Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

June

I sat with Scarlett and Autumn in Curly’s, our favorite bar and grill. Bourbon Canyon’s only bar and grill. Before my voice was on the radio, he’d always seated us in the back, yet my brothers got a table at the front window. My sisters and I were “just” Kerrigans in his eyes, and we didn’t have the status of our Bailey brothers. Now that I was June Bee, he’d tried to put me and my sisters front and center, but I’d smiled sweetly and asked for a table in the back. “For privacy,” I’d said, enjoying his disgruntled acceptance. Two could play his games, but I really did want privacy.

Curly was old-fashioned in the worst of ways, but he made excellent food and we were on our third basket of buns. We were having an early dinner. What had been a sparsely filled restaurant was now half-full. The Saturday night crowd would start to pour in soon.

People around town were getting used to seeing me. I’d ventured onto social media platforms and there’d been speculation, but most of my fans had pushed back, insisting I was holed up writing my next greatest hits. They cited the selfies I’d taken with the kids in the coffee shop. After the news clip, the posts had blown up. My supporters guessed I was in town to write and prepare for my release and rumored tour. They wanted the tour announced and didn’t want me interrupted.

I loved my fans. But reading those words piled giant boulders onto my chest until I struggled to breathe.

“You’re stressing,” Autumn said around a mouthful of bun.

I scowled at her. I still had five songs to write. “How can you tell?”

“Your eyes are glazed, and you haven’t finished buttering your bun.”

Scarlett nodded like it was obvious.

My knife was poised over the bread. Curly made his famous bourbon cinnamon butter from Copper Summit products. I’d let him seat me in the parking lot for that spread, yet I was staring at the wall instead.

Should I tell them that I was worried I wouldn’t finish the album? I was, but those thoughts weren’t dominating my brain. My mind strayed for a reason that had nothing to do with my career. The reason was six foot two, bearded, and a phenomenal baker.

And I had a month left to be frustrated with him. Yes, I needed some of those boulders lifted from my lungs. “I found out Rhys just let me think he was ticklish the whole time we dated.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened. “Why would he do that?” She wrinkled her nose. “Never mind. I’ve had dates pretend worse things. ”

Autumn patted her arm. “We had to wade through some frogs to get to our princes.”

“Except those guys thought I was the frog.” Her gaze went dreamy. “I don’t have to worry about any of that with Tate.”

Gah, I wanted what she had. She was stupid in love, and Tate earned that feeling. She could trust him until the end of time.

“Have you decided yet if that was incredibly sweet or decidedly creepy?” Autumn asked.

“Nothing Rhys does falls into the creepy category. Not with me.” He’d done it for me and not his wife. My heart went out to her. How many times had I been in her place, the woman wondering why I wasn’t enough for a guy?

I never thought I’d be the why for someone else.

“I can’t believe he admitted it.” Autumn leaned back while our food was delivered. After the young server left, she scooted closer to the table. “Lessons going okay with Bethany and Hannah?”

I rolled my eyes and dug into my rib eye. “Subtle.”

“I thought so,” Scarlett agreed. “We’re dying to know, but we know it’s not our business.”

“So we talk about it at work,” Autumn said, “but school’s out soon. Then what are we going to do?”

“Your husbands,” I joked and crunched my rising envy under my boot. I was irritated with them for asking about Rhys. I was jealous they had someone at home.

Scarlett poked at her sweet potato. “The drawback of being a teacher is that if I have a day off, the kids have a day off. Chance does, anyway. The other two are in day care for the school year. But enough about us.” Her gaze lifted to behind me and brightened. “The girls can tell me themselves how lessons are going.” She smiled and waved.

I whipped my head around and met Rhys’s closed-off stare. He cocked a brow. I shrugged. I hadn’t known they’d be eating out tonight, not that I would’ve changed my plans.

Bethany and Hannah were weaving through tables behind their dad. The hostess stopped at a booth, but the girls kept going. Hannah threw herself at me for a hug, then went around the table, embracing everyone else. Bethany did the same after her.

Rhys murmured a few words to the hostess and walked toward us with that rolling gait of his. He’d taken his hat off and finger-combed his dark wavy hair. His beard had been trimmed, and he wore a navy cable-knit sweater instead of flannel tonight.

He could close the distance and give me a hug. I’d stuff my face into that soft shirt and lean against his granite abs. I’d soak up his warmth.

I’d do more than that. I’d get hopelessly turned on, and it was already impossible to go to sleep without fantasizing about him in bed with me.

“Hey,” I said. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“That’s small town for ya.” He lifted his chin toward the remnants of the bourbon butter. “Which line?”

“Oldest Summit. The line Daddy made for Tate.”

A ghost of a smile played over his lips. “You missed when Curly did June’s Summit bourbon butter. He claimed he was kicking off your last tour, but I think he was trying to ride your coattails.”

“He wouldn’t be Curly if he wasn’t capitalizing on the Bailey family.”

Autumn cleared her throat. She had an arm around Hannah. Bethany was between her and Scarlett and they were all watching us.

Rhys dipped his head. “Ladies,” he said gruffly.

He and I had been talking like there was no one else in the restaurant, much less at the table.

“I was just asking Junie how lessons were going,” Scarlett said, “and then poof—you appeared.”

“They’re good,” he replied.

“I can play all the notes,” Bethany said proudly.

“She’s working on ‘Brown Eyed Girl,’” I answered. She struggled, but she was stubborn, like her dad.

“I didn’t like it,” Hannah said. “I’m doing ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.’”

Rhys tapped the back of my chair. “Come on, girls. Their food’s getting cold.”

I’d forgotten I had a steak waiting for me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You can come eat with us,” Bethany offered.

“Oh no?—”

“I have to go soon,” Scarlett blurted out. “In fact, I might have to take this to go.”

Kerrigan sisters weren’t the only bad liars.

Autumn yawned. “And I told Gideon I’d help him at the house tomorrow.”

I’d wager half a concert’s revenue that was false. “I thought you hired contractors.”

“We did. We need to figure out, you know, the details.” She flagged down one of the teen servers rushing past and asked for to-go boxes. “Girls, do you want to help June move her plate?”

Embarrassment cut off my air. I sputtered.

Autumn snapped her fingers. “A ride. Scarlett’s chauffeured all of us. Rhys, do you mind seeing June home? ”

His expression was deadpan. I’d rub my temples, but that’d only show how tragically badly this was being staged.

“Sure,” he said.

The to-go boxes were dropped on the table, and three minutes later, I was seated by Rhys.

Rhys

All I’d wanted was a quiet night without figuring out what to make for dinner. No juggling Bethany’s hatred of green beans and most other green foods with Hannah’s adamant protests that cooked vegetables are awful. They both agreed we had too many hamburger-based meals, except for hamburgers themselves, and while they claimed they liked pork, their actions didn’t match their words. Every time I mentioned chicken, they groaned. I was running out of protein sources. Yet if Curly’s prepared the same exact thing I would’ve cooked, the girls loved it.

June’s body heat seeped into me. The girls had argued over who got to sit next to June and had compromised; neither of them would get the honor. They’d put her next to me.

She was close, but we weren’t touching. Something I’d like to remedy. I’d fought my libido for the entire meal, starting from when June had excitedly chatted with each girl about their favorite thing to eat to now, when I wanted the check to arrive but also hoped it’d take another hour .

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” Hannah said. Both girls scooted out of their side of the booth and hurried off.

“That’s twice,” June said. “Are they feeling okay?”

“We’re lucky to get out with under three bathroom breaks. It depends on how bored they are.”

The check came.

The girl who’d waited on us hesitated with her hand on the receipt, her gaze on June. “I, um, didn’t know what to do with your meal...”

Instead of telling the teenager she could’ve asked, June smiled her social media special grin. “It’s fine. I’m treating everyone tonight.”

“No, you’re not.” I dug out my wallet. “Keep it all together.”

June blinked. “I can pay.”

“I know.” I handed the server my card and she scurried off.

June spun farther in her seat. “I crashed your meal.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“It sounds better than my sisters dumped me on you.”

I didn’t mind June joining us. I liked it too much, as was often the case when it came to her. The why behind her sisters’ sudden departure intrigued me. They had seemed like they were spending quality time together.

Did her sisters know something I didn’t? Was the chemistry between us so powerful it made people around us hope that we’d become a thing once more? They’d been left wanting once, and I had no desire to repeat history.

Except I had a lot of desire for June. “The girls always enjoy your company. ”

“I love hanging out with them.” She took a long pull from her ice water and glanced around the restaurant. Every table was full, and with the way we were sitting, we looked like we were on a date, cozied up on the same side of the booth.

June had garnered discreet attention all night. People murmured when they saw her, a few had stopped by to tell her they loved her music, and a couple of girls a little older than Bethany had asked for autographs, but otherwise, we’d been left alone.

I was tempted to lean in, chat with her like we used to, as if these booths were the entirety of our world. I kept my ass in place. “Is your writing coming around?”

Her soft smile went straight to my gut. “Yeah, it is. I think it’s really going to be a fresh album. Less heartbreak and more... appreciation. Hope.” Her full lips curved further. “Of course, there’s a fair share of missing-him songs. Those sell too well to not include.”

While I liked that she’d gotten her muse back, that she was healing from the bullshit caused by her manager, discontent settled hard in my stomach, right next to the ribs and mashed potatoes I’d just eaten. Her album would be a hit. I didn’t have to hear a single song to know. “Your tour is going to span the world?”

Excitement lit her eyes. “It’s going to be a year long. London, Paris, Sydney. Toronto, of course. So far, I have a few opening acts I’ve requested. Lucy shot down the ones I’ve scrolled past in my feed, but I’m going to talk to my new manager about how important it is to me. I shouldn’t have to be at the pinnacle of my career to finally have that much of a say.”

“But you do? ”

She nodded. “It’s give and take, but sometimes I feel like I give up a lot more.”

The girls emerged from the hall of the bathroom, but they were waylaid by the display case full of specialty muffins and pies. Curly’s baked goods were on par with his buns. He pimped Copper Summit bourbon in those too. I kept trying to copy his bourbon butterscotch muffins.

“Do you get to visit all the places you perform in?” I threaded my napkin through my fingers.

She didn’t respond right away. “I love performing. The crowd. The connection. It’s intoxicating to connect with that many people at once. I never forget that it’s their support that makes my job possible. I love it.” Her smile mirrored the joy she received on stage, then she looked down and grew serious. “But there’s not often time to play tourist. And it does get lonely,” she finally said. She leaned on her elbow and faced me, giving us the illusion of more privacy. “It’s rare these days that my family can meet me in a city and travel around. Sometimes, I’ve had someone, but often, if they were on tour with me, they had their own obligations.”

I shredded my napkin. Her fucking worthless boyfriends.

“I’m not going to let that stop me this time.” She shook her head. “I’ll have more say about my schedule than when I joined another performer’s tour. I’ll be busier, but it’ll be an experience of a lifetime. I don’t know. Maybe Lucy was onto something, and I have to date my opening act.”

“The fuck you do.” Anger was a firebrand against my ribs. “You don’t need a fucking man to do what you want. ”

“But it’d be nice to have someone to do things with. I’m surrounded by people on the road and it’s lonely. I bought homes, thinking that’d help. I played in Florida a lot and I love the beach, but I hardly get to use it. I think New York City is amazing and so different from Montana or Nashville. Same with LA.”

“I hated both those cities.”

“Because you were alone too?”

Any response died on my tongue. The topic of my mom was off-limits. Why had I even alluded to my experiences as a kid alone in the city?

The feelings from that time roared back. Alone and scared. Eating out of a can. Mom would sometimes be gone overnight, and I’d be in charge of getting myself to school.

I massaged the middle of my forehead. I’d never leave the girls overnight. They could be eighteen and I’d still feel like shit if I left them.

Eating out of a can?

Acid swelled in my stomach, churning away at my dinner. Bethany and Hannah helped me with meals, but they’d never had to eat alone while wondering when I would get home. They’d never had to go to bed wondering if I’d be there to take them to school in the morning.

I’d blocked out so many individual experiences, I’d forgotten what my childhood had been like. Or the things Mom had said. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be so much further ahead by now.

“Rhys? Are you all right?” June’s warm breath wafted across my cheek.

I shoved those memories to the far recesses of my mind. My kids didn’t have to experience what I had because they had a nice, stable home. I made sure of it. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t like cities.”

Her eyes narrowed on me, but just as she opened her mouth, the girls returned to the table.

I snatched the opportunity for escape. “What was the best-looking muffin?”