Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (27 page)

Phil

Oh, holy fuck. Oh my god. Is this for fuckin’ real? Am I starin’ at my Baby Girl?

Holy fuckin’ shit. It’s her. It’s really her.

And all I could do was stare at her fuckin’ hand. It
couldn’t be her. It couldn’t be real. All the fuckin’ dying inside for the last six years, and she’d just up and walked in through my fuckin’ front door.

“Baby Girl?” My voice sounded softly strangled. It was no wonder because I could hardly fuckin’ breathe.

My Baby Girl shrugged, like it was no biggie. “You called me that once.”

She wriggled her fingers, indicating that I was making this handshake a bit awkward.

“Baby Girl
?”
squeaked Sheri from the bar.

Unable to restrain herself, that dark pygmy woman had her camera out again, and she was snapping photos like she was shooting at sitting ducks.

I blinked because—
fuckin’ A, man
—Kenna was as bright as the fuckin’ sun. So fuckin’ beautiful, she snatched the breath from me. I took a step forward and then another, and then I took her hand but not to shake.

No, I placed her palm over my thundering heart and held it there.

With her touch, the gray fog that had descended upon the world when I lost her lifted, and the brilliance of life enhanced my entire existence once more. I had forgotten that I had briefly known how beautiful life could actually be.

I don’t fuckin’ believe it.

Lifting my other hand, I reached out and pulled the floppy hat off her head, and that glorious hair that I’d looked the world over for and never saw again spilled over her shoulders and down her back.

“Oh my God,” I breathed. “It is you.”

“It’s me,” she agreed, smiling.

Fuck me
. That smile just did me in. My dick twitched, and my heart raced even harder. She looked like my own fuckin’ angel, heaven sent, glowing with the light only the divine had inspired.

“You’re
here.” And I was making a complete ass of myself.

“You told me not to go anywhere,” she joked.

I swore I could hear the mental high five her best friends gave each other. Suddenly, I realized that it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop in here. No music was playing, and glancing around, I saw everyone was staring at us.

It ain’t supposed to be like this! She ain’t no fuckin’ peep show!

In an unexpected move, I lifted her and threw her over my shoulder, holding her steady with my hand on her lower back, and I walked through the kitchen.

I stopped in front of the fridge. “Um, you want something to drink?”

“I’ll take a water,” she replied, sounding completely unfazed to have her face dangling above my ass.

I opened the fridge and grabbed some bottles of water, and then I walked toward the back of the kitchen where I slid open the sliding glass door.

“Fuck!” I shouted. “Fuckin’ people everywhere!”

Everywhere I looked, knots of our friends and crew were just fuckin’ up the one time I really, really needed to be alone.

My Baby Girl cracked up.

Oh, man
. That was making me so hard. For the last six years, I had died a little every day, not being able to hear it. Now that I was…

Do I take her to my place?
No one’s allowed over there.

I could. It’d be easier. But I was afraid I’d just rip off my clothes before ripping off hers, and then I’d go at her like a crazed beast.

Instead, I started striding through the backyard, and I noticed even more people were out here, staring at us as we beat a hasty retreat. Beneath my bare feet was the newly laid tile path leading out to the pond with the bench. Every few feet, tiki torches lit the way.

“If any motherfuckers are back here, y’alls better move your asses out!” I bellowed. “Out!”

I heard the sounds of people moving through the bushes.

Seriously, I have a house with rooms and fuckin’ furniture, and people are fuckin’ in my bushes.

It was one of the roadies and two of the groupies.

Two. What the fuck?

I stopped and set her on her feet, off the tiled path and in the grass. We were sheltered by a few trees, and a tiki torch not far from us provided enough light, so we could see each other.

I don’t believe it. I’m fuckin’ freakin’ the fuck out. I’m alone with my Baby Girl!

“Is this real?” I asked before I could control my mouth.

“I believe so,” she replied.

For lack of feeling in my face, I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, and I noticed her looking at my knuckles, which were newly tattooed. I didn’t want her to see them—not yet.

When I dropped my hand, I breathed her name, “Kenna.”

“Yep,” she confirmed. “It’s been a while, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I was just staring down at her. I was at a total loss for words. For so long, I’d dreamed of this moment and imagined what I’d tell her, saying how much I’d thought of her, how I adored her, that she was my fuckin’ muse. And now—

“Holy shit, you’re nervous!” she said.

My back straightened a bit. “Too fuckin’ right I am. I’ve been waitin’ for this moment for six fuckin’ years. I think I’ve pictured it a thousand different ways.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t one of them then,” she said.

She smiled, and—
fuck me
—I couldn’t fuckin’ think for shit.

“No. You?”

“Not really. No.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “How have you been?”

“All right. You?”

“All right.”

“Good.” She smiled again.

Really, this was fuckin’ ridiculous.

“Yeah…” I rubbed the back of my neck, staring into her eyes. I couldn’t see the color right then, but I knew they were the clearest darkest green.

They compelled me to confess, “Baby Girl, I have no idea what to say to you. I swear, I used to have a whole speech lined up, but I can’t for the life of me remember it.”

She shrugged. “I don’t need a speech. I just need—” She stopped herself, and even in the low tiki torchlight, I could see her blushing.

“What?” I asked, feeling desperate to give her everything she’d ever wanted. “What do you need?”

She laughed nervously. “I don’t know.”

I nodded, knowing the fuckin’ feeling. Glancing away from her bewitching eyes, I remembered I had a bottle of water for her, and I handed one over. Her fingers brushed mine as she took it, and I nearly melted at her feet.

“You know what?” she said.

Her voice sounded rich and smooth, like butter. She placed the bottle on the ground and sat next to it. Sifting through a monster of a bag, she pulled out a wicked-looking ancient silver cigarette case.

“What?” I asked, sitting cross-legged directly in front of her. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her face.

My Baby Girl was the most beautiful creature ever created. She was just so fuckin’ stunning to look at. She wasn’t the average type of beauty. She was
beyond
it. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to reach out and touch her.

She pulled out a joint and lit it. “I’m just going to quit being nervous and be myself. How does that sound?”

“Fuckin’ perfect,” I replied.

“So, what do you say we imagine that I never got kicked out of Bougainvillea?” she said before inhaling deep.

Her weed smelled off the fuckin’ chain.

“Okay.”

“What do you think would have happened?”

“At the very least, I think I would’ve made sure I got your phone number,” I stated, feeling that spark of anger all over again. “And then I would’ve stalked you and harassed you until you agreed to be my girlfriend.”

She cracked up.

My god, her laugh twisted me up inside somethin’
fierce.
Her laughter brought the rapture into my soul while her eyes flashed and twinkled at me.

“What about you?” I asked.

She passed the joint to me. “Well, I would have given you my phone number, and I can honestly say that it wouldn’t have taken a whole lot of stalking and harassment on your part.”

Oh, fuck yes!
I passed back the joint. “You still get the best weed I’ve ever smoked.”

“That’s what Flipper told us.”

I perked up a bit at that. “How the fuck did he find you?”

“He walked into my clinic on Monday,” she replied.

“You’re seriously a doctor?”
Beautiful and smart. Fuckin’ A.

“I am. I practice therapeutic medicine.”

“Wow. You fixed him up pretty fast. He didn’t miss a beat, and he had been so fucked up when he left us in Portland.”

She shrugged, being all modest. “It’s what I do.”

Again, I caught myself just openly staring at her, and I realized it might be a bit creepy.

Fuck
it. I’m a creep then.

She passed the joint. I was still staring at her as I hit it.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” I said. It was true.

Before, she had seemed softer, still carrying a layer of adolescence. Now, she was hardened somehow, aging into a queen—
my
fuckin’ queen. She had angles and sharpness that I found heartbreaking in its beauty. She was still soft. I had felt that when I hefted her over my shoulder. But she was
all woman
now.

My Baby Girl blushed, which charmed me like nothing else.

“Thank you. You’re quite beautiful yourself,” she told me, blushing even harder.

“You ain’t seein’ anyone, are you?” I demanded. It was a bit uncouth of me, but I wasn’t fuckin’ waiting any longer to make her mine.

“No,” she replied.

She gave me a slight smile, making my dick twitch. The fuckin’ thing had been at half-mast since the moment I laid eyes on her, like it was just waiting for the right signal to go full on.

Everything else inside me relaxed. “You are now.”

She cracked up again. “Just like that? You’re supposed to
ask
me, not inform me!”

“I ain’t takin’ no for an answer, Baby Girl. So, it doesn’t matter either way.”

“Shouldn’t we at least find out if we like each other first?”

“Trust me, I like you plenty,” I assured her. “And you can’t say you don’t like me.”

She arched an elegant brow at me, and I gave her a shit-eating grin.

“So, what happened after Bougainvillea?” I asked.

“I went home.”

Takin’ all the colors of the world with you
,
I thought.

“What about you?”

It was the first time I couldn’t look her in the eyes. “I got pissed.”

“Well, that’s not vague.”

“I nearly beat the shit out of that bouncer. It wasn’t cool.” That wasn’t a lie, but not so much the whole truth.

“No, I suppose not,” she said with a smile. “You guys did some great circuits after that. We went and saw you in Lafayette at Wigglers.”

My eyes snapped back to her face. “Why didn’t you try to see me?”

“Really? They let crazed teenage girls backstage to attack the bands?”

I grinned, feeling a bit sheepish. “I guess not, no, but still.”

“You were touring, Phil, living a dream many don’t get to experience. I guess I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

“You wouldn’t have,” I said with a little more heat than I wished.

“You don’t know that,” she replied gently, cooling the fire in me.

“I would have taken you with me,” I told her, keeping my tone soft.

She squirmed a little, and I realized my voice did something funny to her. A triumphant evil grin split across my face.

“I wouldn’t have gone.”

My evil grin dissipated. “Why not?”

I felt pissed now, and it made her squirm some more.

“There were several reasons.”

“And they are?”
Yeah, I’m pissed.

“One, my mother had died, and I wouldn’t have left my grandmother alone after losing her only child—”

“Oh god, Baby Girl.” I reached out and took her hands in mine, feeling like an absolute douche. “I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know. It’s all right,” she said softly.

“How did she…”

“She had a heart condition. She passed away three weeks after we met actually. She had been sick for a while, and we all knew it was only a matter of time.”

My hands firmly squeezed hers, and I loved the feel of them, so strong and pulsing with heat.

“I lost my mom, too,” I told her, surprised I’d actually volunteered that. “She died when I was five. Got so drunk that she puked and drowned in her own vomit.”

“That must have been hard on you,” she said softly.

“I don’t remember it too much,” I said. “I don’t really talk about it either.”

She nodded, and she totally got me in that instant.

“And I was going to school,” she continued. “I wouldn’t have given that up for the life of a groupie.”

She was teasing me.

“You wouldn’t have been a groupie. You would’ve been my woman. There’s a difference.”

I didn’t feel like teasing back. She needed to understand what she meant to me.

“Instead, I became a doctor,” she said. “And I went on to practice and research therapies to relieve pain and reduce the use of synthetic drugs.”

“That’s fucking amazing. And you’re what? Twenty-five?”

“I just turned twenty-four.”

“Shut the fuck up. I thought you turned nineteen that night at Bougainvillea.”

“Nope. I turned eighteen at midnight. One of my friends used to work the door, and he let me in a few hours early.”

That bit of info kind of floored me. She had looked young but not
that
young. She had been total jailbait when I spotted her on the floor while we were on stage.

“I came back on Wednesday—on your birthday,” I told her, keeping that soft voice going that made her squirm.

“You seriously remembered it was my birthday?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

To show her just how serious I was, I reached out and took her face in my hands, gently molding my palms and fingers around the gorgeous planes. Looking into her eyes, I made it quite clear that I wasn’t fuckin’ joking.

Before she could try to pull back, I leaned forward and captured her lips with mine. Behind my closed lids, the universe exploded into prisms of light and colors. Her tongue slipped sweetly into my mouth, all soft and velvety, and she tasted like weed and honey and cream and
Kenna.