Hold Me

“You’ll always have that.”

They walked toward the front door of the building.

“The Man Cave is opening soon,” he said. “It’s this bar I own with a few business partners.”

“I’ve heard some people talking about it,” she admitted. “You must be excited.”

“I am. Come to the opening with me. We’re going to have a killer karaoke setup. You could sing.”

“I don’t sing,” she told him firmly.

“Ever?”

“Not in public.”

“But it has to be in your blood.”

“There are a lot of things in my blood. I deny most of them. It makes life easier.”

“Who said easy was the right path?” he asked. “I’d like to hear you sing.”

“It’s never going to happen.” She narrowed her gaze. “I don’t need fixing.”

“I didn’t say you did.”

“Shelby warned me, and she was right. Let me repeat myself. No fixing required. I’m perfectly fine. I have everything under control. I prefer life without surprises.”

Kipling studied her for a second then leaned in. She had no idea what he was going to do so wasn’t the least bit prepared for the feel of his mouth brushing against hers.

The contact was brief, soft and rocked her down to her tiniest toes. She went hot then cold. Her chest got tight, and somewhere deep inside, a dark, lonely place she rarely acknowledged, warmed up at least three degrees.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded when he’d straightened.

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Two reasons. First, because I wanted to. And second, everyone needs a good surprise now and then.”

She struggled to speak, but there were no words. She could only stare as he gave her a wink then turned and walked away.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_a3363b2a-4cd9-5daa-9d8b-31ceb27f595a)

DESTINY GENTLY STRUMMED her guitar. The music was elusive tonight. Taunting her with melodies attached to half phrases. But when she tried to capture the notes or even the words, they faded away.

You could be my best regret. I could be your peace of mind.

She made a few more notes then put down her guitar and flopped back on her bed. She immediately sat up and began playing the hillbilly music Grandma Nell had loved. Mostly the songs didn’t appeal to her, but they were a connection. Many a winter’s night, she and Grandma Nell had played and sung by firelight as the snow fell outside. There had been an old piano in the front room. A man came by every spring and tuned it. The rest of the year, they made do.

Now she sang about the mountain and God and life until she started to relax. Unfortunately, the second she did, she remembered Kipling’s kiss and tensed up all over again.

Stupid man, she thought as she put down her guitar again. Stupid, stupid kiss. Why had he done that? And then to walk away. Who did that?

She told herself it didn’t matter. So he’d kissed her. It wasn’t as if she’d asked. And while she got a little thrill every time she thought about his mouth on hers, it wasn’t as if she was letting her hormones run away with her. She was perfectly in control, as always.

In fact, it was probably good Kipling had kissed her. As she’d recently realized, if she wanted to find the man of her somewhat quiet dreams, she was going to need a little more experience. While she doubted he would be the type who wanted to be seduced, she should at least be able to hold her own. So more kissing was a good thing. As long as she didn’t let herself get carried away.

It was all so ridiculous, she thought as she stretched out on the bed. The whole boy-girl-sex thing. Why did people give in so easily? Why did they let themselves get swept away? People let their bodies take over, and then they made bad decisions. Which would be fine if those decisions didn’t have consequences for other people. But they usually did. Like when Dad and Mom broke up and forgot about their children. Like Jimmy Don with Starr.

Destiny glanced at the small clock on her nightstand. It was nearly ten. She stood and walked into the hallway, then knocked on Starr’s closed door.

“Hey, I just wanted to say good-night.”

There was an odd sound, then Starr said, “You can come in.”

Destiny opened the door. Her sister sat at the small desk in her room. Her tablet was on a stand.

“Emailing friends?” Destiny asked.

“Watching a movie.” Starr half turned toward her, her long hair hanging over her face. “I heard you playing.”

Destiny winced. She’d been so upset, she’d forgotten to go into the garage. Or wait until Starr was asleep.

Destiny walked over to the bed and sat down. “Yes, you did.”

“So you can play. You lied.”

“I know. I apologize.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t like playing. Sometimes I can’t help doing it, but mostly I ignore it. Music isn’t my thing.”

“What if it’s my thing?” Starr brushed her hair back and glared.

Destiny saw what looked like tears on her sister’s cheeks. “Are you okay?”

Starr brushed at her face. “I’m fine. You didn’t answer the question.”

Destiny thought about life with her parents. How every moment had been dominated by music. It had always been playing in the background. There had been jam sessions in the living room. Even putting the dishes away had turned into a music extravaganza with flatware as percussion and water-filled glasses playing the melody. She thought of the laughter and later the tears. The sense of being abandoned over and over again. Of being a pawn.

“It’s complicated,” she began.

“No, it’s not. I want to play better, and you won’t teach me. We’re sisters. You’re supposed to care about me.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t. Music is the most important part of my life, and you’re keeping me from it.”

“I’m sorry. Sorry that I lied and sorry you’re hurt now.” She paused, knowing what she had to say and not wanting to say it. No. It wasn’t the words she regretted, it was the actions that would follow.

“I can teach you to play,” she said softly. “Guitar and piano. I have a keyboard in my room.”