Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Rhys

Why wasn’t she calling her family? Why was her brand-new car a lemon? Why was she in Bourbon Canyon anyway?

My windshield wipers were going fast and furious. How could a rain-soaked June Kerrigan smell so damn good? Like fresh blooming peonies during the month she was named after. The month that was my favorite time of the year.

I’d have some explaining to do with my girls when we got home. The town was protective of their singing Kerrigan. People spoke among themselves about her but otherwise kept her privacy right where it needed to be. My history with her was not forgotten but had been brushed off as insignificant. If someone tried to bring up me and June, I changed the subject real damn fast. Most of the teachers in the girls’ school were transplants who didn’t know how hot and heavy it’d been between us back in the day. Though June’s sister Autumn and her sister-in-law, Scarlett, were also teachers in town, they seemed to know I didn’t want the gossip spreading to the girls.

I’d skated through it all for years until tonight.

I navigated the narrow road to the goddamn cabin. Of all places, why did we have to return there?

The girls and I had lived at the old Dunn ranch for a few years, and of course I’d known the cabin was only six miles away, but it seemed like a hundred miles when June wasn’t within state lines.

I’d spent plenty of time at that place with June. More than her parents probably knew or wanted to know. Those memories had been shoved back into the recesses of my brain since I last walked out the door.

The road wound through the foothills and just where the trees started growing thicker, there was a flat landing and an outline of a dark building.

The Baileys kept the place up, but how long had it sat empty? Was it ready for someone to seek refuge there during a storm?

Uneasiness settled in my gut. “You’re staying here?”

“Yeah. Tenor makes sure the power and water are still good. He said he was out last month after most of the snow melted and checked on everything.”

She had both vents aimed at her, but she continued to shiver. I slowed as I approached. The dirt path to the door was now mud. June was wearing strappy sandals.

I remembered when those long legs had disappeared into cowboy boots. Did she save those for the camera to keep her country persona alive?

The next strike of lightning showed me how thin her shirt was, as if I hadn’t been noticing already. Her satiny skin was covered in goose bumps, and worse, there was fear in her eyes. She wasn’t comfortable staying out here alone in a storm.

Of course she wasn’t. How much of her shivering was from being stranded in a car in a rainstorm? She’d been in the car with her sisters when her parents had crashed and died. She might be an adult, but that shit stayed with a person.

Fuck me. “Is there bedding and a TV or something?”

Her bark of laughter was full of scorn. “I’m staying away from TV and social media. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep for five days.”

“You’re only here for five days?” I could gut out that length of time.

“Uh, a little longer.” A low, growly noise filled the air. She pressed her hands to her stomach and her cheeks flushed pink. She gave me a forced smile that I hated. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Do you have food in there?”

“Um...” She studied the house. “There might be some canned food?”

Was she asking me or telling me?

“She can stay with us, Daddy,” Bethany offered.

My stomach bottomed out. No fucking way. June under my roof? The house was my safe place, the only location I could go that didn’t have memories of June.

June shot her a kind smile. “Thanks for the offer, but it’s late and I’ve intruded enough.”

She was cold and likely had no food. And she was alone when something was clearly wrong.

Stay out of it. I’d been strong for fifteen years, I couldn’t break now.

Fuck me .

Instead of pulling closer to the house and gouging the muddy land with my tire tracks, I swung around and backed up.

June whipped her head toward me. “What are you doing?”

“Like Bethany said, you can stay with us.”

“N-no. It’s fine.”

I didn’t glance over to see if she looked as alarmed as she sounded. “We have a guest room with a bed already made up and we have food.”

“Daddy stress bakes,” Hannah said proudly. “We have muffins and strudel and cookies.”

“You bake?” June asked.

I kept my gaze out the window. The brush of her astonishment licked over my damp skin. “I’ve learned a few things since you left town.”

If she heard the bitterness in my tone, she ignored it. “I bet you have.”

June

Rhys drove to the old Dunn place. Summer’s husband had grown up on this ranch. She’d dated Jonah’s younger brother in high school and college, so my sisters and I had visited this place before. Jonah’s brother had gotten killed drinking and driving, almost taking Jonah out with him. Due to the injuries, Jonah had stopped helping his dad ranch. A couple of years ago, I’d heard Jonah’s parents were moving and that Rhys had bought the place .

“This is our new ranch,” Hannah said.

“It’s not new,” Bethany said, sounding exactly like Summer used to when we were kids and she’d barely tolerated her sisters’ helpful comments. “We’ve lived here since I was seven.”

Rhys parked by the back door. The garage was detached—for now. Support beams were erected between the house and garage. He was enclosing them. Was he doing the work himself?

What’d he look like all sweaty? If it was hot, did he work with his shirt off? I used to love catching him with his shirt off.

But that was then. I’d seen lots of men without their shirts since. Professional athletes. Country singers. Random men at the bar who thought their muscles were tip enough. Muscles didn’t affect me.

Would he wear a really tight shirt or take it off entirely?

Nope. I was done with men for more than a little while. I wanted a guy who wanted me, and only me. Two standards that had been lacking in my dating history.

“Girls,” Rhys said, “it’s way past your bedtime. I know we have a guest, but you both need to brush your teeth, get into pajamas, and crawl into bed. I’ll be there to tuck you in after I get Miss Kerrigan settled.”

“Junie,” I said on a sigh.

He didn’t acknowledge me and got out. I folded the blanket and left it on the seat when I climbed out. The girls took off inside, screeching about the cold rain.

I ducked through the downpour and went to the back of the pickup to get my stuff.

“I got it,” he said through gritted teeth. We were getting pelted with fast, tiny drops. The storm had grown in strength.

Grateful I didn’t have to spend the night waiting for an empty cabin to heat up while I was starving, I lifted my guitar case. “I’m already here.”

We carried my stuff in.

Inside the door, I set the case down on a long rug, and he put my luggage next to it and ran back out, probably to park in the garage.

I wiped rain off my face and inhaled. The place had a homey smell. Baked goods. A hint of cedar and fresh linen from the laundry room behind me. The kitchen was square, with a squat dining room at one end. Modern cabinet doors updated the whole look. Either Rhys or Jonah’s parents must’ve switched them out.

If Rhys had done it, had he been shirtless?

I was tired. Policing my thoughts was too hard right now.

At my feet, polished hardwood stretched through the kitchen and into the living room on the other side of the wall. A square table butted against the far wall and a tiny island on wheels sat in the middle.

I peered into the living room. I could make out pictures of the girls, furniture upholstered in earth tones, and more blankets than I had in the whole cabin.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs on the other side of the living room wall.

Bethany peeked out. “Do you know where your room is?”

I didn’t know a whole lot about my life at this point. “No. Is it upstairs or down?”

“Daddy’s room and the guest room are downstairs. Me and Hannah sleep upstairs.” She beamed. “We each get our own room.”

I smiled. I had been terrified at first to have my own room when my sisters and I had gone to live with the Baileys. “Awesome.”

Bethany straightened and swept her arm toward the kitchen. “Help yourself to a muffin.”

My stomach clenched at the mention of food. “Thank you.”

I toed off my sandals and crossed to the counter. A round serving plate of muffins was piled high under a clear plastic dome. Stress baking. Rhys had barely ever turned an oven on when we dated.

The muffin was full of shredded carrots and coconut. The thing was like a ripe orange, much heavier than it looked. I continued to inspect the handiwork of a man I no longer knew as I leaned against the counter and kicked the heel of one foot against the ankle of my other leg.

I took a mouthful and groaned. My eyes rolled back in my head. So decadent.

The back door opened. I opened my eyes and found Rhys staring at me. His shirt was plastered to his barrel chest and his hooded blue gaze was unreadable. He’d packed muscle onto every inch of his frame, and he’d been a sturdy guy when we’d dated.

The beard changed him the most from the boy I’d planned my life with. When I’d seen him around, I’d done little more than note how good it looked on him. But this close?

Heat seeped in, curling through my belly and lighting up places that should be locked up solid while I got my life back on track. I’d get on top of those feelings once I got some sleep.

I dropped my gaze first. “Bethany offered me a muffin.”

He jerked like he was snapping out of a trance. “I can heat up some leftover spaghetti.”

My stomach twisted. I was so fucking hungry. My body knew I was home. The stress had rolled off my shoulders and I could just... be. I could forget what I’d left behind. The expectations. The obligations. The betrayal.

But Rhys was still dripping on the rug by the door like he was afraid to enter any farther into the same room as me.

“No, thanks. The muffin will be enough.” When everyone was asleep, I could sneak a second one. I took another bite.

His gaze grew more intense, then he looked away. “I’ll make sure your bedroom’s ready.”

He took his boots off. His jeans curved under his heels when he walked, just like before. I used to tease him about fraying the bottoms of his jeans like that.

An unexpected ache in my chest made me wince. I took another bite of muffin. “God, this is good,” I said around my mouthful. A delight to my taste buds. I missed home-cooked food.

“It’s got shredded carrots and zucchini. Sometimes it’s the only vegetables I get into the girls.”

My mouth went dry. He was a family man. I gulped the bolus of muffin down. “They’re adorable.”

“The muffins?”

“No, the—” I caught the twinkle in his eye. Years melted away between us and I laughed. “The muffins. Absolutely adorable.”

He cleared his throat, his gaze skating away. “The girls are the best. I’m a lucky guy.”

“What’s Kirstin doing these days?” I stuffed the rest of my muffin in my mouth before I asked more questions like a jealous ex-lover.

“She’s in Costa Rica, shooting the scarlet macaw and the great green macaw.”

“Wow.” Rhys hadn’t moved on from me to a slouch. “Why macaws?”

“Why not?” His flat tone said everything. Why not photograph macaws when you could’ve stayed with a man like Rhys? Why not travel to fabulous places for your job? Why not do whatever the hell you wanted to do, even if it meant leaving your own children behind?

I tried to swallow my giant mouthful, but a crumb caught in my throat and I coughed. Shit. I turned my back on him. My irritated throat ignited more coughing.

Was this how I would go? Choking on his homemade goodies while talking about his ex-wife?

His heat surrounded me and a glass of water appeared next to me. “Drink.”

I took a long pull. A few more small coughs came out. I gulped another mouthful.

“Thanks,” I wheezed.

He didn’t move away. I didn’t want him to.

“Take it easy, June Bug. I’ve been told my baked goods are to die for, but you don’t have to prove it.”

I smiled weakly up at him. “They’re seriously good though. When did you start baking?”

A crease formed in his brow. “Why are you back and don’t want your family to know? ”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I’d stuff another muffin in my mouth if I hadn’t just choked myself. “Baking’s a touchy subject. Noted.”

“No.” He sighed and ruffled his damp hair. “It was a way to take my mind off Dad being sick and... Anyway. I kept doing it and the girls were born, so I had to keep cooking and baking.”

A way to take his mind off his dad and me. “Why don’t your girls know about us?” I bit the inside of my cheek, but it was pointless. The question was out.

As close as we were, I could see the deeper-blue striations in his irises. He clenched his jaw and looked away. “Why would I talk about my ex with my girls?”

“I get that, Rhys, but come on. I’m not just any ex.” And he’d been divorced for years.

“You want to know why I didn’t brag about dating country music darling June Bee?”

When he said it like that, I sounded arrogant. Country music darling. That was me. My next album was supposed to catapult me all the way to the top. If I could write it. “I just thought since Bethany and Hannah are fans...”

“All girls their age are,” he said flatly. “But my ex isn’t.”

“Gotcha.” His ex probably wasn’t the only reason he’d stayed quiet on the subject of June Bee. I doubt he wanted to talk about me with anyone. Was it the stress of staying behind that had turned him off me so hard? Did he resent me for leaving? Or did he resent me for hanging on when he’d wanted a clean break?

I’d never know, and I’d moved on.

I looked around his kitchen. Somehow I hadn’t moved far .

He strode to my luggage and lifted my bags. “The guest room is down the hallway off the living room. You can bring your water.”

I lifted the glass in a salute. When he disappeared, I refilled the cup. Then I went for my guitar. I sucked in a deep breath and followed Rhys deeper into the house.

Fifteen years after our one night in the cabin, I was sleeping under the same roof as him again. In different beds, in different rooms. Only this time I would go to sleep knowing there wasn’t a future for us.