Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

June

I wandered into Rhys’s kitchen. The smell of meatloaf and baked potatoes filled the air. My stomach was growling. I wasn’t cooking a lot at the cabin. I’d been going to Mama’s for home-cooked meals, but I made sure I didn’t do that every night, or she’d worry I wasn’t interested in taking care of myself.

I was used to eating on the run, being served lighter food that wouldn’t bog me down on tour or make me sleepy, and even trying new places that had the words “fine dining” or “gourmet” in their descriptions. But I missed the food I was raised on. Mostly, I missed sitting at a table surrounded by loved ones.

Tonight, I’d get the experience without worrying Mama. Bethany and Hannah had convinced Rhys to ask me to stay for dinner after lessons because his meatloaf was the best ever.

Rhys’s back was to me as he prepared a green salad to go with dinner. The way he’d shut down last night had left my head spinning. He’d gone from locked in his head to doting dad in a second.

How had I never noticed how he acted when his mom was brought up?

Because I’d been so absorbed in my own trauma and focused on my own dreams. And because he’d let me.

I hovered by the table, unsure of what to do and confused about how I looked back on our time together. “I swear, you don’t have to feed me every time you see me.”

He shrugged as he chopped a tomato. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What’s your secret?” I drifted closer. “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” was getting picked out on a guitar in the living room. The girls wanted to put on a show for Wren when they went to stay there next week.

“I don’t mind being around you.”

Oh. I rubbed a hand down my arm. “I was prepared for a confession that your meatloaf was store-bought, or that Wren had made it, or that it isn’t really that good and the girls want me to be a distraction so they don’t have to eat it.”

His chuckle rumbled nice and deep. “It’s homemade—by me—and it doesn’t suck, I promise.”

I propped a hip on the counter opposite the sink a few feet away from him, far enough for this moment to not feel so intimate. “I don’t mind being around you either. But you always seem to get stuck with me.”

He dumped the tomato pieces into the bowl and grabbed the cucumber sitting by the cutting board. “Not feeling stuck with you has been the root issue.”

Warmth swirled in my belly. “True.” The way Rhys had always made me feel set him apart from other men. He could warm me up until I felt safe and secure, or he could heat up my insides until I combusted.

Thankfully, that part of us hadn’t changed since we were kids. We’d gone from years of avoiding each other to enjoying the other’s company. Never mind the kisses. Those had been an anomaly. They didn’t fit into our timeline. They stood out. Unforgettable but out of place. Like me in this kitchen.

“You’re not so bad when you’re not being a grump.”

He cocked a brow. “I’m not a grump.”

“You’re right. I forgot about all the smiling you do around me.”

This time, he laughed. “I bet your fans don’t know you’re a smart-ass.”

Some of my humor died. “No, that’s not my image. Sweet June Bee with her heart getting broken? They’d never want to hear about the June Bee that told her ex to chew his dick off.”

The knife skated against the cutting board. “Was that helpful advice for him?”

“Yes, but I guess that really isn’t a good smart-ass example. Maybe the time the hockey player said he hadn’t had sex with the naked girl in the picture on his phone, and I told him I wished his brains were as sharp as his blades.”

“Oof. That’s more snarky than smart-ass.”

“He argued that I thought I was smarter than him, I said obviously not, since I’d thought a pro hockey player could be faithful.”

“Throwing the whole profession under the bus?”

“I kind of did, but I was justifiably upset. Half his team had known he was fucking around. Bro code. ”

He tossed the cucumber slices into the bowl. “The only bro code I lived by was treating you right so your brothers wouldn’t kill me.”

“Was that the only motivation you had?”

“It’s still my main motivation.”

I playfully shoved at his shoulder. “What can I help with?”

“If you set the table, you’ll be the girls’ hero forever.”

“Sold.” I dug out plates and forks. The girls rushed in, poring over plans to serenade Wren next weekend. I finished setting the table and we all sat.

“Are you going to be here for the show?” Bethany asked as we settled around the table.

Next Sunday would’ve been our normal lesson time, but Rhys was taking them to Wren’s on Saturday. “I don’t think so.”

“You have to be,” Hannah said.

“We’ll be at Wren’s around three,” Rhys said. “You’re welcome to see the performance. Then she’ll want you to stay for dinner.”

Another dinner by itself would be hard to pass up. I enjoyed visiting with Wren, and I’d love to see the show the girls put on.

Hannah went ramrod straight and her eyes were bright. “You can sing with us!”

Bethany gasped. “Can you?”

Stunned, I glanced at Rhys first. The girls had worked so hard to master their songs. He lifted a shoulder as if to say it was up to me. “Only if you want?—”

“Yes!” they both cried.

I laughed. Performing wasn’t going to feel like such a solitary endeavor tomorrow night. “Just one song. I don’t want to take over, and I’m not going to play the guitar. We all want to hear you.”

They wiggled in their seats and dug into their food.

Bethany heaped a forkful of meatloaf into her mouth. “When do we get to do another lesson?”

Rhys met my gaze, but I could only shrug. I had time, but I didn’t, and I didn’t want to intrude on their time with Wren.

“June’s busy working,” he answered. “And she’s leaving soon after.”

“Two weeks after.” I was stuck at five songs and had half a sixth that I’d probably end up scrapping. It was about a lonely boy who grew into a closed-off man. While I stuck to popular themes that resonated with me when I wrote, the song didn’t feel like my story. I wasn’t familiar enough with the material, though I should have been.

“What about the Sunday before you leave?” Bethany frantically looked between the two of us. Her eyes were watery, like she was devastated to realize today had been our last lesson. Hannah’s expression matched hers.

Rhys gave me a noncommittal shrug as if to say it was my decision.

“I’d be happy to,” I said. “It’ll give us a chance to say goodbye.”

Rhys tucked his chin down and concentrated on his meatloaf.

“What if I forget everything until then?” Hannah’s eyes were wide.

I smiled. They were very serious about their lessons. “You won’t, but I can give you homework. The same as before—keep quizzing each other on counting and notes. ”

Bethany nodded, her expression intent. “Is that what you do?”

I finished my mouthful, considering the answer. “Practice is always good, but I also like to challenge myself with other things. One of my ex—uh, old friends, used to play drums and he was teaching me.”

Rhys’s fork thunked on his plate as he sawed a chunk off his meatloaf. Jealous?

I liked the thought way too much. I’d made a lot of money off a song about my jealousy, but penning “Emerald Rain” and singing it was a lot different than seeing a guy feel the same over me. When that guy was Rhys, I might reveal a little more than I should.

“He was also a phenomenal fiddle player.” Finn’s set included a song he played with his violin. “I got some lessons on that too. I even have a violin now.”

Hannah’s eyes sparkled. “Cool!”

Rhys chewed his food like he was pulverizing gravel. I caught his eye and grinned. He only narrowed his gaze on me, a promise of retribution in his eyes.

I regretted telling him he’d have to quit kissing me. If I could write a hit song half a country away from him, I’d love to know what I could do when I was within arm’s reach.

After the meal was cleaned up, the girls asked me to read them stories. Rhys had run outside to finish up evening chores and close the chicken coop.

He walked into the house and hung his ball cap by the door. I tracked him while Hannah showed off her reading skills with a book about warrior cats. He shrugged out of his green flannel and tossed it into the laundry room. The black T-shirt left behind hugged his broad chest. If I’d hung around for a few more years, would I have ever been able to leave a fully mature and filled-out Rhys?

I was planning to do just that in a month. But we weren’t a thing like we’d been then.

He reached behind his head and yanked up his shirt. A strip of his abs was bared and—He caught me staring and released his shirt. A flush wicked up my body.

I gave him a look that said don’t let me stop you , and he smirked. Adjusting his shoulders so his shirt draped back over those sinful abs, he toed out of his boots.

“Dad, can we watch a movie?” Bethany asked. “June said she hasn’t seen the newest Percy Jackson series.”

“That’s not a movie,” he said and leaned against the wall between the kitchen and living room.

Bethany grinned like she knew exactly what she was asking. They’d already hit me up for a movie-and-popcorn night, but I’d deflected, telling them it was up to their dad. I’d absolutely stay, but it also wasn’t my place to decide.

Would he be okay with the plan? I hadn’t had a movie-and-popcorn night in so long. My sisters and I used to do them when we were all home, but they had their families now.

“Two episodes.” He looked at me and the heat from earlier rushed back. “You staying?”

Relief and excitement filled my heart. “I’ve heard I can’t miss it.” Just like I couldn’t miss the chance he’d change out of his shirt where I could see.

He pushed off the wall. “Go ahead and start the show. I’ll throw some popcorn in and take a quick shower.”

By the time he was done, I was flanked on both sides on the couch by the girls as they rattled off Percy Jackson details.

Rhys handed out buckets of popcorn and took a seat on the recliner. He’d slicked back his damp hair, making his cheekbones sharper and his blue eyes more piercing. I had to refrain from glancing at him every five minutes to get an eyeful. The gray sweats and plain white tee he wore didn’t help.

Whenever the girls giggled or exchanged excited notes about the storyline, I caught Rhys’s eye and smiled. I used to be like them with my sisters when we’d get into the same shows or books. That no longer happened as much, like the movie-and-popcorn nights. My siblings had more going on in their lives than ever, but I wasn’t home enough. Wynter had left Montana after school, but she’d eventually returned. Same with Summer. Autumn had never left, and Scarlett had moved to Bourbon Canyon for her job and then married Tate.

Homesickness filled me. But I was home now. Right?

Was the cabin my home?

My house in Nashville?

The condo in Tampa?

I was hardly in New York anymore, and I made more appearances online than in person. I could just as well let my LA lease expire.

By the time the second episode was done, Rhys was dozing in the recliner. I shut the TV off. “Can y’all tiptoe to bed without waking your dad?” I whispered.

Bethany’s eyes were pleading. “He always falls asleep, and we get to watch shows until midnight. ”

“Is it usually a Sunday night right before your last week of school?” I whispered.

She pouted. Hannah scooted to the edge of the couch. When she stood, she turned and draped her little arms around my neck. “Good night, June. Thanks for watching Percy Jackson with us.” Her hug got tight for a second, then she trudged off. Another five minutes on the couch and she would’ve been snoozing like her dad.

Bethany did the same. “Thanks for hanging out with us tonight.”

Their little voices in my ear and those sweet hugs caused an ache in my chest, a longing I hadn’t thought I’d have. My life wasn’t suited to having kids. Lots of singers had kids, they even toured while pregnant, but I’d want a more stable schedule, quicker modes of transportation, and larger spaces to relax.

I walked them to the base of the stairs and waited until they turned at the top to look back and wave. Going all the way to their bedroom felt intrusive. I was a guest. Guitar tutors didn’t tuck their clients in. It wasn’t appropriate.

I went to the living room. The TV was dark and the one lamp on in the corner cast shadows over Rhys’s face. The line across his forehead was gone, his usual hard expression softened by sleep.

As teens, we hadn’t been able to sleep together until that last night. Otherwise, we’d stolen little naps here and there. I’d never been able to pull a fast one over Mama and Daddy. If I told them I was sleeping over at a friend’s house, they made damn sure I was at that friend’s. There’d been no sneaking around together other than some stolen afternoons and evenings at the cabin .

I should just leave and let him doze. He’d wake and head to bed.

My feet started moving before my decision was made. I didn’t move toward the door. I stopped beside the recliner. My fingers itched to curve through his hair, to feel the soft strands tickle my palms once again.

“Rhys,” I said softly.

His brow furrowed and he snuggled deeper into his seat. It’d be so easy to climb into the chair with him and curl up, my head on his shoulder. I’d done it before, once upon a time.

Enough reminiscing. I tapped him on the shoulder. “Rhys.”

He blinked his eyes open. A sleepy smile warmed the denim blue of his irises and the invite was apparent. I could crawl right into that chair with him.

Just as I was about to answer with a smile of my own, he blinked harder and frowned. “Are the girls in bed?”

The moment was gone. I nodded. “Yeah, Hannah barely made it through the second episode. Bethany tried to bargain for more, but I figured you’d want them to get some rest.”

He put the footrest down and sat forward. Letting out a breath, he scrubbed his face. “You gotta get home.”

Reality smacked me across the back of the head. For a whisper of a moment, I had forgotten that I wasn’t where I was supposed to be. “Home. Right. Yes. Sorry I kept them up late.”

He cut his hand through the air. “Not your fault. It’s the last week of school. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“It really was a dad thing to do.”

His chuckle gusted out. “Did I snore?”

“So loud. We could hardly hear the TV. ”

“My songbird’s a smart-ass.”

I smiled, but the air was charged between us. I would torture myself if I stayed and hoped something would happen. Just like he’d torture himself if I stayed and something did happen.

“It’s early yet,” he said gruffly.

Yes, it was early-ish for an adult. But I also didn’t want to leave. I wasn’t sure I could trust myself if he tried something either. Regardless, the words good and bye weren’t on my tongue. “I didn’t sleep half the evening.”

He rose, towering over me. “Neither did I, smart-ass.” He started for the kitchen. “Want a drink?”

My gaze was glued to the globes of his ass flexing under his sweats. I wanted so much more than a drink.