Restless Heart (16 page)

“Of course! Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he assured her so sincerely that she wondered if she’d been wrong a moment ago.

She was so eager to get to Back in the Saddle that the usual fifteen-minute walk took only ten.

Seeing a familiar motorcycle parked at the curb, Destiny rolled her eyes and told Seth, “Guess who you get to meet?”

“Who?”

“Remember Carrie Underwood’s song ‘Cowboy Casanova’?”

“I remember the video. I get to meet Carrie Underwood?”

“No, you get to meet a real live Cowboy Casanova. As in my lead guitarist, Jesse Jansen.”

Seth narrowed his eyes. “Does he ever flirt with you?”

“Jesse flirts with everyone. Trust me, I’m not the least bit tempted. I just hope Grace can keep her distance. He’s exactly her type—or what she
thinks
is her type.”

They entered the restaurant and found Ralph working on the specials board in the vestibule. “Well, look who’s here. What brings you in at this time of day?”

“Lunch,” Destiny answered and gave Seth a discreet nudge with her elbow. She didn’t want Ralph to know about her business dealings until she had all of the details. “Do you remember my boyfriend, Seth Caldwell?”

“Sure do. I’ve seen him in the front row when a certain someone performs on Saturday nights.” Ralph shook Seth’s hand and added grandly, “Listen, you two order whatever you want. It’s on me.”

It was amazing—and amusing, for that matter—how differently Ralph treated her now that she brought customers in the doors in droves.

It was early, and the place was still pretty empty. Destiny spotted Grace over by the bar, chatting with Max, who was stocking it. Destiny knew that her cute and curvy sister had a crush on the bartender, and suspected Max shared the attraction, but was too shy to do anything about it.

Grace wasn’t so sure. She didn’t get “shy,” having gravitated toward the opposite type for years: tall, dark, and with an attitude.

Destiny had thought about saying something to get the ball rolling on Max’s end, but then decided not to butt in. Grace tended to jump into relationships; it would probably do her good to ease slowly into this relationship—if there was going to be one.

Catching sight of Destiny and Seth, Grace broke off whatever she’d been saying to Max and called, “Hey, what are you guys doing here?”

“Having lunch. Where’s your section?”

“You’re standing in it. I got Ralph to let me work the bar tables today.”

“Gee, I wonder why.” Destiny couldn’t resist saying as she and Seth slid onto stools at one of the tall tables.

“Kind of like I’m wondering why you two are here when you could’ve had the apartment to yourselves this morning,” Grace said slyly as she put two place settings and glasses of water in front of them.

“We’re celebrating,” Seth told her, and looked over at the bar. “Hey, Max, we need some champagne . . . What’ve you got?”

“Champagne?” Grace grabbed Destiny’s left arm. “Oh my gosh, let me see it!”

“See what?”

Grace, who had raised Destiny’s hand up close to look at it, frowned, and Destiny realized what she’d been thinking.

Don’t say it, Grace,
she begged silently.
Please don’t say it.

But her sister, who had never been known for her tact—much less her mind-reading skills—blurted, “You’re not engaged?”

“Engaged?” Destiny echoed as though she’d never heard such a ridiculous thing in her life. She didn’t dare glance at Seth. “Why would you think
that
?”

“You know . . . champagne.”

“People celebrate all kinds of things with champagne,” she retorted. “Not just getting engaged.”

“I know, but the way you two have been—”

“For Pete’s sake, Grace, we’ve only been going out a few months,” Destiny cut in. She could feel her cheeks flaming.

“Oh, please . . . you two have known each other forever,” Grace said dismissively. “So tell me—what’s the big celebration about?”

Talk about anticlimactic . . .

It was Seth who announced the news. “Grace, ‘Restless Heart’ was chosen as the new theme song for
Cowgirl Up
!”

“Shut up!” Grace squealed and hugged Destiny, pulling her off the stool. “Are you serious? Do you know what this
means
?”

“It means we need champagne!” Seth stood and walked over to the bar.

“Wow . . .” Grace breathed, looking emotional. “Wow! Destiny, this is going to give ‘Restless Heart’ a big push! Aren’t you excited?

“Are you kidding? Do you know how hard I’ve worked for this moment? And now everything is coming together so fast . . .”

“Mark my words.” Grace swiped at both corners of her eyes with her knuckles. “‘Restless Heart’ is going to shoot to the top of the charts. You just wait!”

“I’m tired of waiting. Bring it on!”

“There’s the Hart attitude! Cowgirl up!” she added with a wink.

“Cowgirl up!” Destiny swiped at her own eyes as well. “I was meant to do this, Grace . . . to sing, to write songs . . .”

“To bring joy to people,” Grace put in. “Music does that, you know.”

Destiny gave her a wobbly smile. “Ya think?”

“Are you going to tell Max?” Grace asked, glancing over at the bar.

Destiny nibbled on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “I’m dying to, but I’m worried . . .”

“He’d never say a word to anyone if you didn’t want him to.”

“No, I know—it’s not that.” More than anyone else, Max knew how long she’d been waiting for a break like this. “I guess I’m just afraid that if I tell anyone else, I’ll jinx myself and Nick Novell will wake up one morning and realize signing me was a mistake or something, and the whole thing will go up in smoke.”

“That’s so not going to happen, so get that nonsense out of your head. Listen, I know you must be feeling overwhelmed right now, but like you said, you were born to do this.”

Destiny closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I know, but . . . sometimes, I just wonder if I’ve been so focused on the future that I forgot to enjoy the present. Composing songs for the sheer joy of it when an idea would come to me . . . Creativity isn’t something that you can do on command or force and now that I’m published there’s pressure to create commercial hits. I don’t want that to interfere with the fluidity or beauty of the lyrics or what I have to say. Do you know what I mean?”

“Sure, you don’t want to compromise yourself.”

“Yes. And you know, as much as I complained about eating canned soup, those days were special too. I’m going to miss Nessie coming out here to listen to me sing while she would unwind after a long day. I’ll miss singing into broom handles with Max.” She pushed up and looked over at him, and Seth.

“It’s like the Trace Adkins song ‘You’re Gonna Miss This,’” Grace told her.

“Exactly.” Destiny smiled. “So you do get it? You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“I wouldn’t go that far . . .” Grace teased but then nodded. “I do get it.”

“Is it crazy to say I’m afraid I might miss this place, and writing songs on my fire escape, and . . .”

That was the real reason she was worried, she realized. It wasn’t about jinxing herself, or doubting her ability.

It was hard enough for them to find time for each other as it was. If her career took off the way Miranda had predicted, she was going to be busier than ever with interviews and photo shoots, making videos, performing, touring as the opening act for a big name . . .

What about Seth?

“Don’t worry,” Grace was saying. “Once you take off, I guarantee you’ll never look back.”

She opened her eyes and glanced over to see Seth surveying the row of champagne bottles Max had set out on the bar.

He looked up as if he felt her gaze, and smiled a bittersweet smile.

He’s happy for me—but he’s worried, too
, Destiny realized with a pang.

 

 

 

“I
think we’ll go for the Veuve Clicquot,” Seth told Max, and tapped the orange label.

He looked up at the bartender and saw that Max’s attention was zoned in on Destiny and Grace. Rather, on Grace, who was being chatted up by a tattooed musician type in black jeans and boots.

“Let me guess . . . Jesse Jansen?”

“You got it. You said you want the Veuve?”

“Yeah, but no rush on that.” Seth was in no hurry to meet Jesse, and he didn’t particularly want him to join in the toast.

Max nodded as if he got it, and began returning the other bottles to the fridge behind the bar, keeping one eye on Grace.

When the hotshot lead guitarist leaned in and said something in her ear, Seth heard Max mutter something under his breath and plunk a bottle down with more force than necessary.

It clinked against the others and Grace looked their way. Max quickly averted his gaze and concentrated on wiping down the bar.

Seth shook his head. “Come on, dude.”

“What?” Max asked defensively.

“That’s the same look I once gave you.”

“Huh?”

“When I was here with my baseball team, you were whispering in Destiny’s ear and I wanted to kick you into next week.” Seth tipped his head in Grace’s direction. “I know how you feel. Go after her or you’ll always regret it.”

Max tossed his towel over his shoulder and flicked another glance at Grace.

Jesse was playfully lifting a lock of blond hair from her shoulder, and Max’s jaw tightened. “Right. Jesse Jackass over there is a lead guitarist. I’m a bartender. How do you think that will work out for me?”

Seth angled his head. “Did you seriously just ask
me
that question?”

“Dude, whaddaya mean?” Max’s eyes widened at Seth’s deadpan look, and he immediately backpedaled. “Hey . . . no! Your situation is nothing like mine.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely!” Max insisted. “It was a lame thing for me to say, anyway.”

“Exactly, and it was a lame thing for you to think. Besides, I’ve heard you have some
skills
,” Seth added, but Max shrugged.

Following his gaze back along its familiar path, Seth was just in time to see Destiny shove Jesse’s wandering fingers from her own hair. She did it firmly, but with a laugh.

For a moment, watching the exchange, Seth was seized by pure doubt and insecurity.

“Hey, heed your own advice there, Coach,” Max advised.

“What?”

“You know something? You’re right. I grew up poor, but my father always reminded me that we all put our pants on one leg at a time.”

“You’re damned straight.” Seth tilted his head in Jesse’s direction. “Some pants are just tighter than others.”

That drew a chuckle from Max, and Seth joined in.

Hearing their laughter, Destiny looked over and met his gaze. Her smile was tired around the corners, but all for him. It did funny things to his insides and lifted his spirits.

“Listen, you’ve just gotta trust that everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to in the end,” Seth said, as much to Max as to himself.

“What?” Still watching Jesse, who’d gone back to flirting with Grace, Max accidentally knocked a champagne flute off the edge of the bar. “Ah . . . hellsfire!”

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Nothing I haven’t done a thousand times before,” Max muttered as blood welled up on the pad of his thumb. “I’ll live.”

As Max wrapped a white bar towel around the wound, Seth saw that Jesse had wandered away and Destiny and Grace were headed in this direction.

“Hey, I thought we were going to have some champagne,” Grace announced.

“We are,” Seth told her. “But . . .” He motioned with his head toward Max.

Grace’s eyes widened when she saw bright red seeping through the white towel. “Did you cut yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he assured her, but she hurried behind the bar anyway.

“You think you need some stitches?” Destiny asked in concern.

“Nah.”

“Are you sure, Max? Let me see!”

“Grace!” Destiny warned. “You’re not good with stuff like this.”

“Destiny, don’t be silly. I just want to make sure he’s okay.” One glance at the cut, and she turned white as a sheet.

“My stupid thumb is fine,” Max told her.

“You sure?” Grace managed in a barely there whisper. The sight of blood had always made her woozy. She couldn’t even look at a skinned knee.

“Yeah, I’m just a klutz. That’s—”

“Max!” Destiny warned, “She’s gonna go down!”

“What?” Max turned just in time to see Grace starting to sway, and grabbed her in his arms.

“Ohmigod, baby, are you okay?” he asked and cupped her cheek in his uninjured hand. “You need some water? A sip of brandy?”

“Maybe some water.” Grace’s lashes fluttered; then her eyes snapped open and she smiled. “Wait, did you just call me ‘baby’?”

“It just slipped out,” Max admitted and his face flushed a dusky shade of pink. “Sorry.”

“No . . . I thought it was sweet,” Grace assured him with a lazy smile. It was obvious she no longer needed to be held in his arms, but that didn’t seem to matter to either of them.

“Really?” Max’s eyes widened slightly. “I didn’t think you’d be . . . interested . . .” He trailed off and glanced away.

“Well, that’s what you get for thinking,” Grace teased, drawing Max’s attention right back.

Seth shook his head at Destiny and looked pointedly at the waiting bottle of champagne, but Max and Grace were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

“You okay to stand?”

“I believe so.” Grace nodded with obvious reluctance.

“Gracie?” Destiny interrupted and arched one eyebrow. “Can we open the champagne now, or are you still suffering from the vapors?”