Austin by morning, p.1
Austin by Morning, page 1
Austin By Morning
Alexa Padgett
Contents
Untitled
Dedication
1. Kate
2. Rye
3. Kate
4. Rye
5. Kate
6. Rye
About the Author
Also by Alexa Padgett
Untitled
Austin by Morning
An Austin After Dark Book Three
By Alexa Padgett
Title © 2019 Alexa Padgett
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All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
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Edited by Sarah Allan
Cover Design by Covers by Combs
Dedication
For Candace. For being such a dear friend.
1
Kate
I knocked my empty mug off my desk in my mad scramble through my papers, trying to find my ringing cell phone.
“Aha!” I called triumphantly. My burgeoning grin fell when I saw my brother Cam’s number.
I picked up the mug and answered, “Hello?”
The mug’s handle stayed on the ground. Dammit. It was my favorite—from a diner in Chicago—and I used it pretty much every day.
“I need your help, Katie Rose.”
I slammed my head into the edge of my thick, wooden desk. I breathed out a curse and got up more carefully.
“I’ve asked you not to call me that, Cam,” I said.
“Sorry. Old habits and all that.”
“I’m twenty-six years old. You need to let go of the image of me as an incompetent brat.”
“I never thought you were incompetent.” He didn’t say anything about the brat part. Right. I deserved that.
“Let’s start again. What do you need, Camden?”
“My guitar’s banged up. Can’t play it today.” Camden’s voice was sheepish, and I’d bet he hung his head. Not that he was typically a sheepish or head-hanging kind of guy. A country music superstar, Cam and his ego typically matched. But his wife Jenna made him that guitar, and he adored the instrument almost as much as he loved her.
Such shows of cuteness activated my gag reflex, but his love for Jenna was one of the reasons I hadn’t completely quit talking to him.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I didn’t do a damn thing.” His irritation crackled through the phone line. I sat up straight, tossing the pieces of my mug in the trash bin before I glared at my computer screen. I would have preferred to glare at Cam, but he was across town.
Convenient for him.
“Fine,” I said on a sigh. “What happened to your precious?”
“She’s standing right here next to me, looking as sparkly as her wedding and engagement rings.”
Yeah, my brother had it bad. I bit back a smile but didn’t try to stop my eye roll.
“Camden.”
“A roadie dropped my guitar. After he took it out of the case.”
I gasped. “He took it out?”
“Wanted a closer look at the design Jenna made in the metal.”
“Let me guess. He’s no longer your roadie.”
“He’s working a different stage now,” Cam replied, his voice dry.
One thing about my brother—he might be angry with the man responsible. No doubt he was livid, but he wouldn’t want the guy to lose his job. Yet another reason I couldn’t complete my justified anger of my dear big brother. He was kind. Noble. Good to Jenna.
The problem I struggled these past few months to get past was that Cam and his twin, Carter, went along with my mother to perpetuate the lie we were one big happy family.
The worst part in the situation wasn’t the fact I was the only spawn of the no-account asshole our mother married. No, the worst part was that my family—the people who claimed to love me—wouldn’t have told me the truth. Ever. If I hadn’t overheard Cam and Carter talking…
That stuck deep in my chest and ripped at my heart each time I remembered the twisted mouth and shadowed eyes my mama turned my way when I asked her about the lie she kept pushing.
I shoved that memory away, just as I shoved all thoughts of my mother away.
Cam, my big brother who’d gone and married my boss, wouldn’t let me take time to hide and lick my wounds. He said I’d work myself up into a fit of righteous anger.
Um… Exactly.
But Cam kept calling, kept dropping by and being sweet, which made staying angry with him difficult. Carter, Cam’s twin, I’d pretty much forgiven since he wasn’t even here most of the time my world imploded. Plus, he’d just gone through his own personal hell.
I had no such issue with my mama. We were not on speaking terms.
“I need you to bring me one of the other ones from the shop,” Cam said, breaking me out of my reverie.
“Any one in particular? We can showcase the narrow-bodied mahogany or the bell-shaped Brazilian rosewood.”
“Good. Yes, both of those. Jenna said there’s another one in the back she’s been working on.”
“You expect me to carry three guitars into South by Southwest by myself?” I scowled. “That’s over fifty thou in equipment, Camden. I’m capable of handling myself, but that seems excessive.”
“Right. Fine. Then bring the two you think would be best,” he said, his voice filled with exasperation. “C’mon, Katie Rose...er, Kate, sorry. I need a good guitar. I don’t want to borrow my opening act’s instrument. He’s already a nightmare to work with.”
He used the wheedling voice. The one I’d never been able to resist. Fine. I didn’t want to resist it or Cam. I loved my big brother, even if he had hurt me deeply, and I wanted him to have a successful performance.
I glanced down in mournful silence at the pile of paperwork still in need of attention.
“I’ll be there in an hour,” I said.
“Thanks, darling. Honestly, you’re the best.”
“Too right. Now, be sure to play something I like.”
“Right after all Jen’s favorites,” Cam promised.
Oh, she was good. Mainly because she hadn’t put any effort into making him so sweet—he did that all himself because he wanted her happy. Much as I loved their interactions, I felt a short, sharp stab in my chest—much too near my heart. No time to think like that now.
“Bye.” I hung up and stood. After a quick stretch, I pulled down my ruffle-fronted white silk blouse, re-tucking the front into my purple A-line skirt. I had great legs, and I liked to show those suckers off.
I slid my feet back into my black Manolo Blahniks—ninety percent off at last year’s Nordstrom Rack sale, thank you very much. After I carefully placed both guitars in their cases and double-checked their clasps, I went to the front and shut off some of the lighting. I flipped the sign to “closed” and ensured the door was indeed locked, which it always was. Jenna had some trouble with an old…well, not flame, more like jerk-wad from her past. Since then, we didn’t unlock the door until we knew who was on the other side.
After shutting down my computer, throwing my phone and charger into my purse, and digging out my keys, I, collected all my belongings and headed out to my car. I only had to run back in once—and then one more time to double-check I’d set the alarm and locked the rear door.
I looked back in longing one more time at the small, unassuming shop. My refuge, my baby these days. I’d much rather work.
With a sigh, I put the key in the ignition and wished for the patience to deal with this newest round of awkward.
I managed to get a decent parking spot, no doubt because today was the day before the festival began. I gripped the guitar case handles tight and let my gaze rove around the lot, hoping to see one of Cam’s security guys hustling toward me. Normally, thanks to my brothers’ overprotectiveness, I had my own security detail. Unlucky for me, Lou’s daughter and wife were both too sick to function without his help.
So, I’d managed to spend the day alone, which I’d enjoyed immensely until this moment when I had to carry two expensive guitars across a dark parking lot by myself.
I power-walked as fast as my stilettos permitted. Until I heard that voice.
I stopped at the very first note. His clear baritone licked over my skin and made me shake with a desperate need to hear—to feel—more of him.
I stood, trembling, shocked by my reaction.
My brother’s voice regularly reaped international acclaim. I should be used to such beauty. With a small shake of my head, I gripped the handles of the guitar cases and strode with purpose toward Cam’s trailer.
Until the unknown singer began the next verse. My chest tightened as he crooned the next few lyrics. Not straight-up country. It had more…soul, I guess, though I wasn’t sure that was the correc
I hurried forward. A face…that voice deserved a face that I hoped would be as sexy.
Almost in a trance, I barely acknowledged Chuck, my brother’s head of security, as I ran—hard to do in my stilettos—toward the stage.
“Katie Rose! You’re a life saver.”
Cam stepped into my path and I skittered to a halt, trying to ignore my hitched breath and my aching chest. Much as I wanted to shove the instruments at him, I couldn’t. They were worth too much money.
“Who’s singing?”
Cam’s face settled into a scowl. “My opening act.”
Jenna walked up behind him and slung an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“He’s a nice man, Cam.”
“Late. Demanding. Shouldn’t I get to be the demanding one since I’m the headliner?”
“Demanding doesn’t suit you. In this situation.” Jenna smiled and Cam softened, just as he always did. Jenna turned to me with a beaming smile. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s way out of your way.”
I shrugged. “I think I got the best of the ones we discussed. Where do you want them?” My body vibrated with the need to see the man singing, but I wouldn’t leave until these instruments were secured.
“I’ll use this one,” Cam said, picking up a case. Jenna grabbed the handle of the other one and they turned in unison back toward his trailer.
“Come on!” Jenna called. “Cam’s got great snacks.”
The singing stopped. I cursed my brother—quietly. In my head.
“Just a sec.” Now was my best opportunity. I peeked around the stage curtain and out at the man now scowling at his sound guy. At least I assumed he was the sound guy based on his headset and the conversation about too much bass coming through the speakers.
A musician I was not. But I sold Jenna’s amazing designs and brought her more acclaim with each passing month. The Instagram profile for J. Olsen’s proved my genius. People couldn’t get enough of a beautiful young woman creating mega-star’s instruments.
The singer brushed long blond hair back from his face. He had a beard—full but not too long, a couple of inches, accentuating his jaw. His mustache covered part of his upper lip, causing me to shiver with distaste, but his lower lip was plump and pink. His nose appeared straight, if a tad long. A nice face, strong and masculine. At least what I could see of it.
He brushed his hair back again, then in annoyance, he pulled a hair tie from the thick golden mane and shook it out. He turned toward me and started the process of pulling all the pieces back. Blue eyes. Of course. He looked like a Viking. Well, his beard was too short for a full-on How to Train Your Dragon kind of warrior, but he was tall, athletic, and very sexy.
I’d never dated a blond man. Never dated one with long hair, either. Never thought shoulder-length hair on a man would be attractive. I was wrong. So wrong.
I shifted, planning to follow Jenna and Cam. Or, better yet, escape to my car and forget my brother or this blond god, who was almost near enough to touch. Then he glanced up and his eyes latched onto mine.
I gasped, shocked at the physicality of that look.
His face smoothed out as he continued to stare at me—just my face. He didn’t drop his gaze to check out the rest of me, yet I still felt the heat from his ice-blue gaze steal over my skin.
“Thought we’d lost you, Kate,” Cam said.
I huffed out the air I’d unwittingly held and shook my head at my brother, who placed his hand between my shoulder blades and led me away from the stage.
Good timing on Cam’s part. If I stared at the singer much longer, I might have done something stupid—like run forward and fling myself at him. My cheeks flamed as my body cooled and logic returned.
Never had I wanted with such abandon. Sure, the man’s voice spoke to me. Sure, he was attractive. So were many of the men I met through my brother.
I couldn’t reconcile either of those with my deep-seated need.
And, if there was one thing I did not like, it was not being in control.
2
Rye
I scrubbed my hands over my cheeks and then over my bearded chin, willing my heart rate to return to normal.
All those auburn curls. A sassy pink mouth. That skirt flirting around her knees and just a hint of silky thighs. Holy hell. Lust slammed through me harder than a two-hundred-fifty-pound linebacker and knocked me as flat on my butt.
Camden Grace glanced back, a scowl surging across his face. Definite step-off vibe. Kate, he called her.
I wasn’t sure how she fit into Cam’s entourage, but he was protective of her. With me, the guy who showed up nearly an hour late and demanded to practice first. I understood Camden Grace’s dislike.
I deserved his enmity.
Just as I deserved all the bad press surrounding my life this past year-plus. I glanced down at my scuffed sneakers and winced. I’d barely managed to leave the little house I’d rented for the next month. What I put on seemed so far down the list of details. Until now. I wanted to impress her. Kate.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and trudged back to my stool. With a sigh, I picked up my guitar.
“You ready for this next go?”
The sound engineer nodded so I started playing the song I wrote five-and-a-half years ago. The one that took my life on such a different trajectory than I’d anticipated.
I sang the lyrics, still burning with Deirdre’s eventual dismissal.
You promised me forever, but that turned out too soon
I wish in our time together we could get a re-do
People always assumed I was singing about a fictional woman who died too young.
I wasn’t.
Sure. Before I wrote that song, Deirdre and I seemed to have everything going for us. We were in love, but life gobsmacked us, and Deirdre didn’t cope well.
Or cope at all.
No, she didn’t turn to booze or pills or any of that trite shit. No, my wife—correction, ex-wife as of last year—turned into a zombie from too little sleep and too much guilt. Which was why I needed to be smarter about this woman, Kate.
While I sang, I thought of how her long, burnished auburn ringlets might gleam in the stage lights, and how she rocked a prim dress shirt and flirty skirt better than any woman I’d ever seen. Even Deirdre. But that didn’t matter.
Didn’t matter that I was interested—didn’t matter she was the first woman I’d wanted in years. None of that could matter.
I had a job to do—and I needed this gig to go well. I needed this show to go well to smooth over my months-late last album that was just now hitting the airwaves. I needed this show—no matter how much I didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to be opening for a country music star. I needed it to keep my cover for spending the next month in Austin without raising too many eyebrows.
I needed this show to take the heat off my wallet and my son.
Not that this doctor we were here to see could fix the expanding hole in Ike’s vision, but that didn’t mean I’d give up trying—like Deirdre had.
Ike deserved more. He deserved every chance to see, to read the books he loved. And, yeah, while it was my dream, he deserved to play catch with me.
We’d never had that. Not when he struggled to focus around the growing black hole right smack dab in the center of his world.
Better to put the pretty Kate from my head. No one wanted to get involved with a man who had a special needs kid.
I’d learned that when my wife—ex-wife—walked out on us all those months ago.
I finished my last song and looked over at the tech. He gave me the thumbs up, so I hopped off the stool, already glancing at my watch.
Two hours and fifty-three minutes. If I hurried, I might be able to read Ike a story and kiss him goodnight. My favorite part of the day. Well, after the big hugs I received each day along with a yawned “good morning”.
