Things That Shine Page 9

  “I would be more than happy to give you a ride back into town,” Sage offered. “Or maybe Megan will be right back...?”

  Emily crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes dancing over the empty space of the driveway as if the vehicle would magically reappear any second. She sighed. “I don’t want to put you out.”

  Sage fought to hold the smile in. Put him out? It was exactly what he’d wanted.

  But, she still wore that look. That Someone has screwed with me and I’m afraid you probably will, too look that frustrated him. Probably because he couldn’t do anything about it except show her he wasn’t that guy.

  Sage tugged his keys out of his pocket and gave a low wave to the onlookers calling out their good nights and “come back again, y’alls.” He walked Emily to the passenger side of his Dodge and pulled the door open, examining the seat and inner door. It was clean, objectively speaking, but a thin layer of sawdust coated the seat, dash, and door. It was the curse of the carpenter. He reached behind the bench for his stash of extra towels and rags, selecting an overly bleached bandanna.

  Emily stood silently as she watched him run the soft cloth over her seat and door. He returned it to its location and tagged a larger towel, which he used to spread carefully over her seat. Then he held the door open and stood back, offering a hand to help her up.

  She paused, staring at his hand on the top of the door and the one reaching toward her. “What’s the towel for?”

  “My job usually means everything I own is covered in sawdust. I didn’t think you’d want to get it all over your nice dress,” he explained with a shrug, wondering if maybe he was overthinking it.

  Emily took his words and analyzed them internally, like she did with everything he said, before taking his hand and climbing up into the cab. She let go as soon as it was physically possible to do so without falling back out of the truck. He closed the door and took a deep breath.

  Pretty girl in his truck. He could totally handle this. It shouldn’t matter it had been almost three years since he’d had a girl in his truck. It was just a ride, and she was just the most skittish and confoundingly beautiful, mysterious girl he had ever met. He’d foolishly thought all he would need to do was spend some more time with her and he’d have some answers to his questions. Nope. He only had more questions. And damn if he wasn’t even more interested in her than ever before.

  He turned the creaky old truck around and carefully maneuvered down the drive.

  “Where to?” he asked, his voice sounding louder than it ever had in his truck before.

  “Toward The Brew,” she answered solidly.

  It didn’t escape him the way she refused to look his way, keeping herself separate even as they shared the ride.

  “I would offer to let you pick the music, but my radio actually died today,” he said with a grimace. “I’m sure I can fix it; I just didn’t have time.”

  She nodded silently, her eyes fixed out the window.

  “How long have you been friends with Megan?” he asked, trying to fill up the silence with something easy.

  “Uh, long enough that I shouldn’t be surprised by her ditching me,” came the quick reply that wasn’t exactly an answer. “We’re roommates.”

  He almost said, I know, but was just happy she was willing to share anything.

  “So, you go on tour with the band and stuff?” she asked.

  Yes, something he could talk about. He nodded. “Yep. I really lucked out by getting in when they went dry. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have stuck around.” He tugged the bill of his hat a little lower.

  “Dry? What do you mean?”

  “Well,” he started to explain, knowing how it sounded and hoping he told it right. “They did the rock star thing. All the clichés ever. The women, the drugs, the booze, the wild parties—every single rock-and-roll story you have ever heard, they did it. But Mike overdosed somewhere in Europe while they were on tour—Germany, I think. I guess it was really bad; he almost died.

  “Luke doesn’t have any family; the band was it for him. So it shook him up pretty bad. It tore them all up, to be honest. The media doesn’t know half of what they’ve fought to get back, as a band and as a family. I was brought in on their first tour, where drugs and alcohol were banned on the buses. That’s what I mean when I say dry. No contraband.”

  He chuckled as he remembered telling his parents he was taking the semester off to become a roadie. “I was nervous, honestly. I was afraid it was a publicity stunt and I was going to regret it. I was a music major. I had always planned on becoming a music teacher. I wasn’t interested in the rock star lifestyle. But Luke had won me over. Not just with taking a chance on my guitar, but he talked to me. About music theory and writing. He didn’t make me feel like being such a nerd was the worst thing. If you ever get a chance to talk to Luke Casey, do it. That guy can make every conversation he has feel like it’s the most important conversation he’s going to have that day. He’s the real deal.

  “So, I joined the tour and I haven’t looked back. I was allowed to have a front-row seat to their rebuilding years. It wasn’t at all like what the movies want you to think. I mean, maybe it can be. Maybe that’s what it used to be like; I’ve heard some of the stories. But it’s mostly a lot of hard work and a lot of driving.” He laughed lightly. “It’s just a lot of people working together and hanging out.”

  He was talking too much; he could feel it. But now that he had started, he couldn’t stop. Sweat beaded along his hat band on the side and he felt it trickle down his neck. He used a hand to wipe it away and rub at the tension. Not that it helped.

  “It’s really unlike anything else. Being surrounded by all the music and getting to travel...” He shook his head. “It’s something else.”

  “Sounds like it,” she remarked.

  He glanced to his right to see her studying him; he gripped the steering wheel tighter with both hands. “Sorry, I tend to ramble when I’m geekin’ out.”

  His eyes flicked over again in time to see her hide another smile. He took another deep breath and tried to stop acting like a fifteen-year-old on his first date. After all, this wasn’t a date. Not even close. If this was a date, he would have bought her dinner and he’d be holding her hand.

  “This is your work truck?” she asked, looking around at the interior of the cab.

  “Yeah,” he said, heat touching the back of his neck. “It’s...” He cleared his throat. “It’s my everything truck.” He loved his truck. He knew it was beat up and old and probably not the best idea for the environment. But he’d bought it with his first dozen or so paychecks. He planned on keeping it until he couldn’t. Every time he drove it, it reminded him where exactly he fit in the world.

  “You don’t have a different one for when you’re not working?” She sounded both skeptical and surprised.

  “No... Why? Embarrassed to have me drop you off in this beast?” He shot her a grin.

  “No, I was...never mind.” She sat up a little and gave some more detailed directions as they got further into town.

  “You can stop here.” She pointed to the side of the road, unhooking her seat belt.

  Sage frowned at the lack of parking. “There’s nowhere to get out.”

  “I can just get out here.” She waved her hand again. The road was as narrow as any other old Boston street and there really wasn’t a better place to stop.

  “Emily,” he called as she jumped down from the cab. She turned back to face him. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

  She nodded at his grin and slammed the door.

  Climbing up a little stoop, she fit her key into a typical oak-and-glass door of the old-school walk-up she lived in, putting her shoulder to it to push it open. Before she let it drop shut behind her, she turned and waved, one of her glimmery Emily smiles ticking her lips up on each side.

  He grinned to himself, watching the top of her head bob up at each of the stairwell windows as she climbed to the attic floor and disap
peared.

  Good things tonight. Good things.

  He put his truck back in drive, thinking that one of these days he was going to ask her what had happened. When he’d earned the right to ask, and when he’d earned the right to hear her answer.

  13

  Emily

  “Ash!” I tried not to slam the door as I rushed into the apartment.

  “Ashley!”

  Her bike was locked up in the hallway, and her bag was at the door.

  “Ashton!”

  Our apartment just was not this big.

  “Ashleyton!”

  “Stop calling me that!” she shouted back from the bathroom. “I’m getting out of the shower. Give me a minute.”

  I went into my dining-bedroom and pulled off my shoes, tucking them in the cubby at the end of my mattress on the floor. With the space I had, I was lucky I only owned a couple pairs of…well, everything.

  Ash wandered around the edge of my dresser into the dining-bedroom and bounced down on my mattress.

  “What’s up, oh, Impatient One?”

  “I like him.” I threw myself down next to her, tossing my arm over my eyes. If only I could swoon.

  I bet Megan could swoon.

  “The guitar guy?” She ran the brush through her hair, looking me over like I was nuts.

  “Yes. Sage. The guitar-slash-carpenter-slash-sound-guy-slash-Brew patron.”

  “That’s a lot of slashes.”

  “Right?” I sat up and looked at her like this was an aha moment. “I mean, how do you get around a guy with that many slashes?”

  I felt my body clenching up, the weight of worry settling over me like a hair blanket on a July day.

  “So, I have a couple questions,” Ash began, always the reasonable one. “First, is it time to let go of whatever the past crap is? Next, is this the guy to do it with? And, finally, where the heck is Megan?”

  “Megan took the Zipcar to go show it off to her ex.” It didn’t make any more sense now than it did an hour ago.

  “Let me guess. She made this announcement and jumped in the car, zooming off before giving you a chance to join her.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Ash shook her head. “I love that girl, but her world view doesn’t go past her nose.”

  “True fact.”

  “Which means… Everything-slash-everything-else guy drove you home?”

  “Yup.”

  “And you survived!” she all but shouted. I could feel her need to add Hallelujah! on the end.

  When she didn’t, I gave her a second to get it out of her system before going on.

  “Okay. I get it.” Well, as much as I could.

  It wasn’t like every guy out there was the kind to completely take advantage of a girl and ruin her life.

  “Your life isn’t ruined.” Ash read my mind. Or maybe she just knew what I was thinking because I’d mentioned the Life Ruining Event Not to be Mentioned before.

  “My life isn’t what it could have been.”

  I tried not to dwell on it, not to just let myself settle into how that one betrayal cascaded into even bigger ones. Not to let myself wonder how all those people who had promised me a good life threw me away.

  “No one’s is.” Ash gave me the saddest smile I’d ever seen from her.

  I knew she wasn’t dismissing anything she knew or assumed had happened to me—she was just saying everyone had their thing.

  “Multiple-slash guy sounds like a pretty good deal.” She scooted back, setting her back against the wall. “Why don’t you try taking a chance on him, see what happens?”

  I thought about it, the chance she was telling me to take. It wasn’t like I’d climbed so high I had a far way to fall. And, Sage seemed like a decent sort.

  Of course, Troy had too, but…

  “Okay, I guess I could spend an hour or two with him.”

  Ash rolled her eyes; apparently my take-a-chance and hers differed a lot.

  “Way to go out on that limb, Em.” She hopped off the bed, turning back for just a second. “You know, because I want your sanity to return, I’m going to suggest we maybe not tell Megan about this.”

  Right. Because Megan and Sanity were passing friends, at the most.

  “Would you stop looking at the door?” Abby stood in the kitchen doorway, hands on her hips. “Do you know something I don’t? Are we going to get robbed or something?”

  “Um…not that I know of.” Because wouldn’t that just ruin my plan?

  “Then, the staring…what’s up with that?” Abby had come to join me at the counter.

  A couple of her friends were sitting in their usual overstuffed chairs doing whatever they did. On the other side of the room, Mr. Grouchy did whatever it is he did. The mid-morning rush was over and we were restocking for lunchtime.

  Abby had started making small gourmet sandwiches on fresh bread, and we were seeing a pickup in the midday time.

  “Oh.” Abby grinned at me before she turned away, looking pleased with herself.

  “Oh, what?” Because that wasn’t suspicious.

  “Just, oh. I know what you’re waiting for…or should I say who?” She cocked an eyebrow at me, and before I could come up with some witty comeback, she wandered off and dropped into a chair with her friends.

  Fine. I was obvious. Whatever.

  But, Sage might not even come in today. Or this week.

  He said he wasn’t doing the carpentry thing for a few weeks, and now that I knew where his other job was, it made sense he wouldn’t be here.

  Not that I was worried.

  Nope.

  The door opened and, for just a moment, the person in the doorway was haloed by the sun—just a tall, lean silhouette. My heart jumped. It wasn’t about Sage, per se. It was that I was going to reach out to someone. Nothing to do with him specifically.

  Nope.

  The door fell shut as he came forward, and the guy came into view.

  Not Sage.

  Oh.

  “Hi! Welcome to The Brew.” I smiled at Nick, Connor and Hailey’s assistant, as he swaggered on in.

  “Hey there, Emily. How’s the day treating you?” He smiled his broad, warm smile and I thought, well, he doesn’t seem overly threatening, either.

  “Better all the time.” Because, staying down isn’t where I wanted to be.

  “Sounds like the right way to go.” He leaned against the counter, comfortable wherever he was. “I’m going to need some caffeine to go, and a favor.”

  Oh. A favor. That sounded…risky. Guys always put things they wanted in soft language. They knew how to make you think something was a little deal, and then next thing you knew—BAM! You’re dealing with the cops and explaining your living situation to strangers.

  “Wow, no need to panic.” He laughed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Nothing illegal, or anything.”

  He laughed again, as if this was such an unthinkable thing.

  “What are you looking to do?” I asked.

  He leaned forward, a conspiratorial look on his face that made my heart rate ratchet up further than it had in a while.

  “Connor is surprising Hailey by coming home during his road break.” He glanced over his shoulder and dropped his voice again. “He was supposed to stay out for some interviews, but he’s coming back a day early and wants to take her to dinner.”

  He slid a little box you might get chocolates in across the counter.

  I glanced down at it as if it were a bomb.

  “What’s in that?”

  The suspicion must have come through in my voice because he looked at me like I’d asked, How long until it detonates?

  “It’s a little embossed invitation to Il Giardino for dinner tonight.” He opened the box and the invitation sprung open with it, a cream page with lovely gold print scrolls shaping a formally worded invitation. “Do you think after I leave you could walk this over to her on one of your little trays?”

  Ah, my trays. Abby hated those t
rays.

  “Sure!” I glanced down again as he folded the invitation in and closed the lid again. “That’s actually really adorable.”

  “Thanks.” Nick looked so proud of himself I must have given him a look. “What? Who do you think arranges all these romantic ideas Connor has?”

  With a wink, he grabbed the coffee I’d set in front of him and swaggered out, leaving me to think about the fact that the richest, best-looking, most famous guy I’d ever met was sending his girlfriend embossed invitations to meet him for a surprise dinner.

  I thought again about taking that chance with Sage and knew I could do it. Knew I could take this one small chance.

  It wasn’t as if I were asking him to marry me.

  And that’s exactly what I was thinking when he finally wandered in.

  “Hey!” Geez, Emily. Chill.

  Sage gave me a smile that looked like I’d shouted Duck! instead.

  “How are you? Good? Things good? The music thing? Good?”

  “Yup, good. All good.” He leaned against the counter and pulled out his wallet. “And you’re…good?”

  “Yup! I’m good!” Oh my gosh. Even I could hear this was too cheerful.

  I glanced across the room and Abby was shaking her head, eyes closed in disgust.

  “So, the regular?”

  “Um, yeah.”

  I made him what I was pretty sure he’d had last time and slid it across the counter, trying to figure out how to dive into this.

  “So, you know, I thought since we got to go spend a day with you—at your job, not, you know, just randomly—that maybe, if it doesn’t sound too boring—you might want to spend a day at work with me.” I sucked in a breath, afraid at any second he’d start laughing at me. “Unless you got enough Emily time and never want to see me again and are trying to figure out how to get your coffee when I’m not here so you can live in peace or something.”

  I could see Sage struggling not to laugh. I glanced at him, and Abby had gone from shaking her head to literally laying it down on the table and hiding from me.