12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Gunnar
I wake up, confused as to where I am.
Sitting up I rub my eyes and realize I’m on my own couch. I must have fallen asleep with Willow last night.
I stand up and the blanket slides down my legs to the floor. I bend over to pick it up and put it back on the couch. The purple fluffy thing, a reminder of who I’m supposed to be staying away from but don’t seem to be succeeding. The thought that she took the time to cover up a six foot 3 dude with a purple fuzzy blanket makes me smile, and crave her a little more.
I need a shower, and probably a massage after being cramped on the couch all night. I walk down the hall, rubbing the knots in my neck to the shower when I get distracted by Willow’s music room. I’ve never heard her play except when she sings at The Bar with the band.
After her confession last night, I’m determined to help her find her confidence in music again.
Her voice haunts my dreams at night, the soulful pain you can feel in your bones when she sings is something out of this world. Everyone deserves to hear her music.
I broke down when I went to Maine, and finally looked at her social media. The girl in those videos is a different singer than I know now. She used to be so charismatic, happy, but now, her music is sullen compared to that girl in those videos. The joy left her gradually.
I thumb over her guitar strings. It’s been too long since I last picked one up too. The memories hurt too much.
My buddy from the military taught me how to really play in boot camp and how to hone in my skill with my voice.
Hernandez was the class clown. Always getting us in trouble. But man did he know how to get girls. He told me that the key is being able to play the guitar, he later learned I could strum along to some basics, and sing. He insisted that I had a dynamic duo in getting the ladies. It was then he vowed to help me. He grew up in a very music oriented home and had the skills I wish I had in high school.
I haven’t picked up a guitar since the day he died overseas with Hunter and I. I’ll never forget his pregnant wife crying in my arms at his funeral. It was shortly after that I started drinking to forget that very moment.
I sit on Willow’s stool, and pick up the guitar gently from its stand. I begin slowly strumming the chords to Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. Hernandez would be proud I still remember and a smile sweeps across my lips as I sing the words.
When I finish, I place the guitar back on the stand.
“You don’t have to be finished with her. Keep playing,” Willow urges from behind me. “I had no idea you could play like that, or sing.”
Her voice is almost a whisper, like she’s afraid to break the moment we just unknowingly shared.
“Only if you sing with me.”
She balks at my request, almost refusing.
I take her hand in mine and pull her down next to me. She moves to the floor, sitting on her legs, kneeling, facing me in. She looks up at me with bright green eyes begging me to make this safe for her.
“Can I, do you mind, I mean -”
“What do you need, darling?” I ask.
Her cheeks blush pink at the reminder of what I said last night.
“Can I record it? I promise to not post it.”
I nod to her phone in response and set it up. Whatever she needs.
“You know Kenny Chesney and Grace Potter?” I ask, placing the guitar back in my lap.
“Of course, You and Tequila ?”
I nod again and start strumming.
As we both sing our parts the line “One is one too many, one more is never enough” hits me hard with my current situation .
I know if I let myself fully get a taste of what it would be like to be with Willow, I’d never want to give her up. I feel like I’m already craving her much more than I should.
Singing with her is like an out of body experience. I feel like I’m above, watching two people have this intangible connection that can never be quite connected fully.
She needs to heal from Nashville, and I won’t take advantage of her for so many other reasons. Even though my willpower is waning when it comes to her if last night is any indication.
We finish the song, and she rests her head against my knee. “Gunnar, that was -” She pauses trying to find the words, “indescribable. I’ve never had such an emotional reaction to singing with someone.” She holds up her arms, as if the goosebumps are proof she felt what I felt. She leans forward and stops the recording.
A lump forms in my throat. I understand exactly what she means. It feels like the most intimate moment I’ve ever shared with someone before, more than any physical act. I’ve never felt this kind of connection to any woman, it scares the shit out of me. Especially to feel it with Willow.
We sit like this on the floor for a few minutes, her head resting on my knee, me running my fingers through her silky, copper hair. Both of us feeling the need to come down from the emotional high of singing together in silence. It’s almost too much, much more than our physical connection .
“Will you post that?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“I’m not sure. It feels private, and I haven’t even watched it back yet.” She stands up and places her phone in her pocket. “How about some food?”
I agree, acknowledging she’s ready to end this moment, and uncomfortable with the feelings that were just brought up. I’m uncomfortable with them too, but only because I know I shouldn’t be feeling them.
She goes to the kitchen and pulls out everything to make pancakes. “How about some carbs and sugar to start the day?”
“I need the energy so load me up.”
“For what?” she asks. She whirls around quickly though. “I’m sorry, it’s not my business.”
I laugh, “I’m just meeting the guys for golf. Hopefully I don’t see any groups like last night.”
The mention of last night has her cheeks blushing again, and I’m tempted to jump across this island and take her in my arms to make her blush some more. The taste of her cherry lips still lingers on my tongue.
But the thought of Preston, Colton, and Porter is like ice water.
“So that must mean my sisters are free today. I guess I should take your advice and talk to them.” She shrugs, clearly unsure if she’s ready to make that choice.
“You should. I think you’ll feel better.” I admit even though I remember being in her position and how reluctant I was to open up.
“Singing with you this morning was unbelievable. I haven’t felt that connected to my music in a long time.” She flips the pancakes on the griddle.
“Your music has changed over the years.”
“Looking me up, are ya?” She winks over her shoulder.
“Had to see what all the hype was about in my bar. Can’t have you causing any riots on the patio.” I wink back.
“It’s sadder,” she admits softly.
“I think it’s just more soulful, your feelings are in it now, you aren’t trying to be who they want.” And that’s true. I feel like her music now is more who she wants to be, not who she’s expected to be as an artist.
“Well. According to social media, I’m taking the break I should be taking, a permanent one.”
“Don’t let the trolls of the internet deter you. I think if you were to post something recent they would go crazy.”
I know I did the first time I heard her sing when she tested out the karaoke system at Lacey’s engagement party.
“We’ll see. First step is to talk to my sisters.” She nods, as if this discussion is over and closed. So I take her lead and change the topic.
We eat in comfortable silence before I have to go shower to meet the guys .
“Think you can manage to stay out this time?” I joke.
She throws the dish towel at me, telling me to go fuck myself. I remind her that I do that just fine with or without her prying eyes then run before she can whip me with the towel I threw back at her.
For good measure, I lock the bathroom door. Despite how calm I acted in front of her, thoughts of her writhing underneath me have me ready to go even with ice cold water hitting my back.
We are sixteen holes in, no one knows the score, and we’re sweating our asses off.
“Damn, I can’t wait to get that ice cold beer waiting for me at The Bar.” Preston says.
“Who says it’s waiting there?” I ask.
“Me. I’m winning obviously.”
Colton elbows his ribs. “I think the par seven you had a few holes back says otherwise, brother.”
The two continue to give each other shit and Porter and I fall back behind them.
“Those two are like having kids.” He says, sounding exhausted with their antics.
“Tell me about it, they’re as bad as the frat kids that come home for summer and work at my bar.” We both laugh at Preston and Colton, now wrestling at hole seventeen .
I walk between the two of them and place my ball on the tee before swinging and getting the closest I’ve gotten to the hole all day.
“I will take both your money for those beers, thank you.” I put my club back in my bag and head over to the green. Porter’s laughter echoes behind me.
Once we finish we head into the clubhouse for lunch, and the beers Preston and Colton want. They’ve never pushed me on why I don’t drink, and I’ve never offered, but I order my soda and am grateful to not have to relive the memories after this morning.
“Hey asshole, what are you doing in this bar? Your bar not doing it for you? I have to agree, I won’t be back at that shithole again.” The jerk from last night, the one with their hands all over Willow, looms over me.
“Just move on, man. I’m just here to golf like you.” I try to dispel the conflict.
“Not so tough now, you don’t have your bodyguard. Must be real tough to need a woman to protect you.”
Fuck it. No one disrespects Mack.
I stand up, and the three guys stand with me. Luckily the asshole is alone, so he takes the cue and walks away laughing like he won. I should have had him trespassed from my bar.
“Who the fuck was that?” Porter raises an eyebrow at the jerk laughing to himself .
“Some ass I had to kick out last night. He had his hands all over Willow’s ass.” I narrow my eyes at the thought.
“Oh, jealous are we?” Colton eggs me on.
“No. Not jealous,” I lie. “Just respectful of my employees not being groped on the job.”
Colton stares a little too long, and I shift uncomfortably, like he sees what I’m dealing with in my head regarding Willow.
“What is the deal with her? I swear Adelaide is about to lose it with her not telling them what’s going on with her. Especially when it comes to Lorelei,” Porter says.
I immediately get defensive of Willow. “It’s her story and she’ll tell them when she’s ready.”
“You know, don’t you?” Preston looks at me, not accusatory, but he sees more than he lets on. The quiet observer of our group.
“Of course, I hired her, I needed to know what I was taking on for liability,” I answer nonchalantly.
“Bullshit. I think you’re closer than you lead on. Are you two like a thing?” Colton pegs my feelings for her.
“Of course not. She’s my employee.”
“And your roommate,” Preston adds.
“And the Baby Harper,” Porter chimes in.
I glare at them in exasperation. “Look, I know all of those things, can we just drop it.” I stab my food a little too hard.
“Yea, man. We’ll drop it.” Colton gives the other two a shut the fuck up look. They turn down to their plates like dad just admonished them for picking on their brother too much.
We finish lunch without any more talk of Willow and I. But Colton corners me in the parking lot after the other two left.
“Hey, what’s really going on with Willow?” He and I have gotten close since he moved to town a couple of years ago. I’m friends with Preston and Porter, but not as good as I am with Colton.
“Nothing, swear it,” I hold up my hands.
“I don’t care, man, just asking. I know she’s in a tough spot right now, and she has the reputation of being a spitfire. I just don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”
“Thanks, but we’re good. I promise. Boss-employee, and roommates is the only relationship we have. Promise.” I pretend to cross my heart.
He laughs and slaps me on the back. We make promises to do this again, but I know I’ll see everyone this weekend since their favorite cover band is coming into town.
Willow : What the hell did you tell the guys about last night?
Oh shit. I’m in trouble.