Sweet Melody (Rock & Rodeo Romance #1) (15 page)

I
drive slower
than EJ’s grandma, but I want to be ready in case the headlights in my rearview mirror turn down another street. I’m done being scared of her running. If she goes, then I’m fucking going with her until she stops.

Pulling up to my place, she parks next to me. The breath I didn’t know I was holding hisses out. She follows me up to the door. We don’t speak as she steps into my house. Lights come on with a few flips of the switches. She walks a little ways in and stops in a spot right in view of the couch. Shit, that’s probably where she watched the disaster of my ex with me.

She turns to look down the hall that heads to the bedrooms and blows out a breath. Her hand settles on her hip as she contemplates something.

“Do you want something to eat?”

She smirks at me over her shoulder. “Are you kidding? Where in the hell would I put it? Make no mistake, Nana can cook.”

The lightness of that last sentence eases some of my discomfort. But her joke doesn’t cover up her own unease.

“Do you want to sit outside? All we’ve got are a couple of folding chairs.”

Whatever load she carries drops from her shoulders. “Yes, please.”

I open the sliding door and turn on the light. Bugs appear out of nowhere and buzz around it.

“Be right back.”

I grab a couple of the candles from where I stashed them, a couple of cold beers from the fridge, and head outside, placing them on the rusty table. It takes two more trips back inside for a lighter and a bottle opener before I can settle down.

The humidity in the air sticks to us, but a cooler breeze makes the warm night bearable. The old chairs creak underneath us every time we shift to take a swig of beer. I want to seem casual in front of her, but her revelation before she got in the car and the doubt I have about whether or not she’ll stick around puts me on edge.

“You drive like a little old lady. People could walk faster than your car tonight.” She huffs out a laugh and drinks her beer.

“Guess I wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost behind me.”

“You wanted to make sure I didn’t drive away from you.” She takes another swallow. “I get that. I haven’t exactly given you a lot of reasons to trust that I’m staying here with you.”

For now? For tonight? For the rest of my time here? Forever? Which is it, woman? Damn, she’s still got me twisted.

She lifts the bottle to her lips and smiles. “EJ’s grandmother. She’s awesome.”

I nod. “She is. She’s been taking care of us for as long as I can remember. Beyond my parents and immediate family, she’s probably the next closest thing.”

Mel takes a couple of swallows of her beer and sets it down. “She’s a wise woman. And a wise ass. Not hard to see where EJ gets his attitude from. And Eugene. That is one hell of a name.”

My genuine laugh eases me. “Yeah, he’s always taken shit for it. But no one calls him that for long without him interfering with his fists or one of his nasty pranks.”

“Pranks?”

I dive into a story about the first trick he pulled on me when he painted and decorated a pile of dog shit, put it in a bowl, and served it to me like vanilla ice cream. Luckily, I’d smelled it before taking a bite. But it had been really close.

“The asshole had gone so far as to pour chocolate syrup over it, spray some whip cream, and put sprinkles on top. The perfect sundae.” We both laugh hard.

“What would have happened if you had eaten some?”

“I have no idea. I don’t even want to think about it. To this day, I can’t eat ice cream. That fucker. But I decided then and there that I would rather have him as a close friend than an enemy.”

“So the pranks stopped once you two became close?”

I look out into the darkened backyard. “Hell no. But he saves his more evil plans for those he dislikes.”

As I walk into the house to get two more beers, she yells out, “Should I check the toilet seat for plastic wrap?”

“He likes you,” I reply from the kitchen. I walk back out and hand her a beer. “I don’t think he’ll mess with you.”

“Still. It’s a good warning. Maybe I should strike against him first. He did place a bet on me tonight.”

What in the hell would happen if Mel and EJ ended up in a prank war? Dear lord, the casualties.

“He wasn’t serious. And Nana will set him straight.”

Her eyes soften at the mention of EJ’s grandma. She likes her, and I’m pretty sure the feeling’s mutual. I know the old woman said something to Mel that affected her, but Nana wouldn’t hurt her or anyone on purpose. However, she does like to tell it like it is.

Mel places her hand on her chest and rubs a spot on the left side. “I don’t know if you heard us talking, but Ms. Eugenia told me I need to pay attention more to my heart than my head.”

My chest clenches, and I have to swallow the questions forming in my throat. Better to let her tell me in her own way.

She takes a deep breath and blows it out, shifting in her chair so she faces my direction. Her eyes look out at the night sky through the trees. “I know I freaked you out with what I said about me being the problem. I don’t blame you for not trusting that I would follow you here.”

“I trust you.” At least, I want those words to be true.

She looks at me for a second. “No, you don’t. And that’s okay. I haven’t given you any reason to think I won’t end things. Because I have too much doubt inside me to think anything else.”

“Mel, I swear if you’ll give me a chance—”

She holds up her hand to interrupt. “No, this isn’t about you. It’s about me. And my past.”

She sets the bottle down on the metal table and leans forward. Her hands cradle her head as she rubs her temples. My fingers itch to stroke her back or do anything to make things better. But I wait.

“I think you know most of what I’m going to tell you first. But it needs to be said out loud and not assumed or misinterpreted. Hunter, I’ve wanted you since before that night. I really have been a fan of Tailgate Down since you all auditioned for Trey. I’ve been to some of your shows all around the area.”

Shit. She really is a super fan if she attended some of our earliest gigs. Her earnest confession strokes my ego and causes my chest to swell.

“You know I’m not really a country girl. It’s not my style. But you guys are more than just country. You rock. And your songs get me pumped. Those lyrics…I don’t know how you put the words together, but they’re always full of meaning that I think most people miss.”

She stops talking and drains her beer. She shakes her head no when I offer to get another.

“That day during prep when you met me? I asked to serve on that side just so I could find a way to talk to you.” She laughs at herself. “I planned on seducing you that night, even if I had to fight some bitches.”

Fuck me, I want to drag her into my lap and have my way with her right now. She can’t say shit like that and not expect it to turn me on. “It wouldn’t have been hard. I wanted you the second I saw you. And after witnessing you singing? It was a foregone conclusion.”

She looks at me, and we share a burning gaze with each other. She breaks the stare and plays with her hair, pulling it off her neck busying herself with fixing it into a messy bun.

“But somehow, we ended up with more that night than I wanted. And you kept me coming back to you again and again despite my instincts. When we’re together, things fall into place. Especially when we’re really together.” She wiggles her brows at me. “But I can’t help the way I’m built. I think I’m always going to doubt that what we have can last. That instead of happy ever after, I’m going to get crushed.”

My heart sinks. How can she think I would hurt her? Sure, it’s been fast falling for each other, but that doesn’t diminish what’s building between us.

She reaches her hand across the rickety table for mine. I take it with so much gratitude for her initiation of comfort for me. She strokes my hand with her thumb. Shit, a display like that from her must mean something spectacularly bad’s coming up.

“Hunter, I’m jealous.”

My mouth opens. I close it fast, but it doesn’t change how shocked I am. She can’t be thinking about my bitch ex.

“Ever since your concert, I see how surrounded you are by family of all sorts. You’ve got the boys. You all clearly care for each other even more than you love working and playing with each other. Then you’ve got your parents and family that were there. The pride on their faces when you play is…stunning. And a little unbearable for me.

“See, I will never have an ounce of that. My upbringing didn’t include people like your mom and dad or EJ’s grandmother. My father left us when I was just a baby. I think it killed the part in my mother that cared for others. I mean, I wasn’t exactly neglected in terms of living conditions. I always had clothes and food. A house to live in. She made a decent living as a librarian. But she didn’t love me.”

Mel lets my hand go as she wipes away a tear. Her face tightens, frustration matching her heartache. She doesn’t want to cry in front of me, but how can she not? My fists tighten at the thought that anybody in this world wouldn’t give her what was her birthright or what would come natural between a mother and her child.

“I grew up with this distance between me and her. I thought that’s how people lived. When one of my first teachers hugged me, I froze. I was shocked to be touched in that way. And then surprised and hurt at how much I wanted more. Craved that kind of touch. I remember going up to my mother and hugging her around her waist. She stiffened in my embrace, pushed me off of her, and told me to go outside. She preferred when I wasn’t around. Guess I reminded her of the man who hurt her or whatever.

“I had no one to help me see that the rest of the world didn’t exist like me. It took one pushy little girl with wild blonde hair to force her way into my life. As short as she is now, she was a tiny little thing back in the day. But everyone underestimates her. She’s strong as hell.”

Who is Mel kidding? She loves, and she loves fiercely. The bond between her and Bethany is so strong that I’m almost a little jealous of it myself.

“Guess it took two fucked up kids to find and fix each other. Bethany has her own story, but I know it now that we were meant to be together. She turned my world upside down and filled it with color.”

That’s everything I want to do for her. If she’d only let me in, I’d make sure her world was multicolored, multidimensional, and filled with so much love that she’d have no choice but to let the doubt go.

“I know it’s a terrible thing to say out loud, but I truly hate my mother. I hate that she used me as her emotional punching bag. Abuse doesn’t have to come in the form of physical bruises. Some injuries are internal and last too fucking long. I hate that she makes me doubt anyone that cares for me. It’s not my own voice I hear when I want to run. It’s hers telling me that love is for idiots, and it makes us weak. To stand on my own without needing anybody.”

Tears stream down her face. She wipes them away with the back of her hands, and continues. “And I fucking listened to her. Besides Bee, nobody else gets in. I’ve been doing fine on my own. Or at least I thought I was. Until you.”

She gets up from her chair, walks over to me, and sits in my lap. My arms encircle her as I pull her close. Even as I kiss her head and rub her back, her body still doesn’t settle.

She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes wide with irritation. “See. I can’t even relax. I fucking hate that woman!” She yells into the night air. A dog barks in response.

Her hands cradle my face. “You’ve made me think that maybe more is possible. That she’s fucking wrong. That being with you won’t destroy me. I’m so tired of feeling like this, pushing people away. Because it makes me exactly like her.”

Her body shakes as she breaks down. She sobs into my shoulder, and I hold her to me. Rubbing slow circles on her back, I kiss her head, and tell her that she’s okay. That I won’t let her go. And none of it may make any difference. I can’t chase away her past, and I sure as hell can’t force her to change now. The only thing I can do is to be here for her either way.

Her confessions turn on the light bulb for me. No wonder she’s been skittish. Not only does she have natural issues allowing people to care for her but also my impending move in less than a week must be scaring the shit out of her. I’m leaving her behind, like her father did. And how can I give her any reassurance if I’m several states away?

Her sobs slow down until she heaves with deep breaths. I tell her to wipe her tears on my shirt. When she refuses, I whip it off and hand it to her. She cleans off her smudged face, and places the shirt on the table.

Her hand rests on my chest until it drifts down a slow path. My cock stirs in my jeans, although I don’t want her to think that how much she turns me on is the reason I want her here or in my life. My dick can take a backseat tonight.

Her fingers brush over the crevices of my muscles that twitch under her touch. My ego loves how my body affects her, but damn her fingers trail fire. I want to stay present so I can comfort her, not clouded with lust. But if she keeps touching me this way I’m going to lose it.

“Mel.” Calling her name is a warning.

“Shhhh.” She places her finger over my lips. “I love touching you. I love it when you touch me. I’m done talking. And I’m not going anywhere else tonight. I want to stay here. With you.”

She leans in and places her soft lips on mine. She skims over my mouth, planting light kisses on me. My resolve weakens. My hands move to her ass, grabbing her and yanking her harder against my throbbing erection.

“Hunter,” she sighs against my lips. “Take me to bed and let me show you how I feel about you.”

A beer bottle shatters on the ground as I move fast as lightning with her in my arms. When we make it to the bedroom, I pray to every deity to make tonight last as long as possible.