…?” Harrison trailed off, letting his arched eyebrows ask the rest of the question.
She rolled her eyes and opened the door leading back into the green room.
What was up with everyone thinking there was something happening with her and Carl?
That had been over for years.
Except for that one time in Germany.
But never again! That had been the end!
Except for five seconds ago when she almost kissed him in the hallway.
“Time to go, kids,” Carl hollered into the green room. “There’s a storm coming and we need to get on the road.” He paused when his gaze landed on Miranda. “It was nice to see you again, Miranda. Hope all that works out for you.”
“Carl,” she said, stepping toward him.
He glanced at the remaining band and crew who had grown quiet with her call.
She licked her lips and tried to ignore the audience.
“You have something to say?” he asked, his dark eyes boring into her.
She had one million things to say and no words.
None.
When that became apparent, he grimaced and walked away.
And Miranda let him go.
Chapter 3
Matter of Fact Page 3
