Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Rhys

June’s laughter filled the kitchen. Fuck me, having that sound in my home was a pleasure I had never imagined. I’d loved her laugh before. It was as melodic as her singing, always had been. Hearing it now hit differently. She had options and she’d chosen them. I had encouraged her to. But this house was mine, and she was also choosing to be here.

The moment was bittersweet. She wasn’t mine, but the days were so much brighter with her than without.

I poured her a vodka and orange juice. “You are not the reason I don’t have Copper Summit in the house.”

She put her hand on her chest and gasped dramatically. “Are you saying that seeing a bottle of Copper Summit wasn’t so torturous that you couldn’t have it under the same roof?”

I poured myself the same drink and left the bottle in the middle of the table with the OJ. “If that was the case, I’d have had to move from Bourbon Canyon.”

A beat of sadness went through her eyes before they sharpened. “Kirstin?”

“It would’ve been disrespectful when you’re tied so closely to Copper Summit.” Kirstin already had enough to deal with when it came to my baggage. “Now, there’s just no good time for a drink. This shit’s ten years old.”

“Daddy used to say the best spirit is the one you enjoy with family and friends.” She took a drink, holding the glass loosely. Her other arm was folded over her belly, and she had her bare feet kicked up on the chair next to her. Long strands of brownish and blue hair hung from the knot she’d tied it in. “So old vodka is the best vodka.”

“That’s not a saying.” How easy would it be to scoot to the chair next to her, lift her feet and put them in my lap? I could rest my hand on her shins and we’d just talk, like we used to.

“We’ll make it one.”

We . The vodka warmed the cool path the juice had left. The heat went straight to my groin. Waking up to her had been like falling further into a dream that felt so real. I’d woken up to the woman I had thought would be my forever. The last fifteen years had fallen away. For a moment, I was submersed in the fantasy that we’d gotten married. This was our house. She’d tucked our girls in bed.

Somewhere in Costa Rica, Kirstin’s eye must be twitching.

I loved my daughters, and I wasn’t wishing away my marriage. I just wanted... something different. A woman who was mine and who loved those girls more than anything.

She swirled her glass, relaxed in her chair. “So. Tell me about your life.”

“You’ve been seeing it.”

“What’d you do . . . after?”

“Worked.”

She stared at me, expectant, continuing to rotate her glass.

“Dad’s health was a roller coaster until it wasn’t. I thought the ranch was doing fine despite a few dry years and shitty market prices, but Wren was worried. The girls came along and I got busier. Then Kirstin left and it got even harder. Wren and I sold the ranch.” My life since I was eighteen boiled down to a few dismal sentences.

“And you struck out on your own?”

“The stress was getting to Wren.”

“Rhys.” She studied the contents of her glass. “You haven’t said whether you wanted to sell or not.”

“It didn’t matter. We had to.”

“For Wren?”

“For the girls.” I kept my gaze steady, but the urge to fidget like a little boy was strong.

“Mm.”

“What’s that mean?”

She took a sip and licked a drop off her lips. The sight stabilized my emotions. Being turned on was easier to handle than her questions.

“What was your mom like?”

I jerked like she’d tossed the vodka OJ in my face. “Why? ”

“I’m wondering if she started the pattern of you ignoring what you want for the women in your life.”

“Jesus, June,” I said roughly and set my glass aside. There wasn’t enough alcohol in Bourbon Canyon for this conversation. June had asked more about my mom in the last month than she had the entire time we were together. “No, she’s not the start. She’s the reason I refuse to let down another woman in my life.”

“You were a kid, Rhys. You were, like, twelve when you moved to Bourbon Canyon.”

“That’s when she died.” My heart thumped once, initiating a steady, heavy beat.

She put her feet on the floor and leaned forward. “After you moved, right?”

I nodded. “I was actually living with Dad a few weeks before I started school, but Mom got hit by a car when she was on her way to theater rehearsal in New York. She died instantly.”

“Oh god, Rhys.” She put her fingers to her lips, sympathy spilling into her amber eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

I was too, since the whole event was my fault. “Dad had to travel there with me to settle everything. She had no family. No assets. No money. She’d never been able to make a steady living carting me around.”

June frowned. “What do you mean? Our professions are fickle. It’s hard to make a steady living no matter what.”

“You’re doing it.”

“Yeah, well, I had to work two or three jobs sometimes.”

“She couldn’t.” I let out a scornful laugh. “At least that’s what child services told her. ”

Her expression turned stunned. She blinked. “She tried to leave you home by yourself?”

I shrugged. That drink was looking good after all. I downed the rest. “She tried to support us. I made it hard.”

“Rhys—”

I cut a hand through the air. “I don’t want to talk about it. You weren’t there, June. Can you just trust me?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Sorry. It’s your business.”

I nodded, but the emptiness inside me yawned wider.

“How about we talk about your ex?”

I barked out a laugh, caught off guard. “Any other wounds you want to pry bandages off of?”

Her soft smile was understanding. “Bethany and Hannah are amazing. I think pretty highly of you, but I know they’re also part of their mother. What’s she like?”

Not like you.

Kirstin wasn’t exactly neutral territory, far from it, but June was asking in relation to the girls. Yet my first thought felt like a betrayal of the years I’d been married. Kirstin couldn’t carry a tune, her mahogany hair was short and curly, and she would let a room swallow her up instead of charming the occupants into submission with her siren song.

In the end though, she’d been exactly like June.

“She’s quiet. Not shy, just in her own head. I used to tease her that she saw the world through a lens and was always trying to figure out the right filter. She always was more comfortable behind a camera.”

June smiled. “I know the feeling. The world makes sense. Or rather, you can make it make sense through your chosen art.”

Like June did with music. “The girls are only a little interested in photography. It irritates the hell out of Kirstin when they express an interest in music of any sort.”

A line formed between her brows. “Because of me.”

“She heard all the stories. Of us.”

“That had to be hard. No wonder she wanted to ban everything to do with me.”

“It couldn’t be helped. Small town. Most people knew better, and your family was great, but you know how it is.” I shut all the doors to my past. They could stay closed forever. “Enough about my divorce. Tell me about your journey. Not the douchebags who wasted your time.” I refilled my glass. I’d like to chuck the bottle at the damn fiddle-playing singer.

She grabbed the vodka and added a splash to her glass.

I smirked. “Want some OJ with that?”

“Nope.” She took a drink and closed her eyes, savoring. Her throat worked over her swallow, and goddamn, my pulse ground to a halt. Illicit memories flung their own doors open with a bang.

If she opened those eyes and looked at me like she used to when she was sucking my dick, I’d have to run to my shower.

I put the glass to my lips. The smart thing to do would be to dump the alcohol down the drain. But I downed another big mouthful instead.

“I worked as a server and a nanny and performed at coffee shops whenever I could. Sometimes I’d play for tips. Hoping to catch the ear of someone important. Soon the smaller venues got larger and one time I was playing when Lucy was in the crowd. She was impressed that I wrote my own music.” She shifted her gaze toward me like she knew I’d scoff at what she’d say next. “She liked my vibe.”

“If that was a pickup line, it’d never work.”

“It does when you realize it’s Lucy Fillmore talking to you. She’d worked with Frankie Ritz.”

“Isn’t that the singer who got thrown in jail for taking a hit out on her husband? Calvin something?”

She laughed. “Yes, but she hadn’t done that yet. Frankie was on the verge of breaking.” Her smile froze. “I wonder if Lucy set her up with Calvin.” She tossed back the rest of her glass and poured herself another.

I topped mine off too. I wasn’t driven to drink, but this was nice. I’d had a nap, and there was no fucking way I’d be able to sleep after waking up to her. “So Lucy sought you out?”

“Yeah, I’d built a nice following. A small audience who liked my music and came to watch me play. Then Lucy signed me, and we peddled songs to record labels. Her name opened a lot of doors. I was making a small name for myself.” Her smile grew wide. “I actually played the Opry. It was so surreal.”

“I imagine it was.” I struggled to draw a breath. The Grand Ole Opry. She’d done it, just like she’d said. I cleared my throat past the lump that had formed.

“I was even getting pitched by brands.” She grinned. “I could’ve been an influencer.” She touched the back of her hand to her chin and lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “A cosmetic company wanted me to be the face of their eye cream.” She took a sip. “But they wanted me to quit with Copper Summit. So I said thanks but no, thanks. I know my following trends younger, but I wasn’t selling alcohol to the eye-cream crowd.”

“June Bee is ride or die for her family.”

“Yes.” She swirled her glass again and watched the contents. “It makes a difference when you’ve actually had family die in front of you. A lot of execs didn’t understand that. It cost me some progress.”

“You’d have ten houses by now instead?”

She rolled her eyes. “I have five places to live.”

“Is that all?”

“They’re not all houses. I don’t like to stay in hotels. I don’t like to feel like...”

“I know, June Bug. You never have to explain it to me.” She craved roots. She didn’t want to feel transient again—cramped and uncomfortable. Not knowing when the next shower would be. Others might think she was a diva for wanting a sprawling hotel suite, but it was the traumatized kid inside of her.

She nodded. “Tate always gives me a hard time about renting. He says it’s a waste of money.”

“Did you ever find out how your birth parents lost their home?” I’d thought of June’s birth parents a lot over the years. I’d only had two kids, and my parents had been a support system. Wren still was. June’s bio parents had been homeless with four little girls and no other family.

“No. They kept all that from us, and Mama never found out why.” She swallowed the rest of her drink but didn’t refill her glass. “I like this.”

I didn’t have to ask her what she meant. “I do too.”

“It’s nice to be us as we are now and not as we were then.”

“Closure. ”

She considered me. “Yes. Closure,” she said finally.

The atmosphere grew heavier. No. That would not do. “How’s the songwriting coming?”

The light in her eye returned. “Really good. I have the bones of five songs, but I really don’t think it’ll take much to finish them. I can hear them clearly.”

“What gave you your muse back?”

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. A shot of lust went straight for my dick. I had ideas for that mouth.

She feathered her hand over her hair and glanced around the kitchen. Two spots of pink dotted her cheeks. “Oh, you know, I think I was just tired of writing about heartbreak.”

I tapped my finger against my glass. She’d called me out. I would return the favor. “I know when you’re evading a question.”

“I needed time off.”

“You’ve had time off and you said you couldn’t write.”

“It’s just...” Her flush deepened. How far did that pink go down her chest? She pursed her lips, then huffed a breath out. “Those kisses, okay? You kissed me and boom—lyrics came into my head. A theme for a song. Even a melody.” She leaned forward and stabbed her fingertip into the table, glaring at me. “I’ve written so many songs because of two kisses from you.”

“I’m your muse?”

She slumped back and eyed the vodka bottle like she wanted to chug it. “I think so.”

Huh. I’d been her muse all those years ago. She’d channeled her emotions into her music. Lost love. “I’m glad I can help. ”

“Yeah, well, I need five more songs, so you’d better not fail me.”

“Are you saying you need me to kiss you again?”

Those plump pink lips of hers parted. “Y-you said you can’t risk getting involved with me again.”

“We’re not involved. I’m just a muse.”

Interest lit her eyes. Was I really suggesting we...

Could I touch June again and keep from believing it was the beginning of forever? Maybe. “Never mind. This is crazy. You’ve been drinking.”

“Rhys Conner Kinkade. Are you doubting that I can make valid decisions after a few drinks when I’ve been in the world of spirits most of my life? And when I’ve been living in a glorified honkey-tonk town for almost half my life?”

She hated being treated like she couldn’t care for herself. She’d been tasting alcohol since she was sixteen, and while I didn’t drink often, I wasn’t a lightweight when it came to the stuff.

I gave her one last chance to decide this idea was a mess waiting to happen. “The girls are upstairs.”

“It’s only a kiss. Right?” Her voice dropped into a purr that went straight to my dick.

Could I put my mouth on her and not fall faster and harder than I ever had?

It was a risk I was willing to take.

Jun e

I giggled as Rhys tumbled us backward onto his bed. His mouth was on mine and I was twined round him like a vine. His sweatpants did not hold back his erection like his jeans.

“Ssh,” he said against my cheek. “You can’t wake them up.”

“It’s like hiding from our parents again.”

He rocked into me. “Remember what we used to do when they were in the next room?”

We’d had to stay fully dressed and ready to fly apart from each other at the first turn of the doorknob. My sisters would sometimes act as lookout. Other times, they were quiet as church mice, ready for the show if Daddy caught me entwined with Rhys.

He kissed a path to my ear. “I used to do everything I could.”

I widened my legs and rocked against his hard cock. Those pants were so in the way and that was how it was going to stay. But god, it felt good.

“I want to touch you,” I whispered. The deal was only a kiss. But we hadn’t expressly said we’d just stick to kissing.

His groan resonated right through me. “If you touch me, I get to touch you.”

I turned my head to flick my tongue against his earlobe. “Deal.”

He claimed my mouth again. I was the first to make the move beyond the kiss. As much as I wanted my greedy fingers on that massive erection, I couldn’t resist his untucked shirt.

I brushed my hands underneath the material. He lifted himself enough that I could skate the backs of my fingers along his hard abs. Smooth skin and fine hair slid under my fingers. I flattened my hands on his firm pecs. I wish I could see him, but the lights were off and the door was locked.

Maybe later. Next week, when his kids went to Wren’s.

Tonight, I’d do everything I could.

I paused my roaming while he plundered my mouth. His heart rate was rapid under my palms, increasing when he flicked the hem of my shirt out of his way. His hot hand seared my skin. He did the same as me and flattened his hand over my heart.

My pulse wasn’t racing, but the beats were loud and clear. For a moment, we just kissed and connected. This was dangerous. He was my muse. Syncing our heartbeats was... something else.

Curling my fingers, I lightly scored him as I raked down to his waistband. I gasped when my fingertip touched the tip of his hot erection, a drop of precum smearing between our skin. The position we were in had dragged his sweats down and let that impressive bulge find freedom.

Again, he copied my movements. As I shoved the material of his pants down, he wedged his hand into my jeans. The fabric pulled tight, hugging his hand and fingers to me. I could feel every inch of his advance.

“I’ve dreamed of this for so fucking long,” he said against my lips.

“Me too.” So many nights had been spent remembering how good it used to be. I wrapped my hand around his cock. He was hard and real in my grip. So familiar, yet so different. This was the first time since that last night with him in the cabin that intimacy felt right .

His progress stalled as a deep groan came from him. “Fuck me, June. I’m afraid to move, or I’ll come.”

I nipped at his chin and gave him a pump. “Quiet, remember.”

He dropped his head to my ear. “Two can play that game, smart-ass.” He went straight to my clit and strummed it.

My noisy gasp, followed by a moan, echoed in the room. I tightened my hold on him, more out of reflex. “I don’t know if I can stay quiet.”

“Scream into me.” He kissed a path to my mouth. “Bite me if you have to. Because I’m going to get you off, June. I’m going to feel those pussy walls clamp around my finger and then I’m going to sleep tonight and imagine that happening to my dick.”

Yes . I stroked his length. He circled my clit and lifted his hips to give himself more room between us.

Our mouths were fused and our tongues clashed. I bucked against his hand and he thrust into mine. I could continue forever, but it’d been too long since it’d been this good.

He adjusted his hand, almost moving his hips too far away. I rose with him, keeping my strokes steady. When I swirled my thumb over the crown of his erection, he ripped his mouth from mine.

“ Fuck . That little hand of yours is wicked.” He pushed a finger inside me while making tight circles around my clit.

“Oh, god. Rhys.” My orgasm was building. Sensual pressure, pushing against all the right places, preparing to explode in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

He was taut above me, his hips bucking into my hand while I writhed under him .

“It’s been fucking forever, June.”

I was panting, so ready to explode. He pulsed in my hand and grunted in my ear. Then we both came, together, in each other’s hold. I hit my peak and buried my face in his chest. Ecstasy exploded inside my body until I felt like I was floating, suspended with him in a special place only the two of us together could reach.

Hot cum slicked my grip. His strength, his size, the way he groaned through his climax. Familiar, but new.

He slumped against me and I sagged into the mattress. His weight was a comfort. We caught our breath together.

After a minute of enjoying the comfort of being satiated, he turned his face into me, his breath wafting over my ear. “Does that make any tunes pop into your head?”

I giggled and patted his shoulder. My other hand was still in his pants, but I had let his erection go. He was still big, and if that part hadn’t changed, he’d be ready again if I touched him some more, but I held still. “That’s not how it works. But yes. I feel lighter. Freer. Creative in a different way.”

He slipped his hand out of my pants and I did the same.

“I’ll be right back with some towels.” He grabbed a new pair of sweats from his dresser on his way out.

Happy I didn’t have to wonder if he’d get grumpy again and kick me out of bed, I waited. The thought of going back to being tense and awkward sat on my chest like a stubborn mule.

A couple of minutes later, he was back. I accepted the warm, damp towel. While I wiped myself off, he flung back the covers.

I handed the towel to him and was about to rise .

“Stay.” He draped the rag over his hamper. “Just for a little while. It’s been fun.”

“I’ll say.”

Even in the shadows, I could see his eyes twinkle. “Not what I meant, but yeah. That was fun too.”

“When you said it’s been forever...” I shouldn’t have broached the subject. The air between us would get uncomfortable again. I’d leave on a bad note instead of a blissful glow.

“I don’t date much.” He flipped the covers. “Get in, June Bug.”

The intimacy of his invite rang a faint warning bell. But I gave in to the lure of not being alone for part of the night. I crawled in, fully dressed. He got in with me, keeping his shirt and sweats on. I rolled to my side so he could spoon me.

“You didn’t date because of the girls?” I asked.

“Something like that. Some complications I just don’t want to deal with. They have a good understanding of their mom. They’re accepting in a way I couldn’t’ve hoped for. But if I dated and it didn’t work out? Or worse, if I had to keep seeing the woman around? The girls too?”

“You mean like Annette?”

“You keep bringing her up.”

“You keep playing obtuse.”

He nuzzled his nose in my hair. “We help each other with the kids.”

“She’d help you just like I did.”

“Does she have songs to write?”

I laughed. “Now who’s the smart-ass?”

“I’m not interested in Annette,” he said softly.

Pleased, I relaxed. Being in his arms again was a forbidden treat I’d never thought I’d have again. His breathing evened out and his arm around me was loose. Was he asleep?

I should go.

Fatigue pulled at my eyelids. I’d had a mellow evening, a couple of drinks, and an orgasm, and I was in Rhys’s arms. I’d close my eyes, savor the moment, and then I’d leave.