FUEL (DirtSlap Series Book 1) (18 page)

Her head fell back on a throaty laugh. Her bare neck tempted Thrand because he knew exactly how fast he could make her pulse throb right there.

“Not happening,” Cassie said, and those wicked eyes landed on him. “He knows better then to even try.”

Thrand winked at her. “Why would I want to?”

She curled her hand around his arm, and leaned up to kiss him. “Smart man.”

He returned her light kiss, and shook his head when her teeth tugged at his lip before he pulled away.

“Like I said, lucky bastard,” Dooley muttered then pointed at a flyer on the window. “You ready for your set?

DirtSlap was printed in big jagged font, with a picture of their band in the background.

Cassie had taken all the pictures, and designed the whole thing. It looked amazing. She’d even signed up for photography and graphic art classes. He was damn proud of her.

“I’m stoked, man. And we’re as ready as we’ll ever be. Just hope we don’t empty the place with our sound.”

“Gotta say, I’m looking forward to hearing this.” Dooley popped his large knuckles and flexed his hand. “Mick said you guys got it.”

“This was Mick’s idea. I just hope we do him proud.”

*

Cassie grinned at
the flyer. She was thrilled with how it turned out. She’d taken a ton of pictures of the guys, settling on one had been hard. But this one, with Ethan front and center, was awesome. He was the perfect lead singer.

She glanced at Thrand as he talked to Dooley. She hadn’t paid much attention to the last of bit their conversation. Hearing the gravelly tone of Thrand’s voice and feeling his hand cupping the back of her neck was enough.

He was hers. She felt it every time he touched her.

She leaned against Thrand, and said to Dooley, “You’ll love them. Trust me.”

She went inside, Thrand following closely behind.

Her skin prickled. It gave her a little thrill knowing he couldn’t keep his eyes off her for long.

“Hey, Jailbait.” Mick put a beer in front of her.

“Thanks.” She placed her camera bag on the bar, and turned in time for Thrand to nuzzle her ear, his hands on her hips.

“Looking good in those jeans, Buzz. You think you can behave yourself?” he whispered and gave her a little squeeze.

She slid her tongue along his lips. “What do you think?”

“I think you don’t know how. But try, ‘kay?”

“All right, you two. Break it up.” Lila slid beside her, and wagged her finger at Thrand.

He grinned, and smacked Cassie’s ass, making her squeak. “Keep her out of trouble, Lila.”

He walked off to greet the rest of the band as they carried in their equipment.

Lila sighed, and draped an arm over Cassie’s shoulders as they watched him stride away. “Girl, I’m sorry, but that’s one fine man. Such a nice ass.”

Cassie swiveled her head and eyed her friend. “I didn’t think you saw him like that.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I thought you were…uh…” She didn’t know how to say it without sounding rude.

“Gay? You thought I was gay?” Lila screeched.

Mick’s laugh boomed behind her, and Lila looked at her like she’d grown horns. “Well, I never see you with any guys and—”

“Oh girl, you kill me. Believe me, I’m into the guys. Just picky.”

“Nope. She’s just mean, and guys have no idea how to handle her,” Mick said.

Lila stuck her tongue out at him, then turned so they faced the guys setting up. “Don’t listen to him. See Ethan, now that boy is hot as hell. And no one, not even you, can say you haven’t noticed. And Thrand, of course. We agree about that one.”

Lila whispered as she leaned in close, even though Lila didn’t really whisper anything. “Ryan, he’s almost the boy next door, until you see his grin. Cute as fuck, but such a pain in the ass. But Zak,” she paused, “that’s the one who will steal your heart if you’re not careful. Such quiet intensity. You can never figure out what’s going on in his head, yet you’re dying to know.”

Cassie blinked as her friend scrutinized Zak. Did Lila have a thing for him? “You’re right. And he has incredible eyes.”

“You noticed that, too? Damn shame we don’t get to see them often. All that hair in his face.” Lila shook her head, then smiled. “Oh, forgot to tell you. We got a new girl.”

She pointed at the woman who just walked in.

She had long, dark hair, shorts, and cowboy boots that went perfectly with the Booseys shirt she wore.

Lila waved, drawing her to them. “Shelby, this is Cassie.”

Cassie took her hand and shook it. “Hey, welcome to the club.”

“Thanks. Nice to meet you,” Shelby said with her eyes glued to the stage.

Cassie grinned when Shelby’s mouth dropped slightly. “Before you ask, yeah, they’re country but with a little dirt.”

Shelby turned back to them briefly, before sneaking another peek at the guys. “He’s huge and definitely not country.”

“That’s Ethan. Wait ‘till you hear him sing,” Lila said on a sigh. “He sounds better than he looks, if you can believe it.”

Shelby’s brown eyes widened. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“The guy on drums is Thrand. Zak is the bassist and Ryan is on guitar,” Cassie said. “DirtSlap. This is their first official gig.”

“You know a lot about them.” Shelby tied an apron around her waist.

Lila sniggered. “She would. She’s banging the drummer.”

Heat hit Cassie’s cheeks and she elbowed Lila. “Geez, you make me sound like some groupie.”

“Well, it’s the truth.” Lila patted her cheeks. “Don’t worry, Jailbait. We know you love him.”

She left her with Shelby.

“Jailbait?”

“I’m legal. Long story. Believe me, it’s better than what I used to be called.” Cassie waved her hand and took a sip of her beer. “This your first night?”

“Yup. Do you work here?”

“I do. But tonight I’m taking pictures.” She tapped her camera bag for emphasis. “Hope you’re ready for a busy night. Once they start playing, I have a feeling this place is gonna be hopping.”

“I’ve waitressed before.”

The girl was pretty, but sadness lingered on her face. She also appeared a tad nervous the way she crossed her arms around her waist, her too-wide eyes drifting over the small crowd before they settled on the stage again. Cassie understood the feeling and pulled out her camera.

Ethan stood still, mic in his hand. He had mirrored shades on, so she couldn’t tell what he was looking at, but it would make a great picture.

“Lila is the best, so if you have trouble, let her know. Or Mick.”

“Thanks. I will.”

Cassie meandered through the tables, stopped, and aimed her camera at Ethan, who hadn’t moved, and snapped a pic. His shirt didn’t have sleeves so it showed off all his tatts and muscles. The angle made him look even taller than he was. The band had worked hard to get to this point, and she couldn’t wait to see the show on stage. Her heart raced in anticipation.

Her eyes met Thrand’s, and she smiled as one corner of his lips lifted slightly. It still didn’t seem real that he belonged to her. She sucked in a breath as he hopped off the stage next to her. His shoulders shifted with his body. It sent a thrill of awareness through her. Would she ever get tired of watching him? She didn’t think so. Some might misjudge him as smug, the way he moved, so sure of himself. He’d always had that, even when they were kids. Between Thrand’s cockiness and Cam’s recklessness, they had been quite the pair.

The pain of missing Cam slapped her. It took her by surprise, came out of nowhere, and hit her like a jolt. As much as she liked Ryan, Cam should be the one playing on guitar right now. Her happiness dimmed with the reminder of all he had missed by driving off that bridge.

Thrand touched her face, concern creasing his brow. “You all right, Cas?”

She nodded. Tears threatened, but didn’t fall. “Cam would be so proud of you.”

He cocked his head, making her heart flutter. “You think so?”

“I know he would.” She tightened a hand his shirt. “I wish he was here.”

“So do I.” He cupped the back of her neck, and drifted closer.

She gripped her cuff.

Cam’s cuff.

Thrand tilted her head up. “We can handle it. We’re making better memories. And he will always be a part of us.”

She met his intense gray eyes. Her world stood right there. She would go wherever he went. Moments were just that. A slip of time, and that’s all it took for everything to be taken away.

“I love you,” he murmured. His fingers slid along her jaw, and he kissed her gently.

She rested her head on his shoulder and breathed. His words seeped into her, and she soaked them in like a sponge. No one had said that to her. Not even Cam.

She’d never believed in the happy-ever-after, but she believed in him. In them. Their feelings were rock solid.

She wouldn’t waste what life had to offer.

She plastered her body against his and kissed him hard and deep. She drowned in his taste, and the arms that held her. She smiled against his lips and said, “It’s time to rock this house.”

He grinned. “That’s my girl.”

DirtSlap Series

By
Ashlynn Pearce

T
he white house
with the chipped paint and rickety porch screamed at Shelby Renner. Weeds grew tall in the yard and the concrete steps were cracked and crumbled. Her heart ached. Tears crowded her throat and spilled down her cheeks. The last time she’d seen the house, the paint was crisp, the yard well-tended. She should have come sooner.

She’d called Gran often but had no idea she had been in such poor health. Not until she got the call telling her she had died. Gran loved this home and wouldn’t have let it fall into such disrepair if she’d had a choice. Gran lied to her. She had been sick a long time.

She paced the driveway and her hands shook. If the outside looked this bad, what would she find on the inside?

She took a deep fortifying breath and walked down the cobbled path. Vines choked the rose bushes and the pink blooms were lost in the mess. Gran had taken such pride in her flowers and it saddened her to see them in such disarray. The porch ran along the entire front of the modest house. She could almost see Gran, sitting in the old wooden rocker, a smile on her face.

She sucked in her lower lip.
You can do this.
On leaden feet, she forced herself up the steps. She opened the wooden screen door, unlocked the main one and went inside.

She froze in the doorway. Boxes were stacked floor to ceiling and a thick coat of dust covered everything. She covered her mouth in horror. Gran was a neat freak. This…this was heart-wrenching.

Shelby’s gaze landed on the little white doily on the recliner and she fell back against the door. Gran would rest her head right there while napping.

Shelby sank to the floor and leaned against the closed door. Sobs tore her heart as she curled into a ball. She let the pain wash through her and squeezed her eyes shut.

Curse her mother and step-father for not letting her visit more.

Curse them for taking her away from here to begin with.

After giving herself a few moments, she rose to her feet and dropped her purse and keys on the side table near the door. Gran willed everything to her. The house, all its contents and the meager account she’d lived on. Much to the ire of her mother, Camellia, Shelby insisted she needed no help from her to sort through things.

Camellia could care less about anything that belonged to Gran, even though she was her mother. After years of living under Camellia and her husband, John’s, thumb, she was more than ready for a break. At twenty-two, she could make her own decisions. School could wait.

Too bad she hadn’t had the guts to stand up to them sooner.

She walked through the house, amazed how nothing had changed. Except for the boxes, time stood still. The same lace curtains were on the windows, the same little towels hung in the kitchen. All faded and dusty but still the same. The little knick-knacks and Gran’s porcelain collection of tiny cats sat in the hutch, just like they always had.

She swallowed her tears. Falling apart was not going to get her through this. She wandered around the home she’d lived in until she was ten. So many happy memories. She went upstairs and stepped into her bedroom. Her assortment of unicorns still littered the room, as though waiting for her to come back.

Ugly cries hit hard as she sat on her bed and bawled.

A week later found her in a bigger mess than when she started. No small feat to tackle all that was crammed into each nook and cranny. One thing it did do was put perspective on her overbearing parents. She didn’t want to return to Houston, where her every move was scrutinized. So, even though she hated confrontations, especially ones involving her parents, she called her mom.

“Hi, mom.”

“Darling. Do tell me you’re on your way home.”

“About that—”

“Yes, I’m talking to Shelby. She’s coming home.”

Shelby closed her eyes in annoyance. She knew her mother wasn’t going to listen to her, but she’d not even given her a chance to talk