Curvy Nanny for the Nerd

3. Ryan

Chapter 3

Ryan

“ H oly shit man, that was the greatest show on Earth!” My youngest brother, Roman, clapped me on the back as we rushed off stage after a third encore, and made our way down the well-lit tunnel until we reached the main door of the backstage area. “That was the shit, and you know it! Don’t even bother denying it.” Roman entered the room, not at all nonplussed by all the women, the strangers lounging among our stuff as if they belonged.

It was still unnerving to me, but I was a little older than Roman’s thirty-three years. He still found joy and escape in slipping it inside of a random chick anywhere there was a modicum of privacy. I didn’t judge him for how he chose to unwind, it just didn’t do it for me anymore.

Unfortunately.

While Roman got sucked into the clutches of two wannabe groupies, I sat back, feeling good as I watched the partiers wearing wide smiles as if they had any claim on the kickass performance we put on tonight. For my part, I felt bittersweet, the same way I felt when we finished recording an album, performed the last day of a tour, ended a relationship. It was all just another ending to me, good while it lasted, but there was no desire to go back once it was over.

Except that once.

Derek and Roman soaked up the attention, as they always did. Whether it was women or genuine fans, they ate up every moment of it. Not as if it were their due, but as if it could all go away at any minute. Derek had a rapt audience as he recounted the way he felt when all fifty thousand concert goers sang along with him to Always In My Heart , while Roman whispered sweet nothings to a redhead and accepted small promising kisses from a blond.

I sat back the way I always did, and observed every little detail. Not in a creepy way, at least not to me, but I was a people watcher. It helped me write songs and stay grounded.

And now, I was ready to get the hell off the road. To sleep in my own bed with the brand new memory foam mattress, every night. It was a luxury I’d learned years ago to never take for granted, the pleasure of lying down on the same pillow in the same bed night after night. There was a certain sense of comfort in that kind of sameness, and no place offered that level of comfort, of sameness, as Carson Creek. It was home, it was where I could unwind, enjoy and just soak up the beauty of the place, let it soothe my restless heart. Let it inspire me.

That was my goal for my stay at home, to write songs for the new album, to relax, and learn all that I could about the ins and outs of running a restaurant. It wasn’t exactly the rock star behavior people expected, but thankfully I was the boring brother. The quiet one. The old one. Old, my ass. Forty wasn’t old, not for me. I felt better today than when I was thirty, damn those bloggers.

“Hey man, watching everyone like a creeper instead of enjoying the last night of the tour?” Roman’s deep voice, filled with amusement, slowly pulled me from my thoughts, my plans for the future.

I shrugged off his gentle ribbing. “It’s what I do.”

“Luckily, you’re almost as hot as me, or else it would be damn creepy.” Roman laughed again and pulled a cold beer from a nearby cooler and shook his head as he twisted the top and took a long sip.

I let out a sharp bark of laughter at our familiar banter. “You wish you were as hot as me. Maybe after your balls drop, you’ll come close.” Roman flipped me off, as he always did, and then handed me a beer.

“What are your plans now that the tour is over?”

Good question. I hadn’t told either of my brothers about my new investment. “Carson Creek. Maybe a few changes to my house, writing for the next album, and keeping a close eye on my new investment.”

Roman’s blue eyes widened. “A new investment and you didn’t consult me? Or Derek?” He let out a low whistle. “I think I’m offended.”

“Don’t be. It’s a restaurant, not your thing.”

“Not my thing? This coming from the guy who lives on peanut butter and jelly rather than trying carpaccio or kale.” He shook his head, slapping his knee as he was overcome with laughter. “Not my jam, but if any one of us could make it work, it’s you.” I gave him a don’t bullshit a bullshitter look and Roman chuckled. “I mean it. You’re so serious and those lyrics that have sustained us all these years, they come from a deep thinker. Not shallow pricks like me and Derek.”

He wasn’t wrong, but I knew my baby brother better than I knew anyone else in the world. I’d taken care of him when our Mama died weeks after giving birth to him. Changed his dirty diapers, taught him how to walk and how to charm a woman. And yeah, he was definitely up to something.

“All right, drop the shit, Ro and tell me what you want.”

A loud guffaw of a laugh erupted from his rangy frame, tugging a reluctant smile across my own face. “Me? Your baby brother, and I can’t even compliment you at the end of the longest tour known to mankind without suspicion? Now I know I’m offended.”

I rolled my eyes because Roman wasn’t a cruel man, but he wasn’t a serious man either. “What do you want, Ro?”

He sighed and stared at the packed backstage area, his eyes landing on everyone but not really seeing anyone in particular. “I want to do a solo album.” He let the words hang in the air for a long time, like he was waiting for me to explode or talk him out of it. I kept silent. “I don’t want to leave the band, but I want to do more. Our next album isn’t due for a year, what the hell am I supposed to do with all that free time aside from get myself into trouble?” He laughed. “You think I’m an asshole?”

“Nah.” I shook my head and turned to look at my brother, really look at him. “I think you know that you don’t do well with a lot of downtime and if you want a career away from us, you should go for it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. As you love to remind me, you’re young with a lot of life ahead of you. You tell Derek your plans yet?”

His blue eyes, identical to mine and Derek’s, and our older sister Lacey, widened almost comically. “You kidding? I want to enjoy this last night of the tour, possibly my life. I’m telling you because,” he sighed again and turned to me.

“Don’t keep me in suspense, Roman.”

“It would mean a lot to me if you wrote some songs for me. For my voice.” He flashed a smug smile at my surprised expression. “See? I was being totally genuine with my compliments.”

I couldn’t deny that Roman’s words floored me. Not that I lacked confidence in my ability as a songwriter, just that, I guess I never let myself think too hard about what my brothers thought of my skills. “Me?”

“Hell yeah,” he nodded and took another swig from his beer. “Who else?”

“Literally anyone else. Nashville is filled with songwriters looking for their big break.”

“Yeah, but they don’t have the depth that you do, and they don’t know my voice better than the man who taught me to sing and play the drums.” He looked at me, hope and expectation darkening his blue eyes. “What do you think?”

I didn’t know what to think, but the truth was I could use all the distractions I could get over the next few months, and Roman was my baby brother, practically a son to me. “Ask me again in a week after I’ve had time to relax and unwind, you know, after the longest tour known to mankind.”

His face pulled into a wide, satisfied grin. “Thanks, Ry.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“No, but you didn’t say no, and we both know that means you’re halfway to yes.”

“We’ll see.” He was right, but he was too smug for his own good, and it was good for him to wait, to sweat it out before getting the answer he wanted to hear.

“All right, fine,” he conceded. “I’ll be knocking on your door in a week. One week, Ry.”

“Not a moment sooner,” I told him as he pushed off the seat beside me and sauntered back over the stacked redhead with the hungry green eyes and blonde with the pouty lips and barely there dress.

I stood soon after, grabbed a bottle whiskey from the table and left the backstage area and the concert venue, sparing one final, wistful glance at the perfect send-off. Without a word to my brothers, I made my way back to the hotel and slept peacefully, knowing it would be the last hotel bed I slept in for months.