Chapter 25
Outside the tent,a man dressed as a barkeep sold tokens. After buying a few, they left the bright sunlight for the shaded interior. The place smelled of hops and the sweet, almost fruity, scent of yeast.
Immediately, Booker scanned the crowd for the wedding party. The hockey team would spend the day at the raffle, shaking hands and taking selfies, but they’d work in shifts. Which meant he’d probably see some of his old friends.
That familiar buzz of anxiety hit his chest, but he pushed it aside. He had to stop letting it get to him. It wasn’t like they cared or even noticed. He was just yet another person they’d gone to high school with.
The noise level was loud as brewers talked animatedly about their particular blends, and people sat around the tables enjoying pints and bar snacks.
“There they are.” Hellcat spotted their friends and waved.
It was hard to believe no one noticed her. But he supposed, in her baseball cap, jean shorts, and Taylor Swift T-shirt, she looked unremarkable.
To everyone except him. Because no one else’s smile had the power to jumpstart his heart. No one else’s touch electrified him.
But then, she’d never been Lorelei Calloway to him. She was his hellcat.
He reached for her hand and clasped it.
Startled, she pulled her gaze away from their friends. It traveled from his eyes down to their joined hands and back up again. She broke into a smile that set off tiny explosions in his chest. “You just claimed me.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
She laughed, but she got up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m proud to be your girl.”
He grabbed the back of her neck, holding her in place. “Watch it.”
“Watch what?”
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll throw you over my shoulder and fuck you senseless in the car.”
A shudder went through her. “We’d have to remove the car seat first.”
He released her. “Way to kill the mood, Mom.”
“Sorry, Dad.”
The word had the pull of a magnet. Their gazes locked. Their bodies shifted to fully face each other. He could read it in her eyes, her worries.
Are you a dad?
Will you run?
Can I trust you with my daughter’s heart?
“Yes.” He blurted it out, though she hadn’t spoken. He just needed her to know he meant it.
But more proof of their connection—she let out a breath and gave him a faint smile as if she did understand.
“Part of me never left that cabin.” He intertwined their fingers.
“What do you mean?”
“From the moment I walked out the door, I’ve been on the move. I quit my job and signed the partnership with the boutique agency. I’ve been flying around the country trying to sign athletes to fill my roster and doing my share to ensure our agency succeeds. And yes, I want it for myself, but also, George believes in me in a way I’ve never entirely understood. And I’m not going to let my partners down.”
“What does this have to do with the cabin?”
“Somewhere inside me, I’m still there, living with you.”
“A parallel life.” She smiled, and he knew she was remembering her question all those years ago about what their alter egos were doing.
“Something like that. All I know is when I close my eyes in the shower or when I go to sleep at night, I see you dancing like you did that first morning when I got out of bed and found you in the living room. I can be in the middle of a meeting, and I remember you trying to figure out how to use the cheese grater.”
She lowered her chin. “I still can’t believe that.”
“I can tell you the color of your nail polish—pink—that’s how vivid the memories are. I remember the exact color of your hair when you sat near the fire eating your scrambled eggs. Everywhere I go, I find myself comparing perfume or candles or diffusers to my memory of your scent. I haven’t let you go. So, it might seem I’m moving fast, but I’m not. I bonded to you in a way I don’t understand, and that hasn’t changed. I still feel this.” He brought their clasped hands over his heart.
“Hey, guys.” Noa sashayed over, carrying two wooden racks. “You get one, and you get one. Now, go choose your flights, and then come over and join us.” As she walked away, she pointed to a brewer. “That one’s my favorite.”
He wasn’t there for the beer anyway, so they decided to go with the bride’s suggestion. They exchanged their tokens for six beakers of beer from Sawtooth Brewers, and then headed to the table.
They met the others at a long picnic-style table. Everyone was talking and laughing, and all he wanted was to be alone with Hellcat. There was no one he liked more than her. No one he’d rather spend time with.
A quick scan showed Declan with a toddler on his lap, seated next to his pregnant wife. Every now and then, the couple would look at each other, sharing one of those wordless conversations filled with understanding. What struck him was the way the coach blocked out the noise and distractions to lower his ear to his daughter’s mouth to really listen and talk to her, engage with her.
It drove home what both Ginty and Hellcat said. That Declan wasn’t the kind of man who’d blow off a good friend after an injury.
But also… I want to be that kind of father.
And he couldn’t do that while he lived two thousand miles away.
Declan coached an NHL team, so he traveled a good portion of the year, too, and he made it work. But his home base was here in Calamity.
Mine’s in New York.
What can I do?
The answer hit him. He set his flight down next to Hellcat. “Be right back.”
“Wait.” She touched his arm. “Where are you going?”
“I have to talk to George.”
Ginty laughed. “Those two are joined at the hip.”
Hellcat got that crease between her eyes and threw him a puzzled look. But he needed to pitch his idea, so he ducked out of the tent to find a quieter space behind it. He thumbed the call button.
“Hey, what’s up?” His colleague sounded rushed and harried.
Warmth spread through him at the thought that his partner would always take his call, but he met resistance when he considered thinking of his partner as a friend. Because at the back of his mind, fear lingered. It was a ruthless, competitive business and one day, George might fuck him over.
But that wouldn’t happen. He knew George. They’d worked and lived together.
George is way more than a colleague, and I’m an asshole for thinking anything else. “I figured it out.”
“I’m listening.”
“Partners need to be in the office for the first seven years.”
“Okay?” George sounded wary.
“But we never talked about associates.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Come on. Associates get bonuses. You’re a partner. Partners split the commissions. You’re not working this hard to take a massive cut.”
“I will if it means I can be a father. I bring enough value that no one’s kicking me out of the firm. And it’s to everyone’s advantage to keep me in any capacity, so it’s the best of both worlds. I keep my career and live near Lorelei and my daughter.”
The line went quiet. A worker came out the back flap of a tent, loaded a few boxes onto a dolly, and then wheeled it back in. Across the fairgrounds, the Ferris wheel revolved, and the sound of chatter, laughter, and joyful screams filled the air.
“You there?” Had the call dropped?
“Yeah, I just can’t believe this. I don’t even know what to say. Dude, this is more than finding out you’re a father. You love this woman.”
“I don’t know about that.” He’d never been in love before, so he had nothing to compare these feelings to. His pulse pounded in his throat, and he paced away from the tent. “I have strong feelings for her. I want—I need to…” The boom of van doors closing had him jumping out of his skin. He walked farther away. “All I know is I can’t risk losing her.” But there was nowhere to go. Past the brewer’s tent was nothing but scrub grass. All the action was behind him. “I’ve never stopped thinking about her. Not once. There’s no one like her.”
“Well, yeah, it’s Lorelei Calloway. I could’ve told you that.”
Booker grinned. “You did. Many times.”
“But you’re willing to take a massive cut in salary for her?”
“What else can I do? She’s not going to date someone who lives two thousand miles away. She’s going to find someone here.” The truth squeezed his heart. “And that man will be Stevie’s dad. I’ll just be a father.”
No.
The word roared through him.
Hell, no
“Booker—”
“If I go back to the city, I’ll be a face on the screen of her phone. If I’m lucky, she’ll want to spend a week with me in the summer. And even then, I won’t have time for her. So, you guys either let me be an associate and work in Calamity, or I’ll quit.” Because he wasn’t losing his family.
Driven by his clarity of purpose, he stalked back to the tent.
“You’re not quitting.” George sighed. “Look, don’t lead with this cockamamie plan. Start with changing the terms of the contract. If you hit a brick wall, then…No. Booker, you’re not an associate. Jesus, man. You’ve got me completely turned upside down. Hang on. Let me look out the window because I’m sure it’s a dystopian world out there.”
“What are you talking about?”
“How long have I known you? Fifteen years? You’ve never dated anyone seriously. You never put a single relationship over your work, including your own mother.”
He lowered his head in shame. “Well, when you say it like that, I’m an asshole for still not forgiving her.” His mom wasn’t a pathological liar. She wasn’t selfish. His parents made a choice in a difficult situation, and maybe it was time to stop judging them for it.
“I mean, it was a zinger, but yeah. She’s a grandmother, so it’s probably time to make peace with that one.”
He thought about Ginty’s reaction that morning to finding out about Stevie, and he realized, in protecting himself, he’d hurt the people who cared about him the most. “You’re a good friend, George. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really don’t.”
“Wait, what’s that sound?”
Booker tuned into his surroundings. “I’m at the fairgrounds. For the Wild West Days Festival.”
“No, it’s not that. Is there a heart beating in that tin can?”
“Shut the fuck up.” But Booker laughed.
“This is good. I’m happy for you. And I can’t wait to meet the woman who turned you from a reptile to a human.”
“You just want her autograph.”
“Well, yeah, I do. If I bring my concert T-shirt out there, do you think she’ll sign it?”
“Fuck off. I’ll see you on the call.” He disconnected.
“That was George?” Hellcat asked.
He spun around to find her behind him. “Yeah.”
She didn’t look him in the eyes. “Uh, Stevie’s here. My parents just brought her, so…”
“Yeah, Okay.” But before she could duck back inside, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “Hey, are you all right?”
“Yeah, sure.” But she seemed distant.
“I’m sorry I ran out of the tent like that.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“I came up with an idea I think will work.”
“So, you called George?” she asked.
“Yep.” He smiled. He’d never imagined putting anything above his career, but this woman—she was worth everything.
“I need to get back,” she said. “It’s pretty loud in there. It’s a little too much for Stevie.”
Something was bothering her, but she was heading back into the tent, so he’d have to talk to her when they were alone.
The moment he went inside, he saw what she meant. Fans gathered around their table to talk to the players and get autographs. It was chaos.
He headed for Stevie, who sat at the end of the table. There weren’t any free chairs, so her grandparents stood behind her. Jaime and Declan stood there holding their kids. They laughed and chatted easily, and fuck, if it didn’t hurt.
Bypassing them, he headed over to his daughter and crouched. “Hey, how’s it going?”
She released a dramatic sigh. “I bored, Mister.”
He glanced up at Hellcat. “Remember that stuffed animal you wanted?”
Finally, she cracked a smile. “You better win us the biggest.”
* * *
This was the first time her home was alive with activity, and Lorelei loved it.
After the festival, she’d helped the guests get situated in their rooms. Figuring everyone would’ve stuffed their faces with junk food, the chef had prepared a light buffet for everyone.
For the evening activity, they chose to do movie night. They indulged in snacks and drinks and tubs of buttered popcorn while watching The Hangover.
The night turned out to be so much fun. It was such a different vibe than her music industry events, where everyone was either trying to hang out with people who could advance their careers or become best friends with a celebrity.
With Noa and Ginty’s crowd, there was no agenda other than celebrating with the bride and groom. It was all about sarcasm, teasing, and hilarity as everyone got to know each other.
Except for Slick, of course. He played host. She knew how hard it was for him to be surrounded by the former friends who’d done him dirty.
Had they, though? Because while he was busy tending to everyone’s needs, she was paying attention to the guys. Declan, the team’s coach, was the quiet one. He watched Slick with intense scrutiny as if trying to figure him out. Cole, the retired hockey player who adopted two little girls and now had two more, was the life of the party. He had stories to tell about his movie star dad and the chaos of a family with four daughters, but he noticed Slick a lot. There was pain in his eyes, and she knew without a doubt he missed his friend.
And then, there was Jaime. The confident, rugged goalie kept trying to talk to Slick and was devastated when he couldn’t hold his attention.
She didn’t know the truth of what went down all those years ago, but she was positive wires had gotten crossed. These men missed him. They just needed to sit down and find out what had happened.
From the way he deftly handled spills and refilled glasses, no one would know Slick’s inner turmoil. With his charisma and witty one-liners, he was a man in charge.
God, he took her breath away. Where everyone else hung out in jeans or sweats, he’d come straight from his virtual meeting with his partners in a dress shirt and slacks, wearing that big, shiny watch on his wrist.
After the movie, they all headed into the game room for pool, darts, and karaoke. There, it was harder for him to avoid his friends without it being glaringly obvious, so he chatted. He was good. Polished. He knew how to work a room.
Could they see the tightness around his eyes? The way he jammed his hands into his pockets? The way his laughter was forced?
Or are those things only I can see?
“You’re giving stalker vibes.” Noa came up to the bar and hitched her bottom onto a stool. “I’ll take a Ramos Gin Fizz, please.”
“A what?” Lorelei had never been much of a drinker, so she didn’t know cocktails.
“It’s gin, heavy cream…an egg white. Orange flower water. You know.”
Lorelei laughed. “Why are you asking me? Ask the bartender.”
“I’m afraid he’s going to kidnap me and lock me in his room at the biker club and have his way with me.” Her friend grinned. “And I’m nearly a married woman.”
“You’ve been reading too many romance novels.” Well, to be fair, the chef and the bartender were big, muscular, tattooed men. They did look like they’d do just that. “They’re great guys. They’ve been so nice to me.”
“Yeah, about that,” Noa said. “How, exactly, do you know them? I get that they have a bar and grill up the road, but how often do you go there?”
It felt like the right time to confide in her. “I go a couple times a week.”
“To a biker bar? You don’t even drink.”
“I know. But they have live music. And sometimes between sets, I get up there and workshop songs.” She blurted it all out.
Noa slapped her hand on the table. “You’re writing? Here I am thinking you’ve gone all Pioneer Woman, making your own bread and planting corn and knitting hand warmers, and you’re actually writing new material?”
“Yeah, but see, I don’t want to think about it like ‘new material.’ I don’t want to think about its ‘marketability.’ I just want the freedom to write songs with no objective.”
“Heard. Girl, I hope you know I’d never pressure you to do anything.” Noa reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I just want you to be happy.” She tipped her head toward Booker. “And obviously, he’s doing a good job of it. When do I get the whole story?”
“There’s not much to tell. I told you everything about the cabin and the way he left.”
“I cannot believe he’s Cabin Man. What a small world.” Her features tightened in concern. “It’s just…you guys are moving so fast. I know how much you want a dad for Stevie, but I don’t want you rushing into anything simply to try and make a family.”
“I get that, believe me.” But she remembered what he said.
It might seem I’m moving fast, but I’m not. I bonded to you in a way I don’t understand.
And he had. For her, he’d dropped the barriers. He was opening himself up, being real, honest.
“But that’s not the part that scares me. My biggest worry is that he lives in the city and never stops working.”
Noa nodded, leaning closer. “You know what me and Ginty went through. With our crazy schedules, we didn’t think we stood a chance. When would we even see each other? But we had a decision to make. We knew this kind of love only came around once. Soon enough, he’ll retire, and I’ll slow down, and then what will the rest of our lives look like if we don’t have each other?”
“That’s a really good point.” Although, with Slick’s job, he’d never slow down.
“It’s only a decision you and Booker can make, but the way that man looks at you…damn.”
Her senses sharpened, and she turned to her friend. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, honey, you delight him. He’s always watching you with this longing in his eyes, and he smiles at everything you do or say. I mean, you could fart, and he’d find it adorable.”
Lorelei grinned. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But yeah, it’s good between us. Really good.”
“Let me ask you something. Is the distance really the problem? Or is it something else?”
She let out a bitter laugh. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m over what Landon and Cissy did to me. Thanks to them, I can’t help but look for red flags. Every time I get all up in my feelings, this alarm goes off in my body. Mayday, Mayday. Was that a red flag he just threw down?”
“Has he given you a reason not to trust him?” Noa asked.
“Just one. Maybe.”
Noa made a gimme motion.
“Remember what he said earlier, that he puts everyone in categories? Ginty’s a client. George is a colleague.”
“And you’re a hot piece of ass.”
“I know, right?” Lorelei tossed a balled-up cocktail napkin at her. “Can you be serious for five minutes?”
“Uh, I was very serious. You’re hot.”
“Yeah, no. At best, I’m girl-next-door cute.”
Noa reared back, then shook her head. “You do not let the media define you. You define yourself. Now, get back to the red flag.”
“This afternoon, at the fair, he left the tent to talk to George, and he said, ‘You’re a good friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I really don’t.’”
“That’s it? That’s what he said that made the lights flash and sirens go off?”
“I know. It sounds ridiculous. But he doesn’t call anyone his friend. And his tone was all soft and…I don’t know. All I can say is I know how he talks to people, and I’ve never heard that.”
“Are you saying he’s into his partner? That he has feelings for him?”
“No, no, nothing like that. It didn’t sound romantic. Just…I had one impression of him, and then, hearing him say that felt like a total reversal.”
“I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying you need him to be the version of him you’re comfortable with? Any deviation, and he can’t be trusted?”
“Well, when you put it that way…” Lorelei laughed. “I guess I’m looking for red flags.”
“Sounds like it. Looking for them seems like a recipe for failure. Maybe, instead, you can trust your gut. What does it say about him?”
Oh, she appreciated that perspective. “My gut says he’s changing because of me. And that he can call George a friend now because he…” She wasn’t sure of the right way to say it. He likes me…? He feels great affection for me? It was way too soon for love, right? But when she spotted him across the room, she found him watching her. And there was no denying it. “He’s crazy about me.”
“He is. Did Landon ever look at you like that?”
“Landon didn’t even look at pizza like that.” And he didn’t look at Cissy that way, either. He was flat emotionally. Booker roiled with emotion, and she was sure he wouldn’t be able to knock down his walls unless he had big feelings for her.
That’s what my gut tells me.
And if he could do that, then she could be brave enough to overcome her trust issues.
Because he was trustworthy. His heightened sense of honor and integrity was proof enough.
“Well, I think you know what I’m going to tell you,” Noa said.
“Don’t condemn him for the actions of an ex?”
“Well, that, for sure. But I was going to say, talk to him. That’s a rule me and Ginty have. We don’t confide in our friends, and we don’t make up stories in our heads. We talk to each other. You want to know what’s going on with George? Ask him.”
How could she argue with that?