Chapter 13
THEA
I keep my promise to stay away from Owen for the rest of the night.
Instead of sliding into the seat next to him at the bar, I listen to Harrison tell the story—in great detail—of how he bribed the bar owner to let kids in.
I let Camila tell me all about the nursery they’re setting up for the baby and how she’s worried about sorting out proper staffing at the inn to cover her responsibilities.
Mira and I take a shot at Camila’s request since she can’t partake.
Another cousin, whose name I can’t remember now, corners me to talk about our mutual love of the Pistol Annies.
I don’t speak a word to Owen, and I’d be proud of myself for that if I didn’t spend the night knowing exactly where he was. If I didn’t get goosebumps each time I felt him watching me.
I wish I could wash my brain clean of the way he looked at me on stage. Laser focused, so much intent in that startling gaze. I bet that’s how he’d look at me from between my legs, every swipe of his tongue a study in how to make me scream his name.
Fuck.
It’s the cold shower I need when Gabriel’s band ends their set and he runs over, dropping to one knee before me. “Marry me.”
Addy and I laugh, and Camila gives his leg a little kick.
“Get up, you maniac,” she says, but Gabriel just looks at me hopefully.
When I shake my head, he pops up, unfazed by my rejection. “If you won’t marry me, at least say you’ll sing with us again.”
I slip my arm through Addy’s. “The Pappas Sisters were a one-time engagement.”
Gabriel clasps his hands together. “Oh come on, pleeeeease?”
I look over at Addy to find her eyes shining. This is what she’s always wanted, a giant family filled with love and enthusiasm.
“I wish we could,” she says, “but I’ll be so busy with wedding stuff.”
Gabriel lifts his hand. “You can’t, but we’re asking Thea.”
The muscles of Addy’s arm go rigid under my hand, and for the first time since this little golden retriever came back into my life, I don’t find that eager energy cute. “What the fuck, Gabriel?”
“What?” he asks, looking around the group. “What’d I do wrong?”
Camila’s rubbing a hand down her face while Addy looks anywhere but me and Gabriel.
I hate seeing Addy like this, the way she makes herself smaller so she doesn’t cause any problems. I wish the family saw the way she was at Sliding Rock, her delighted laugh drawing stares and smiles from everyone around her. She should be admired.
Ire drips from my tone. “Walk through everything you said. If you don’t see where you went wrong by the end, you’re just a dick.”
Gabriel’s eyes go a bit hazy as he walks through the conversation in his head, then a silent oh shapes his lips. He takes both of Addy’s hands between his.
“That wasn’t how I meant it. Your voice is beautiful.
Better than Thea’s, even.” Camila coughs, and when Gabriel glances over at her, she shakes her head.
“Or, not better than Thea’s”—another cough—“or as good as Thea’s because we’re not comparing?
” He looks at his big sister again, who nods.
“I just know you won’t want to perform at your own wedding, right? ”
Addy’s smile is more genuine than she usually gives new people. “I get it.”
“We’re good?” he asks, all puppy-dog eyes and pouty lips.
“We’re good,” she answers.
He throws his arm around her shoulders, releasing a whooshing sound. “Good! I can’t have my future sister-in-law hating me! Now, future wife, is that a yes or no?”
Addy steps out from under Gabriel’s arm. “You can. If you want to. You had so much fun up there.”
I nudge her. “Nah, I’m here for you.”
“So? That doesn’t mean you can’t perform with us. We’re the wedding band. It’ll help with your sister’s wedding stuff!”
His eagerness is sweet, but it’s not going to happen. “Sorry, I’m booked.”
He pouts, kicking his feet as he walks away from me.
It’s silly, but it feels good to be wanted.
Most of the cousins’ attention is driven by my past—or perceived past—with Owen, but every one of them seems genuinely interested in learning more.
For someone who has always either flown under the radar or been considered a problem child, it’s a strange but thrilling change.
It isn’t until we’re all stumbling out of the bar that I realize none of them yelled at me for snapping. Camila backed me up. Gabriel apologized. It lights something up in me, a warm ember of contentment.
But that warmth is nothing compared to the fire under my skin when we head back to the bus, Owen leaning against the side of the door while everyone files in. When it’s my turn, Owen takes my hand, helping me step up.
I look over my shoulder at him, but his expression is composed, like touching me doesn’t turn him into a human flame like it does me.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
His smile is cordial, all the fire from earlier wiped away. Maybe I imagined it. A hallucination fueled by my unfulfilled sex drive and Owen’s tempting face. But then I glance back—one last look before I turn down the aisle because I can’t seem to help myself—just in time to see Owen’s hand flex.
And I spend the thirty-minute drive back up the mountain thinking about nothing but that hand.
An hour later, I’ve changed out of my tight jeans into my comfortable sleep shorts and hoodie. I almost crawl into bed and pray for a dreamless sleep, but I promised myself I’d keep an eye on job listings while I was here. The catering jobs work for now, but I don’t want to do that forever.
The service is so bad in my room I can’t get the employment website to load. Instead of taking that as a sign that I should go to bed and deal with it tomorrow, I go out into the hallway, sitting with my back against the door and holding my phone up until the website gets enough juice to load.
I scroll. And scroll. And scroll. There are a few server jobs, nothing as nice as Cibare—which means smaller tips—but beggars and all that. I shoot off those applications, fighting to hold on to a scrap of optimism after a month of silence on the job front.
Even though my ass is now going numb from the hard hallway carpet, it was a great night.
It’s been years since Addy and I sang together, and being on stage felt like magic.
I close my eyes, letting my head drop back against the door while my mind drifts to that feeling, the song burrowing under my skin and the timing of my vocals hitting just right.
“Hey.”
The voice breaks me out of my daydream, and I jump like a cat who’s just seen aluminum foil.
“Sorry,” Owen says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I scramble to my feet. “No, I was just thinking. I didn’t hear you coming down the hallway.”
“What are you doing in the hallway?” he asks, one eyebrow quirking up in perfect time with the side of his mouth.
“The service in the room is absolute trash,” I say, then suck in a sharp breath when I realize I just insulted his family’s hotel. “I mean, the hotel is so nice and beautiful, and I love it here. The service just hasn’t been very reliable.”
He chuckles, holding out his hand for my phone, typing something in before handing it back. “You realize this is the twenty-first century, right? We have this thing called Wi-Fi.”
I glance around the cozy—but old-fashioned—inn. “As much as I love this place, it isn’t what I’d call high-tech.”
Owen’s lips twitch. “Yeah, Uncle Doug’s pretty resistant to change. But cell service is a problem all over the mountains, so Wi-Fi was one change he couldn’t argue his way out of.”
I slip my phone into the pocket of my hoodie. “Makes sense. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He smiles again, looking down the hallway like he’s about to go, but a part of me isn’t ready for him to leave yet.
When he takes a step away, I blurt out, “What are you doing walking the hallways so late?”
He startles a little—which, fair, I practically screamed it—but then shrugs. “Mira was too drunk to get herself to bed. She kept making jokes about how Camila’s eating for two and she’s drinking for two.”
“Do you take care of everyone?”
He shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “She needed help.”
“What about Camila?”
Owen laughs, loud and unencumbered, and it’s such a beautiful sound, I’m temporarily stunned.
“She wouldn’t let Camila touch her. Said she was too drunk and would knock her down and hurt the baby.
Then she waxed poetic for ten minutes about how Camila is the love of her life.
It was the most I’ve ever heard her talk. Pretty romantic, actually.”
“I’d never have taken her for the type,” I say. “She’s a bit terrifying.”
“Nah.” He shrugs one shoulder. “Tough on the outside, but worth the work of breaking through.”
I’m in awe of this man and the way he’s constantly giving to those around him.
“You’re a really great guy,” I say, more to remind myself of the type of person he is than anything else. He’s not for me.
His mouth quirks up and then back down, like he’s embarrassed by the compliment. “I walked a few rooms past my own. It’s not like I did anything revolutionary.”
He can dismiss it all he wants, but I’ve seen enough people to know he’s special. Most people don’t stick around when it’s easy, but here he is sticking around when it’s hard.
Owen leans against the doorframe while I take a position on the opposite side. “Did you have fun tonight?” he asks.
I bite my lip against a smile. “Yeah, surprisingly I did. I’ve never performed on stage.”
“Thea, you were…” He lets out a long breath. “Incredible.”
My cheeks heat, and I dip my head to hide the reaction. A lot of people tonight told me I was great, so why does this mean more?
When he realizes I’m not going to respond, he moves on. “Were my cousins okay?”
I huff out a laugh. “Well, Gabriel proposed.”
Owen groans and drops his head into his hands. “That boy’s a menace.”
I laugh again, pulling his hands away from his face. “Stop, he’s fine. Everyone was great.”
“They love you.”