6. Griffin
Chapter 6
Griffin
Brothers Bonding
S pring was in full effect in the orchard. I hadn’t been back to the taproom since the day Lennon had come back, but the Mannings kept me too busy to think about her too much.
Mostly.
Enough that I could forget she was back in town.
Especially since she seemed less than enthused to have me in her space. I had a feeling I was being a damn princess about it, but if she didn’t want me in her space, then I would oblige.
We were installing an HVAC system in the Starling building—which was my place. And since the temperatures had soared from the thirties to sixties and it wasn’t even mid March, I had a feeling I’d need it.
Kain was up on a makeshift scaffolding set-up.
The old pressing room was one big loft space, and my ingenious brother had repurposed the old machine using parts to create bracings for the raised living area over the kitchen.
Part of the brick wall had been damaged over the years and instead of trying to match bricks to redo the wall, we’d put in a cathedral-style window Kain had rescued from an old building in Virginia.
He had a damn warehouse of odds and ends he’d collected over the years. And the massive arched window had made the space. Once I moved on, it would be an amazing rental unit for the orchard.
Instead of charging me rent, my payment for staying at the Starling was helping out with the renovations and adding my own details.
Like the kitchen.
I worked with the industrial vibe of the HVAC over brick—adding glazed white cabinets to lean into the modern over the old. The countertops were black granite with oil rubbed bronze fixtures.
And right now, my brother was hiding the air conditioning component over the steel and dark wood bookcase we’d bolted into the brick the day before. We’d stolen some of the trailing vines from outside to hide the cracks in the brick we’d mortared over.
One of the baby gala apple trees that had advanced from last year’s seedlings was potted in front of the massive window, soaking in the mid-morning sun. All of the rental houses would have some sort of trees inside to show the stages of growth on the orchard.
The aesthetics of Brothers Three were nearly equal to the teaching moments they added both at the Lodge and in the taproom. The artist who had helped them create the logo had also updated the signage through all the storefronts.
I glanced around the room. Slowly, I’d added pieces to the space on my own. Being on the road—or submarine—for most of my adult life had left me with my own storage unit of random items.
Like the cigar chair in deep tobacco brown that was tucked next to the bookcase with the weird branch lamp I’d bought in Maine when Baron and I had gotten lost exploring. The trio of soft lampshades that we’d randomly arranged had actually ended up making a perfect reading corner.
And the record player I’d had made for me in jet black and tortoiseshell was ridiculous but ended up fitting in a perfect nook. The bookcase held a mixture of books and records from my collection.
“You just going to stand there or help me?”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Sorry. Was just thinking.”
“I know, I saw the smoke.”
“Har.” I crossed the room and skidded around the low-slung couch and jogged up the three stairs to where he stood by the window. I hopped up on the windowseat we’d built earlier that morning to grab the massive silver air duct piece he’d cut off.
I could take apart a guitar and clean it and replace every piece, but retrofitting an air conditioner unit was way above my paygrade. But I could hold shit and solder if needed.
Moving slowly, I set the extra piece with the parts littering the floor. “What else can I do?”
“Almost done, just need to make sure there’s no leaks.” He glanced down at me with a grin, his scarred eyebrow arching wickedly. “Wouldn’t want to poison you.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Kain barked out a laugh then shook his long hair behind his shoulder. “Glad we did this now before it is a bazillion degrees. It was bitch cold, so I bet we’re going to get roasted.”
“Thinking the same, son.”
Kain dropped his tools in the bucket beside his foot, then hopped down beside me. “The place is coming together. Sure you’re not moving in permanently?”
I slipped my fingers under my baseball cap and pushed at the overlong strands. “I didn’t plan to, but it’s quiet here. I like it.”
“These buildings weren’t an option when I first came to town. You’re lucky I’m building my girl a house or I’d boot you out.”
“It’s a good space. I would probably fight you for it.”
Kain stepped forward, his work boots butting up to the toes of mine. “Is that right?”
I lifted my chin. “Afraid so.”
Kain put his big hand on the side of my face and gave me a friendly-ish tap. “I wouldn’t want to break that nose of yours again.”
I snorted. “You’re all heart.”
“I try.” He put his hands on his hips and looked around. “There’s not much left to do. What are you going to do with that upper deck?” He gestured upward with his chin.
“Think I’m going to put my music stuff up there.”
Kain’s eyebrows rose. “I haven’t seen you touch a guitar here.”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “No. I haven’t wanted to play, but I’ve been itchy. I think working on the stage upgrade is making me restless. I’m going to check out a local guy first weekend in April if you want in. The brothers like to work with local talent.”
Kain crossed his arms over his massive chest. “I have an appointment in San Fran, unfortunately.”
I nodded. “Sure, just a thought.”
He dropped his arms. “I’d go if I wasn’t busy.”
I hated that the disappointment still hit me like a punch. I went over to the fridge and grabbed a can of water for each of us to shake it off. Returning, I handed him one. “There will be other shows.”
“Good. Give me a heads-up, and I’ll clear my schedule.”
I swallowed against the simple offer.
It was rare to get one from him, but I didn’t want to make it weird. “You got it. There’s one up north in April, but I need to do a bit more research before I make the decision. It’s a girl group— The Madisons. They have a bit of social media play, but I need to make sure they’re not just a one song kind of deal.”
“Lots of those these days.”
“Too many. They’re more worried about going viral than actually honing their talent.” I tossed my hat on the end of the long dining table. “Justin sends me links all fucking night.”
He laughed. “Justin doesn’t settle down—ever.”
“That’s the damn truth. But it’s nice to see someone excited.” I dropped into one of the mismatched chairs. “Baron was so snide about newer talent.”
Kain tapped along the back of a chair, then finally pulled it out and flipped it around to sit in it backwards. “Was that your bassist?”
“You know it was. I bet you looked it all up after I told you the other day.”
He sipped from his can. “Maybe.”
“Baron, Irene, and Marc—three of my best friends. Or so I thought.”
“The breakup was more than musical differences, huh? Not much on the internet about it. Speculation and Reddit-conspiracy theories galore, but no interviews.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Trident—our label—didn’t want to put a breakup sign on their cash cow. No one really buys albums anymore, but they love a show. Between that and the merch, we made a stable income. Not flashy anymore, but we were solid.” I leaned back in my chair and kicked out my leg. “Marc kept chasing the viral moments. He always had his damn phone out to record us.”
“And you didn’t punch him? Or hide the camera?”
“Luckily, he didn’t care much about getting me in frame. Irene was plenty interested in being outrageous enough for all of us.”
A memory of her climbing in Baron’s lap to make out while Marc filmed dashed through my brain. Both of them always tried to poke at the other. By the end, I was pretty sure the three of them were climbing into each other’s beds on the regular.
Until Irene had gone too far.
The half empty can crackled under my fingers.
Kain glanced down at my hand.
I eased up, then lifted it to finish it off. “June will be two years since we broke up. Trident is trying to put out some compilation album of old B-sides. Squeeze us for every drop of blood.” I stood and pitched the can in the recycling bin.
“Sounds shitty.”
“You’d be correct. But we were young and dumb when we signed our contracts. Trident has access to all our old recordings. They can do what they want.”
“I imagine you have money to get a good lawyer.”
“Theirs are better. We tried to get out of the contract. Ironclad. Why we ended up doing a Vegas residency. Between that and interpersonal crap, we were a tinderbox.” I curled my fingers around the back of my chair until my palm throbbed. “But that’s not my life anymore. I’m tired of cutting off my music because of their bullshit. Now I can just play for myself.”
“Don’t give Justin an opening or you’ll be on that stage, son.” Kain stood. He crushed his can and tossed it into the recycler from where he was. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and smiled at it. “ Kaimoni is looking for a lunch date since it is slow at the Lodge.”
“Go on. I’ll clean up. Where do you want me to put the rest of the leftover stuff?”
“You can bring it over to the taproom. I have to patch some things in the kitchen.” At my silence, he arched a brow. “Unless that’s a problem?”
“No. It’ll fit in my truck. I’ll drop it by this afternoon.”
“You sure?”
I eased my grip on the chair. “Definitely.” I followed him out to the front of the Starling. The large carved door was another addition from Kain’s warehouse of goodies.
Kain stepped out on the cement stairs that went to the gravel walkway. “We gotta fix these ugly stairs next.” He turned around to stare at the boxy brick building. “Maybe we knock out some space for tall skinny windows too. Then we can make a porch or pergola.”
I stood beside him. “Porch, I think. Simple. Room for a swing, maybe.”
Thinking about how much Lennon enjoyed the swing, I turned around to look out on the gala apple orchard that was starting to bud with leaves. It was a good view.
Not that I should be thinking about her. I’d enjoy it too, dammit.
Kain did the same and put his hands on his hips. “Yeah. I’ll work up some drawings. See which works best.”
I nodded. “I appreciate the help. Couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
He grunted. “See ya around.”
Kain crossed the gravel drive to his beast of a truck and climbed in without a backward glance.
Maybe I was delusional, but it seemed like a good fucking day.
I went back inside and cleaned up. I broke down the scaffolding, as well. It was a simple construction, and my brother might need it for the kitchen. By the time I had it all loaded into my own truck, I was gritty and sweaty.
I glanced at my phone. It was Thursday—generally known as Lennon’s day off. I could probably drop off the scaffolding and get out without running into her.
I scraped my hand over my beard. It was getting as shaggy as Kain’s. Maybe I should take a shower, just in case she was there.
Hell, I wasn’t going to overthink it. And it wasn’t worth trying to impress her. She didn’t give a crap.
“Just go and get it over with.”
I slammed the door behind me, climbed into my truck, and took off toward the taproom.