Only for You (2 page)

Parker joins me behind the
bar, drink orders in hand. “Did you call in
reinforcements?”

Just as I answer in the
affirmative, the door swings open and the hair on the back of my
neck stands at attentions.

Wouldn’t you know it, but
Everett Morgan swaggers in.

“
Holy shit,” Parker
swears.

“
Yeah, nice to know what
I’ll look like at that age,” I say, trying to play it off. But
inside, I’m just as amazed as my brother. Everett Morgan is
me—twenty years older and a million times cockier.

“
I never thought
you—”

I turn to my brother and
say, “Dude, you were like three when he stopped coming
around.”

Parker blows out a breath,
his green eyes narrowing. “Want me to ask him to leave?”

“
Once he figures out he’s
not wanted to needed, he won’t stay long,” I say as I face the man
I loathe. “Ain’t that right, Everett?”

He takes the toothpick out
of his mouth and grins. “Oh, I don’t know about all that.
Son
.”

*** *** ***

Violet

“
Are you nervous?” Lacey
asks, her big, brown eyes staring at my reflection. She blows her
bangs out of her face. She skipped roller derby practice to be here
for me, and I can’t thank her enough.

I tilt my head to one side,
and give her a confident smile. “Butterflies are multiplying but
that’s to be expected.” Butterflies? Ha, more like dive-bombing
cat-birds have taken up residence.

Lacey perches on the edge
of my chair, one leg swinging. The tennis shoes she wears are dull
in color and have seen better days, but they’re clean, like the
rest of her clothes. She lives with her parents and has ten
brothers and sisters that she helps homeschool on her days
off.

I don’t know if I could be
that unselfish of a person at nineteen, but Lacey’s nature is
sweet, giving, and caring. She brings out the best in me, unlike my
former best friend, Callie Hughes.

But I’m pretty sure the
whole ‘she slept with my ex-boyfriend while we were dating’ tends
to color my opinion of her
friendship
.

I gloss my lips, snap back
on the top, and stand, grabbing the set list that Parker put
together for me and hand it to Lacey. “What do you think I should
sing first?”

Scanning the list, she
mouths a few titles and looks up at me, her brows drawn together.
“Cole doesn’t like country music.”

“
No, he doesn’t,” I
agree.

“
Then why would you sing
these songs in his bar?”

Lacey’s view of things is
firmly black or white. Nuances or teasing, a lot of the time, are
lost on her. “Because he said that I could sing them tonight. But
only tonight.”

She looks at me
suspiciously, but I don’t get mad, because I know her thinking. If
Cole gets upset, then that means Wyatt Tanaka (his best friend)
will get upset, which will make Lacey upset.

“
I promise, Lacey. Cole’s
okay with it.”

Satisfied with my response,
her gaze lowers to the list again. “I like that one.” She points to
the fifth one down, and I gulp a little. “You sound so in love when
you sing it.”

Holdin’ On To
You.

It’s the one I used to sing
with Jaxon whenever we went on tour. When I saw that song on the
list, I’d purposefully ignored it.

I lick my lips. “I don’t
think Cole would like it.” Even if he wouldn’t have a clue that I
sung it with Jaxon first.

“
But now you’re singing it
to Cole.” Her eyes widen and she smiles. “You could get him to come
on stage and sing together. Cole has a very nice voice. He likes to
sing while he cleans.”

I laugh. “Maybe I should
get him to clean for me, then. The only time I’ve heard him sing
was in the bar and he was riffing off Lady Gaga.” But his
musicality had surprised me, and the tenor of his voice. It was
full-throated and sexy. Like him.

There’s a knock at the door
before it opens. Parker sticks his head and smiles, dimples
flashing. Looking at that boy would make any woman smile. He’s all
golden skinned with golden hair and green eyes, and a sweet
disposition to match.

He never gets mad or angry.
He’s the voice of reason and calm in the storm of his family,
especially with his brother.

But I prefer the storm. I
prefer Cole Morgan, and there’s nothing that anyone could do or say
to change my mind.

“
Ten minutes, ladies.”
Parker’s smile disappears, and then the door bangs open. “Hey, you
can’t go in there.”

In walks my past, all
six-foot-three, strawberry blonde hair, and baby blue eyes of it. I
blink, stunned to find him here. Stunned to see him so…
happy
to see
me.

I hear Lacey swallow
audibly. “Oh my God,” she whispers loudly. “He looks like Prince
Harry and Alexander Pettyfer got married and had a baby, but now
he’s older and not a baby.”

His Royal Pain
smirks. “Don’t encourage him,” I say to Lacey,
who unfortunately looks starstruck. He winks at her and she blushes
before he turns his attention back to me.

“
Hey baby girl, ready to
sing?”

“
Without you,
always.”

Jaxon crosses the room to
stand right in front of me. “You can’t perform. Contract and all
that shit.”

“
I’m not singing as Violet
Lynn.”

He bites the side of his
lip and shakes his head. “Baby doll, that contract of yours is
locked tight. Nothing better come from these lips.” He touches my
mouth before I can slap his hand away. “But Everett is generous
enough to let both of us sing for the Save The Double Deuce
Benefit.”

God, no. “Parker,” I
yell.

“
My bodyguards are helping
him back to the bar, where he belongs.” Jaxon walks to the couch
and sits down, cowboy boots scuffed just so. His jeans are frayed
at the bottom and the dark purple, button-down shirt does things to
his eyes that girls love.

Lacey can’t take her eyes
off him, and I want to groan. “Where’s Wyatt, Lacey?”

“
Waiting for me,” she
says, still riveted by the asshole on my couch.

“
Don’t you want to go to
him?” I ask, taking her hand and tugging her to the safe side of
the room.

She looks at me, and then
at the door. People walk by—tons of people that weren’t there
before. They are carrying equipment and instruments. “I can’t go
out there,” she says, her voice thin.

I take her phone from her
pocket and gently grab her hand. “Let’s text Wyatt together,
okay?”

Jaxon catches my eye, a
frown marring his forehead. He looks… concerned.
So fake
, I think. Before
we can finish the text, Wyatt comes through the door, like a man on
a mission.

But one look at Lacey and
he settles down. “Sweetheart, let’s go outside and see the stray
cat that Cole keeps feeding. Maybe we can figure out a good home
for it.”

She says nothing, just
keeps staring at the hallway and chewing on her lip, her poor body
shaking like a leaf.

“
Lacey Evans,” Wyatt says,
his voice less coaxing and more firm. “Look at me.”

Her eyes refocus and I let
out a sigh of relief when she cries, “Wyatt!” She runs to him,
wrapping her arms around his neck, and then suddenly lets go, head
down and shoe scrapping at the carpeted floor. “Sorry,” she
mumbles.

He lifts her chin, peering
at her through dark lashes. “Hey, anytime you want to tackle hug me
like that, you go for it.”

“’
Kay,” she whispers, just
loud enough for me to hear. “Rae’s singing country music
tonight.”

“
I know,” he says,
flashing me an apologetic smile. I shake my head, letting him know
that I don’t mind her “ratting me out”. “Cole’s happy Rae’s
singing.”

“
That’s good.” Lacey
glances over her shoulder at me. “Wyatt says Cole is happy. So sing
the song I picked out.”

Not happening.
“Sure.”

They leave the room, door
wide open, with Lacey safely tucked between Wyatt and the
wall.

I feel Jaxon’s presence
behind me. “What do you want?”

He says the one thing that
could send me screaming into the night. The one thing I desperately
needed to hear while I was in the hospital all alone, while I was
lying in a field and bleeding to death… when I learned I’d lost our
baby.

But maybe that was my
imagination or wishful thinking on my part. He’s with Callie and
I’m with Cole—completely happy and in love with Cole. But there’s a
connection between us that can’t be denied.

“
Excuse me?”

He takes my hands in his,
long musicians’ fingers that used to know how to play my body
touching my skin. I feel
nothing
, nothing at all for
him.

“
I said…
You
. Rae. I want
you.”

Chapter Two

Cole

Son.

Everett’s so casual about
that word, or maybe he thinks it will butter me up. Either way, I
don’t care. I’m beyond caring. Caring about him ended about ten
years ago, when I realized after my first attempt at shaving, that
the only person who would be around to show me was my mom. Or one
of her boyfriends.

Officer Ford had been the
one to end up doing it, after I’d left the house looking like I’d
taken a cheese grater to my face.

“
When that heals up, I’ll
show you how to shave the right way,” he said.

I squinted up at him, big
and tall in his blue uniform. “You ain’t my daddy.”

Officer Ford placed his
hands on his hips, a small smile on his face. I had seen that look
before on quite a few adults in town, and recognized it for what it
was: Pity.

“
Yeah, I ain’t your daddy,
but I am a police officer, and it’s my job to protect people.” He
tore off one of the scraps of toilet paper on my chin. “And son, it
looks like your face needs some protecting.”

Rubbing at the spot over
my ear, I mull his words over. “No perfume though. That shit
burns.”

“
Language, Cole.” He
smacks the back of my head, and I grin. So does he. Then he holds
out his other hand and shakes mine, like we’re both adults. “I
won’t make you use perfume. Deal?”

I blink.

Strange how that particular
memory bubbles up, especially since the dude loves to arrest my
ass.

“
Damn boy, you’re one
shitty bartender,” I hear Everett complain. “Shitty service from
the waitresses too. Looks like nothing’s changed.”

Smirking, I say, “You sure
have,
old
man.” I
make sure to emphasize the word old.

Growing up, my mother had
drilled what Everett liked and disliked into my brother’s and my
head so we’d help make him stay. One thing that got him going, his
age. Everett’s fifteen years older than Crystal, and when they
fought, she liked to remind him of it. When she’d come to The
Double Duce, with Parker and me in tow, she’d flirt with guys her
own age and younger just to piss my dad off.

And boy would it piss him
off.

He’s like those guys you
see in town, still cruising the strip and still stopping at all the
same spots, just like he did in high school. Those guys don’t look
in the mirror and see age; they look in the mirror and only see
memories.

Of course as soon as he
even hinted at leaving Forrestville, my momma would get all weepy
and apologetic. They’d go in the back of the bar and leave Parker
and me with our Uncle Max or Officer Ford.

Everett lunges at me, but
Officer Ford suddenly appears, his arm snaking around my dad and
holding him back. “As much as I’d love for you to beat some sense
into this boy, I’d hate to arrest your ass in front of all these
lovely reporters.”

“
Sure… you’d hate to
arrest his, but mine, you have no problem arresting.” I shoot Ford
a look. “Do you get points for harassing people under the age of
twenty-five or something?”

“
Sky miles. Saving up for
a trip to Australia,” Ford quips and I blink. He’s making
jokes?

“
Now that y’all finished
chitchatting, I’d appreciate if you’d let me go,” Everett
growls.

Dark blue eyes, my blue
eyes, glare at me before my dad rounds on Ford. Instead of a punch
to the face like I expect, he does one of those man hugs with lots
of claps to the back.

“
Brent Ford. It’s been a
while,” my dad says. “But you’re still here. Still doing your
thing.”

Ford doesn’t even miss a
beat. “Someone had to look after your kids.”

To my surprise, Everett
nods. “Yeah, Crystal isn’t the most responsible mother.”

“
Fuck you.” I clench my
jaw, right along with my fists, and fix my gaze on Everett. “At
least she was there. That’s more than you can ever
claim.”