Whiskey River Rockstar (Whiskey River Series Book 3) Page 12

  She caught the hesitation on the word, and he saw a spark of temper flash in her eyes. “What, you want me to love you?”

  A rueful smile curved his mouth, because his mind was yelling “Yes!”

  “Don’t worry,” he said aloud. “I know that isn’t going to happen.”

  “How would you know?” she said coolly. “You never asked.” Then her expression changed, almost matched his own rueful one. “But then, you never had to before, did you?”

  It took him a moment to get past the jagged shard of hope that had sliced into him at her first words. “No. Because I always knew.”

  She just looked at him, silently. And he had no more words, nothing to break the silence. It had never been awkward with Zee before, silence. In fact, some of his most treasured memories were of the times they’d been silent together, watching the river, or the clouds, or nothing. Or when they just looked at each other, with no need for words because it was all in their eyes, because it was in their hearts.

  He felt a vague twitch, the kind that once would have triggered him to remember those thoughts, those words, and find the right music for them. Hope didn’t even rise in him this time; he knew better by now.

  “Well,” Zee said, finally breaking it, “unless you want to go to the storage place now and want moral support, I’ll be on my way.”

  “You’d…do that?”

  “I wouldn’t want anyone to face that alone.”

  And that’s all it was. The kind of favor she’d do for anyone. “The house isn’t ready yet,” he said.

  “Then I’ll be off,” she said.

  He followed her to the door. She stopped just outside, an odd expression on her face. She was looking out to where the cars were parked, Aunt Millie’s bright red convertible and her own vivid green sedan.

  “Nice color combo,” she muttered.

  “Dr. Seuss Christmas cars,” he said.

  Her head snapped around. She stared at him for a moment. And then she burst out laughing. “Exactly.”

  He smiled wider than he had in months. “God, I’ve missed your laugh.” Before she could say something that would ruin the moment he put up a hand. “I know, my own fault. I could have come back sooner.”

  “At least to visit,” she agreed. Then, after another glance at the colorful cars, she looked back at him. “But I could have visited you, too.”

  “After what you saw in Fort Worth? I didn’t expect you to.”

  “About that. Boots told me you never actually…had sex with her.”

  He blinked. “He…did?”

  “Was he lying? Covering your cute little ass?”

  “No. I may have been out of it, but not that far gone. She was Scott’s hookup.”

  “No poaching, huh?”

  “Never. Not my type anyway.” He took a deep breath, and met her gaze head on. “I got…lonely sometimes. But it never worked.” Because it wasn’t you.

  “The lonely rock star?”

  “Pretty cliché, huh,” he said wryly. “But it’s true.”

  “Why things become cliché, I guess.”

  He knew it was the last thing he should say but it came out anyway. “Do you really think my ass is cute?”

  She gave him an incredulous look, then rolled her eyes in that very Zee way. “Me and a few million others. Male and female.”

  “But yours is the opinion that counts.”

  She gave him a different sort of look, one he couldn’t interpret. She twirled her key ring in her hand. “Cute enough to kiss. Or kick,” she said.

  And then she was gone, headed for the car, leaving him still searching for a comeback as she drove away.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “That boy paid more attention than I thought,” True said between sips of coffee.

  “To what?” Zee said, filling Hope’s cup. She didn’t have to ask what boy he was talking about, since there was only one who was a topic of conversation these days in Whiskey River.

  “Remember when he used to hang out with me on jobs sometimes? Seems he learned a bit. He’s got that house in decent shape already.”

  “With your help,” Zee pointed out.

  “Just with a couple of two-man jobs. The rest he’s done himself. I think he’s ready to move some stuff in.”

  “At least a bed to sleep in,” Hope said.

  Zee’s gaze shot to her soon to be sister-in-law’s face. Her expression was bland. Too carefully bland. “Something you’d like to hint at?” she asked.

  “Just wondering if Kelsey’s right, if you really picked out the color of your car because it matches his eyes.”

  Zee opened her mouth. Shut it again. She hadn’t. No way she had picked that color, even waited an extra week for it to arrive from another dealer in Dallas, just because it was the same color of Jamie’s eyes. It just…

  Coincidence?

  Even she saw the flimsiness of that.

  “Maybe I just like green,” she muttered.

  “Sure,” True said easily. “Especially that particular green.”

  “Remind me to snarl at Kelsey next time I see her,” she muttered.

  “She’ll just smile at you like you’re a stubborn horse,” Hope said blithely.

  “That is if Deck doesn’t take your head off first for daring to snarl at her,” True said, nearly as cheerfully.

  “Thanks, family dearest,” she muttered.

  “If we didn’t care, we wouldn’t prod,” Hope said. “Take that from an expert at being prodded by an expert.”

  “Do not even go there. That’s my brother you’re talking about…prodding you.”

  Hope burst out laughing. True looked smugly pleased. And Zee found herself smiling.

  Later, when they had gone and she went out to her car, she stood for a moment staring at it in the Texas sun. It wasn’t exactly the color of Jamie’s eyes. Because his eyes had little wedges of lighter green amid the rest. Hard to get that in a car paint job.

  But it was close enough, and she had to ruefully admit there was likely some truth to Kelsey’s theory. And she didn’t know which made her feel sillier, that she’d done it, or that she hadn’t realized—or at least admitted—it until now.

  She went back inside, stopped inside the door and just stood, having trouble trying to mentally organize her day. Pretty soon she was grimacing at her own indecisiveness. Telling herself that’s what happens when you don’t have enough to do, you get to thinking you have all the time in the world.

  Like Derek probably did?

  She had never met him, but she knew he was—had been—younger than Jamie. Probably still thought he was immortal. Whereas Jamie, and she herself, had learned at age fourteen that no one, not even those who seem the strongest and most invincible were immortal. They—

  She heard the distinctive thrum of the Mustang’s engine and whirled around in time to see the bright red car pull into the driveway behind hers. Those Dr. Seuss colors, she thought, and couldn’t help smiling. Maybe her car was Grinch green, but that meant so were his eyes. And for all his sins, that was a nickname that would never apply to Jamie Templeton.

  This was the first time he’d come to her, and she found she felt a bit edgy, wondering why. She watched, from the safety of her office, as he got out of the car. He already looked better, less hollow than he had. And he moved better, too, with more of his usual grace.

  See, Jamie? Only ten days back home and you’re looking like your old self again.

  And suddenly she was moving, heading for the door. Realized she was nearly running, like the old days when just the sight of him made her world right and she couldn’t wait to greet him. She made herself slow down, but she still got to the door before he did.

  “Hey,” he said, looking slightly self-conscious, as if now that he was here he wasn’t sure why. Or that he wanted to be.

  “You look…better.”

  He gave her a half-smile. “From what you said, that wouldn’t take much.”

  “You did look
pretty much like hell when you got here,” she said frankly.

  “Felt it, too. Now I feel like I’m at least doing something.”

  She grimaced. “Better than I’m doing today.”

  “Then…would you come with me?”

  She blinked, then belatedly realized he was holding up the key to the storage space. “Oh.”

  “I need…” he began, then hesitated.

  “To know where I put everything. Of course. But are you sure you don’t need True and his truck?”

  “Not yet.” His voice was quiet when he added, “I was going to say I need that moral support. Nobody’s ever done that for me better than you.” For a moment all she could do was stare at him. And then he grinned, that quick, flashing, brilliant Jamie grin. “Besides, you know you want a ride in the Mustang with the top down.”

  In the face of that, there was only one answer she could give. “Let’s go.”

  *

  It was good to be home, Jamie finally admitted as they waved at a grinning Trey Kelly going the other way, pulling a horse trailer with the Kelly’s Champs logo.

  “People seemed to be getting over the shock,” Zee said.

  “Yeah. The people who knew me before are almost back to normal.”

  “You mean treating you like the kid they remember?”

  He glanced over at her. “Some. Old man Johnson yelled at me to stay off his lawn. But he was smiling.”

  Zee laughed. And the sound of it was brighter than the sun pouring down, warming his shoulders as the wind of their passage tossed their hair.

  “I like your hair like this,” he said.

  “Short? It’s less of a time sink.”

  “I meant all wispy and tousled.” And the way it leaves the nape of your neck bare. Even if it does make me want to kiss it.

  “Windblown, you mean?”

  “Whatever. I just like it. It’s sexy.”

  He’d said it without thinking about it much, but the look she gave him was like a roundhouse to the stomach.

  “It is,” he said stubbornly.

  “So it wasn’t before?” When he’d left Whiskey River, her hair had been halfway down her back.

  He looked at her as they stopped at the corner in the town square. “I didn’t say that, and quit trying to pick a fight.”

  “I wasn’t.” Her mouth quirked wryly. “I just don’t know how to handle it when you say things like that.”

  “Why? I used to say them all the time.”

  “Exactly. Used to. When we were…an us.”

  “You mean when I had the right?”

  “Yes.”

  That was all she said, and the words just hung there between them. Because that said it all, he thought rather grimly. He drove on in silence. When the road ahead was empty, he risked a glance at her. “Sometimes what we think we want isn’t really what we want.”

  She looked startled. Then thoughtful. “Was that aimed at me, or you?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed. “I got very tired of wrestling with myself.”

  “The war between heart and mind has been going on for a very long time,” he said as he moved to the left slightly to clear a bicyclist who looked geared up for a cross-country ride.

  “Who usually wins?” She sounded so glum he nearly smiled, but somehow that didn’t seem wise just now.

  “I think they just trade off,” he said. “If you’re lucky, the right one wins when it needs to, and it comes out about even.”

  “I’m not sure mine’s been even for a while now.”

  “True was worried about you. After I left.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “He called to ask me what the hell I’d done to you. That was the first I knew of…how angry you were.”

  She was quiet for a moment. Looked thoughtful. Then she asked, “Was that right around Thanksgiving?”

  He flicked her a glance. “Yeah. Why?”

  “First time he asked me how we’d left it.”

  “Oh.” He took in a deep breath of his own before saying, “I gather since he didn’t come hunting me down, you said you told me to go.”

  “I did. I’ve never denied that.”

  “But?”

  “I was foolish. And young. I really thought you might come home for the holidays.”

  “That’s one of the best tour legs.”

  “I know that.” The slightest bit of tension had come into her voice, and he realized he was hearing a faint echo of that war she’d talked about, from all those years ago. “I just didn’t realize it then. I didn’t know much about the business end of it all.”

  Jamie smiled wryly. “Believe me, neither did I in the beginning. If Rob hadn’t taken us on, we would have made a serious mess of it all. As it is, we’ll all be okay until…we decide what we’re going to do.”

  A silver coupe approached, heading into town. He didn’t know who it was. He was long gone from the days where he knew what kind of car everyone he knew drove, but a light tap from the horn told him they’d recognized him.

  “Another fan,” she said, but there was no bite in it.

  “More likely they just liked the car.”

  He felt her gaze, but kept his eyes on the road because they were nearing the storage facility. “You never did get a big head about it, did you?”

  “Oh, I did. When we were flying high. But life’s got a way of slapping you down.”

  “Like taking away the people you love most?”

  “Yeah.”

  And then taking away the only reason you were able to keep going.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Zee watched as he stood in front of the sliding metal door, staring at the padlock as if to unlock it would be to unleash Pandora’s troubles upon the world. She glanced at the hand that held the key, saw that it was clenched around the ring until his knuckles were white.

  “Even after all this time, it’s really that hard?” she asked.

  “I told you I couldn’t—”

  She waved a hand and shook her head. “I wasn’t criticizing. Not anymore. I was genuinely asking. I only had to do a…second round of this, after our parents were killed, because True sorted it all out it first. I guess I’m only now truly realizing what it must have been like for him.”

  “Middle rung of hell?” Jamie suggested.

  She winced. “You always did have a way with words.”

  For a moment he just stood there, then he asked softly, “Would she have felt the way you did? That I didn’t…care enough, love her enough, to come back right away?”

  “I hope I have the grace to admit when I’ve been as wrong as I was. It was stupid of me to think everyone grieved in the same way. And arrogant to think that way was my way. So the answer is no. Aunt Millie knew you, knew your heart. And she loved you to the depths of her soul, and would have forgiven you if you’d danced on her grave.”

  “God, Zee…”

  She barely realized he’d moved before his arms were around her. For a split second she thought about resisting; they were not as they had once been, and there had been too much time and rough water under that particular bridge. But something in his voice, in the way he’d looked forestalled her, and instead she slipped her arms around him.

  For a long moment they just stood there. They fit together as well as ever, and his arms were strong, familiar, his body still long, lean, and full of grace. He made her feel not just sheltered, but safe as well, and she could only hope she was giving him that in return, for he was the one who needed it now.

  “Do you want me to open it?” she finally, almost reluctantly asked.

  “No.” He released her, looked down at her with a soft, almost loving smile. The smile of the Jamie she remembered. “I’m good now.”

  He lifted a hand to her cheek, cupped it for a moment, and for that moment it wasn’t just the smile, he was everything she remembered. Everything she had loved with all the passion of her teenaged heart.

  He did better than she�
��d expected. His first words as he scanned the space were, “I may need to rent a truck.”

  “Borrow True’s.”

  “He’s working. He can’t do everything.”

  “Tell him that, will you?”

  He grinned at her, and it was almost normal. “Think he’d believe me?”

  She grinned back. “No.”

  They started through the accumulation of a lifetime in a fairly good state. Not that there weren’t quiet, aching moments, in particular when they found the box of his parents’ things that Aunt Millie had saved for him.

  “She said you’d want them, someday,” she told him.

  He’d only nodded, and they went on. And more than once she’d caught his eyes glistening with moisture, but there was some laughter, too, when they found Aunt Millie’s stuffed dragon, a wildly purple beast she had laughingly adored and kept since childhood.

  “That,” he said, “is definitely coming home with me now.”

  Home. Did he mean it? Was this home to him again? She reined in the sudden leap of her heart. Even if he did mean it, hadn’t she learned the hard way that what he meant wasn’t always what she meant?

  A few minutes later, after she’d gone to find a particular box in the back of the space, she came back to find him clutching that silly dragon to his chest, his eyes closed.

  “Jamie? Are you okay?”

  “She used to let me sleep with this, when she first brought me home,” he said, without opening his eyes. “She said ‘I know you’re too old to need a protector, so just let him be a friend.’”

  Her throat tight, Zee whispered, “God, I miss that woman.”

  “The night True called with the news she was gone, I wanted this damned dragon more than I wanted my next breath. I wanted to curl up with him and cry. Sometimes I still do.”

  Zee wanted to cry herself, and the only thing that stopped her was anger. Anger not at him but at herself, for not understanding. The memory hit her again, of asking her brother back when Hope didn’t think she could face the mess she’d been running from, if he could accept that Hope’s way of dealing wasn’t the same as his. Yet she had done the same thing with Jamie, judging his way of grieving by her own and thinking his lacking. But here it was in front of her, coming off him in palpable waves, and she felt like a complete fool.