Chapter 2
Fender – a bass player who doesn’t know what to do about a woman who doesn’t care he’s a rockstar
Fender
I”ll treasure and protect,
With you, I”ll resurrect.
Cash smiles as he finishes singing the lyrics to our new song Resurrect. Cash is the singer and songwriter for the band Cash the Sinners. Resurrect is his favorite number. Not surprising since the song is all about him convincing his high school sweetheart to give him another chance.
Dylan slaps him on the back. He plays lead guitar for the band. He’s also sporting a big smile. Probably because he’s in love with Virginia, a girl he went to high school with but had forgotten all about. Somehow he managed to convince her to give him a chance.
I frown. Love is fine for the two of them, but I want no part of it. I learned my lesson. Love isn’t for me.
A picture of my neighbor, Leia, pops into my mind. The woman is a firecracker wrapped up in a tiny package. She can’t be much taller than five feet. She doesn’t weigh much either. Although, I did enjoy the feel of her slight weight on top of me. Until she kneed me in the balls.
Her daughter, Isla, is a copycat of her mom. Blonde curly hair, blue eyes, and a mischievous smile.
Gibson snaps his fingers in front of me. “Earth to Fender. Earth to Fender.”
“Ah, leave the poor man alone,” Jett says. “He’s probably daydreaming about Leia.”
“She is one hot mamma.” I narrow my eyes at Gibson and he holds up his hands. “Don’t worry. I won’t steal your woman away.”
“Not my woman,” I grumble.
Jett and Gibson cackle in response. Why I agreed to live with these two yahoos is beyond me. Gibson is the rhythm guitarist for the band. He’s also a charmer who thinks getting a woman to drop her panties in two seconds is his greatest achievement.
Jett isn’t much better. He’s the drummer and a daredevil who doesn’t think twice about racing around a track in a motorbike at 200 miles per hour when he’s supposed to be doing a soundcheck.
“She’s pretty,” Cash chimes in because no one can keep their nose out of my business.
“Fender probably weighs twice what she does. Do you think he’d crush her when they’re banging?” Jett asks.
Gibson rolls his eyes. “How long has it been since you got laid? There are a multitude of ways to bang without crushing the woman. Reverse cowgirl is one of my favorites.”
If I had Leia in my bed, there’s no way we’d be in the reverse cowgirl position. I’d rather gaze into her cheeky blue eyes or watch her tits bounce up and down. Although, I bet staring at her ass as I thrust into her wouldn’t be a bad view either.
My pants tighten. I inhale a deep breath and tell my cock to calm down. He won’t be inside Leia anytime soon. Or ever.
I’m done with relationships and Leia isn’t a one-night stand type of woman. She’s the woman you introduce to your family. Too bad for her I have no family worth introducing a woman to.
Jett throws his sticks down and prowls toward Gibson. “I’ve been laid plenty. I’m probably winning.”
I scowl. Jett and Gibson need to stop their stupid competition about who can sleep with the most women. I may not want a relationship but I know better than to use women as pawns in a game. This competition is going to bite them both in the ass.
Dylan steps in between them. “No fighting in the recording studio.”
Jett smirks. “But we can fight somewhere else?”
“Come on.” Gibson motions to the door. “Let’s have a brawl in the middle of Main Street.”
“We’ll liven things up.”
Winter Falls doesn’t need livening up. It may be a small town of barely over one-thousand inhabitants but the place is anything but dull. There are pagan festivals at least once a month and visitors from throughout the state of Colorado pack the town during them.
If the festivals didn’t already liven the town up, the residents would. To say they’re kooky is a major understatement. There’s literally a man who walks his squirrels without pants on. Yes, squirrels.
I thought this place was going to be dull when we arrived to record our latest album here. Cash convinced us other bands had recorded at Bertie’s Recording Studio and we went along with him. Mostly because we all needed a break and a small town seemed a good place for one.
Little did we know he had found out the brothers he never knew about while growing up live here. He’s now part of a big family and is settled down in Winter Falls with the love of his life.
“We’re not done yet,” Stan, our producer, announces over the speaker.
Gibson bounces on his toes and begins shadow boxing. “But we’re having a rumble on Main Street.”
“Another night in jail won’t kill me,” Jett declares.
Dylan growls at the reminder of the first night Jett spent in jail here. It was because he scared Dylan’s woman, Virginia, to death when he broke into the library where she works.
“Guys,” Rob, the studio engineer, calls. “Can we try the song in a different key?”
“Why? It was perfect,” Gibson says.
“Mr. Humble has arrived at the party,” Jett mumbles but he sits back down behind his drumkit.
We play the song again. For as much bitching as Gibson and Jett do, they are professional when it comes to the music. If they weren’t, I’d probably have pushed them off a building by now.
“Whoo-hoo!” Jett twirls his sticks in the air. “We’re finally done with this album.”
“Not quite,” Dylan says.
“Close enough. I can’t wait for some time off.”
“Are you heading off somewhere?” Cash asks the question I’m thinking.
“There’s a surfing competition I want to enter.”
Gibson’s nose wrinkles. “I thought you quit surfing after the shark bite.”
Jett rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t the one who got bit by the shark.”
Gibson snorts. “Which was a surprise considering how much you screamed like a little girl.”
“I did not scream like a little girl.”
Their bickering could go on forever. I stand and put my bass away.
“Hungry,” I say and aim for the exit.
“Are we doing the brewery or the diner?” Dylan asks as he follows me.
“I vote the brewery. They have the best burgers,” Gibson says.
“You just want a beer,” Jett says.
I frown. Gibson has been drinking an awful lot lately. Being in a rock band doesn’t mean he needs to drink a six-pack every night.
“Let’s hit the diner.” Cash rubs his stomach. “I’m in the mood for meatloaf and potatoes.”
“I’m in.” Dylan agrees.
Cash and Dylan always agree. The two were best friends in high school and remain as close as ever. And now the women they’re dating are best friends.
I often disagree with them because I can and it irritates them. But in this case, I agree. The diner doesn’t have a liquor license.
“The diner it is,” I say as I exit the studio and turn toward Moon’s Diner.
“Race you there,” Jett says and sprints away. Gibson is hot on his heels.
“So, Leia,” Cash says and I notice he’s on one side of me while Dylan’s on the other.
I growl. I expect this shit from Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Not from them.
“She’s pretty,” Dylan adds.
“Single mom.”
I don’t need to say more. They know about my feelings for single moms. They know the entire story. They witnessed the fiasco while it played out.
“Not all single moms are the same as—”
My growl cuts him off. I’m not talking about her. I’m never talking about her.
“You”re going to have to get over her at some point.”
I glare at Dylan. He holds up his hands.
“Fine. Hold onto a grudge about a woman for the rest of your life. You’ll die old and miserable all by yourself.”
Good. Alone is how I want to be.
“Leia didn’t seem impressed with your rockstar status,” Cash says.
I should have known they wouldn’t let it go. I increase my pace. Cash and Dylan are tall but they’ve got nothing on my height of six-foot-six. They have to jog to keep up with me.
“You can’t get rid of us,” Dylan says.
Cash points to my growling stomach. “You need to eat and you haven’t had time to stock your house yet.”
My mistake. I’ll make certain the house is never devoid of food again. As soon as I figure out a way to stop Gibson and Jett from eating all my food.
“Good afternoon,” Petal, an elderly woman who lives in town, greets us as we come upon her.
I don’t bother to greet her back. I usually try to be polite to the women in this town but the candle store owner is on a mission where I’m concerned.
“Have you thought about my suggestion?” she asks.
“No.”
She pats my arm. The patting quickly becomes petting. I step away from her and she sighs.
“You have time. Sexy book club isn’t for a few weeks.” She winks at me. “You’d make a great model.” She waves as she walks away.
“Model?” Dylan asks.
“According to Indy, they want a man to strip for them at book club.” Cash’s grin is downright evil. “Fender must be the chosen one.”
“Not stripping,” I say and continue toward the diner.
“I bet you’d strip for Leia,” Cash hollers after me and I give him the finger.
I’m not stripping for Leia. No matter how sexy the little firecracker is. She’s off limits to a man like me.