Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

June

More lyrics poured into my head. “I have the chorus,” I muttered as I scribbled. I hummed a tune and repeated the notes on the guitar. “Yes, that’s it.”

Damn that kiss.

Ever since Rhys had trampled over my heart by telling me I was a threat to his kids’ privacy, I’d been filled with inspiration.

I had a third song about star-crossed lovers. They were never in the right place at the right time.

And a fourth about a girl who thinks the guy finally sees her, only to find out that he does and it was exactly why he was walking away.

That was two more songs in a week. A little collaboration with Remi and they’d be ready to record. At this rate, I’d be done with time to spare. Now I was working on a fifth song. This one about a girl returning to her roots to find the one she’d left behind—herself.

My music came from me. I liked to write from the heart. I processed emotions through songwriting, but this one was hitting close to home. Yet I couldn’t stop working on it.

My phone buzzed, but I ignored it. “ She sees herself again in his eyes... ” I stopped strumming and sighed. Of course, the man had to show up in this song too. But that was a killer lyric.

I wrote it down for later and turned the page. I could write one song that wasn’t about heartbreak or rekindling romance, dammit. Sure, those songs spoke to me, and they were still at my center, but I’d also changed. When I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see a heartbroken June Kerrigan. I saw a girl who’d kept going thanks to hope. She’d hoped to do her mamas proud. She’d hoped to show her family how much their support meant. She’d hoped the love of her life would come around. But when he hadn’t, she’d continued on. To be the hope for others in her place.

I scribbled down ideas and lyrics. The song might be a standout on the album, or it might not be included at all, but I’d write it. For me.

My phone rang again. I didn’t know the number, but it was local. I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a second before answering. “Hi, this is Junie.”

“Oh, Junie.” An older woman’s voice cracked on the end of the line. “This is Wilna, from the church.”

Bourbon Canyon had four churches and even more bars, but we all knew which one Wilna meant. She was a living legend in town. Well into her golden years, she still ran the bachelor auction fundraiser and bingo nights, and to be honest, she ran the church too. “Hi, Wilna. How’s it going? ”

“Oh, you know. Listen, we’re not holding the auction this year.”

“Oh?” The fundraiser had been responsible for getting Tate and Scarlett together. It’d been a Bourbon Canyon staple for at least ten years.

“Unless you can talk Tenor or Teller into putting themselves up, we’re seeing diminishing returns.” She paused like she was waiting for me to say I’d have my brothers signed up by the end of the day.

Teller would not agree to it. Ever. Tenor would die of mortification if he was ever on the auction block. His skin would catch fire from his blush burning too hot.

“So,” she said, a wistful tone in her voice, “I was thinking of trying something else this year, maybe give it a break for a year or two and see if it rebounds. And then I heard you were in town.”

Dread churned in my belly.

“It’d be small,” she rushed on like she sensed my hesitation. “I thought we could sell seats for a certain number of supporters. You’d have final say, of course.”

No, my manager usually would. There’d be negotiations and contracts. I was managerless for the near future but there were plenty of people on my team who’d have opinions about an impromptu performance, and they’d all want their cut.

“If you need to think about it, that’s just fine,” Wilna continued. “And if you don’t want to, don’t worry. I understand. You’re a good kid and you’re so busy. I’m sure so many people are demanding your time.”

There had to be another way to help without involving my team and risking word getting out that I was having management issues before an album release and tour. I liked to play music, and I loved watching people listen to it. I adored being heard.

What if that was all it was? “What day is the fundraiser?”

“I was thinking of doing it at the end of June this year.”

Crap, maybe this wouldn’t work. “I have to return to Nashville at the end of June. I leave on the twenty-eighth.”

“The twenty-seventh is a Saturday. A perfect day for a gathering. We can do it in the afternoon.”

I didn’t have a lot to pack. I just had to drive to Nashville. Alone. “I’ll be honest, Wilna, I’m not sure what my team would allow, and I don’t want to drag you through negotiations for something that’s supposed to raise money.” I couldn’t let red tape stop me. I hadn’t come this far only to fail at helping Wilna for a simple fundraiser. “What about if I just happen to be playing in the park that day?”

“Oh... I’m picking up what you’re putting down. Yes, we can reserve a shelter at the park, have a bunch of goodies and food and do a freewill donation.”

“I don’t know if it’ll bring in what the bachelor auction would?—”

“Yes. It will.”

Her confidence was heartening. “I have to ask a favor. Since I’m trying to lie low...”

“You don’t want to flood our little town with lookie-loos. You just show up and let us hear your pretty voice and we’ll let the local news mill do its thing.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I might make some pointed hints so people’ll want to stop by just in case. ”

After we hashed out some details, I disconnected. Smiling, I picked out the song I’d written for Jonah and Summer’s wedding and gazed at the trees and the way the land dipped into the valley.

I had something to look forward to other than seeing the girls and Rhys every Sunday.

I looked forward to seeing the girls tomorrow. Would I see Rhys after that second kiss? Would he come to the performance in the park?

He hadn’t seen me play any shows. He’d admitted to spying on my social media, but other than the rookie appearances I’d done around town, he hadn’t seen a real show. I used to dream about looking out from the stage and seeing him. I used to fantasize that I’d finish my show and run right into his arms.

It’s too hard to let you go, and I will let you go, June. Don’t doubt me on that.

I flubbed a note.

Letting out a frustrated growl, I put the guitar down.

I didn’t need him, and where my career was concerned, I couldn’t count on him. I’d done everything on my own and it would stay that way.

Rhys

I paced inside the shop. The big door was open. June was in the house with the girls for their weekly lesson. Next week would be the last week until the kids were back from Wren’s. They were already asking when they could restart. They swore Wren would let them practice at her house, but I couldn’t bring myself to give them a response. A yes would mean June was still interacting with my family. I’d hear about it. A no would mean she was done. For good. Unless her car broke down somewhere between my house and town. Until she left for good. Again.

. . . you should probably stop kissing me.

She’d been right. I was the one who’d initiated lip-to-lip contact both times. I was the one who couldn’t keep his hands off her. She might’ve gotten close, but I’d had more control over myself as a kid.

As a kid, she’d been mine.

I rubbed the back of my neck and walked from the barn to the house. Goldie trotted next to me. The dog was in love with June too. She waited by the door when June’s car pulled up and got pets and baby talk.

I was jealous of a damn dog.

A knot next to one of my shoulder blades thrummed with my heartbeat. Maybe I needed a massage.

I’d never gotten a massage in my life.

Just as I crested the drive, June emerged from the back door, her guitar case slung over her shoulder. Would she ignore me? Give me a glare or a cool stare?

When she saw me, a saucy smirk curved those pretty pink lips. “Decide to risk getting within a hundred yards of me?”

The tension defused, leaving behind sheepishness. A hundred yards was too fucking far away. “I can yell at you from the barn instead. I’ve got a pair in there that keeps trying to die on me.”

Concern filled her face. “The mama or the calf?”

“Both. Treated the mama first, then she wouldn’t let her bull calf drink. ”

“Did you give her a nice teat massage?” June asked, her tone deceptively innocent.

My body’s reaction to her question was not. Her creamy breasts flashed through my mind instead of an engorged udder. “As a matter of fact, I did. The heifers around here are not appreciative of my teat massages.”

She nodded knowingly. “They might be used to you trying to kiss them.”

“I can one hundred and infinity percent control myself around a cow.”

She looked at me from under her lashes. “It’s around me you can’t?”

The shyness of her question caught me off guard. No, I couldn’t control myself around her. It was why I should be at the barn yelling a quick thanks, see ya before minding my business. Yet I was within feet of her and it was still too far.

Bethany banged out the door. “Did you hear that she’s going to be playing at the bachelor fundraiser?”

Dismay stained my tongue. June was going to hang around a ton of bachelors? Was she going to bid?

She shook her head. “No, not the auction.” She held her hands up. “I’m playing in the park for fun, remember?”

Bethany’s mouth rounded into an O. “Riiiiight. There’re no bachelors.”

Hannah charged out. “No batch lores.”

June shrugged. “I can’t play for money without involving my team, so I’m just gonna play and Wilna’s going to get as many people as she can to come and donate money for the goodies she’s going to have there.”

Many a bachelor had been lured into the auction. Most had donated their time and their muscles and would do a day of work, but I’d heard last year’s auction had been a flop. Women had given up on another Bailey stepping onto the block.

“Wilna keeps asking Daddy to do the fundraiser,” Bethany said.

June arched a brow at me. “You never participated?”

My cheeks heated. For the last three years, Wilna had asked me what kind of bachelor auction it was when the most eligible bachelors in town didn’t participate. No way was I wading into that mess. I wasn’t getting some woman’s hopes up that I actually had a heart to give. “No. I never did.”

“She begged,” Hannah announced with utmost authority. Both girls had overheard the conversation in the grocery store when a tiny elderly woman ambushed me in the cereal aisle.

June’s light-brown brow quirked. “If only Wilna knew begging wasn’t the way to make him say yes.”

I narrowed my eyes. What was she getting at?

Her smirk turned sly. “Wilna should’ve tickled you.”

Shit.

Bethany giggled. “Daddy’s not ticklish.”

“He’s so ticklish,” June argued.

Shit, shit, shit. I could’ve gone a lifetime without this secret being unearthed.

“No, Mommy tried.” Hannah jumped in to support her sister. They might adore June, but they’d fight her on this.

Confusion filled June’s expression as she looked at me. “Did you, like, grow out of it or something?”

“Or something.” Any chance that would be a good enough answer ?

Bethany crossed her arms and kicked a hip out. “Mommy used to say he’s a brick.”

Kirstin had meant my emotions, but I kept my mouth shut.

June studied me. In a heartbeat, all three girls were regarding me with crossed arms and cocked hips.

“Which is it, Rhys?” June asked, her tone half-teasing and half-serious. “Are you ticklish or not?”

I worked my jaw back and forth. My mouth would be better staying shut around the girls.

June tapped her fingers against her upper arms. “Because I remember how you used to squeal like a stuck pig when I tickled your armpits. You would jump so high when I touched your sides.”

“Daddy used to squeal?” Bethany giggled.

“Jumped so high,” Hannah mimicked June’s taunting tone.

June would keep goading me and the girls would delight in it. Or... I could make June squirm.

“I don’t know, June Bug. Why would a teenage boy pretend to be ticklish around a cute girl?”

June’s laughter hitched. Her smile died, and I choked on my snicker. I quietly waited for her to put the pieces together.

“You aren’t ticklish?”

The scandal in her tone prompted a snort from me.

She sucked in a gasp. “You were faking? We used to wrestle so I could tickle—” She snapped her mouth shut, her gaze darting to my bewildered children.

“And then what?” This time, my tone was deceptively innocent. “What would happen?”

Her cheeks turned pink, and I grinned.

“The audacity,” she muttered .

I lost my battle with my laughter. June used to love thinking she got the upper hand by tickling me. Instead, I’d gotten both her hands on me, and she would burrow in close. Those tickle wars had turned steamy more often than not.

Bethany wrinkled her nose. “I’m confused.”

June pretended to glare at me, but humor danced in the honeyed depths of her eyes. “Your dad was making me think I was getting what I wanted when he was actually getting what he wanted.”

“I like to think we were both benefiting.” The lightness inside of me was from laughing with June again. From not dreading the twist of emotions when I saw her. From not avoiding her.

I’d been handling the situation all wrong. June being in Bourbon Canyon wasn’t something I should grit my teeth through. It just was. I was me, and she was her, and that was the way it’d always been. We both knew our futures went in different directions. So why not enjoy these moments when they converged?