Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

June

I leaned over Wynter’s shoulder. She was clicking through the mock-ups she’d made for the Christmas campaign. My smiling face shone back at me from several snapshots. Me with a stocking hat and a glass in my hand. Me holding a frosted metal cup with a mound of whipped cream overflowing the top, a candy cane in my other hand as I laughed. Me in a snug red velvet dress Wynter had worn last year to the Christmas party for Myles’s distillery in Denver.

The smiles were real. My second-oldest brother, Teller, liked to make smart-ass comments while I was modeling to keep me real—his words, not mine.

The image that kept drawing my eye didn’t include a smile. A simple stemmed glass with a candied cherry at the bottom was on the floor. Inside the glass, bourbon was mixed with sparkling apple cider and a dash of cinnamon. It was a lovely and fresh cocktail, but I had set it down to play “What Child Is This.” A slow, mellow song that often helped me escape the fast-paced bustle of the holiday season.

Christmas lights were blurred behind me. I wasn’t wearing a Santa hat or the red dress. I had on a long-sleeved cream shirt and jeans with my favorite cowboy boots, and I was sitting on a stool. My expression was distant. I wasn’t looking at my guitar or at anyone else. I had let the music calm the frenzy of the photo shoot, which was one of the tamest of the ones I’d done. Wynter didn’t like chaos, and it wasn’t Copper Summit’s brand. She’d had the drinks already prepared and had played bartender while I’d changed outfits and the photographer had set up the next set.

A band around my chest tightened. I looked sad. Melancholy. Alone. The picture encapsulated how I’d felt for years.

At the same time, it was also the real me. I might’ve fought Lucy on the level of sex in my brand—gotta attract the men—and which of my songs I would publish, and I’d argued with the record label about my lack of twang and how much skin to show on my album covers, but I hadn’t won all the decisions. If it wasn’t for my social media following lending me their collective voice, I’d be a blond on stage in Daisy Dukes with my abs showing. Nothing wrong with that, but it wasn’t me.

I had an indie vibe. I didn’t do overtly sexual. Sometimes, I had bad days. And this image said all that.

Wynter’s stare burned into the side of my face.

I straightened, forgetting the image. I had to play the game a little longer. “I can’t believe Myles hasn’t stolen you for Foster House’s marketing.”

She crossed her arms. “Their team does just fine. He hires only the best, and more importantly, he hires people who can work with him.”

“He’s barely in the office anymore, so that helps.” Wynter and Myles lived on the portion of land Daddy had given her. When needed, Myles commuted to the outskirts of Denver, where the Foster House distillery was located. Many times, Wynter and their daughter, Elsa, traveled with him. “But you worked with him just fine.”

Her mouth tipped up in a knowing grin. “We worked way too well together at times. Anyway”—she swiveled back to her computer screen—“is there any image you don’t want me to use?”

This was one reason I wouldn’t let my music career collide with the work I did for Copper Summit. My family had all the freedom and they respected me and the rest of their employees.

How many times had I argued with Lucy about venues I didn’t want to play in, artists I didn’t want to open for, or images I didn’t want posted by the social media manager she’d hired?

Too many fucking times. The respect I’d gotten from working with my family had delayed my breakout by years. The way I stuck to my convictions about how I’d be presented or how I did business was only one of the reasons I’d watched women younger than me rise to fame faster.

I pointed to the image of me playing the guitar. “Don’t use that one.”

“I didn’t realize Kyra was shooting you then.” Her tone was apologetic.

“No, it’s fine. I like the shot, but it feels personal, you know? It’s not Copper Summit and it’s not June Bee.” For now.

“Speaking of which—why haven’t I seen anything about your sudden departure from Nashville?”

I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not that big of news.”

She tapped her fingers on the desktop and stared at me.

I sighed. “For one, I’m not dating anyone, so I’m not as interesting as usual.” I let out a derisive snort. “God forbid a girl gets known for her talent in country music.”

“It’s not fair.” Wynter waved her hands. “All of it.”

I trailed my fingers through my hair and captured a strand of blue. Lucy had pressed me to dye my hair blonder and ditch the other colors. I hadn’t listened. She had claimed I was putting my entire career on the line every time I appeared on stage with an “unnatural” color in my hair. Since when have you seen a successful country singer with color in her hair?

Country music lacked a lot of color and not just in hair, so I kept my stylist and ignored Lucy like I should’ve done when she’d brought up men I should meet.

“People are starting to speculate,” she said.

I snapped out of my trance. “What?”

She tapped her phone. “I know you said you’re staying away from everything, but people have noticed there’ve been no real posts.”

Right. I had fired my social media manager too. She’d been a Lucy hire. I’d also changed my login info, but I popped in a lot with quick posts and videos. Not every day, but often enough that as I was approaching two weeks since fleeing Nashville, my silence would be noted. “I just can’t bring myself to open an app. ”

If I saw one thing about me and one of my exes, my restraint might break. I didn’t want to be linked to those men, but now I would be. Forever. Proof that I could be duped so easily.

Any muse that had returned while working with Wynter had shriveled and turned to dust. My two months were down to a little over seven weeks.

“Want me to talk to Ruby?” Wynter offered.

“Your new social media girl?” Ruby Casteel was a recent hire, and she worked out of the Bozeman distillery, but she came to Bourbon Canyon regularly to film content. I hadn’t met her in person yet, but I’d been informed of her hiring during one of our family meetings.

“We have strict NDAs, but you don’t even have to tell her why. We can just say that you want some time off and you don’t want anyone to worry.” She gestured to the computer screen that had gone black. “Kyra gives us video footage from the shoots too. Ruby can use that.”

Yes, that would work. I was home for a breather. I’d just come off tour and I was working on the album my fans were excited about. Easy enough—as long as I wasn’t the one diving into the social feed.

Wynter spun her chair again and her arms were crossed once more. “You never said how lessons went.”

I frowned and went to the small couch in her office. One side was stacked with props she’d used last week—the dress, a Santa hat, and the cream shirt I’d borrowed. My cardigan was draped over the other side. “I told you it was fine.”

“Would you let me get away with that answer?”

No, I’d take it as a sign to pester her more. “He cleared out as soon as I started with the girls. Then we had a piece of coffee cake and I left.”

“Coffee cake?”

“He bakes now.”

“The guy who barely stays indoors bakes?”

I nodded and shrugged into my cardigan. The drizzle from this morning had quit, but it was probably still chilly out. “He’s a dad now. He can’t be gone all day.”

Wynter tapped her fingertips together. “He fed you?”

“You make it sound scintillating.” He’d fed me a lot since I’d arrived. Muffins, sandwiches, coffee cake. “He’s civil. So am I.” This time, I was the one folding my arms. “There’s nothing there anymore.”

She narrowed her eyes. I wasn’t lying, but a sour flavor stained my tongue.

“He’s moved on. We’re different people.”

That brow lifted again. I stiffened. Was she going to argue about how I hadn’t moved on? Or did she agree with how different Rhys and I were now? I was practically a city girl these days and he wore flannel as a way of life.

“I don’t think either of you has changed as much as you imagine,” she said.

“Then we definitely aren’t destined to be together. Since it didn’t work the first time. His priority is not me. It’s two adorable, lively little girls.”

The scar along my heart ached. He had kids. I had fans. Sometimes, the two were completely incompatible.

Not that I was interested. And neither was he. I was sure of it. The emotions rising in me like a wind had kicked them up were nothing more than echoes of the past.

Either way, I was done with the topic. “I need a break from all men. Anyway, I’m going to Mountain Perks. Want to come along?”

I’d been venturing out more and more. My ball cap and sunglasses were a constant. So far, only my old math teacher from high school had recognized me when I’d chatted with Autumn at the bar in the distillery, and he’d never sold me out before.

The coffee shop would be a different story, but the social media talk with Wynter had shown me that I couldn’t hide forever. Nor did I have to reveal why I was home. Besides, I was home and I’d be in a coffee shop. Not exactly front-page material.

“I’d love to.” Wynter swiveled toward her desk. “But I have to finish up some things. We’re going to Denver over Memorial Day weekend and staying for a couple of weeks.”

I was not jealous of her little family unit and how they traveled together. Myles had built his empire in another fucking state, but he’d moved to Montana for Wynter. Their home was here. Yet when he had to go to Foster House, she often accompanied him.

What was it like?

How many times had leaving for an appearance or a performance ruined a relationship for me? The infidelity hadn’t helped, but neither had the constant distance. The continued separation. Each time I went on tour or my partner left town for their own gig or game was like a proclamation. We had come together temporarily, and our relationship was nothing more than that.

I gave her a hug. On my way out, I stopped by the viewing windows into the main room where the giant round pots sat with bubbling mash. The tall stills were at the other end with their distillation pipes reaching toward the ceiling.

Tenor and Teller were both by a bank of computers on standing desks. Tenor looked up and waved. Teller did the same.

I returned the wave and took off. Summer had left already.

It was only Tuesday, so I didn’t stop at the bar. Autumn worked on Wednesdays and the weekends. Wynter often joined her for a few hours here and there, but it was too early for the bar to be open.

This was the most I’d been involved in Copper Summit business for a long time. Usually, I phoned into meetings or read the minutes afterward.

As I walked to my car, I looked back at the old distillery with its large rectangular windows and peaked roof. I was excited as usual to contribute, but this time, I appreciated the opportunity more. The company wasn’t full of people who wanted something out of me.

In town, I parked and stared across the street into the coffee shop. People milled around inside. Why was it so busy at this time of day?

Just then, a group of kids left. Teens. I checked the time. School had gotten out an hour ago. I would’ve spent all my allowance on iced coffees if this place had been around when I’d been their age.

There was a knock on my window. I yelped and spun around.

Bethany waved at me. “Hi!” she said through the closed window.

Rhys glowered behind her, his jaw cracked down like he’d glued his teeth together. Hannah had a hold of his hand. He wasn’t happy to see me, where people might witness us talking and some might recognize me, but a thrill ran through my belly.

He had on a grungy black ball cap, and his worn clothing fit him in all the right places. If he were in a country-boy calendar, he’d be June.

I stuffed my own light-blue ball cap on my head. There was cloud cover overhead, but I stuffed my sunglasses on anyway. Then I got out. “Hi!”

Rhys’s lips twitched. “Sorry, ma’am. I thought you were someone else.”

I gaped at him. Had he just made a joke? I slid my sunglasses down. “It’s me, Junie.”

The girls giggled and I took my sunglasses off. If I wore them in the coffee shop, I’d stand out more. After tossing them into the car, I tucked my hands into my cardigan pockets. “I’m grabbing a coffee.”

“We’re going to the coffee shop too!” Hannah said, tugging on her dad’s hand.

“Wanna come with?” Bethany asked.

Rhys’s jaw flexed. “Wren’s meeting us there. She wants to get the girls a lemonade.”

“Sparkling,” Bethany clarified.

Had he told her I was in town? That I was giving the girls lessons?

“Mommy called today too.” Hannah beamed.

“Oh, that’s nice.” Was that why Rhys looked disgruntled? What did Kirstin think of the lessons?

“We didn’t tell her about you,” Bethany whispered.

Hannah nodded solemnly. “Your secret’s safe with us.”

Rhys refused to meet my gaze. More like I was his secret.

Disappointment sank heavy inside me. I’d keep my coffee shop stop a solo endeavor. My days of being seen at Rhys’s side were long over. “Thank you, and thank you for the invite, but I won’t interfere with Grandma time. Have fun.”

I forced a sunny grin and trotted across the street. Bethany fell in step next to me, Hannah on the other side. A wall of moody heat followed me. This wasn’t very solo.

“The girls want to surprise Kirstin with a concert next time they see her,” Rhys explained.

Oh. My spirits lifted. Rhys probably hadn’t wanted to break the news to his ex that a woman was hanging around him and the girls, but the idea of a surprise for their mom was sweet.

Before I reached the entrance, Rhys rushed around me and grabbed the door. We piled in and he crowded in behind me. The move was so familiar. My daddy used to hold doors for Mama and all of us. He’d take us out and show off his family.

That wasn’t what was happening here though. My emotions had to settle down. Rhys and I were practically strangers.

The scent of roasted coffee surrounded me. The familiar, eclectic vibe of Mountain Perks was comforting. There were three kids ahead of me in line. Two boys and a girl. The girl and one of the guys were bugging the third about what he wanted to drink.

When the girl looked back at her friend, she did a double take. “June Bee?”

My shoulders tightened. I would not act like a diva who couldn’t bother to be recognized. I put on my winning smile. “How’s it going?”

I was swarmed by the kids in the shop. I maneuvered to the side and the crowd followed. Someone shoved a pen in my hand, but I dug my blue Sharpie out of my bag and signed whatever was put in front of me while fielding questions.

The ones from kids were different than press. What’s your favorite song? Are you on vacation? What’s the coolest place you’ve been to? Who’s the meanest celebrity you’ve ever met? The nicest?

My cheeks were aching from my smile. “The nicest people I’ve met haven’t been celebrities. The stadium crews at the venues I played have all been A-plus.”

“What’s Finn Calhoun like?” the girl who’d first spotted me asked.

My smile faltered. He’s a self-absorbed prick with nothing but a nice voice and some muscles. And he was selfish in bed! “He’s...” I could be professional. “He’s, uh...”

“He’s an asshole who cheated on her,” Rhys growled at my side.

The girl’s eyes widened. “Did he really? I thought they say that about every breakup.”

I gave her a sympathetic smile. It sucked when reality shattered admiration for a celebrity, but it wasn’t my fault or the young fan’s. The knot in my shoulders loosened now that I didn’t have to cover for a cheater, thanks to Rhys. “He’s a good singer. But a trash boyfriend.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That sucks. Who are you dating now?” Her questioning gaze lifted to Rhys.

He tensed, and I wanted to laugh. Was this the reaction to being seen together he’d been worried about?

“No distractions for me while I work on my next album. ”

Her face brightened. “You’re writing it here ? In Bourbon Canyon?”

“It’s the best place in the world.” I meant it with my whole soul.

“But you have, like, three houses.”

A house, a condo, two apartments, and the cabin. Five total. “I like to have options, but there’s no place like home. I get to see old friends and family.” That should put any speculation about Rhys to rest.

The last of the crowd filtered away, except for Rhys and the girls and an older woman with smile lines. Her sun-kissed blond and gray hair was pulled back in a bun.

“Junie,” she said, warmth radiating from her expression and her voice.

Rhys’s stepmother. Genuine affection warmed the center of my chest. “Hi, Wren.”

“I heard you were in town.” She pulled me in for a quick hug. “Are you staying after you get your drink?”

Had Rhys told her about me? Doubtful. “I haven’t gotten my tea yet, but I didn’t plan to stay.”

A knowing glint entered her gaze. Was she wondering if it was the crowd or Rhys behind me leaving? “Why don’t you order and sit with us until it’s ready.” She tipped her head. “Maybe you’ll decide to stay longer.”

I opened my mouth to deny the possibility, but she turned, presenting me with her pristine bun. The girls were already at a table and they waved to us.

I almost ordered a sparkling lemonade, but I stuck with an iced chai with oat milk.

“I didn’t know you could milk an oat,” Rhys said from behind me.

I liked growly Rhys a whole lot more than I’d ever thought I would, but he was the same guy who’d always made me laugh when I’d gotten stuck in my head. I turned, saving my eye roll for when he could see. My mouth went dry. A guy should not look that good in blue-and-green flannel and a black T-shirt. His forearms were covered, but I remembered every bulging ridge and vein.

“Milking oats is a hard job,” I said. “You can’t take days off and the oats need to be hooked up morning and night.”

“Good thing I stuck to a cow-calf operation.” He stepped around me to order.

I took the out and created distance between us. While I could be on the other side of town and still be acutely aware of that man, seeing his lighter side scrambled my brain. Tempted me to stay, no matter how close to my ultimate dream I was.

Bethany waved me over as if I couldn’t find them in a coffee shop that was three times narrower than it was long. Her genuine reaction bolstered my steps. The girls enjoyed being around me. Hanging with them was like being around my sisters. To them, I was no longer June Bee, rising star. I was Junie, their guitar teacher who liked their dad’s muffins.

I slid into a chair. The table was smaller than a card table and there were five of us. The empty seat next to me was for Rhys, and I’d practically be in his lap.

I glanced up at his approach. His brows were drawn together and his jaw was tight. He set his drinks down, including mine.

I wrapped my hands around the mug as if I could still feel his touch on the material. I had forgotten to tell them to make my drink to go. “Thank you. ”

“Welcome.” He brushed behind me, his crotch way too close to the back of my head. I should’ve taken the chair closest to Wren.

When he sat, our thighs were pressed against each other. I couldn’t scoot over without falling off and he couldn’t slide the opposite direction without pushing Wren out of her seat.

Instead, he slid backward. I wiggled my chair closer to the table. Wren glanced between us, then took a sip of her sparkling lemonade.

I didn’t know if we were friends or if I was supposed to act like I hadn’t ever seen him naked. Were we just two people who’d gone to high school together? Regardless, we could be civil. Even if my urges around Rhys Kinkade were extremely not civil.

Rhys

Her peony scent curled around me like a lover’s embrace. She’d changed whatever the hell she used for soap since we’d dated.

I took a hard pull from my lemonade. Between the suction and my grip, the plastic cup almost crumpled. I set the drink down before I spilled the remaining juice and ice onto my pants.

At least a groin full of ice would temper the heat that simmered in that region when June was around.

Sitting back, I brushed against her arm. She’d crossed one leg over the other, giving us a little breathing room .

“It’s nice to see you home,” Wren said. She’d been delighted to hear that June was in town. Now she was at the coffee shop with us. She must be elated to see me and June speaking again. Wren had hated our breakup and the reason for it, but she’d supported me.

“It’s great to be back,” June said.

A canned response. I grunted. June shot me a side-eye.

“Are you in between records?” Wren leaned forward. “Is that what they call it? Tours?”

June shrugged, and damn, I had a good view of the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath she took. The damn cardigan hid most of her cleavage.

I tore my gaze away. Annette Prichard entered the coffee shop. She was a couple years younger than me, also divorced, and had a daughter Bethany’s age. We often split duties running kids around if our work got in the way.

Sometimes, she hinted at more. Every time, I pretended to be oblivious.

She waved at the girls, her expression brightening. Her gaze landed on me and her smile widened. She veered toward us. Then she spotted June. Her smile faltered. “Oh my. I didn’t realize we had a celebrity in the house.”

June stiffened. Was it just from being recognized? “Hey, Annette.”

“I don’t usually hear about you being in town until after you’ve left.” Annette’s gaze jumped between me and June. “How nice of you to... visit.”

“Well, it is my home.” The edge in June’s smile wasn’t noticeable if you didn’t know her. I knew her. She was on alert. Over Annette ?

Annette’s eyes narrowed. “You’re back for good?”

“No, I’m still working.” June’s smile dripped with more syrup than Bethany had added to her pancakes. “Nothing like crisp mountain air to fuel the creative juices.”

Impressed at her adept way of ending further inquiries, unless they were regarding her cocksucker of an ex, I reclined in my chair.

“I’m sure.” Annette tugged at the purse strap around her shoulder. “It’s almost like old times, seeing you two together again.”

A zing of alarm shot through me, tensing every muscle it passed. That was what I got for being too relaxed. Annette wasn’t going there, was she? Bringing up old news that was best left in the?—

“You two were what the kids say are ‘hashtag goals’ for couples in high school. I mean, you were together all of high school.”

My stomach hit the heels of my boots. Both of my girls’ spines went ramrod straight.

“What?” Bethany screeched.

“A couple?” Hannah’s eyes were wide.

Bethany sucked in a strangled breath and pounded the table. Dammit, we were turning into a spectacle. “Are you one of her exes?”

June winced. My face flushed hot, then cold. They did not need to piece the past together in the middle of Mountain Perks in front of witnesses. In front of the girl who’d broken my damn heart.

Hannah gripped her sister and they both leaned over the table.

“Dad,” Bethany said as if what was coming out of her mouth next was life or death. “Are any of those songs about you?”

Silence fell over the table. June dropped her head, a red blush wicking up her face. Surprise filled Annette’s face. Everyone probably thought I boasted about my history with country music’s latest sweetheart.

Bethany slumped in her chair. The look of disappointment she shot my way was laughable. “I can’t believe this,” she said dramatically. “My own father.”

I had let her watch too much TV.

“People like to speculate about my lyrics,” June said carefully, “but I’ve never confirmed or denied who, or even if, they’re about anyone in particular. It is true I take inspiration from the feelings I’ve felt before.”

“Are you ‘That Boy’?” Hannah leaned half her body over the table until we were face-to-face. “Did you make her cry all day and night?”

June peeked at me, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Chagrin filled her face. I was that boy. I’d made her cry. I’d given her all the freedom in the world, but I hadn’t asked her to stay.

I wasn’t getting into this bullshit in public. I had to divert. Yet when I glanced at June again, she was fighting a smile.

I was panicking, my kids were looking at me like I was a villain, and she was trying not to laugh? “You find this funny, June Bug?”

She failed to smother a snicker. “No.”

“When you lie, your nose lights up.”

She sucked in an indignant breath. “Rhys Conner Kinkade, that’s not the part you used to say lit up.”

Then her eyes flared like she couldn’t believe she’d just said that out loud, and she dissolved into giggles .

I couldn’t believe it either, but the familiarity had gotten to me. I caught the divots forming between Annette’s brows. Wren watched us with sparkling eyes. What did June and I look like? Reunited lovers?

That wasn’t what we were.

Our situation was unique, and I’d let it be just that for a while.

“Sorry to spill the beans.” Annette gripped her purse strap. “I didn’t realize...”

“Annette.” June gave a dramatic sigh. “Rhys is so forthcoming. I just can’t believe you didn’t know.”

Annette’s laughter burst out of her. “Yes. Very true.” She met my gaze and mouthed sorry before scurrying away.

“Dad should be the one who’s sorry,” Bethany grumbled. She stood, knocking her chair back.

I lunged for it, bumping into June. She caught it and shot me an amused look as she righted the chair.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.” She marched off.

“Me too.” Hannah scurried behind her.

June scooted her chair over, leaving a few inches between us that might as well be a chasm after feeling her pressed against me. My fingers itched to drag her closer again.

Wren folded her napkin into neat little squares. “I never agreed with the secrecy, but I can understand with how Kirstin was.”

I gave Wren a sharp look, and she rolled her lips in, her gaze skating away. What was it with people bringing up shit that wasn’t their business?

June’s stare burned into the side of my face.

Wren shifted her attention to June. “How is Mae? ”

When June’s gaze lifted from me, my lungs could finally expand.

“Good.” Fondness filled June’s eyes. “She loves having Lane and Cruz living there, but I guess Lane is moving to Denver soon. Now that Elsa’s born, Myles plans to train Lane in all things Foster House. Cruz might even get in on it later, but he loves working with Tenor.”

“Those boys are so nice.” Wren folded her hands on the table and continued to pepper June with polite questions about the rest of the Baileys.

I glowered at the top of the table. The girls returned, mutiny in their eyes. I was going to hear about my role in June’s heartbreak. The girls were likely to forgive me though.

A lifetime wasn’t enough for me to forgive myself.