14. Leo
“I’ll drive you until it doesn’t work anymore. I loved cooking for the band. I’ll wait while you go in.” I mocked myself out loud as I sat in the car, watching Mari’s retreating form.
And what a retreating form it was. All I had to do was ensure that I spent less time thinking about her and ways to touch her, yet the second my mouth opened, I was scheming the exact opposite. I cooked her a damn meal. What had I been thinking?
I knew.
If I had thought seeing her in my clothes was a magical sight, watching her inhale the food I cooked for her changed something in me on a cellular level. It certainly never excited me to see the goobers from The Burnouts shoveling down my food. I’d only known Mari for a short time and already I felt like my whole world was flipped upside down. I was meant to be home and relaxing until Cath and I finally had our first session.
And wasn’t I a chump? Sitting here as she walked down Main Street. This was what happened when you got involved in things. You then had to leave the house and interact with people.
Groaning, I rubbed my temples. How did people live like this?
Mari made her way to the Victorian mini mansion on the corner lot, across from where I’d parked. The sign outside said Monroe Sons. I squinted and leaned closer to get a better look as a large man came forward to greet her. I frowned as they shook hands. The man looked like he could play Superman; he was that good-looking. I tried to remember what Becky Lee had said about her sons during bunco. They were all married now, right?
I should probably go in there, just in case. He seemed professional enough, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I unbuckled and was about to open the door when my phone vibrated.
“Hey,” I answered Devlin’s call, keeping my eyes on Mari and the Monroe brother.
“Hey, man, sorry I missed you.”
“No worries. I’m calling for a favor. Since you owe me.”
“Is that right?” Devlin asked on the other side of the line in a cocky tone. “Does that mean you have decided to help Mari and Cath?”
“I’m working on it. Only, there’s difficulty securing a place for us to practice. Any chance you would be open to a few nights a week at your new and improved studio?” I asked.
Mari threw her head back and laughed. I squeezed the phone in my hand.
Devlin cleared his throat.
“Sorry. What did you say?” I asked.
“I was going to call this week anyway.” Devlin’s voice took a gruff edge.
“Yeah?” In the shop, a dark-haired woman appeared at Mr. Chiseled Features’s side. It was Molly Cooper—related to me only in name because of Belle Cooper’s previously mentioned now deceased husbands. The Monroe brother, who must have been Garret now that I thought about it, looked at Molly like she hung the moon, squeezing her close. Tension melted out, and I focused back on the conversation in my ear.
“I got a call from Vander,” Devlin said.
I froze at the mention of my former best friend. Devlin also knew Vander from our time at camp and they had remained friends over the years. Apparently, even now. A different sort of jealousy gripped my chest. “Oh?”
“The Burnouts are wrapping up their tour. They want to record their next album before Christmas and asked if they could come use my studio.”
I swallowed. “A new album,” I repeated numbly.
That part wasn’t a surprise. The Burnouts’ tour had been massively successful since I’d been booted. Because I’d been booted, depending on who you asked. But the shocking news in all this was that Vander was the one who reached out.
Vander back in Green Valley didn’t make sense. If I had been eager to leave this place, he’d been even more determined. He’d always been the ideas guy with the big dreams and life outside here. I wanted it too, of course, but mostly, I wanted to get away. Vander hated it here and swore he would never come back.
“Why Green Valley?” I asked, trying to hide any reaction.
But truly. What the hell was Vander playing at? Thousands of studios in the country. Some of the best in the world, just over in Nashville. Why had he chosen to come here? We hadn’t exchanged a word in six months after talking every day since we were kids.
To laugh in my face? To rub in how successful the group has been since I was kicked to the curb?
“He said he wanted to get back to his roots. Hoping the Smokies will inspire them,” Devlin explained.
I grunted. Likely excuse.
“I wanted to make sure it was cool with you before I agreed,” Devlin said.
Why had he cared what I thought? I wasn’t the one recording an album. It wasn’t like I could say no without looking like an absolute jerk. It wouldn’t matter. They could be up at Devlin’s massive cabin on the lake, and I would be safely not leaving Janice’s house. Even just driving Miss Mitchell had been enough for one day.
“It’s fine.” I absolutely would not be using the studio now. “But I guess that means we have to find a different place for Cath and me,” I mumbled.
I glanced up to see Mari hugging Molly goodbye with a smile on her face.
“Not necessarily,” Devlin said cautiously. “It’s not like they’ll be in it twenty-four seven. We could schedule it so there wouldn’t be an overlap. There’s just a chance you might bump into each other, that’s why I wanted to warn you. I’m happy to let y’all use the space, though.”
I grunted noncommittally. “Yeah. I’ll see what Mari says.”
Mari strolled happily back toward the car, her long blond hair sashaying with her hips. She was alit with victory, so I assumed the talk with Monroe Sons went well.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. What would it be like to be the person who kept her happy and fed? Who would be the lucky asshole who would eventually get to be that person who met all her needs? Not another disappointing man.
“I’m really happy for you and Mari,” Devlin said. My jaw was clamped tight. Otherwise, I would have worried I’d been thinking out loud.
I flinched. “What do you mean?”
“I heard about what happened with the marching band. I did try to warn you she had a way of getting what she wanted.”
“Yeah, weird how she seemed to think I was a spoiled punk who refused to help out,” I said, remembering that bone I had to pick with Devlin.
“I have a new baby. I’m not sleeping well. When I talked to her, I may have miscommunicated parts of our conversation.”
“How about that,” I said flatly. But couldn’t muster any sort of real anger. Not when Mari, with a coy grin, had lifted her hand to give me a thumbs-up. I held up a hand and gave one back, feeling considerably more dorky with the action.
“Sometimes we just need a little push in the right direction. Take it from somebody who let their past rule them for way too long,” Devlin said.
I grunted again like I was impersonating him. Who was letting their past rule them? Not I. I was retired. There was a difference. Mari turned toward the direction of a contemporary boutique that looked to sell a mishmash of expensive candles and lotions.
Seriously, what had happened to this town?
Just then, a motorcycle came roaring down Main Street. It was so loud several people glared. Not everything had changed. The Iron Wraiths still made a scene wherever they went. The biker slowed by Mari as she crossed. He checked her out, not even trying to be subtle as he whistled at her. My hackles rose, and I turned off the car, body tense.
Mari ignored him but switched to come back toward Janice’s car. Smart woman. I willed her on, Ignore him. Come back to me.
She held my eye contact even from twenty feet away. I poured my thoughts into that stare.
“Mari can be highly motivated. But she’s good people. I hope you guys will learn to work together,” Devlin said as I kept my focus straight ahead. “Don’t let her tough demeanor scare you off.”
“She’s not so scary,” I said as my words drifted.
Recognizing he wasn’t getting the attention he wanted, the biker mouthed what might have been very bad language and threw a cup over his shoulder. My heart sank.
The scene unfolded in front of me like a bad dream. In fact, I’d had a nightmare last night where I was chasing after Mari, but when I called her, she wouldn’t turn around. I’d been trying to warn her about something, but she was on a mission, wogging away from me. The same sense of impending doom from the dream suffused me now.
The biker, with the Iron Wraiths emblem embossed on his leather vest, missed whatever his goal had been. I optimistically assumed he had been trying for the trash can that Mari just happened to be passing as he threw his giant Styrofoam cup, only missing her by a hair. But Mari had not interpreted the event in the same way.
No. Stay focused on me, I willed.
She did not do that.
She stopped midstride and spun on her heel. She looked at the cup. Looked at the biker. Looked at the cup.
That familiar burning rage transformed her features.
“Shit. Devlin. I gotta go—” I was already launching myself out of the car.
Mari bent and picked up the trash with revenge in her eyes.