Chapter Thirteen

“You ready to give up on that garden yet?”

Blaise didn’t turn at the sound of Colton’s voice. He rolled up the hose and brushed the dirt from his brace.

Colton handed him a tall glass of iced tea. “Figured you be sweating your ass off out here playing in the dirt.”

“I like the garden. It reminds me of Dad, but I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I think I drowned the tomatoes.” Blaise held up his glass. “Thanks. The day is warming up fast. Are you headed down to the lake while you’re here?”

The fishing was best at night this time of year. The water would be cool, and the wildflowers were in bloom. When they were kids, their mother would pack a picnic lunch and they’d spend the day there. He and his siblings would swim out to the center and hang on the dock, letting the sun cook their skin like bacon. Colton would hold diving contests to see which Savage kid could do the best dive. He’d play and play until he was certain he had won. And sometimes, when Savannah could be convinced, they’d sing rhythm-and-blues songs as loudly as they could. He would drum on the wood, and Colton would make guitar noises with his mouth.

“Nah. No time to drag out the poles. I’m going back tonight. I’ve had enough of the old homestead for a while.”

Colton never hung around long. It’s why he never married. Marriage required too much commitment. Hell, a relationship lasting more than twenty-four hours was too much for Colton.

Looked like it would be now or never. “I want you to hear what I wrote before you go.”

“Not this again. Christ, how many times do I have to say it?”

“Listen to what I have. You’re going to like it.” Blaise turned for the house and hoped Colton would follow. He didn’t understand why his brother was being so stubborn about the whole music thing. What was he afraid of?

“Did you sell your car?”

That stopped him in his tracks. “What?”

“Have you sold your Porsche yet?” Colton flopped into the Adirondack chair and stared over the top of his glass.

“What does that have to do with what we’re talking about?”

“Everything. You need the money.”

Blaise wiped his face with his hand. He didn’t want to talk about his money, or the lack of it. He’d trusted the wrong person, and now he was almost wiped out. He woke up one morning to find out his investments were gone. As if they’d never existed. He had some cash in a few checking accounts and his cars. He was trying to sell the Porsche. He hadn’t told Colton about selling the place in Nashville.

“Don’t worry about the car. I’ve got it under control.”

“You’ll make more money when we tour. If we sell out, we’re set to make big bucks this time. We could all use it. Especially Patrick.”

Patrick had been in and out of rehab more times than Blaise could remember. Patrick was like a brother to him, but he carried too much baggage and trouble. Blaise was getting too old for Patrick’s bullshit. Finding someone to play behind Colton wouldn’t be too hard.

“Cash got a job working with Beau on the house next door, and he has his community service at the library. Savannah pulled strings for that to happen. He’s staying put, and so am I.”

“He’s going to be working for your pretty neighbor?” Colton tried to see over the fence. “That fence isn’t ours, is it?”

“No, it’s not mine.” He emphasized mine. “The fence is hers. It should be torn down.”

“You know, I could stick around and help her too. Maybe get another look at those legs.”

“She’s not your type. She’s too uptight. Five minutes and you’ll be gone.”

“I don’t know. I’ve been known to melt a few hearts. Besides, I had her laughing pretty loudly the other night.” Colton wagged his eyebrows.

“Forget it.” He never cared about the women Colton went after. His attitude was they were grown-ups and responsible for themselves, but there was something about Grace that didn’t feel right with his brother. He loved his brother and knew he would never hurt a woman on purpose, but he did have the commitment thing. The only thing Colton was attached to was the band. Everything else came second. Grace didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who would want to come second to anything.

“Are you saying I can’t date her?”

“I’m saying she won’t want to have anything to do with you.”

“We’ll see about that. More importantly, the band needs you, bro. I need you.” Colton was never going to quit.

“So wait until after September when Cash goes back to California.”

“Can’t do it. The dates are being worked on as we speak. We can’t cancel again. People will stop showing up.”

“You shouldn’t have agreed to any new dates without talking to me first. Before Cash even got here, there was still the problem with my hand.”

Colton unfolded himself from the chair and set his iced tea down. “We can’t wait for your hand to heal. This was supposed to be the summer tour for us. We can’t reschedule all the meet and greets. We have to give that money back.”

“So give it back.”

“Are you nuts? I’m hoping we can give those people a signed photo or something like that, cancel the meets, and keep the money. I’m not returning that money because you’re the ass that fell off the scaffolding.”

“You dared me.”

“What are you? Twelve? You don’t have to listen to me.”

The same words Grace used. They felt cold inside his head, like the iced tea in his good hand. When would he stop behaving like Colton’s younger brother instead of a grown-up?

Colton kept talking, unaware of the look on Blaise’s face. “We all shouldn’t suffer. We hit the road when the dates are ready. That’s it, man. Either with you or without you.”

Blaise cleared the distance between them. They stood nose to nose. “Don’t threaten me. I will kick the shit out of you with one hand. This is my band too. It’s my name as much as yours, and it won’t take much for me to convince Patrick and Troy to take my side.”

Colton backed up. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I came to see my nephew, which I did, and I wanted you to know where I stand. And Patrick and Troy are with me. I told you Patrick needs the money, and Troy doesn’t have the guts to stand up to me. He’s just happy he has a gig. He’s getting so old his voice is shot. No one wants him, and he knows it.”

The anger seeped out of him. At one of the last shows, Troy couldn’t hit the notes. Right on the mic, he’d asked the rest of the band to help him. “If we write some new music, the fans, they’ll come back.” Blaise turned back toward the house. “Come inside and listen to my stuff. If the whiskey didn’t drown all your brain cells, you’ll see it’s good.”

A horn honked from the street.

“Uncle Colton, your car is here.” Cash came through the back door, holding Colton’s bag.

“Send me a disc. I’ll listen to it. But I’m not making any promises. And tell Grace I’ll be seeing her soon.”