Page 7 of Lonesome Moon

The bartender came over to ask what I wanted. I ordered a white wine.

“Sit with us?” Beck asked, scooting over one bar stool so I had to take the one between him and Grant.

Not wanting to be rude, I took the empty seat and accepted the glass of wine with a grateful nod in the bartender’s direction.

I glanced at Grant, who was gazing into his beer. He’d already congratulated me at the table, as I’d been seated right next to him during supper. Fortunately, it hadn’t been awkward, even after the conversation in the car. Still, I felt unsettled. As much as I wished it to be different, I was drawn to Grant in a way I’d never experienced before. He was attractive. No denying that. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a sculpted frame of pure muscle. It was not a surprise that women tossed their panties at the sexy drummer. That said, it wasn’t just that he was in terrific shape. There was an unexpected gentleness about him. A softness in his jade green eyes that hinted at the sensitive soul beneath the rugged exterior. On stage, he often wore a backwards baseball cap, but tonight his wavy sun-kissed dark blond hair had been neatly combed into submission.

We’d had so much fun that Thanksgiving weekend three years ago. Jack had warned me that Grant wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but I’d found it to be the opposite. The two of us couldn’t stop talking. I guess I’d hoped it would be the same between us here but, from his reaction earlier, there was to be no more two a.m. discussions about Christmas movies or anything else. I felt silly, thinking about the DVDs I’d packed, hoping he’d want to watch them with me. I’d even fantasized about the two of us curled up in one of our cabins, eating popcorn and watching them in order.

Now, I asked Beck and Grant questions about the tour they’d just wrapped up. The album Jack had put out at the beginning of the year had done well, as had the dozen city concert tour. To make the year even better, Ivy and Jack’s duet had skyrocketed to the top of the charts and stayed there.

“We had a good run,” Beck said. “And Luci, you won’t believe it—my mother came to our show when we were in Atlanta.”

Beck’s parents had been angry when he’d chosen to pursue country music after he’d finished a piano degree at Juilliard. They’d been somewhat estranged ever since.

“How was that for you?” I asked, before taking a sip of wine, hyper aware of Grant’s bulk next to me.

Beck, in contrast, was a long distance runner, slim and fit, but without the girth of my favorite drummer.

“It was … difficult,” Beck said. “She tried to be nice, but it’s hard for her. I took her to dinner the next night and inevitably we went back to the same place—arguing about my career choices.”

“Your dad didn’t come with her?” I asked.

“No. I think he said something about hell freezing over,” Beck said, with a sad chuckle.

“We have that in common,” Grant said.

“I’m sorry, guys,” I said. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“I think they do,” Beck said.

“Yep,” Grant said, nodding.

“How’s your mother doing?” Beck asked me.

“She’s well. The church keeps her busy organizing rummage sales and the like. She loves her new community. Now that she doesn’t work, she volunteers for a thousand committees.”

Ivy came up to the bar to order a drink. I’d not spent much time with her since she and my brother’s whirlwind courtship, but I wasn’t worried about their decision to marry so quickly. Seeing how happy Jack was with her, I knew it was right. Selfishly, I felt a little jealous. Jack had always been such a good big brother, and now I had to share him with a wife.

“Luci, I’ve been dying to chat with you alone,” Ivy said. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yes, of course.” I glanced at Grant, who was continuing his deep study of the contents of his pint.

“I’ll bring her back, I promise,” Ivy said to the guys.

“No problem,” Beck said. “We have all month.”

Ivy took my hand and led me over to a booth. Soon, we were settled opposite each other with our wine.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you were able to get the month off to join us,” Ivy said warmly, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “It means the world to Jack too.”

“I’m afraid I’ll never want to go back.” It was the truth. I worked so much and so hard that any time off made me worry I’d never return.

“You and me both,” Ivy said. “We’re alike that way, you know. Worker bees.”

Only your job made you rich, and I’m more broke than ever.

I immediately felt guilty over my selfish thoughts, especially given how generous Ivy and Madeleine had been to the clinic.