Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Rhys

Present day . . .

Darkness had fallen. Big, juicy raindrops splattered the windshield. I turned the wipers up a notch and squinted out the window. I wasn’t usually out this late, but Bethany and Hannah had each been in the school play. Afterward, Wren had invited us to her house for ice cream.

The treat was innocuous enough, but Wren loved to indulge the girls. Whipped cream, caramel, fudge, sprinkles, cherries. They’d wanted to plan all the activities for their annual school’s-out Grandma visit too. Wren took the girls for two weeks each summer, starting the weekend after the last day of school. It had started with an overnight, and the length grew each year, especially after my divorce .

“Dad, my tummy’s upset,” nine-year-old Bethany groaned.

Shit. “Is there a bag or something back there?” I glanced at the back seat of my pickup. She was pale and grimacing. “Why don’t you have your glasses on?”

“I don’t need them,” she said with the weakness of someone on their deathbed.

I suppressed my heavy sigh. “It’s dark, Bethany. No one can see you.”

“Here they are.” Hannah yanked out the motion sickness goggles. The opaque white frames were filled with blue liquid. Giant circles on the sides gave her four googly eyes. She looked cute in them, but she’d rather puke up copious amounts of ice cream than be caught with them on her face.

“Put ’em back. I’m already sick.” But not too sick to argue with her younger sister, apparently.

“Can you just wear them and see if they’ll help?” We lived out of town, and I was still on the highway.

“But it’s raining,” she argued. “Isn’t that liquid enough?”

I checked the rearview mirror. Bethany was shoving at the glasses. The fluid inside of them was supposed to signal her brain that we were moving or some shit. Would rain imitate the effect? “I don’t want to find out it’s not enough after you throw up.”

“Ugh, fine.” Bethany stuffed them on. “I still don’t feel good.”

Maybe it was the rich food her stomach wasn’t used to.

Up ahead, blinking lights caught my eye. I slowed. Our turnoff was soon, but I could make out the dark outline of a car about a hundred yards beyond it. The hood was open. Someone was stranded.

I didn’t want to be a Good Samaritan today. I wanted to get home before pukefest began and get the girls to bed.

A figure crossed in front of the hazards. Shapely legs. Most likely a woman. My inner chivalrous man reared up, the bastard. Whoever it was likely had a phone. They were probably local and had someone to call. I didn’t need to rush in to save the day.

Although tourists took random roads all the time and got more than they bargained for in the Montana wilderness.

The rain grew heavier and a crooked flash of lightning lit the sky.

Shit. I had to at least make sure they had everything they needed. The girls were with me, so it wasn’t like I would be giving a stranger a ride, but I could ensure all was well. “Someone needs help up ahead. I’m gonna check on them. You two stay in the car with the doors locked.”

Both perked up, unbothered by my warning.

“Remember—stay in the car.” I eased to the side of the road and turned my hazards on but stopped twenty yards behind the stranded motorist.

I kept the engine running. Who knew what kind of person I was helping? “I’ll lock the doors. Watch for me and unlock them.”

I got out. Rain pelted me in the face. I tucked my chin down and jogged toward the car. Whoever the girl was, she wasn’t by the trunk. I couldn’t see a blown-out tire. Must mean engine issues. I blinked water out of my eyes and made a wide arc around the front. If this lady wasn’t stable, or if I surprised her, I didn’t want to be close if she lashed out.

But I didn’t want to terrify the poor girl, so I called, “Need a hand?”

The woman was bending over the engine, barely sheltered by the open hood. Her top hung down and I caught nice cleavage and the shadow of her bra.

I swallowed hard and looked away, but my gaze landed on long legs. I jerked my attention to her face and found large amber eyes blinking at me and ripe pink lips opened in shock.

“Rhys?” Her voice rolled over me just as a crack of thunder rent the air. An uncomfortable heat filled my veins that had nothing to do with the storm. Because I knew that voice.

Everyone knew that goddamn voice. Her songs played every hour on the radio, and her face was splashed across every screen. Everywhere I turned, I heard her voice or read her name.

A guy shouldn’t have to avoid his past in his own goddamn house, but the high school sweetheart who’d left me behind for fame and fortune sure as fuck made it happen every damn day.

“June.”

June

Anxiety fled just having Rhys Kinkade so close. Irritation filled its place. Why did he have to be the one to come to my rescue in this storm ?

Why had I decided to go to the hunting cabin tonight?

It was my refuge, and I’d been seeking a hiding place. Somewhere no one but my family knew about. I had a lot of homes. The press liked to make a big deal out of it whenever I bought one, but they didn’t know about the cabin Daddy had given me.

And miracle of all miracles, they didn’t know about Rhys. He was my before, and my fans didn’t care about my before. They thought my life had been nothing but bourbon and small-town Montana. My present-day relationships were of more interest than my past.

It’d been ten years since I’d seen more than a passing glance of him. For a guy so unbothered about our breakup, he sure did go out of his way to avoid me when I was in town. But then, I did the same.

Now I was facing him. His dark hair was plastered against his forehead and his short beard glistened from the rain. His scar bisected his upper lip to the left of his nose. His soaked shirt was plastered against his hard chest. My mouth watered.

He had changed so much since we were kids. How much wider his shoulders had become. How burly he’d gotten. I couldn’t answer why the darkness in his expression sent tingles right down my spine to between my legs, but here I was, soaked to the bone, cold, and wishing he’d make me feel as good as he once used to.

Don’t wait for me.

Well, that doused the lust effectively.

“What are you doing out here?” His incredulity hadn’t dissipated.

What was I doing here? Wasn’t that a story the media would want? “The engine just died. ”

He raked his irritated gaze over the car. It was dark and the glare of the headlights from his pickup made it impossibly hard to see the deep blue of his irises. “Have you called anyone?”

God, no.

Thunder split the night. I jumped and squeezed my eyes shut. I was safe. The car was fine. I was fine.

“Shit.” Rhys’s eyes flashed, ripe with indignation, then he turned and beckoned me to follow him. “Come on. We’ll talk in the pickup.”

I was tired of being told what to do and, most of all, wary of being manipulated, but when Rhys ordered me to do something, my brain shut off and my body listened.

My only other choices were to walk the six miles to the cabin or to get into my dead, brand-new car and call one of my siblings. Then I’d have to explain who, what, when, where, and why I was back in Montana.

I had just... needed to leave it all for a few days. But that explanation wouldn’t satisfy my family.

He jogged around the passenger side and knocked on the door. Someone moved inside and then the locks thunked. Who was with him? He opened the door for me.

I smiled my thanks at him, but he refused to look at me. He stepped out of my way and opened the back door. “Get that blanket and pass it up to the front, please.”

His voice had turned kinder, impossibly gentle. He’d said please. I was no longer a recipient of that tone.

I peered into the back seat before I crawled in.

Oh my god. Of course he had his daughters along. “Hey,” I said timidly. I’d seen him with them around town, but they hadn’t seen me. My big floppy hat and sunglasses might be over the top, but they allowed me a surprising amount of anonymity. The getup had given me moments to spy on a version of Rhys who doted on his adorable little girls.

One audible gasp sounded, followed by another. Two sets of big eyes pinned me.

There it was. The recognition. I scrambled into the pickup and was surrounded by his cedar-and-soap scent. That part hadn’t changed.

He got in on the other side. Droplets cascaded from his hair and down his face.

“You’re June Bee,” one of the girls said.

“I am. What’s your name?”

Both girls giggled.

“I’m Bethany.”

“Hannah.”

They each spoke so fast I couldn’t tell who said what.

“I can’t believe it,” the one with odd goggles gushed. “I heard you were from Bourbon Canyon, but I’ve never seen you. I almost didn’t believe it.”

I frowned at their dad. He wouldn’t look at me. He just shoved a fluffy red-plaid blanket toward me. He hadn’t told the girls we’d been friends? Of course he wouldn’t have told them about the women before their mom, but these two had no idea I even knew their dad, much less how intimately well.

At least he hadn’t told them he hated me. Because he’d acted like it at his dad’s funeral.

“Yes, I was born and raised in Bourbon Canyon.” I stared at Rhys. A muscle in his jaw was popping. I draped the blanket over my lap. I hated to get it soaked, but shivers were racing up and down my body. I’d be shaking soon. “Your dad and I used to go to school together.”

The first day he’d shown up in my class, he’d cringed when the teacher had announced he’d been living in New York City and he’d also lived in LA. All the kids had peppered him with questions about the big city, but during lunch I had set my tray next to his and asked what his favorite song was.

The relief and gratitude in his eyes were something I still treasured despite everything.

A high-pitched squeal came out of the oldest. “Really? You know our dad?”

“Really.” I grinned back at her. Whatever those goggles were for, they were supercute on her. When she spotted me eyeing them, she groaned and clawed at her face to get them off.

“Don’t take them off,” I said. “They look good.”

She stopped and slowly pushed them back into place. “Really?”

“Absolutely. What do you wear them for?” They didn’t have lenses.

“I get motion sickness.”

“Ah. May I try them on?”

The girl thrust them at me. I put them on and vogued. “Who wore them better?”

Giggles erupted from them.

The youngest squealed, “June Bee’s wearing Bethany’s glasses!”

“I’m just a girl like you.” I winked at Bethany as I handed them back. “Can I trust you both with a secret?”

Rhys cut his head toward me, a furrow bisecting his brow, one I itched to outline with my finger. The line was new, but it fit him. He’d always been a serious kid .

The girls were quiet, waiting for me to continue. I had their rapt attention, but their dad had half of mine.

“I don’t want anyone to know I’m here for a while,” I confessed. “I just need some time to relax.” To lick my wounds. To repair my pride. To figure out why the hell I’d been so gullible. “Can you keep seeing me to yourselves?”

“It’ll be our secret,” Hannah said. She had her dad’s dark-blue eyes and chestnut hair.

“Thanks.” I clutched the blanket as a shiver racked my body.

Rhys punched the heater on and turned it up to high. “Girls, you don’t keep secrets when a stranger asks you to, even when that stranger’s a celebrity .”

I bristled at his tone. I was more than a media puppet. I was more than a caricature of a singer. I wrote my own music and I sang to my strengths. My talent was real.

I just had to figure out what else was. “Are we strangers, Rhys?”

His eyes narrowed. This man was not used to being challenged. But he had a point. He had daughters to keep safe and I was a stranger to them. And to him too.

I sighed. “I shouldn’t have asked you guys to keep a secret, but if it’s okay with your dad”—I lifted a brow at the brooding man behind the wheel—“I’d appreciate it if you kept my visit quiet.”

“Daddy?” one of the girls said.

He worked his jaw. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Without looking at me, he said, “Do you need to call Tate or one of your other siblings?”

I shook my head. “Can you just take me to the cabin? I’ll deal with the car on Monday. ”

He slanted a quick glance toward me like he wanted to ask more questions, but there were two sets of ears in the back seat. “Do you have some luggage you need to bring?”

“I can get it later.”

“With what?”

Good point. My new car was the only set of wheels I had. “I’ll go grab it.”

He shook his head and kicked the pickup into gear. He pulled up next to my defunct car. I put my hand on the door handle.

“Don’t.” He twisted in his seat. The position made his chest broader, and those abs... I bet he still looked good with his shirt off. “Stay here and don’t bombard Miss Kerrigan with questions.”

Miss Kerrigan? I was highly insulted he, of all people, had addressed me so formally but also soothed because how blissfully normal did it sound? “Junie is fine. And I’m okay with questions.” I loved chatting with kids. But he shot me a disgruntled look. I held my hands up. “But your dad said no questions, so no questions.”

His headshake was barely perceptible as he got out. The rain muffled the thunk of the tailgate and then he moved my two suitcases and my guitar case to the bed of the pickup. He had a bed cover. My items would be protected.

“Why’d he call you Miss Kerrigan?” Hannah asked.

A smile tugged at my lips. Little rebels. No parental injunction would stop them. “It’s my name. The Baileys adopted me and my sisters a long time ago, but we kept our birth name to remember our other parents by.” I winked at them. “I also like being able to come home and just be Junie Kerrigan. ”

They smiled, but nothing more came from the back seat. If they didn’t ask more questions, then I’d stare at their dad’s powerful body as he rescued my luggage, and Rhys had made it clear I was not welcome to him or his body.

So I would be the one pestering them with questions. The one I really wanted to ask was Did your dad really not mention me? “So... how old are you two?”

“I’m almost ten,” Bethany said.

“And I’m almost nine,” Hannah said in a singsong voice. “We were just at our play tonight.”

I perked up. “Oh yeah? Who’s your teacher?”

“Mrs. Ellison.”

“Oh, I know her. She’s so nice.”

Rhys climbed back into the truck. He was soaked again. I lifted the corner of the blanket to dab at his face.

He pulled back, his expression aghast. “What are you doing?”

Trying to touch him. I dropped my hand to my lap. The move had been instinctive, but embarrassment chased some of the chill away. “You’re soaked.”

His gaze dipped to my chest and shot back to meet mine. “You need to cover up more. You’re the one who’s drenched.”

I straightened in my seat and glanced down. My gauzy cream shirt was plastered to my boobs and the outline and color of my yellow bra was plainly visible. So were my hard nipples, and there were kids in the car. Abashed, I tugged the blanket up.

Yesterday, I had wanted to get away. To figure my life out. Why did my car have to die? Why did it have to be so close to the turnoff to where Rhys now lived ?

Why did he have to be the one to find me?

Because I hadn’t called my brothers. They lived for coming to their sisters’ aid. Instead, I’d gotten Rhys. The ex who wanted nothing to do with me and hadn’t even told his daughters he used to date the country singer they seemed to be fans of.

I’d done what he’d told me to. I hadn’t waited for him. I’d made a name for myself. Once I found some peace and finished the album my record label was waiting on, I’d be gone again.

His jaw was tight as he kicked the pickup in gear and took off toward the cabin.