Bourbon Harmony (Bourbon Canyon #5)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Rhys

The girls were preparing for their guitar concert at Wren’s place.

I sat on a chair in the living room and scrolled through the threads about me and June. Only a couple of days had passed since I’d learned of the online chatter, but the hubbub had been deflected by the announcement of June’s album release.

Between yesterday and today, she’d started working with another manager and had announced July31 as the release date. Had June worked on finding a new manager all week?

Our secret was mostly safe. My kids were forgotten. Only people who’d been out to the cabin would know where she was from her photos.

I should’ve been bothered. I should’ve pulled all the way back. Hadn’t I cornered June about the risk of dragging the kids and me into the spotlight? But when reality had hit and threatened to ruin what time I had with June, I hadn’t fucking cared. Everyone else could eat shit. I had two weeks while the girls were with Wren, and if June wanted me, I was hers.

Then after... I’d have to wean myself off her again. I’d have to watch her leave. And I’d be thrilled for her. This time, I knew what to expect.

Movement outside caught my eye. June parked next to my pickup. She had her hair piled on top of her head. The image of pulling her hair band out and dragging my fingers through those silky locks flashed through my head. Later .

We hadn’t officially discussed any plans. Were we on the same page? As soon as the girls finished their performance, Wren would feed us sloppy joes and then I’d leave her with the girls for a couple of weeks to kick off their summer. I’d go home, and June would hopefully follow.

“Junie’s here!” Hannah sprinted through the living room to the front door. She whipped it open before June reached the steps. “Hi! Did you see the picture of you and Dad?”

“Hannah,” I cautioned. We’d talked about piling on June as soon as she walked in.

But had June seen the picture? We’d looked intimate, like a real couple. Whoever the photographer was, they had captured us when June had turned into me and our heads were tipped close as we talked.

I had only stared at the image for an hour. A day.

“I did.” June put her hands on her hips. “I cannot believe he wasn’t smiling.”

Hannah laughed at June’s teasing tone. I shot June a promising look. I wasn’t a smiley guy. There was a lot more I wanted to do with my mouth around her.

She winked and the sauciness shot straight to my dick.

Bethany tugged on her hand. “We have the stage set up. First, I’m going to do ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ and Hannah’s going to do ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat.’ Then we both want to play guitar while you sing.”

June’s brows lifted. “You learned a new song?”

Both girls enthusiastically nodded.

June lifted her gaze to mine. “How?”

“We found a video of a guy teaching ‘London Bridge Is Falling Down.’” And they had asked me to make sure they practiced every night.

June’s lips parted, then she shook her head. “A two-chord song. Good choice. I bet you’re going to nail it.”

“Are you going to sing?” Bethany asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Grandma!” Bethany called.

Wren breezed in from the kitchen. “Sorry! Now I’m ready.” She went to June and gave her a quick hug and kiss. “Nice to see you again, Junie.”

“Thanks for having me.”

Wren beamed. She was in her element with the girls and with June. She sat on the rocking chair, leaving the other end of the couch open. June perched on the far corner. I refrained from scooting closer to her. The girls somehow believed that June had needed to do nothing more than crash at our place last Sunday night. I wouldn’t give them a reason to suspect otherwise.

Bethany picked through her song. Wren took pictures. Pride could make my chest explode. The girls loved their music, and I always made sure they could do what they loved.

June whooped and clapped when Bethany was done. “That was amazing!”

Bethany stepped to the side. Hannah worked her way through her song, her tongue shoving into the corner of one cheek. Wren snapped a few photos with her phone. She’d send me the copies and the video, otherwise I’d take my own.

Then it was time for the group performance.

June knelt between both of them. The sight of her with the girls, her face radiating happiness while my kids couldn’t look more delighted, hit in the dead center of my chest. This was what I had wanted.

Temporary . I’d keep the word on repeat. I didn’t even know if June would want to do more. I’d survived the week thinking I’d get to touch her again, hear her needy little moans, but I didn’t know. If I was a smart man, I’d make the decision to leave her alone, to take the full two weeks off and detox from June Kerrigan, but I’d left my intelligence on the table when I’d kissed her that night.

When the guitars started, June sang, her voice soft. She matched her notes with how they played, sometimes slow and halting. My entire focus was on them. A whole band could set up in the house, and I’d notice nothing else.

June sang the last word, then grabbed a girl in each arm for a giant bear hug. “I’m so proud of you two! Ohmigosh. You’re rock stars already.”

The vise around my chest cinched several notches tighter. She was so damn good with them. Encouraging and present.

If only she’d stay .

But this was my dream, not hers. And I made sure the women I loved could live out their dreams.

June

I was finishing with the dishes at Wren’s house. The dishwasher was going and I was washing what didn’t fit. Rhys had already directed the girls to wipe the table and sweep.

Wren hung her damp dish towel up. “I can’t believe you’re back in my house, doing the dishes after dinner.” She continued adjusting the towel on the hook. “I, um, have something. I’ve been going through everything. Rhys?”

He spun around from where he was watching the girls play another round of “London Bridge Is Falling Down.” They played a lot smoother when no eyes were on them.

“Yeah?” He stuffed his hands in his pants, standing tall with those broad shoulders wide.

He’d trimmed his beard since last week. For us? For tonight? Would there even be a tonight?

Had he changed his mind?

I crossed my arms. I’d been impossibly horny for the entire week and my nipples were pebbling just looking at him.

Wren lifted a box from the coat closet by the door to the garage and carried it to the dining room table. “I was going through some things and I found this. It’s... yours. ”

His expression shuttered and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Wren clasped her hands together. “I know Kirstin didn’t want to have it in the house but now that you’re in your own place...”

Understanding dawned. The memorabilia that included me.

“I thought the girls would get a kick out of it.” Wren waved her hands and shrugged. “Since you two aren’t a secret anymore.”

A jolt of adrenaline went through me. How did she know? Had she seen the image online and believed what was said? Was it the overnight? Rhys shot me a quelling stare, and I calmed my racing heart.

Oh. She meant the kids knew about me and Rhys in high school.

“Sure,” he said evenly. “I can bring it home.”

“I have a few more things in the office. Articles and such.” She rushed from the room. I stayed by the sink. He remained in place. Then he dragged his gaze down my body. I had on a long pleated skirt with a peasant blouse. The days were warm, but the nights could be chilly. I’d been having hot flashes all week when I remembered Rhys’s finger working inside me. The chill wouldn’t be an issue.

When he brushed his intense stare up my body, a needy wave of desire rippled over my skin.

“Here we go.” Wren entered the room. I dropped my eyes to the floor, my cheeks burning like I’d been caught scaling his body.

She set the papers in the box. The girls rushed in from the living room and pushed around Rhys like they sensed formerly forbidden loot .

“What’s this?” Bethany pulled out a photo of me and Rhys at our senior prom.

“That’s how you did your hair, Dad?” Bethany snickered.

“It was thicker then,” he grumbled.

“Helmet hair was the style,” I added.

“I did not follow trends,” he protested.

I pinched my fingers together. “Maybe a little.”

He pointed at the photo. “If I wore my hair like that, it’s because you wanted it that way.”

Laughing, I drifted closer to the box.

“Look at his face!” Hannah exclaimed. A clean-shaven Rhys scowled at the camera. One would think we’d had an awful night or argued right before the pictures, but that was his normal expression. Serious. He was only slightly softer now, but he hadn’t been when I’d first arrived.

For the next hour, we pored over articles Wren had saved for him from the county paper. A few were from the Bozeman Daily Chronicle , and she’d printed some Associated Press articles. I checked the years. The clippings stopped after the funeral. When he’d met Kirstin.

The sloppy joes congealed in my belly. This box was a time capsule of us. There was a beginning and there was an end. Not much different than now. There was an end coming. Then I would return to Nashville and Rhys would meet someone else and this box would go back in storage.