Chapter 23
23
Shit.
Who the hell do they think they are?
I go over to Nate’s door and open it. To loud music.
Travis and Vaughn are walking up the stairs. Travis is carrying his speaker, which is cranked up and playing—speak of the devil—the Down Home Boys. Vaughn’s shirt is open and untucked and he’s drinking out of a large flask with the word WHISKEY embossed in bold letters across it. Propped behind one of his ears is what looks like a very large joint. Damn it. Vaughn’s supposed to be strictly on the wagon, no exceptions.
But that lecture can wait. “What are you doing here?” I’m blocking the door so they can’t come in.
My brothers are both dressed in their usual denim and leather, with plenty of gold chains, tattoos and too-long hair thrown into the mix. They both look…well, like superstar musicians and two-thirds of the hottest country-rock band in the world right now.
“Roxanne Savannah,” drawls Vaughn, “you sly little minx. Making a beeline for the biggest dog in town as soon as our backs were turned.”
“Why are you here?” I’m not sure if I’m ready for real life to intrude on my newly-discovered slice of paradise, which still feels like a dream.
Having them show up out of the blue is like a splash of cold water—and not in a good way.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers, but I don’t need them checking up on me. And that’s exactly what they’re doing.
Travis kisses me on the cheek. “You wouldn’t believe the rumors that are flying around the countryside, darlin’. But now that we’ve been pointed in the direction of Nathan Waylon Boone’s private residence by his own mother—and here you happen to be—it appears the rumors might be true.”
When we were kids, my brothers always got a kick out of the fact that Nate’s middle name is Waylon. In their opinion, the coolest person in the world to be named after would have to be Waylon Jennings. He’s one of their idols and biggest inspirations. Which is inconsequential right now, but it reminds me of how far we all go back. And how crazy this might seem to them.
Still, it doesn’t mean they can control me. “Where I happen to be is none of your concern, Travis Tucker. I’m on vacation.”
“Sounds like a fun one,” Vaughn bumps his shoulder against mine playfully.
“Also none of your business. I can’t believe you guys drove all the way out here just to check up on me.”
“We were at Travis’s country house. It’s not all that far. The girls are busy with their sister and her baby visiting and they’re having some kind of ladies lunch. So we had nothing better to do.”
“I highly doubt that. Write another album, how about that, while meanwhile minding your own business.”
“Your business is our business, Rox, you know that. You going to let us in or what?” Vaughn’s impish smirk is one I’m very familiar with.
“Depends on what you’re going to do once you get in here.”
Nate appears at my side. I’m almost shocked when he slings a burly arm over my shoulder, protectively. And possessively. It’s an intimate move. And it confirms beyond a shadow of a doubt what my brothers are here to find out. Then again, I’m also wearing Nate’s shirt, which is huge on me, and no pants. “Hey, boys. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Hey, Nate. Yeah, fancy that.” Travis and Vaughn both grin at Nate. I think they’re friendly smiles, but there’s clearly a very protective curiosity behind them.
Kade was always the one I was most worried about, as far as reacting to this news, but both Travis and Vaughn are a lot more hot-headed than Kade. And Vaughn’s especially unpredictable.
“Can we help you boys with something?” The deep husk behind Nate’s question gives me light goosebumps as it stirs a memory of what it sounds like in the dark —possibly not an ideal time to be thinking about that, but I love the sound of his voice. And the low menace behind his words makes no mistake about it: my brothers can accept that this is happening or they can take it outside.
I always think of my brothers as big men, and they are, but Nate is even taller and more built. And it’s a new dynamic. He’s telling them how it is.
Instead of them telling me how it is.
Not that I’ve ever really felt controlled by my brothers, but it’s true that they dominate my life. And it’s freeing: I’m making my own rules now. And Nate’s here to make sure I can.
“Just checking in on our little sister to make sure she hasn’t fallen innocently under the spell of the Heartbreak King of Sugar Falls.” Travis’s smile is layered.
“Travis, for God’s sake. I’m twenty- three .” Not fifteen.
Nate gives Travis a level glare. “I thought that was your title, Travis.”
Vaughn glances at Travis. Then at Nate. “I thought it was my title.”
Nate shakes his head. “Whoever’s title it was, it was six or seven years ago now. I like to think we’ve all grown up since then. ”
“Just making sure your intentions are pure, Boone.”
Nate’s eyes barely narrow. He doesn’t owe them an explanation. But he gives them one anyway. “My intentions are to make all her dreams come true.” There’s so much sincerity in his answer, it catches both of my brothers off guard. “And there’s not a damn thing either one of you can do to stop me from doing it.”
Travis notices the way I’m holding Nate’s arm—and wearing his shirt. “He’s already made good on most of my dreams,” I tell them. “And it’s only been the weekend.”
Vaughn’s grin widens.
“Either way, I’m amazed that you two think you have any say in it whatsoever.”
“Chill, Rox.” Vaughn takes a swig from his flask. “It was a good excuse to come see the Boones again. Hell, colorful past or no colorful past, we all know Nate’s done well for himself and everyone else. It’s all just a lot to take in.”
Nate laughs. “Shit, boys, it might be time to start relying a little less on your sister and maybe look after yourselves for an entire weekend. And there’s nothing more colorful about my past than there is about yours, Vaughn. Now, are you two here to fight me or do you want to come in?”
“We wanted to make sure our sister was okay,” Travis says. “We wouldn’t be doing our duty as brothers if we didn’t.”
“Fair enough. But I can assure you, Roxie’s just fine.”
“More than fine,” I confirm, just to rile them—even though I have to admit, meddling busybodies or not, their genuine concern for me is sweet. We’ve all been looking out for each other for a long time, because no one else was going to, and it’s a habit that’s dug in.
Travis shakes Nate’s hand. “It’s good to see you, man. It’s been too long.”
“It has.”
Then Vaughn. “I guess it’s welcome to the family then, Nathan Waylon. Again.”
A soft little voice enters the conversation. Daisy’s tugging on Nate’s shirt. “Uncle Nate? Who are they ?”
Nate removes his arm from around me—slowly—so he can pick up Daisy. “Daisy, meet Vaughn and Travis Tucker. Miss Roxie’s brothers.”
My brothers aren’t shocked to see Daisy here. They heard about what happened from Kade, like I did. “You can call me Uncle Vaughn. Us and Nate are practically cousins.”
“We’re not cousins,” Nate and I say in unison.
“You have an earring,” Daisy says to Vaughn, in that blunt, observant way children have. He wears a little gold hoop in his left ear. With his wild black hair and blue eyes, it gives him an edge of a pirate-gypsy vibe.
“And you have chocolate on your face,” Vaughn says back. Vaughn has a natural way with kids—possibly because he acts like a child himself a lot of the time.
“That’s because I like chocolate,” she tells him.
“So do I,” he says, conspiratorially, like they’re sharing a secret .
Daisy eyes him up for a second. “We have some chocolate chips we’re putting in our Mickey Mouse pancakes. Do you want some?”
“That sounds fu—” Vaughn catches himself, his grin full of mischief, as always. “Fun. And fantastic.”
“You can’t bring that in here, Vaughn.” Nate’s eyeing the joint above Vaughn’s ear.
Vaughn takes it and holds it up. “This? It’s plain tobacco. Which I don’t smoke.” He takes a swig from the whiskey flask he’s holding, then holds it out to me to taste. “Water. I like to stay hydrated.”
“Why don’t you just get a water bottle like a normal person?”
“This is more fun. Helps with the FOMO and all that. And it’s working, Rox. I’m sober as a fu—”—another glance at Daisy— “as a fun-loving judge. I’m high on life. I’m all in with clean living.”
It’s a relief. “That’s good, Vaughn.”
Nate opens the door a little wider. “Well, come on in, then. You two hungry?”
“Starving, man.”
Nate takes Daisy into the kitchen and sets her on the counter. There’s the distinct smell of burning pancakes.
“Shit,” I hear Nate curse.
“Uncle Nate ,” a little voice scolds.
“Shoot,” he corrects himself, waving a dishtowel over the smoke and opening the window next to the stove. “I left this burner on. ”
“Are the Mickey Mouses burned?”
“It’s okay. I’ve got plenty more batter. I’ll make some more.”
Travis touches his shoulder to mine. “Nate Boone, huh?”
“It’s always been him.”
My brothers both stare at me, not expecting that answer.
“Turn the music down some,” I tell Travis and he does, but barely.
“So,” Travis drawls, “It seems love is in the air all over Tennessee. Kade met someone new the other night.”
“What? Who?”
“He’s got some new girl in his bed and they haven’t left his apartment all weekend.”
“He does?” That’s the best news.
Vaughn confirms. “I called him and he said the two of them ran into each other on Broadway in the rain. Her name is Stella.”
I grin at them. “ Yay .”
“He’s thoroughly getting the ex out of his system, by the sounds of it,” Vaughn laughs.
Daisy tugs at the leg of Vaughn’s jeans. “Uncle Vaughn?” She’s holding a small bag of chocolate chips. “Do you want some?”
“Of course I want some, darlin’.”
She pours some chocolate chips from the bag into his cupped hand and it overflows a little. He shoves the whole handful into his mouth .
Daisy giggles. When Vaughn holds out his hand for more, she shakes her head, grinning at him with her little gap-toothed smile. So Vaughn pretends to chase after her. Daisy squeals and runs to hug Nate’s leg.
“Careful there, Daze, I’m just serving these up.”
I reach to get some plates for Nate to serve the pancakes onto. Clearing a place on the counter to set them down, I notice all three of the men have stopped what they’re doing to stare at the open door.
Someone must have knocked, but with the loud music playing, I hadn’t heard it.
Daisy has opened the door for a woman, who’s standing there with a mildly shocked, displeased look on her face.
She’s dressed in a conservative outfit. A knee-length gray skirt and a blue blouse buttoned all the way up. Her hair is pulled back into a neat bun. She’s probably in her mid-thirties but it’s hard to tell since she’s dressed like a much older woman.
Nate looks briefly for a dishtowel but, unable to find one, wipes his hands on his jeans. “Travis, turn that music down, would you?” he says, walking over to the woman. He holds out his hand for her to shake. “Nate Boone. Can I help you?”
The woman looks at his hand, which is still wet and partly covered in flour. She doesn’t take it. “Ainsley Beal.”
I’m not sure who Ainsley Beal is but from the look on Nate’s face, something about this has caught him off guard .
“Uh,” Nate gestures toward the rest of us. “This is Roxie, Travis and Vaughn Tucker.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Vaughn says, almost stepping forward to offer a handshake but then deciding better of it. It’s pretty clear from Ainsley Beal’s expression she wouldn’t shake his hand either.
Ainsley stares at Vaughn, saying nothing. She takes in his open shirt and bare, tattooed chest. The whiskey flask he’s still holding. His mussed-up too-long hair. The fat joint behind his ear.
Then she takes a long look at Travis, equally unimpressed.
I have no doubt that both my brothers look like hell-raisers to someone like Ainsley Beal—whoever she is.
Ainsley’s glance falls on Daisy, who still has chocolate on her face—more now than before. Her hair is a tangled mess and probably hasn’t been brushed since before the birthday party. She’s still dressed in the same princess outfit she’s slept in for two days’ straight, which looks it. It’s crumpled and dirty.
The music is off now but the scene is chaotic. The air smells like smoke, there’s flour and burnt pancakes all over the counter and toys and chocolate chips are strewn all over the floor.
Ainsley turns to me. The shirt I’m wearing is as long as a mini-dress. But it’s not a mini-dress. It’s very clearly a shirt. And it’s fairly obvious it’s Nate’s shirt. I notice now the few buttons I’ve done up are unevenly buttoned. My hair looks like I spent a night either tossing or turning—or having very hot sex.
Ainsley seems almost speechless.
But then she clears her throat. “Um, Mr. Boone, I apologize for interrupting your… party . I called the school on my way over here and there’s no record of Daisy’s enrollment.”
Nate rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, we were planning to do that today.”
“School starts tomorrow , Mr. Boone.”
Nate seems flustered and Daisy picks up on it. She goes over to him and he lifts her into his arms. “We’re headed over there soon, Ms. Beal. After Daisy finishes breakfast and gets cleaned up.”
More scrutiny over the fact that Daisy’s obviously overdue for “cleaning up”.
“Yes. Well. There’s quite a bit involved in first grade enrollment, Mr. Boone. Most parents tend to organize the stationery lists and so on several weeks in advance.”
“I’ll make sure it happens today.”
“You’ll need to.”
Nate’s expression is layered. He’s pissed off. Uncomfortable with this visit, clearly. And his worried weight-of-the-world furrow is back. “Do you…want to look at the rest of the house?’
“No,” she answers abruptly. “I think I’ve seen enough.”
Ainsley turns to leave.
Nate follows her. “Ms. Beal, please. You caught us at an unexpected time?— ”
“That’s the point of these visits, Mr. Boone. To find out how the household is run on a day to day basis. Without staging.”
“ Staging? If you’d like to have a look at the rest of the house or to come back?—”
“That’s not necessary, Mr. Boone.” She’s already unlocking her old gray sedan. “I got what I came for. I’ll be in touch.”
Vaughn moves as though to go after her, recognizing that something has gone wrong here and he might have contributed to it. “Hey—” But Nate holds him back.
Ainsley slams her car door closed, gets it running after two tries and starts driving away.
Daisy looks at Nate, her small arms tight around his neck. “Who was that lady?”
Nate lets out a frustrated sigh. “That was the lady who tells the judge whether or not she thinks you should be living with me.”
“Uh oh,” she whispers.