When I Look at You

©2011 Eve Asbury. The right of Eve Asbury to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. First E-book Edition 2011 First Edition 2011 All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental

*Any songs/lyrics mentioned in this novel, with the exception of those composed by the author/character, are copyrighted by the performing artists/writers/record labels, and so on: (This one is for the readers. Thank you: for the loyalty and inspiration, the encouragement through the years—and for taking these characters/books into your heart. Thank you, for purchasing any Eve Asbury book, and for taking the time to let me know when you enjoyed them. Much gratitude and the best of everything, to you.)

When I Look at You Bring on the Rain Book 3 Eve Asbury

Chapter 1 Copper Creek TN “Jason, are you up? Jason!” Jason Coburn roused himself from sleep and fumbled for his phone on a table beside the bed. Pushing the flashing button, he shoved a hand through his mussed black hair and grumbled, “Yeah, Dad. I am now.” His dad Mitch’s drawl, as deep as his own, sounded across the line. In fact, they lived down the road from each other and he knew if he hadn’t answered, Mitch would come over… “Did you forget you were supposed to pick up Brook’s friend and her sister this morning?” “Yeah—Shit.” Jason peered at the clock across from the bed. The big numbers were clear in the sleek black unit. “What time was—?” “Around nine. That gives you half hour to do what you have to.” “K- Dad, I’m on it.” As Jason was pushing the covers away, sitting up and digging his fingers into his sleepy eyes, his dad asked, “You work late at the clinic?” “Yeah. I wanted to finish the wiring so the dry-wall crew could come in. Brook and Renee are on a deadline, and with all that’s gone on.” “Yeah.” Jason could feel the heavy sigh in his father’s voice, and the worry the past four-month’s difficulties had left them all thin. It had been hellish, a real test for the whole family, and their friends. Mitch offered, “I’ll go by and check on the crews when I do the meeting at the bank.” “How’s that going?” Jason walked in his briefs to the connecting bath, and turned the duel rain showerheads open. The bathroom was silver and black. Although his house was glass and timber, it had a very nice mix of organic and modern. Most of the house, excluding the open area with an indoor pool, was comfortable and built for his big family and various friends to relax in—great room with wide screen TV, leather sectional, three guest rooms a modest kitchen, and all around

deck, as it was perched high on the east side of the hills. Pines surrounded it, a patio under the deck, and everything under a long side shed, from motorcycles to four wheelers, bikes, tractors… boats and water skis they used at Copper Creek Lake. The part of his life, his music, playing in bands and with his family, his Dad and the younger Coburn’s—was featured in the bonus room, a place where he could practice and jam, with a boss sound system to listen to music, and mixers and recording devices. Mitch replied, “Just how I expected. The company has to fold.” “I’m sorry, Dad” His Dad worked hard to build his construction company, and half the family worked for him. Jason, as an electrician Forman, did some contracts, but was, for the most part, independent. Besides, Jason had wealth from his mother, though he had worked too after school and most his life, to build his own house and avoid touching that money from his mom. It had strings attached and Rhonda never let him forget it. Mitch was saying, “I sank everything into The Mill, you know. I don’t regret that. It was a gamble. The Mill is doing well, and we’re booked up for the summer. Aside from the shows we’ll do.” He spoke of the outdoor theater they had built where indeed the Old Mill used to be. It opened last summer, with all of them working on it, Jason doing the lighting and everything. It would pay off in time, but many of the first shows were free, to drum up interest and promote the venue. “I wish you’d let me help. You’re always there for everyone and you never—” “Hey. I’ll be fine. House is paid for. I would never mortgage the land your grandpa left me. So, we’re good. I’m not worried. You know me, son. I always have a back up plan.” Rubbing the back of his neck, a habit his dad also had, Jason leaned against the tile wall a moment. He knew how strong his dad was, and how much pride a Coburn was born with. As the oldest of his side, Mitch was the official family (elder.) He took that role seriously, and he pulled everyone together when there was a need. He shot straight with those who crossed the line between normal Coburn hard playing and partying, the young mostly, and he believed in second chances for anyone who screwed up. but he was an example to them all, a lover, a husband, a hard working

man, spiritual and yet full of life, determined to honor family, their blood and roots. Although, the Coburn’s had as many (cornbread brothers and sisters) as they did blood around. People who felt like family. Everyone had his or her wild time, their mistakes, and their bitterness. They were a normally dysfunctional bunch, given that they lived life fully and experienced good and bad. However, those like his dad, like GW and Alvin, the big and burly cousins; they were the rocks, the backbone… Jason knew better than to make Mitch uncomfortable about it. His Dad came from a long line of strong and hard working people, and Jason had to believe he really would ask if he needed anything. The family planted and harvested, so even the worst off never went hungry, and they often shared potluck. They pulled together and they pooled talents when a car broke down, someone’s wife left, a death, and a birth, whatever. Mitch probably did have a savings and a back up, but Jason knew what pride he took in Coburn construction. It was a company his grandpa dreamed of when big timbering outfits tried to buy him out…. “All right, Dad. I got to get going.” “Drive careful. Brook said to tell Briane that we would find her something to drive. I think her sister’s name is Kiera… she’s got her daughter with her…” “Yeah. I was paying attention.” Jason laughed, wondering why he volunteered to do the taxi and welcome service for Brook’s friends from Ireland. He must have been too tired to refuse. “Uncle Jude’s got something worked out, I think. I’ll call you later.” Mitch hung up, and Jason stripped out of his thigh briefs. His nude and honed frame was tall and perpetually tanned like most of the Coburn’s. They were outdoors as much as in, so it never had time to fade. Stepping in the shower, he went through the motions of washing his thick black hair and scrubbing his body, figuring he would have to do a quick shave since his stubble was a little thick. While he scrubbed muscle, mounds, and sinew, he wondered if he could swing by Starbucks on his way. He didn’t have time to brew coffee. He let himself take a rare moment to absorb what had gone down since a nearly perfect summer. It had been a good one,

considering Brook and Coy had gotten back together and had their wedding on Copper Creek lake during the 4th of July celebration. Now they had a two month old daughter—Maddy. Max, his half brother from his Dad and step Mom Madeline, had wed a great chic, with a daughter named Leah they had part time custody of. Jordan was rocking the charts now—a slide guitar player, with a whiskey voice, tattoos and—sometimes green or silver hair. They had a new baby, a girl too, Gi Gi, born a month before Brook and Coy’s. Yeah, lots to celebrate, plenty of babies to welcome to the already huge Coburn clan, what with Donna, a cousin, ready to drop a boy, and two other girl cousins on their third or fourth…. Yet all the good stuff seemed to shatter. Things were happening, life was, good and bad, and as Coburn’s do, they circled the wagons, took care of business and did not waste time wringing their hands—although there had been worry, tears, moments when things were bleak. Coburn’s had faith, but they also had a strong sense of family, and their friends were like that too. They got through, knowing somewhere down the road, they would be together celebrating, happy again, being their usual wild and rowdy selves… Not lately though. Shutting off the shower, Jason dried and tied the towel on his hips. He brushed his teeth, gargled, shaved and combed his hair. In his bedroom, he opened the black doors built into the wall that had frosted silver birds etched in them. He pulled out a soft blue chambray shirt and hip jeans. He got a pair of black thigh-length briefs out of a drawer. Sitting, after he dressed, he pulled on socks and boots. He fit the cuff over the neck of the boots and stood, glancing briefly in the mirror as he gathered his keys, change, wallet, and next collected his cell. He saw a man, tall, broad shouldered, tight muscled from work and play alike, with ink-black hair, slightly wavy and having very light blue, thick-lashed eyes. A rugged face, cleft in his chin, Looks that got him girls and groupies, since he was old enough to care. He looked a little like his Dad, though Mitch’s hair turned silver early, and a bit like his half brother, Max. Although Max had dimples in both cheeks and was the GQ, Coburn version. Yeah, Max had straight black hair, and he had Madeline’s violet eyes.

Jason’s mother was his Dad’s first wife—bad choice, bad marriage, bad mental road for him to go down. Turning away from the image, Jason grabbed a light jacket and left. He climbed into his extended cab truck. His work truck was too dirty and full of tools. He had been putting in long hours at the old clinic Brook had bought for herself and his cousin Renee. Nothing was up to code in the place. He had to rewire everything. Other contractors were in there too, not only getting the heating and cooling updated, but also structurally fitting it for a whirlpool and other rehab equipment, the other half for Renee’s holistic therapy area. He drove down the winding drive, gazing up and down the black top two-lane of Copper Creek. A classic Beatles CD played low in the deck. He could see his Dad’s house across the way, on a hill, and there was Jude’s big cedar home down from that, and the old farmhouse that belonged to their Grandma Dovie. It was on his side of the hill and Renee lived in it on and off, when she wasn’t staying with Sunny Lightfoot at his new place. They had a relationship, were a couple, though according to the family grapevine, it wasn’t Sunny now who wouldn’t make it official, despite the fact he was older than her—but Renee, who wanted to get her business and career established first. Jason had a feeling that it was not just Sunny’s sophistication and wealth. The half-French, half Indian, lawyer owned the Diamond Back Tavern, a stake in Rafael’s restaurant, and other businesses. He now worked as liaison for the DA. It was also that Renee did not want other people to assume a younger woman, herself, had hooked up with him, for those reasons. Renee had split with her family young, declared herself independent and worked her ass off to finish school. She had done cleaning for the family, started an on-line business, while she learned holistic medicines, herbal therapy, honed her own skills at organic food and products, and worked at The Tavern sometimes then. She’d quit though, some time before Sunny and she ironed things out. She was not from Sunny’s crowd, and though it didn’t bother Sunny now—the age difference being his issue before—it bothered Renee enough, so that she wanted to succeed on her own. She made Brook promise not to let Sunny help with their new

venture, so Brook financed it with her inheritance from her aunt Gi Gi. Renee would pay her back. They were calling it Brio~Health and wellness. The family knew it would thrive. Most folks liked having things nearby and Brook was licensed to do several types of specialized physical therapy. He figured Renee would end up letting one of her siblings live in it, the farmhouse. Her mother, his aunt Deena, had died unexpectedly last month. The wayward twins, Carmon and Chris and the youngest of Deena’s, Lilly, had been in an all-out rebellion since they hit their teen years—understandable given the way Deena was. However, her death was a shock for everyone. She had not spoken to the family, not even his dad, in years, and hadn’t told anyone she was fighting cancer. There were the typical unresolved issues and baggage from Deena keeping that from them, from their non-relationship. They rarely spoke. She had left her remaining fortune to charities. Her land in Copper Creek, from grandpa Coburn, she had set aside for a deer and nature park. Not because Deena cared about nature—she cared more about her social clubs. She had done that to keep from another Coburn getting it or living on it. Pulling out, driving, he let the window down to take in the spring morning; wanting that Starbucks and figuring he could do the drive through and still reach the airport on time. He could hear his cell beeping in the charger port between the front seats, which it always did. He had the family set to another ring tone. At one time, as a single guy, the kind of popularity he had with the women was cool as hell. Since he got constant calls and messages from old girlfriends, one night stands, and flings, when he didn’t want them—at work, or when the family was in crisis, he was intending to delete them out. The family all ragged each other about something, the single ones about whom they dated. Jason had set some kind of record, even for him, last year. His dating blonds stage, his dad called it. He was lately analyzing it, and finding the reality not so cool. Even if he didn’t have groupies from being in the band, the lead singer sometimes, in the Coburn group, he was a flirt like most the Coburn’s. It was in their nature. Still, he had matured young, been responsible for himself a long time, and he never considered himself a player. That is what he was in danger of

becoming though. It wasn’t all him. He couldn’t stop women from calling that he never promised anything serious to. And, he never did. He often got calls out of the blue from a show, an autograph he had signed for a woman, or someone he’d had a casual chat with. He was guilty of bringing a different girl to family functions on a regular basis, guilty of picking one up at the Diamond Back Tavern Sunny Lightfoot owned— or hooking up just to assuage his restless mood. It had its downside. Some he had to own up to. He had done the pick-ups, the one night stands. It wasn’t something his dad was cool with. He called that kind of thing (drive through) though he would never tell Jason how to run his life, Mitch would rather he had “meaningful relationships” than the constant stream of different women. Jason didn’t disagree with that, but he couldn’t force what wasn’t there. His dad had loved Madeline from the start, and even through his mistakes, their 20 years apart, a child she had kept secret, (Max) and everything, including Mitch marrying his mom, Rhonda—he always belonged to Madeline, and she to him. It was the same with Brook, Madeline’s daughter, and Coy, Jason’s cousin. The same with his half brother Max and Jordan too, Max said he knew within an hour he’d found his soul mate. It eluded Jason. Some of that had to do with his bad relationship with his Mom, probably. More like, it had to do with his “knowing” none of the chicks he was with really knew him, really cared. They wanted a good body, good time, a guy who sang on stage and made it seem personal…Jason wasn’t into over analyzing his sex life, and that’s all it was. He turned off and went through a Starbucks drive through, getting his coffee and cooling it until he could drink it. He had most of it gone by the time he was entering the airport lot. Brook had kept in contact with all the friends she had made the years she’d lived in Europe. She had told him that her friend would recognize him, even if he didn’t her. She had always sent movies and photos to them, still chatted everyday with Briane. He recalled that Briane was the one who lost a husband in an accident young, and though he remembered the posters and CD covers from Brook’s band in those days—they were punk and

rock, so the hairstyles and clothing was pretty out there. He vaguely recalled that though Briane played Celtic music and sang it, Brook said she took the drums in the band—all the girls and guys chose to live the vagabond rocker life for different reasons. She and Briane seemed to have formed the strongest bond. Briane had a rough go or something with a Dad, who abandoned the family… and she had been struggling with grief and other things when she hooked up. He wished he had paid better attention now. It was not really like him to not do so, but he had been going through something himself the last couple of years. He found a parking spot. It wasn’t crowded. The holidays were long past. He cut the engine, finished his coffee, and put the cup in the holder. Undoing his seatbelt, he grabbed his sunglasses off the dash and put them on before he climbed out and shut the door. Striding toward the front entry, he idly spun his keys on their ring and sifted through the things Brook had asked him to do. Briane was renting Madeline’s childhood home, which Mitch had remodeled for Brook when she moved back. The key was there, Briane had done as Brook before, and had her things shipped beforehand. They had all arrived. She was expected at Christmas, but with everything that went down… Jason started to go in and happened to glance at a bench just back from the main entry outside. He did a quick scan of the two women talking and the little black-haired girl sleeping between them, and walked over. “Briane?” The woman nearest turned and looked up at him, then she stood. “Yes.” Her Irish accent was thick and lilting. It contrasted with Jason’s deep southern drawl. “I’m Jason. Brook’s step brother.” He grinned slightly, pushing his sunglasses up on his head. “Yes, I recognize ya.” She smiled back. As a guy does, Jason filed away things pretty quickly. She was around five three, her braided hair mussed, and a red brown color; eyes were green as fresh pines, skin ivory except for a natural blush on her cheeks. Pink lips, slim nose and overall

healthy slash natural in that, why did I expect pink hair and glittered eyes, place, in his mind. She was attractive, in a mature, unique… and illusive way. All this went through in the seconds before she introduced her sister and niece. “This is my sister, Kiera O’Fahy, and her daughter Mora.” Jason nodded and offered his hand. The sister, only a year or two younger, didn’t look much like her. She was five five and had short caramel blond hair with a few subtle highlights, beautiful dove eyes and fair skin. Not only was she dressed differently, neat lowrise slacks, white sweater and a longer sweater unbelted over that. There was a reserve in her that Jason just picked up, though her own accented greeting was polite. Briane woke the little girl. She was tall so it was hard to guess her age— seven or eight probably. Curly black hair, gray eyes, and a curious smile spoke volumes when she saw Jason. She wasn’t as reserved, merely tired. “Everyone ready?” He asked after shaking the girl’s hand. “Your things are at the house and my uncle Jude has a car for you to use.” He glanced at the sister. “We’ll scare you up something too.” They walked toward the truck, Briane beside him. Jason caught a whiff of her shampoo and perfume. He was always comfortable around strangers, anyone, since he performed from the time he could hold a mic or instrument. Given his wild and crazy family, there wasn’t much he that put him off balance. He had enough experience with women of all types, ages, to be the flirt he was—or to engage in serious conversation. Yet, after he helped the sister and her niece in the back seats, when he opened the passenger door for Briane, their eyes met just before he stepped back—and Jason felt peculiar. He felt assessed… and something else that eluded him. “Buckle up,” he reminded, going to the driver’s side, getting in. after pulling out, he informed, “The family will have stocked the house with food, and Brook has lists, all of our numbers and addresses, if you need anything else. Sunny’s number is there. The security system was updated.” He was relieved that Brook kept in touch with her; he did not want to try to explain the family complexities, nor the trouble

between Brook and Karla last summer. He asked next, “Anyone hungry now, need something? I’d be more than happy to take you to breakfast or whatever.” He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the sister shake her head. Then he glanced at Briane. “No. But thank you.” Jason pointed out the turn off to The Tavern, where Briane would work and sing. He showed her the clinic, where Brook and Renee would have their business. He was absently glad the crews were all there working. After generally talking, explaining the uncomplicated lay out of the town of Diamond Back, where to bank, get mail, drug stores, shopping, the way to the bigger malls and multiplex, he was silent turning up the road to the house. It set on a dead end lot and was much improved by that remodel Mitch had done. on this spring morning, the neighborhood was at it’s best, normal working families, people already outside; tilling gardens, mowing, someone doing their power walk, and several white haired ladies standing at the fence talking. “Shouldn’t you answer that?” He looked across at Briane would said that when he pulled in the drive. His cell had beeped the whole trip, over the soft CD music. “Nah. It’s all good.” He smiled and parked the truck. He got out, and started for their doors, but they let themselves out. Jason walked to the front porch and waited to show them the security code, giving them a card out of his wallet with it on it. The sister went in first, with her daughter. For a moment he stood there with Briane, still trying to figure out why he was a little off balanced, and half putting it down to their different cultures, maybe his drawl, and his expressions, hers, whatever…but not really believing that was it. She wore a sweater too, a lightweight black one, and had some sort of cape/coat over her arm, her purse in her hand. He noticed her low-rise jeans, the kind that were in style and faux worn, and her boots were comfortable heeled, suede. There was a hippie slash hip, relaxed sense, to her appearance. Something sexy in a (she could wear anything or nothing and look good) way. She didn’t have the busty, see my boobs, tanning-bed tan, short

skirt or tight jeans, look, his latest string of women had. Admittedly, he had dated that (type) of party girls. She wasn’t “young”, though young age-wise, yes. There was maturity there, some experience and confidence—and maybe that was why he stood there with all his Coburn charm deserting him. She was different. But, that never got him off balance before. Jason Coburn could talk to; charm, anyone, if he wanted to. In her Irish accent, having looked him over too quickly for his ego, she asked, “How is Brook really? She sent pictures, e mails, but she didn’t look herself...” He sighed and glanced across the yard then back. “She’s better. It was a rough go. A bad time. She had gestational diabetes, and little Maddy was jaundice.” Briane nodded. “You probably know, the night she went into labor, a week early, it was terrible out. Rafael…she’s told you about…” “Yes. She’s always kept me up on her life, the family and her relationships.” Jason rubbed the back of his neck, still remembering that night, still, like all the family, trying to recover and make sense of everything. “He was going to be Godfather to Maddy—is—her Godfather. Coy wanted him to. They have become good friends, probably because they both care for Brook so much. Anyway, he got there, and was in the delivery room with them for the birth. Ashley, Brook probably explained their getting together. She lived with him, and was getting off work, headed there….everyone rushed to the hospital…as we do, when another Coburn is born. Ashley was in an accident…” Briane's green eyes were serious. “Yes. She told me how terrible it was. One moment they were holding her child, Rafe was weeping for joy, and then he was being called out—and they told her about Ashley.” “It was a night of both joy and grief. Ashley was on life support. Rafe didn’t leave her side. He didn’t want to turn it off… We all loved Ashley too. Madeline went from joy over her second new grandchild, though she claims Leigh and Levi, to being devastated for Rafe. Herself too, because Ashley was a best friend.”

“Such a terrible thing.” “Yeah. Though Brook got better and Maddy’s jaundice cleared up, Her upset over Rafe’s pain… it just tore everyone up. Coy was beside himself. He made her go and be with Rafe the day they unplugged the ventaltor. Though, no one is over that. Brook just collapsed afterwards. We were all trying to get through the emotional rollercoaster.” “She said that it was pneumonia?” “Yes. And, anemia. She had bled a lot, still was, from the birth, lots of stitches. Maddy weighed 11 lbs.” He smiled a little. None of them were out of the dream like state from all those late nights and running and emotions yet. “She’s been home awhile. Coy and Levi spoil her, or try to, as do the rest of the family. But, Brook is like Madeline. She is moving on and planning the wellness clinic. She wants to do the rehab more than ever now, and have counseling too. She worries about Rafe. He’s not been back to the restaurant he owns. He’s not been seen often outside his house. He answers the phone, but what can he say? What can any of us say, to help him?” He saw her eyes darken before she looked away from him. Her profile was to him, as she murmured, “People handle things in their own way. Loss like that, sudden loss, it’s devastating.” “Yes. Brook told me you were widowed.” “Ten years.” She nodded but did not expound. Briane met his gaze again. “Brook is very fortunate. She oft says that the family keeps her strong. She thinks much of you and Maxwell.” “She’s not my blood, but I knew Brook, even before she got with Coy. I always liked her. It didn’t take much to love her, and she gave me and Max the chance to rag a kid sister, give her hell, or try to. She’s a cool chic.” “She is. I call her Mucker, which means someone you muck about with, but she’s as my own kin.” He could hear the girl walking on the back deck, gazing around probably, and smell coffee wafting from the open door. Jason knew he shouldn’t stare at her face but he did it, a lot— before he told Briane, “I’m off all day, or plan to be, other than making a check on the clinic later tonight, make sure the crews all out and everything. If, after you rest, or whatever, you want to go

see her or just drive around town, get familiar with it… whatever…?” “I’ll wait to see her. The last text I got at the airport she said she was sleeping in, that she’d drive out to welcome us tomorrow.” She scanned his face this time before adding, “Thank you for the other offer, but I don’t want to take up your time, or your day off. It was good of you to collect us from the airport.” “No problem.” Jason summoned his best grin, although he sensed something under that polite refusal. He slid his sunglasses down and turned to go. “Jude will have your car here in the morning. Someone will get something for Kiera if she plans on staying?” He turned slightly after the last step. She had walked over to the porch rail and was leaning against it watching him. “She says not, says she wants to see me settled in, but I hope she will stay.” “You’ll like it here. The family is anxious to meet you…” “I feel like I know them, from the letters, photos, home movies and the music she’s sent me.” That is when it clicked in Jason’s brain. He stared at her. She stared at him. And he knew just what she thought he was. He played it cool, even laughed, “At least you won’t be surprised when you come to Mitch and Madeline’s on Sundays then. They can be overwhelming but they’re loyal as hell.” She seemed to visually retort to that, although her verbal response was as light and airy as his was. “I’m a musician, aside from being Irish, we thrive on rowdy and we understand the value of loyalty.” He should head to his truck, go. Yet Jason held those green eyes a moment longer, noting that once he grew used to the Irish accent, and he hadn’t completely, because she used slang, he had to decipher—he still liked the tone of her voice, the pitch of it. Her light pink lips were damned distracting. Her neat brows were expressive, although he had to admit, her steady stare, the rare pine green hue of her eyes, could pin a guy pretty sharply. He had to probe and read all the nuances…which was a first. “I’m a good guy, loyal too.” Her full smile almost distracted him from her words. However,

he heard them all too clear…. “No doubt to family you are, laddy.” She pushed from the rail and nodded to the truck, saying before she went in, “Yer phone is still beeping. I glanced down and noticed you alphabetize your women, starting with Amber, no B names before Candy, Christy and Courtney…was it?” “Shit.” Jason heard her laugh before she closed the door. She had looked, there were no B’s, but if she had seen that much; she had also seen the (notes) under their name and number when it lit it. They were reminders of where and when he met the women, because he rarely saw them more than once or twice. He got in the truck, pulling the cell out of the port as he turned the key. Glancing at it, he saw eight calls from Patty, two from Linda, and a Sonja he did not recall at all. It was still beeping when he tossed it in the seat and backed out. Jason didn’t imagine Brook did more than joke about his active dating life, in fact he would bet she said nice things about him too… she better have. It really shouldn’t matter. Briane had laughed. She was just a friend of Brooks, and would, probably be taken into the family. So, it wasn’t as if it mattered. What really bothered him was that, (no thanks, I don’t want to be seen with you, taken as one of your ladies), look, he now put together with that silent stare. Shit. Where the hell was his charm and charisma? He knew he had it. He was just tired…the last few months… Shit. That didn’t fly either. Briane Richards was not real impressed with him. Coburn’s loved a challenge, his soul whispered. His ego muttered, you have never had to “win over” a woman—from zero to 90 years old, in your life. Zip, nada, not a damned spark of interest had the woman shown. Okay, so it did matter because he felt a sort of sizzle and spark the moment she had turned and looked at him at the airport. There was this….hell, he didn’t know what it was…a kind of gazing into his soul? How crazy was that. Jason grunted to himself.

Chapter 2 Briane slept most of that evening and night, aware vaguely that after unpacking, her sister and niece did too. She awoke early to the sound of singing birds, had her shower, brewed coffee, and admired the house before taking her coffee to the back deck. The woods were lovely. Bouquets of earth and grass, growing things in the vicinity, were soothing. In her casual running pants and a T-shirt, her wet hair drying naturally, she strolled around admiring the landscape before taking a seat on the deck steps, gazing at the lot before the woods. She heard Kiera awake, and it wasn’t long before her sister joined her—wearing draw string lounging pants and a comfortable sweat shirt, her feet in socks. Kiera did the same scan before joining her, their shoulders touching. “It’s lovely.” “Yes.” Kiera agreed and then glanced toward her, her elbows on her thighs, hands cupping a mug. “You didn’t say much last night…” “About what?” “Him. Jason. He’s the one you had a thing for.” Laughing, snorting, Briane took a sip and muttered, “I’d hardly call it a thing.” “I was there, at least on break, that time Brook received those home movies and the ones at the lake. You kept rewinding it on him, asking questions.” “Everyone likes a bit of eye candy.” Briane shrugged. Kiera was not buying it. “You asked questions, loads of them, and you went through the letters and pictures. You kept a dozen, and film where he’s singing…” “He’s a handsome man. I was fascinated by the fact his Ma was loaded, that he was well educated, private schooled, could have been anything…and chose a different life…” “It was more than that. I remember the look on your face when Brook talked about how cool he was, how he liked her and her mother—what a life he’d built for himself…earned respect.” Kiera snorted this time. “Curious too—that though she circled all the girls he was with in those gatherings, he never was beside them in the

photos…” “That’s because he goes through them like socks.” Briane mentioned what she saw on his cell. “And even had I not, Brook told me he’s a guy who gets around. More so, in the last couple of years. It’s nothing to me. I liked all the family and who wouldn’t be intrigued by how loyal and strong they are, how they take people into the bosom of it? Night and day to our fecked up mess of kin.” “Okay. Play it that way. But you have never been that interested. Not since Adam died. And if you’re wondering, I could tell he was into you.” “He’s apparently randy for any female in his path. No—thank you.” After a moment of laughter, Kiera mused, “I waited for that moment you’d meet him. Even in the backseat; I felt a crackle of tension.” Briane knew she was not going to let it go. “Whatever I thought before, I’ve seen all I need to. Any man who has had that many women, and yes I remember how they look—is not a man I’d waste my time with.” Kiera didn’t argue that. They both knew that after Adam died Briane almost lost herself completely…She had lost her soul, her music, and plunged into the party life to forget. It was a long road back, and she wasn’t going to get lost again. “What do you want to do today?” Briane opened her mouth but heard a truck horn blowing. They both stood and walked back in, and through to the front. Out on the porch, she eyed the tow truck with a car on it, and the other one that Jude Coburn got out of. Briane smiled thinking that “bad ass” was Brook’s father in law. He looked like a hard rocker, shoulder length streaked blond mane, and when he walked up to the steps in his snug worn and torn jeans, motorcycle boots, tattoos showing on sinewy arms, Hell yez on his black T-shirt, she thought he fit everything she knew about him. “I’m Jude, Brook’s father in law.” He paused, one foot on the step and nodded toward the wrecker. “That’s GW.” She flickered her glance to the burly guy, shaved head, shirt with the sleeves ripped out, and Levis—cowboy boots. She said, “He looks like the photos, except the last I saw of him, he wore bugs bunny drawers.”

Jude laughed. “That’s GW. You have known Brook awhile, but we’ll still all try to introduce ourselves. There’s so many of us, and Alvin, you’ll distinguish from GW by his bushy beard.” She moved and offered her hand. “I’m Briane Richards.” Afterwards she looked back where her sister leaned in the doorway, having changed into jeans, a sweater, and running shoes. “That’s my sister, Kiera O’Fahy. Her daughter Mora is sleeping…” By the time, Kiera came to shake his hand, GW was there. He spit a stream of snuff and wiped his hands on a bandanna before shaking their hands. His eyes twinkled. “I like that accent.” “Yours too.” She liked him and had cracked up at the antics he and Alvin got up to in those movies Brook sent. Though Kiera was back by the door again, she could see her sister was smiling while GW began to talk—mostly telling them they were expected to show up every Sunday at Mitch and Madeline’s. If they didn’t go to church, that was all right, but they had better show up. He said they would have to sing and the family would give them a little time before they had them riding horses, four wheeling and playing “Coburn” style sports. Jude said when he was through, “I brought these vehicles for you. Take your pick which you want…or Kiera can drive the other.” She walked down with him, awed, amazed at the gleam of chrome and mint condition of the classic cars. She knew Jude had a racetrack, and did restoration and detailed work, but this was too much. “I pictured something different.” She laughed and glanced at him with surprise. “Anything will do, an old truck, a beat up—” “Oh, hell no.” He was dead serious. “Not in this family, not unless you drive it with class. Sure, we got farm and work trucks, beat up old shit. But if people know you’re driving a car I gave you, no damn way you’re not styling.” He waved a hand. “That cherry red one is a 1966 Bonneville. The black, a 63 eighty-eight convertible.” “I know. I’d be terrified someone would dent it, or I would.” “That’s my stock and trade.” He winked. “Shit happens. If you like it, want to buy it later, it’s yours. If you wreck it, I got six more.” Briane looked between them. “I’ll take the Bonneville.” His grin was wicked. “I like you, Irish.”

“My sister’s going to be daft for that car.” She nodded to the eighty-eight. “Our Da left when we were just kids. We always had to walk everywhere. At the time, our Ma lived in Tipperary, and Kiera, I, my four brothers, were all home. My brother’s loved classic cars and we’d always steal their magazines and pick one, and pretend we’d own it.” Jude nodded. “I like a lot of cars, trucks, sport vehicles, but a classic is like the one woman or man you can’t forget. It’s unique and feels like good sex to drive.” She chuckled, “I definitely need one then. I haven’t had either in a good long while.” He studied her, amber eyes going over her. “You’re a classic yourself, Irish. Brook told me you’ve been a widow a long time. I can attest to the fact that sometimes second chances are better than your first.” She shrugged. “I like the car.” He laughed. “Smooth. Okay. I was just saying, you have it. Like my Ruby does, like Madeline does. The right man will know it.” Briane called her sister down, and after the other car was lowered, they got in them, started them. The men beaming and watching as Briane rolled her eyes in ecstasy, when the Bonneville fired to life. She could see Kiera in the rear view mirror, laughing. To please the men, they took them for a short drive. Returning, Briane got out and walked toward them as Kiera pulled in and was doing likewise. “Looks good on you,” GW winked. “Feels good too.” Briane heard Jude laugh when she said that. Kiera told them. “I won’t be staying but a couple of weeks, but I’m daft for the car.” Her gray eyes weren’t usually so frank but Briane could see the thrill in them, as she looked a Jude. “Can I buy it?” “Sure.” Jude nodded. “I’m trying to talk her into staying and making a life here.” Briane confessed. Both men claimed she should, promising they would do whatever to help, and all the Coburn’s would too.

Kiera folded her arms, her reserve coming to the fore. “I’ll think about it.” She thanked Jude again, and then excused herself to cook breakfast. As the men were in the tow truck, ready to leave, Briane stood by the driver’s side, keys in her hot little hand and absolutely over the moon at their generosity. She offered over the low rumble of the truck, “Kiera’s naturally more reserved. After Da left, life went to shite. The brothers drifted off, Ma drank…I did my own escaping. Kiera’s always been the smart one, always with her head in books. She was above her class despite having to do the cooking and cleaning, bringing Ma home from one pub or another…” “I didn’t take any insult,” GW assured her. “Me either,” Jude said. Briane nodded and smiled softly. “I know. She knows all of you somewhat from Brook’s pictures and letters. She visited us, the band once, when she was on break. Kiera got free tuition to a good university and was planning to go into bioengineering. Though I wed young—Adam was too, he worked, everything from acting to musician and security to afford our flat, while I made a bit singing. I suppose we, Kiera and I, were both gazing for security and love. Freshman, first term, Kiera met a boy who got her with a babe and left—just ran off. She had to quit and go back home. Although ma died, and she tried to finish her studies, Kiera never could make enough part time. I was living in Dublin then, and she came to stay with me. We could work different shifts and watch over Mora. Kiera saved her money and she and a friend started a thriving catering business in Temple Bar, a place in Dublin equal to your Soho district. Everything was going great. Mora thrived. Kiera had her own apartment—” After a long pause, Jude asked softly, “What happened?” Briane couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her tone, “The little shite who left her pregnant with Mora, showed up. He was drugged out, angling for a free ride. When she couldn’t rid herself of him, she went to the police. He tried to claim Mora, and threatened to take her away. He had been in trouble a dozen times and jailed. That scared us both.

Even had she the rights, there was no stopping his harassing her. He caused such a problem the landlord had her leave, and her partner in the business couldn’t put up with him showing up, and wrecking the place—trying to rob the till. Finally Kiera sold her half and we were looking to leave and go somewhere—to get Mora safe.” Briane looked behind her at the house before gazing at the now scowling men again. “He broke into my place, wrecked it in the dead of night, and had wee Mora out of bed, terrifying her, threatening to kill her if we didn’t give him the money we had. A neighbor of mine came behind him and knocked him senseless, until we could go to the police.” GW was shaking his head. Obviously angry, he said, “Tell me they did something then?” She shook her head. “They got him. We had enough time to gather our things and leave. That is why I didn’t come at Christmas time. We were safe enough, staying with a friend of mine. Mora had nightmares. Normally she’s an open and trusting child.” “Your sisters had a bad deal in life,” That from Jude. “All that picking herself up, working…and that bastard shows up.” “Yes. She has some money. He didn’t get that. However, more than that, Kiera was a long time trusting men, trusting life. She was always responsible with Mora, wanting to give her stability. She worked hard to do that. She was perfect for that kind of business, and was thriving too…just starting to have a bit of social life. Now, she blames herself for too much. I wish she’d stay with me, but she’s twenty four, I can’t force her.” It was GW who looked at her and asked, “You have kids?” Surprised, Briane nodded. “I have a son. He lives with his… with my husband’s parents, in England. After Adam died…I…it was best. I see him often as possible, but my life has been music, traveling, and though I pay for his schooling and everything, it is no existence for him. He has his school chums and life…” GW nodded. “What made you ask that?” She looked at him. “I told Brook but she knows I don’t talk about him often. I have my own guilt, and it’s too hard for me… I am almost twenty-eight. This is the first time in my life I’m going to try and build a real, steady and secure, one.” He smiled a little. “You just know.”

“Do you?” “No. My Lottie had miscarriages. We stopped trying. She passed two years ago. Breast cancer.” “I’m sorry.” “We had many good years.” He nodded. Jude told her, “We’re not here to judge you. You know about most of us from Brook. We’re here to help though, to listen, and while the women are better at this shit than I am, or GW, we’ve got your back. You and Kiera, and the girl.” Yes, Briane knew about hard assed Jude Coburn, so she knew there was truth in those words. Considering all they had been through, had on their plate, it was humbling. Amazing, and humbling. She said as she stepped back, “Thank you. For everything…” GW winked before pulling out. “We’ll make you a cornbread sister soon enough. And Kiera, she won’t be able to resist us.” His brows wiggled. That was an honor in the Coburn clan of Copper Creek, she knew. With it came all the things that a big family expected and did. She waved when they pulled out, and then walking back to the deck, Briane mused that over the years, the letters, e mails, calls, Brook would have her pissing herself with laughter—even when she was grumbling about their pushy ways and over protectiveness. Yet they had been there for her, through the mess and dangerous episode provoked by Karla—and they had stood between her and Coy, even when they believed Brook and he loved each other, until Brook could work out her emotions. Brook had been urging her to come here, promising her she would find love, acceptance, crazy and quirky people, who though trying at times, was seriously protective of, and loyal to those they loved. Seated in the swing, she heard Mora talking, and soon the cartoons blocked that out. She mused on what Kiera had said about Jason Coburn. She would deny it until her breath left her body now. It was not as if she didn’t pick up much from Brook. Any man with that talent, voice, that body, and those blue eyes…ah,

anyone would wonder. She had done more than that, true. Some part of her thought all the positive and good things, the amazing things; Brook said about him would override it. Half of her response to realizing what all those damn beeping calls were—was disappointment, her illusions being thin to start with. The other half was that electric reaction in her body the moment his deep drawl called her name— the moment she turned and looked into those sky blue eyes between impossible thick sooty lashes. How often had she’d sat hearing him sing, laugh, and talk on film. Moreover, what she felt that one time Brook was filming and told him, say hi to my best Friend Briane. He had been teasing her and he’d looked in the camera and said deep and smooth, “Hello Briane. I’m Brook’s best looking and most talented brother...” and getting a poke in the ribs he had laughed and winked, “Come to Tennessee and see us sometime.” His scent in the truck was teasing. what she knew of the man’s man, the talented musician and singer, the ivy league grandson of a doctor—the laborer, the brother, son—that he looked so much bloody bigger, stronger, vivid and masculine, in person—His smile, white, charming, that stupid dent in his chin. She had seen that grin on print. Briane had heard his voice. She had watched his charm; his movements…had seared him in her mind somewhere through time. It was safe, distant, a fantasy of sorts. She did not have to have a relationship with someone across the ocean, someone in pictures and film—something she had avoided, since Adam’s death. In real life, she’d felt a jolt to her senses, yes, a crackle of attraction. She bloody well struggled to think of a thing to say to him. This was why she resisted Brook’s urgings to come home with her back then, to come visit, live and work here awhile—or forever as Brook had put it, since she came back, because she felt just like she feared, she would—and he was a man who had women on call apparently. “Breakfast?” Briane glanced over and then took the eggs and toast her sister handed her. Kiera settled on the steps with a glass of iced juice. “You told

them?” “Yes.” Briane swallowed and added, “They said to tell you, they’ve got your back. You and Mora.” Kiera glanced over her shoulder. “An American expression meaning—they’ll protect, listen to, and keep your confidences, I think.” “I don’t know…maybe Mora and I will go to Italy or ….” “Don’t decide yet. Just open yourself up and relax. He will never come here. As the police said, he’ll either O.D or end his life locked up.” “Someday,” Kiera mused, “Mora will want to understand it all. And what can I say to her…” “That we are all young and in search of love. That she was not a mistake. That sometimes, men leave. We cannot blame ourselves for the things that happen. We keep trying though, we live and we learn, and do better. I think she’ll thrive here.” “She had no nightmares last night.” “Mora knows he can’t get to her. She’s safe.” Brook pulled in sometime in the next hour. They had gone in, got the dishes done, and Briane went out to meet her. “Oh, my friend. I have missed you! You worried me sick.” She hugged her tightly, hearing Brook laugh. “At least it got you here.” Dressed in soft trousers and a pleated shirt that had a boy and girl angel on them (one with Levi, the other Maddy) above them, Brook got the baby carrier out. “This is Maddy.” “Oh, you wee little thing.” Briane kissed that flushed face under a pink hat. The child was not wee, but healthy and bright eyed. She had on a pink dress and anklets, white paten-leather shoes. Briane carried her to the porch where her sister and Mora waited while Brook talked. “I just came from her check up. She’s still gaining weight. A true Coburn, she eats like a horse.” Brook hugged Kiera. “You’re a grown woman!” She stepped back and eyed her. “And twice as beautiful.” Having seen pictures of Mora, she then gave her a pat and grinned. “There’s a dozen girls and boys anxious to meet you, and be your friend, including my step son Levi. Although, I must warn

you, he’s obsessed with wolverine so you may want to hang out with the girls.” Going inside, they were settled on the sofa. Mora was fascinated by the baby and sat by her, smiling and talking softly to her. Kiera poured them iced sodas, and before Brook started talking again Briane noticed how sore, careful she moved, and how wan she looked. Though she believed Brook was recovering, it was obvious she had been through a lot. “How are you?” Brook smiled. “I’m fine. I know I look like shite.” They laughed. She confided, “I’ve still got stitches and my iron is low. But honestly, Coy, Mom, Ruby, no one lets me do much of anything, and I’ve been resting, eating well—despite the fact that I secretly call Mitch to send me something—because Coy, bless him, is a Mac and cheese, chicken nugget, kind of guy. That’s great for Levi, but…” After laughing, she went on. “We’d never tell him, but Mitch smuggles food to me. Renee, my lord, her organic foods…and she freaks Coy out rubbing my stomach with oils and giving me all these scents to burn when I nap. Honestly, they work. It works. Coy is worse than a mother hen. When he is not putting a mirror to Maddy’s mouth, to make sure she’s breathing, he’s calling the doctor if I so much as wince. I’m sure my OB-GYN hates him.” Kiera had gotten Maddy out of the carrier and had her hat off; she was holding her so that Mora could hold her little hand and smooth her peach fuzz head. She said, “She’s beautiful, and just watch her, she’s listening to everything you say…” “Yes. She’s going to be a genius, according to the Coburns.” They chatted awhile and Briane gave the baby her bottle, held her, listening to Brook and watching her—loving the change in her friend despite the recent worry. She could tell from the conversation Brook loved Coy, and Levi, who was already protective of his sister. When the child napped, and Mora went out to play, her sister going also, to keep an eye on her, Briane turned and took Brook’s hand. “I’m sorry about Ashley, and sorry for Rafe.” “Oh, God, Briane.” Brook squeezed her hand, her eyes dark

and troubled. “I still cry, still go mad with worry for him. Mom drives by his house…says he’s likely drinking. Which as I told you, is not Rafe. Sunny talks to him. Although, when we ask, he just shakes his head…it’s so senseless, so terrible.” “I know how futile it is to try and make sense, or find a reason for that kind of sudden tragedy.” Brook nodded. “Coy and he were becoming close. I think Coy felt more secure, when I was pregnant. Rafe and Ashley were around, so both made the effort. Somewhere along the way, they became friends. I remember sitting on the sofa late one night, Coy was rubbing my back, and he said unexpectedly, I think we should invite Rafe and Ashley out here for dinner. And, we did. We had a blast. Played cards—the men cheated.” Brook laughed but her eyes were starting to water. “I just cried the night Coy asked him to be Maddy’s Godfather—shit, we all bawled. That night, when she was born, you should have seen the two of them. They had the nurses and doctors rattled at every pain, and between that, their cracking jokes, I don’t know how I got through labor. But he was there through it all and was holding her…” Brook wiped a tear away. “I sometimes freeze that moment in my mind. Seconds before a nurse came in and whispered to him—and I knew it…just felt it. Everyone, Coburn’s in the waiting room, should have been coming in…and I felt such a panic in my heart. Coy was told first and didn’t want to tell me, but I insisted.” “That had to be hard for everyone.” “We prayed so hard. For the week she was with us, but…” “I’m sorry.” “I wish she’d have married Rafe. He asked her to. However, Ashley had a bad first marriage. She loved Rafe, and brought so much to his life. God they were fun to watch. She claimed her age, her bad track record, kept her from the alter, yet I saw her look at him in amazement many times. She was okay with being in the moment and being happy, enjoying someone. I don’t think she wanted Rafe to commit to her because she was older, and she just had that way of loving him for being so good to her, and being okay with simply that.” “He loved her, obviously.” “Yes. She nurtured parts of him that needed it. She enjoyed

Rafe. He is the whole package, and women are drawn to him. However, Ashley was unique in his life too; a relationship I applauded because he finally could talk about his childhood and past, and have a relationship with someone he knew wouldn’t judge him. It taught him more about relationships, he says. Because just having casual things, one night stands… was all he had allowed himself. I hate this for him. I’m so worried about him.” “Time. Time, and keep reaching out, letting him know you’re there.” Brook nodded. They talked another hour then the baby awoke. Diaper changes were accomplished, and they walked out back a bit, talking to Kiera, and Mora. “Jude is so cool.” Brook eyed the cars out front later, gazing inside them. “He loves cars and he loves to see women driving them. Ruby says they go down to the tracks he owns and make out in them all the time.” “That doesn’t surprise me.” “Hey. I’m going to stop by the clinic before going home. You want to come see it?” “Sure.” Briane went in as Brook got in her car, and had the baby secured. She grabbed a light jacket and her purse, giving her hair a swipe with the brush. After telling her sister where she would be, she joined Brook. Briane said yes, because Jason had the day off. On their way, Brook talked excitedly about it. She loved the band, loved working at The Tavern, though she had been on maternity leave, doctor’s orders, yet this was her calling. “When the doc retired finally, the City council was going to tear the building down. I begged for it. Then I paid way too much for it.” She glanced at Briane sardonically. Attending the road again, she told her, “Next, I had to beg Renee to stop being afraid of failure and agree to partner with me. I did all my tests, took more classes. Coy was thrilled, because he hates the impersonal staff at the bigger hospital, and I do his therapy.” “I’ll bet.” Brook snorted then sighed. “Haven’t done that in…two months. I can’t wait…” “I remember how you talked about working in that field. You’ll do well.”

“I aim to try. Renee, she’s running all over, giving samples away, just gearing up for the day she opens. We have two unemployed nurses willing to work for us, and a male PT from the next town contacted us via the website. If Renee’s sister moves into the farmhouse, which Renee is begging her too—then we’ll hire her, and we have someone soon, to do the accounting and appointments. It’s coming together.” They pulled into the lot amid vans and trucks. “Oh, good. Jason is here,” Brook said after she got out and had the baby in the carrier. “I thought it was his week off?” “It is. But I called him after Mitch came by earlier. There was some mishap…wires cut or something, by the other crew…” Brine felt like groaning, but for all her casualness, Brook was observing her reactions. She should have never made a show over him… “Let’s go through here and avoid the dust.” They walked in a side door and into an area already dry walled and where they could see the crew beyond, through plastic sheeting. There were sounds, tools, voices, but where they stood was finished except for paint and equipment. Sheeting protected the tile floors. She watched Brook go over and sit on a makeshift bench. The baby was asleep despite the noise, while she text'd on her phone. Brine leaned by a new window, opened, and gazing out into the parking lot that needed redone, when Jason came through. He wore a white hard hat, work boots, a pair of dusty carpenter jeans and a shirt of some sturdy fabric in dark blue. He had obviously worked because sheetrock dust was on him. He held his phone. “Hey.” He called over the den and stepped inside, looking at Brook with a smile. “Checking up on me?” She stood. “No. I swear.” “I’d hug you, but…” He spread his arms, but Briane noticed he squatted down and kissed Maddy’s cheek. Rising, his back to her, as he talked to Brook, she gathered he was telling her he fixed the problem. “Not a good time to give Briane a tour…”

He looked over his shoulder and gave her a quick grin then turned back to Brook. “No. Sorry. The dust in there is flying thick.” “Okay. And thanks. I’ll buy you dinner tomorrow.” “I’ll hold you to it.” He walked them out. Stopping at his truck, he tossed his hard hat inside and then shoved his hands through his mussed hair and got water from a mini cooler. Briane watched him wet a bandana and wipe his face and hands. She and Brook stood near the vehicle, Maddy back inside, and the windows down. Brook leaned against the side and Briane stood a bit apart, so when Jason joined them, he would be closer to Brook, than herself. “You’re lucky to have me for a brother.” Jason teased before taking a long drink of water, “Coming in on my day off.” “I know. But look at it this way; they would have screwed up all your hard work…” “Yeah.” He laughed and leaned against a work van. “You look tired.” “I’m fine.” “You look tired.” Brook laughed. “I am fine, Jason.” He grunted. After they joked a bit, the baby awoke. Brook went around giving her a pacy and Jason, in the middle of finishing his water, caught Briane gazing at him. Briane was noticing that his hair was thick, still mussed but it looked bloody sexy. He did, clothing dusty and all. Though he wiped off, there was a bit of white dust in the edge of his hair. She watched his lips, that drink, observing his tongue wipe away moisture… “Have dinner with me?” Her gaze went to his eyes…aqua blue, so light. “No.” He grinned. “Okay.” Brook was there, and they left a bit afterwards. “He likes you.” She glanced at Brook. “He likes anything remotely female.” She told her about the ride that morning, the bloody phone beeping.

“It’s obvious…he dates a type, and not for very long.” “I’m not up for a fling, and even if I was, he’s your step-brother and I’m starting a life here.” When they were back at the house, before she got out, Brook said, “Can’t say he has not taken advantage of the offers…But he is so much more, Briane. I know you saw that. I told you—” Briane grinned at her. “I built this expectation in you up, carrying on like I did, when we watched those home movies, or keeping all those pictures… But I can’t do it. I can’t be some guy’s…. you know what I mean.” Brook said, before the door closed, “I’m not giving up.” When Briane walked around the vehicle, she called out the window. “Oh, Sunny said for you to chill a few days, call him next week and he’ll meet you at The Tavern. Said go by and have a drink, get to know the staff if you want.” “Okay.” “But I’ll see you Sunday, right. And Kiera and Mora. Madeline and Mitch are anxious to meet you, and the family will be there. You may as well take them on all at once.” “We’ll be there.” “One or so, they should be back from church by then.” Brook backed out but stopped and called out, “They’ll make you sing.” Laughing Briane nodded. After she was gone, Briane fetched a beer and went to the back deck. Mora and Kiera were in the guest room on the laptop doing something. Shoving her hair back, she relaxed on a wicker chaise and mentally shook her head. He was going to be hell to resist. Jason in the flesh was vividly masculine, just tough enough to ooze all that virile potency and smooth, sexy, confident…Oh, shite. Briane sighed and closed her eyes. She could not muck her life up again. She could not make any more (bad for me) choices. This was supposed to be her—no more running and time to meet challenges, stage. The last stage, because she was tired of living in limbo, not making decisions and sticking to them—or rather following through.

Chapter 3 Mitch cleaned the lawn tractor up and put it in the shed, having finished mowing the farmhouse lawn, and the cemetery above, before doing his own. He fed the horses, checked on the tract where they gardened and hoped his potatoes would do well this year. They had two storms this week, an hour of hail, and he had debris to clear off his ten acres. Today the sun was out and it hit seventy-eight, so he had on a white tank undershirt and his old work Levis, boots that Madeline swore were going to fall apart while he walked, but he wasn’t ready to part with. He had a dozen pair of work boots, but these were best for mowing a hillside in. Mitch was coming round his front porch when he spied Jason’s truck coming up the hollow. He took his cell off his hip and text’d him to join him for a cold beer. He heard the horn beep and went on up the steps. Madeline was already there, two beers in hand. “You’re scary how you do that.” He gave her a grimy kiss. She laughed. “I know you. And I was watching for Jason anyway.” She had been doing the books for The Mill and had on a running suit he loved, plush, soft, fitting her ass well, which he loved too. She had gotten a haircut last week, a short one that looked tousled with highlights in the russet hue. Seating himself in the swing, Mitch was checking her out when he opened the brew and said, “Did you want to talk to him?” “No. But I knew you needed to.” Mitch met her violet eyes. “Hey, I’m fine.” “I know.” Her look was loving, strong. “But you’re closing your business, Mitch. You did everything possible to hang onto it. I know it killed you to lay those men off—men with families. How many nights did you sit up going over and over things, trying to find a way to keep one more man working? I know that was hell for you. It’s been a hell of a few months with Brook getting ill during the pregnancy and Ashley….” She came over and kissed him. “I’m glad you’re going to talk.” He was peeking down the front of the hoodie when she

raised, and grinned at her. “If I pretend to be upset would you give me comfort sex?” “So good, your head would blow off.” He laughed loudly at that and sat back, his eyes raking her. “I think I’d rather be the aggressor tonight.” She raked her teeth over her lip and her eyes lit up. “I’ll go get an early bath…slip on what I bought at that little boutique last week…” Mitch growled, “If you come over here and sit down, I’ll…” “Jesus…” Jason came upon the porch. “Ain’t you two got enough of each other yet?” Madeline turned to him. “No.” After she went inside and Mitch gave him a frosted beer, he said seating himself, “I swear, Dad, there’s something about this front porch and you two…” Mitch chuckled, in a way a seasoned man with all the “secrets” to being good lovers did, slumped in the swing and slowly pushing it. “It’s not the porch, son.” Grunting Jason took a long drink and reared the rocker back, putting his boots on the porch rail. They talked, about the garden, the lawn, the price of gas, and progress at the clinic. Jason had worked there late, and now the paint crew was in, everything finished and shipments of equipment ready to be installed. They wrapped up a conversation about sports, when Mitch asked, “So what are they like?” Jason lowered the beer, his booted ankles crossed as he turned and attended his dad. “Who?” “Brook’s friend and her sister—” Jason held those mirrored blue eyes a moment, and then grunted, “Irish.” A snort from Mitch, humor and then, “That’s not much coming from you.” Sounding fractious, knowing it, Jason lowered his feet to the porch floor. “What’s that mean exactly, coming from me?” His dad didn’t answer so he took a long pull and then glanced at Mitch again. That expression, the raised brows, was so “I know you too well, son, that Jason grunted and looked away. Through the banisters, he absently watched Old Humphrey doing his daily walk

with his ugly ass dog. The old man was as hateful as the day was long and constantly calling his neighbors to complain about something; kids playing, motorcycles, someone listening to music too loud, people who didn’t go to bed at 7 PM like he did. “Kiera is…attractive, reserved, and reminds me a little bit of Brook for some reason. She has that same style. She is the taller of the two. Doesn’t look old enough to have Mora for a daughter. That kid is downright beautiful, big dove eyes, black curls…got a grin that tells you once she’s over her wariness, she’ll be a scamp.” “Briane…” Jason smoothed his thumb over the label on the bottle and chewed his lip a moment. Mitch murmured, “Wow.” Jason took another drink, sat back and finally looked at him. “She’s not beautiful…not…I don’t know.” He glanced away. “Yeah.” Realizing he was not getting out of this, Jason told his dad about picking them up, the damn phone calls—what she had said about them, and her parting remark. He confessed to trying again, when Brook brought her by the clinic. After a moment, when old Humphrey passed by again, he murmured, “Her hair is a mix of brown and red…looks straight but it has that muss to it, like…like the wind ruffles through it. I have never seen eyes that deep green. Her skin is fair and ruddy too. Once you listen past the accent, there’s a certain tone to her voice…” He looked down at the beer, only half-aware of what he said. “She’s the shorter, but doesn’t seem so, long waist. healthy, not skinny—something about her all together—the overall picture, nothing but casual in how she was dressed but…you think, if she was just climbing out of bed, you’d still want to look at her.” A moment passed before Mitch asked, “That last girl you dated, Karen, what did she look like?” Jason frowned. “Blond, great tits.” Mitch grunted. “Jason.” Jason sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Sorry, that was crude.” He regarded Mitch. “You ever met someone who seemed mature, like earthy, no pretenses—got that, this is who I

am and where I’ve been. Yet their ethereal…illusive? You want to know…” Jason sighed unable to define it exactly. Mitch nodded. “Madeline. Even when she was a kid, I was drawn to her. I realize it’s because she had a tough childhood, grew up fast, and yet, she missed out on love and joy, just being a kid. Though we are together now, and have all these talks, all this closeness, there’s times I can’t go where she is. I just have to be there for her.” Jason understood that. He said next, “Thing is, I see the humor in her too, this cool Chic she probably is with Brook. And I think, hey, I relate to women well, I can be charming, I can flirt and maybe she’ll relax…” “But?” “She’s not interested in me. She thinks I’m a player.” “You can’t run from the truth, Jason.” Jason stood and turned, sitting on the banister. “Nope.” He finished the beer. Rocking the swing, idly gazing at him, Mitch said, “If you’re not ready for something more, then it’s for the best. Don’t you think? I mean, you can get the ladies, so…” “Shit.” Jason pushed away and dropped the empty in the bin placed there for it, by the steps. He stood at the edge of them, his back to Mitch. He raked his hands thorough his hair. “Whatever. You’re right. I don’t need to sweat the fact Brook’s friend ain’t attracted to me.” He laughed fake. “My ego can be soothed with a push of a button.” The swing squeaked. Mitch walked over and leaned his hip at a spot beside Jason. “Yeah, we got half a dozen single men in the family. There’s always Nick Peyton. If she’s what you say, half of that, she’ll have no shortage of—” “All right, Dad,” Jason cut him off dryly. He shot him a look before heading down the steps, ignoring Mitch’s grin. “And, Yeah, to what you got me up here to really ask—I felt it— right down to the soles of my feet.” He took two of the steps. “Life’s just full of fucking irony.” When Jason reached his truck, his phone buzzed. He glanced up to see his dad, hip against the banister, texting him. He unclipped the phone and read it. He got in the truck, pulled out and went home. Later he showered; lay on the bed,

tired, dog-tired, and wide-awake. His dad had text’d he and Madeline were driving in and taking them out to dinner on Saturday—tomorrow, so that they wouldn’t have to meet them, with the whole gang there, the first time. He put in quotes “I’ll put in a good word for you.” Ha ha, Jason mentally grunted. His phone buzzed again. He grabbed it from the bedside table. Max text'd from LA where he and Jordan had flown after returning briefly for Ashley’s memorial. (Dad just text’d me. An hour after Brook. What the hell, bro. You need me to come and show you how to get your swag on? Lost your Coburn touch? Finally found a woman you can’t sex in five seconds?) Jason text’d: Ass-hole. Max returned: (Laughing. You giving up?) Hell-NO (Make me proud, bro) Prick. (Love you too, your poor sod. BTW, Jordan says that Brook says you blew a good chance today.) What the hell. Did everyone in the family get a text on that? (Nope. Must go. Jordan is going on in 5. Want my advice?) No. (Was that a yes? Okay, smart man. Change your cell number. Drop the façade, and get real for this one.) What façade? His brother did not answer. Jason tossed the phone and stacked his hands behind his head. Turning it again, he grabbed the phone and pushed a speed dial. “Hello. Briane here.” His voice stuck in his throat a moment, and then he drawled, “Hey, it’s Jason.” “Oh—I—is something wrong?” “No. Yes.” She waited. He closed his eyes—and felt like a damn fool. “Guess you know me from Brook, and it was pretty obvious today that I’ve

had… commitment issues…” “It’s none of my business.” “I can’t change what’s been, but I don’t keep women waiting around for me. They call. Some I dated more than a week. No, not dated. Look…” He sat up, swinging his feet to the floor, staring at them blindly. “I’m not trying to play you.” “You’re Brook’s step-brother. I am sure your private life is your business. I’m sorry—my remark was…” “—Spot on.” He filled in. “I like you. I don’t know you yet, but there’s something…” He could hear her draw in a breath. She finally said, “I’m not here to complicate my life. I have a job waiting, maybe things will work out. Since we are being blunt, this is very important to me for other reasons. It is best we understand each other. I am willing to be… friends. I did not come here to find a relationship, of any sort. I think it’s clear…I’m not your type.” Shit. He lay back again. Jason drawled softer, “I’m coming on too strong, too fast.” “I’m flattered.” “Are you?” “No.” He deduced, “You think I’m doing a, nail the fresh one in town…” “Something like that.” “I’m not.” Silence. “Briane.” “Yeah.” He looked up at the ceiling fan softly whirling. “I got the message. Okay. Hopefully I haven’t turned you off so bad, we can’t jam together sometime, or have some conversation.” “No.” “Great.” He sat up. “You’ll need me after meeting the rest of the gang and they talk you to death. I am good at finding places of refuge. I did it for Brook a few times.” She laughed. He liked the sound of it. Oh, God. He liked it too much. “Okay. I’ll remember that.” “My dad and Madeline are going to ask you and your sister to

dinner tomorrow night. They’re cool, you’ll enjoy them. And…just ignore what my dad says about me…he’s my pop.” “Um.” “Goodnight, Briane.” “Nite, Jason.” He clicked off and deleted his phone of numbers, except family, business, and friends. Wincing that there were so many girl’s numbers. After lying there awhile, he realized he could not sleep. He got his guitar and padded barefoot to the upper deck. He sat for hours, playing, thinking, seeing an image of Briane in his mind. Dude. He could hear Max saying, you are so damn screwed. And, Dude, he would say back, I think so too. **** At Rafael’s Restaurant. Briane loved Mitch and Madeline, as she fully expected to. She had spoken to Madeline on the phone a few times, and after kissing both her cheeks, Madeline took her in a big hug, and then had one for Kiera and Mora too. While they enjoyed a fabulous meal, Madeline engaged Kiera in conversation about food, while Mitch—as compelling in person as he had been on that film, with his slow drawl and easy grin, talked music and the local scene with Briane. Having eaten too much, Briane opted to step out with Mitch for a smoke, while Madeline bought Mora ice cream and she and Kiera enjoyed rich coffee. Mitch laughed when Briane referred to the cigarette as a “fag” though he was used to the various expressions from Brook’s friends during the years she had been in Europe. He let the tailgate of his truck down in the lot. It was a pleasant night, cars passing the restaurant, people going to others and the surrounding businesses. Having worn black slacks and a green blouse, Briane sat much the way he did, against the side, with one leg bent, the other idly swinging. She smoked too, though rarely needed to anymore. It was something she took up when she quit every other vice, but only when nervous. Mitch, his silver hair glinting in the security lights, had on a light blue shirt and levis, boots, and had been studying her while

she talked about her long journey back to her roots and the music she loved, about finding her healing, so that she could do it again. His blue eyes were mirrors of his sons, absent that obvious sexual part Jason had—although several times during the meal she certainly saw it when Mitch looked at Madeline. Once Briane finished what she was saying, she saw the pensive, more serious, seasoned man that Brook always bespoke of in Mitch. He drawled in deep tones, “I’ve been down that road. I died a little, when Madeline left my life. Rhonda and I married for the wrong reasons. I only survived because of Jason being born. He was my salvation, as music was. I drowned myself in whiskey awhile, and tried to burn the pain out. Those glimpses of Madeline, at The Tavern…it was just enough, to keep me breathing.” She nodded. “Jason lived with Rhonda at one time?” “We split our custody awhile, and he tried, went to the schools she wanted, excelled, and played the social part—But by the time he was in high school he wasn’t hiding his reluctance to go live with her and Tex. Whom she’s divorced now. She is married to a young software exec or something; I believe they stay separated more than together. Anyway, she would call, rant because she believed I would use him as she did…as if I (made) him want to be with the family and me, and enjoy the things we did. She hated it when he spoke with a drawl, because she’d refused to let him talk that way in her house, and if he got his hands dirty…” Mitch shrugged. “She wanted him to be a doctor. He probably could have been anything. But when he lived with me, as a single father, I had to take him on job sites, and he just ate that up. The crews would answer all his questions. I don’t know why he chose to be an electrician, but it’s something he’s dammed good at, industrial, residential, you name it. Rhonda hates that, more than anything.” “They stay in touch?” “She calls him. Calls, to go over the same old shit; how he wastes his education and life, and where he could be now, and reminds him he has money, a lot of money, but she puts conditions on it…” “That he live the way she wants?” “Yep. She wants him to come to California and finish his formal studies and probably marry whom she chooses…”

“He seems…well, from what Brook has said and what I observed in home movies, he seems as much a part of here, and the Coburn’s, as you are—it’s so—obvious.” “Yes. Even Max is like that and he has had an Ivy League education and esteemed career. Max has traveled and been in that world and can walk in both equally. Much of that has to do with the difference in Gi Gi who raised him—Madeline, and how Rhonda was with Jason. Namely manipulative. She’s punishing him for his choices. Won’t come see him, withholds her approval and love, whether she’s aware of it or not.” After a pull on the cigarette and releasing smoke, Mitch mused aloud, “I wasn’t a great father. Rhonda and I fought all the time, and emotionally, I was wrecked. I told myself, because of Jason’s blunt and easy ways, that he was okay. But Madeline and I have talked a lot and I know that most the residue shows up after you’re grown, and in your own relationships.” “True.” His light eyes studied her face then met hers as she took a drag from the smoke. Mitch asked, “You had a good marriage?” “A good, but young, one. The kind where I was adrift as I always had been, when I met an anchor. The kind where you’re okay living in anything. As long as crisps and a pint were in the flat, we were good.” She grinned softly. “Adam came from a respectable British family, who let him make his choices and roam as he pleased. I met him at a pub where I worked. He was a parttime waiter. We never separated from the moment we met. We were close.” She looked down at the glowing end of the cigarette. “We moved around, but finally settled when I got pregnant…” “I didn’t know…” “Yes, I’ve not talked of it much. Adam had saved up a bit and bought this rattle of a car, excited to be a father. He was out driving the coast, trying to find a cradle in some second hand shop. He was caught in a violent rainstorm. His car went end over end…” “God. I’m really sorry.” “His parents took me home with them after the funeral and I was a mess. After Liam came, I just got worse…” “Madeline went through something like that…” “Brook told me.” Briane nodded. “But I went the opposite, just

running, drinking, parties…lost. They’ve raised Liam…” There was a silence of words though they could hear other people in the lot, and across the way. Someone’s car stereo throbbed a low beat. Briane glanced up and Mitch, studying her, asked, “He knows you’re his mom?” “Yes.” She crushed the cigarette. “He loves me, but he loves them. His life is there, and his chums. They are very good about everything. More than I deserve. When I traveled, and I got up with Brook’s band, he made me send him post cards. I went to see him and spent weeks with him. However, he would never be all right without his grandparents. They will never be okay if I take him too far away. Nevertheless, I have been on this searching road a long time, and I promised Brook I’d try this. I have to admit that the moment the plane landed, it felt right.” Madeline and Kiera was exiting Rafael’s, Madeline, Briane noticed held Mora’s hand and was making her giggle over something. Standing, as Mitch closed the tailgate, she heard Mitch offer, “I’m Jason’s dad. I am proud of him; he’s a good man, good to family and loyal to friends. He is hard working. Good hearted. Anything I say will be colored by what I know in my bones about him…” She glanced at him. He supplied bluntly, “You’ve got him thinking in circles.” “Me? I hardly know him!” Mitch grinned dryly. “My point, exactly. Give him a chance, you won’t regret it.” Briane started to say something, but Madeline and her sister were there. Madeline was saying, “Mitch’s cousin, Susan, home schools, if you want to do that temporarily. She has five of the kids at her house during the week. She has her masters. Just until you decide if you’re staying? It would be good for Mora to be around kids. They have this big farm past the Old Mill; the kids ride horses and grow things…” “I’ll think about it.” “Do.” Madeline grinned. “I’ll introduce you to her tomorrow and you two can talk, and they’ll be dozens of kids there for Mora

to play with, including the ones Susan teaches.” “Thank you. And for dinner also.” “I had a great time.” Mitch said too, “With the family around tomorrow you’ll be having eight conversations at once, so yeah, this was nice.” He laughed and then squatted down on his haunches, to talk to Mora, saying, “My son Jason lets all the kids come to his house in the summer, to swim in his indoor pool. They take their sleeping bags and watch movies. You’ll have to make your mama stick around, so you can do that too.” “A pool…in his house?” Mora’s eyes were wide. “Yeah. And a huge picture screen…” Mora was gazing at her mother. Briane had to laugh at the eye roll Kiera did. “We’ll consider it,” she said to Mitch, “I’ll keep an open mind.” He winked, then before leaving said to Briane, “You too. Keep that mind open.” After they drove home in her car, when Mora was in bed, she and Kiera sat on the back deck talking. Kiera was still a bit intimidated by the prospect of being around the big family the next day—not that Briane wasn’t, but she was used to crowds, new people, and had her tricks for dealing with situations. “Madeline will look out for you and Mora. I think she understands what an outsider, or someone who isn’t in the family, probably feels around such a boisterous and demonstrative group.” “She said so, when we were having coffee.” After a bit Kiera mused, “Jason looks like his dad, only with the chin cleft, and he has more brawn next to Mitch’s lanky sinew.” “Um” Kiera laughed and got up, touching her shoulder. “At least you’ll know how handsome he will still be at fifty…” “Like I bloody care.” “You care.”

Chapter 4 Copper Creek Jason was still in his black slacks and white shirt from attending church as he stopped by his Dad’s afterwards, to help set up. He carried up coolers, prepared others by the backyard picnic tables, and put two on the porch. GW and Mitch fired up the grill and smokers, and while some of the family went home to change and fetch covered dishes they’d bring, a few were there in their Sunday best—kids too, in the yard. Madeline had changed, and was with Ruby in the kitchen, yelling through the window when they needed someone to come get paper plates and cups or whatever. He left around fifteen till one and blessed the mild seventies day. If it rained, having that bunch inside was madness. He showered, pulled on faded jeans and boots, an aqua shortsleeved shirt, and finger combed his damp hair. Jason had just parked when he saw the Bonneville pull beside the road, behind a cousin’s car. Taking his time, putting his sunglasses on and other stuff that didn’t need done, he stood with the truck door still open, watching as Kiera got out of the passenger side, noticing she wore sunglasses, a pair of neat midthigh shorts and a silk tank, in some silver/gray color. She let Mora out, the child in pink and white shorts and T-shirt, with her curls in pigtails. As she walked around to await Briane, he could feel his skin tightening when her sister did emerge. Wind caught her unbound red/brown hair, fluttering it back. She slid her sunglasses on her head and reached back in to get something. She had on a calf length green summer skirt, white tank and had a sweater tied on her hips—sandals. She took Mora’s hand and they were walking toward the house. “Hey, woman!” Since that was Brook’s voice, and she and Coy were pulling in, Jason shut the door and turned, walking up the steps. When he made the porch, a dozen Coburn relatives lining the banisters, he let himself glance down again, seeing they were all standing on the landing. Coy had the baby carrier and gave them a one-arm hug;

sounded like he was saying something teasing—and looking like he was happy to see Brook so happy. Jason smiled watching Levi kiss both Mora’s cheeks, probably something Brook told him was proper, and something he looked mortified doing. He heard the others laughing who had watched that. Nevertheless, being a Coburn, Levi took her hand. Other kids were running over to greet him. He was doing introductions. It was Remy who eventually hung out with the girl. They were moving toward the house. Jason made himself go inside, seeing through a window that GW and Alvin were hotfooting it around the house in their “Kiss the cook” aprons. God only knew what kind of greeting they had cooked up. “They’re here.” He told Madeline, going around the long harvest table to a cooler, and leaning against the counter with a beer. “What do you need me to do?” She pointed to the table. “Take the wraps and lids off, put out serving spoons. I’ll be right back.” He nodded. She went to the porch, he set about doing as she asked, occasionally retorting to some of the women who moved in and out of the house. “Where’s your blond this week?” His cousin Donna teased kissing him, her belly out—and gazing ready to drop that baby any second. She was with her nightclub Bouncer still, but not married again. “I’m taking a vow of chastity.” He got the laugh expected, as well as some ribbing from those other hearing. “Well at least we can tear up the name chart, now.” One of them said. “We’d decided to make you put name tags on them from now on.” “Hell, not me,” One of the younger ones said. “We just called them, boobs or lips, or remember that one who giggled all the time. Oh—let us not forget the salt lick, one. She lasted a whole day and a half.” Actually flushing when they all went down that road, exaggerating the girls—as well as saying things about him that weren’t true—like doing a swagger and smoothing back his hair, wiggling their brows with a come-hither look, Jason finished and stopped by the family room with his beer, to flip them the bird,

before going out back. Screaming laughter followed that. Ruby passed him, and muttered, “Run while you can.” He grunted and sauntered out back, taking a chair by the grill Mitch used, but apparently had left long enough to greet people. Meat sizzled, smoke wafted, and a nice breeze should have soothed him, even if he could hear voices and laughter from the front yard. It didn’t. Jason was almost glad when Coy came around back, lighting a cigarette and getting a beer. “Where’s Maddy?” “You know that bunch; they’re passing her around.” He unfolded another chair, slumped and smoked. Jason bummed one. Coy eyed him with a cocked brow. “What are you hiding out here for?” “I’m not hiding.” Coy took a pull from the beer, scratched his chin and stared so that Jason was aware he was doing it. Jason grunted and glanced at him, aiming to rib him about the new haircut Brook had him to get, though it looked good. Coy had thick wheat hair. Still, it was the sort of thing he would kid him about. However, what came out of his mouth was, “Briane and I got off on the wrong foot.” The grin Coy wore should have warned him before his cousin drawled, “Heard she blew you off.” Jason snorted. “Who told you that, or is it in the family grapevine?” “Brook told me.” Coy stretched out his legs. He crossed his ankles. “I laughed my ass off.” “You would. I’m sorry I ever put in a good word for you with Brook.” It was Coy’s turn to snort. “Y’all didn’t give me anything but shit.” “Yeah, well.” Jason grinned. After a few sips, Coy said, “She called Brook last night after she had dinner with Mitch and Madeline…” “Yeah?” Coy rolled his head and looked at him. “I couldn’t hear

everything but I know Brook was talking about our schedule at The Tavern, when we were playing and The Mill…” “Doesn’t mean she was talking about me.” “No. But…” Coy stared a moment. “You really interested in her, Cuz. She’s not your type...” “Why the hell do people keep saying that?” “Because it’s true. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but she’s Brook’s friend and we’ve talked, I know how bad she wanted Briane here—she feels close to her and…” Jason raised his brow, insulted. “Brook’s my step sister; just what the hell are you saying. You think I don’t care…” “Hey.” Coy laughed and sat up. “Chill. I’m just saying why even bother. You don’t date serious women or any woman you may have to do more than put a condom on for, and she’s not some nineteen or twenty year old, party girl just looking for a good time. She’s been there, done that, and—” “Damn.” Jason got up and headed for the barn path. Coy caught up and after watching Jason drink, smoke tensely, offered, “It’s not my place to tell it, but she’s got a past, baggage, issues. Briane’s still more mature than your usual. Just scratch this one off and go on. It’s not like you can’t pick and choose…” Jason dropped the cigarette in the last sip of beer and glanced at Coy. “Yeah. Thanks for that.” He turned and walked back to toss it in the trash. Before he headed around to the side of the house, Coy muttered, “A Coburn ego is hell to deal with.” To which Jason replied, “Give me more damn credit than that.” Only later, when they were inside filling plates, Jason had his own prepared and stood in a spot near the microwave, Kiera already had hers and had gone out to the picnic table. Mora ate with the kids beside the house. Briane filled her own, trying to talk, respond to joking, and answer questions from everyone else getting food—She looked up while someone was finding a soda for her, and their eyes held. Jason nodded and grinned, his hand poised holding a fork above his potato salad. She smiled a back and then turned to go outside.

Coy was just beside her and looked back at Jason, then came around to mutter in his ear, under the pretense of getting a napkin, “Okay, so I may be wrong. She waited for that smile, dude. I felt the air crackle.” Jason laughed but he got gut-tense and couldn’t eat his usual amount of dinner. It took hanging out with the family, the kids, and later settling in a rocker on the porch with his guitar, to distract him, and to find his usual balance. Kids ran around the yard, women were either in the den or walking, out back doing their thing. A few on the porch, with GW, Coy, himself, Mitch, and Deege. Two younger teens sat on the banisters, watching people go up and down the road, most of them yelling up a “hey.” As was usual, instruments were opened, everyone had their choice. Jason, his feet propped up, reared back in the rocker, soaked up familiar sounds and scents, the evening sun and breeze wafting onto the porch…honey suckle and wild roses, plowed earth, and home. He strummed idly while talk ruffled and men tuned up. One of the girl cousins had a mandolin and sat in the swing by Mitch. She was home for spring break from college, and Mitch had a rule that any younger ones who wanted to play had to learn the traditional songs first. He dug all sorts of music, but blues, gospel, folk ballads, that was the air he was born breathing. Jason picked up her first bars of (Will there be any stars in my crown), and started playing it. He sang, others harmonized and underneath Mitch was calling out the chord changes to her. Closing his eyes, head back, Jason sang as he oft did, with his soul feeling every word. They rolled easily from that one into other spirituals. Jason sat out one, drank a cold drink while Deege played a few on the banjo, accompanied by lots of hand clapping and foot stomping, and GW rolling out his deep bass on occasion. By the time the landscape lights were on, some of the family left, kids had to be preparing for school the next day. Brook, Madeline and Briane were on the porch. Kiera was in the den with Renee and some others, who had the little kids playing video or watching a movie. Jason left the porch to freshen up, and came back out, noticing Briane sitting in a chair angled from the corner just by the

front steps. There were insect repellent lanterns on the porch braces, so it wasn’t as if everyone couldn’t see each other while talking. They were talking, having general conversation. He slid the rocker back, so that those on Briane’s side could converse with Brook and Madeline sitting in the swing with Mitch. Jason leaned slightly forward on the guitar, pretending to watch the road while he strummed softly and listened to their conversation—Okay, mostly listened to Briane’s Irish accents. He gave himself points for keeping his word, playing it cool, backing off. But that didn’t mean the hair on the back of his neck didn’t prickle with awareness of her. He glanced over finally as Brook was talking about her band, and caught those green eyes on him. He held them a heartbeat, and then looked back toward the road. Talk lulled and Brook said to Coy, who was in a chair near Jason. “Sing to me, love.” Jason rested his hands atop the guitar, glancing at his dad and sharing a wink and smile, as Coy sighed and sat back, his eyes on Brook as he began a slow version of, don’t want to miss a thing, by Aerosmith. Jason looked across the porch and saw Briane watching them, a smile on her lips. When Coy ended that one, Brook hopped up, kissed him, and then sat back down muttering, “One more week, babe.” Everyone chuckled, because they knew what that meant. Coy sang again, then they quit for the night. While they went to get Maddy, he put his guitar down and helped Mitch clean up a bit outside, aware that Briane was inside. That done, he saw Coy and Brook leave, as well as Renee. Inside again, he glanced at the den, saw Madeline covering Kiera and Mora with a light throw as the TV flickered over the pair who had fallen asleep on the sectional. Assuming Briane was in the restroom or something, he told Madeline, “I’ll clean up the kitchen.” She kissed his cheek and went out back to help Mitch. As quiet as he could, he began emptying the trashcans, cleaning off the table and loading the dishwasher. Briane appeared and after glancing at her sister’s sleeping

form, started helping him. Jason started the dishwasher, took the trash bags out back and came back in. He washed his hands, glancing aside as Briane put the last unused plates and cups on the counter and then turned, their eyes locking while he dried his hands. “Your family is amazing.” He dipped his head in agreement. “They are.” Her gaze went over him, then away, in a swift and telling glance. “I should be going.” Jason moved away first, and went out to the porch, tense… finally seeking out Mitch’s pack of smokes, and lighting one. He stood, hips against the rail, gazing down at the dark road, feeling that unfamiliar sensation, telling himself to pack his guitar in the case, head home, not wait out here for…nothing. He drew in smoke and released it, guilty of listening to every sound through the screen door, hearing Madeline suggest Kiera and Mora just stay the night, and assuming Briane asked her sister, because she came out a bit later by herself. Jason did not turn around. Though, God…he wanted to. He could pull off a casual “night” he told himself, when she left. She did not just leave, and Jason tossed the smoke, chewed a couple mints and then turned, offering, “Its dark down there, I’ll walk you to your car.” “Thanks.” Briane was pulling on her sweater. He put his guitar in the case, and waited for her, then walked beside her down the steps, stopping by his truck to put the guitar in it. Turning, Jason caught her staring across the road, arms folded lightly. Under the streetlight, the night breeze ruffled through her hair. For a moment, he could not breathe. Subtle light kissed the curve of her cheek, the tip of her lashes, and glinted in the lifting strands. As if sensing his stare, Briane turned her face toward him, and he experienced that high, intoxicated, head lightening, flow again. Though too dark to see the green hue, her eyes caught light too. Even the shadows on her face, her straight nose and those semi-full pink lips, enhanced the somehow ethereal and yet womanly combination that was so damned alluring… He heard her husk, “What’s wrong?”

Jason mentally shook himself, answering, “Nothing.” but heard the already deep timbre of his voice bottoming out. They headed to the blacktop and her car, Jason keeping to the roadside in case someone came by. Too soon for him, she was by the door, and though he took in everything as if stealing it swiftly—night wind in her hair, ruffling her skirt, the hint of her perfume breathed in his lungs. His heart doing a deep pound, pound, pound, that was as disturbing to him as was that voice reminding him he’d come on too fast already and promised to pull back. Briane opened the door. Jason stepped back. Briane stood there and somewhere in his mind he registered her eyes were going over him, over his face, over his body again, lingering on his face enough—so that had they not had that bad start, he would read something different in it. She laved her bottom lip. They were slightly parted seconds before she was getting in the car and closing the door. Jason went closer while she was rolling the window down to enjoy the night breeze. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he braced one on the edge, getting only a swift glace of her expression. He cupped her cheek with the other. He kissed her, soft, supple, and just enough so she felt his warm breath on her face. He heard her own tense release. He lifted, waited that second for her lashes to lift and then moved away, sauntering back to his truck. He got in it, knowing she hadn’t pulled out yet. He started his. When Briane finally passed by, going up to turn, he backed out and went home. She had been wondering since watching his lips in the parking lot of the clinic, no matter what else blocked her acceptance of the attraction. Yeah, of course he’d felt her gazing at him, over him, staring at his mouth, his throat. He had wanted to kiss her since he met her. Jason picked up that unexplained pull between them, in those seconds in the dark, and followed impulse. **** Briane couldn’t sleep. It was one AM and she was in sweats on the back deck, wanting a stiff whiskey—something, anything she no longer allowed herself to (use) in order to numb up. She licked her lips. The feel and taste of him lingered. She

had tried, tried all day, to ignore him. Jason had not been in sight much, and the family, getting to know everyone kept her occupied. She had enjoyed hanging with Brook, joking around with Renee, and many of the others. She’d had a grand time, and never laughed, never felt so much welcome and good vibes, in her life. Even Kiera relaxed and seemed to find several of the family she bonded with. Of course, some of the single males put unspoken offers out there, all the Coburn’s flirted. She had caught many of the single ones vying to engage Kiera’s attention. She had done great herself—until that look while filling her plate... Then the tension and awareness flared up. Later, she had been on the steps as Jason and the family played and sang. Shaking her head mentally at his deep, soulful, voice, though she’d had heard it a dozen times. The feeling was amazment. When they harmonized, it was spiritual, tangible. She’d not intended to go out there when others left, but Brook asked her to. It only took witnessing the magnetism between Coy and Brook, watching them when Coy sang, to get her own emotions in turmoil again. Her own changed, adult, different emotions—that scared and excited her. Wanting, longing, for that connection to someone again, needing, and afraid to blow this new start. Cradling the cup of coffee she had brewed, Briane eyed the moonlit woods and listened to night sounds. Like any normal woman, her body ached to feel another, and though it hadn’t ever been easy to fight once she stopped partying and starting working on herself. It never felt like this. There were too many things about him…something that made her want to curl into his strong arms and let him hold her. Yet she also felt the sensuality and smolder, the sheer intensity of his focus that got her body hot and aching, and made her head light. She knew from Brook’s letters and his to Brook, they probably had a similar sense of humor. He knew how to have a great time. There was the deeper connection of music… She’d come home, tempted to rifle through those boxes and read Brook’s old letters, to look at the pictures and video of him again. She would not let herself. That distant fantasy was not real. It was something she could use, to stave off falling into another relationship—maybe a bad one, given her unfulfilled needs—it

was an ideal of someone, somewhere. Just look what she had done, though—moved to another country, set in motion a life that would take commitment and settling. She had a job, and Sunny wanted her to perform a set on Wednesdays and before the nine PM Saturday acts—mostly the Coburn groups. This was a dream, getting to be near her best friend, have her sister here, and Mora. Steady pay, nice house, performing the music she was falling in love with again. She’d grown, matured so much, from those years of she and Adam living out of backpacks, going through life as if nothing mattered except that day. Nothing had—until she had known Liam was coming. Briane admitted that young as they were, she had never told Adam her of uncertainties, insecurities, not about how it felt when her Da left, and their Ma forgot about them. Still needing a Ma, living by the skin of their teeth, not always with a full belly—but making it on dreams. She looked at herself then and knew she had wanted more for Liam. Not that Adam wasn’t happy. He was ecstatic. But that all ended… Briane drew in a deep breath and reminded herself that guilt held her down and dragged her to the pit she never wanted to go to again. She had kept a journal during her long road to maturity and periodically sent them to Liam. Swell boyo that he was, he was perfectly settled and happy, always talking about his pals and things he was interested in. He loved her, she loved him. However, she wished she could go back and be grown up back then—and been stronger. Of course, all this was also something she used to avoid the real issues in her life now. She should be able to have a sexual relationship if she chose. At least the ache in her body would be appeased. She should trust herself not to attach emotions to everything… Later, finally in bed, Briane touched her lips. The image of Jason standing there, hands lightly in his pockets, light eyes, ruffled black mane, the way he looked at her—the way everything in her felt drawn to him, lingered into her dreams. He was more than the player she wanted to lump him into. He was a grown man, a mature and a responsible one. Oh, that dark handsomeness and

tanned skin, light blue eyes, sensual mouth…deep smooth voice… was bloody distracting. He scared her. That was the truth. Her attraction had been there even before she met him. Now flesh to flesh it surged up in her, mingled with those extra, he’s a good, hard working, talented, guy, yada yada. Shite. A picture, a face and voice on a movie was one thing, but vivid, smelling, hearing, being near him, she could feel that something tangible. He had charisma, charm, but there was more under that…

Chapter 5 Diamond Back Tavern. “Can you take morning shifts?” Sunny Lightfoot asked Briane as they were in his office. “Yes.” She had already met Nick, liked him, and would meet the staff, who worked nights, because some were in college during the day. Others had second jobs. “They’re pretty slow shifts, but sometimes I’ll need you to switch off and fill in. for now though, I have Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, for you?” “That’s fine.” She smiled and nodded as impressed with Sunny as she had expected to be, and amazed at his good looks. She could certainly see why age wasn’t a barrier for Renee. He reeked virility with the native Indian coloring and build, and a touch of refinement on his French side. He radiated power and confidence the way a lawyer would, while somehow managing to be bloody approachable and friendly. Fascinating man. He handed her a sheet and all the papers she would need for insurance and taxes, then sat back and offered, “Do the set’s we talked about, and if you’re more popular with customers, we’ll arrange something to accommodate them.” “That’s generous of you.” It was, honestly. He flashed her a handsome white smile. “You’re the one doing The Tavern a favor. I have always featured various bands and genres, well—except classical. That, we have the local opera house for. The dance clubs draw most of the younger crowds though there is none for 30 miles. Some Brook and Rene played at. We have a variety of customers, regulars and people who like to come somewhere, have a good time, dance, be entertained, and unwind. You’re bringing something new—and in case you didn’t notice when you were around town, 80% of these folks are Scots/Irish.” She had, and relayed chuckling, “The moment I opened my mouth in the drug store and post office, every O’Leary, Murphy and Byrne in the place came and talked to me.” He nodded. “Mitch’s mother was a Donovan. Did you know that?” “No. But I’m not surprised.”

He stood and put some papers in his briefcase. “Start tomorrow and just leave those papers in here. When you’re off, go back and check out the sound system. I’ll leave the rest up to you.” She offered her hand. “I’m genuinely grateful.” He ignored it and kissed her cheeks, winking and holding the door for her, saying when she passed him, “What’s your sister going to do?” “I don’t know. I’m still working on her, hoping she will stay.” He was heading out so she walked out with him, smiling at a wink from Nick behind the bar. Sunny’s expensive car gleamed. He beeped the security on it, and they stood in the nice afternoon sun, the cars going by regular intervals. “She doesn’t waitress?” “No. she has, but Kiera has more to offer…” Briane debated a second, and then told Kiera’s story. Afterwards, a more serious Sunny regarded her. “Tell her to get her citizenship papers. I’ll fix his ass, so if he manages to track her here, he’ll be picked up and arrested.” She saw the muscle tense in his jaw, the dead seriousness in his dark eyes. He said, “Threatening the life of a child is no joke. We call what he did, attempted murder and kidnapping.” Briane swallowed. “I’ll tell her.” Sunny took a deep breath, seeming to gather himself and then was pensive a moment. When he regarded her this time, something else was in his brown eyes. “Ask her to meet me for lunch tomorrow.” He gave her the café address. “I want to talk to her.” Nodding, Briane realized Sunny took it personal, not only because she was Brook’s friend and she now worked for him, but also because of the lawyer in him. He headed toward his car and turned again, smiling this time, “I won’t scare her. I promise…” “Oh, I don’t know—that look…” He laughed and assured, “I’ve got all sorts of charm on my French side, what you saw is usually reserved for the courtroom. In any case, if she’s as mistrusting—rightfully so, as you say—I’ll be the first one to change that for her.”

“I don’t know what to say.” “Nothing. I’m not just your boss. I insist on being friends— unless I call you into my office for something, then, I’m your boss.” She laughed, watching him get into his car. When he left, she went back and told Nick. “I start in the morning.” His soft brown eyes smiled. “Look forward to it.” He poured them both a coffee and as she took a stool he leaned back against the bar sink. “I read your résumé; you’ve got more experience than I do.” “Ah, but Brook says you’re awesome at this.” She waved to the bar in general. “I was a stock broker once.” “Holy God.” He laughed. “Yep. Had a breakdown and came home, did some art for a while—Ruby’s the true artist. Then, Sunny hired me.” “Why the…break down?” “I’ve never told anyone that.” His eyes moved over her face. “Sorry. Had one myself, rather messier than that—more like a self destructive dive into forgetfulness.” He nodded. “You look together now.” “So do you.” Nick grinned. “I am.” After they talked awhile, she asked, “So, who do you date in the Coburn family? I say that because of the variety of attractive women I saw at Madeline’s Sunday.” “I don’t.” Briane put down the cup, visually scanning over his tall goodlooking frame and the wavy-curly brown hair, the blues under his lip. “Your choice?” “Yes. I was married. I cheated, a lot. Like, a lot.” She laughed but watched his eyes. “Between you and me, I blamed it on my coke addiction—no one knows that, okay. But I destroyed a very beautiful and good woman’s life.” She winced. “Long time ago?” “Yes. But…” He glanced around and back to her. “There’s more, but this is too nice a day to talk about it.” He took her cup.

“Go out, drive around, and enjoy the day.” “Do you ever take time off?” “Yeah, sure. Sunny still likes to work the bar now and then. There’s another young guy who works part time.” “What do you do on your off time?” “Sleep,” he joked, then. “I live in my sister’s cottage house, I swim, do laundry, read a lot, whatever.” “But not date.” He put the cup in the sink and turned as she stood from the stool. “Are you asking me out?” “As friends.” He snorted. “See how fast you put that out there? That’s what I do, too.” Ah, she got him now. He winked. “I’m good with what I’ve got. Sometimes I go to the clubs in the next town and hook up for…” “Yeah.” After she left, having shared some joke with him about normal to everyone else not necessarily being the normal life other people needed at the time, Briane did drive around. She loved the looks and whistles the car received, and planned on telling Jude that. Briane did light shopping, bought shorts, skirts, her black attire for work, black stockings, shirts, black slacks too, and then browsed the mall. She was munching fries when Kiera called. She and Maddy were going to catch a movie. Since Briane was already, there she invited her to join them. “No thanks. You two enjoy.” She told her then what Sunny said. Kiera listened, was silent a bit. Then, “Okay, I’ll meet him.” “Good.” They clicked off and Briane left, taking a country lane then driving back and filling her tank. Early evening she was coming back through town and pulled off at the clinic, spying Brook’s car. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” she called out the window, having pulled up and seen Brook still on the driver’s side, talking on her phone. Brook told whomever, to hold on, and grinned at her. “I am. I

just ran to the school to take Levi his lunch money he forgot.” “Um, and just had to come by here?” Brook’s eyes lit up. “Okay, yeah. Don’t tell Coy, though he probably saw right through me. They have all of our equipment hooked up. We can start stocking and organizing next week.” “Great.” “You start working tomorrow?” “Yep.” “Call and let me know how it goes.” “I will.” Briane got out long enough to talk with her about what Sunny said, and for the first time, to fill in all the details about Kiera, and the incident. Brook nodded. “Take his advice. He knows what he’s doing. Even if the shit never shows up here, Sunny will now take her under his wing. He’s like that. He’ll take a personal interest in seeing she feels secure and that Mora does too.” “I got that feeling. He’s amazing.” “Yeah.” Brook laughed. “You should hear the side of him Rene knows.” Chuckling, Briane shook her head. “I can imagine. After seeing her energy and drive, getting an up-close look at him, feeling his vibe…it really does make sense.” “Yep. It took them awhile but…” Brook’s phone beeped. She answered it and Briane stepped back to give her privacy. She was glancing around when Jason’s truck went by; naturally, he looked over—first at Brook’s car, then at her. He raised a hand. Briane nodded. Bloody hell. “Hey, I gotta run. You and Kiera come out to the lake…” Brook gave directions. “Don’t have to call first but make it after seven, that way Levi’s had his homework over and is settled down, and the baby will be mellow.” “Sure.” “Bring a pint.” Brook winked backing out. “Coy won’t let me touch it, even though I’m not breast feeding or anything. His, you are a goddess, the mother of my child, stage, is making me daft. I can’t wait to have crazy sex and remind him he loves my body like something else—and it ain’t a temple.”

Snorting, Briane waved her off. She was almost in the car when Jason swung in, turned and backed, so that he could talk to her through his driver’s side window. Since he was on the phone… she had to wonder if Brook had seen her first and… “Hey.” He clicked off. “Hi.” Those blue eyes were iridescent in the summer sun. He had on a turquoise shirt that just enhanced the light contrast in them, and his jet lashes… “Family wants to know your performance schedule…” “Wednesday night, and Saturday at eight.” She reached over in the seat, getting one of the cards that Sunny had written on. Stretching, she handed it up to him. Their fingertips brushed, and tingles went everywhere on her body. “We’ll do up some flyers tonight. Everyone will take some. They’ll be posted in three counties by nightfall.” “You don’t have to—” “—it’s what we do.” He grinned and winked. Oh, charm. Sexy…Bloody hell. She murmured, “Thanks…” “When you going through your sound check and set up?” She told him the time. “All right. Someone will be there to work the lighting, and do you remember meeting Josh?” “Had on a UFC shirt?” “Yeah.” He nodded. “He married into the family. Anyway, his two brothers asked if you needed accompaniment, they play anything, violin, harmonica, flutes, piano, bass…” “I’ll keep that in mind.” “You’ve done bigger shows, other than when you were with Brook’s band?” “Once.” She smiled remembering that feel. As a performer, he must have read something familiar in her expression because he said, “Large or small stage, always give your everything, put it out there and they’ll feel it. Whatever it takes, to create the atmosphere, intimacy, to entertain.” That was why she had taken the long journey back to her roots. It was frightening and thrilling, but it was good to have that confirmed by someone who understood what music and

performing meant. Jason was saying, “If you’re any good, we’ll beg you to play at The Mill.” “You won’t have to beg too hard.” “I did the lighting at Sunny’s, updated it, but The Mill is awesome for props, visuals…whatever you feel.” “If I do well this time…” “You will. And sometimes it takes word of mouth, so the crowds get bigger...” “If I do okay.” She laughed doubtfully. “You book me at The Mill and I’ll give those who welcomed me—the performance of my life.” “Had that dream, have you?” He grinned, telling her he understood that too. “Many years ago.” Jason nodded eyeing her more pensive. “Before you lost your ability to feel the music?” “Some of that, but mostly, it’s not being able to show your soul because you cant—everything is broken and gone, so you’re afraid to take it out of that secret place and unwrap it. It is a precious part of you. But, it is so much of you that if you sing and play that kind of music, that is breath and soul, you will lose it…just fall apart. “ Briane drew a breath and released it. “What you’re feeling comes through the words, and so when you’re running from pain, or numbing to it, dealing with guilt, whatever, it’s the last thing you want to tap into.” “This is the first time you’ve performed it live on your own, your own music since…?” She nodded. Not able to believe she had articulated all that at last, let alone shared it, she looked away before glancing back at him. His other arm was on the door. He was gazing at her so intense she could feel it as if he touched her physically. Jason drawled softly, so soft chills went down her spine, “You protect it because you know it doesn’t betray you, music doesn’t leave you, it doesn’t die. You have to reward it, turn and embrace it for being your friend in loneliness, your joy in happiness, your soul in darkness. You trust it, so let it do its magic. Use it—to celebrate

the life you have mourned, let the words flow out, feel everything— so that on the listening ear, it does the same. Let it say, I’ve been there but I’m here now, this is what I felt and how far I’ve come, this is my pain and yours, my joy and yours, my love and yours…” She swallowed and murmured, “Scary…” “Listen to me...” He stared at her, already having shaken her with his understanding her struggle. “Are you listening?” “Yes.” “You take little steps…little breaths, because you know when it flows out, it will carry you away. You want to feel that, love it, the good and bad, the words you sing—use these first performances are breathing lessons. Work up to it, reach further down for it. In two weeks, we’re doing the official opening of The Mill, you go home every night, and you dream—and you see it, feel it, and you bring that there.” She must have looked anxious, because Jason smiled and added just as soft, “We’ll all be there rooting for you, but more than that, you’ll be singing our lives, our struggles, and our triumphs. Most of those you met Sunday have been were you have, and more.” Ignoring the fact her palms were damp, she was actually trembling, and Briane stared her hands on the wheel a moment. “Do you do that, when you perform?” “I give my all, yes. But I entertain too. There are times when… when it is more than just putting on a show. However, because as you commit to doing that, being an entertainer, you bring it, no matter how you are feeling. But, yeah…probably, only those close to me know it. As I know, when they are singing from heart and soul. There are times when music is your lover…” She glanced at him again. He supplied softly, “You open up, let it flow in, breathing, feeling it inside out—you’re reaching for that consuming feeling… the rise to the peak. It both makes you high and leaves you drained…satiated.” “Interesting analogy.” He looked away a moment and shoved a hand through his hair. “Isn’t it just.” “What?” “Nothing.” He cast her a diminutive smile.

“Thanks…” Jason nodded, his wrist resting back on the steering wheel. He wore a sport watch on that wrist. The sun lit on his black hair and warm skin. His sensual lips were enhanced by that dent in his chin… Briane could stare at him for hours. She mentally grunted, hearing, “Purify me” by India Arle on his CD stereo. The good beat was subtle in the space. She loved that song. Freking was moved by it, every time she heard it. The look in his eyes, holding hers when the words (Easy like Sunday morning’, like an angel callin’ He’s taking me all in, I am embracing him with my skin. Like a glimmer of light, like a vision of life and he's so perfect that I couldn't picture him if I tried “Love that song.” He nodded. “Spiritual.” “Yeah.” She looked away a moment. The CD must have been a mix because an old blues song came on next. Jason cleared his throat as he sensed her attempt to break the mood, or maybe, shake his own. “Had dinner?” She glanced at him. “Fries for lunch.” “I won’t risk rejection and ask," his tone was teasing, light, “But I’ll recommend Rafe’s, even if you do take out.” “How is he?” “Talking to Sunny. I’m sure he goes out driving around, hopefully not drunk.” She chewed her lip. “I’ve been there. It’s a dark place.” He studied her a moment. “You ever want company, a listening ear, call me.” After a beat. “I mean that, okay?” “Yeah.” Lord, he scared her now. Really, scared her. She had to remind herself that just a few days ago she accepted he had more women than five men could juggle. This part of him was too much like Brook had spoken of, too much like she had imagined years ago. His analogy about music and a lover. ..Jaysus. She would hear that in her head for a while yet. Briane shot him a fake smile. “I need to dash, got a few things to do.” Oh, how fake that sounded too. Panic time. He glanced at his watch. “I’ll see you around, probably at The Tavern before we’re at Dad’s again.”

“Yeah, and thank everyone…I had such a great time.” “We do that every Sunday, although, sometimes there’s some fussing and going on, you’ll know them well enough to take it with a grain of salt.” “That’s family.” Jason held her gaze long enough to relay he knew exactly why she was in a hurry to suddenly leave. “Drive careful.” He pulled out first. She went to Rafe’s and did a to-go, going home to soak, shave her legs, wash her clothing, for her first day of work. She closed her eyes in the dark and muttered, “Music is not the only thing that gets in your head and soul. Bloody man. Making love with words, indeed. Open up and take it in—” Briane moaned and rubbed her face in the pillow. That was adult kind of lovers talk, the mature kind of sexual depth she had yet to let herself delve into. Bloody man. He tapped into her on too many levels.

Chapter 6 Sunny drove toward Rafe’s, having called and told him he was bringing by tax forms he needed to sign, dealing with the Restaurant. Rafe was going in some nights when he could not sleep and working in the office. He pulled up to the white Victorian, glad to see the lawn mowed and landscape neatly done. Sunny was twice as relieved—when Rafe stepped out looking like he was going somewhere or had been somewhere—There was a few weeks there Sunny had come by and Rafe was passed out on the porch, having lain there all night. Getting out with his brief case in hand, he noticed that Rafe was pouring iced lemonade—No one could make it as good as Rafe. He was in dark stylish jeans and a nice deep blue shirt. “Hot one, today.” “Yes.” Rafe handed him the drink then motioned to the wicker chair. Sunny took it, putting his briefcase on the table between it and the loveseat Rafe took. While he drank, Sunny casually noted that though leaner, a bit darker around those naturally bruised eyes, Rafe looked pulled together—thank God. He and Ashley had finished much of the remodel, performing miracles in Sunny’s opinion, since he thought Rafe was crazy for buying the crumbling house in the first place. While he couldn’t see through the window, he could smell cleaner. He was also going to assume the mess it had been in the first time he would come by after Ashley died, was cleaned up. Rafe did little but drink and pace. Rafe confided—albeit drunk—that he felt like he had killed Ashley, though making the decision to turn off the life support was merciful. “You going out?” Rafe had been gazing out in the yard, and those dark eyes still held a bit of being in his head haze when they turned to him. “Goodwill. Ashley once told me to take her things there. And I drove out… to spread her Ashes.” Sunny nodded, remembering that he had said Ashley loved going to an overlook and just spending the day there…it was the perfect thing to do. There were a number of reasons why Sunny took hope in

that. After meeting with Kiera, he started getting a germ of an idea that seemed just the thing to light that spark in Rafe. He knew Rafe better than anyone, and Rafe needed something to remind him how far he’d come, and of his dreams… Sunny put the glass down, and got the tax papers out, watching while Rafe looked them over, then lay them atop the brief case to sign them. “How are you doing?” “I’m here.” Rafe shrugged and sat back, arms along the back of the loveseat. “I’m glad. Everyone’s…” “I know.” Rafe drew in a deep breath. “I talked to Madeline this morning. Told her I was sorry…” “Rafe.” Rafe’s handsome face turned away a moment. “Everyone’s been great, cards, flowers and calls...” He sighed again. “I finally read through every one of them last night, and sent out thank you cards for the food and all that.” “Ashley was full of energy and life, Rafe. I knew her well. You and she shared something special, but she would hate it if you destroyed yourself, and just quit your dreams. She loved her friends, and you have those same friends.” “I know.” A moment passed, before Sunny changed subjects. “You haven’t met Briane, Brook’s friend, from Ireland yet.” “No. I know Brook was thrilled about her coming here…” Sunny used that opening to talk about her working at The Tavern, and to mention her debut performance. He moved from that to, “I met with her sister Kiera.” Then, he told him Kiera’s story. Giving him time to absorb that, Sunny drank from his glass, having seen Rafe frown and shake his head. “You remember what it was like, all those years you dreamed of opening Rafael’s while working at The Tavern to save for that… work toward it. Because you wanted to do it on your own, prove you could…” “Yeah.” Sunny observed a slight smile on Rafe’s lips. “Kiera told me the education was something she took advantage of; to get out of where she was, make good money. But

once she got pregnant… she had to work at whatever she could, just to make it.” “Raw deal.” “Yes. She also said, when she started coming up with ideas with the catering, the more it came together, the more she felt like that was her thing. It was something she loved.” Rafe nodded and glanced at him. Sunny held that look. “You interested in partnering with me— in the catering business?” Rafe laughed, admittedly a rusty one, but he eyed Sunny with a knowing grin. “This is you, Sunny, rescuing people, making them get up and fight and taste their dreams again.” “Maybe.” Sunny smiled back. “If it’s in my power to do that, why not?” Rafe shook his head again and glanced at the yard. “Go for it.” “I will— if you will.” Rafe murmured, “I have my hands full with the Restaurant. And with all that’s happened, I’m just now at a place where I know I need to get my ass back to work.” “That’s what Ashley would say.” Rafe did not dispute that. Sunny offered next, “I changed the direction of my career, sold my estate, made a hell of a leap in my personal life, moved to the new place—so I could actually have a private life. I have The Tavern, and a stake in your place, stocks, and other real estate. The fact is, Rafe, she’s young, twenty-four, mature yes, has that kind of intellect that you don’t doubt for a moment she’d have gotten that engineering degree. But more so, she reminds me of you…” “Me?” Rafe looked at him. Sunny shrugged. “Came up rough, like I told you, her father left the family, mother was overwhelmed, she was forced to be responsible for her. I gather her brothers scattered, one in the military, but the others she implied were in and out of trouble. Kiera got that scholarship by working for it when her home life was shit. Just a kid herself—someone should have been taking care of her—but no one was there to do it... And what happens? The first guy she dates, knocks her up and walks. And her life is in

shambles again. She starts building it. she takes care of her daughter…waits tables, cleans flats, finally gets a taste of the dream and loves something, believes she can finally have something…He shows up. I tell you, even though Briane described what he did, the harassment leading up to the night he threatened Mora—you just had to see Kiera’s face telling it. She reminds me of you—because, even though she is smart, she has instincts. She might be reserved, less trusting, again with good reason, but there is savvy, street smarts, under that. The kind you get surviving, working toward a dream, because you know only you can make it happen.” Rafe sighed and got up, walking to one of the braces and leaning there, hands in his pockets, while he gazed distant. Sunny murmured, “She’s really not a runner, Rafe. She doesn’t want to spend her life hiding from him, starting over and over. She is the kind of woman who wants to work and build something, who will. I have started her citizenship because I made her understand; he cannot take her daughter—and if Kiera’s afraid he can, she needs to take all the steps alleviate that fear. To have the laws protecting her rights. I don’t think he will come here. I’ve some contacts and they’re checking into it, but a guy like that either ends up dead or in prison.” Rafe responded thoughtfully, “Did you offer to invest in a business with her?” “Not yet. I’m a lawyer. I wanted to hear her story from her. I trust my own instincts. Wanted to make sure she’d stay “ “Did she tell you she would?” “No.” Then how do you—” “— You answer that one. If someone tells you, I believe in you enough to invest in your dreams. Give you a fresh start, all you need to build it, own it, because my instinct tells me you’ve got what it takes to work for it…would you try and reach one more time?” A moment passed. Rafe muttered on a laugh, “Damn, Sunny —I don’t know how you can be such a bulldog in the courtroom, and such a softie in life.” “That’s easy…my Mother.”

Rafe looked over his shoulder. Sunny got to his feet and came to stand beside him, and looked outward too. “All of her life, the social pages were full of the charities she supported. When she did some event, a dozen papers wrote about it. However, I will tell you something, between you and me— Mrs. Dupree was born rich, money was always there. She said she watched her acquaintances indulge themselves to the point of destruction, obsess, self obsess—and all my life, Rafe, I watched her play two roles, the one she couldn’t escape because of that wealth, and the other…where she observed, paid attention, listened to total strangers. Mother did not see race, and economic or educational background, any barrier. She would be putting gas in the car, or buying a pair of stockings in the drug store and overhear something, and very privately write out a check, make a call, change someone’s life. It wasn’t always grand, not as building libraries, hospitals, things she did that would make the news. Sometimes, it was paying a debt, buying a car, groceries, whatever. However, when she was dying, you know how she insisted on everyone laughing, being happy, and doing her usual, telling the private nurses where to get their hair and nails done, when to start wearing white, and where to buy designer knock offs? Sunny laughed. “Even then, she would look at me and I could hear what she was saying, (see Sunny, it’s not enough to have and do, you have to really care, really see. Because you have and others don’t or can’t—you can never get so wrapped in your own pain and circumstances, to be deaf and blind to it.” Turning, so that he faced him, Rafe leaned his shoulders on the brace now. “It’s a wonder you don’t get taken advantage of.” Sunny laughed. “Ah. That is my Indian side, my father’s blood. That is why I became a lawyer. Gives people pause. I’m no fool, Rafe…” “No. You’re a great man.” Sunny shot him a dry look. “I don’t care what my obit says, like my mothers, listing my career and charities and businesses. I care what you do. And what people like Kiera do, with their future —with their now—every day, live life, really live it.”

“You’re trying to say I can do what you do?” “Why not?” He eyed Rafe. “Aren’t you proof that you can make it happen?” “Yeah, well.” Rafe walked over to sit again. “Losing Ashley isn’t some kind of punishment, Rafe. When people are in your life, you are going to experience and feel hard things. Look how long I’ve waited to say, okay, it’s all right for me to have a woman I love, build a life with her, and enjoy that more than anything else.” “Why did you, wait?” Sunny supplied, “I didn’t find what my own parent’s had. Hell, you know I resisted, but I almost believed there was a trade off. There’s not. You are too young to stop living and experiencing, dreaming and getting on with it. Ashley’s passing will leave a fissure in all of us, a place only she filled with her endless energy and the friendship and love she gave. I am not saying mourning isn’t right, I still mourn my parents. But do what you draw your strength from—what you know, you should be doing.” They talked more, on a variety of things, Renee and Brook, and the clinic—Maddy, the other Coburn’s and work. Finally, right before he was going to leave, Sunny heard Rafe say, “You talk to her, and if she’s interested, call me. I’ll meet with her at the restaurant.” “Good.” After he got in the car, Sunny leaned out and reminded, “You should go see Brook and your God Daughter. Come by The Tavern for Briane’s performance. Her sister will be there and it would be a good time to meet her casually.” Rafe did not answer, but Sunny felt encouraged. So much so, he released a long breath on the drive home. God. He loved Rafe like a son. He had been scared shitless these last weeks, knowing Rafe’s background, afraid of what Ashley’s death would do to him. Although Rafe was a grown man, mature, he just did not know how his mind would work between the grief and the tequila. After calling Renee, to remind her of their dinner date, giving her an update on things, as she had really liked both Briane and Kiera after meeting them. Sunny went to a café he frequented, and while enjoying a coffee, called and talked with Madeline a long time.

Madeline said before hanging up, being on the speakerphone because she was canning jam or something. “God I love you. You’re the second best, most amazing man in the world.” Sunny chuckled. “I won’t ask who’d be the first.” He heard Mitch call out, “You better not.” Then, “Hey, Sunny?” “Yeah, Mitch.” “I envy Madeline her friends.” “Ha. GW wouldn’t dare call me a cornbread brother, but I’m unofficially your nephew in law.” As Mitch guffawed at that, and Madeline groaned, “Oh—God I never thought of that” Sunny ended the call by laughing and saying, “Will do a nice, bonding—lunch, Uncle Mitch, real soon.” **** Rafe, after Sunny left, carried the glasses and things inside, feeling less depressed for the first time in weeks stepping over that threshold. He had cleaned and thrown out empty bottles of Corona and tequila he did not remember drinking. The drapes were opened and the restored wood floors cleaned. It had taken two days, since so much of what he touched, reminded him of Ashley… of their working on the house, and his watching her hang those drapes or stain the floors, and going with him to pick out the front sitting room furniture. He had cried until his guts hurt, and then cried some more. After cleaning up the kitchen, he went up the polished stairs and to the bedroom. There were a few spare boxes from his taking her things to goodwill. He’d packed away the sheets, spread, everything else they had decorated the room together with, and gone to the department store, buying new; different, sheets, spread, rug, everything. He’d gotten torn up doing it, recalling some odd conversation one night when they’d been sitting in the floor, eating Chinese, after working all day—an out of the blue comment, she’d cloaked in her usual droll humor—telling him if they broke up or she died, he’d better promise not to keep some shrine to her memory. Or, hang onto shit, as she put it. She thought that kind of thing was morbid because her father had apparently died in a room full of her mother’s things—having shut himself up with them after her death. He had promised not to

do that with the same humor, but it had taken him awhile to build up to it. Rafael picked up the boxes and took them back down, then went to the guestroom where he had put Maddy’s gifts. He had bought them when Coy asked him to be her Godfather. Taking up the white packages with pink ribbons, rattles decorating that, he headed back down, got his keys and headed to Brook’s house. He did not feel ready to, but he knew he had to push past that. He had a business, people who worked for him, and there were friends he had known were worried about him. Rafe had friends he needed to talk about Ashley with. He needed, desperately, to be reminded of the good things—things that would banish the image of her last days and hours from his mind. Driving, the window down, he felt a little shaky and out of it from the lack of sleep, drinking, and haunting of those last hours— the fact he had to make the decision to let her go. The doctor told him, she may linger a month, longer, but the brain injury was beyond repair and the trauma, almost every bone broken, had brought on strokes too. It was a nightmare. He had never prayed in his life like that. Shaking the darkness off, Rafe slid a CD in the slot and breathed in and out. One-step at a time….one breath at a time…. Oddly enough—it was Coy who had said that to him, his arm around Rafe’s shoulder at the memorial service. In a trance through the whole thing, Rafe was just now remembering things like that. Coy had added “And when you can’t walk, my friend, I’ll be here, lean on me.” Rafe shook his head. A year ago who would have thought it? Now, he was comforted by that friendship, damned glad to know Coy meant every word of it too. Not a day went by when Coy did not call, sometimes just to leave a message “Your Goddaughter had her first rice today” or “Your Goddaughter spit up all over Levi’s toys. You shoulda’ seen his face.” And this morning’s call, “I’m taking Maddy out to buy new shoes…she’s got Coburn feet.” Brook called too, but he thought maybe she didn’t know Coy did so like that. He wouldn’t have credited Coy with being one of the strong and compassionate Coburn’s, though Coy had raised Levi seven years on his own, been places, came home, and he’d

had his own pain over the mess with Karla. Yet he saw that depth of love for Brook, for that child in the delivery room. The big man cried, and held her like a precious jewel. That he shared it with Rafe was amazing too—despite what happened later. Now, he knew Coy was reaching out to him the way everyone else was; only he was using his own way of doing it—knowing they had oddly bonded too going through those tense hours with Brook’s labor, Coy having privately expressed his fears during the pregnancy with the diabetes and all. Yeah, they had reached a place of unspoken brotherhood. Coy was thankful to have Brook and her love, and he knew privately that Rafe stepped out of the way, so he could have his chance— Giving him the honor of being Godfather to Maddy was Coy’s way of saying it knew that. Yes. Rafe could have made it more, and he would always love Brook, but he knew with the core of his soul that she loved Coy Coburn. They were soul mates, had been probably the moment they met—if not for Coy’s mistake…. Rafe had made a decision and he’d let her go He had loved Ashley too. Ashley knew that secret. They didn’t speak it, but he knew that she figured it out. She was the kind of mature, giving, and exciting woman he had needed then. Between her and the growing closeness with Coy, he had healed any old lingering feelings about it. He had asked Ashley to marry him—and could have been happy, would have been. Nevertheless, she always kept that distance, never committing, although giving her all every day with him… It was almost as if she knew they didn’t have forever. Rafe felt that hollowness in the pit of his stomach and drew in a steadying breath. Yeah. One breath at a time. He could do it.

Chapter 7 “You like working the pub... er...Tavern?” Briane glanced at Kiera over her chicken salad. “Love it. I enjoy the customers—even if most of them call me Irish, instead of my name.” She grinned. “Nick’s the best guy to work with too. He knows everyone, and they hang out half the time just to talk to him at the bar. He is an interesting man, seriously. Like his sister, Ruby is. Only she is more crack-you-up amusing. He is a little quieter, so you have to engage him. Still, I like him.” Kiera nodded. “Nervous, about performing tonight?” “Anxious, excited,” Briane admitted. “I’m glad you’ll be there.” Kiera would be taking Mora to Susan’s. Mora, excited, already had her things packed and was watching cartoons. “I’ve decided to let her join Susan’s home school class, at least until she catches up with the other children her age—learn a bit about America. Then, Brook says, she’ll go with me to put her in Coy’s school for some summer classes to catch up.” Mouth opened, eyes shining, Briane was already rising from her chair to hug her, “That means—you’re staying!” Laughing, laughing hard, because Briane was half dancing her off the breakfast stool, Kiera supplied, “Yes, although I’ve got more news.” Leaning back, holding her face, Briane demanded, “What, tell me!” Kiera told her about her meeting with Sunny, and added, “He also asked me if I was interested in an investor, for a new catering business.” “Oh. Lord be praised!” Briane screamed and then was dancing her around the kitchen area. In between giggles and all the hopping, Kiera managed, “He says I’ll meet Rafael tonight, maybe. And that Rafael would be the main investor, so he wants to meet me and discuss it.” “I love America! I love these blessed folk! I love Sunny Lightfoot.” Briane had stopped dancing her, but she was hugging her again and talking fast, “You have to do it. A new start! A new dream…it’s like a bloody dream, but you can do it.” When she was free, Kiera smoothed her short silken hair

behind her ears and skimmed her hands down the sides of her denims. Her eyes were nicely made up—but filled with trepidation. “I’m bloody scared to death. I cannot believe it. I kept telling him, you have done enough, offered enough, and I don’t know where to begin. But, he was persistent. “That’s Sunny.” Briane laughed. “And Rafael… Brook called and said he came to see her. She said they talked until after midnight and he held little Maddy. How wonderful is that? I don’t know him personally, but I loved him, because Brook did, and I’ve heard…” “Yes.” Kiera grimaced with a smile. “I saw a picture of him.” “Well, maybe this is what he needs. You must not think you can’t do it. Of course, you can. He built Rafael’s from his own vision, Brook said. So, it is not as if he will just throw money at you and leave you to it. He sounds, by all accounts, like a man who does things right. Besides that, you are new here, no one will expect you to know how to go about everything. Oh, I’m so happy.” “So we’re staying then?” They both turned to look at Mora, standing there gazing between them. Briane went and grabbed her face and kissed her. “Yes, yer staying. You will have loads of friends and learn all sorts of interesting things. And your Ma will be the greatest caterer in the world.” Mora looked happy and before turning back to await her mother said, “I’m glad we’ll stay. I like it here.” Meeting Kiera’s eyes Briane said softly, “There, ya’see, everything is perfect.” “That’s why it feels surreal. It’s almost too good to be true. First Sunny takes an interest, sets everything in motion, and then he offers to finance a business with me—” “And Rafael…” “Yes. I have been to the restaurant, and it’s the most popular place around. Brook told me his background. I can relate to it, but before I had a partner—this—I have to sell it on my own.” “If you believe in it, in yourself, if you want a good life here, you’ll do it. I admire you, Kiera. You were much stronger and steady than I was at a young age.” Kiera shook her head. “I had days I wanted to give up. I

wasn’t all together.” “But you kept going.” After holding hands a moment, Kiera drew in a long breath. “I’d better take Mora on to Susan’s. You need some time to dress. I’ll see you there. I am likely going to cry. For all I had my head in books, Briane, I envied you that outlet, the music you could make.” “I love you.” “You too.” Kiera left her and she and Mora were busy gathering what they needed, so Briane ran her bath. She called Brook while still in her robe, and told her Kiera’s news. “I thought something was up. Even though we talked of everything, mostly Ashley, before he left, Rafe asked me questions about her. Sunny knows him better than anyone, and he knows what Rafe needs. Though he’d already come to the realization he needed to get back to work, I gathered what Sunny told him stuck in his mind.” “She’s a bit nervous.” “Well, if Rafe is going to back something, he’ll walk her every step through it. He knows the area and the kind of clientele she would have. He is personal with his customers so he will definitely have enthusiasm worked up for it long before she is ready to start. He knows the chefs and business people in the area. Don’t worry about her; she’s in the hands of two the best men I know.” “I know that, I feel good about this…” “Are you pumped for the show?” “Yeah. Just running my bath now. I’ve decided to do traditional, familiar tunes tonight, since it’s a short set and I’m getting my feet wet.” “They’ll love it.” Brook laughed. “Try and enjoy yourself. I happen to know you’re super awesome, so by the time you get comfortable with everything again, you’ll be blowing people away.” “Thanks. I hope.” They talked a bit more and then Briane took her bath. Afterwards, she used mousse to sleek her hair back tight, and in a tail, tying a black ribbon in it. Her outfit was black hose and shoes, a green and red plaid skirt, mid thigh, and a green mock turtleneck, in silk. She applied her makeup, a touch of liner, earthy shadow, and glossy pink on her lips. She put on her dangling

earrings with whimsical stars, and grabbed a shawl that matched her shirt, before leaving. Briane drove with Celtic music in her head, thinking of Josh and his brothers—who had stopped by and worked with her on lighting and sound. She wouldn’t use them tonight, but she had a plan, and they were pumped about it. The young man, who would work the lights and sound, had been gazing though her tablature and sheets. It was while they were talking music and mood, and where she would stand tonight, or sit, that she remembered Jason inviting her to play The Mill in two weeks. Musicians, artists really, the men had, with usual Coburn charm and interest, drawn her out about her past performances, the band and shows, and her one night of playing in a grand concert hall. They understood music, understood roots and soul. Somewhere in that hour of conversation, they began helping her visualize what she wanted to do. Although she said, it would depend on how she was received tonight, and Saturday’s set, and next Wednesday. They assured her it would be great. What was so amazing—is that they were willing to work hard with her, and bring two of the other young Coburn’s in. They were excited, almost as much as she was. Not tonight though—tonight she would play an upbeat and entertaining set, calling to her Irish roots and theirs. She needed to do it this way and she instinctually knew the first who came to see her, would want to hear those tunes. She wanted them to know, she was playing for them. **** Jason wanted to leave early for Briane’s set, but resisted. He had already spied most of the family passing by. Coy and Brook were going early, since though a weeknight, it was a night out for them without Maddy, who was babysat by Donna. He had his coffee, was dressed, all but buttoning up his blue shirt. He stood out on deck, hair drying, resisting the urge to call and wish her luck. Brook was her best friend, so she would need to see her first tonight. Besides that—he was mulling with some aggravation on the conversation he had had with the cousins; Josh, his brother and a couple of the younger ones, he’d run into this week. He had tried to casually ask how the sound check went and all...

That got a, “fine,” from Josh. However, when a look passed between them, he asked, “What’s she doing?” “Traditional, upbeat. Smart choices.” One of the others said, “I like her a hell of a lot.” Which got Jason’s full attention. There followed a stream of information about how they had gone through her music, talked to her about it. He could tell one of Josh’s brothers—a good-looking bastard—had more than a thing for her. He kept talking about her wit and jokes, how they had laughed a lot at her expressions like shite, Jaysus— and Hoor, which apparently came up when someone mentioned Karla and that mess. They talked about her buying them a beer, and they played a bit together. Again, one of them shot some kind of secret smile to the other and gave him an elbow—which made Jason, grind his teeth. “We’re working on something…” “What?” “Can’t tell anyone yet. Sworn to secrecy.” “But it will be awesome. Freaking awesome” Jason stared at Paul. “Sure you can tell me.” “No. you’ll see. I think we can pull it together for opening night at The Mill.” Another said, “Never been done here, that’s for sure. But hell, she started talking about the music and we went through some she’d written, a whole notebook full, and James, you know his fixation with Celtic culture and all…the ideas were just flowing out.” “Cool.” Jason had tried to hide his envy and curiosity; it was obvious that his instant attraction to her had prevented them having any such rapport. Moreover, this bunch, as musicians, Coburn’s, they had enjoyed an hour with her, got enough from her so, that they were willing to commit to not only playing accompaniment, but whatever the (freaking awesome) thing was. Cody, twenty-one, and fresh out of university, going through his) it’s all about the art, stage), seemed to vibrate with excitement. It was no secret that even though most people here had Irish blood, including themselves, she fascinated them because she was born and lived there. Shit.

He thought about the kiss. Didn’t regret it. Wanted, to do that, and more. Her lips were soft, sensual. He thought abut being razzed for changing his phone number. Of course, the family noticed. Girls were still calling, driving by. Still stopping him everywhere he went, and flirting. It was not easy to be cool about it, or to blow them off, given he was also an entertainer. Jason buttoned his shirt, went inside for his keys, and thought about how to regain his footing. And how—not—comfortable it felt, to be the one not sure of himself. His natural flirting nature and hot blood, wanted to seduce her, sex her. Shit. He was going to be a little late—because he had to recover some lost ground. Jason got in his truck, went a couple of places and did his thing, before he finally pulled into the crowded lot of The Tavern. The bar side was thick with customers, and he caught Nick’s eye, nodded, and mentally cursing because before he entered the back, he could hear her talking. He had missed the fucking intro. The young man working the door recognized him, and Jason recognized most of the Coburn’s, once he got inside. He leaned against the wall, seeing Brook up front taking pictures. Coy, Madeline, Mitch, most of the family seated around her. The spotlight was on Briane. He could tell the back tables were full. Finally able to focus on Briane, Jason eyed her slicked back ponytail, nice make-up, and those lovely pink, glossed lips. It was all subtle. She had a natural blush to her cheeks. Right now, she stood at the mic; a twelve string was on a stand within reach. He smiled. She had great legs, nice in the black hose. The plaid skirt was just short enough. He wanted to touch that blouse, the silk, no sleeves, and mock turtleneck. A fan blew on her and it fluttered enough for him to make out grapefruit sized breasts. Great body. Great legs. Jason got a little lost, gazing at her face. He wished he could see her eyes better. She was saying, “Anyone in the place Irish?” The whole room erupted in yells and claps. Briane grinned. “There’s a tradition in our homeland, of buying rounds for the house. First round is on me.” Stomps and claps met that. “I’m getting you sloshed—before I play, ya noticed.” Laughter. “I aim to bring you a bit of the homeland tonight—music, that

is in our roots, and tunes you will perhaps recognize. I love all genres of music, have played in many pubs and bands over the years, but I got away from my roots. Life, bad times, sometimes takes us down a long winding road. Fortunately for me, I found my way back.” Everyone clapped. She cleared her throat and smiled. “Getting there…Someone told me, it’s like taking small breaths…” Her head turned and she caught Jason’s eyes. “So if I pass out from hyperventilation, blame that fella.” She pointed the light hit Jason. Jason grinned, heard his name hollered and shouted, his family was rolling with laughter. He winked at Briane. She winked back, and picked up the guitar, putting the strap on, talking while she strummed a bit. “If you know the words, sing with me. If you don’t, hum. If you can do neither, tap your feet.” A grin split her face again. “Of course, any Irishman worth his salt, can do all that at once, and drink his pint too.” They loved it. Jason straightened and moved a bit, so he could be more in front of her, finding a spot between Coy and Jude. Sitting back, he saw her eyes close for a split second. She drew a long soothing breath while her fingers picked out the first notes. The hair on his arms rose at the beauty of her face. She moved her head in a way that told him she was feeling the music. When Briane opened her eyes, her lips parted and she began to sing. He could feel everyone in the room attend her. Even though she sang a lilting tune, it was obvious her voice held fascinating modulations. Jason honestly could not decide what captured him more, the shorter phrases, or when she held the longer notes, but she added something, a flutter that was pure and sweet between a longer ranges that was haunting. People were singing with her, and she was gazing around, nodding to some of them—a real natural. Her foot in the stacked black shoes tapped. Between breaths, she smiled. When she ended that one, stepping back, the whistles were ear splitting. He saw her gaze moving while she grinned, as if memorizing every face. “Thank you.” She stepped up, wet her lips, and finally looked

right at him as she waited for the applause to die down. The light on her was softer amber. Jason felt that skitter over his skin, getting the full effect of her eyes and face with her hair pulled back like that, and her supple lips when she whispered something in Gaelic in the mic. Coy nudged him. “What did she say?” “I don’t know, use your I-phone and find out.” Coy did, and Jason laughed, curious, but was watching Briane as she began an upbeat ballad. He was just as impressed with her guitar skills as he was her voice. She tapped it on and off like a drum, strumming or picking, she did that as natural as singing… “That’s some voice…” His uncle Jude leaned over and murmured. “Never heard anyone like her,” Jason replied honestly, his whole body had goose bumps. She finished that one, and gave the clapping time to die down then said, “I’ll be needing a beat, so four–six dancers, come up here.” She pointed to the floor before the stage, as the lights went up. Jason was surprised to see Mitch get up and go, along with four other men. Briane winked. “This is your beat.” She played it on the body of the guitar. The men began the traditional mountain clogging, which was a mixture of Scots and Irish dance. A young man on the end doing “shoe shine” and Mitch doing what was called flatfootin’. He heard Madeline yell, “Go Mitch.” The beat rocked the club, pounding cowboy boots on the floor in a rhythm that sounded like drums. The lights stayed up, Briane began to play, watching the men. Everyone was whistling and yelling, having a great time. Jason shook his head, having not seen his dad dance since he was a kid. Mitch was impressive. Half way through the song, Briane told everyone, “Clap now…” and as they did, she took off the guitar and picked up a tambourine, tossing it out toward the tables. Someone caught it, and began to play. Briane hopped down, grabbing Mitch’s hand. She danced

with him, her footwork more complex. Mitch threw back his head, laughing as she danced around him her hands clapping to keep the beat. Jason watched her face flush and dew, her white smile flash. When she went back up to finish playing, half out of breath, he could feel the joy and energy in the customers—and in her. They were having a blast. That song ended. Briane pat her face with a cloth and grabbed water, drinking while applause sounded. Blowing a breath, she leaned in the mike and confessed, “Sucking wind.” They laughed. She said next, “My time’s almost up tonight, I thank ever blessed one of ya, for showing up. Come see me again sometime.” They clapped. “I’ll take a request as my last, tonight.’ She found a stool and sat on it, gazing out into the crowd. Jude called out, “Fhar A Bhata (The Boatman) Briane nodded and waved to him. “Come and sit with me.” Jude went up, grabbing a stool and sitting beside her as she played the simple tinkling like chords. Jason knew the moment she opened her mouth, why Jude asked her to sing it. It was beautiful on her lips, her voice, and even when Jude sang with her, Jason shook his head at the beauty of it. His uncle had heard the tones she had held back in the more lilting tune. She did not look at the crowd, but at Jude, and he at her—her true Irish accent able to enunciate the Gaelic parts. Jason could feel the absolute hush in the room…. ( How often haunting the highest hilltop, I scan the ocean, a sail to see, Will it come tonight, love, will it come tomorrow, Will it ever come, love, to comfort me. Fear-a-uata, no horoway-la, Feara-uata, no horoway-la.) The ballad ended as soft as it began. Jude stood and clapped. Jason and everyone else were on there feet, giving a standing ovation. She set the guitar in the stand and bowed, smiling and taking it all in. Briane’s eyes, the shine in them, the lingering glow from singing those songs of her culture, was breathtaking. Jason doubted another in the room was staring and noticing as he was, but he could get lost in those eyes, in that soul….

The lights went down. He could see her come down the stage. By the time she was enveloped in hugs by Coburn’s, praise and smiles, the jukebox was blaring. Jason ordered a beer and went back to stand by the wall, watching her hug, shake hands, do autographs. Many of the family had to leave having work or school the next day, but they all hugged her and praised her. He noticed Rafael, and felt a sigh of relief the man had come out to see her. Rafe was talking to her and Kiera, who had just hugged Briane. There was some conversation, and then Kiera and Rafe were over by a table talking. Briane signed a half dozen more flyers and listened to people who wanted to talk to her. Jason said goodnight to family who passed him leaving. Everyone was talking about how much they enjoyed the music. When his dad went by, he murmured to Mitch, “Not bad for an old man. Mitch laughed, “I think I strained something.” Madeline piped up, “I’ll feel around and try and find it when we get home.” Mitch whispered in her ear, so Jason just shook his head and looked back in time to see Briane was on stage, wiping her guitar, putting it in the case. He went over and reached for it. “Hand it down here, I’ll carry it.” “Thank you.” She gave him a look, picking up water and then catching up with him as he took the back exit. Out in the night, it felt pleasant and not too hot. Only a few people were in the lot when Jason walked to the back of the Bonneville with her. “It was a great show. Great is an understatement.” She glanced up from putting the guitar in the trunk. “Thank you.” “You’ve got an amazing voice. You’re a natural performer.” “Coming from a man with your talents and experience, that’s a nice compliment.” He grinned. “It’s the truth.’ Jason leaned against another car as she opened the door and took out a pack of wipes. She dabbed her face and a bit around her eyes. Done, she leaned against the car facing him, and

blew out a breath as if she had been holding it awhile. Her gaze scanned his face then came back to his eyes. Cars were going by; music could be heard thumping from the club faintly. Jason smelled her perfume while he took advantage of her gazing at him to say, “I’ve a gift for you.” “A gift, for what…” “Your first performance—in America.” He shrugged a grinned. “Your debut…” She opened her mouth, her eyes searching his, but Kiera calling her name had them both turning their heads. Rafael was walking with Kiera, and Jason moved to go greet him, and give him a hug. “Good to see you out.” Rafe said, “I’ve been around. Went to Brooks’.” He nodded. Joining the women, who were talking, Jason heard Kiera saying she and Rafe were going out for coffee, they could not hear each other talk in the club. “I couldn’t hear myself think inside either. But it’s so good to finally meet you.” Briane shook his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.” “Thank you.” Rafael smiled faintly. “Brook talked about you a lot, back when you two were in the band.” “Good times.” Briane grinned. “Most of the time.” “She’s happy you’re here.” “I am to be here, too.” He nodded, “I enjoyed your performance. It was like going to a celebration, a fiesta, where everyone is good friends.” She grinned. “That’s what I was aiming for.” Jason was gazing at Kiera, who wore dark denims, ankle boots and a silk shirt. Her highlighted hair was tucked behind her ears, make-up done nice. He decided where Briane was part earthy, part ethereal, something that could contain both dark, wild, and soulful, Kiera was the more introspective and cautious—yet there was an intelligence in her gray eyes, and a kind of energy all of it’s own around her. She glanced at him a moment, catching him gazing at her. Jason gave her one of his softer smiles. Kiera smiled back, no blush or flush, and he felt that sharp mind probing, as if she was taking the moment to read him, to assure herself of something….

“Sunny and I are considering investing in a catering business,” Rafe told him when the sisters spoke again for a second. “Kiera started one in Dublin.” Jason knew much of the story from Jude. “That means she’s staying…” Kiera cut in, “I am.” She peeked Rafe. “Please, don’t feel you have to commit yet. I realize I have to prove I am capable of making it happen and making it successful. There’ll be a learning curve for me…” “We’ll talk.” He nodded, his smile assuring. He waved to Jason and nodded to Briane, saying before leaving, “I’ll see her home, safely.” “She’s going to be worth it.” Briane ignored Kiera’s blush. “She’s smart, works hard…” “I don’t doubt it.” Rafe actually chuckled, hearing Kiera groan. The couple turned and walked toward Rafe’s car. When Jason regarded Briane, she was watching and sighed, “I hope this works out. She deserves so much. She’s worked so bloody hard…had to give up everything.” Briane glanced at him, so he admitted, “I know some of the story.” Briane told him the rest, and afterwards Jason shook his head. “I’m glad she came here then. Things will be better. She’ll make it.” After a moment, he straightened and told her, “I left your gift at the house…” “Your hou...” “—No yours. I’ll follow you.” He headed for his truck, thinking brazen, bold, inviting himself. But, hey, he was not going to play timid now. He felt like it was up to him to make all the initial moves. Jason waited for the Bonneville to roll out the exit, and then pulled out behind her. He did not over think during the drive, because he wanted to be as relaxed and casual as possible— even if his insides really weren’t. Her show moved, excited, and enlightened him. He still felt like there was so much more he wanted to know. He parked on the curb after she pulled in the drive. Getting out, he caught up with her, to take the guitar. She went in the front. After Briane put the guitar down, he said, “It’s on the deck…”

She peeked over at the glass doors and back at him. “Excuse me, a minute.” While she went back toward the bedroom and bath, he opened the sliding doors. Jason lit the globe candles around the quilt he’d put down, and then started a CD in the stereo. The food he had gotten was in a warmer, so he set it out picnic style on the deck, and got two glasses for the wine. She appeared in the doorway. “How’d you know I’d be starved?” He snorted. “Brook can’t eat before a show. But eats like a field hand afterwards. I’ve been there too.” He waved toward the plates and trays. “Sit, and enjoy.” She sat, having washed her face and repaired some makeup, and taken her hair down. She had also taken off her shoes and stockings. “Smells wonderful.” He poured the wine and offered a toast to her. They sipped before they filled plates. Jason kept the talk casual, easy, letting her talk about the performance, her music. With his legs out and ankles crossed, the plate at his hip, Jason watched and listened at the same time, feeling that (oh, son, you are really getting hooked) feeling, because he liked her voice, her expressions—and she had some witty ones, true. Her slang was amusing as hell. He asked easy questions, kept things flowing and when she finally cleared her plate with a groan, he put it all away while she offered, “Coffee is on me.” The coffee was brewing. He excused himself to freshen up, mentally taking time to give himself a, so far so good, check. He joined her again. Briane sat with her back against one of the chairs, on the blanket, and he joined her slightly facing, thanking her for the mug of coffee. She had fixed it with sweet cream he had never tried, but liked. She gazed up at a nice sky, sighed, that, I did good, sigh. When her eyes met his, Jason smiled back, understanding. “Did your husband perform?” He asked in a casual way. “He played sometimes. Keyboard. Gigs were tough to get, and not very good pay. More seasoned musicians get the better ones.” “Does your son have your talent?”

Her eyes held his. “I think so. He is in the boy’s choir. The spots are not easy to be chosen for.” Jason asked a few questions that would fill in some blanks about her young life. He could tell she didn’t talk about it much— but then again, there likely weren’t people who asked private personal questions, and he sensed she needed to talk tonight. “Do you have pictures of them?” “Yeah, sure.” She put down her mug and got up, going inside. He turned on the back patio light. When she returned with a small box, kneeling on the blanket, he sat on the edge of the chair where he could hold the photos she handed him under the light. “Oh—man. Now there’s a smile you have to love.” He chuckled deep. “Isn’t it just. Liam’s smile would light the world.” She rose on her knees, her shoulder touching his arm as they studied the snapshot. The lad was built lanky, tall; his hair was dark and thick, eyes lighter, green, he thought. He smiled with his whole face. Sifting to another, Jason laughed. “School pageant?” “Yes. I think he was supposed to be a vegetable…peas or something.” The top part of his costume-all green-dropped down, and he was in the motion of pushing it back up. “That’s his school uniform...” Jason touched the emblem on his jacket in another one. “I hated those…” “He’s used to them, I think.” “He’s…how old?” “Ten, almost eleven.” Jason glanced at her. She met it and then lowered her eyes, handing him another batch from babyhood on. They were cute; at the playground, swimming, typical kid pictures, and the baby ones. Liam’s latest ones were of a boy at that (tween) stage, showing promise of handsomeness, in his good bones, and coloring. One of them had her in it. He studied it for a long time. She seemed sad, too young. Pale and thin, a kid herself. He handed them back. “Your husband…” “Adam.” She dug through the box and rose to her knees, holding the picture to the light. “It’s the last one of us…”

He drew in a breath. “God, Briane, you were both just kids.” “Yeah.” She touched the picture in a telling way. Jason mentally shook his head. The young man was tall and lanky, good looking, and dark haired. His hair was short, spiky cut in a grunge style, and he had an earring, some sort of tattoo on his neck. They had their arms around each other and were wearing retro jeans, military fatigue type jackets, standing somewhere in an Irish city, in front of a Pub. Someone must have taken it for them. “You were eighteen?” “Just.” “And Adam?” He studied the guy, finding it difficult to comprehend such a young man had died. “Nineteen.” He handed it back, watching her as she stared at it. Her eyes were moving over it as if to find the memories and call them forth again. Finally, she sighed. He whispered, “I’m sorry.” “Me too.” She put the picture away, the box still there, as she got her coffee. “We were so young, who knows if we would have had years, or a forever. I’d like to think we would have.” “Probably would have.” She bit her lip and sat back, gazing around then at him. “Okay, I feel sometimes we may not have. We were kids, and we had not really anything to look out for, but ourselves. When I realized I was pregnant, I felt the sense of responsibility. He was happy, but we were not tested by the reality.” Her thumb brushed the mug. “I was. I failed.” He sat down on the quilt. “How so?” Jason picked up the cup, watching her as he sipped, listening as she talked about her grief, and her mistakes. “I told myself, it was to get back to work, to singing. But I was drinking, partying, and wrecking myself. It was like…trying to drown out the pain. And then I’d wake up ill, look at Liam, and feel the guilt eat at me.” “His parents helped?” “Yes. They were devastated, but having Liam helped. They nurtured me too, or tried.” She shook her head. “I wish I hadn’t… Nevertheless, Adam was the first person to come into my life and care about me. The first to love me. Maybe it was young love, but I

didn’t know how I would make it without him. I didn’t want to.” Jason let her talk, and as she did, he formed a picture of it in his head. He understood it. He could hear the struggle and guilt, and he thought maybe Adam’s parents were wise people. They had seen how young she was, and the greatest help they could give her was letting her find her way out of the dark herself. It sounded as if she had by the time she got up with Brook. In fact, she said Brook reminded her of Kiera, and they helped each other, listened, and were there for each other. With Brook, she said, she learned to laugh again… He gathered there were (boys) during that—before the band, partying, and she hinted they were a blur, something alcohol perpetuated, not lovemaking, not nurturing, something as a result of the drinking, blackouts—that she hated too. He sensed Briane was going to say something else, but she paused and murmured, “The letters Madeline sent, pictures, the e mails from your family; it was a daily ritual for us, Brook and me, to go through them. We’d hole up and laugh, cry, it was…” “What...” She shook her head, an interesting expression behind her smile. “I’ll be right back.” As she took the box back in, he went to change the CD, liking her collection, and digging the fact, she was into much of the music he liked too. He made a mental note to borrow some of the Indy group CD’s he saw and listen to them. He was always open to finding new music and sometimes underground or fringe bands had the most talented lyricist. He was headed outside when he heard her muffled curse and a thud. Frowning, Jason walked toward the half opened bedroom door. “Everything okay?” There was a laugh in his tone. “Yeeah.” She sounded breathless. “Just knocked something over…” He started to walk away and actually heard her muttering, talking to herself in more Irish slang than he could translate. Something rattled and then thudded. “Hey, are you sure—” Jason pushed the door open, peering into the lit room, not spying her at first but finally doing so, on her knees by the bed picking up scattered pictures. “I’ll help with that.”

“No!” Her head jerked toward him, her eyes huge. He stopped dead, chuckling when she grabbed a pillow to cover the stack. “Hey, I promise not to tell if you’ve a porn fetish…” His teasing fell on deaf ears, apparently, because she got to her feet, leaving the half-covered pile. “They’re fine; I’ll pick them up later.” Jason’s eyes twinkled as she came toward him, obviously trying to back him out the door. “Pictures of you, are they? Done some amateur lingerie modeling...” Laughing, hands on his chest, she pushed and insisted, “No. they’re not me, and they are not porn. Now, let’s go back and…” Because she barely reached his collarbone, Jason could see over her head, although he did back step, he could not resist trying to see what she was freaking out about in photos. “Stop that. I told you, there just….old pictures.” She was laughing as she pushed. He resisted in the doorway. Smiling down at her, Jason murmured, “Then why are your cheeks red. Your eyes are even dilated.” “They are not.” He put his hands over hers, that were flat on his ribs— Their smiles faded at the same time. A step outside the doorway, Jason felt those hands under his attempt to pull away. He watched her eyes change too, her breathing. “You feel that?” he husked softly, not talking about his pounding heart, but it was. He was speaking of the heat and thick tension, the crackle. “No...” He let her lift her hands but held them, making her stay close to him. Gazing into her green eyes, that flushed face, seeing her wet her lips, he added, “There’s a tremor in your hands.” “You’re imagining things.” Briane’s snort was supposed to be condescending. Her perfume teased his nose. Jason tested her by lowering his head mere inches, his gaze holding hers, watching her close. He husked, “You smell wonderful.” She swallowed.

His lashes dipped an inch. “Such haunting eyes, Briane. Such beautiful skin and your mouth…” Breath scuttled out of those pink lips. She jerked her head back, pulling her hands from his hold and rasping, “Its time for you to go.” Jason straightened but did not break his stare. “Your pulse is fluttering.” “You startled me. Coming into the room…” “Yeah? Why is that…?” He smiled a little. “Not again.” She laughed breathless and made as if to walk past him. Jason caught her upper arm, his thumb caressing her skin. She stared ahead so he leaned and whispered deeply, “After your set on Saturday. We’re playing. Stay. I want to hang with you in a different atmosphere…” She looked at him, her eyes scanning his face, expression torn. “Jason…” He liked her saying his name, even if she said it in a way that was reluctant. He tugged a bit so that she stood near him again, the light from the room allowing him to gaze down at her. “Ask me. Ask me if what I had is any more intimate than what you described. Anything more—than something physical. No, it is not. If you haven’t had an adult relationship with a guy, you know the other is not nurturing and moving you. Women want the man on stage, maybe. The package. They don’t want the me they don’t know. I don’t let them know. They weren’t relationships.” “Jason…” He slid his hold softly down her arm so that their hand clasped. Searching her eyes, to see if she heard him. He murmured, “Tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me you didn’t the moment we met at the airport…And don’t lie to me, Briane. I won’t lie to you.” She wet her lips, and for a moment looked down, then lifted her chin, so their gazes linked once more. In hushed tones, she responded, “You know women are attracted to you. They’re’d be something wrong with me, if I wasn’t.” “So you’re attracted. That’s it?”

When she just stared at him, Jason let her hand go and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, loosing a long breath before he opened them again. She stood there, and he was desperately trying not to feel a kind of sick devastation. Surprised that it did feel that intense. He murmured, just as quiet, “This honestly feels to you, just like anyone else you’re attracted to?” He knew what he was feeling, and could guess some of that showed in his eyes, but Jason couldn’t help it. He leaned his head back gazing slightly up. “Briane, please, this is not about my ego…” “I can’t do this, Jason.” Lowering his head at the sound of her tight tone, he saw her lean against the facing and rub at her forehead tensely. Her expression hid from him. “Make love with me.” “What?” Briane’s hand fell away, face turning up to his. “I can’t tell if you’re protecting yourself, lying to me, or really blowing me off, I can’t…” He shook his head and knew his real emotions were showing now. “You’re attracted, you say. Make love with me. I’ll make up for every bad experience you’ve had.” Reading something in his eyes, she whispered, “What’s that supposed to prove, and to whom? I have said I haven’t had a relationship in years. You know what that means. I want. So that only proves that the attraction and my being intimate for the first time in—forever—” “—Yeah, you’re right.” He did not like that raw sound to his normally deep smooth tones. Jason straightened from the wall, and decided that was as good an exit line as he could manage. It was her hand that landed on his arm this time. He was tempted to ignore it before it got any worse for him. However, he cared too much, why she stopped him, and so he glanced at her. “There’s some line in your mind between a woman wanting you, and really wanting—you. Isn’t there?” “Of course.” Briane searched his eyes. He let her, though he could tell that she was surprised by that. She murmured, “And you flirt and have sex and give them the performance they expect—” When he said nothing, she asked, “How do you know or rather why—do you assume, that everyone you do that with,

doesn’t want something besides that…” “I know.” “I think you protect yourself with that thought. I think…you want, and that is all well and good, you are a healthy and virile man, but I don’t think that’s all you want. And because you don’t want to know—why—each one isn’t someone who really gets you, you deliberately go after a type…” After a few seconds, when he heard night sounds and someone’s dog barking wafting through the back doors, Jason murmured, “What do you want me to say to that, Briane? You want me to go digging through my “why” emotions with you. You want me to talk about what I feel, aside from sex and attraction, when you’re telling me what you’re feeling is that I’m just another guy?” He shook his head. “It’s not going to happen.” He went out and packed the things up, sliding it to the other side of the deck where he could pick them up another time. When he looked up, she sat on the edge of the chaise, smoking and watching him. Jason could read her body language. He wished he didn’t give a shit. He wished he knew how to laugh this whole thing off… He went over to her though, on his haunches, in front of her. Jason took the cigarette from her fingers and took a long pull while their gazes locked, speaking silent things, different things, than what she had said in that hallway. He blew the smoke and handed it back to her. Lifting his hand to her cheek, he pulled her head toward him—and kissed her. Later, he would call it a kiss like none he could remember. Mostly because, he’d never felt something with anyone like he did Briane. At the moment, he was caught up in the softness of her lips, the moment (she) was the one to part her mouth first, and taste him. That was sweet fire, so many things with just mouths and tongues. It went on and on, until he turned his head to catch his breath, still cupping the back of her neck, their cheeks side by side. “If Kiera wasn’t coming home, I’d ask you to stay.” “I know,” he husked and felt her shudder, not letting himself go through the whole, would it really be just sex for her again….? Jason felt her fumbling and heard the hiss as she dropped the cigarette in an empty bottle. Her arms were around him. He felt

the heat of his skin, that drugged state the kiss put him in—and he felt just enough tremor in her, just enough in the way she embraced —to turn his head and kiss her again, soft, hot and sensual. He rolled his tongue through her mouth, tasting the ache and sexual need so exquisitely that he pulled back enough to tug her lip with his teeth and taste those pink pedals with his tongue, before giving her shorter ones. Her breath panted as tightly as her hold on his shirt. He leaned back, the heat and tight tension also leaving a trembling residue inside him, and between them. Her eyes were, glittering. Her expression was the kind a man imagined a woman might carry—after a kiss like that. While their gazes held, his hand slid from her nape and he rubbed her back a bit. “This isn’t going to go away.” Her breath released shallow. He murmured, “I’ve never felt like this, exactly like this. Have you?” Her head shook subtly, though her eyes were showing a struggle between hiding the truth and helplessness to the intense attraction. Jason let his hand slide round, his gaze searching hers while he touched her soft lips. “You’d better tell me now, lies—tell me to walk away, because everything in me is screaming that you’re gazing at me like you feel me, know me—like you want me…” She swallowed and reached for his hand, bringing it down, but not letting go of it for a moment. He gazed at her bowed head, could feel she was trying to gather herself. But she hadn’t let go. Was in some kind of internal struggle with herself. Jason husked in his bass tones, “Trust me with what you feel. At least, give me the chance to show you the side of me that’s not other people’s perceptions. Earned or not. Briane… I understood everything you said about the road you were on. I can’t show you anything different, unless you let me in.” Without raising her head, she whispered, “I don’t want to make a mistake with you, Jason.” “The mistake, for both of us, would be to ignore this. And, I won’t be one.” Freeing his hand, he kissed the top of her head then unfolded his tall, muscular frame. Briane stood at the top of the deck stairs as he left. How

much she wanted to believe him, it, the possibility, and how scared she was of what he made her feel…

Chapter 8 “Max and Jordan will be home for the opening of The Mill.” Brook told Briane that next week. Having met up on her short lunch break, they were at a picnic table by the small restaurant. Brine smiled. “That’s wonderful.” “Yeah. They wouldn’t miss it. Max is worried about Mitch.” Brook talked about his having to fold his construction company, “Though Mitch is a rock. Been putting everything into making opening night as great as last year.” She said after a sip of soda. “I hear your show is a big secret?”’ “Not really. I just want to equal the quality that your band, and others, will bring to the stage in my own way. I’m the only one woman performer.” “Well, the whole family has been bugging Josh, Cody and them, and they ain’t telling nothing.” Brook laughed. “Drives everyone nuts.” “They’ve been great, coming over in the evenings. Josh says we can pull it off. I don’t know. But I get excited when they do.” “I cant wait to see. I’m well enough to play with the band, so we will do ours around seven. And before I forget, while Jordan’s in town, we’re doing a girl’s night, okay, you, and me, Kiera, Renee.” “Sounds great.” Brook asked, “Would you do a song with me, at The Mill. It’s something special I really want to do?” “Sure.” “I’ll call you. Donna is out. Her feet are swelling and with the temperature we expect, it’s just too much on a woman that preggers.” “I’ll be glad to fill in.” “Knew you would. We got a drummer, but Donna and I were working on the song. Renee is doing most of the lead, but she is constantly ragging me about not singing more often. I do okay, but I really miss you—even though you hid on drums most of the time. …” “I do too, miss us sharing the stage. I wasn’t hiding, it was Dillon, remember? He had an ego bigger than any stage we could play on.” They laughed. Briane added, “What is it about lead

guitarist?” “He was good looking, hot with the chicks, so...” Yeah. Not that I minded. I had a blast when we did get to sing together. “You make me sound good.” Briane snorted. “When it comes to pop, rock, you have the lead voice. You’re just too frecking modest.” Brook rolled her eyes. They talked about Briane’s set that night, which would be a mix of ballads and up beat tunes. Saturday, Briane would perform two of her original songs…just to test the audience for it. Briane pushed her tray away and sat up, scanning around and thinking it would rain most of the week, according to the weather. It suited her mood lately. “Hey.” She glanced at Brook, who looked better, good actually, and more relaxed. “What happened between you and Jason?” “What—? ‘’Briane, this is me, your best friend.” Briane took a moment to clear away their trash. She finally told her about Jason’s gift—the surprise deck/picnic/ and the hour he was there. Also, what was said, and how it ended. “And the kiss, how was that?” Briane met her gaze. “To use one of your expressions, it tore me up. I don’t know how it happened or why he even turned to look at me. I was pretty sure I had pushed the limit challenging him with his own defenses, throwing up mine. From the time I thought he would see those pictures, read something into it; I was in a grand panic. By the time he walked outside, ready to go, I was screaming in my head, what are you doing, you can have something with him. The other half saying, you are too screwed up still. He’s a guy who can and does, get any girl he wants… Just everything rising in me. But he did stop—and that kiss; tender, passionate, sweet, and hot. I felt him giving to me. I was trying to give to him. I have never felt something like that—never actually tasted emotions. Somewhere under that, I wanted to be rolling round, necked, on a bed, with him.”

Briane’s brow rose, her lips smiling a bit. “I know exactly what you mean.” “Do you?” Briane was so relieved. Brook took her hand. “I do. It explains what’s been up with Jason this week. Coy said when they went through practice, Jason was distracted, intense, and that his humor wasn’t there.” Briane shook her head, and glanced at her watch. She would have to get back soon. “I didn’t sleep well. Laid there all night, going through that—I can have a sexual thing, I’m an adult, and I can trust myself not to attach emotions to it, conversation, with myself.” “I’m not going to tell you not to. Not if the chemistry is that strong. Everyone needs that physical closeness and intimacy and you two obviously feel it pretty intensely.” They stood and walked to their cars. Brook added, “But if you’re that drawn to each other—I don’t think you can hide yourself from him, any more than he can from you. I don’t think—that’s, such a terrible thing, Briane. “ Briane had her door open; glancing across the roof of the car at Brook, the sun ruffling her hair from the clip she had it in. “I understand what you used to say over and over, about Coy—that he takes me apart, comment, when you both feared what you felt, and needed him, wanted him. Someone touches you, looks at you, and speaks things to your soul, kisses you—you respond from your core. You know that you will. It’s scary.” “Yes. Until you trust, it is. Trusting yourself, too. When it is good, the coming apart is—mind blowing. When you are in the unsure stage, the scared part, you hold back until you cannot anymore. You don’t regret it, even if you’re still uncertain. Things like that, don’t come with every man, every relationship…” Briane told her, “The intensity makes it even harder for me, though, Brook. He has everything hard to resist. Yes, the whole package, but also that ability to appear like he’s totally focused and into you. He draws your complete attention. He could seduce a woman at fifty paces with that combination of sweet, sexy, male —thing.” Brook supplied. “I’m not unaware of the Coburn charisma, and Jason has always had it in abundance. But. I can tell you, the other things he said to you—no—I doubt seriously he’s ever invited

a woman into his private emotional space. Just like you say you struggled, it sounds to me like he knows this is different and deeper. Jason was more real, actually—more vulnerable, with you then, than he is with anyone.” They said goodbye. Briane finished her shift. She smiled, joked, and enjoyed conversation with Nick, before going home. She had a lot on her mind. After picking up Mora, Kiera told her, “I’m headed to Rafe’s. He’s going over some projections. Mora can do her homework there. Sometime, in the next month, he wants me to go with him and check out the competition, get some ideas. He’s looking at houses just outside town…” “Sounds like progress.” Briane smiled, waiting for Josh and the boys, to come over for practice. “Yes. At least we need to know what the costs will be, and where the best locations are. He doesn’t like the idea of a building in town. He’s got six potential houses, two story, very southern, double porches—and though the kitchens would have to be remodeled, Mora and I could live in the upstairs.” “That would save you a lot.” Yes. Tonight we are going over real numbers. It is a shite economy to start a business in, but some of the better neighborhoods, including Sunny’s, still have grand parties and events. There is the usual clubs, and athletic things. Weddings. It’s a matter of having them choose ours instead of others, so it’s going to take knowing the niche we’ll need to carve.” “Thought of a name yet?” “Something simple. I feel like I’ll know it, when I know it.” Briane nodded, hugging her and then winking at Mora. “Enjoy your evening.” An hour later, Briane took a break and she and the “boys” were sitting out back, discussing the music they had gone over. “We need to do a run through at The Mill, which will be tricky to keep secret. I think we can bring Mitch in on it... He’s great at keeping mum, eats that shit up. That way, we can go through, work out any kinks or get rid of something that sounds good on paper but doesn’t work…” “All right. You have my schedule. Just let me know when.”

Briane sipped her beer. She had costumes to think about, and props, although one of the younger guys, the one seeped in Celtic culture, was having friends and family work on most of it. One of Josh’s handsome brothers, a long and lean-hipped, brown haired guy, who always dressed stylish, was something in the sales field—had been attentive to her from the first. Briane noticed tonight that he smiled and talked to her more often, the others seeming to give him the opportunity to. It was tough for her, because he was really nice and interesting, and interested in her. She was flattered, seriously, but did not want to encourage him. It was that (difference) in her mind, that clarified for her that evening, that she did feel all the mutual potency with Jason Coburn, while finding other men attractive, enjoying their charm and flirting—having none of the struggle and temptations, though. After the break, they used the deck, as small as it was, to fine-tune their performance until they could actually go through it on stage and know where their marks were. At the end of the night, she walked out with them while they were putting up instruments. The guy, James, lingered a moment, glancing over landscape lights and murmuring something about the nice night. She murmured something back. “Jason, Coy, Deege and Jude, couple of cousins, are playing at The Tavern Saturday.” “I know. I do my set, then there’s an hour before they come on.” “Always a good crowd for them. Even more, when Mitch plays too. They do a mixture of country, pop, rock, blues, just about everything people dig.” “I’ve seen footage. Brook sent it…” “Yeah. That’s right.” She glanced up to find his nice brown eyes on her, and said softly, “Jason asked me—to stick around…” “Oh.” He looked away and scratched his chin, then back at her with a dry grin. “Can’t compete with Jason. He is almost as popular on The Mill website and Face book as he is here locally. Not, like he doesn’t have an easy time, with girls who don’t even know he sings and plays.” She tried to decide if that was a (I am just informing you) or what. Briane responded finally, “I’m not a girl, in any of those

contexts.” He studied her face. “Not his usual. You’re too mature and smart to stand in line…” She shook her head. “I don’t think going there with this conversation—is a good idea.” “Sorry. If Jason’s interested in you, that’s interesting.” She laughed. He did too. “Wish I could think of something bad to say about him, but the fact is, he’s rock solid.” He sighed. “He must like you a lot, because he wouldn’t risk causing friction with Brook, or any of the family, otherwise.” She didn’t say anything to that. She was absorbing the instant and intense stuff herself. He winked, chuckled again and muttered, “We’re a competitive bunch, naturally, but just the fact Jason is interested and you’re not his usual—well, you know—just the fact he is, tells me there’s something already there.” Before he headed to his truck, he offered in parting, “Look forward to our next practice.” “Me too.” Briane wouldn’t have commented on the— something already there—observation either. She was relieved he wasn’t going to compete, as he put it. She wasn’t at any stage in her life to handle that. Turning to go in the house, Briane groaned —and wondered how long it would take before the whole family knew she had turned him down and used Jason to do it? He was probably calling them as he drove home. Hey, did you know Briane is hooking up with Jason… Oh shite. **** Jason worked out of town Wednesday and barely made the last of Briane’s show. He sat at one of the half moon bars, watching from the side view. His mind kept drifting to the kiss, and her words in the hallway. His mind drifted a lot these last few days. He remembered that riot of feelings that made him turn around and go back to her. He’d never felt so drawn, so intense toward someone like this. He had that whisper in the back of his mind… that this could be it…. She looked great. Her hair was down, just windblown enough to be sexy, and tucked behind her ears. She wore black silky slacks, an amber blouse, and hoops in her ears. The last two she

sang, he sensed were her original songs—one was a lullaby, the last one, a folksy tune. Her ability to tell a story, and make you feel it, was a God-given, gift. No matter what the emotion, she could draw you in. Jason heard the applause; and observed the crowd held a dozen more fans than last week. She did her thanks and came down to mingle. He had been drinking a soda, and turned on his stool to watch her. It didn’t help his brooding mood, that his mom, Rhonda, had called before he left for work this morning. She had somehow gotten wind that Mitch’s business folded—probably from family members still in the area. She went on for an hour, relishing his Dad’s situation. When she started in saying it was trying to keep up Madeline, he had gone the hell off. It was not a pretty argument to start his morning with. Not when she had backed off Mitch and started in on him. She had said, “Don’t you think you’ve hung around that family long enough? Doesn’t your father’s situation prove to you there is nothing there? How much work are you getting, not much I’ll bet, because half the county is unemployed? The place will dry up. It’s no where to start a future.” He had said something to the effect that he loved it here, and he was getting enough work. She had tried, “If you don’t see the light soon, Jason, you’ll destroy any chance of me helping you.” “I don’t need your help.” “You know what I mean. I will not sign that money over to you, unless you get your head out of the Coburn’s asses and start acting like the intelligent young man you are.” “Very classy, Mother. I do not want your damn money. Take it, get some therapy, and get over blaming Mitch and the Coburn’s for your own self centered and manipulating ways—and your fucking non life of failures. You have never been a half way decent mother to start with, so I don’t know why the hell you think I believe you want anything for me. It’s about you. Your fixation with getting me away from Mitch.” “Jason. I tried. I really did. I gave you the best of everything.” “With strings.” He had pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m done talking. I need coffee, and to get to work. And by the way, Madeline is ten times the wife you were, twenty times the woman,

and a hell of a good mother…” After he had slammed down the phone, he had gotten another message while his coffee brewed. She had said, “All right, be childish. Don’t pick up the phone. I just want you to know that I can see plainly, what being around “them” has done to you. It wasn’t my fault your father was screwing that waitress all along.” That was a lie. But she went on and he’d drank his coffee, feeling his head throb, feeling like throwing the cup through the window when she started on his inheritance, which was her part of his grandfather— the doctor’s—estate settlement. She’d ended by telling him how disappointed she was that he chose to be some back-woods hillbilly when he could be making a career for himself in medicine and law, moving with the (right kinds) of people. All day at work, he had heard a dozen conversations in his head. When he was younger, they held more venom than contempt. Even when he had lived with her, obeyed her, he’d felt like an object, a thing she pat on the head and bragged about to her friends, “He’ll be a doctor, someday.” Back then, he had ached for his family, for their hugs and boisterous laughter, their crazy normalcy. He’d had a nanny, and most of the year boarded at private school—hiding letters from his dad and reading them over and over. When he’d was older, he had seen his mother with open eyes, looked at her and known, she didn’t love him the way he thought mother’s should. She did not really want those things for him. She wanted them for herself. Those summers at his Dad’s were in stark contrast. They gave him the courage to refuse to go back. He got gut sick every time his Mom called. It just took him to negative places he shouldn’t go anymore, because he did have a loving and supportive family. “You look tired.” Jason shook off his thoughts and glanced at Briane. She had a water and lime, and hopped on the stool next to him. “Long day.” He rubbed the back of his neck, breathing a whiff of her nice perfume, stirred by it despite his grim thoughts. He said, “Long drive to and from work.” Then glanced at his watch. When he looked at her again, she was eyeing him pensively.

She searched his face before murmuring under the jukebox, “Thanks for coming. You should go home and sleep.” He nodded. “I’m headed home myself.” She took another drink and then climbed down. He didn’t go out the back exit as she did, but saw her in the parking lot as she put her guitar away. Briane turned. He stood by his truck door, reaching in for a cigarette he didn’t want. When she walked toward him, arms folded, Jason noticed several customers leaving, glancing their way. Some nodded to him and asked about Saturday’s show. He answered something and plastered on his smile, and finally lit the cigarette. She paused by him and took it, so he lit another, leaning back against the door and raking a hand through his hair. He wasn’t as dressed up as usual, but in soft denims and a black Tshirt, his cowboy boots. Jason blew a drag of smoke, eyes narrowed a bit from it as he watched her do the same. “Bad day business, or personal?” “Personal.” He didn’t talk about his mom, not ever. She tossed the cigarette, and offered, “Come on. I’m going to get something to eat at the drive-through.” When she turned to walk toward her car, Jason started to refuse. This was not his best mood. Nevertheless, he didn’t want to pass up a chance to be with Briane either. He locked up the truck and moments later slumped on the passenger side of the Bonneville, elbow on the rolled down window, his long legs slightly parted, relaxed. At the drive through, he muttered something off the menu and then they were soon parked a bit off from the restaurant, just below a street lamp, in a mini mart lot. She turned and spread the fare between them. He sat a bit against the window and dug out fries. “Oh Jaysus. Sorry!” Briane laughed when her catsup packet seemed to explode from her fingers. Jason started chuckling—then, rumbling it at the wide-eyed look she gave him—her catsup having hit him—and the windshield.

She grabbed napkins, wiped the dash, and went for his shirt. “I’ve ruined it. What the bloody hell.” Still chuckling, he said, “It’ll wash.” She made a swipe at his cheek. “I can’t believe I did that.” Taking the napkin from her, Jason grinned, “Eat your food. I’ll get it.” Even after eating, she found a glob on the windshield. While stretching that way, she wiped his cheek again. “See to the rubbish, will you?” While he did, dumping the trash, she got in the backseat to fetch wipes. When he was in again, Briane cleaned her hands and wiped the car, then got two fresh ones and tried to repair the mess of his shirt. Finally, she wiped at his cheek. Since she was leaning over him, muttering all sorts of apologies, Jason was laughing again. At some point she glanced his mouth, at that dent in his chin, back up at his smiling lips—and kissed him. Jason stopped laughing. He watched her face when she drew back from that soft kiss. Her hand, still on his cheek moved sot that her fingertips skimmed gently over his bottom lip. Briane stared at his mouth. He knew she was going to kiss him again. He closed his eyes, savored the soft press of her lips, the scent of her, over the smell of fries and fresh wipes. Her breath teased his mouth when she drew back an inch. He saw her toss the wipes over the seat. Her hand was there again, on his face, her fingertips seeming to trace his cheekbone, down his jaw, and around to that dent again. God. He couldn’t ever recall someone touching him just like that. It was sweet and sensual at the same time. Jason husked, “Do that again.” . Hand splayed on his jaw, Briane raised herself slightly, her lips parted on contact with his, her tongue coming inside his mouth this time. He let her kiss him for the first bit, passively lifting his tongue and letting her pace it as soft as she wanted, and it aroused him to be kissed and tasted, and it felt intimate in a whole different way. Afterwards, her lips moved and scored across his jaw. She was catching her breath and it fanned his skin. He felt her hand in his hair. Jason eased his palm along her thigh, lifting his head and

turning to capture her mouth. Their heads moved, equal tasting this time, liquid, lush, soft flesh and flesh. Sounds of jagged breathing filled the car. His palm moved to her back, finding the gap at the hem of her blouse, so his hand could smooth under and touch skin. Ah, silken and soft, womanly. Jason felt chills cover his flesh when she leaned back and they were kissing soft, loose, and more sexual. Briane’s hand slid down his shoulder and arm, and then eased under the hem of his shirt. His stomach muscle cinched and jerked. He moaned at the softness of her palm and fingers. They paused a whisper from kissing, breath bathing damp lips, while their heavy-lidded eyes acknowledged they were touching each other. Aroused and hot. He wanted to feel more of her silken skin. But when she kissed his jaw, and began going back toward his ear and down his neck, Jason could feel her palm exploring under his shirt, over his stomach, ribs, and up between his pecs. He made a rumbling sound in his throat and leaned back, his palm dragging to rest on her outer thigh. She rose higher and followed the motion of him giving her access to do what she wanted. Briane’s breath in his ear had him rock hard—the rest of the way, since the kiss had done the most part. She moved sensually, and when her tongue touched his neck, he opened his closed lids, breathing in the scent of her silken hair, before lifting his hand to cup her head a moment. She lifted it. Jason observed her parted mouth and shimmering eyes, and felt her hand reach his nipple. It was hard too. What he saw there, sent fire through his blood but he lazily rubbed her head before bringing that hand down again, glancing downward, to see his lower stomach exposed above the button fly of his jeans, the browned skin with chill bumps. The ridges flexed, from the pleasure of her touch. Jason rasped, “I wish we were somewhere else.” **** Briane did too.

They had pulled the levers and pushed the seat back while eating, so she had plenty of room, even with him sitting sideways, his long muscled legs with one bent slightly, the other against the dash. Briane was playing with fire. But, from the moment she had spied him tonight, she had seen an expression on his face that was new to her. In the parking lot, she had felt the oddest urge to take him in her arms and hold him. He may want that too, but would not ask. Yet, one look, one kiss, and any doubts she had that he was a virile and sexual man fled. His eyes could tear her up; his mouth melted her bones, his body—rocked. Gazing down at his denim thighs, she used her free hand to smooth over one, feeling his hard and warm muscle. Her hand had his shirt up, past the button fly. That browned skin lay over taut muscle. He had a sexy ridge of inky black hair up to his navel. She’d felt the silken steel of his ribs, the mounded pecs. He was long framed and dark. His scent was nice, something fresh and yet skin warmed. His taste, mouth, supple and smooth in the way that made stopping kissing him difficult. Lifting her gaze to his sleepy one, she felt her breath trap in her throat at the glitter in his baby blue eyes—the sensual expression on his face. He liked her touch, wanted it, and invited it. Leaning again, Briane kissed his lips, amazed anew at their softness. Her fingers rubbed his nipple. She could feel the arousal coil in him. She traced his jaw again, then rubbed her open mouth on the sinew at the side of his neck and bit slightly. “Briane...” the sound vibrated low in his throat. That low moan of her name stirred her already heightened senses. She wished desperately they weren’t in a town parking lot at nine at night. Because she could feel his need, and had them herself, Briane worked his shirt up and let her tongue and lips touch his stomach, just above his navel. Jason sucked in a breath, hand too carefully coming to the curve of her neck. She sensed more than saw that his head was back against the window, and Briane tasted him, that browned skin and muscle, up to his ribs. She heard his breath darken. Hers wafted over him. With boldness, she would later wonder at, she found his nipple and played there, tongue-laving, lips sucking, feeling his fingers flexing.

Dragging her mouth across to the other, Briane felt an echoing sexual ache between her legs, the rise of hunger on her skin and nipples—the moistness of her sex confined in the black lace panties she wore. Panting shallow, feeling almost too sexually charged, Briane sat back, his hand falling away, and hers, dragging down to rest on his stomach while she tried to calm herself. She was arousing him, and as a grown woman, she knew what she was doing. Oh God. She really hadn’t intended this. Neither had she let herself be this close to a man in years. A man like Jason Coburn, well, shite. Everything about him made a woman want to devour him. Jason leaned up and drew her into an embrace, her hand going to his back while she heard his heart thundering. His palm splayed on her head, holding her against his chest. Leaned back this time, he captured her mouth, kissing her sexually, his tongue going deep—erotic. His hand went under her blouse, then up her side and to one breast. He could feel her hard nipples through the bra. Since the kiss was getting hotter, their breathing harder, she understood when he pulled back and turned in the seat—his body slumped, legs apart and hand wiping down his face. Sitting behind the wheel, she was not calm with her neck arched so her head was on the seat. Her legs were trembling. She heard them both struggling to calm down. Briane rolled her head and glanced at him. His one hand was on his thigh, the other arm, propped on the door, fingers rubbing at his eyes, lips parted to pull air in his lungs. She rolled her lips together, drew in two long breaths and let them out, then put her seatbelt on, turning the key, so that the Bonneville rumbled to life. She took a long drink of the soda from the cup holder and saw her hand trembling. She watched him buckle up. Briane pulled out and drove back to The Tavern, swinging into a spot beside his truck, hardly remembering the drive even though the car filled with a night breeze that should have cooled their blood more. Her legs still shook, she suspected his did too. Jason undid his seatbelt. She had turned off the engine and

was staring through the side mirror, watching people leave The Tavern distractedly, warring with herself between glad she had— and wishing she had never started it. Jason opened the door. She glanced at him when he came to her window and leaned down. His hair was finger mussed and his lips looked kissed. She probably looked the same. “You work in the morning?” “Yes.” She nodded, raking her teeth over her lip. “I’m off Friday but I’ve things to do with Brook. She has a song she wants me to do with her, then I’ve rehearsal and…” Briane stopped and held his gaze. It looked wanting, hungry, turned on. “Do you want to get back in the car?” “Yeah. I want to.” His hand moved so he could brush his thumb over her lips. “But we can’t do what we need to do here.” She nodded. He leaned down, kissed her softly, and lifted from it murmuring with a strained half grin, “Well, we could, but this is a weeknight, customers in and out early.” “I know.” Jason took another kiss, moaned, and whispered next, in her ear, “My legs are shaking.” “Mine too.” He kissed her temple then pulled back to silently regard her. Briane was trying to read what he was thinking—aside from the obvious. What he husked was, “Save me a waltz Saturday.’ “Did I say I was sticking around?” He grinned. “Yeah. At least, that’s what James said.” She rolled her eyes but smiled too. “How do you know I was not trying to find a way not to encourage him on general principals? I don’t want to lose my boys before we even get to perform together.” Jason drawled with sexy charm, “Because you licked catsup off my neck.” “I did not.” She giggled. “Um. Hum. And off my…” “Jason.” He chuckled deep, and then eyed her expression.” Your

mouth tastes so good. Your lips and tongue drive me crazy. When you put them on my stomach….and then you...” “Yeeeh.” She sucked in a breath. “That’s not helping.” He moistened his lips, looked around, and sighed. Jason murmured deep, “I wanna get in there and feel you up. I want to kiss your stomach and suck your nipples.” Jaysus.” She turned her head and rested it on her hands at the wheel. He sucked in a breath and whispered as laughter from someone back in the lot drifted over. “I wanna see if you’re as wet as I am hard.” She moaned and rolled her head then raised it, her eyes scolding him, though she husked, “I am. But this talking sex—” “Haven’t done that?” “You know the answer…” “Ah.” He met her stare. His, hot, and naughty. “Didn’t know that. I don’t normally—no—wait. Bad subject.” He grimaced. “Let me put it this way. Haven’t been this turned on, and this interested before—nor this—constrained. I want to know what you feel. What you feel like. What you like. You’re damned sexy, Bri, and we’ve barely done anything but kiss—and not nearly enough of that.” “I get the idea.” Jaysus, what had she started? “Do you?” He teased and touched her lips again. “You need to go. I need to go.” Briane released a thin breath. He kissed her; short, hard, then walked around and got in his truck. He was waiting for her to pull out, so she did. When they turned different directions off the main highway, he beeped. She beeped back. **** At his house, Jason went in and left the main lights off. He turned up his sound system blaring Lil Wayne’s, How to Love. He meant to shuck down and dive into his pool, swim for an hour— hopefully, relax enough for sleep. What he did was sprawl on the leather sectional in the shadowy room, with rhythm and drums vibrating the soundproof house, with his arm over his eyes while his hand rubbed his still sensitive stomach. Everything replayed through his mind, snippets of her shiny

green eyes, parted pink lips. His mouth watered from remembering the kiss. His stomach jerked; skin burning hot, thinking about Briane’s mouth there…. The phone was ringing. Damn it. It was not enough he was celibate—he couldn’t even have a fricking fantasy. It rang again. Shit. He got to his feet, hit the mute on the stereo remote and walked to the kitchen island, taking his boots off as he picked up the cordless. “Yeah.” “Hey, Bro…” “Max. You have shitty timing, as usual.” Max whistled. “That’s fast progress. I had the idea from Brook and the family that—but if Briane’s there, I’ll…” “Only in my mind.” Max crowed at Jason’s dry growl. “Poor sod.” “Amuse me another time.” Jason tossed the boots toward the corner. “What’s up? Y’all still flying in for the opening.” “Yep. Got some surprises this year… Actually, I’m worried about Mitch…” Jason sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Me too. Although you know Dad, he acts as if it’s no big deal. Focused, on the opening, and all. Having to let even family go, he took his unemployment check and paid Bill’s car payment. Handing out to anyone who asks, as usual.” “I wanted to help. To save the business. He bit my fucking head off.” Max laughed. “He gave me the whole spill, about didn’t I know him better than that, and he was okay. Then he was like, I can take care of Madeline. I think it’s the first argument we ever got into. I assured him it wasn’t that. I…hell, I don’t know what to do.” “He says he has savings. I tried to talk to Madeline; she just smiles and says she’d live with Mitch in his pickup, so she’s not worried about anything.” “I know. She told me to leave him his pride. I hell…I wasn’t trying to… what should we do?” “Nothing we can. Madeline and Mitch will go find other work if they run out of money. The lands, the house, their cars, are paid

for. I just wish some of the family would realize Dad’s wallet isn’t going to be as deep…” “Me to. I want him to talk to me. I wish he would, even if he is pissed, or wants to rant, or is depressed, something…” “I tried. Look, Dad is okay if everyone else is. He knows how to take care of things and so does Madeline. But if he thinks we’re worried, he’ll be all bent.” “All right. Listen, Jordan and I talked and I am going to call Coy in the morning. I want to pay for everything at The Mill. The power bill, the food, whatever he usually foots. Jordan is going to casually approach Madeline about doing a Coburn Christmas thing at The Mill, this year. She’s been approached by one of the cable stations, but told them the only way she’d do a special was if it was with the family, and in a setting she chose.” “That’s—damned inspired.” “Yeah. And the good part is, in the contract, they’d get royalties…not just from and soundtracks, but film DVD’s too.” “You married a smart woman.” “I did. And sexy too.” They talked a bit more, and then Max teased, “I’ll let you go and beat off in the shower. Just like middle school.” He sighed. “How the popular hath fallen.” “Prick. “ “Love you too, bro.” Jason clicked off and peeked the clock, then dialed GW. If anyone could whip the family into line—or talk them into something —besides Mitch. It was GW.

Chapter 9 Saturday, Briane opened with a bang, doing two songs by the Chieftains—and—laughing her head off at the pumped-up patrons, swinging their mugs and bottles, dancing a kind of square dance, arm and arm. People were the same all over the world, she decided, hard working folk who loved to celebrate and enjoy themselves. Even as she did her last songs, those who were coming to see Jason and the Coburn’s were smiling and having a good time. Of course—there were more women. Women of all ages, but an unmistakable cluster of young blonds and beautiful, tanned, college age girls—dressed hip, sleek, and ordering up mixed drinks. She tried not to imagine which ones Jason dated. All of them, likely. Since the Coburn’s were all male bands, and they switched off, younger older, with occasionally having women play, it stood to reason, there would be more female fans. Briane made herself focus on faces who’d come to see her before, and after applause, she came to the mic and closed, picking The Kesh Jig, which took all of her focus, since it was usually played with several instruments instead of just the guitar. The crowd clapped, laughed and whistled. Briane tapped on the guitar and called out, “Ach, now. Where’s me whistlers?” She chuckled as men—and women, tried to whistle the tune. Her foot in the high-heeled ankle boots tapped in beat, before she walked the stage. The lights were up. Briane grinned and winking as folks raised their beers and called out “Irish!” in an endearing manner she was fast growing to love. Finishing with a flourish, Briane bowed deeply and blew a kiss to the patrons. While the applause was still going she could feel vibrations in the floor and knew Jason and the Coburn’s were arriving back stage. Someone yelled, “Encore!” She started to refuse, but heard Coy yell from back stage, “One more, Irish!” Briane nodded and stepped to the mic again. Closing her eyes, she waited until the room hushed and began the, The parting glass. She lost herself in the song, (Of all

the money that ere I had, I spent it in good company. And of all the harm that ere I've done, alas was done to none but me. And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I cannot recall. So fill me to the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all.) She sang the next two verses, and on the last note opened her eyes, letting it resonate before the thunder of applause. After her bow, Briane carried her guitar back stage, smiling and nodding—thanking the Coburn’s, who congratulated her and smiled, offering, “Great performance.” Jason came to the area from a side door. Briane paused in the motion of locking her guitar case. She had worn nice clothing, wide legged, low-rise black slacks and her open toed ankle shoes. The trousers had a thin gold chain attached to the waistband. Her gold and green blouse came just to the top of that low waist. It was tailored and sleeveless. Her hair was down, and she had worn her small emerald earrings Liam had sent her for Christmas. But Jason….Bloody hell. She glanced from his nice black shoes, up those long legs, enchased in black trousers. He wore a kind of tailored shirt in pale blue with longish cuffs, the tails out, and his hair looked glossy black—styled in sexy casual layers. She straightened, guitar in hand. He set his down and reached her side, letting their eyes meet and lock. He’s sooooo sexy. She mentally moaned. Help me keep my head about me. His deep tone went right down her spine though, “I was here, back stage. I just went out to get my gear. Loved it. You have an endless well of talent, and a way with the crowd.” He smelled good enough to lick. “Thanks.” She sounded breathless. He checked her out. “You look great.” Eyeing those shoes, he smiled slightly. “Taller?” She laughed and stuck out her foot, using a free hand to raise the trouser hem, and show him the shoes. Feeling, like the other Coburn’s—casually talking, checking their instruments, were watching them. Jason’s head was bent, and hers was tilted back, to give him her full attention. “They’re new, and I’ll pay later for indulging in them.” “Sexy.”

“Ah so you have a shoe fetish.” “No. I have a you, fetish.” The jukebox played a Love like this. Their eyes locked, held for heartbeats. The air seemed to crackle around them, between them. It was sexually alive. In the car, the other night rushed back to her. She could visually see his browned, ripped, stomach, her lips on them. She remembered his taste… Briane eyed his lips. Smooth, sensual, sexy. He eyed hers. She looked down him…slowly. Jason caught her doing it. “Going to your car?” God, his voice was sexy smooth…”Yeah.” He leaned to say in her ear, “We’ve an hour or so. Come back in and dance with me.” Briane nodded, her legs already shaking as she went outside. She was putting her guitar in the car and locking the trunk, when she noticed the full parking lot—cars parking down the street even. People were everywhere, in line to get inside, standing by cars, in clusters. She got herself water, really amazed at the crowd. Her eyes scanned and—landed on the most attractive women, some in line, some in clusters, several laughing and talking loudly. Briane swallowed and licked her lips. Do not even think about him with them, she muttered in her mind. Briane tossed the water and went back inside, a little tenser in her stomach when she found Jason with her gaze. He stood talking to Jude, who sat in a chair, tuning his bass. He was glorious. Absolutely. That contrast in the light blue shirt, his inky hair and bronze skin. He was an amazingly handsome and sexy guy. How could she blame women for falling all over him? Jason looked over. Briane felt that desire coil between them. The music vibrating the floor now just happened to be Colbie Callat, I never told you….I miss those blue eyes, the way you kiss me at night… Bloody hell. Jason finished his conversation.

Briane did not miss the slightly smiling and knowing look Jude gave them when Jason sauntered toward her. There were some mutters and grins too from the others he passed. Heart thumping, part of her was screaming—do not go out there on the floor with two dozen stunning women he has bedded! The other half just wanted him to touch her, come close to her. Jason took her hand, his own—strong, work toughened, but so masculine and warm. Standing slightly beside, his head dipped. His mouth touched her ear. His breath wafted over as he said, “Ruby, and Deege’s girlfriend are saving you a spot at their table.” Briane nodded. “But first, I want to hold you, dance with you.” She tried to joke, because she was already shaking, “Testing my moves?” “Showing you mine,” he drawled sexily. She drew in a shaky breath. He was too good at his. They walked around the stage before going through a narrow and short hall, and into the main room. The place was crowded, noisy. The next song hadn’t started yet. Couples lingered on the floor though, talking. She scanned and found Ruby and an attractive woman sitting mid-center. Ruby wore something stylish in bright yellow. The other woman sat with her chair turned, in jeans and boots, a black tank. She was pretty, with long sandy hair. She smiled and gave her a subtle sign. Briane managed a smile and nod. Jason flexed his fingers against hers, to draw her attention when the music started. Drawing her into him, he tucked her hand in his, near his chest, the other low on her spine, splayed. Feeling him, breathing his scent, absorbing his heat, Briane had her free arm around his shoulders, her shoes making her tall enough so her temple was against his chin. She didn’t miss that subtle press from him that brought them close as they could get and still dance, his muscled leg moved between her own. If she thought he felt strong and virile before, she certainly knew it and felt it now. She had a hysterical thought that Brook would call it “Man drug.” Getting this high, this heady, from being close to the potency of someone who turned you on.

His first moves told her he danced well, and the way he moved against her—so sexy, told her he was indeed showing her his “moves”. Briane closed and opened her eyes, letting her body follow, reminding herself it was just a dance. That was tough, since she knew he was both using it to be close to her, hold her, feel her, and doing it for the same reason she was—because they needed to touch in some sensual way. Briane felt his hand glide up her back during a turn and then go lower before it settled on her spine. Bloody hell. She may have moaned aloud. Her heart pounded. She could feel his. Had the sense he wanted her to. Just moments before they both knew the song would end; he slid his cheek down the side of her face and whispered in her ear, “I don’t want to let you go.” Jaysus. It was going to be a long night. He breathed in, a catch in that inhale, and before letting their bodies part, told her, “Coy and Jude will sing lead most of the night, but I’ve a song for you.” Briane met his gaze, feeling eyes on them, wondering—if — her face showed as much sexual heat as his did. “I look forward to it.” “We take a fifteen, after the first hour. I’ll do it in the second set. Our first is dance music, oldies, swing, and southern rock. The last bit we do more current hits and ballads…” “K.” He grinned. “I’m making every excuse not to let go of you.” “I don’t have to look to feel people staring.” “I don’t give a shit.” She laughed at the tension in his retort, but pulled back. “I’ll go join Ruby.” Turning before he could stop her, she made her way to a grinning Ruby. “This is Melissa...” Ruby introduced them. “She was out of town last Sunday.” The women shook hands. Ruby waved her into the chair on the other side of her and leaned up, saying over the music and people still pouring in. “Y'all look great together.” Blowing out a breath, Briane looked around, observing some hostile stares on her. Ruby advised, “Don’t pay any attention to what happens once

they start playing. They’ve been performing a long time. Women will flirt and scream their names, some will stay right up next to the stage, grinding for them.” The woman laughed. “Not that I blame them. But Jude goes home with me. Makes love with me. Loves me. And Coy goes home to Brook…They perform to women, for women. Although, men enjoy them just as well, it’s a part of what they do, and what these girls come for.” Briane got what Ruby was saying, even experienced it herself, but because this giving into feelings was so new—so frightening—she felt a little sick too. “I’m not staking some claim on Jason Coburn tonight…” “Shame. You should.” Ruby winked and then leaned up and said, “Never seen that look on Jason when he’s with a woman, not ever. And it is not just tonight. All week everyone’s been saying he’s got his head in the clouds.” Briane tried to shrug it off. “He’s probably slept with most of the women in this room.” Melissa cut in this time, leaning to reach her beer that had been ordered for her. “Not slept. He doesn’t have them in bed that long. Deege says Jason flirts, gets and goes. Although, I’ve seen women do everything but pull his clothes off, and theirs too…” “That happens tonight, I’m leaving.” Briane shook her head. “I can’t—” “Drink your beer.” Ruby laughed. “The man wants you—and it’s not for a one night stand. Even if he sings to women, he’s never sang “for” one, and Jude says he’s picked one tonight. It is going to be interesting to see what he picked. Briane, Jason is like Mitch, he is strong and doesn’t like to show vulnerability—or rather, only does with people he feels strongly for. He covers it with his natural charm and joking. If you ever have a Coburn man care for you, you’ll see life and love through new eyes…” “That’s a bit further along than I’m even ready for.” Briane muttered. She drank her beer, listening to the music—and tried not to watch the women dancing. By the time that beer was finished, there wasn’t standing room. She could feel the excitement, the louder chatter, the vibe in the air, the closer it got for their set. The music ended. Several moments passed before the lights went down. Everyone was already clapping and yelling by the time

lights were hitting the stage. Clapping, standing, as the others were, Briane noticed for the first time that all the Coburn men were black trousers, similar shirts to Jason’s of different colors. Jude’s hair was back in a tail a few of the naturally streaked blond pieces lose. He stood in the center on bass, Coy on the right with electric guitar, and Jason on the left, with an electric-acoustic. In the back, she saw Deege on steel guitar, another on drums. Briane had seen pictures of Deege playing everything from drums to a banjo. The man was versatile. “How y’all doing?” Jason’s bass rumbled. People yelled. Women screamed his name. “Ready to pa—rty!” Coy asked and turned as if to listen. While they were still screaming, the opening to Sweet Home Alabama sounded. People surged to the floor. Others whistled and yelled. Seated again, Briane tried not to stare at Jason, because she knew he’d feel it. She had objective moments where she was amazed by Coy’s range, from alto to tenor, a pure and beautiful sound, Jude sang a middle lead, Jason’s Bass, of course, was incredible. She could pick up the voices in the background, that natural family harmony. After that, they rolled through a two-step, something Texas swing. It was obvious people came to dance as much as listen. They did a version of Mustang Sally, and two Rascal Flatts songs that got whoops and yells. Sipping the next beer slowly, Briane rocked to the music, and finally allowed herself to scan faces, seeing Jude wink at Ruby. Coy was into the music, his head moving while he played and stepped up to sing, displaying his love of what he did. She doubted Jason could see her clearly, since he had brighter lights on him. She watched him turn slightly to the side, singing, gazing at Jude for a moment while he dropped the bass tone even lower. Briane spotted a woman just below Jason then, her low cut blouse showing tanned cleavage—and skin-tight shorts certainly drawing attention to the ass-grinding she gave. Over the next song, she observed the more subtle things women did, as opposed to those who yelled his name, pieces of paper were slid up on the stage near his feet—likely phone numbers. A sleek

blond with long legs, in denims, boots, and a tight white tank, braless—was giving him that (we know each other,) look. Briane glanced up at Jason. He was facing, gazing in her direction, and he winked subtly. She dampened her lips, wanting to just leave, feeling like she really was not up to this. Shite. She was NOT his type, and not ready to compete with them either. The hour was both too short—and longest ever. “Fifteen.” Coy said over the mic. Briane got up to use the restroom. The line was so long she went out and slipped into Sunny’s office, and used his. Standing a moment inside with the bright light, holding to the cool sink, she stared at her green eyes. “You’re not good at this shite. Briane. You’re not ready for this. You can’t let this consume you. You can’t let Him—” She blew out a loud breath and did some repairs to her brown liner and the light bronze shadow. With that mutter still echoing, she left and went back, finding it a crush to get through the door. Briane was gazing at the table when Ruby, standing by the stage, talking to Jude, took her arm and said under the din, “Jason stepped out, he said for you to join him.” Briane headed toward the stage exit, out into a night that felt cooler simply because of the noisy and crowded club. It would rain tonight, she would bet on it. He was half sitting, on the front of her car, smoking, drinking limewater from a huge cup. “Great show.” Jason eyed her and blew smoke, his gaze knowing as he rumbled, “You were tense every time I looked at you.” “Um.” She lit her own smoke. Jason set his drink on the hood and took her free hand, pulling her so she had to stand astride his booted feet. His hand went to her hip. “I give my all when I perform. Tonight, I was distracted, and it wasn’t from whatever you were paying attention to.” “I’m fine, just grand.” She smiled short and shook her head, then drew on the smoke and glanced around. “Hey.” He captured her chin, making her look at him. He murmured, “You notice those four young guys that have shown up

to see you every time you’ve played…” “What guys?” He snorted. “Two remind me of Max’s friends, look like they belong in a Boston pub—or a bohemian café, reading Chaucer. The other two; one is brawny with red hair, a neat beard, the other has longish hair.” “No.” “Exactly.” “Not.” She shook her head. “Who knows how many of these women you’ve…” Briane stopped herself and stepped back, pulling her hand free. “Bloody Hell. I can’t—.” She crushed the smoke and turned to walk away. He straightened and caught her. Jason used a hold on her shoulders to make her face him. His head lowered so swiftly, lips capturing hers so fast that Briane was soon the one leaning against the car having no memory of how she got there—with Jason Coburn kissing her hot enough to melt the heels off her new shoes. He lifted his head mere inches. “You remember that? How we taste to each other? How kissing feels.” He cupped her waist, their bodies close. “You can’t do what? Want me. Watch me perform? Let me sing to you…” “Jason.” Oh shite, he was good. He growled something and lowered his head, kissing her again slow and hot, sexually explicit—raising just enough to breathe out a “Briane…” before he kissed her again. A little beep sounded from his watch. He parted their mouths and straightened, but was shoving his hands through his hair, sucking in air. Doing her own wind sucking, Briane grabbed his drink, drank, and then handed it to him. He husked, “It’s time for me to go back.” His hand touched her cheek. “You okay?” “No.” She laughed and moistened her lips. “Me either.” He cocked his brow and grinned. “Good thing I play guitar.” She dropped her gaze to where the tail of his shirt was and back up. Jason reached for her hand and tugged her with him to the

entry. In the hall, to the stage, both of them hearing Jude and the others already on, he kissed her soft and sweet, cupping her face and then murmuring, “This half is for you. Are you hearing me, Briane O’Fahy Richards?” “I’m hearing.” She smiled tense. He—was going to destroy her. A quick wink and then he hurried back stage for his guitar. She found her seat with Ruby, again aware of hostile stares. She ignored them and answered Ruby’s whadda ya have, with “Lime water.” Briane didn’t want to drink over her limit, though she was tempted. The lights went down, on stage, softer ones bathed the men. Coy was joking with the patrons—something about standing in the long line to the ladies room—, which cracked everyone up. Briane watched Jason come onstage, the light bathed him, enhanced everything about him. She ignored the female screams. She wanted to scream too. Some of the older crowd had left, and there were under 50’s and more 20’s remaining. Since they knew the Coburn’s, she gathered this was common for them, a way to please all their fans. Jason played the first song, finding her with his too blue eyes during Jude singing (Please forgive me) by Brian Adams, with Coy on the harmony. Briane had to glance at Ruby, because Jude made it obvious he was singing it to her, making musical love to her… Ruby, a really beautiful and unique woman, in Briane’s summation, gazed back at Jude—her expression showing that she knew, felt, believed, everything he sang….No matter how tough and hard Jude Coburn looked on the surface, Briane recognized that he was a different man with his woman. She had that same, wow—envy/admiration, she did when observing Mitch with Madeline, or Coy and Brook. Glancing at Jason, she saw he was gazing at Jude with a smile. Coy played the solo, then sang, (The one thing I’m sure of, is the way we made love) Jude and the others sang the last lines together, but Jude’s rasp stood out as passion poured flowed from him. Briane was on her feet clapping as soon as it ended. Glancing at Ruby, she saw the woman mouth something to Jude,

her brown eyes glowing. Jude rubbed his chest and winked at her. In the next moments, Jude took the left stage, setting his mic stand back. Coy did likewise. The dimmer lights behind them showed the others changing instruments. They went into shadow. Her heart fluttered like crazy. Jason stood in front, center stage. For a while, there was silence, then several whistles, his name being yelled out, with someone screaming, yeah baby, sing to me. So caught up in watching him, noticing the spotlight showered down over his tall frame, making his hair shimmer, Briane almost jumped when Ruby leaned up and whispered, “I’ve never seen this happen.” She sounded so worried Briane looked at her. She said, “Jason’s the lead most times. He’s always talking to the crowd, telling jokes, and before he sings. But he looks…” Briane looked and saw Jason’s chin was down, his hands on the mic, cupping it, no guitar. “Nervous…almost,” Melissa filled in. Swallowing, Briane started picking up the tension, though Jude and Coy were smiling and playing soft chords, gazing completely relaxed, she could tell Jason was drawing slow and deep breaths… When his chin lifted, the crowd went crazy, whistling and yelling, but it faded out to her ears. His baby blue eyes were searing her. It was potent, stirring, making her body sensitized, sending her mind into a whirl. His deep voice rumbled before the first piano intro was played “Woman got me losing sleep…umm…ain’t that something.” He began singing a soft and husky version of (If I Don't Tell You Now) By Ronan Keating, an artist he had to know, she’d know well too, since the CD had been playing that night…at the house...Jude and Coy, Deege singing backup... I kept it inside…For the longest time, and I can't keep keeping it. All this love that's Inside of my heart. Maybe it's safer not to say that I care. Maybe this road won't Lead me

anywhere….But… if I don't tell you now…I may never get the chance again. To tell you that I need you, tell you, what I'm feeling. If I keep these feelings in. And if I don't Say the words...How will you hear…what's inside my heart... Maybe I'm only gonna…Make a mistake…And there's a chance…Maybe my heart will break…But… if I don't tell you now… I may never get the chance again…To tell you that I need you, tell you, what I'm feeling…If I keep these feelings in. As the last words faded, he whispered a soft “Briane.” Briane released a shaky breath that could not be heard under the thunder of applause. She sat gazing at the stage, even as the lights went down, and Jude said softly, “God bless. Safe drive home, folks.” The main lights went up, dance music throbbed. It was not until Ruby and Melissa walked around the table that Briane stirred. Standing, feeling half out of her body, she walked to the side door, and went outside. People were all around when Briane headed to the car. Getting in, she sat relaxed in the seat, watching the door of The Tavern, wondering—if she was just another woman, fallen prey to Jason Coburn’s seduction— admitting, that when they kissed, touched, it did not matter. Briane saw him come out and glance at her car before carrying his gear to his truck. It was sprinkling rain, and had that scent, on the breeze, that the rain would pick up through the night. He walked toward her. His hands were tucked in his pockets slightly. She heard people calling out, greeting him, and talking about the show. He smiled, nodded, signed a ball cap and napkin, but he kept checking to make sure she still sat there. Briane turned her head, as he approached her car door. Jason leaned down, light eyes searching her face. The rain was dampening his hair, getting his shirt wet. “Who’s at your house?” “Rafael was supposed to come over. He and Kiera are probably working late. They have done so at his office or at the park so Mora can play, but I gather Kiera had some things she found on line she wanted to show him. And it’s easier than having to wake Mora up, if they run late…” “Lock up the car. We’ll take my truck.” She did it, weak woman that she was, but murmured, “Where are we going?” as they hurried across the lot, people screaming at

the rain, hurrying to cars, or inside as the shower picked up. In the truck, the windows were lowered a bit so they wouldn’t fog; Jason started it and looked at her after finger combing his hair. “My house.” His gaze probed hers. His hands rested on the wheel. “I’ll shower and change, make you coffee. Talk. Anything else—is up to you.” She turned and watched the rain beat on the windshield. It was not a talking kind of evening. They should, they needed to, but they were two adults, attracted…more than that, the chemistry was explosive tonight. She could sit here and argue with herself, remind herself that she hadn’t been with a man in—what may as well have been forever. There was, that she had always had for him. This was dangerous, emotionally, but… Jason sat a heartbeat longer, his gaze on her profile, then pulled out with wipers slapping hard, and the rain scent drifting in over the sexy beat and smooth sounds of (Over and Over again.) She liked his scent, mixed with the rain. He wore a breezy kind of fresh cologne…Briane was lost already, and admitted it. Driving into Copper Creek, the blacktop was shimmery. The fragrances that wafted in the window were rich and earthy. He turned up the road to his house and parked under a carport, getting an umbrella from behind the seat, before walking her up the stairs. Inside the door, Jason flipped a switch and diffused light showed in the vine etched wall panels. “I’m grabbing a quick shower. The remote to the sound system is on the coffee table” He kissed Briane delicately. “Guest bath is that way, if you want to freshen up…” “I’ll make coffee, if you—” He pointed right, “Coffee is in the fridge.” Before she could ask, but supposing it kept it fresh, he was heading through the great room and down a hallway. Briane went to the kitchen, nice granite counter, still a mix of rustic and modern. Finding everything easily, she started coffee in a complicated coffee maker that took a few buttons to figure out. Walking next, in the direction of the guest bath, she looked around and admired the exposed beams and wood, skylights, and in the first guest bedroom, a nice sleigh bed with coppery tones in the decor. The bath was earth tones, having all the modern amenities.

Briane repaired her make-up, opened a drawer on the sink, and found spare toothbrushes. She used one, and then dried her damp hair. Regarding her image, the dark green eyes, seeing both the sexy anticipation in them and the shadow of anxiety, she sat down and took off her boots because the suede was wet. Carrying them, she padded back through, her gaze skimming the huge sectional, spying a big screen on the wall, before she fixed herself coffee. Briane took it with her to explore another room. A switch turned lights on under the pool. After flickering that off, she went up winding iron stairs, and found herself on a cozy balcony, glass doors showing the rain hitting a jutting upper deck. She slid the doors open and leaned her shoulder there, breathing in, listening, and trying not to think too hard. It was the nice scent of his soap that alerted her, that, and the sharp smell of coffee, when Jason joined her. She rolled her shoulder, watching him at the last step. He had on soft denims, was barefoot, and wore a light blue denim shirt, unbuttoned. His hard, honed bronze chest and stomach, showed. “Our gardens need the rain,” he murmured and joined her long enough to open all the doors and slide them back, bringing in the pleasant waft and a ruffle of breeze. His eyes met hers and he offered his hand. She walked back with him, to wide seating, against the iron balcony railing. Sitting to the side, he put the coffee on the floor and reached for her, husking, “Let me hold you.” Briane placed hers on a wooden side table and put her knee on the buttery cushion, letting him pull her into his hold and against his body. More against the back, her bent knee over his thigh, she lay with her head on his shoulder watching the rain splash up, listening to the sounds of it, and feeling his hand on her hip, the other along her shoulders. His palm rubbed the soft material of her slacks slowly, though at some point it was sliding under the hem of her blouse and touching the skin on her upper hip and waist. Jason shifted, moving back. Nudging her, until her head was on the smaller arm pillow, her body more reclined on the seat cushions. He aligned on his side at the edge, his muscled leg sliding between hers. He gently cupped her cheek, eyes in the intimate lighting gazing into hers seconds before he lowered his

head and kissed her. Briane’s hand found his arm in the span of the soft and intimate play of tongues and lips that became a more erotic and deeper kind of kissing. They kissed a lot, discovering the texture of mouths, velvet lips, teasing and testing the inner secrets. Eventually he pulled back to nibble and tug sensually at her bottom lip with his teeth, making her feel everything he did, deep in her sex. Under the sound of rain, their breathing became hot and dense, eyes glittering each time they pulled back to catch a breath. Jason leaned his head up further, his hand moving to the buttons on her blouse. She watched those tanned, long, artistic fingers, so masculine undoing them. He watched too. When her black lace bra was revealed, and the upper swells of her breasts shimmering under the subtle lights, there was an obvious quiver in her lower stomach that was visible too. Briane peeked at him. He met it with sexy blue eyes, while his fingertips were touching downwards, then drawing circles around her navel. Jason kissed her again. For a time, it was only the softly seductive feel of the backs of his fingers brushing over her skin, or his hand sliding under her, around, to feel her back and spine. She filtered her fingers through his lush raven hair. Jason murmured, “Briane...” Then slid downward. His lips caressed above the low-rise waistband, and then every inch of her skin he could reach. Again softly seductive, his lips and silky hot tongue were sweetly burning her. His hand cupped her hip and glided upwards, over her still covered breasts. Briane moaned, set her teeth, but had to part them again to breathe sharp again. Her nipples ached. Briane sucked in her breath. His sensual mouth was driving her mad. His taking his time was both arousing and making her hotter, tense inside—and more coiled with hungers. She heard the needy tremble in her breathing but could not help it. Jason kissed upwards, over that front latch of her bra, across her collarbone, and then suckled at her neck—giving her a little bite next that was so sexual she wanted to come off the couch. “Jason…” Her fingers dug into his arms. He answered by palming under one breast, pressing

upwards, while his hot mouth and tongue played at her throat. Briane moved him back; panting so hard her ribs lifted with it. She sat upright and undid the bra herself, feeling the weight of her breasts wonderfully freed to the rain scented air. She slid it off with her blouse. “Ummm, babe.” He put his hands on her hips, moving off and to the floor, on his knees. Her legs were on either side of him. She was sitting up, a little slumped. Her hands pushed back his open denim shirt. Jason stopped admiring her breasts long enough to take it off. Eyes catching hers, he touched her left nipple, softly. “You’re beautiful.” She looked down and watched his fingers wrap around the ivory globes. He felt them, weighed them, massaged, before touching the large pale pink nipples. They were tingling, tight, aching. He leaned in for a taste of them. Her fingers dug into the muscled mounds of his shoulders. That feel, the smooth inside of his sexy lips wrapping her nipple, the slight pressure of teeth on them, before his tongue flickered—was like lightening through her body. Briane jerked, moaned, arching and then moaning louder in almost painful pleasure. Ahhh, God. It had been so long. Nothing ever had felt like the hot silk of Jason’s mouth. Her hands went to the sides of his neck, and up into his hair, downward with a hiss from her clenched teeth. Her nails scraped the backs of his shoulders. Her back arching, he held tighter to those mounds, suckled them harder, moving his head so that she whispered mindless things, unable to contain the exquisite fire inside of her. The rain slackened. Briane was only half-aware that those sounds were her moans and hisses of tense breath. She pulled his head back at one point and leaned down to kiss him, her tongue taking it aggressive and erotic, and his moan telling her he liked it. Jason pulled back, heavy lashed and glitter eyed. He must have seen everything on her face, the sight of her white teeth bearing on her lower lip the most telling. He stood to gently turn her down, on the cushions, coming with her, and half over her, kissing, suckling, biting her neck, while his hand went from her breast to her waist and the side of it—letting her feel a man caress her—

skittering lightening on her flesh with every stroke and kiss. Legs shifting restlessly, her sex pressed by his thigh, and aching, contracting, Briane touched him anywhere she could, skimming, grasping. Lust and hungers, everything converged, burning inside her. Thinking with excitement and lust, Oh God, it had never felt like this, nothing, felt like this. She wanted and needed…. She held off his hands and dipped to lave and suckle his nipples. His skin was warm, scented, and his tender velvet nipples were sensitive. He had a magnificent body. while she tasted the skin of his neck, down to his stomach, he murmured things she could scarcely hear over the slam of her heart and the haze in her head, but that deep rumble turned her on all the more.. She started to lie back. Jason held her breasts against him for a bit, chest to chest, one hand running through her hair sexually rough, before he had her flat on her back again. “Jason. Jason.” The echo of that lingered, the fire of need and sparks of desire so intense, that as soon as he laved her nipple again, she felt like coming apart. He laved and licked them, teased them and kissed them, as she never knew a man could love a woman’s breasts. Her nipples were wet, hard, shrunken to peaks of flushed, aroused flesh. Jason rose slightly, breathing dark, thick, and as hard and fast as she did. His palm rested on her stomach. “You’re sexy as hell. Soft, sexy, womanly…” he sounded tense and hot, “You turn me on.” “You’re not too shabby yourself.” She wiped a trembling hand over her face, only half-aware of what she said. “I’m coming apart, and burning up at the same time.” He rolled, and then standing, reached for her, but once on her feet Jason turned her nude back to his front. Briane felt the heat of his male skin, the hardness of his cock in the soft Levis, and vibrations from his heart beat in that muscled chest. Nibbling her shoulder, Jason smoothed his splayed hand across her stomach, then down, to firmly cup between her legs. The other held her breast possessively. When he squeezed there and her breast at the same time, she moaned, “Please...” and arched her head back, her hands reaching back, grasping his thighs.

Trembling when he found the latch, the slick dress trousers went to the floor with an undoing of the short zipper. In her high-cut, low-waist lace panties, she moaned again from the feel of him against that much skin. Jason kissed her shoulders, her back, and nudged her knee on the seat cushion. He went down her spine kissing, laving. He caressed her shapely legs, inside, outside, kissed and laved at her ass—while his fingers rubbed the strip of lace covering her damp sex. Briane, head bowed, hand braced on the seating back, whispered as sexual chills blanketed her, “I can’t believe how good this feels.” “I’m a little out of my head myself.” Rising, Jason turned her around. They were trembling as he embraced her, his heart thundering in her ears. Loosing his hold, he dipped and kissed her erotic and hungry, before working her panties down. If she thought he would strip too, and be inside her, Briane was wrong. The sexy man—already blowing her mind, went to his knees, kissed around her strip of dark curls, laved her hips and lower belly, before standing and nudging her to sit on the cushions. “Uhhh…” she cried out, thighs quivering. He was between her spread thighs, two fingers gliding between the slick lips of her sex, rubbing. “Briane.” He breathed, “You’re warm and sleek and beautiful here too.” She could barely see, just enough to watch him parting the lips and dipping to kiss and lick her, before he sank a finger into her—all the way. “God…Jason!” She moaned, half cried. Briane arched and rode his touch, her breathing as quick as her movements. “Umm…feel it.” He rubbed the walls of her sex, his thumb pressing her clit on and off. “Cream my fingers, babe…slick and smooth...” Half crying she sat up; holding his touch inside a moment. Briane feared her heart would explode. Gulping, “Just give me... a moment.” Jason slowly withdrew his touch then held her hands aside, his lips kissing over her warmly flushed face. “It’s all right. It’s okay.” He kissed her ear and whispered, “I know what you want. I will give it to you. Time doesn’t matter, take all you want. You don’t

have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, until you get what you need.” She leaned back, shuddering, her thighs trembling. The want of him magnifying the intensity of his sensual face, his aqua eyes, and those lips. His torso had tightened, nipples hard. His deep breaths were as harsh as her own. Briane sat up and moved her hands from his. She skimmed her hands down his stomach, over to the strained button fly. Her lips inches from his, eyes holding under his half lowered lids, she whispered, “Let me touch you.” Jason, on his knees, undid the buttons. His fingers held a tremor too, she noticed. He pulled the gap wide, then that denim was pushed down over tanned, firm, muscled buttocks. His thick and hard cock thrust from a nest of inky hair. His lower abdomen was creamy tanned and sinewy. “You’re circumcised.” He half choked, “All the Coburn’s are.” searching her face, he whispered, “Is that a turn off—” “No. It’s so lovely, smooth and peach and so….potent looking.” He released a tense sigh, then took her hand and put it on him. Gazes locked, she stroked him, whispering, “It feels good, hot, silken….” Sucking in a breath when she had her fingertips under the head, he rasped tight, “That’s a…real sensitive spot….” She let her fingertips play there then brought them over the head, which made him say through cinched teeth, “Yes…” He released a breath in a short rush, then took her hand away and kissed her palm. “I won’t cum till you do.” Leaning in, Jason spread her thighs, leaning in to slide his sex between her legs, and rubbed, teased, gliding that silken heat between the lips. Once she found the cadence to do that with him, he cupped her face, kissed her, and thrust a dozen times between the plump lips, mingling their moans of pleasure, before pulling back and going down on her—sexily sucking it and flicking his tongue on her clit again. “I’m going to—.” She panted. Briane felt she would explode. “Jason!”

Jason pulled her to the edge of the seat. Stretching, filling that climax sensitive flesh, he put that steely heat half inside her, leaving himself room to circle her swollen clit with the pad of his finger. Having groaned a warning—she climaxed, her hips pushing, hand moving his away and taking him all the way inside. The walls of her sex quivering, milking, and flexing on him, knees rising and head back. Her hands dug into the cushions... “Oh. Fu—ck!” Briane was only half-aware Jason chanted something about condoms grit-teethed, but she did feel when he pulled out and finished, pumping warm seed over her curls. His loud harsh breaths wafted on her breasts, torso bowed and head down, his frame shuddered... Her mind was blown. Her body and bones melted by an inner fire, a beautiful explosion. Briane floated on it for some time. A bit later, Briane emerged from the haze and stirred, she gathered her clothing. Jason was seated on the floor, his jeans up but still undone, tanned back to the sofa and arms around his knees. His eyes were closed. Going to the guest bath to repair, she came out, fully clothed. He had carried their cups down and in the bright kitchen. Briane sat on the sectional to put her shoes on. When he joined her Briane muttered, “I need to go. Kiera will worry…” He hesitated, and then murmured, “I wish you could stay Okay, I know you can’t…, let me get my shoes.” When he was back, they walked to the door, Jason collecting the umbrella. The night was sharper scented. Rain drizzled and dripped. He held the door while she got in the truck, then put the umbrella in the back, getting in the drivers side. Jason studied her profile on and off as he drove her to fetch her car at The Tavern. At some point, she said something about a smoke, and he motioned to the glove box—a whole second before he tried to reach over and keep it from opening. Trying to watch the slick road, he met her gaze. “There’s a pack in the console.” But he was not that lucky. The glove box lid fell open. Jason did not take his eyes off the road, didn’t need to look or see her face—he could feel the change of atmosphere from intimate and close—to slammed-door cold. He was pulling into The Tavern when the lighter flickered, and

the cigarette smoke scent came. Easing in a space close to her car, he reached for the door latch but she was already out. “I’ll see you at Dad’s?” He leaned over and called. “Yeah. See you.” “Briane?” She looked up before opening her car door. Shit. Jason knew the signs because he had given them off himself. (Give me space. Let’s not do the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing, around your family Sunday). He could see a mixture of hurt, a lot of distant. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jason offered, “I’m single. I keep condoms in several places, because I try to be responsible.” Mentally he added, except tonight with her, he had fricking lost his head and forgot. “As for those pictures… they’ve been in there…a long time, I only remembered, when you…” “I’m fine with it.” Bullshit. “Wait right there.” He got out and walked to her car, taking her in his embrace before she could get in. Jason held her tightly, his heart now ramming his ribs for entirely different reasons. God, why did this shit go wrong with her? Why couldn’t he get a break? He assured her huskily, “The intimacy was amazing…. It was very—intense for me. I’m aware that there are other parts of getting to know each other, and getting close, trusting and all of that, we’ve skipped.” He felt her shudder. At least her arms were around his waist, even if they were loose. He kissed the top of her head. “I’m not any more versed in relationships like this, than you are, Briane. Only what I observed in the family, and there’s more good than bad ones.” He sighed and rubbed her back. “I haven’t forgotten, or ignored or not thought, of the things that are going to matter to you, when the sensual haze isn’t there. Yes, I have a past. One I’m regretting, but…” She pushed back. He let her lean that way in his arms, giving her room so that she was gazing up at him. She had washed most of her make-up off, but that did not lessen the beauty of her eyes, or the damned alluring picture her face made; the skin smooth, cheeks naturally flushed… Briane whispered, “You’re a good lover, Jason. I’ve never

been with a man like you, and whatever memories I had, they weren’t close and intimate… being so aware of each other, like that...” That sounded too much like a but, was coming, or an ending. “That’s only a short preview. And damn if you didn’t blow my mind too.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips before holding her again. “I’ve never been with a woman like you either. Because all of your responses are honest, it’s the first time I ever…” She filled in softly, “Wasn’t conscious of everything you did?” He husked, “Yeah. It just happened. Needed to, for the both of us.” His eyes shielded away this time. Damn this woman got him. She did. She reached up and turned his face down, so he could see hers. “I enjoyed it…” He released a breath and whispered, “I thought you’d be— but I couldn’t have imagined how it sounded when you said my name like that. The way your body looked, felt, and moved. I swear, Briane, your eyes take me apart. When you were coming, it was vibrating through you—your expression made me glad you were feeling it, and envying you at the same time. I was a breath from exploding myself.” She raked her teeth over her lip and shuddered a sigh. “I don’t know…it’s never been like that. But that…your stash. It reminds me that we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I just don’t know… I…I need to go,” she offered reluctantly. When she got in the car, had her seatbelt on and the engine running, he leaned in and kissed her, saying what he said with a grin he had to force, and thinking to make up lost ground—even while knowing he couldn’t,” Relax and enjoy yourself tomorrow. It is what it is, until you decide differently. We’ll do some singing together Even if I wasn’t…feeling this for you, I’d have to beg for that.” She nodded and smiled briefly “Sure.” “Briane. They didn’t mean anything.” “That’s almost worse.” She stared out her wet windshield. “I believe they didn’t. And maybe I…” “No. It wasn’t like this. They were pick-ups. They…shit. I don’t know, Briane. I took what was there, because what I was needing wasn’t…” His gaze begged her to look at him again, but she

didn’t. “I know you have things to work though, to do. This is going a little fast. But what we just did, it showed the both of us how good we are together. If we were back there, in my bed, I’d love you like that all night.” “I’ve got to slow it down.” She flexed her fingers on the wheel. “I can’t make anymore mistakes.” Glancing at him, she added, “There’s no use of me denying the obvious, because of what just happened. I just don’t know how emotionally dangerous that proves it to be. I’ll see you, okay.” Briane pulled out first, tooting her horn when they drove separate ways. Jason got in his truck and got going—but pulled off in a wide spot, just after the turn off in Copper Creek. The moment the engine stopped, he folded his arms and leaned up, his forehead against them. “Oh, fuck.” He leaned up, rubbing the heels of his hands in his eyes before he sat back, sucking in deep breaths. His hand was not steady as he reached and unlocked the glove box. He tried to remember the blond in the micro bikini, a few of the other girls—two of them topless, but couldn’t. The photos were some given to him at a show. He had hooked up with the blond for an hour. He couldn’t remember much but giving her what she wanted—against the wall sex, with the lead singer. She was already primed and there wasn’t much foreplay or kissing— just stuff….the others were the same, some blur of sex…. He threw them out the open window. Grabbing a cigarette, Jason lit it tensely and shut the glove box, his eyes staring sightless, a tremble all over him. Briane… shit. He would never forget her sounds, her scent, the feel of her body, her taste…everywhere. The silken heat of her sex…her eyes turning deeper green, holding that dreamy, lost expression of falling into that blissful place when she climaxed… He sat back and smoked, and did not like the way his eyes were stinging, didn’t like the tightness in his guts. His mind was trying to warp through every second, and assure himself he had given her good love in the short time they had, because he had kept going under the current himself—been out of his head, turned on from the first kisses. That shit did not happen to Jason Coburn. It didn’t. He never had to replay—never lost himself. When his phone buzzed, he blew smoke, elbows on the

wheel, and head in his hands as he grit out a, “Not now. Really family, not fucking now.” He ignored it as long as he could. Then sitting back, not really interested or up to some joking fest, via text, he hit the button. “What?” “I just passed you on the road,” Mitch offered quietly. “Are you all right?” Instead of answering that, Jason murmured, distracted, “What are you doing up?” “It’s not my bedtime yet. I’m not that damn old.” Mitch grunted on a laugh. Then, “Jason—why don’t you come up to the house?” “Nah, Dad I…” He raked his hand through his hair, let out a breath. He felt out of his body, tense, scared, strange…. “I’m not good company.” “Madeline’s in the bed. It’s her woman’s time, so I ran out to the drugstore for her. I made chicken and dumplings, with cornbread?” Jason bit his lip, for some reason his throat felt so locked up he was afraid to speak. “I’ll expect you in a bit. Drive careful.” Jason put the phone back, sighed again and sat back, staring at the road, before he put the truck in gear and slowly, barely ten mph drove up the hollow. He parked at his Dad’s, still feeling out of his body, shaking, chilled, which was damned odd. He got out, wishing he had just made a better excuse and headed home. He reached the porch. Mitch was already there and opened the door. Jason stepped inside, wiping his shoes on a mat. He followed his dad to the harvest table. A low light under the counter and one in the hall gave enough illumination so that he saw his bowl of food was ready, milk, and buttered cornbread beside it. He went to the sink and washed his hands, then sat down. Mitch sat across from him, his own food there. Even though he knew his dad was gazing at him broodingly, Jason reached for the spoon, his hand shook while he scooped the first warm bite. He ate. His dad ate. Rain dripped outside, a clock ticked. The comforting scent of the chicken, dumplings and

cornbread mingled with some breezy candle aroma. Finished, Jason carried the bowl to the sink and carefully washed it. He set it in the drainer, washed his glass, and then blindly glanced up at the rain-streaked window. Everyone knew by now he’d sang to Briane. He heard Mitch say softly, while reaching around him to deposit his own bowl and glass, “You were with her tonight?” Jason nodded, only half-aware he gripped the sink. He felt rushes of emotions, sights and sounds; aware Mitch looked at him —wishing he were just at his house already. Adrenaline had his skin too sensitive. He was not a man to lose control of his emotions, and yet he knew… “I gotta go.” He turned and glanced at Mitch, appalled that his eyes were stinging. “Thanks for…” He sucked in air and headed for the door. Out on the porch, his father stepped in front of him, and then hugged him, as if he was a little boy again. Jason pat his back in a manly way but his voice broke when Mitch let him go. Saying, “I don’t fucking like this much.” He headed for the steps, but two down was bent over, sucking in breaths. “Brook was right. This shit sucks.” Mitch sat on the banister, his voice easy to hear over the drip of rain. “I know.” Jason looked up and uttered with tense emotions, “One damn second of doing the wrong thing, not doing the right thing, feeling like you could blow it— and all your cocksure ideas that you know her, knowing you really don’t when she…” “—Comes apart at a touch.” Jason nodded. Mitch murmured, “She cries but is too strong to show you. She doubts, and won’t talk about it. She is too much a mystery still —and that scares you, because you already know…you can’t lose her. It’s the first time in your life you’ve felt this way. The emotions drive you crazy, make you lose sleep…” Jason turned and stared up at Mitch. He remembered all that time when he was a kid, all those years Mitch loved Madeline. All the sleepless nights of his dad pacing, or just distant—sitting with his guitar. He remembered the feeling—of not knowing how to help or what was really wrong because he was a kid. He

remembered it all. He murmured, “I told her to relax, enjoy tomorrow, and that we’d sing maybe. I could feel her crawling back into that protective skin. This is not me, Dad. I am easy going; I have a good sense of humor. I know she does, and I want to be enjoying this…attraction. I want her to—but I swear to God, the moment she looked at me at that airport—it was like, she knew me. I can’t even explain it. It’s as if she was there, in my head, forever. It shook me. It still does. I’d swear to you, that I know her somewhere inside me, I feel…” Jason shook his head. He sounded fucking crazy. Mitch listened with a slight smile on his lips. He had compassion in his eyes though, because he’d made no secret that he wanted Jason to fall in love and find a woman who understood him—find one who would challenge and take him places emotionally he’d never let himself go. Mitch said, “You regret the reputation you’ve made. It’s not so cool anymore. It makes you less confident. Less yourself, because you don’t want to pay for it by losing the woman who matters. But you know Jason, it’s not just you. Briane has regrets of her own. Just relax, son. Everything you build, every little effort you put into showing her who you are, will matter in the end. Enjoy her like you really want to, and pay attention to what makes her happy, or what makes her draw back. If you feel like this is the only woman you want in your bed, in your life, then you want her to know there’s more to you than anyone else sees.” Jason looked at his truck, he stood in a muse when he heard Mitch say, “Good night, son. I’ll be cooking in the morning. Won’t be as many here because of the mud and rain. Should be a good time.” “I love you, Dad.” Jason didn’t even recognize his own raspy voice. “I know. You too.” The door shut. He walked down to his truck and got in, backing down to his drive and then swinging around to head up it. Jason took a long steaming shower before he crawled into bed. A thunderstorm broke with lightening. He couldn’t call her, it was too late at night. Besides, she had never invited him to. He slept… sometime in the morning.

Chapter 10 “Are you sure, you’re all right?” Briane frowned at Kiera as they sat in their sweats with after breakfast coffee. Mora was still asleep. Briane hadn’t slept until daylight herself. Her emotions were just all over the place. “I’m okay.” Kiera pulled her knees up on the sectional. “You’re not. When I came in last night, you were sitting here in the dark, biting your nails.” Kiera studied her. “Did you go home with Jason?” “Yes.” Her sister smiled. Briane knew Kiera, and there was something in her eyes. “You’re not going to the Coburn’s today?” “No. I need some time…” “I’ll take Mora. You need time alone? Then tell me, please, what has upset you. Is there something wrong with the business?” “No.” Kiera set the coffee on the table; her arms wrapped around herself, the silken strands of her hair touched her cheeks as she looked out toward the deck and then back. “Rafael decided on one of the houses. We’re touring it next week, getting an idea of how much it would take to convert everything.” Watching her chew her lip, those gray eyes still too troubled, Briane laid her hand on her sister’s knee and leaned against her. “What’s wrong then? I know you, Kiera….you’re troubled.” Almost too softly, Kiera said, “I’m a terrible person.” “What? Don’t be silly.” Briane leaned back enough to stare at her. However, those dove eyes held anxiety. “It’s a terrible thing— his girlfriend died, and the way she had to go. His voice just aches when he mentions it. The other day, we were at the park, sitting there, talking, while Mora played, and he asked me about Da and Ma. I just went blathering and going on, like I never do or have. I sounded resentful. I don’t know. He told me about his growing up. I feel blessed by comparison.” Kiera shook her head. “It’s hard to believe, because he is successful, and he is so confident, no matter who we’re talking to. He has this charisma. The…last evening, when he brought food

and we ate, we were talking I realized I had never talked so much to a fella in my life. Not even to Mike, though we only went together a week, before I... slept with him.” “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying someone’s company, and conversations, Kiera. Certainly it helps, because you’ll be in business and be around each other, and you’ll have mutual friends.” “I know… but I feel…and it’s not as if you can look at him, and not feel (that) because of his eyes, Jaysus… that hair and those lips…He always smells nice and dresses well. We were talking about playing soccer. We were taking a break, I had the ball out back and Mora and I were kicking it around. He joined us. He’s good. We had fun.” “Nothing wrong with—” “God, but there is.” Kiera looked like she might cry. “I was trying to kick the ball free of him. My hands went to his arms when I fell off balance.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m ashamed of myself. He is a man grieving his love. I felt him, that heat of his skin, and it wasn’t like I haven’t fought not to feel what I feel when I’m around him…right from the first…” “What happened?” “I froze. Just bloody, found myself gazing at his smiling lips. Oh, Briane, they are sinful sexy. And I don’t know how long I clutched him, but when I shook myself, I was—mortified.” “What did he do?” “He’s a smooth and sophisticated man. He engaged Mora in play and they took the ball in. By the time I joined him, Mora was in the bedroom on the lap top, he showed me brochures.” “None of that makes you a terrible person. He is a young, virile, extremely good-looking man. And, he’s charismatic.” “It’s everything. Watching him with the customers at the restaurant. When he does business. Or like the other day, he’s driving me back to the car, and I find myself gazing at him—and when he smiles, it’s like—Oh, God.” “I don’t think being attracted to Rafe makes you bad, or anything else. I know you are a compassionate person, Kiera. Jaysus. I doubt there is anyone who has met you, would say otherwise. You need to not feel guilty because you are a normal woman. Thank God, you are. You have always punished yourself

for your mistake with Michael. The shite bastard.” Kiera shook her head, biting her nails before she put her hands between her knees. “Rafael was in love with Brook too.” “I think so. Although she says not. But what’s to that? He isn’t now.” “He’s in mourning.” “Yes.” Briane arched her brow. “You think you have to purge your mind of impure thoughts because the man is going through something emotional? I don’t see why. Your compassion for him is genuine. You know what loss and suffering is. So is the attraction —genuine too.” “I’m afraid I won’t hide it well.” Kiera got to her feet, pacing, having her arms folded tight. “I don’t want to mess up this chance, Briane. Rafe has brilliant ideas. He is dedicated to seeing it succeed. We are taking a trip next week after I put Mora in summer school, to see suppliers. He has some business to do and told me he’s going to hire Mitch and some of the Coburn’s to do any remodel on the house…” “You need me to pick up Mora after school.” “Yes. I’m sorry.” Kiera winced. “I forgot to ask.” “No problem. You’ll be out of town?” “Yes. Rafe says we can stay at a hotel or he’ll drive me back…” “You nervous about—” ‘No. Of course not. I am not worried about that. He is very polite. He treats all females charmingly.” Kiera sucked in a long breath and let it out. “He makes everything easy, being around him. He makes me laugh, on purpose, I know. And I feel so bloody, bloody, guilty, because of what he’s been through.” Briane resisted a smile, mentally shaking her head, but she murmured, “Come here.” When Kiera was in the spot she’d pat, Briane put her arm around her and stroked her hair. “Oh, Jaysus, Briane, I’ve never felt like this.” Briane replied, “You’ve never met anyone like Rafael. You are an intelligent and strong woman, Kiera. With a lot to offer the world and anyone, you care for. Neither of us has made such sweeping changes in our lives, as we have since moving here.

You’re anxious about much, and I am too.” “... Did you make love with Jason?” “We…he’s a lover like you can’t imagine. At least, I didn’t think men really touched you that way, and made you feel like that….” “Wow.” Briane laughed softly. It was something she picked up from Brook, and Kiera picked it up from her. It was apt, though. Yeah— wow. After a moment Kiera murmured, “I’ve been over what Mike put me through, the pregnancy and his abandoning me, all that, for a very long time. I still dream of killing him, when I flash back to Mora’s terror that night—all the nights after. However, I know why I slept with him. I just wanted someone to care for me—and got caught up in the sexual.” Kiera sighed. “About two years ago, I was working late at the shop. This bloke came in, and I had seen him before with his friend, who was getting married. Anyway, we talked, and that night I….fooled around with him.” Briane rubbed her shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that.” “No. I wouldn’t give him my number, and I didn’t want to encourage him. I discouraged him.” “And now you’re wondering why you have to be feeling all this for a guy who’s not emotionally ready?” “Yes. Something to that effect.” “Hmm. I don’t think there is an answer. I don’t think there needs to be a reason. There’s this man, dark, sensual, handsome. A person with super charisma, who happens to be successful and he treats you like an adult woman, a business partner, and makes you laugh. I’d say that’s powerful and significant compared to the past.” Mora awoke and they heard her in the bathroom. Briane got to her feet. She told her sister, “I’m going to cook something to take to Mitch and Madeline’s. You get Mora ready to come with me. Then take a long bubble bath, light candles, drink some wine… fantasize, guilt free…” Kiera laughed but did get Mora ready, dressing her in denims and pink shirt and sneakers, after feeding her breakfast. Briane cooked two traditional dishes, Irish spice Bread and

Walnut mince tarts, and put them in the backseat of the car. Having showered the night before, she brushed her teeth, put on mascara and moisturizer, then her jeans, ankle boots, a casual hoodie. “Mind Auntie.” Mora waved, holding Briane’s hand. Briane laughed, they were in the car on the way, and Mora, who had called Jett, to see if she was at Mitch’s, said, “Mum’s having a girl day, painting her toenails and taking a bubble bath.” Jett replied, “Mine does that too. I don’t like toenail polish. Sometimes Dad polishes her toes. I brought my DS, so we can play.” “We’re almost here. Bye.” Briane pulled in, noticing less vehicles, and able to get in the drive. She didn’t see Jason’s truck, but recognized his voice when they carried the dishes up to the porch. “Welcome.” Mitch put aside his guitar, grinning at Mora. “Jett and some others are in the den.” He stood and took one of the plates from Briane. GW was sniffing the air. “Smells good.” He came over and though Mitch tried to move away, had the lid off and grabbed one of the slices. Grinning, Briane saw Coy and Jason reach for GW’s and break off a piece. “There’s enough, I promise.” She and Mitch carried it inside. Placing it on the table, she smiled at Madeline. Taking the hug Madeline gave her, as well as Ruby. “Hey.” Brook came out of the family room with the baby. Madeline took Maddy from her. “Get something to drink and let’s go outside. Renee and Sunny are coming today.” Briane got a soda and walked out with Brook. Mitch was leading the song and they were singing (That’s what I like about Sunday.) Mitch moved to sit on the banister without missing a chord. She and Brook took the swing. Briane observed that Brook positively glowed—and thought she knew why. Her friend was in a comfortable running suit of deep purple, her make-up nice, her hair fresh styled and sleek. She did not miss the fact Coy looked relaxed and smiling too.

Brook hummed the song, and Briane finally glanced at Jason, his back against a brace, sitting on the banisters. She would be afraid of falling but they obviously were used to doing it, since he was singing and gazing around, enjoying himself. When his eyes met hers at the last strum, he grinned and winked. She smiled slightly and thought about the night before, feeling her body respond, her cheeks flush. Wow, chemistry, sexual awakenings, emotions, what it was like to be sitting across from a sexy, masculine and beautiful man—you were doing sexy things with the night before. Wild. She now knew what those semi-full lips felt and tasted like. She now knew why his jeans fit so good, and god in heaven, what those light aqua eyes when he was turned on… Would she ever be able to look at his strong hands and not remember how skillfully, wonderfully they could touch, stir, caress her… Had he touched those women the same way? Coy was talking to Mitch. Renee and Sunny arrived. Briane stood and did the cheek kissing, making room for Renee on the swing, and watching Sunny take a rocker, noting his hair was back and braided, so that it hung down his back. He wore denims and a tennis style jacket of red, a casual sport shirt of white under it. Renee looked pretty, in low-rise trousers, lots of angled pockets and drawstrings, a top that was cotton, criss cross fabric on the breast, in a deep maroon color. She had a style all her own. They swung slowly. Briane, for all she was trying to attend conversation, was skimming over Jason as he talked and joked, reaching now and then to sip from a coffee cup. His denims had frayed bottoms and a few slashed places above the knee. His black T-shirt molded his fine muscular torso. It had a flying guitar on the front. She looked at his hands, his mouth…Jaysus, that luscious mouth. Rene leaned her head and murmured in her ear, “Between Brook’s sighing and your expression gazing at Jason’s mouth— I’m going to end up dragging Sunny down to Mitch’s barn.” Briane turned her head swiftly and looked at her. “I’m kidding—not.” Renee laughed wide-eyed. Cheeks flushed, Briane saw Brook grinning and knew she’d put Renee up to saying that.

She murmured so only they could hear. “You’re one to talk.” Brook snickered. “I got some after breakfast this morning. God…I must have come six times. Had to throw the sheets in the washer—to put the fire out.” Renee exploded with laughter, as did Briane, and Brook. Brook managed to add, “Thunder rolled, heaven opened and I was sing—ing soprano….” Wiping tears from her eyes, the swing jiggling because Renee was howling, stomping her feet, Briane realized the men had stopped talking and were watching them. GW spit snuff over the side of the porch, grinning. Mitch looked at the others. Though Briane hoped the girls wouldn’t share the private joke — she thought the men got it when Renee, catching her breath, shoved Brook’s shoulder and laughed, “You’re so full of shit. “ “I’m not kidding. I read about it in a magazine, something about after the baby…taking those pills that make you contract…” “Jaysus.” Briane got up, blushing blood red, and walked toward the steps. “Going for a smoke,” she said by GW and headed to her car. When she heard the men laugh all at once, she knew they figured it out—or one of the girls had shared the joke... Getting a cigarette from the purse she’d left in there and then headed back, Briane took her time walking up the steps. She released smoke—groaned mentally as a grinning Jason met her, and lit his own on the landing. He murmured over the men’s remaining chuckles and talk, “There’s no room up there with Coy’s swelled head.” She laughed, tried to look around casually, but their eyes met anyway. His shimmering aqua. Hers, likely showing they were both thinking about last night, the damn chemistry was over the top between them now anyway. He took a drag, murmured after blowing the smoke, “They’re laughing as much at the fact Brook’s turning more a Coburn everyday. She wouldn’t have joked like that in mixed company a year ago.” Briane nodded. “She has a bawdy sense of humor in private. We used to joke a lot about this one guy in the band who…”

Jason raised his brow. “Got, ah—excited—on stage. He always wore the tightest trousers. I could hardly sing thinking of the things Brook used to say after the shows.” He laughed. “Um.” He watched her face, brow still raised. She couldn’t repeat it. However, said, “Her best one had something to do with him needing a knothole in the back of his guitar.” Jason’s bass laugh rumbled at that. She laughed too. It felt good. They finished their cigarettes, and he invited, “Come on. Let’s do a song.” Briane walked up on the porch, ignoring winks from Brook and wiggled brows from Renee—along with some lip pursing. Coy was now sitting beside his wife. Mitch was at the far end with GW and Jude had joined them. Others came out; found a spot on the banister, most of them with a beer or plate of chili and cornbread. Jason offered her a rocker. When she sat, he angled one toward her. Briane sensed more than saw others inside the house, either at the screen door or one of the windows, listening and watching. Jason plucked, tuned, and studied her while others talked softly around them. Briane tried to be casual about the way he searched her gaze, or seemed to read her face. “This your key?” He strummed several times. “Good enough.” She could adjust and sing a range, but Jason had a deep bass, so she’d pick up with her finer ear once their voices were sounding. He winked and sat back. His gaze holding hers while he did the intro to Uncle Kracker’s (smile) As soon as they started singing, she could feel the others smiling indeed. It was a good first song to sing together—though Jason’s wink and grin at her made it hard to not be light hearted and enjoying it… (Don't know how I lived without you, 'Cuz everytime that I get around you, I see the best of me inside your eyes. You make me smile. The last lines, Jason sang grinning at her, so everyone on

the porch laughed and clapped. Briane found herself laughing too. Madeline stepped out and handed her an iced soda. “Sounded great. I love your voice. Now do another one.” Briane nodded and took a sip, setting the soda by her feet and glancing at Jason, who was finger picking. He murmured under the talk, “Rascal Flatts. Bless the Broken road.” Briane nodded but mentally braced herself….Singing the chorus with him in lead…and trying not to feel what she felt when they sang…(Every long lost dream led me to where you are Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars Pointing me on my way into your loving arms. This much I know is true. That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you.) After another song, thankfully a lighter one, as if Jason felt as she did—not only the “thing” between the two of them, but that everyone else was intently trying to read the message—and Briane wasn’t revealing much, Mitch made them go eat. She checked on Mora who was coloring with Jett and made sure she had eaten, and then got herself a plate while talking to Madeline and Ruby—who were working on things for The Mill opening. Briane could hear Brook and Rene singing along with others. After getting a soda, she went out back. The picnic table had been rained on, so she fetched one of the dry lawn chairs and sat, watching the horses graze up in the field, a dog yapping and running around muddy there too. The sun was trying to stay out though clouds drifted occasionally. Eating the chili and cornbread, sipping and icy beer, she had her feet up on a stump, just lost in a muse, when Mitch joined her. “Great chili,” she grinned at him. He lowered into his own chair. “Thank you.” Gazing up at the field, he told her, “Max called me yesterday. He does all the promo images for The Mill. He is going to fly back early, and catch your rehearsal and do your shots. They’ll not only go on the website, but the posters and TV ads. He has an artist eye and insists on meeting the person, getting a feel for everything. He’s really excited, because you’re a friend of Brooks.” “I’ve heard so much about him, and actually, was listening in a few times on conversations Brook had with him. I know he has

been a successful reporter, writer, and photographer. Amazing guy. You make handsome sons.” Mitch smirked with pride. “I do, don’t I.” She laughed. “No denying it.” He lit a cigarette and went on, “You’ll be booked under one name, Briane. Is that okay?” “Sure.” He smiled and slanted a glance at her. “You’re easy to please.” “You’re doing a lot for me, you and the family. Not that long ago I lived 99 percent of my time on the road. Making enough maybe to pay for gas. Even when I had a steady gig, it was hard to be unique. Here, I just am. Because of Brook, because of Sunny, and what you’re doing at The Mill, I can have the best of both worlds.” Mitch nodded and studied her pensively. “Since the guys let me in on it, I’m impressed with what you’re doing. It brings a completely new dimension to the shows. I told Madeline, after I came and watched you play the first time—when Briane gets her feet under her, just watch her fly.” Briane flushed. “I dream big, or at least, I’ve learned to—that doesn’t always mean people will enjoy it.” “People come to the show from everywhere, all around the world too. We have two groups from Canada this year, and we’re getting interest from others, more Irish and Scots, too. All that means we can think bigger for The Mill and—if the shows do well, we’ll eventually have an indoor, year round show.” Briane knew about the recent folding of his company, one he had started in his early twenties. She said, “I hope I do my part. If there’s anything else I can do, I truly mean that, I’m in.” He thanked her. Briane watched the dog come to the fence, barking to Mitch. She laughed when the animal, he called Nipper, dashed down the hill and to his side. Patting that muddy head, Mitch whistled and told him, “Go back. Watch the horses.” The dog bounded off. “Can I ask you a question?” Briane turned her head toward him, having set her beer and the bowl aside, now absently playing with the string on her hoodie.

Those blue eyes, so like Jason’s, turned to her. “Sure.” . “Where does your strength come from?” He looked away, obviously thought awhile, then replied, “Different things, my faith, experience, mistakes, Madeline—many times—because we’re together.” He glanced at her. “But everyone isn’t strong all the time.” Briane nodded and heard Jason’s voice, gathering he was coming outside. Mitch arose and leaned down, saying before Jason reached her, “He cares for you, Briane.” She was absorbing that when Jason came into her view. He reached for her hand, “Come on. We’re going to Uncle Jude’s to shoot a game of pool.” “But Mora…” “Madeline and Ruby are here and offered to watch her. She’s content with Jett and the others. Brook and Coy, Renee and Sunny, are coming. We’ll only be a couple of hours.” Briane walked around the house with him, then down the road to Jude’s with the whole group—laughing because Brook was razzing the men, claiming they were going to be “schooled.” Jude’s house was nice, open, and rustic. There were touches of artistic and funky, she knew Ruby had contributed. They went into a high ceiling game room with pictures of cars and motorcycles on the walls and its own bar, several wide padded benches. Coy found the sound system and had oldies/ Big Bopper and Little Richard, the Temptations, and Motown hits, filling the room soon. Once everyone got into it, there followed some hilarious moments—mostly provided by Coy, who pinched Brook’s ass to mess up her shot, and even Sunny, who started singing some faux Indian chant when Renee tried to line up a shot—claiming he was bringing good magic to the game was all. As for herself, Briane held her own, taking their teasing at her slang and Irish expressions of frustration with some imitations of their own southern drawls. She laughed more than she had in awhile, high five’d Brook and Renee, did some happy dances around the room.

The men whooped, yelled, cussed, and came damn near to cheating with their distracting the women. It ended tense, with Renee getting off the tie-breaking shot. They screamed and danced, Brook smacking her booty at Jason, who threatened to spank it before that set off a round of “inside” jokes from Brook and Coy, that had them all chuckling. Briane went to the restroom, returning to find the others sitting around talking. Jason was in the middle of telling some story about himself and Coy at a bar, when Coy was playing pro ball, and it ended in a fight—sounded like they held their own, but she laughed when he said they had crawled on the floor to the door, to get out alive. Brook glanced at the clock. “Have to go. Get the kids in bed.” Everyone cleaned up. Briane walked beside Jason back to Madeline’s. She observed Coy with his arm around Brook. Sunny held Renee’s hand. It was not as if she didn’t (feel) Jason. She had been aware of him all day. When they started up the steps, their arms brushed. Briane heard his release of breath. Her own was unsteady. They could arouse each other. She knew what being intimate with him was like. It was hard not to touch and kiss him. She had to get home early too. Mora would start classes at the school the next day. After a bear hug from GW and several others, she went inside and helped Jason clean up. Ruby and Jude were out on the porch talking to Madeline and Mitch. Reaching him the last bowl for the dishwasher, Briane dried her hands and leaned her hip against the sink. Since everyone was gone or leaving, most of the lights were down except in the den. Jason took the dishtowel and dried his hands too. Then he leaned down and kissed her, swift, supple enough to make her draw in a breath. Straightening, Jason said softly, “I can’t walk you to the car and kiss you, you have Mora.” He came to stand in front of her, pressing her against the counter. “No.” His dark looks and build, his voice, reminded her so vividly what a strong and masculine man he was…. His hands cupped her hips. “Busy week, your work, the shows, rehearsal and my job…” “Yes.” “Call me.”

She hesitated. “Okay.” He lowered his head, kissed her soft, moaned a little. Kissed her a bit deeper. Afterwards, lips near her ear, his hand easing down to rub her pubis, he murmured, “How long is your lunch break?” Arms around his neck, she mumbled, “Not long enough—for that.” Shite. She wanted him. She had enjoyed him today—Jason, the family, the whole freaking nice day… He skimmed his hand up around, rubbing her ass. Those lips grazed her ear again, putting chills over her body, stirring it, along with the deep timbre of his voice when he asked, “Can we work in a dinner?” “Thursday, after my set.” “I’ll pick you up at the house. I have to work late…” His sexy mouth went down the side of her neck. “Okay.” Briane wanted to moan. “But this…” “I’ve been good all day. Just let me kiss you.” Planting supple kisses he finally raised his head and regarded her expression, which she knew, held all the sensuality she was feeling. “You enjoy yourself today?” “Had a blast.” “Me too. Call me, Briane—anytime.” She bit her lip, feeling his heat, breathing his scent, so aware that his warm body was aroused too. Jason kissed her again, deliberate, sensual, and Briane forgot where she was. Her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape. When he skimmed his palms up, caressing her sides and hips, higher to the side of her breast, she moaned softly. Neither heard Mitch and Madeline come in. After spying the couple in the kitchen; they exchanged a smile and went to talk to Mora. Released at some endless moment, Briane let out a few unsteady breaths. Her eyes observed him roll his lips to savor the taste. “I got to go.” Her legs were shaking. “I know.” He blew a long breath and stepped back. “Please call me.” “I will.”

She went around the counter and into the den. “Hey, ready to go?” she asked her niece. Mora smiled and nodded. She told Mitch and Madeline, “Thank you for the nice day.” “You’re welcome.” Madeline helped her on with a light Jacket. They hugged Briane. Madeline whispered, “We’re always stronger than we assume. Love is just a word until it becomes a million crazy emotions. Sometimes it aches, feels like we’re dying…but in the end, everything is worth it.” Briane met her gaze for a long moment and then left, with Mora, chatting all the way home, and asking questions about The Mill. The kids had already told her Jason would let them sleep at his house, swim and watch movies. Sounds great, Briane told her—wishing she was somewhere wet, with Jason Coburn—absolutely disgusted with her lack of will power to resist him. She did the whole (we can have the sexual, I am an adult.)And that didn’t fly. She’d had a thing for him, and her defenses were down. Everything in her wanted to trust him, believe him, and give into him.

Chapter 11 The week was crushingly hectic. Briane felt like she was in three different worlds, with her day job at The Tavern—which were her most relaxed times, because Nick and the customers made it so, and her rehearsals with her boys, as well as the two sets she did. Friday, she would meet up with them at the Old Mill and rehearse. She called Brook on Tuesday— Brook having the clinic opening on her mind, as well as her own band’s performance, and was running in the same circles they all were. “Is it a good time to come by and go over the song?” “Great time. Everyone is mellow. I’ve got dinner, so if you’re hungry—” “Be there in a half hour.” Brine had enough time to go home, shower, put her hair in a tail, and then dress in denims, sweatshirt, and her running shoes. It was lovely, just like the pictures. The drive to the lake was as nice as when she parked and met Brook on the wrap around deck, standing there awhile gazing out over the lake. “You can see Max’s house.” Brook pointed. “There, is where we do the 4th of July picnic, after a show at The Mill. Crazy shit goes on, just as the pictures and film I sent prove. But it is the most fun you’ll ever have. Everyone works so hard during the year, that’s really their time to cut loose” “I hated missing your wedding.” Brook put an arm around her. “I wish I’d known what you and Kiera were going through.” “I didn’t want to worry you. You had enough going on…” “Didn’t I just.” Brook laughed. They walked to the back deck. Brook said, “Coy is napping with Maddy and Levi is in his room doing homework—though probably sneaking and playing a video game.” Briane took a seat; picking up the guitar that rested there and gazing out at the rippling water. The sun wasn’t quite set yet. Brook murmured musingly, “I got an interesting call this week?” “Yeah?”

“Rafe.” Briane looked at her. “Why interesting. He’s still doing well—” “Doing great, considering. I can tell he is really into the catering thing. Our relationship has changed, still close. He is Maddy’s Godfather. I know he and Coy talk. Rafe is affectionate and wonderful to me as always…But back before—we could joke, tease about things that are more personal. It is not just his mourning, but also my being a mother…and his own life transitions, I believe. It makes me feel good for him—that moving on, growing. Even pain sometimes helps us get somewhere we need to be,” Briane nodded. Her fingers picked a tune softly. Brook’s violet eyes held a certain spark. “He was talking casually and so I take it he and Kiera spend a lot of time together? He knows more about her than I do. In any case, he was talking about this trip out of town, and I sensed something in his tone...” “Yeah?” Brook smiled. “I may be wrong—but I think he likes her.” “Is that okay—with you?” “My God, yes.” Brook snorted. “I’d be over the moon.” “It’s still too soon for him.” Brook winced but shrugged. “He’s young, passionate, and human—needs someone to touch and be touched by. How long has it been, if ever, that Kiera let a man in her life? She is beautiful and intelligent, unique. You and I know there’s grit and fire in that woman.” “She… likes him.” Brook’s brow rose. Briane nodded, “Yes, that kind.” Then she told her what Kiera confided. “Oh, Briane. I hope they find a way to reach each other.” After talking a bit more, some about the clinic, they sang together, going over the song and tweaking their duet. Brook said, when they felt right about it, “Since I had Maddy, I feel like I need to do this for my Mother. For Mitch too, but it so personifies my Mom.” “It does. It’s perfect.” They hugged. Brook walked her to the car, making some joke about how

Jude never gave her one of his classics. Brine leaned out the window. “I think he knew I’d buy it. Kiera too.” “Yeah, he’s a Coburn. They’re pretty damn smart.” She was driving back when the cell rang. Briane dug it out of her purse. “Briane.” “Hey.” “Jason.” “I tried your home phone.” “I’ve been to Brook’s house, I’m just driving down the road now.” He sighed. “Want to turn up my drive and let me crawl in your car and eat you—” “—Yeeees. But—I’ll see you Thursday.” She laughed. Mentally groaning, Jaysus, he knew how to make a woman wet. “Okay. I have a long day too. I hear Max is coming back early?” “Um.” He laughed. “You can tell me anything….bout your show.” Snickering, she offered, “Good try.” “Obviously not. But, I am getting excited for you. Have you been dreaming?” “Yes…writing, dreaming and soul searching—finally taking bigger and deeper breaths.” “Good. You are amazing, talented, and God-gifted. You are strong, passionate, and soulful. You have been blessed with something you can’t hide. You must not. It was given to you to use for joy, for balm, for touching others.” He let a moment pass then. “Until tomorrow. Night, Briane.” “Night.” She clicked off and dropped the phone in her purse. “I wish I was with you, letting you do whatever you want…Jason Coburn…” Briane blew out a breath. Thursday…. **** Kiera got back from her out of town trip around 3:Am Tuesday, so on Thursday, Jason picked Briane up and took her to his house, where he had take out from Rafe’s, spread on the coffee table.

“Crazy week,” Jason said as they wasted little time filling plates then sitting on huge cushions he had thrown down, drinking limewater. Drained from the pace of the week, and doing her show, Briane nodded, ate, and then sat back with a sigh. “I’ve lost track of the hours and days.” When he was done, Jason got them coffee and plopped down beside her. “I could take you to bed, cuddle and sleep.” “Me too.” she sighed. “Let’s do.” She watched him yawn hugely. “Okay, but set a clock, two hours. I’ve still got stuff to do tonight.” “Me too. I have to help Dad at The Mill, and Coy’s taking care of contacts with vendors. Max text’d me at work today and wants me to run some extra power…There’s preparing for rain too…” He took her hand, led her into his nice, mellow, bedroom, where the blocked brown and bronze spread was turned down and the sheets looked inviting. He set the alarm clock across from the bed. They laughed as he removed his socks and shirt, and fell back on the pillow with a moan. In the black dress she had worn, Briane had left her shoes in the living room; she crawled up and into his arms. They sighed. Jason murmured, “My intention was a slow seduction, really mind blowing lovemaking…I expounded on it hour by hour.” His arms around her, her eyes closed, breathing against his chest, Briane murmured, “After opening night at The Mill.” “Oh, yes.” His hands smoothed her back. “All night long. I want to taste, smell, feel—hear you call my name. I want to love you until you can’t think straight and I can’t move anymore.” She groaned, “You let the kids stay here?” “Damn, I forgot. Yeah, some of the women stay with them, teens too. Your place?” “We’ll go back to my place.” Her sister would find a discreet way to give her privacy…. “You smell wonderful.” “So do you.” Weak, she was so weak, so wanting…. “I’m so hot for you.”

She was turned on too. Yet her hand merely caressed his back, and his lips grazed her hair. He murmured, “I was going to ask you, tonight—if I could be, your man….your fella? While she was soaking that in, knowing he put it that way because of how she used the term fella…he drifted into sleep. Briane quickly followed with their legs tangled and the hush of early night bringing the deepest peace. The warning screams in her head may as well have been weak whispers for all they worked. And how could they, wrapped in Jason’s arms, lying in his bed…sleeping the sweetest slumber…. **** Kiera parked on the street, in front of the white frame house and got out her mind’s eye already seeing a quaint sign outside that would read Kiera’s Catering on it. Her pump heels clicked on the walkway and up the steps to the wide porch. Too excited to go home and change after meeting with one of their suppliers, she still wore her oatmeal skirt, white sleeveless blouse, and straw colored pumps. She dug out her keys to unlock the door—frowning when it opened by itself. “Oh—” She blinked at Rafael, who held the inside knob. “I didn’t know you were here. Your car—” “In the shop. I had one of the girls from the restaurant drop me off.” He held the door wide. She walked in, noting from the corner of her eye that he wore navy blue slacks and a deep blue shirt with funky streaks of silver from shoulder to hem. He told her while closing the door, “I wanted to see what the kitchen looked like gutted. Mitch said for me to send him measurements. Soon as The Mill opening is over, he’ll get on the remodel.” “I did too.” she waved her and smiled guiltily, “wanted to see it.” His answering smile tightened her stomach muscles. Rather than linger on his handsome face, Kiera jerked her eyes away and walked through a high-ceiling wood-floored main room. The house was in remarkably good shape. The octagon room would be perfect for meeting clients. It had lovely walls of long windows. The kitchen area was through two double French

doors. Rafe stepped around her to open them, and for the thousandth time she reminded herself to ignore his scent, his sexually potent presence. Kiera let her gaze go around the large room. Nothing remained but the plumbing and electrical, which would be updated. She could see stainless steel appliances in her mind’s eye, prep sink on a counter, steel shelves for platters and trays…she could envision everything so easily…. “It’s almost a reality.” Glancing aside, she realized Rafe had been watching her face. “So close I can taste it.” She grinned and sighed long. “I’m pinching myself, right up till opening day.” Walking around a bit, they talked about what would go where. Now that he had measurements for the ovens and such, it was much easier to plan. It was an amazing space. Both sides of the kitchen had doors leading out to the wrap around porches. Great for both deliveries and for moving foods out into the truck they were ordering. It had freaking built in coolers and warmers. How cool was that? Leaving that area, she strode slowly back to the foyer and down a short space to the staircase, going up to the living area above. She could hear Rafe behind her. “I can’t believe this has an on suite bath.” She stood in the master bedroom, her favorite—with vaulted wood ceiling, antique lighting, and a good size bath. Walking over to a window seat, she put her knee on it and opened the windows, gazing down at the small park and trail. “Great view.” Rafe sat on that same seat and looked out, “Far enough from town to be quiet, and close enough to get to anything you need.” Kiera glanced at him, to say something and noticed he was gazing at her ankle. “I’ve never noticed that.” He murmured, Kiera shivered, watching his tawny fingers come and touch the tattoo on her bare ankle. She tried to stem the riot of emotions inside her. She was a terrible person. She tried, hard—to not feel what she did around him. He said softly, “That’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She heard the hoarseness in her tone, her hands flexed on the sill. Rafe was tracing the Celtic cross and roses. His dark eyes flickered up. Bloody hell, if she did not have one of those frozen moments when she could scarcely breathe. Dark, liquid, such incredible black eyes. Kiera felt like drowning in them. Her heart thudded. Her lips needed dampened. Her mind was a riot of carnal thoughts… “Kiera?” She jerked away from the window, and walked a space away. “I’m sorry.” She was embarrassingly aware that she had not masked her emotions this time. God, where to run when you were a grown woman and couldn’t? Rafe stood, hands in his pockets, regarding her. Kiera sucked in a breath, rubbing her arms, awkwardly tucking her silken hair behind her ears. Her Back to him, arms folded again, roughly, Kiera cleared her throat. “I’m sorry…I don’t….I’m sorry.” “Hey.” Oh—shite. He was walking toward her. She could hear his foot falls. Rafe stopped. His fingers touched her shoulder. He turned her around, searching her flushed face, something like surprise in those liquid dark eyes. Wetting her lips again, Kiera rushed, “I never want you to feel awkward around me. I don’t want—to ruin our working relationship. I mean… What I…I won’t….” Shite, she sounded like a freaking idiot. He smiled. It nearly buckled her knees. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m not uncomfortable.” She didn’t believe him. Her gray eyes, usually hiding her feelings well, were expressive when she offered; “I’m not like this. I have always been professional and I don’t…I haven’t. Well, you know—I told you about my life.” “Kiera.” He laughed softly. “You’re getting freaked when you don’t have to be.” She was embarrassed, mortified, at herself. There had been a dozen times—having dinner, laughing with him, in his car, when she had wanted so badly to touch or kiss him, to trace his mouth. She had hid it all well, dammit. Until that moment, she stumbled

into him. Now—when he had touched her. He had before, casually, his hand on her spine, her arm, seating her… Jaysus. She was a fool. “I’m sorry.” She turned and headed swiftly out and down the stairs. Rafael was fast on her heels. “I need a lift home.” Mentally groaning, she turned. Her eyes were pleading. “I’m… horrified at myself. You have been nothing but nice to me. You are doing so much, taking this chance on me. You have worked with my schedule, at the park with Mora, whenever…I don’t want to destroy the working relationship we have. I won’t let you down, I promise you.” Rafe came over and tilted up her chin. “Hey…Hey…calm down…Don’t…” She sucked in a breath. “I’m a grown woman, a professional. I don’t—do this—I’m not—” “I’ve spent enough time with you to know how professional and intelligent you are? Aside from being a good mother, you’ve been nothing but professional, Kiera. You are the reason this has come so far so fast. I don’t have any reservations about it.” She closed her eyes a moment, and then opened them slowly. “I can deal with this. I seriously can. Other than…that boy, Mora’s father, I had a brief hour with someone… two years ago.” “Kiera.” However, Kiera had to get it out or burst. “I’m so sorry— because I really understand what you’ve been through. I admire you on so many levels. I have never worked with or been around someone that I click so well with—someone who knows what I am thinking on a creative level, almost instinctively. You have bloody made the tough parts easy, the traveling around and all. You’ve been entertaining, and easy and amusing…” His hand had dropped. Rafe was listening but still had a slight grin on those sensual lips. “People are attracted, Querido. It is nothing to get so upset and embarrassed over. I’m not.” “God. I’m such a…” She bowed her head, rubbing her forehead a moment, before saying, “If everything is off and locked up, sure. I’ll give you a lift.” It was. Out in the car, she glanced in the side mirror, hating herself for noticing that though her cheeks were still flushed, her make-up was still nice, lipstick a bit less shimmery…Oh, yes,

Kiera, you look great for someone making a fool out of themselves. She pulled out, aware of Rafe, sitting relaxed, elbow on the door as she drove out to his house. She felt his eyes on her. The convertible was a dream to drive on nice days like this. Usually she lost herself in it. Not today. Turning off the main road, she glanced over to find he was still studying her. She was so upset. She didn’t know what to say now. When she pulled in his drive, Kiera was aware her skirt was blown up high on her thighs. How self conscious would it be if she tugged it down? Kiera cut the engine and sat there a moment—just wanting to die. Not only because of what she had felt from the first moment, she had met Rafe—but also in his hands were her professional dreams, and she wanted him to see it happen with her. She knew —he wanted to, and enjoyed it. Shite. She hated this. Rafael had gotten out but was leaning on the car, by her door. She turned her head to meet his gaze. “Talk to me,” he coaxed in that comfortable, accented tone. She swallowed and glanced away at his porch, her hands gripping the bottom of the steering wheel. Though summer sounds were alive, a breeze, birds, nice things—Kiera heard herself almost too loud stumbling through, “I’ve never felt this—I saw pictures of you, Brook had some. When we met at The Tavern—I don’t know what happened. I decided I could deal with it. I can. I swear to you. And—I’m—not a heartless woman.” She closed her eyes a moment. “I know that.” “I put it down to normal attraction. It’s there, but it’s more than I have felt. I mean…I am attracted, of course… However, there are these levels and layers. I admire you. You make me laugh, I’ve learned so much watching you, being around you, and …” She shook her head and worried her lip a moment. “I’m bloody sounding stupid, aren’t I?” “No.” Kiera wanted to look at him but didn’t. They had talked, talked of lots of things, his past, his childhood, hers. Ashley— music, books, food—lots of food conversations, sports, children,

studies…and all sorts of subjects. However, this was different. This was them, outside business, their personal selves. She drew in a breath; let it out, managing, “This is probably nothing new to you. I noticed women turn and watch you. They listen…and like talking to and watching you.” She finally looked at him, glancing at his beautiful raven hair ruffled by wind, and those bruised eyes, that sensual face. Kiera did not have to look down his body—she had secretly looked at it often and observed his muscular grace—wanted—to touch his deep almond skin. She’d wrestled sinful thoughts at night, feverish ones, because he had that sensual rawness that made everything, he did put wicked thoughts in a woman’s head. Kiera had never, ever, in her life, wrestled, fought, literally cried at night, over the intense feelings she felt around Rafael. Even his voice was beautiful, softly accented, kind of nice slash seductive. Very different too in this intimate—this is not a business conversation, tone—when he responded, “You’re a beautiful woman. Belleza. Classy, intelligent. I am flattered. I’ve been as impressed with where you’ve taken yourself, from your childhood and teen years—as I have your energy and drive, put into the catering business.” She raked her teeth over her lip. “I don’t want to ruin our business relationship. Rafael. Please….I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “I’m not.” He laughed quietly and reached over touching her cheek. “Relax. You are anticipating some disaster from a little honesty. Even people who do business have personal feelings and attractions. Nothing bad is going to happen because you exposed something you feel.” Kiera looked away. “I don’t do this….” “I know that about you.” She supposed he did. He was still leaning on the car, arms lightly crossed as he regarded her pensively. In his softer accents, he supplied, “Everyone gets lonely, Chiquita.” Kiera’s eyes stung. She blinked. Oh, shit. “I have Mora…and my sister.” “But there’s a different kind?” his tone was hushed. “Yes.” She leaned her head on the rest, her eyes half

shielding but gazing at him as she rasped, “The kind that aches only when you’re alone. I’ve been that kind of alone…most of my life.” His eyes said he understood that she meant from her childhood, the struggle, the confusion when Mike abandoned her, and when he came back, destroyed her life, and harmed her daughter. Kiera knew Rafe had those experiences himself. “Are you going to The Mill opening?” She shook off the miasma. “Wouldn’t miss it.” Kiera nodded, releasing a shaky sigh, figuring she’d go home tonight and bawl or crawl under the sheet—and loathe this hour of weakness. “Come by and collect me, will you?” Kiera nodded. “Around six?” “Yes.” She tried to read his expression, but with her emotions in turmoil, she simply felt that irresistible drawing of herself to him. It was like a sickness, a high, a scary kind of—you make me feel I am not in control of myself. He pulled from the car and came to her, leaning down with a silken brush of that hair on her skin, his breath wafting with a kiss on her cheek. Touching the other with his fingertips, he husked, “Kiera. I’m human, just a man. You know everything I was before and where I have been. Maybe I needed to hear what you’ve said today…” Before she could question him, he turned, walking into the house. Kiera drove home. She cried her make-up off. Since Briane was at rehearsal at The Mill, as soon as she had Mora settled, she went out back with a glass of wine and bawled for a solid hour. She had done it, said it, and exposed it. Unbelievably, she cared more about his personal response than his professional one. Yes, she wanted the dream. But yes, she wanted the man. Finishing off another glass of wine, Kiera wiped her cheeks and thought of her mistakes, her guardedness, depriving herself even when she envied others, because she was afraid to want. Afraid to be used— at the same time understanding a need to feel connected to someone intimately. She had never wanted like this or felt such a powerful attraction to someone. Never felt high, dizzy, scared, hungry,

needing to just drown herself in a man, to feel—purge—Oh God… whatever it was. Kiera wanted to hold Rafe too. She wanted to touch him on some deeper level. It was going to tear her up if she was going to be around him. Unless she had blown things, she would be. Later, Kiera stumbled to bed, not finding the humor to laugh at herself for being tipsy. Because of her Ma, she hardly ever drank more than a pint or one glass of wine. Something hurt inside that had never ached so much before. It was frightening to realize that even the risk of losing it all, wasn’t as scary as never having that ache assuaged. **** Rafael took a shower then pulled on worn denims and went out on the porch, with a corona and his cell. With his tawny bare feet on a small wicker table, he dialed Coy’s cell. “Hey?” “It’s Rafe…” “How you doing? “Good.” A moment passed then Coy said. “I’ve been at The Mill all day, did some TV ads early this morning, just got in. Do you want to come by and open a cold one?” “My car’s in the shop…” Rafe raked a hand through his hair, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have called. “Tell you what. Madeline has Maddy. Brook is rehearsing at the farmhouse. Why don’t I come by your place? Let me grab a shower.” “Thanks...” “No problem. I’ll be there in a half at the most.” They hung up and Rafe set the phone down. His eyes scanned out at the landscape, listening to sounds of a summer evening. He had gradually come out of the fog he had been in. Most of that was due to working, having to focus on business and his customers. A lot of it—was putting his efforts into the investment of the catering business. It was probably the first time in his life he’d taken on something that wasn’t his personal dream. It was different from running his restaurant, but just as much a challenge, hell more because he had to make the dream happen for someone else.

Thankfully she had logic and intellect so it was not only doable, it would be profitable—a sound investment. He had to admit, Kiera O’Fahy had much to do with that mind clearing. He did not know what he expected from what Sunny told him, but she had shown up, been professional, serious, from the beginning. Over time, he had sensed Kiera didn’t relax easily, and he had made an effort at getting her to. Hell, given his humble beginnings, he could not believe anyone would be intimidated or not casual around him. A person couldn’t spend as much time together, building a business, going over suppliers, doing projections, talking details, without getting to know someone. She worked hard, focused, give it her all. Aside from getting used to her accent, which amused him on occasion—he liked watching her with Mora—when she was more relaxed and less guarded. She was a good mother, a strong woman, who should have been more confident than she was. Kiera probably did have that in business, but he sensed the episode that made her leave Ireland left her vulnerable in her personal life. Yeah, well, he knew it had. When they had been out back of the house that day, playing with Mora, he’d seen more of that private woman in the split second she’d lost her balance and fell against him. It was enlightening. Of course, he noticed she was attractive at first glance. Kiera had classical bones, but there was a dimple, just under her eye that kept her from appearing haughty. Her hair, straight, highlighted, shone in strait strands to her nape. She wore very natural make-up. Her lips were a deep peach and sexy. When she smiled, it could be quite captivating. She had a long, leggy frame. Thinking of that tattoo made him grin wryly, because like that dimple, it saved her from having that flawless aura. It was a mix of classy woman with a little rebel/non convention/non-conformist in her…. The fact that there was another woman under her stylish casual clothing, the professional suits, was fascinating. He had all the natural responses a man did to a woman. However, he was still enough in his own head so that her reaction to his light touch, and her confessions today—surprised him. Rafe mulled over those moments and watched Coy’s truck

pull in. Coy got out dressed in jeans, athletic shoes, an open shirt and his hair wet. Rafe got up and brought him a beer. Coy settled in another chair, just to the right, gazing out to the side yard. After a long pull, a pensive look at Rafe he said, “I’m here to listen, my friend.” Rafe laughed. Coy grinned. “We got off to a rocky start, but that was because you loved the same woman I did. Thankfully, I have grown up. I feel blessed everyday that she’s in my life—that we have Levi and Maddy.” “I know.” “That baby loves you. Your…what do you call her? Muñequita.” Rafe actually felt his eyes water. “Thanks to you. I know what an honor it…” “—Not just that, Rafe,” Coy said softly. “I knew you still loved Brook when you let her go. I’m not that dense. I never could have done that. I couldn’t, dude. But that’s exactly why—I thought, when she was carrying, and I was so happy, so scared, if anything happens to me, I know I have family, but I wanted to give you— something of Brook, something to let you know that I understood. I will never take it for granted.” Rafe sighed. “It was a defining moment in my life.” He admitted, “That the moment I was holding Maddy, sharing your joy, Ashley was probably hitting that guard rail.” “Don’t…” “I’m okay now.” Rafe smiled at him. “I know not letting someone go and trying to read all kinds of things into tragedy is self destructive. My heart was true, my grief was and is. I have finally realized I let her go when the machines were turned off. I sensed she was asking me to…It’s the way she was. She was a woman who gave freely but expected, asked, that I respect that she knew her own will and mind. I did that…at the end. Maybe, more importantly—at the end.” “I’m sorry,” Coy’s tone was tight. “Me too. I have come to accept that I wasn’t… I’m not, the master of destiny.” Rafe shrugged. “It wasn’t really my choice. It was a choice made. I had a part in releasing her from the pain…in

a world she’d already left. I don’t have to understand it all…” “I’m glad. We do much by faith, Rafe. We need that in our lives. And you’ve done the right things, been busy, living, doing, that’s good.” Rafe nodded and took a drink of beer. “You need to open your arms to every part of life, maybe, all the more so now.” “I realize that. I’ve been getting back into things that challenge me. I am past the point I feel guilty about that, or about laughing, being satisfied, happy and okay. I think I am finally as released as I helped her be. It makes sense to be okay with that, once you get out of the fog. It was something important to Ashley—that, not being in bondage to something or someone…” “That’s deep, insightful, pretty fucking wonderful, dude.” Rafe grinned. “Yeah, it is. It’s something she came into my life to teach me.” Coy admitted, “Even though my mom is alive, I’ve had to do something like that, and I think Levi will too some day. I had to learn to be free, for myself. My mom and Jason’s both, are incapable of unconditional love, or love that is not toxic for anyone around them. Neither of us bonded with them. Seeing Brook with my son, with our daughter, I know the difference—profoundly now. Brook nurtures our children as much as she does me. That’s why I’m not one of those ass hole guys who doesn’t think a wife/ mother should work or keep dreaming, maturing and doing—it’s the way our kids will learn to be strong and secure. Because we’ll be that way. I wouldn’t care if Brook’s greatest dream was being a homemaker and wife and mother only. I want her happy and fulfilled in whatever she does. I hope I always take care of my woman, and my children too. But I had to drop a lot of baggage to see anything in a mature way.” They talked about The Mill, the upcoming concerts, and of course, Baby Maddy. Then, just had guy talk for awhile, sports, razzing each other a bit, since Coy had stood in a few times for the high school assistant coach and the team hadn’t done all that well. At some point a comfortable silence fell. Coy was fishing smokes out of his back pocket, when Rafe murmured, “There was a thing—at the house we bought for Kiera’s catering.”

Coy studied him and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke before asking, “Thing?” Rafe told him what happened. Studying him through the smoke, Coy murmured, “Yeah? And what did you feel?” “I wanted her.” Coy nodded and looked out at the yard. “You don’t feel guilty for that, do you?” “Not like I’m betraying something, no.” Rafe rubbed his face, then sat up and took one of Coy’s smokes and lit it. Sitting back, he confided Kiera’s past to Coy, and other things she’d revealed, plus some things he had observed. He said in a muse, “Her eyes…they’re misty gray, but they can be reserved—cool almost. You make her laugh and there is a fascinating change in them. I see intellect, determination, a bit of that girl who made her way from nothing when she’s focused on work. I’m attracted to that…” “But that’s not all?” “When she fell against me that day. I looked at her face, her eyes, and there was an ache that I understand too well there. Today…there was a flash of a woman who craves to know what passion really is. That’s a heady combination for any man. It calls to everything in you, you know? You want to hold them, heal them, make slow love to them—and fuck yourself mindless with them, at the same time.” Coy laughed low then murmured, “You’re ashamed of thinking like that?” “Some. She’s a woman, I admire her. I don't think that way...or didn't realize it. Maybe I didn't have this… emotion... in me, until now. However, she has class, style, and she is funny as hell when she gets frustrated over something. She’s a great mother.” Coy grunted. “You think just maybe— the fact she obviously has carnal thoughts, means she feels the same thing. She admires and respects you. You make her laugh. She has compassion for you, wants to hold and heal you too. And who knows how everyone puts it—but mindless fucks probably enters her mind too.” Rafe drank the beer, setting the bottle aside, dropping the half-smoked cigarette in it. Putting his feet back up, he confided,

“Okay, I knew she was attracted. It is flattering, even though my looks have always gotten attention. I was flattered because of her reserve. However, you cannot ignore the pull of that other forever. Not when you know the person on an intimate level.” “No reason to, it seems.” Rafe glanced at him. In thought for some moments, he offered eventually, “I was ready to settle down when I got with Ashley. She didn’t want to define it. Like Maddy and marriage changed you, her death changed me. Just being with her did. I still don’t want one night stands and casual sex anymore.” Coy nodded. “I get that. When there is a physical attraction, a strong one, and the woman wants you—it’s not wrong either, to give each other what you need. Even when you love someone, it’s not all lovemaking. Sometimes it is just sex because you need to spend some emotion, just want to feel the physical, need to. I know what you’re saying, she has a kid, and she’s trying to start a new life, new business. Nothing wrong though, with you testing it out, seeing if you can have a personal relationship, if it can go deeper. I’m not going to tell you that just because it’s not casual with a near stranger, don’t mean sex is going to screw everything else up. Shit. You are probably more experienced than I am, Rafe. I think you’re just being a typically more mature and responsible man. You may look like every woman’s wet dreams but…” Rafe laughed hard at that and eyed Coy’s grin. “Killed you to say that.” “Hell.” Coy shrugged. “You think I wasn’t aware of it when you and Brook were together? I sure as hell was.” Rafe admitted, “I feel like that was a different person. A million years ago.” “Yeah. The serious realities do that. They make us think of the future. I did that when Levi came along.” Nodding, Rafe watched the sun starting to lower. “Thanks… for coming over.” “Anytime.” Coy got up and stretched. “Long ass day tomorrow.” He headed down the steps, stopped and said, “Make yourself happy, my friend. Let yourself feel alive again.” Rafe stood and leaned against the brace. “I could almost like you, sometimes.” Coy snorted and then grinned. “Brook says she can see us

someday…both walking Maddy down the isle, or fighting over who’s going to whup the first boy who breaks her heart.” “I’ll break his legs.” Coy was still laughing as he went to the truck. “Love does funny things.” He held the door open a moment, eyeing Rafe. “I think you’re a good man, Rafael. If I didn’t feel you were, I wouldn’t have made you a second father to Maddy.” “Screw you. You’re okay, Cowboy.” Coy grinned. In the truck, he stuck his head out, while backing and called out, “Get laid.” Rafe laughed and shook his head. He picked up the bottles and went inside. After he cooked dinner and ate, he called Kiera. “Hello.” “Hello.” Her breath released tightly. “Something wrong?” “No. I was calling to suggest since Mora is staying at Jason’s you said?” “Yes.” “—After the shows, we could stop and shower, change, go to this place I know…It stays open until around 3. Nice Latin music, good food.” “—I’d love to.” “All right. See you.” “Yes.” After he hung up, Rafe lay on the bed, already knowing he was going to sell his house. He had finished it. He had memories here, but sensed his future had to be open to life. He was ready to start fresh. Turning the page, he mused. Maybe, making peace with the other man, the other younger one too. Maybe, he would write that book Sunny wanted him to. Maybe—when he met some of the challenges both Sunny, and he, oddly enough, believed he could, he would be able to look back with insight and wisdom… **** Briane dragged in late, after running through the entire show at The Mill. She was getting a soda when she noticed Kiera sitting on the sofa. “Something wrong?” She whispered. Kiera smiled. “Something’s right…I hope.”

Joining her, flopping down more like, Briane listened to the whole episode and about Rafe’s call. “That’s promising.” “I’m pinching myself still.” Briane grinned. “Just let it happen. If you want him as bad as you say, let it happen.” “Like you won’t—with Jason?” Briane sat up. She played with the soda lid. “I fell asleep at his house the other night. He’d set the clock to wake us in two hours, but I woke a bit before him.” She glanced at Kiera. “I went to get a drink and noticed his answering machine had tons of messages…” Kiera groaned. “Not from girls?” Briane grunted. “My finger hovered over that button for ten bloody minutes. Do not do this, I thought--imagining it was ex lovers, and there was a few I skipped through, after they gave their names. I shouldn’t have listened, but couldn’t stand it. Then when I did listen to a whole message…I just leaned on the counter, head in my hands... hearing his mother’s voice…” “His mother.” “Yes.” Briane muttered tightly, “Over and over, must be a dozen calls a week. She is so…condescending. Never says I love you, or anything positive. Every call was what he could be, should be. What a mistake his life and choices are. She rants about the Coburn’s. It made me daft just listening to a dozen of them. But I felt sick. Just sick, for him. Mitch told me she was like that all his life... I…I never imagined she did that to him. For how many years? It’s terrible.” “Did you ask him?” “God. No. I didn’t want him to know I had…invaded his privacy. I imagine he has to listen to them…likely respond to her, but it made me so—” After a silence Kiera murmured, “You didn’t make love?” “No. Like I said, we were tired. He held me. After I heard that, those—I went back by the bed and looked at him. It is hard enough for me to protect any part myself from Jason as it is. Before you lecture, let me remind you, he’s gone through a lot of different women—they aren’t all blond—that was just last years flavor. But… I looked at him. He is a strong and handsome man, so virile and

sexy. Self-reliant. He is easy going and funny around his family. I thought of her…his mother. How many years in his life he probably wanted, craved, for her to say, I love you? I’m proud of you. I’m glad you have family.” Briane shook her head. “I was afraid when I woke him; he’d pick up something…some vibe, so I know I disappointed him by asking him to take me home and by my not talking much.” “I don’t understand why you resist. It’s always been obvious he’s daft for you.” “He asked…to be my fella,” Briane supplied. “What did you say?” “Nothing.” “Jaysus, Bri.” Kiera whispered and sat up at the edge where she was, gazing at her. “What else do you want from him?” “I—don’t know. Time, because of his track record, and my issues. There are things I need to prove to myself. I want to be clear that it’s not going to be a mistake, to show more than just the attraction…” Kiera eyed her expression and then shook her head. “You’ve been mad for him forever, Bri. “Not the real him.” “Well, okay then, but you’ve been intimate with the real one. You know the real one.” Briane stood and padded over to the sliding doors. Kiera came over, slipping her arm around her. “You’ve been afraid. I know about fear and not trusting. You have to let him in and show him who you are. He has been trying to ask you for that. Now you know more about him.” Briane supplied softly, “Jason knows what I’m putting into my performance at The Mill. He challenged me to do it—when we were talking about what music means to us. I’m not sure he didn’t do it just to see what I can’t seem to show, or tell him. But that is me, Kiera. Jason is an easy man to like, to be around, to fall for. Girls do. I don’t want to be just one more…number, in his bloody phone.” Kiera insisted, “Even though you claim you’re doing this for the people who’ve come to see your shows. You have really been planning it for him all along. That part of you that says, here I am… this is where and why and everything. Oh, Briane, I know it’s scary.

I know somewhere deep inside, ever since you felt something about him, you’ve been afraid to give in. However, why do you think you tapped into that music, the things that pour out of your soul? I think you did that because you want to be happy and free to love again—to open your heart.” They stood there for some time, her thoughts on the next night, her mind’s eye on the show. She said finally, “It’s really a culmination of all my dreams and fears, my life, the feelings I couldn’t express. Yes, much of that is what I am discovering with Jason…the dormant passions in me. I’ll admit that. However, that also makes me vulnerable, and okay, so he cannot do anything about the past, but as long as it bothers me, I have no business getting my heart…er…emotions... Involved. “ “It’s time, Briane. It’s time to take risks. Let go, and give your heart a chance.” Kiera said, then kissed her cheek and quietly went to bed.

Chapter 12 The Old Mill. Season Opening. They had twice the number of the year before, but much the same 89-degree weather. Crowds, coolers, lawn chairs, kick ass, rocking bands. Every spot within a mile of the stage had people sitting on top of trucks, car hoods; the chairs near the stage were full and back from that lawn chairs and seating in every available space. Along with the scent of food and tanning oil, was the aroma of portable grills or from those who paid prime and had camped the night before. Briane arrived early to help the Coburn’s, finding Mitch’s big camper and awning, and everyone busy at something, selling Tshirts, CD’s working the food concessions. She wore denim cut offs, low rise and a tank to keep her cool, her hair in a ponytail, and lots of sunscreen and insect repellent. Jordan, who she met upon arrival, didn’t have her baby with her; one of the family babysat the little ones, who couldn’t handle the heat. Briane thought she was the coolest woman on earth. Her hair was a short blue and silver, longish bangs, and she wore jeans, boots and a light linen retro sixties shirt, lots of piercing and tattoos. Jordan teased after shaking her hand. “Max is eating up your reaction to him last night.” Briane groaned, remembering watching the guy sauntering toward her carrying his expensive camera, before he’d even gotten to introduce himself she had murmured, “Wow. I saw pictures and film but you’re…” Jordan laughed and put an arm around her. “Those violet eyes and dimples up close are potent, aren’t they?” “Sorry.” “Don’t be. I know my man is delicious. Actually, he looks like Jason.” “They favor.” Briane did not miss that cheeky grin. “Did Max tell you he’s recording some sets to put out on CD, so don’t freak if you see cameras. He’s also streaming live…” Briane drew in a steadying breath. “Yes. I signed a release, although…I don’t think my fan base is that large.” “Good way to build it.”

“I’d talked to him about some video we’re using at my set, and although we had ideas, he was like working magic in moments…I hope everything goes well.” “That’s Max. He not only visualizes in amazing detail, he can pull things together marvelously. As my agent and manager, he juggles everything. All I have to do is be on time for the show. It helps, with the baby, wanting time with my daughter, Leigh. He makes sure I have enough time off. I love the performing now, but the rest, NOT. Any interviews or whatever, that is his call. He knows everyone in the field.” She grabbed two waters, “And you’ll do great. Give your all, and they’ll respond.” Jordan led her to the others. While she helped, Brook and Renee do some selling, she thought about Jason, his band, Mitch and the rest had done the opening set, and would close out, she was told. Somewhere in the next hour, Briane answered a yell from some of the younger Coburn’s and went to the side section, to autograph some of the freshly done shots Max had brought of her. That was when she saw Jason again, having caught part of their set, she recognized his performance face and it made her nervous. Though he looked at her while on stage, he never lost it. Had not given her a private signal at all. Now he had on denim shorts as ratty as the ones she had seen on Coy and some of the others, with running shoes. He was turning browner under the hot sun. His aqua eyes touched hers, his look coolly accessing, before he stopped and looked down at the pictures, picking one up and studying it a long time. Max—incredible man and artist, had waited for the fog to rise in the hills and had her wear one of the hooded capes she had brought for rehearsal, a deep green one. Somehow, with his way of talking, drawing her out, Max had snapped pictures while she walked the trail up from The Mill. Not only handsome, Max was charming and very good at what he did. She had no clue what the photos would look like today, but when she saw them her head could only shake in amazement. They looked otherworldly, her eyes were deep as the color of the cloak, there was dew on her face…she seemed to be walking out of the mountains on a mist. The simple “Briane” burned into the wood of a guitar at the bottom

was perfect. Jason looked up. Briane walked over to him. Searching his guarded expression, she murmured, “You’re upset with me. I know…I was a little distant and I’ve not….” He scanned her face, no smile. Briane knew her behavior when he had taken her home Thursday had done this. Signing she admitted she’d been deep in her thoughts, and frankly, wrestling between taking him in her arms and running the opposite direction. She reached up, touching that dent in his chin, touching him in public for the first time. He captured her hand and brought it down, for a moment but didn’t release it. “Who is playing games, Briane?” “I ...I just...” He lifted the picture with his other hand. “This is you, hide and seek. Touch me and I vanish. Get too close; ask for something and I shut down—” That hurt. “Is that really fair?” “You tell me,” his voice was deep. His gaze pierced her with emotion that had impact. “There was a moment I could have walked away from you—and you know it.” She felt her eyes sting. Oh shit, this really hurt. The crowd and noise seemed in a whole nother world than where they stood. Yes. She knew it. A moment at the house, in that hallway, on that deck, yes. He could have. However, they kissed, revealed—opened Pandora’s Box of emotion… Jason released her hand slowly. A muscle in his cheek flexed as if he set his teeth. “Nothing made a difference to you—not the touching, nothing. If you did not want me— and you know what I mean, you should have been honest. That is all I asked. You didn’t even fucking call me. You don’t give me the benefit of getting to explain or talk, because you’re so busy making assumptions, right.” He turned and took off walking, striding through the crowds. Briane went after him, calling his name a dozen times. “Jason! Wait, listen…” She had to nearly run to keep him in sight. Jason stopped finally, hands loose on his hips, head back. He cursed a blue streak. She heard him say, (….he was done.) Briane realized they were by the camper and Coburn’s had all gathered to eat. Brook, Coy, Mitch, Max, Jude, Ruby, dozens of

them—were suddenly frozen in motion, gazing at them. Briane did not care. She said loud, because a band played on stage—and because Jason wouldn’t look at her. “Listen to me, just one more time.” He did not respond. Briane said louder, “Jason…Jason Coburn—are you hearing me?” His head bowed, he was sucking in a deep breath. Her eyes glued to his brown back and spine. Briane was trembling. She should have called him that night after he took her home, if only to joke, talk about what was bothering her, something —after he’d said he’d wanted to be her “Fella” as light as he put it. She was not a stupid woman. She should have called him at least once, when he’d invited her to on Sunday, before Sunday. Hell, she should have…because she slept in his bed, and she’d invited the intimacy from the moment she’d touched him in the car. Briane knew he had wanted conformation they had something, because she’d been gun shy. Jason had gotten her to admit, no demonstrate, she wanted him. She had kept him unsure, out of her own fears, and her own too intense emotions. Briane heard him say, “I’m listening.” She closed her eyes a moment, releasing a sigh. “I came here, to America—to find something. Something I’d lost. Also, something I dreamed of, hoped for, in the secret of my soul. I came to see if I could make peace with who I was in the past, what was, and not be afraid.” Tears slid out the corners of her eyes and she could feel every one of the Coburn’s gazing at her. “I came—to find out if I could sing, live, find my soul, without falling apart. I came with no idea how to start that, unlock it. Then someone…told me… take small breaths, to dream, and reach. I did. The more I did, the less I feared, the bigger I dreamed…” Briane dashed away the tears. “And I picked a night to do it…not in secret…not in private…but before every listening ear. Not just past, but what I want to believe tomorrow, and the next day. Music speaks to me now. It shows what I struggle to show; my joy, my fear, and my pain—even my healing and my hopes. I am sorry, Jason. I tried to tell you before. The wanting between us made everything so confusing. But it wasn’t a game.” “Briane.” He still didn’t turn. The way he said her name was so emotional she felt tears sting again. “I tell you what. When you

decide we’re worth…I’m worth, talking to, confiding in, trusting, even fighting with, if I have to keep defending my track record… you let me know.” Briane looked around then; glad the men were mostly watching Jason, though some of he women were too. She saw Brook was biting her lip, Madeline looked concerned, Ruby interested, and Max and Jordan were obviously trying to mentally fill in the blanks. It was not the day she had planned, the way she had planned it, and Briane was old enough to realize that Jason came into her life during a complicated time—the real Jason, that is. She had not thought the reality through. Nor had she imagined the power of the attraction and the passion they would have between them. Now knowing about his relationship with his mother, the real one, she knew he had his own protections in place too. Glancing back at Jason, she took a few steps so that she could have touched him, had she tried. But she said, “I asked ya the why and you wouldn’t tell me. But I still couldn’t stop the wanting.” Openly crying now, she managed, “I’m showing you my why…and you cannot know me, Jason…and you know what I mean, without caring for the answer to that.” **** When she turned and left, he knew it without gazing—Jason walked to the end of the camper and sat on his haunches. He pressed the heels of his hands to his bowed forehead, feeling like he didn’t fucking know himself anymore. He’d been hurt the other night. Shut out. Just confused…and hurt. Max came to him and sat down on the grass. “You’re not going after her?” Jason shook his head. Max didn’t say anything for a moment, then, “You’ve had the pretty girls, the good time, one-time, stuff. Did you really think the one who would matter wouldn’t tear you up inside?” “Not now, Max.” However, his brother said softly, “You know how hard it was for Jordan to tell me about her past and the trauma. You know how sick with worry I was she’d be angry with me for stepping into her life and working with Sunny behind her back. How I ached for her when her daughter did come and she wanted to be and do

everything perfect…” Jason squeezed his eyes shut. “I know that. This is…” “—Briane’s party girl days are far behind her, and from what Brook said, it wasn’t a party she enjoyed. She’s a complicated woman, with complicated emotions. She never had a father around, or protector, a nurturer, but she is a mother too. And I take it you were the one who challenged her to do more than just sing the music she loves…it sounds like you?” Jason finally rasped, “How could I know her, feel her, and not know her…” He drew in a breath. “Shit. I should have kept it all physical. Not—that I know where I stand there either…” Max snorted. “Jason. If you cannot understand, where she has been and where she is going, if you do not ache to know what she fears and what she dreams—yeah, the physical is all you need to stick with. Because a relationship is, you helping her understand you. And she, doing the same. You, knowing what is hers that you won’t be able to fix, but can hold her when it haunts her and letting her know the same about you. I understand how fast it happened. Hell, I knew within the hour, first time I was with Jordan, I couldn’t stop the feeling. I was not looking for good times and nothing but sex—although sex with her was more than that. I wanted a deep and feeling woman. I needed her, just as much.” Jason sat down on the grass and lowered his hands. He took the cold water that Max handed him and drank. “I know it’s not my imagination. She wants me. Sometimes… she looks at me and I know she needs me. I know what happens to both of us when we touch. And Yeah, my dating record—is not something a woman you’re trying to have a relationship with just blows off, but then…I can’t very well ease any of those preconceived notions if she refuses to define the relationship…” Jason sighed. “I rushed. But deep down there’s this really intense connection. I knew it. She can’t hide all her responses.” Max grunted. “When it’s intense like that, it knocks you on your ass. That goes for the both of you. There are things about her, things about you, but when you are together desire over rides it... It’s only when you’re not, that the reality of two distinct, unique, individuals, with pasts and lives—problems, comes in. I do understand that, Bro.”

Jason finally stood. “I get why there’s only one woman for Coburn men. Shit. I understand what Madeline went through, and Dad. Why it was easy to make mistakes—. And why they were both so torn up, and things weren’t fixed overnight.” Max told him, “Go on, and find her before her set. Aside from the other, you are one of the most passionate about dreams, guys I know, Jason. You cannot help but be encouraging. You care about what matters to her, and you will never forgive yourself, if you are not “with” her, for this performance. Everything else is going to take working out, time, talking—and probably more episodes like today. But you challenged her to do this—you care for her.” Jason murmured, “I do. I just…was hurt. Confused is my constant state of mine when it comes to Briane. Hell, I feel like I’m blind suddenly, as if I have no sense of direction. I have never not been completely confident and sure. Then again, I’ve never cared in exactly this way.” He left Max and strode around the camper, not glancing at the family who sat around eating and talking, but striding up through the crowds, looking for Briane. He found her sitting sideways in the bed and near the tailgate of GW’s truck. GW had a quilt spread out and she had apparently eaten with him. She was sipping a frosty soda, appeared as she was merely listening to the music. Seating himself by her feet, his profile to her, Jason thought awhile but it didn’t help. Finally, he turned his blue eyes on her face. “You scare me. But—it’s not all you. It’s me. I keep waiting for you to reveal something before I expose my own feelings. Which um…Kind of explains why I’ve never had a long term relationship, doesn’t it?” When her eyes met his, he felt that dip in his stomach. In the sunlight, they were the deepest green. She was listening. He murmured, “The wanting is easy. No. I take that back. With you, it’s almost like pain and pleasure both. Getting high and feeling hell at the same time.” “Thanks.” He laughed short, huskily. “You going to tell me it’s not intense?” “No. It is.” She sighed and nodded. He considered her expression before going back to her eyes

again. “It’s the rest of it I suck at. I have never been a person who gets all in his head and analyzes shit—because it wasn’t really a part of those past, non-relationships. The reason I get what you said back there, is because I’ve been there… since you got off the plane.” She sat up and idly peeled the label on the soda bottle. “I’ve never met anyone like you.” “Same here.” Briane bit her lip and glanced up at him. “We both come with those yellow caution and warning signs plastered all over us.” He grunted but reached out and touched her cheek. “Even if we didn’t have—the other—I’d want tonight for you, Briane. I want you to do this. From the moment I heard you sing, I sensed this in you. If nothing else, you know that, don’t you?” “Yes. I do.” She touched his hand there. When he let it drop to his thigh, she said softly, “Even though I said before the whole world, I would never have come to this—if I didn’t privately, secretly, believe there was someone who would feel it and understand. Brook will. But not—like I know, you will. What you said to me, about how music feels, how to turn and embrace it, that was profound for me. I’ve never had anyone understand what I felt—or what I was trying to do—though I’d never been able to articulate it, until we had that conversation either.” Jason felt his heart thud behind his ribs. He so got this woman on so many levels—which was why his emotions were all over the damn place. Hell. He turned a bit and leaned down, catching her mouth in a soft, brief kiss. Rising, their eyes holding, he told her quietly, “I knew you were hearing me that day in the parking lot, because you wanted and needed to. You know I am listening today, for the same reason…” She nodded. He could hear Alvin saying through the mic Brook and Renee’s band Audacious would play after a break. “Brook told me what you and she had worked out. Since we all have mutual feelings and we’ve all been trying a find a way to tell Dad, and Madeline—we’re here for them, and respect them so much, love them so much—how we get our strength and faith from them… we’ve asked her to let us be up there when y’all perform it. So—if you are up to it after your performance and all…we’d like for it to

be during the closing set. Neither will expect it and given how hard they’ve worked for the opening…” “I think that’s perfect timing.” Briane smiled. Jason savored that smile. “Even though everyone’s going to be here rooting for you, and even though I’ve tried bribes and everything else, gotten sick of those shit-eating grins your “boys” have worn the past week…” He paused to laugh with her. “I am going to be a nice guy and warn you that the family grapevine is very real. I know Brook’s told you how they plot and plan. Part of it’s because you’re Brook’s friend, partly because you’re a good cook and they’re all raving about your potluck dishes. Some is because of what you‘ll be part of tonight with your show, and with Brook’s plan…but I hear they’re making you a cornbread sister…” Briane was laughing hard. He said dryly over it, “And even though you wouldn’t let me in on your secrets, I’m going to be a nice guy and tell you how to pass all the tests…” She gathered herself enough to say, “I’ve witnessed it on Brook’s home film.” “Yeah well, if you can swim, that’s the easy part. If you can look at GW or Alvin’s bare ass and still crack a joke, you will be half way there. In fact, getting through the serenades and feature acts...” He coughed. “Is the easiest parts. If they drag you into a sport—show no mercy, even if it is croquet. Blood and guts must be spilled.” “All right, thanks.” She was still chuckling. He stood. “I’m going to clean up. I don’t want to miss Brook’s band. Save me a seat?” “Yeah.” Jason headed off. Briane called out, “Jason?” He turned and regarded her. “Thanks for coming back.” “Trust the instincts that led you here. Briane.” She nodded. His regard was a little serious, even though he smiled. “I’ll see you later….” **** He had come back—for her, despite their mucked up whatever. He was that good of a person. He wanted her to live the

dream, face her past. She watched his retreating figure. Tonight had to accomplish all that she dreamed and hoped it would. Because she had to find some door, an open gateway to let him in. More than that, she had to let him be with her, who he needed to be—even the parts he didn’t see, that she did, in him. They had to let down some strong defenses. Exposed… yeah, that is where they were, and Jason was not dealing with it well either. **** “Be good and mind your manners.” Kiera reminded Mora as she and Rafe helped the girl into one of the trucks. “I will, Ma. You have fun with Rafe and tell Aunty I love her.” Jett already had Mora’s hand. “I’ll help take care of her,” she said in that too grown up way. “Thank you, Jett.” Kiera winked at the girl. Stepping back, she felt Rafe’s hand on her waist. The truck pulled out from The Mill’s main grounds. Kiera could hear the noise around, the music, but long after she could not see Mora, she was thinking of Rafe’s reaction when she had picked him up earlier. His car was out of the shop, but he claimed he wanted to ride in the convertible instead. After her night of misery, she had done what she always did, gotten herself up, got on with it. With a little extra umph though. In fact she’d gone to the hair dresser and completely changed her hair style—now a deep cinnamon with minute silver in the bangs, it feathered sexily on her head, around her face and inches on the nape, very chic but light—less serious too. She knew from her sister’s reaction it made her gray eyes look bigger, her lips more sensual, and her neck longer. She was pleased with both it and the impulsive purchase of a thin summer dress she wore today in lime green and tropical orange. When she’d exited the car, and met Rafe on his steps—he in denims, a linen shirt and weaved leather shoes, she had slid up her sunglasses, he hadn’t put his on yet and had been carrying them—and stopped dead and just stared at her. If her emotions were not so torn up for him already, she may have read that up and down look and blink as a, wow. Still she was flattered. He had touched her nape in the car, winked, and told Mora, “Your Ma looks gorgeous today.”

Mora had said, “I think so, too.” Now, turning back toward the crowd, going to find the others so they could catch Brook’s band, Kiera slanted a glance at Rafe, his sunglasses still in that inky hair. A wave of inky stuff slid over his brow from the heat. He had been gazing at her too, and those darkest brown eyes went over her face again. She’d worn subtle make-up but would do herself up better tonight—after the shows. Just the thought of going out with him… And man, did she ever go up a notch hotter in the dress she had bought for that— “I really like that style on you.” “Thank you.” She moistened her mouth. Rafe grinned. “You were beautiful before, but that combines the young, hip, woman you are too.” The hairdresser had told her so. He’d kept saying how lush and full her lips looked, how amazing her eyes. He had made her blush saying she looked like a Victoria Secret model. Yeah, okay, it was an exaggeration, but she needed that confidence booster. “I’m glad you think so.” It was a daring thing to say, but honestly, Rafe was such an incredibly sexy guy himself…and Kiera wanted him to find her at least attractive. She glanced at him, over his face, to his eyes, as if she could not help doing so. He raked his lip and said under the den, “I’ve had women look at me all my life. But none, like you do. “ She was jostled into him from a passing couple. Her hand went into his as he led her around the stream of people so they could walk somewhat unhindered toward the front seats. Close, touching his hand, breathing his warmed cologne, Kiera was well aware he could probably detect her heightened senses. They paused, thankfully, under the edge of an awning in the shade; a huge fan blew wonderfully cool air, as they were just feet from where the Coburn’s would sit in front stage seats. People were coming and going. There was noise; her position was turned so that her breast was against his arm. She answered one of the teens who had called to her, asking something about one of the kids and Rafe was talking to Coy who was packing up a box of CD’s. Kiera could feel his fingers still

playing with hers, sliding loose between them. When she finished, and turned her head back, chin upwards, scents mingling—with his face, body, eyes, so close, what the hell….she murmured, “Do I look at you—like I want you?” “Yes—and more.” She swallowed. Rafe looked around and then back at her before they took their seats, his hand loosening but his fingers lightly feeling her wrist. Tilting his head down as she turned to walk before him, he said something in Spanish in her ear. Feeling him close to her back, she supplied, “I speak Spanish.” “I know.” She supposed he did because she had interacted with potential suppliers and clients that spoke that native language. He wanted her too. Oh, Jaysus—that got her hot and flushed all over. What he had actually said was, he had never been immune to attraction, just hadn’t opened himself up to it, until she revealed her own. Kiera leaned, so he could hear, “If you’re not ready. I’m good with that. I’m glad you asked me out afterwards.” “It was that, at first.” He took in her expression with those thick lashed dark eyes. “But I am a man who likes a woman to say what she thinks and feels. I do the same, because I respect you, your sense of what you can and can’t give in a relationship…” Kiera grimaced. “I’m woefully deficient in that department. I haven’t had any, with mature men...” He smiled. “I’ll respect your boundaries, but you’ve to put them out there. In a relationship—I’ve only had a couple serious ones, I’m a lover by nature, if you invite that kind of connection…” As if—any woman could watch, listen, look at him, and not sense that. Flushing, she took his statement about saying what she thought and felt to heart though, and confessed, “I knew that. I felt it. I’ve been a little… crazy some nights…” Rafe chuckled, very sexy and lightly brushed his hand down her back. “That’s the way a man and woman ought to be with each other. That’s the way I am. I’m open to seeing where this goes, Kiera.”

She nodded, moistened her lips, and rubbed her thumb across his wrist. Her mind was moaning a relieved yes, oh Jaysus, yes. It was awhile before they were seated, spending time hugging, greeting the Coburn’s, finally she sat by Jason with Rafe on her other side, Max and Jordan beside Briane on Jason’s other side. Jason was fresh showered and smelling nice. He glanced over and took in her new haircut. “You look great.” She laughed. “Thank you. So do you” “You went from classy and elegant, to chic, but it’s…playfulsexy too.” “Yeah? All that.” Briane leaned up and met her gaze, grinning. “Told you.” Kiera self-consciously touched the feathered hair at her nape. Jason leaned back and reached an arm around her to tap Rafe. Rafe met his gaze with a raised brow. “Kiera looks sexy as hell, don’t you think?” Shooting him a dry grin, Rafe said smoothly, “Absolutely. Belleza.” “All right. I’m sufficiently red in the face.” Kiera smacked Jason’s arm and leaned up so he’d pull it back. He chuckled. Dressed in black slacks, a blue shirt, he teased, “You smell nice too.” She chuckled and looked at Briane who leaned up and listened. Rolling her eyes, saying, “So do you, Jason.” Briane saw Jason lean down to hear something Briane said about teasing her sister, before he laughed deeply and murmured, “She better get used to it, the Coburn’s are claiming her too.” Thankfully, Audacious was introduced and they were on their feet, whistling and clapping, ready to have a great time. Kiera used to love those rare time she got to watch Brook and Briane perform. She was anxious and happy for Briane tonight. She loved the music Brook and Renee’s band covered too. When Kiera sat down at the opening of “Perfect” by Pink, sang by Renee, she was guilty of glancing at Rafe to see if he watched Brook. Brook looked great. She was in black shorts, a white silk

tank, with her hair in an edgy bob; she didn’t look like she’d recently had a child, except that there was a sexy confidence and maturity there. Rafe was watching the whole performance, and he was enjoying the music like everyone else. At one point, later, during a love song that Brook and Renee sang together, Brook, singing lead caught her eye and winked. Kiera blushed. When that song was over, Brook came to stand pretty much in front of her and Rafe, though it could be concluded she sang to include Jason and Briane, too. She sang ( Because you Love me), by Jo Dee Messena…. When it was over, Kiera glanced at Rafe to find him wearing a soft smile; he returned her look and nodded, murmuring under the applause, “I still believe in that.” She agreed, abashed. “Take your time, Rafe. His hand took hers and though they were watching the stage, he said quietly, “Maybe it is my time, Kiera. Finally.” They had a great time, just conscious enough of each other to be stirred by a glance, exchanged smile or when he’d turn to speak to someone and his hand would land on her shoulder, or her arm. Kiera sent up a silent prayer before Briane’s performance that she wouldn’t mess up this chance with Rafe. She was aware of the things he needed to work through. She was not surprised he wanted her to be open, up front, and talk about what she felt. However, that a guy even cared that much, blew her mind. She was ready for a mature relationship… **** Briane had gone back stage an hour ago…. The stage was pitch dark and though it took awhile for the far-flung crowd to hush, Jason felt the adrenaline rush. He felt chills spread over his flesh while mist and fog began to swirl. He was half-aware of Max—almost a shadow, on a lift, with a huge camera and equipment, among other things going on. With each second, his breathing was a little more shallow, his heart beating more rapid. He forced himself to calm down, although he could feel Kiera beside him saying a little prayer between her, kick ass Briane, was murmured.

He could only nod when Madeline who took Briane’s empty seat leaned to rub his arm and mutter, “I heard what she said to you today… please take this in.” Jason nodded, A streak of lightening flashed across the stage, cutting through the fog. He could hear the murmur in the crowd. The curtains lifted. Mist floated just hazy enough to show four males in black cloaks, on the left and right…their hoods and heads downwards, while the strains of, The Answer by Sarah McLachlan, filled the night air… A gust of wind blew. The hair stood up on his nape. He couldn’t see her yet, but heard her sing… I will be the answer…At the end of the line….I will be there for you…While you take the time In the burning of uncertainty…I will be your solid ground I will hold the balance…If you can't look down He saw Briane, then…green silk cloak fluttering, small sparkles on the surface, and there was a haunting aura to her posture seated in the center at a long white grand piano that changed hues with lighting, her head bowed too. Her profile to the audience, further back than the four cloaked males, two more back in the thicker mist playing instruments, wearing cloaks too. The whole stage, thanks to a backdrop of forests looked 3D, with sounds, and scents wafting from somewhere, a visual so real it was as if watching a movie…it was an experience. If it takes my whole life, I won't break, I won't bend It will all be worth it, Worth it in the end Her voice, hushed yet clearly carrying that Irish accent talked intimately over the speakers, “Most people would write their life beginning to end. However, many of us have more endings and beginnings than one. Sometimes; those are so intertwined, we cannot know which is which, until we turn the page… Briane’s fingers touched the keys. “It takes both pain and love to make life real, for if we do not experience the sorrows, we canna feel the depth of joy. Between those two, is a long journey. We find our friends, our faith, and our strength, at each end…. Come with me, and hopefully, I will come with you, my song, my music, hearts and souls identify with each other. It will end in hope, I promise you…”

The backdrop began a series of passing images, pictures of herself growing up in Ireland, some of them sad and dreary, some with her dancing in circles, jumping rope… or playing guitar…Her siblings in a few of them, their expressions cocky but having that too old too young look in their eyes… Cast me gently…Into morning…For the night has been unkind Take me to a…Place so holy…That I can wash this from my mind The memory…. of choosing not to fight. Then, there it was, herself and Adam…more photos of him than Jason had seen. He felt her pain, his parent’s pain. He saw so much more now in the pictures of them together. A short film of them on a scooter, tooling around a damp city street. They looked happy. Then that baby…her son, dozens of images of him growing up… all the while the haunting sound of her voice singing, as if images rolled through her soul too. If it takes my whole life….I won't break, I won't bend It will all be worth it…Worth it in the end. 'Cause I can only tell you what I know…That I need you in my life. When the stars have all burned out….You'll still be burning so bright…Cast me gently….Into morning….For the night has been unkind. At the end of the song, there was an image of herself in black suite and veil standing in a cemetery, before Liam’s face came— that beautiful world-embracing grin of his, that made Jason smile past the tears in his eyes…The last note played with the words, (in loving memory of Adam Richards, son, Husband, Father, rest in peace,) in the backdrop… Jason could tell both Kiera and Madeline were crying, probably Brook and the others, but he saw one of the cloaked men go to her as she stood and he assumed the curtains were supposed to close, yet the male whispered. He could see Max was live streaming onto the backdrop from Great Britain. That face, only a bit changed, appeared. Liam looked into the camera saying, “Thank you America, for welcoming me mum, and hearing her music. I love you, mum.” He could tell Briane was trembling, and heard her clearly say, “I love you, my boyo.” That grin split his face and he said, “This isn’t the end. The

par-ty is only getting started.” The audience laughed. An older woman’s face appeared. She whispered in his ear and pat his shoulder. He nodded and leaned in toward the camera, “Me mum always says, music is food to the soul, joy to the heart. May you have plenty of both.” Smiling again, fist raised he uttered loudly, “Erin go Bragh.” Jason heard Briane’s tearful laugh, and saw her fist go up. Kiera stood and yelled in a voice he wouldn’t have credited her with—one the Coburn’s would have taken pride in, “Erin go Bragh Ireland Forever!” The Coburn’s stood, Jason included—everyone echoing and whistling, “Ireland forever.” Seated once more, Jason could see Briane hurrying back stage, mopping her eyes. Being the pro she was however, the stage was soon lit and electrically alive with the sounds of Haron Beltane Fire dance… Red and green mists wafted. She appeared, whirled gracefully, and let the cape fall. A gasp went up. He smiled and did his mental whistle, seeing her red halter gown, split up the front showing shimmering black shorts beneath. Her hair was slicked back; her eyes had been artfully made up, with white and red glitter. Her mouth glistened. From dark mourning, to a phoenix rising, the area rumbled and vibrated with the amazing rhythm. He could hear screams and yells, feel the vibrations of drums and the swell of music, but he could hardly take his eyes off Briane. She walked to each man, jerked off his cloak, each wearing sleek black slacks and black tanks, the good-looking men had on eye masks… They played instruments, going around her too in a dramatic chase, the taps on their shoes making a dragging and tap cadence, but Briane was playing the flame, alive, dangerous, dancing away. It was freaking fantastic. At the end of the song, the roars and yells were deafening. Jason shook his head, wiping his face with his hand, feeling that edge of his seat, heart-pounding, kind of sensation. He clapped until his hands hurt and heard Kiera say over the noise to Rafe, “I never knew…I’ve seen her perform, but that was—that was bloody amazing!”

It was. Jason felt Kiera touch his arm, and he glanced at her. She met his eyes, seeming to probe it and leaned in to say, “Thank you.” He shook his head and waved toward the stage, “I wasn’t—” “—more than you know.” She shook hers, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. “Sometimes it only takes one person believing in us, understanding us, to grow our wings…or mend broken ones.” He stared at her profile until she turned her gray eyes on him again, her expression holding some secret smile. Jason turned back to the stage, blowing out a breath, but too caught up in the moments to think straight. “Hell yes.” He heard Brook scream when the curtains opened again. “Attitude, ba-by!” Briane stood there in the black shorts and a white silk haltertop, a wispy white sheer regency blouse tied at the waist. She wore stacked boots that made her legs look longer—and damn, sexy as hell. Her hair was down, mussed, make-up just enough to enhance her unique features and green eyes. Her mouth glistened peach. Her bright white smile was for the whole audience. He could feel her absorbing their applause and yells. Jason could also sense she was intoxicated, somewhat inward and focused on telling her story, reaching people—and telling theirs too. It was not just words; it was passion, energy, atmosphere… He was and wasn’t amazed at her vision, having sensed all of it in her, heard it in her voice—seen it in her eyes. No matter what wrong turns they took privately, he would never underestimate the depth and scope of her talent—the endless well of soul, from her roots that she drew all of this from— She stood at the edge of stage, just in front of him. Her back ups and musicians were still in black, with masks gone, and their white silk shirts looking boss with puffed sleeves, Jason gave them cred too. No wonder they kept all of this secret. They had to have worked their asses off to pull this together. Briane said when only whistles and calls sounded, “I’ve seen a lot of cities, towns, and highway. Met many people, learned some lessons. How about you?”

The crowd answered. Briane covered a medley of Irish ballads that showed an amazing range, from tender to soaring, and then rolled effortlessly into a crowd-pleasing original. The huge backdrop changed to a series of cities and towns, blacktop roads, places, faces, stages. Some of the shots had Brook and the band in them. After that, she raised her hand and let it drop, her smile and wink going to Brook, and she said, “Take heart, take courage, its only through looking back, we see our way more clearly forward. Only by mistakes, do we gain experience, experience brings wisdom.” She sang a rendition of (Stand in the Rain) by Superchick. (……when she’s all alone, feels like it’s all coming down… Stand in the Rain, stand your ground…..stand up when it’s all crashing down….Stand in your pain….you won’t drown… One day what’s lost will be found, when you stand in the rain… When that ended that, she bowed, out of breath and waving. Walking to a stand somewhere at the back, Briane drank water, pat her face and said something to Josh and another of the guys. They were grinning and nodding. She turned around, blowing to cool her face and then waving to the side in thanks as someone turned one of the bigger fans her way. She murmured, “And so here I am. Making a new life, in a new country, thankfully, getting to meet all of you.” Claps and cheers, whistles cut through the air. Briane grinned, “Still learning, still making mistakes, but also discovering wonderful things about life, about people…” Her eyes scanned to his. “Sometimes we lock things away to cherish it, or to keep it safe and protected. Sometimes, we let things go—out of that same love too. We free ourselves, our feelings, and take risks again. It’s scary, but it’s living.” Her gaze moved away a moment and scanned some of the people. “Passion is living. Let’s celebrate that.” Briane’s eyes touched his again while yells echoed. She did (You gotta be) by Des’ree next and moved impressively with beat, most of the crowd, including Madeline and Kiera, sang with her… Briane’s show was obviously finished with that song, but the yells for encores went on and on. He saw her go to the edge and back, talking to the lead in the group that would follow, a respectful

gesture, before she nodded and went back to the boys to speak with them. She took a band from her wrist and drew her hair behind her ears, wisps escaping her hasty tie, but it looked romantic and sexy to Jason. Briane took the mic, coming to sit on the very edge of the stage, the rest dark and spotlight softly on her. Legs dangling not far from Jason. The other Coburn’s in the front row, but she looked at him. Jason rolled his lips, fingers and palms on his thighs, not unaffected by her gaze, by everything tonight—because he understood it all, and wanted some of that personal connection, that woman he held in his arms, kissed, touched, felt deep as a man could… He felt sensitized—all those chaotic things a man would when he felt a woman in his soul, the mystery of her. Nevertheless, he needed to have one glimpse into her feelings toward him. She said, “I wish I had written this song. It speaks more eloquently than I ever could…I am going to slow the original down. Hear me, by Kelly Clarkson…. Hear me…You gotta be out there…You gotta be somewhere wherever you are…I'm waiting…'Cause there are these nights when I sing myself to sle—ep. And I'm hopin' my dreams Bring you close to me. Are you listening...I'm ready now….Turn my world upside down…Find me…….I'm lost inside the crowd…It's getting loud. I need you to see. I'm screaming for you to please…...Hear me. Can you—hear me? The spotlight went out. Jason got up from his chair and went to the edge of the stage, and lifted her down. He enfolded her in a long embrace that spoke more eloquently than words, feeling her hold onto him too. When she leaned back, he smiled and sighed, shaking his head to express what words would not be sufficient for. Afterwards they walked around to the side and up the stage stairs. He congratulated her band, and helped them move things for the next group. They would be the last, before the Coburn’s closed the shows for the night. Briane was freshening up, so he spent time backstage with the men who were beyond pleased at the performance. He even teased James, and said, “Yeah, okay

freaking awesome.” The man laughed, wiping his face with a cool, damp towel. “You taking ass-hole lessons from GW?” “No. I mean it.” Jason grinned. “It was worth twice the price and bigger than I thought this venue could handle. You guys were great.” “She was,” Josh said of Briane. “Amazing voice…just kicked ass out there.” “Thanks.” He turned to see Briane, still wearing the last outfit but looking like she had washed and then refreshed her make-up, and she had tied her hair back more securely. She offered sincerely, “No way could I have done it without all of you.” “We make a good group.” She winked at one of the younger guys. “Yes. You’re all in. I hope we’ll make enough local though. I’m done with the traveling.” “Ta’Hell with the money…” One of them said. Max was walking through, rolling up cable, and cut in with a laugh, “Spoken like a kid with no mortgage or car payment.” The other guys chuckled. One said, “Some guy did ask if we’d be doing the college circuit and fairs.” He handed her a card. She tucked it in her pocket. “That might be cool. I’m all for grand shows, loved this, dreamed it, but I’m wise enough to know that the intimate gigs we do, will be building our fan base.” The guys agreed. Briane stopped Max long enough to hug him—and Jason noticed, to have a private conversation—probably thanking him for the live feed of Liam, and for work Jason recognized was Max’s on her sets and the video. He wondered what Max was saying to her, but saw his half brother give her a strong hug and say something that made her laugh so hard she spewed some of the water she was sipping. After a bit, they all dispersed. Jason spied Briane’s carryall and asked if she wanted it put in her trunk. “My guitar too. I’m using Brooks for the last bit. I’ll walk with you, I need to pee somewhere tha' ground ain’t vibrating under me.” He laughed. They walked out carrying her things, making their way through the crowds to her car. Afterwards, they met up

with a few Coburn’s’ at Mitch’s camper, where she went in and peed, and got fresh coffee, and generally unwound amid praise and easy smiles. Leaning his shoulder against the camper, Jason was listening to her, idly watching the insect lights that illuminated the canopy area. He was replaying the show, absorbing things he couldn’t while his focus had been on her performance. It was awhile before he realized she was no longer talking. His eyes moved to where she sat on the picnic table, a soft grin coming when he observed her boots were unzipped, he’d bet they were hot. It was a sultry night. Everyone had left the area. She stared back at him searchingly. “You’re quiet. Still upset with me?” “No. And, I won’t be later…” He pushed away and came to her, waiting for her to put her boots on. When she stood, Jason held her a moment, hearing her sigh, feeling her forehead rest on his breastbone. He stroked her back. If he kissed her now, he wouldn’t stop. He felt the need in her body too. She had poured out a lot of emotions, but doing that drew others to the surface… Jason held her hand, walking back to join the family. He talked to Coy and Max and she talked to Jordan and to Kiera. She had amazed everyone—and had touched them too, so he gave her those moments and words to savor by herself, and joined the men who would perform. She went to find Brook... **** After a hug from Brook, Briane murmured, “Does your ma suspect anything?” “No.” Brook grinned. They walked to the back stage entry and the women’s dressing room. “She loves watching Mitch perform, so she’ll be focused on that. He knows though. Jason and Coy told him because of changing the arrangements. We’ll stay up on stage, Max and Jordan, anyone who wants, will join for the closing song. Mitch and Jude, Deege, a few others will be here early in the morning to intro the gospel and blues groups.” Combing her hair, repairing her lip-gloss, Briane then sat down, watching Brook repair her make-up. “You heard us today…

Jason and me?” “Yeah.” Brook turned and sat on the black padded bench. “Pretty much everyone did.” Her smile was understanding. “I’ve been in that place. So has Coy.” Briane looked down at her hands a moment. “I’m not sure we know where we’re at yet…” “That’s the way it goes, until you can talk, even then, it’s the listening, understanding. That never can stop, Briane. Not if you care or want something more.” “It’s not just me.” Briane glanced at her. “I know. I know Jason. He hasn’t been himself since meeting you. Nevertheless, what makes Jason so special isn’t simply his charm and humor, his obvious qualities. Also, how he dealt with things…growing up. Jason tries to understand people. Yet I don’t know if he believes anyone would understand him. There’s parts he never talks about, and that might be because he thinks it makes him seem weak, I dunno. He talks to Max more than anyone.” “There’s no point in my acting like I didn’t want to meet him, before now, at least with you.” Briane murmured, “I knew a lot from what you said about him, how much you talked about him. But then meeting someone and realizing you’re not just attracted, you’re affected by them…it’s…” “Hey.” Brook came over and sat beside her. “I love him. I want him happy. I love you, same thing. I am not going to paint some perfect picture of what it is like when things get serious, when you are working through the hard parts of a relationship. Trust, vulnerability, all that. I thought it sucked.” Briane laughed. “It does.” Brook glanced at a clock on the far wall. “I love Jason, but as a woman dating him, his (gurl fans) and good looks aside, I’d probably be the same way you are. Cautious. Though, like I say, he is feeling something. Everyone has noticed it.” She grunted. “But you two have chemistry everyone can feel. Though sex can get in the way, it can also reveal a lot about each other.” They left and stood in the hallway, toward the stage, not able to see much, because the male Coburn group was ahead of them, just being introduced by Alvin. They moved up during the applause, leaning against the partition wall and watching the men

greet the crowd. Briane noticed that Jason didn’t have his guitar. Mitch and Jude were out front, Coy in the center, Jason was nearest them, and Deege and others were on drums, keyboard, mandolin and violin. The Coburn’s did two songs; Mitch sang Amazed by Lonestar, Coy and the younger guys did a great (If you’re not the one) by David Bedingfield. Briane could feel Jason looking at her during that song. Madeline, she could see in her summery blouse and jeans, front and center, with Ruby, Kiera, and others. The Coburn’s covered Trace Adkins, (It was you), and then (Can’t you see) by Marshall Tucker. Jason came to them at the end of it, telling Brook, “You two are up. You want to bring Madeline on stage?” “Yeah. Sure. Why don’t we get everyone up here, Sunny and Rafe, even Kiera?” “Sure. Tell Mitch.” When she went on, he looked at Briane. She felt as if he wanted to say something, but he merely smiled and then she was walking past him, joining Brook. Alvin was doing a (this will close out the show,) chat, with the audience. Briane had to grin, watching Mitch and Jude at the edge of the stage, having a time apparently, getting their confused wives to join them. She nudged Brook. “Tell your Ma, you’re singing for her. She’ll probably take it gracefully.” Brook left her and walked to the edge... Briane found Kiera with her gaze and saw her sister shaking her head, no. When everyone was up on stage, Mitch talking to the crowds who clapped, Kiera was seated with Rafe, satisfied to observe she knew. Kiera had a beautiful voice, but she was a one-on-one type of person. She sang to her daughter, and in church, that was it. Briane heard the soft guitar intro. Brook joined her with rolled eyes, covering the mic Briane would use while she sputtered on a laugh, “Mom’s freaking out.” Laughing, Briane looked over at where Mitch held Madeline in front of him, his arms around her while he whispered in her ear. Jason stepped up. “Count off for Deege…”

All laughing stopped, lights went down, and then swept the stage, going over the Coburn’s, many of them holding their wives and significant others hands. Brook fit her headpiece on and gave Briane a nod, before walking toward Madeline and Mitch. She said, over the applause, “This song personifies two of the strongest, most loving people I know. I’ve recently become a mother, both are children of my heart, and it’s given another dimension to the respect and awe in which I hold my own mother, Madeline Coburn…” Applause. Brook smiled at Madeline who looked ready to cry, but held onto Mitch’s strong arms embracing her. Madeline leaned back into Mitch in a way that told Briane and everyone else, she drew her strength from him too. Brook said, “I’ve seen you live this song, mom. And I think of you, every time I hear it.” Brook glanced at her. Briane nodded. The guitar intro from Briane…then Brook started… Another day has almost come and gone—can’t imagine what else could go wrong. Sometimes I'd like to hide away somewhere and lock the door. A single battle lost but not the war ('cause) Briane sang the chorus with her, (Tomorrow's another day… And I'm thirsty anyway… So bring on the rain… Making her voice softer, taking the lower range… Briane sang and watched Madeline cry and smile. Mitch was enfolding her, waltzing her on stage, and the crowd was going crazy, loving it. It's almost like the hard times circle 'round. A couple drops and they all start coming down. Yeah, I might feel defeated, I might hang my head. I might be barely breathing - but I'm not dead Singing the last bit, Briane turned and found Jason watching Mitch and Madeline, his face holding both awesome joy and something entirely private. As if feeling her gaze he turned and was holding her stare as she did the last bars...I'm not gonna let it get me down….I'm not gonna cry………And I'm not gonna lose any sleep tonight…. Tomorrow's another day and I'm thirsty anyway So bring on the rain… The soft light no longer on her, another one was coming up, brighter on the Coburn’s, while everyone said say their goodnight

to the crowds, thanking them for coming to see all the new bands, which they mentioned, and artists, reminding everyone of the gospel and bluegrass, and blues music, the next couple of days… Jason walked slowly toward Briane. There was laughter, talk on stage, people moving instruments, and some of the Coburn’s clustered together. However, she felt that intimacy with him, hoped, in an hour or so, they would be rolling around in her bed— expressing some of this hunger, tension, and emotion, that had been simmering all day. “Do you need to stay awhile?” Jason shook his head. His eyes gazing incredibly aqua blue in the night. “No we pay a crew to clean up, and some of the college-age Coburn’s earn money working these shows.” Briane nodded. Jason brushed his fingers down her cheek, his eyes full of things she wanted him to say, yet aware this was not the place. “I’ll follow you home.” “All right.” She left him reluctantly and hugged Madeline, did some goodbyes, and then went down the stage steps. Kiera was waiting. “I’ll be out late…” she began, then looked up at Jason who stood behind Briane, obviously reading something between them. “Um. Scratch that. I’ll be out (all) night.” She laughed. Briane heard Rafe’s chuckle. Assuming her sister would get a local hotel room, she asked. “Will I see you at Mitch and Madeline’s or do you want me to bring Mora…” “I’ll come get her, visit a bit maybe, but not long, since they’re doing the morning show. Don’t worry about us just…” Kiera glanced at Jason, then back to Briane. “Whatever, you know.” Briane nodded and looked at Rafe finally. Before she could open her mouth, Kiera muttered pointedly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Briane smiled, understanding that Kiera was a little nervous and excited— a lot not wanting her to play an over protective role. They hugged. She waited for Jason, and then walked through the mess and crowd. His truck was near the camper, so they parted there. She was a long time pulling out, thanks to traffic, but could see when his truck eased in behind her, waiting for her to pull out.

The windows down, letting the nice summer air ruffling her hair, and cooling her body, Briane glanced now and then at the rear view. She was getting turned on. This was intentional, planned —sort of. This was her, inviting a man home, aware of what they both needed to do. Okay, so talk was an obvious. Yet despite the hurt they had inflicted with mis-communication or rather her not doing enough, she wanted, needed, dreamed—about a beginning-to-end night of passion with Jason Coburn. She had a kind of premonition that this deep a passion was going to bring pain, and of all the regrets she’d have, giving into the passion wasn’t going to be one of them. The miles to the house passed in unrepentant fantasy, summoning up old ones, embellishing new ones she’d had since meeting him—since their intimacy. Briane pulled into the drive. The night seemed so hushed after the concert music and crowds. He parked on the street. Briane got out and had her stuff on the porch and the security code in, when he reached her. Jason carried her things into the living room. She did not turn on any lights because there was a small one in the kitchen and the moon was shining bright through the French doors. Turning in the living room, watching him toss his keys on the table, standing by the sectional, she both wanted to run over there, jump on him and rip his clothing off—and lead him to bed and make slow love. Though shadowed, his face was sensual, handsome, eyes beautiful as he murmured, “Want coffee?” “Yes.” Jason walked past her, pulling the tails of his blue shirt out on the way to the kitchen, unbuttoning it as he sought and found the things he needed. Glancing up at one point while filling the pot with water, he regarded her standing there, having not moved. “Go get a shower, change, do whatever. I’ll bring it to you.” Briane murmured, thanks, and headed to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and let it run while she gargled and cleaned her teeth. Stripped, stepping in and sighing, Briane washed and held off replaying the incredible feelings during her performance. She wanted to savor it, go over it, and pinch herself. She wanted to cry, laugh, and…probably second guess. Turning off the taps,

she squeezed water out of her hair, and then stepped out with a dripping body onto a towel. The door opened. Jason stepped inside. He held a cup of coffee. She had taken a tepid shower so there was no steam to obscure her. He’d removed his shirt, his socks and shoes. His aqua gaze went over her. He handed her the cup, reaching for the towel before she could, he told her to lift her arms, and then wrapped it around her. Stepping back a moment, Jason pushed a strand of wet hair from her cheek, their eyes locked while water dripped from the showerhead. His voice seemed deep, hushed but intimate in the tiled room, “Chilled?” “No, it’s a humid night.” “Um.” He traced her lips. “How do you want me?” “Necked.” His gaze was burning light blue. “What did Max say to you backstage?” “Jordan text’d him while he was on the lift that I had a voice to sing songs people wanted to make love to—only she put it differently.” Briane cleared her throat. “You do.” She took a drink of the coffee—then dropped the towel. Taking his hand, Briane led him back to the living room. She slid the table easily to the far wall and turned to watch him undo the latch on his trousers. Glancing at his face as he pulled them off, she saw his eyes going over her body. Jason stood there, tall, muscular, tanned. He was so fine, she couldn’t find a flaw, and seemed all the more sexy with his mussed hair, nude flesh and muscle exposed. He was inviting her to look at him, watching her face, and scanning her body by turns while she took her sweet time indulging. Briane finally locked his gaze. “You’re magnificent.” He seemed to not know what to say. It was…endearing. She padded close to him, letting her hands glide up his strong wrist, forearms, and upper arms. Focused on his face, she found him still watching her. “You feel so good. Like warm velvet over steel, but so much a man…so damn strong…” Briane stroked his chest, shaped his shoulders, his pecs—

and loved the warmed scent rising from him. The tensing of his muscle, the virile power in the flesh, vein, and sinew, turned her on. Her hands smoothed over his abdomen and waist and she whispered, “We need to talk…but I want you.” She moved closer, letting her tongue taste his chest before reaching, on tiptoe, for his kiss. He gave it, gave it hot and deep. Before he could embrace her she took his wrists, holding his hands aside, and then began to nibble, lave, kiss his jaw, his neck and across his collarbone. She dragged her tongue over his skin sensually. Jason closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and let it out slowly. “Sweet, Jesus,” he rasped. Briane went as far as she could reach like that, adoring the taste of him, the texture of his nipples, the firm ribs. She released his hands. Peeking upward, she saw his lashes lift, and eased back to husk, “Can I keep going?” He stared at her a scorching moment, then rumbled deep, “Whatever you want…I…don’t ask.” “I didn’t…not since…Adam. But I need to, tonight.” Jason’s throat flexed on a swallow. He cupped her head then leaned to kiss her erotically—enough so she breathed harsh and deep when he pulled back. He trembled faintly though padded over to the sectional. Joining him, Briane ran her hand up the inside his muscular thigh, skin tender, hot. “Lie back for me. Let me touch and taste you.” Jason released a tense breath, nodded, and reclined, putting his long sexy body on the sectional, leaving her room to crouch over him. The next half hour was sizzling, erotic, interesting all in one. Briane, not having loved on a man in ages, and never one like Jason, rediscovered the pleasure of feeling and tasting male flesh. Discovered—how intimate the act was, how arousing it was to arouse Jason Coburn—aware he husked and murmured things, stroked her hair, her cheek, touched her shoulder. There was a tremor in him. When his head was not back, it was forward, watching her with half-mast eyes. One knee between his legs, the other at his hip, she touched him, rubbed her body on him, and felt his powerful legs, between them, while tasting the

tender skin of his abdomen, then biting and suckling his nipples. Drugged, turned on herself, Briane finally focused on his fully rigid sex. It had stroked her breast, her stomach, and felt silken and tender. She was delighted at his little flinches and jerks when she kissed or licked a sensitive spot on his hips or stomach. When she fisted him and sat back a bit, Jason groaned and covered her hand a moment. “I may not be good at this,” she offered. His aroused gaze went from her mouth to her eyes. “I don’t think there is such a thing. You are the most sensual woman I have ever seen. Your touch takes me apart….” Briane took her free hand and moved his away, watching him put it behind his head so that muscled chest fanned out. Bloody hell, but he was a sexy man. After meeting his gaze, she moved down, positioned, and touched him with her fingers softly while she familiarized her tongue and lips with the art of giving head. Wet, aroused herself, she got more so from his softest touch on her face, or when he felt her mouth when it rimmed his cock. He was breathing dark, terse. She was. It was an exquisitely intimate act. The more confident she got, the more of him she took, the more she laved, sucked and loved that part of him. Jason’s fist was in her damp hair, his sounds had long since turned to tense whispers. Since she was in her own world, enjoying herself, it took him nudging her with his other hand to raise her mouth from him. Briane laved her tender lips, obeying when he nudged her between his legs. She was kissing his stomach while he climaxed on her breasts. Jason shuddered and fell back gulping air. Briane raised, kissed him and climbed down to go wash up. She had her coffee when she returned, and wore a short silk robe. He stirred himself and went to the bathroom. Briane heard water running and padded over to open the French doors. The night was still very warm. He joined her. Coming up behind her, Jason leaned her back against him, one arm around her waist while he drank his coffee. He grazed the top of her head with his lips and murmured, “Thank you. And that is—inadequate.” She peeked up at him. “You’re welcome.”

He shook his head studying that grin. “I wasn’t kidding. You took me apart.” Finishing his coffee, Jason took both their cups to the counter and then closed the French doors. “Now—take me to your bed.” She did. Needing no light because of the full moon flooding in., she took the covers off so only the cool sheets remained. Jason turned and laid her across it, coming down so he was half over her. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb playing at her lower lip, his deep voice rumbled low, “I was going to talk too—But here in a moment or two, all I’m saying is, I hope you like it hard and deep, because I’m giving it like that.” He leaned and kissed her, much like that; hard, deep, aggressive. Briane legs shifted, hands going to his hair, and when he lifted, she laved her glistening lips and managed over the roar in her ears, “I’m turned on. I was before you came…” He smiled tense, was hard between her legs, and uttered sexily, “Um. Your eyes say fuck me, Jason.” Jaysus. She shivered, her teeth set. “Yes.” He flexed his hips and began sinking every inch of his sex into her. “No half way anything this time, Briane. I want it all.” Briane sucked in a breath, and then moaned. “Oh. God. Yes!” Jason aggressively grabbed her ass, then curled her a bit and sank all the way. “Hold on, baby.” He proceeded to drive, thrust, and grind a dozen times, until Briane was moaning, half sobbing and scoring his back. Briane could not get enough of him. His muscular body seemed to surround her. He certainly filled her, completely. He moved faster, jolting her exquisitely, wringing emotions, summoning them—seeming to draw more and more passion out of her. His dark back and chest dewed, he talked, tense, deep, explicit—and it drove her all the deeper into a carnal storm. He was all man, all male, all sex—and just what she needed. At some point he stopped. Their foreheads touched while they caught their breath. Both of their bodies dewed now, locked tightly, before he eased back on his knees, hands gliding to her hips. She saw through a haze of lust that he looked as lost as she felt.

Her tongue felt thick, and mind was fogged with hungers. “Wow” “Not hurting you, am I?” “You’re supposed to be too turned on to notice.” “I’m that. But I’m a lot bigger than you, woman.” She rubbed his arms. “You feel…incredible. I need this…” Jason kissed her, bit her lip, and then turned her on her side. Sliding her leg up, he entered her that way, stroked her inside to another feverish pitch, and then stopped—gulping to fill his lungs with air. “Condom…” he muttered and eased out of her. Briane rose to her elbows watching him leave; he came back with the foil pack, saying, “I swear to God—that’s twice with you…” She laughed roughly and sat up beside him. He was at the edge of the mattress, fitting it on. Her hand smoothed his nape, and she laved his ear, and then bit it. “That’s a turn on. Watching you do that.” He growled and turned, rolling her to her back. Between her legs again, Jason eased slower into her, his torso raised while he watched her face. Holding to his sides, she caressed his legs with her own. He raised more then reached back and skimmed her calves before parting her legs more, curling her again, going deeper indeed. Briane groaned and grasped his upper arms. “Oh-my-God. I don’t know about this…” Briane sucked in air. “I do.” Jason moved easy, slow, circles and short thrusts that both felt wonderful and made her a little crazy. “Yeah—you do.” His head moved so that he said in her ear, “I’m moving inside you deep, ah…Briane, I’m so close.” “Come.” “Real—close…” He drew all the way back and sank in. “Cum. I want….” He did cum, with a rumbling groan. She lay limp afterwards, while he cleaned up, her legs trembling, her body feeling him inside and out. Briane stirred eventually and went to the bath, spying him in the kitchen, getting water on her way. She joined him in bed, mentally shaking her head at the fact she was stirred again by

Jason Coburn’s big tawny body, tangled in her white sheets. The contrast of his skin and the sheets, his muscle and the softness, and that black mussed hair, his light eyes catching the glints of illumination… Better than fantasy…. She pulled open the side drawer and got a cigarette, then went to her knees, raising the window. Settling down again, sheet at her waist, Briane lit it and closed her eyes, rolling her head on the headboard and imagining the picture they made, the one she made…and how many fantasies she’d had like this, just like this, except for the mind-blowing sex—it was better. He was better… Jason reached across her, smelling of soap and toothpaste, and found the pack, lighting one. Her eyes opened. Jason was leaning a bit over her, gazing at her face. After a few draws he put the cigarette out and his hand eased under the sheet, between her thighs. Lightly kissing her nose, then her mouth, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, before he husked, “You’re so sexy. Great body, beautiful eyes that drown me.” Her sex was creamy from his touch, ultra sensitive, and Briane felt her lids get heavy when he softly caressed between the lips. “Umm. Yes, like that. Just…like that.” He kissed her breast, butterfly light, petting, only touching with his tongue, and his fingertips firmed their circles below. When she came, it was hard, intense, her neck arched, hips lifted. It shook her whole body. After surfacing, Briane dragged herself out of bed and cleaned herself up, returning to fall into his arms. He chuckled low, pulling her back spoon fashion after feeling her ass. Briane was on the edge of sleep when he said sleepy himself, “We should probably set a clock. Do you need to leave early?” “Around nine, Dad will have to go to The Mill. There won’t be much family at the house tomorrow, so I’m going to do the grilling out, and give them a break.” She caressed his arm that was around her. “We’ll wake before then. I will be there around four or so. I have to do some laundry and boring shit.”

He drew her more against him, their legs tangling. “Jason?” “Yeah.” Briane brushed his calf with her foot. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” “I understand, Briane.” “I know but…” “Shhh. I’ll want you again…” She laughed but then felt her own body stir. “I want you, a lot.” “You’re sexy when you come.” She caressed his hand and traced his fingers. “You make love… incredibility…and hold me like….so right.” He captured her fingers and murmured above her head, “You went down on me. That—came out of no where.” “I thought about it…a lot…a whole lot.” Jason was silent a moment. “That’s hot, Briane. Seriously. I thought when I met you; she has something—elusive, just almost fey about her. It’s your eyes, and when you sing, it’s as if the ancients were singing with you, or through you. I felt chills. Like you get when you hear music from the mountains, and hollows, just cannot define it. But when you’re passionate and wanting and hungry, God, it only takes a kiss or touch from you to tear me up…” She murmured softly. “You’re made for it.” He muttered a soft curse. “You’re turning me on.” “I know.” she held his gaze more seriously. “I felt you before you were ever inside me. But your passion burns my bones…” He raised. His mouth brushed her ear. “I was going to make sweet, slow, love to you. I was going to get you moaning and saying my name like you do…drive you wild.” She turned her head. “You’re sexy when I’m giving, but when you’re like…you were, just then, its great being the woman you’re stroking. I feel like I’ve been done like a woman should. After today, that’s what I needed. I feel like I’d been waiting half of my life for that.” Jason lips grazed her nape. “Briane…my ego is massive right now.” He kissed it softly, then asked, “When can I love you slow. Tongue you again.” She closed her eyes. “You’re turning me on.” He purred deep in his throat and nuzzled her ear. “Let’s go

eat ice-cream on the deck. We can catch up on sleep Sunday night.” She did, wrapped in the sheet, Jason in his half buttoned trousers. They sat together on the chaise, sharing a pint of ice cream and listening to crickets and night sounds. Briane was between his legs and after reaching over, filling his spoon from the pint she held, he ate it, then rested his hand on his bent knee and whispered quietly, “You could steal my heart, Briane.” She stretched to set the pint and spoon down, turning on her knees, to face him, taking his spoon and tossing it with the other. Briane let the sheet fall and cupped his face, leaning in and softly kissing him. She nibbled his lips, feeling his hands slowly but firmly caress and feel her. Their kisses were lips, tongues, hot kisses. They worked his trousers off. She took him into her slick, ready sex, like that, their eyes holding, his hands cupping her hips, hers on his upper arms. Watching his teeth bear down on his lip, she moved her hips sensually. “I want you so bad it hurts.” It did, both in her chest, and that pleasure pain in the core of her. Moving, undulating, their breathing terse, Jason’s hold moved her hips as he arched his. Tension tight, coiled, emotions rose to the surface. She got lost in his eyes, in the feel of their joined bodies. Briane rasped, “It’s so scary when it’s this strong, this intense.” Her neck arched, tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. “I need you, Jason. I need you, deep, filling me.” He grit, “Bri...” Then brought her to him tightly, their bodies’ close, his sex deep, hips arched to fill her with him to the hilt. “You make me crazy.” Briane groaned and grasped him tighter, flexing her inner muscles. “I have wanted you so long, so long…” Tears just kept coming. She held his head to her breast a moment, unable to stop the sob that shook her. Briane could feel him trembling, feel she was falling apart. “You’re just more, much more, than I thought.” He kissed her breast. “What do you mean you—?” She grasped his hair and pulled his head back, her tears making his face a blur. “I’ve been a mess. Had things I had to do. Didn’t think this would feel…”

He rasped, “Don’t cry, Baby.” Then, “Hell, You’re tearing me up, woman.” She could not stop the weeping. Briane kissed him, her sluggish tears mingling in it. She then let those fingers drag from his hair to his jaw, her thumbs stroking. “That’s what I feel…torn up.” “Briane.” He moved her hands away and cupped her head, bringing her to him for a deep kiss before he eased her off him. Standing, he all but ran with her into the house. Soon as they were on the bed, Jason sank himself deep, holding that way while gazing down at her damp face tensely. He moved slowly in her a few times, but she was too emotional for that. “Sweet is not going to happen tonight.” She shuddered. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” “Oh, hell no,” he whispered tense and dipped down to kiss her, then came out and turned her, his groan mingling with her cry when he entered her from behind. “Don’t be sorry for this, babe.” He gave her good, hard, loving. “… I could fuck you like this all night.” Teeth clenched she flexed her spine and rammed her heart shaped ass back against him. “Oh, God, Yes.” “Like that is it…” Jason thrust in and out hard enough to rock the whole bed. “I know all about the fire…I can feel it in you. Can you feel it in me?” He stroked it higher. “Yes—yes.” She could, and it was raging hot. By the time she was gasping, maybe screaming a little, Jason was praising, urging her, riding her hard and fast. Briane panted, “Jason…Damn…I don’t know what you’ve done to me…” Jason knew she meant her wild, uninhibited need. He said seconds before coming—holding her tight to him, “Hopefully not gotten you pregnant. I forgot the damn condom again.” Suddenly amused, and then hysterically laughing, Briane felt him slide out, cum smearing on her legs, and getting on the sheet. He gasped, “It’s not funny.” However, he was laughing too, his lax body still sprawled somewhat. Jason bit her ass. Which brought a scream and more laughter from Briane at his self-chastening mutters.

Moments later, they got to the shower. Laughter faded. They bathed each other, glided soapy hands, kissed sweet and soft, and explored each other— Briane felt worshipped by his caress, being under his obviously pleased gaze while he shaped the lines of her body. He got to his knees and picked up her feet, soaping her legs, kissing up them after the water rinsed down. When she washed his back, his hands, braced on the wall, head down, she whispered what a fine ass he had, caressed it too, and Jason told her no one ever touched him as she did. For Briane, it was a dream, half real, and half fantasy. At some point, she looked at his raven hair dripping runnels on his bronze face and throat, at his spiked lashes, and light blue eyes. She felt the surrealism of the past hours, of her being this close, this intimate with Jason Coburn… He was visually skimming her wet body too, her hair sleeked back, water glistening on her skin. Deep green eyes and the lightest blue locked in that cubical. The shower off, the head dripping like tics of a clock. She murmured, “I’ve seen you here, like this, walking out of the mists to me.” Jason’s whisper seemed deeper in the acoustics, “I love the way you talk. That you dream, the way you do.” He touched her wet mouth. “If only time would stand still…I’d live in this moment forever.” “If only…” Jason cupped her face, his thumbs brushing across her lips as he looked down at her and brought her close against him. Her palms glided up his muscled back. Jason was drowning in her eyes. “Someday you’ll sing for me.” “Just for you.” She promised. He swallowed thickly, touched her mouth ever so gently with his, and then raised an inch to utter, “No one has ever sung for me.” Her eyes blinked back tears. “They should have...” After kissing her loose and slow, he husked, “I want to drink you in large gulps and yet savor you in small sips. The taste of you is like life on my lips…”

Briane breathed shallow and shaky, her gaze searching his face before she returned, “I feel the same…” Jason kissed her and then turned off the taps, grabbing a towel with one hand and putting it around her. But they only made it to the hall where he went to his knees, and the towel fell to the floor, his lips and tongue suckled and played at her clit, until Briane pulled his head back, her eyes holding a dark fire. He arose and they were on the bed, Jason on the bottom, she atop and over him —opposite him. They moaned and gasped, breath sucked in at moments their mouths or tongues loved a super sensitive spot. They rolled to their sides, laving breasts, reaching to kiss, touching, rubbing, and rolled again with her at the bottom, and him atop, his hands lifting her ass up to his mouth, and her lips rimming him hard and tight. Before he could cum, Jason moved and laid between her legs, his fingers and mouth bringing her to the climax his love play had been building. Briane brought him pleasure too, making him lay, muscled thighs wide, her nails sinking into the muscle. The sound and escalation of his breathing was sexy, sensual, and his climax gave them both pleasure. Eventually they were out on the chaise, the both of them wrapped in the sheet. She laid between his legs, on her side, her damp hair against his fresh skin. Jason caressed her softly, sometimes her hip, sometimes her damp hair. His body protecting her. Briane murmured, “I’ve never had so much affection in my life. I could get used to this…” It hurt somewhere in his chest that he knew that was true. Jason held her head to his heart. One part a passionate and ultra sexy woman, the other part, an open and tender heart, afraid to need love. Briane drifted into sleep. It was while Jason was putting her in the bed, that his foot hit a box, just under the edge. He frowned in irritation at first, leaving her in the center while he went and locked up. Returning, he recognized the box and reached down to move aside the loose lid. He slowly went through it. Long after joining her in bed, he lay there holding her with his eyes open. His mind was trying to grasp what he’d found in that box. He had not meant to look or pry, but once he saw his face on

the photo—He didn’t really understand it. It did not fit her initial reaction to him. What the hell. He didn’t know what to think about all those pictures of him, spanning quite a few years. Briane kept them under her bed? That’s—what she was trying to hide that day….and it was her name, her address on the box, so he knew they weren’t just ones Brook kept. They were of him… There were videos that were sent to Brook though, and he didn’t recall what was on each of them, family gatherings, sometimes just him, joking and trying to keep that connection with her. One photo gave him food for thought, one taken he didn’t know about. It was at the last Fourth of July picnic. He was sitting on a rock out in the lake, his ragged denim shorts wet, knees up and wrists resting on them, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. He had just turned to look at whoever passed by and they took it, likely from a boat. His hair was dripping, mussed, his expression deep in thought or distracted but certainly one he wasn’t conscious of. Thing was…he could tell that photograph had been handled a lot. It had a scent, perfume, lotion—Briane’s. He lay there until the sun rose, trying to figure out—that new (why?) He sifted through her show, got it, and understood the emotions. Then, Jason dug mentally deeper, and saw it clearer in his mind, her past her present, but he had a feeling there was more. There was that connected sense when he met her, that knowing, feeling as if they’d connected a long time ago… Leaning up, he glanced at the clock and then kissed her shoulder. Jason studied her profile, the mussed damp hair falling over her flushed cheek, before he eased off the bed, dressed and found something to write her a note—about seeing her later today —looking forward to it. It was edging daylight when he drove home, the crisp air feeling good. Once there, he went in the back way so as to not wake kids and teens sleeping all over the place. He slept a couple of hours and then put on old jeans and his running shoes. Later, standing on his back balcony, shirtless sipping coffee, he listened to the sounds of nature, the neighborhood, and looked outward and inward at the same time. Someone had awoken and dressed

the kids, taken them to Sunday school or The Mill, somewhere to play. He turned around and leaned back, peering through the doors to the balcony and that seating, where he had been the first man to make good love to her in ten years. Wow. Had he ever second-guessed himself more afterwards? He had been out of his head turned on… His cell was ringing. He went below and got it off the counter. “Hey?” Briane’s voice came over the line. “Are you just getting up?” He laughed. She snorted, “Someone rode me hard last night.” “Too bad. I was thinking…” “Yeah, well. I’m not that tired.” They chuckled. After a moment, he said gently, “You were scared, weren’t you…I mean, the first time we kissed?” “Terrified.” Sitting down on the stool by the counter he wiped his hand over his mouth, absently gazing at the pattern of the granite. “You punished yourself a long time, didn’t you? For how you handled your life after Adam? You felt like you didn’t deserve a chance, or love, or even to be a mother?” “Yeah.” Jason reached out, drew his cup over, and fingered the handle while listening to her tense breathing. “Did you feel you betrayed him—Adam, by not keeping it together?” “Something like that.” Her breath released terse. “When partying and drowning it out didn’t work…when I was puking sick, wondering who I’d let…I knew I had let us both down. That lasted about 3 years. And—with sobriety comes feeling. Feeling, the pain and guilt, and being accountable to yourself. It was better to shut down.” “Seven years…exiling yourself to the wilderness, huh.” “More or less. I got over the bad parts, the grief too. But finding my way back to the music, just finding my way at all—was hell. I had met Brook. She was young and in a lot of pain—we had a lot in common, oddly enough. I guess we helped each other because we accepted each other. She told me a lot about Madeline, and the similarities. There was my fascination with your family. and I began to find a compass of sorts….I cannot explain it

all because I wasn’t even sure I’d ever take Brook up on her offer and actually move here, but there was something leading me…” “What?” He picked up the cup and sipped, his gaze on the window and the shadow of the white pine tree there. Briane cleared her throat. “Brook helped me fill a lot of holes, see another kind of family, of people who cared by sharing everything. She drew me in, and there was her Ma, and your Da, and your family…she shared all that with me.” Jason set the cup down and idly turned it a few times while he debated before murmuring, “Your Dad left, your mother fell apart, and Adam died. None of that is your fault, Bri.” She was weeping now, he heard her sniff in and it sounded like she had a cold when she whispered, “Makes you afraid to love too much. To care too much. You don’t want to feel the pain…and once you fail, big time, you’re a little broken and the mending takes time.” “Makes you shut down, and close doors, too…” After a bit he added softly, “You had anger, all that pain, and you worked your way back. That’s pretty damn strong, Bri.” “I wasn’t, but I’m trying. Mostly, I didn’t want to fall short. Once you can reach, you try to reach further, but believing it will last, all that. Not easy.” Jason got up and walked to the sink, placing his cup in it. “I’m headed over to Dads. It will be a nice easy day. Relaxed…” He smiled a little. “Until I think about how wild you were last night.” That got the laugh he wanted. He would bet she still blushed. She said, “You tease me in front of them, and I’ll never forgive you.” “I won’t have to. It’ll be written all over our faces. I’m semi-hard just thinking about those hours…” When she groaned, he chuckled. “I’ll see you later.” “I’ll bring food.” Before hanging up, he murmured, “I never stayed the night with a woman. Never.” There were seconds’ ticking off before she murmured, “I wish you had stayed longer.” “I do too.” She asked, “Want to talk about your mother?” “Whoa…Who told y—”

“—Brook, but Mitch talked about her. About your…strained relationship.” Jason tensed and rubbed the back of his neck, aware that his voice grew distant, as he returned, “Nothing to say. It’s not like you are a part of Liam’s life, or for the reasons you are. It’s not like Madeline was, with Max. It’s not that kind of thing. If I gave her everything she thinks she wants, it wouldn’t change what matters.” Hell he didn’t want to say—she wouldn’t love me then either. Jason did manage, “She’s failed at her marriages and failed at life. She has wealth and little else. My grandfather spoiled her. The things she sees as my lack and my failures, are her obsessions, because without that obsession, she has an empty existence.” “She—calls you?” “Yes. You won’t ever meet her. I haven’t seen her in… years, nor plan to.” He could hear the harshness in his tone. But hell, he didn’t want to discuss Rhonda. There was no point in it. “Why do you still have a relationship with her if she hurts you?” “Fuck if I know. Maybe I feel sorry for her.” Briane whispered, “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined your mood.” Jason realized he had snapped that out. He looked up at the ceiling, gathering himself, dropping his hand and rolling his head a moment. “No. it’s just never going to be a good subject.” “I never heard from my Da, after he left. Don’t have a clue or a care where he is.” “Oh, there are times I wished she’d…” He stopped. “I understand that. It has to be hard to deal with her.” Jason wanted to leave the subject, bury it. He murmured, “Can we talk about how good it was between us last night, instead?” “Yeah,” her voice held a smile in it. “But then, I’m going to think about all the girls you’ve been with and wonder if…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bri, I can’t diss them for inviting casual sex, because I obviously was too. But the sex was cheap and…I’ve told you what it was…” “Listen, let’s not spoil the day. I’ll see you later.” “Bri—you sound—shit.—It filled the empty hours—it—was…” “—No really, we don’t have to go there. It was an emotional day yesterday. All the closeness and intimacy last night, maybe I’m

just feeling…vulnerable. Maybe, it’s hard to believe we could feel this so fast…we agreed it’s scary…” “I’m not playing games with you, Briane.” “Neither am I. And, I didn’t think you were, Jason. It’s not games. It’s, do I feel secure enough to have a relationship with you without getting bent over your fan girls? Wondering when you’re doing a show…wondering—if we go out, will one of them….shite. I’m sorry.” She shuddered a sigh. “See, here we go again…I’m…” “Don’t be. I can’t expect you to just ignore my track record. Wish you could, but if the situation was reversed, I’d be cautious too. I can take caution. What I don’t want is those walls going up and you getting silent again. I am not good at guessing with you, Bri. We need to be together more than a few moments here, an hour there. Hell I can answer you if you ask, or respond if you tell me, but I can’t guess.” Briane murmured, “If I didn’t feel deeply for you, Jason, it wouldn’t scare me. The both of us know it’s more than casual. You know some things about me, most of them, I’m not a woman who gets involved with a guy for sex. If there wasn’t a deeper connection…” “Thank you, for telling me that.” “Am I that difficult to read?” she said softly. “No. and that’s what made me a little crazy. I can see and feel…” “You’re better at reading me than you think.” “We’re going to talk more. I’ll see you at Dad’s.” After she hung up, Jason sat on the sofa in the family room a moment and looked around the house, wishing he could re-do the last few years. Knowing he couldn’t. His dad, most of the family had some theory about why he spent time with women he’d never get serious about. Max, even though teasing him it was a game, often told him he did it to avoid being vulnerable with a woman. Maybe so. He recognized there was a line he drew, and that “fun” was what he offered them. No commitments. Okay, maybe he did draw the line because it was easier to lose someone you didn’t care for, or rather break from them, rather than care for them and realize they couldn’t for you. Still, Jason didn’t talk about his personal feelings with those girls. They never got deep or serious because he was to them,

what they were to him. Yeah. He went through a dozen of them… and It sure as hell was coming back to bite him in the ass. **** It was past noon. Rafe sat deep in the shade of the porch, watching Kiera come out the front door, talking on her cell to Mora. Who, from the sound of it, wanted permission to go to a local water park with some other kids. It was Ruby and Jude’s treat. He heard her talk to the grown up—Susan he thought, and she said she would pick Mora up at Mitch’s later. Kiera walked to her car, putting her overnight case in it. It had taken some talking to get her to stay in the guestroom the night before. They had gone to the place he suggested, but after a day of concerts, a mariachi band and intoxicated patrons, was not the greatest idea. They had eaten something light, laughed a lot at some of the dancing and antics of the customers—then, taken coffee-liquor to go and ended up sitting in his drive, in her convertible back seat, talking for hours. Though, now she had on a white denim skirt, a blue tank shirt and sandals, last night she had managed to surprise him—in every good way. They had stopped here and showered, changed. She’d come downstairs in a teal dress that fit every curve, stacked teal heels and white shimmery stockings, that he discovered in the car as her hem slid up, were lace-topped and distracting as hell every time he changed gears. The dress had a square low neck, a halter-top—leaving her upper back bare. Her make-up was some sexy smoky color and her lips had been darker. Rafe got up and padded inside to get her coffee. He had pulled on faded, ratty Levis and no shirt. It was going to be a hot one. Carrying the coffee out, he caught her eye and nodded, placing it on the table. She clicked off the phone and walked to the porch, her hair ruffling in a slight breeze. “Thanks.” Kiera took a seat to his right, a bit angled so he had a full view of her, and of those legs when she rested her feet on a rung of the table his own were propped on. They shimmered with some kind of lotion today. She had smelled great, felt it too. His dark eyes caught her gazing at him as she sipped. Rafe did not look away either—wondering if she was thinking about the same thing he was. There had been a point after they talked about Mora’s birth, some of her jobs, his job at The Tavern and all the

good friends he made—their mood lightened. They exchanged some amusing stories about their native country, just the people, funny shit in between the struggles to survive—then they had fallen silent. He had turned. She’d had her head leaned back on the seat, moonlight bathing it. The sexy eyes, glossed mouth, and shimmer on her skin, the dress, was a potent combination. He had kissed her, soft, testing, but it was like igniting tinder. She’d had a catch in her breath. Her fingers had gone to his hair and the way her body sensually sought his and arched to him, he had deepened his exploration of her mouth. He could not blame the liqueur in the coffee either. He’d felt her, that body, through silken clothing, full breasts, curved in waist, womanly hips, and eventually those great legs. Kiera had made sounds that echoed in the night air. She had trembled. Kiera had felt him too and worked her hand under his shirt. He had to admit, it turned hungry, heady, just lightening hot, in seconds. That shirt was missing several buttons now. “Breakfast?” He watched her look away and take another drink. “No. Thanks.” There was a flush to her cheeks. Yeah, she remembered the part where he felt that silken skin above the stockings, the moment he leaned her into the corner of the seat and was kissing her while he fit his hand between her legs. Man. He had to stop replaying. It turned him on. Kiera turned him on. Whatever restraints and inhibitions she had, fled, and what unfolded next was so sexy and erotic, he later wished he had been less out of his own head and savored it. Her whispers, those feverish sounds, still floated somewhere in there though... “Kiera?” She glanced at him, her eyes having only a touch of mascara, but still so expressive. Her lips were lightly clear glossed, and Rafe tried not to stare at them. She kissed amazing. She had the softest lips that kissed the wickedest kisses. Rafe lowered his feet and sat a bit forward, forearms on his knees while he regarded her. “You all right about last night?” She rolled her lips. “Yes...I...” her flush spread.

He grinned softly. “Good.” Blowing a breath, she lowered her feet too, and glanced out at the yard, the cup between her palms. “Sorry... about your shirt.” Rafe got up, coming to lean his back against the near post to her, facing her profile. “The only thing I regret is that I didn’t have a condom.” She flickered her gaze to him, slowly up and down, from his bare feet to his breeze ruffled hair; Rafe knew the worn denims wouldn’t hide anything if she did that for long. Finally, her eyes held his, giving him a chill down his spine. Kiera said almost too soft to hear, “I know they’ll be redoing the kitchens during the day, at the house, but I thought… I’d go ahead and furnish the living area…” He had already told her he was selling this one. However, Rafe thought he knew why she mentioned that. “When we were searching in antique shops for the décor, you fell in love with that brass bed…” “I did.” She laughed breathless, almost nervous and her gaze dropped to his chest. “Do you think I should buy it?” “Yeah.” He waited for her gaze to meet his again. Rafe murmured, “I’ll go with you Monday evening…” She nodded and looked away again. “Hey.” Rafe leaned down and took her hand, tugging her to stand. Kiera set the cup down and stood, Rafe bringing her to the front of him, and sliding his hand around to her spine. He felt her tremble, felt her breath stir his jaw when she let herself lean into him. Then, there it was, her soft hand gliding up his arm, her mouth touched his sun warmed shoulder… She whispered, “I’m sorry, I can’t be this close to you and not…” His other hand cupped her head while she tasted his jaw, the side of his neck, her legs trembling much like the had last night. Her hands felt him, his upper arms and the backs of his bare shoulders. Breathing her heady perfume, feeling her feminine body against his, Rafe murmured, “You don’t need permission.” Kiera was softly kissing his throat, before leaning back, her

gaze watching her lighter hands caress his dark upper chest. His nipples were rigid, he felt himself go rock hard when her fingertips brushed over them. She peeked upwards and he saw what made him burn, in her gaze. “Neither do you.” Rafe’s head dipped. He took her mouth in a slow, erotic kiss. His hands smoothed over her ass, up her back, and down again, to find the hem of that skirt. His palm stroke the back of her thigh. Their mouths parted. She weaved her fingers through his hair, then cupped his nape, her other hand eased half down in the back of his soft low slung jeans, on the upper part of his ass. That she nudged him toward her subtly with it, was sexy as hell. “I have to go soon,” she whispered. “Get some things done before I pick up Mora.” Rafe held her gaze. She was so turned on when she was close to him, and it went right to his head. That she had said last night she wanted to touch and taste him, floated through his mind in that same haze. “You don’t have to go needing…” He skimmed that hand around, up between her thighs until his fingers felt her damp heat through lace panties. Feeling her fingers flex on him, he husked, “I’m going to tear these unless you want to take them off…” He fit a finger under the lace. She shuddered a breath and slid her hand down. “You know what I… told you last night? About having only that week of the physical thing…when I was in college, before I got pregnant. And the kissing and all with…I was being honest. I have never really been with a man, a lover. Not one who knew about women or cared to. Cared what they needed or…..” Her gaze found his, Rafe was listening, trying to relay whatever she needed to speak to him more comfortably. She said, “I wasn’t lying about that, nor the fact that I don’t know how to pretend…to not want, or feel, what I do.” Rafe’s soft kiss cut off her speech. Damn, she just got to him. She really did. Leaning back, head against the brace, he regarded her from between sleepy lashes. “I like that about you.” His hand moved so he could trace her lips with the pad of his finger, around them softly. “You kiss so hot and sexy; you think because you tremble and I don’t, that’s some disadvantage? It’s not. Just because a

man hasn’t touched you like this, doesn’t mean you don’t have enough passion in you to make me forget myself. I came damn close last night.” He laughed on a groan, and moved his fingers to the spot her pulse beat at her throat. “I don’t know about where I’m supposed to be, about being ready for whatever with someone, I don’t know everything, Kiera. But I know you’re different, and it’s not the different you think.” Rafe let those fingers below tease her inner thigh. “Because I was the first to give you a climax, you assume there’s something wrong with needing one even if we’re not making out?” He made a sound in his throat. “I turn you on?” “Easily.” His white teeth grin flashed. “Enough so you could cum?” Though flushed, her gaze held his. “Y-es.” “That’s hot.” He raked his teeth over his lip and slid his hand from under her skirt. “I like how you feel there. I like giving orgasms.” Kiera peered upwards. “I feel so… stupid…I feel like I should apologize. God sakes, it’s the middle of the afternoon…we weren’t even kissing…” Rafael cupped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “It’s not stupid to feel like a sexual woman. I’m rock hard.” His brow cocked and his stare was half-mast. “I don’t care what time of day or night it is. Neither should you. We did a lot of fooling around last night. We were both still crazy turned on when we stopped. I want to…” Blowing out a long breath, stepping back from him, kicking her feet free of the sandals, Kiera pulled the panties off and laid them on the table. Rafe grinned. She flushed red again. However, came trustingly back to him, sliding her arms around him a moment. Embracing her, he said softly, “Wouldn’t you rather I walk you around the house, lay you on the back porch and put my tongue there.” She turned her head, lips grazing her ear, hand going down, over his side. Then she moved her hips back so she could easily slide it down the front of his jeans, to the curls there, and the silken hardness of his sex. “Te deseo. I want you… inside me.”

Dios. Even the hot sweet-shy way she said it made him lose it. Rafe shuddered this time, hands cupping her head and turning so she was against the post. Kissing hot, hungry now, he worked up her skirt and undid his jeans. His tanned fingers eased through the silken curls and hot juices once, finding her smooth, slick, wanting…He lifted her by the backs of her thighs and was going up, into her, his forehead against her shoulder, mouth parted, panting from the snug liquid fire, and her drowning sound of pleasure. Rafe held her as still as he could and leaned his head back to view her passion and pleasure-filled eyes. They were shimmering with tears. Her hands gripped his forearms. Nevertheless, there was no mistaking the bliss that made her face utterly beautiful. Locking their gaze because he could not speak, Rafe moved in and half out of her, with tense strokes, veins filling in his neck and his strong white teeth cinching because he was going to cum in her and knew it. Completely reckless… Kiera breathed sexily. She arched her neck, “I knew you’d feel this way. I didn’t know a man could fill me this deep, this complete.” Panting, she looked at him again, feverish. “Soon as I get that bed, I want to cum with you inside me. Please?” Rafe did manage an, “Oh—fuck...” Seconds before he came, pressing tight, up, inside, and deep. His mouth found hers, groaning out his climax there. A half hour later found them standing by her car. She was in the driver’s seat, the motor running, and he stood with arms lightly folded and his mind half on those lost moments, and half on what she said when they’d gone up and washed in the guest bathroom. He had sat on the edge of the bed after washing, waiting for her to emerge, having raked his hands through his damp hair, and wondered where the hell his control was. Kiera came out and reached to smooth her fingers through his hair, her eyes still holding sparks of that bliss, but a more sensual, I know my body now, kind of pleasure. She had searched his expression and then sat beside him on the edge of the bed, her hand going to his spread thigh and rubbing lightly… She said softly, “I want you to understand something. I want

you, Rafe—I want you, for you—for everything you are. I like that, intimacy. It’s something I waited to feel. All of this is. I’m ready for this kind of relationship and am plenty old enough to handle any consequences.” He’d put his arm around her. “Believe me, nena—I don’t lose my head like that.” “I like you—like that.” She laughed. He knew she did. Rafe turned his head and observed her with some wonderment. She was such a mixture of shy and bold, reticent and hungry… “We can keep the professional and personal lines clearly drawn,” she had offered quietly obviously not reading the look for what it was. “I don’t have a problem with that. I’m not going to make it a problem for you.” “I didn’t consider it a problem. Chiquita,” He corrected her gently, “I’m just coming to terms with my own feelings.” His gaze probed hers a moment. She murmured, “I need to be made love to. I want to know the how, and the ways… and make love to you, too.” “Not a problem.” “Rafe, I trust you on every level that counts. You have no idea what that word means—yes—you do know my past, and what it means to me. But this is a first, and it feels right.” She stood and offered her hand. Rafael had walked down with her. So, here he was, standing by her car now, usually the suave and easy-going one, now knowing he’d spend the rest of the evening thinking, trying to absorb what was happening here…. Kiera caught his gaze before she put her sunglasses on. Her smile was that mixture of bashful and daring at the same time. “I’ll see you Monday, about five?” “Yeah. We’ll meet at the house.” “I’ll get some cleaners over there, and shop for a few things after I drop Mora off for summer school.” “Okay.” He leaned down and kissed her, making an ummm sound, because kissing her felt—great. She put the car in gear and left. Rafe walked back to the porch. He lost hours just thinking in circles. He’d list his house soon. He could rent one close to the

restaurant, maybe. He could picture that brass bed in that huge master suite… the windows with wispy curtains, sun kissed breeze pouring in… and Kiera laying nude on white sheets. He could see himself holding her creamy thighs and moving inside her…. Rafe laid his head back on the wicker settee. He could admit she had been on his mind since the first night they talked at that café, when he was at the Restaurant. After they had spent hours together. He liked Mora. For a kid that had been through a trauma, she was generally happy, intelligent, and with a sharp wit. He thought there was such warmth and heart in the kid, due to Kiera’s affection and care no doubt. She was one of the easiest children to be around, and so cute with that accent. Kiera—yeah, he’d always mull over things she confided, muse on little things, like the way she brushed her hair behind her ears, or when she rattled off a string of “Irish” slang in her frustration. Very amusing. Rafe thought of how hard she had worked to make a life, and what she’d given up, though found another dream. He had thought about how she looked at him when he talked. She was a good listener. He had mused many times, sitting here at night, that he was attracted to her on several levels. He wanted her again. He wanted hours in a bed with her. He wanted to show her the why and the how and watch her experience them. Having mused on all of that, the one thing he didn’t doubt was that they could work well together. Rafe made himself get up and go in to get some packing up done. As he did that, consciously prepared to move to another house and another stage, in his life—he realized what the overall feeling was with Kiera. She made him feel good. She reminded him of all the things he needed, conversation, work, attraction, and passion…laughter. He was wise enough not to go too fast emotionally, but it was damned hard to keep control—when she made him forget there was such a thing.

Chapter 13 Jason had gone to his Dad and Madeline’s after hanging up with Briane. He fired up the grill out back, in the shade. He cooked burgers and put them in the warmer to go with the rest of the potluck meal. Most of the older group wouldn’t be there. Jude and Ruby, a few others, had taken the kids to a water park. A dozen of the teens ended up out back—with himself, Max, Jordan, Coy, Brook, Deege, Deege’s girlfriend, with music cranked up, dancing—craziness going on with Alvin and GW up from the backyard, in the shade, working on their reels and stocking their tackle boxes. Every now and then, they sprayed someone with the water hose that was up there to water the horses—which was sure to lead to a show down later in the day... Mitch and Madeline had each of the grandbabies, playing in the cool interior of the den, an air mattress down where they’d all end up, no doubt, napping. Some of the cousins were absent because Donna had her baby boy sometime in the early morning. Beer, grill smoke, and throbbing dance music, lots of laughter and joking. Everyone was in high spirits because of The Mill opening, successful shows, and record ticket sells. The cooking long since done, he grinned and leaned a shoulder against the shade tree a moment, sunglasses on his head, enjoying his beer and a cigarette. His shirt off, faded old jeans resting comfortably low on his hips, Jason watched Max and Jordan, Coy and Brook, dancing with the teens. Jason was taking a sip of beer when he caught sight of Briane coming out the back door. He lowered the beer and laved his damp mouth. Her eyes were on Brook and the rest, giving him time to drink her in while she was not attending. Her hair was up in some muss with strands falling here and there, sunglasses on her head. She wore low-rise cammo short/pants to the knee, with an olive green tank that left an inch of tummy skin showing. Her shoes were cloth Converse and looked comfortable. Jason noted the sheen to her legs and remembered how they felt, how shapely they were. He watched her walk toward the picnic table—probably to sit, and remembered vividly what those fine hips looked like nude, and that waxed strip of curls between her legs, the light hue of her nipples, and the way her body moved. He subconsciously laved

his lips again, remembering the taste of her, breathing in and wishing he had Briane in a sun drenched field—going down on her… She was listening to something one of the teens said as she sat atop the table, and he thought of that face, now in dappled sun and shade, the skin flushed at the cheeks. The unique green of her eyes would always give him chills, day or night. Briane finished listening, nodded, and turned her head right toward him. He watched her eyes go down his body. It felt like a sensual burning. They came back up, slowly, until their eyes met. He knew she was picturing him as he had been last night. Jason grinned and raked his teeth over his lip. Damn, but he had never felt a woman’s look like a touch. Never had one love on him as she did. Briane rubbed her hands down her thighs before flushing, and glanced down so she could extract a pack of smokes from a side pocket. She had lit it by the time Jason joined her. He sat atop the table beside her. She blew the first draw and peeked up at him. He leaned over and said, “Next song, we dance.” Briane nodded and turned to watch the others—laughing too when Max and Coy started dancing sexy for their women. The teens were stepping back, whistling and bowing, Coy and Jordan doing a come-hither motion, walking backwards in a dance step that had the two men dancing toward them, with grinding and shaking asses, to Ciara 1, 2, step….It ended with everyone doing the oooweee sounds. Laughter all around followed, and kisses for the men, before Brook and Jordan came to greet Briane. Jason stood and raged his brother and Coy a bit, bragging some on his own skill, which was like a challenge to them both. “Your ass looks pretty tired today, cuz.” Coy guffawed. Jason grinned and cocked his brow. “My ass is grand. Just ask Briane.” That got a laugh from Max too. As intended. “Not bad for old dudes,” One of the young males said passing by them to change the CD. To which another girl cousin yelled, “Ha. Coy taught you to dance before the junior prom, Chris. You used to have two left

feet.” Jason turned to see Brook whispering to Briane. He could tell she was teasing her, as too, was Jordan. Brook was in cut offs and a thin linen shirt, her bathing suit top, because she’d swam with Coy this morning. Jordan, in cut offs and some kind of tank, with an x back. Briane glanced at him while muttering something that got both women whooping. He had that; damn I like this woman, feeling. Aware that under the jokes, what both of them were doing today was both a thread of that passion, and a question mark, several on his part because of the pictures she had accumulated of him. When (Tonight I’m loving you, by Enrique Iglesias) started, he stepped over and murmured, “Scuze me, ladies.” And took Briane’s hand, leading her to the clearing where others had danced. He had waltzed with her, but man, Jason thought, dancing with her in daylight could be dangerously sexy. The woman moved sensual, hips, ass, perfect hot rhythm. He was moving for her too, giving her so rub, and Max and Coy were dancing with Brook and Jordan. He could not take his eyes off Briane. I know you want me…it’s obvious that I want you too… Rock your body…damn I like the way that you move… A sheen of sweat coated his skin. Briane got into the music, her ass to his front, and his hands on her hips… Jason flipped GW the bird, when a spray of water hit him. He watched Briane laugh. It had struck her too. However, even in the joking and carrying on, there was that undeniable chemistry that could easily make them forget the time of day—or that anyone else was around. When the song was over, he, Max and Coy, went up the hill, after the brothers, wrestling the hose away—and soaking them both. Screams, laughter, cheers, curses, before they were coming back down to the tables, their bodies soaked too. Jason had lost his sunglasses in the wrestling. He finger combed his hair back, meeting Briane’s eyes while they laughed. He walked to where she stood by the table and heard her murmur, “You’re losing your trousers.” Her hand went to his wet lower stomach. “Not that I mind but…”

Jason arched his brow, lowering his hands now that his hair was out of his eyes. “I’ll do that for you, sometime…strip. Come inside with me while I find something dry…” She did, leaving behind more horseplay and music. They stepped into the back door. Jason led her to the roomy guest bath. “Hand me one of those.” He motioned to the towels folded on board shelves. He was already dropping his jeans when she turned— and for a moment Briane just stood there, the towel open in her hands, her eyes on his body. The room had perfect acoustics so when he groaned, “You look at me like that much longer, Briane, and that towel’s not going to close…” When her eyes rose to his, he was across that one foot of space, kissing her, cupping her head, and driving his tongue in deep. Her breathing grew as hot and heavy as his. The towel fell somewhere on the floor. He stepped on it backing her hard toward the wall. About the time he had a hand full of her nice ass, and she was biting his arched throat—there was pounding on the door. “Hey, man. Can you at least hold off until we get a towel?” Coy’s laughter came through the door. Jason raised his head, dragging air into his lungs, his eyes on her dazed expression and kiss swelled lips. Her hands were on his bare ass, clutching. More banging. Max’s voice called out, “Damn Bro, my balls are climbing up to my armpits in this AC. Have some mercy.” Before he whispered to Briane, “They’ve never had good timing.” She laughed weakly. “Let them in,” and leaned down to get the towel and hand it to him. He wrapped it around his waist and yanked the door open. Max and Coy were laughing as they came in. “Don’t start dropping trousers until I leave,” Briane yelped when it appeared they would. She dashed for the door with Max and Coy teasing her about getting a look at a real man. Bri, to her credit, muttered that Jason was enough of that, for any woman. Jason washed a bit from the sink, and then sat on one of the benches, fishing his damp wallet and things out of his pants. Max, nude, grabbing a towel and tossing one to an equally nude Coy, snorted, “Sorry, normally I’d let you get some, but I thought Id remind you where you are, and that there’s a dozen

people going to be knocking on this door…” “You’re so considerate.” Jason grinned dryly at him and headed for the door and the guest room. “Ain’t I just.” Max laughed and the two followed him there too. “Loan me something.” Coy asked as Jason dug through one of the dressers. Tossing him a pair of khaki carpenter shorts, Max having clothing in the closet, Jason then pulled on dry Levis and athletic shoes, a white tank undershirt. He asked, while they were combing their hair and getting dressed, “What would you think if you found out someone kept dozens of pictures of you…I mean over the years.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Max, who stood by the dresser, turned, half sitting on it, gazing at him. Coy came over and Jason thought his glance was somewhat evasive before he leaned his hips on the other side. The both of them were regarding him without jesting this time. “Obviously, you mean Briane?” Max arched a brow. Jason nodded. “She showed them to y—” Coy began. “—No.” Jason shook his head. “My foot hit the box when I was….laying her on the bed.” Ignoring their knowing grins, he told about that first incident, when she had knocked the box over, and how she’d freaked. He muttered, feeling tense again, “The thing is, if it means something…then it don’t make sense to me. Not the way she was when we met…” “Yeah, well. I heard about all those phone calls you got on the way from the airport,” Coy said wryly. “Even if it meant something …” “You know something I don’t? “Maybe.” Coy didn’t deny it. “I’m not the person you should be asking. Why not just ask Briane?” Jason rubbed the back of his neck and stood. He walked over to look out the window, at the back yard. “I haven’t known where we’re going…if I knew something of how she felt, if I thought…hell, it would make it easier, to take the relationship to the next level.” “What next level?” Max intoned with a grunt. “You’re lovers; you fight with enough passion to make that obvious. You’ve been observably torn up since you met her. And pardon my bluntness,

but compared to how you were with other women you dated, anyone who knows you knows—you’ve got it bad for her…” Coy put in, “Dude. I gave you a hard time, but you’ve made it plain to everyone this ain’t fun and games. Seriously, Jason, you need to just put it out there. Because you’re tearing yourself up. Everyone’s seeing it. You’ve got to stop being so afraid of admitting you love someone…” Jason stared at him. “Did I say that?” Coy’s grin was sympathetic. “You don’t have to. We all grew up together. I know you. It hit you hard and fast, and threw you for a damn loop.” Teeth in his lip, Jason muttered something and searched around for a cigarette. Max suggested. “Let’s go out to the side yard, and talk.” They did, going out the front and around the house, to the picnic table in the side yard, having grabbed cold sodas on their way. Smoking tensely, Jason sat on the table, with Coy on the side, and Max with his legs stretched out, on the seat below him. Max offered, “If—I found that out, I’d assume they had a thing for me.” He arched his head to look up at Jason. “And she’s as obvious as you are, although, I think she is scared. Smart, considering your rep. I get it; totally understand your man-hoor stage…” Jason narrowed his eyes on him. “I doubt it. I don’t understand it myself. In hindsight, seems like someone else…” Coy muttered, “I was no saint, so I get the whole pretty girl offers sex, and though it was about my being a jock, I sure as hell have regrets. But, Jason, you’re waiting for her to tell you first. But you should—” “—She wouldn’t believe me.” Jason cut him off. Coy appeared to consider. “It’s obvious why someone would have pictures of you…you know that. I don’t think you have to ask her why—particularly if you’re not sure she’s ready to admit this thing y’all have going, is more than just attracted people dating. But then, it’s really up to you to convince her how you feel, so she can tell you…whatever.” Max offered, “Always a risk, but if she’s worth it…” Jason didn’t like the odds. He said bluntly, “We’re good

together—physically. No question. We even talk about issues to a point. We don’t talk about what we feel. Wait, we did last night and this morning—but it wasn’t like defining the relationship.” Max got to his feet and scratched his chin before muttering, “What is it you want, Jason?” “Her.” Max grunted and Coy chuckled. However, Max said, “You’re a Coburn, Bro. Go after her. I put it together after that incident at The Mill that she had some things to prove, things to do, and that she has trust issues with you. Again, something you have to work through because you earned that rep. Even though you’ve pursued her, sexed her, you haven’t exactly expressed how you really feel.” “I didn’t expect this to be so intense. The attraction was, mutually, but then things started really hitting me, right in the guts. It’s crazy how you want to be everything they need—but you’re guessing mostly. Shit. I’m not someone good at taking themselves apart. I have been lately.” Jason put the cigarette out and got down. They all stood gazing down the hollow a moment. The women, Brook and Jordan were walking up the road pushing baby strollers, Madeline and Briane walled slightly behind talking... “I swear, I thought only women came apart during lovemaking. I can handle that part, a lot better than I can wanting her to understand me—or all that other shit. I mean, who wants to need someone for all that? It makes you—not who you always thought you were.” Both men were looking at him. Coy had lit a smoke now. He glanced at Max and sat down, eyeing the grass between his feet. Max was still regarding Jason, who was staring in the direction the women had taken when he said seriously, quietly, “You’re going to get pissed at me for saying this—but this is as much about Rhonda, as it is what you’re feeling with Briane.” Jason’s cheek muscle flexed. Max went on, “Women don’t treat you like shit. Rhonda does. The women before, they maybe eased those wounds she’s kept open and bleeding for years, but never tried to heal them. You didn’t show them. But Briane probably could. She probably does touch them, even subconsciously. And you want her to. Jason…. You need to set Rhonda straight, once and for all. Cut the line if

you have to. Stop torturing yourself, waiting to hear what she will never say. I love you. Dozens of people love you. She probably does too—in her warped way…” Jason stiffly nodded, not really knowing what to say. He never had known what to say, when talking about his mom. Coy offered, “I severed any communication with mine. She loathes dad, they have a mutual dislike, and Dad could be an asshole, but she didn’t have to punish me for it. She called, but just wanted to rag on him and Ruby. She was like a drain on me, always making me feel responsible for her emotions. I learned after Levi, I couldn’t let people like that in my life. I can’t respect her.” Max told him, “No question that you and Briane need to talk, and need to get real with each other. But you need to tell Rhonda how you feel and what she’s put you through. You need to tell her to stop calling your damn house.” “I will.” Jason watched the women coming back down. Max hugged him, as did Coy, and then they were sitting beside him again. Jason said, releasing out a long held breath, “It’s… like Bri needs a lover, a strong man, but a nurturer too. Yet, I would swear, there is this force in her, this strength, because she has been where she’s been, and she’s had a child. She’s…what you think a woman should be.” “I get that. I feel that about Jordan.” Coy said, “I never put it into words, but Brook is the same. It comes from dealing with how her Dad was, and still is, he’ll never be happy with her married to me, and unfortunately, what I put her through. She’s stronger than I am.” “Well that’s a damn relief.” Jason laughed and stood, effectively lightening the mood. “Hate to think I’m the only bastard, ever gone through this. They chuckled and ribbed each a bit more. Coy saying bluntly he loved being p-whupped. They all knew what that meant. Max rolling his eyes but muttering Jordan could reduce him to a pile of ashes when they made love. The male-macho joking, lasted all too brief however. A green sports car eased off the black top, in front of Mitch’s, behind the Sheriff’s cruiser. The Sheriff got out first, standing and

waiting while a woman exited the driver’s side of the other vehicle. She was in summer slacks and a light cotton blouse, neat figure, about five foot three, with brown hair, shoulder-length cut, and she wore glasses. Jason came to his feet, Max and Coy were too. Something sunk like a dead weight in Jason’s stomach. “Beth Banfield,” he said, his teeth cinched. He swiftly glanced to where the women were walking back down the road—obviously having seen the cars pull over. Coy asked, “You know her?” “Yeah—briefly.” “Oh, shit.” Max stared at him. “Yeah.” Jason nodded, watching them start up the steps toward the house. Before they could walk around it, someone had gone out back and told Mitch, and the rest, that the Sheriff was out front. Max touched his arm, said something Jason didn’t register. He glanced very briefly downwards, to see Brook and the others coming up the hill—particularly he regarded Briane, who was already looking tense and unsmiling. Jason walked around the house, to the back with Coy and Max—getting there just as the Sheriff and Beth came around the other side. No music now, nothing—to mute out the sound of the Sheriff asking Mitch where Jason was. Jason said, “Right here, Mike.” However, his gaze met Beth’s. Her expression was on edge too. Mike Jeffers, the Sheriff, a tall, barrel-chested man, in his late fifties, well liked and respected, looked uncomfortable as hell. Reaching them, aware of a dozen things; GW coming down the hill, the rest of the family either sitting on the picnic table or somewhere, to observe what was going on—Briane and the others reaching the back yard now. Jeffers handed him a piece of paper. “Court order, for a paternity test.” Jason took it, only half hearing Beth beside the Sheriff, say she wanted to talk to Jason privately. After skimming it, his guts tense and his eyes blurring over the date, Jason glanced up when she stepped in front of him, and said, “Over there.” Folding the paper and pointing to a space off from the audience.

His first terse words were, “What the hell is this about?” “A paternity test…DNA tests.” “I gathered that. You know what I mean.” Jason had been working on a job site, in one of the neighboring counties, staying in a hotel, and met her in a restaurant where they had casual talk—Beth was an art teacher at that local middle school. Later, he had ran into her again when the Coburn band was doing a charity event, and he had discovered she was going to be somewhere he was. She had been taking some kind of classes, and he, doing another gig. They had hooked up, spent a weekend together. “I tried to do this another way. I called you a dozen times in the past few weeks. You ignored them. Then you changed your number—I assume deliberately.” “It had nothing to do with you. Hell, Beth, you could have come to my house, any day of the week, instead of showing up with the Sheriff, with my whole damn family here.” “I tried—” “Three-four years, Beth. We had a weekend, years ago. You’ll excuse me if I fucking doubt your sincerity.” “Five years, actually. I was in a different place, financially, emotionally, everything else, then. I didn’t think it would ever come to this. I took responsibility for my actions—” “Actions.” Jason managed between a breath and growl, “You told me you were on the pill.” “I was. But I was on medications….and—” “Jesus Christ.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make an issue out of it, I swear. I honestly never intended—never thought, we’d meet again. I was doing okay with, the baby, Jack. Then I got sick and couldn’t work. Family helped out for awhile, but…” She looked away and then back at him, her eyes watering a bit. “Look, Jason, I’m not this type of woman. Obviously, not your type, and I knew that. I knew when I hooked up with a good-looking singer-musician that weekend—I was fully aware that it wouldn’t mean anything to you. I was fine with that. I was coming out of a break up…” She threw up her hand and let it drop. “Shit, none of that matters. What does is, the cancer is back and…” “Cancer?”

She nodded abrupt. “Ovarian.” Jason felt his guts tense, aware that his Dad and Madeline, and more of the family were clustered over there talking with the sheriff. More aware that Briane was leaning up against the house, arms crossed observing—watching him and Beth talk. The tension in the yard, hell on the whole hillside, was tense and grim. She murmured, “If you want to take this to court, fight it, then someone in my family—likely my aunt, because my parents live in California, but someone will have to be appointed legal guardian to him while I’m at the center getting treatments. They might not work this time either so…” Hoarsely he heard himself say, “I’ll get the test. Where?” “Has to be done at the Semco labs. My lawyer—and yours, if you want to get one, will witness everything.” “Fine.” There eyes held a moment. Jason wanted to resent her. He wanted to go the hell off, because he could almost write the script for what this was going to do to his relationship with Briane—. However, in the moment, and in the truth, he had bedded this woman. Not a type and he’d known it when he took things beyond just fooling around in his truck and booked them a suite for the weekend. He had bedded her; therefore, he couldn’t blame her for everything. She held his gaze, stronger this time, saying gruffly, “This isn’t about money or even about me, Jason. I’d walk through hell and kick the devil’s ass, for my boy. I have nothing, from the medical bills, no savings, and no retirement, nothing left. Nothing— to leave him.” Beth added gruffly, folding her arms in a manner, as if holding herself together. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’ve thought it too. If I could go back, do it the right way—call and tell you, when I suspected. But I had my pride, and all we had was sex, you understand that?” He nodded abrupt. She supplied tensely, “I was on the verge of a new, promising relationship shortly afterwards and I ended that when…. I ended it. I tried to do and be everything I was, when I was well, to Jack. But it’s no better for him to be passed around among relatives, or

there when I was sick…when I can’t do for him.” Jason thought, if he was having this conversation with her anywhere else, at any other time, he would comfort someone like this. He’d have compassion and understanding. He saw her pride. Understood it, though he wished like hell she had told him then— anytime, in the last five years…. He glanced over at the Sheriff and visually skimmed everyone else, seeing Briane was walking toward the back entry— probably going to leave. Glancing back at Beth, he murmured, “If he’s mine, I’ll want joint custody.” She nodded but said, “You should probably—meet him, come see him a few times, so he’s not scared by…” “I will.” He added, “I’ll see to him financially and we’ll discuss anything else, when the time comes.” “All right.” He started to walk off, wanting to get to Briane and explain, but turned back a moment, as she was intending to go back to where the Sheriff was. Jason told her, “Get my cell number from dad; he’s the guy over there talking to the Sheriff. Sunny Lightfoot will probably represent me. I’ll make sure he gets your lawyer’s number. But let’s make something plain—If Jack is my blood, there won’t be anyone else getting custody.” She nodded. “If anything…happens. And if the joint custody has to be changed to sole, my parents….will still want to see him…” “Yes, of course.” Beth scanned his face. “I said that I wouldn’t care if you hated me, so long as someone would be there for Jack…But I hope you…don’t.” “—It’s too late to do anything over, Beth. There’s no point in regret and resentment.” He shrugged. “Let’s get the truth and proof done, and then we’ll talk.” “All right.” He knew he should have said more, but Jason turned and strode toward the house, passing his Dad and Mike Jeffers. He said to Mitch, “Give her our phone numbers, and get in touch with Sunny for me. I’ll talk with you about it as soon as I explain to Briane…”

“Sure.” Mitch nodded, a nerve ticking in his own jaw. Jason strode through the back door, going through the house and emerging on the porch, just in time to peer over and see Brook and Madeline hurrying to Briane. Heading toward the steps, he could hear Madeline say, “Please don’t leave. Wait. Let’s just find out what’s going on.” Brook said, “Just give him a chance to expl—” Jason was a step up from Briane, when she replied, “I heard enough to piece it together. Really, I can’t do this. I—I’ll call you, Brook.” “Briane, wait!” Brook and Madeline parted to let Jason by when he called that, trying to catch up with Briane as she hurried toward her car. He muttered a curse because she kept walking. She was in the driver’s side by the time he reached her. Standing by the door, Jason put his hands where the window was rolled down, watching her put on the seat belt then start the engine. “Briane. Let me explain—” “I have to go.” She didn’t look at him. “She’s someone I was with years ago. Five years ago. I—it was a weekend.” She looked tense and closed her eyes a second, “I really don’t want to hear about it, Jason.” He watched her put the car in gear and growled, “Is this fucking fair? I’m supposed to anticipate someone showing up out of the blue and—” She turned to stare at him, turning the wheels to pull out on the road. Her eyes were damp as she retorted gruffly, “Yeah, pick a number, guys, like you, should, Jason. You shag everything in six counties without a blink, go on having your good time with the next girl, you freckling should.” Her body lifted as she drew a breath in her nose, anger and more in her expression. “I knew this would happen...” “What? I never claimed to be celibate. It’s not as if I was in a relationship with her, or will be—” “You should. If you fathered a child on her, you bloody well should care something for her.” She was pulling out then, so he had to step back, but he called out, “Don’t do this, Bri. Don’t leave like this.”

The car stopped with a jerk, she backed up the short distance and glared up at him. “I should listen to you explain how you picked her up somewhere and had casual sex with her?” Her brow arched. “She’s not a type, Jason. I don’t have to talk to you, or her, to see she’s probably a decent woman, probably nice, and she just did what other women do when you turn on your charm— she’s the frecking B, you never listed in your phone.” Oh. God, his world spun. “Two adults can mutually decide to have sex, Bri. That’s what it was. But it’s not like that for me and you.” “Yeah, well. I’m going, because I can’t be objective right now. And you’ve potentially got some legal issues to deal with.” Jason’s jaw muscle flexed. “If he’s mine, I’ll file for joint custody and take care of him. Does that make me a prick?” “No. It’s not that. I would expect you to take care of him.” Her gaze turned away. “Let me go, Jason. You need to work all of this out.” “Bri. There’s no reason for this to effect our relationship…” “It’s not the child, if it’s yours, Jason. I have a son of my own.” Her tone was softer, still upset, but less cold and more emotional, “It’s how you got him, though you assume you were (safe) with all those women, and your (having) them all so casually—It…” “—that’s not me now, Briane. It’s not us, dammit. You’re the only woman I want to be with.” “I can’t hear it today.” She drove on. Jason stood there, in the road, watching her car until he couldn’t see it. By the time he turned, the Sheriff was getting in his car and did so, then pulling out. Beth stopped, having pulled out behind the cruiser. She looked at him. “Was that your girlfriend?” “Was.” He was not in a polite mood. “You want me to—” “No.” He shook his head slowly, meaningfully at her. “Let’s just get this all settled.” She reached beside her in the seat and got something, extending it out to him. Jason took it. “That’s his pre-school picture. He’s grown a bit since then.” It took less than a second of eyeing that face, for him to

murmur, “After we’re done at the clinic, we’ll meet with the lawyers somewhere.” “Okay.” He glanced up from the photo, their eyes holding. Both of them knowing Jack had Coburn written all over him. She eventually smiled short, regretful, and pulled out. Jason carried that picture up the steps, and on the porch, where his Dad, GW, Max, and the adults where. He handed it to Mitch. His dad skimmed it as quickly as he had and met his eyes. Jason held it, and then glanced at Max. “Stick around.” Max nodded. Eventually, everyone else left. He and his Dad and Max were in the den with coffee, awaiting Sunny. Madeline went with Jordan and the kids, to their house, to give the men time to talk and make decisions, and for Sunny to give advice on the details and legal end. By Monday noon, the test had been done, witnessed, and Jason Coburn had been put on Jack Banfield’s new birth certificate as his father. **** Madeline and Mitch sat on the porch, Mitch, in a rocking chair, staring over at his farmhouse, and Madeline in the swing. It had been quite a couple of days…. “She’s your grandchild’s mother. We have to help her out.” Mitch nodded. “Absolutely.” Sighing, Madeline looked down the road too, but also up at Jason’s house, which she could scarcely see through the tall pines. “Cancer is a dreadful enemy.” After a silence, Mitch murmured, “As much of a mess as all of this is, I have to admit, I’m surprised something like this didn’t happen before. For all Jason is and was responsible, he was juggling too many women these last few years.” He raked a hand through his hair and propped his boots on the banisters. “The circumstances were different with us…and Max, and me…” Mitch looked at her swiftly. “Not the same at all, Madeline. We loved each other.” She winced. All that love was in her eyes as she studied his

face. It had been a rough year on Mitch. Though he was a rock, the backbone of the clan, in many respects, having or rather taking on that role and responsibility, could take its toll. Not just family and their problems, but his business and the men he used to provide jobs for. He’d have his contracting license, would find work when he could—like for Kiera’s Catering, and bring people in on the job when possible. However, Jason—was his son. She alone knew how worried Mitch was about his restlessness. She knew Mitch cried—yes, he had slipped out of bed a few times. She’d find him barefoot, sitting on the steps outside, tears glistening on his face. He hated what Rhonda put Jason through. He worried that his mistakes with handling that bad marriage somehow affected Jason’s ability to commit. Now, when they’d both easily come to care for Briane, when it was obvious that Jason fell fast and hard for her, this…was no easy situation. There wasn’t an effortless answer, because Coburn’s took care of their own. Nevertheless, for all they were tough, for all the opinions many of them had about Beth Banfield keeping a child a secret, she was a woman who had birthed a Coburn, one battling a disease that could take her life. Mitch said softly, “I stayed with Rhonda because Jason had been born. I thought it was the right thing to do. And it probably wasn’t.” “I know you, my love, and I think I know Jason pretty well. You’ve given him love, support, advice, tried to be here for him while he was figuring out what made him so crazy with Briane.” She smiled slightly, and sadly. “But being a decent man, once he gets over the resentment of Beth not telling him, he’s going to do what he thinks is right by her. I hate this for him, because he’s crazy in love with Briane. I think she feels the same. But it happened fast between them….” Mitch nodded and slid his feet down, coming over to sit by her. He put his arm around her and pulled her against his side. His lips grazing her hair, he murmured, “I hate to see him hurt.” “I know, love.” She rubbed his thigh. “Maybe it will work out.” Rocking the swing a bit, he lifted his head and looked across the porch. “He’s feeling out of his skin happy, to be a Daddy.”

“I could tell, once it sunk in.,” She laughed. Then, “It’s complicated, but this family is good at working through that.” Raising her head from his shoulder, Madeline took a breath and released it. “We’ll be here for him, like we always are. We just have to hope that whatever decisions and choices he makes, are ones he can find peace with.” Mitch agreed. “That’s the hard part of when your children grow up to become their own women and men.” “Amen.” She muttered. “You should probably call her, Beth. And somehow, we’ve got to let Briane know that whatever she and Jason have to work through, we’re still here for her, and we care for her.” “I love you.” Madeline turned and looked into his light blue eyes. He grinned. “Love you too.” Then said, “Guess we better convert that guest room finally. All these grandkids.” “After the 4th,” she agreed. Rubbing her hand up his thigh, their eyes holding she murmured, “I’ve got a couple of hours before I go in for a shift at the Tavern…” Mitch grinned wider and got up, holding her hand. “Let’s go get necked then.” Laughing, they went in, locking the front door and walking to their bedroom. Once there, Mitch grabbed her before she could undo her blouse and pulled her down on the bed, his body over hers. After kissing her breathless, he husked deeply, “This was all we ever wanted for our kids. This love. This passion. This needing someone, body and soul…” Hands gliding under his T-shirt Madeline returned, “Believing in it sustained us. It’s not a connection time or any force on earth can ever sever….” “No.” He cupped her cheek, his eyes gazing deep into hers. “No force on earth is as powerful…”

Chapter14 The talk and gossip was all over town. Someone who worked at the lab, and someone else who worked at the courthouse— apparently told a girl at the beauty shop—that Jason Coburn knocked up a teacher from the next county, five years ago…The woman had cancer once before that went into remission, but she was seen at the treatment center, by a cousin of Mrs. Thurmond, who worked at the StopNshop right next to it…. The good-looking, good-time, bass singer of the Coburn group, the same guy who had left a lot of women smiling, and not a few of them sighing in regret, was finally having to pay the piper. Town talk was rampant; therefore, gossip in the Tavern was rampant too. Briane worked her shifts, having a quiet chat with Nick in the back, before the Tavern opened, about the gossip—he, of course, hearing the facts from Ruby. “Most people like the Coburn’s. Some begrudgingly, because many people in Diamond Back consider themselves a step above Copper Creek. Nevertheless, decent folks grew up around them, love their music, and love them. There were some resentments over the years. The Coburn’s, not being the type to take shit or back down from a challenge, and some, including my brother in law Jude, raised plenty of hell— There’s going to be talk. The Coburn’s were always something of a powerful family, not because of the number of them, but because of the land they own, the businesses, and they have fame in the way a generational, musical family does. They’re tough. When they have troubles and problems, they handle them the way they see fit.” Briane nodded, her hands around the cup he’d poured full of coffee for her. “Gossip goes round, no matter where you live.” Nick’s brown eyes were watching her face. “Some people witnessed him singing to you here, saw y’all dancing, and several hundred were witness to the connection you two obviously had during the opening show at the Mill. Women will be catty and make a point of stopping in here…” Briane looked up at the ceiling. “Great.” When she looked down at him, he reached over and took her

hand. “I don’t know any more than Ruby does, and all she knows is that Jason’s going to Beth’s, to meet Jack, before they work out all the details. But I do know Jason Coburn, and I’ve seen him play the field, as any single guy with good-looks and popularity will, until he finds the right one—and I swear to you, Briane—You were it.” Briane squeezed his hand in thanks, but told him. “You can’t really help what you feel when it’s that…intense. But this changes things. It’s not so simple…” Nick moved his hand and sipped, before he murmured, “True. But give him time to work through the shock, and the complexities…” She sat up, elbows on the table. “It doesn’t really have anything to do with me, not much right now, Nick. It’s not about what I want. Not really about, what he wants, either. However, I’ll tell you this, my feelings for him and our relationship, can’t sidetrack me. I made a commitment and I have a band, performances. I also have another life, the one I came here to start. A son—whom I need to go see soon, who someday will live, at least part of the time, with me. I have to be stable and grounded. I can’t go back to where I was.” “I get that.” After a moment, Nick sat much the way she did, his gaze on her again. “Ruby and I grew up in a home where our parent’s were emotionally absent. I blamed my drug habit on that, for a while, but the truth is, I fell into the whole trap. I was successful, rich, living the life. I bought into the trappings, penthouse apartment, sports cars, and parties. To keep up, I got into the coke. It was a high-pressure world, with lots of fringe benefits. Nevertheless, the woman I had married, I’d really honestly loved. I married her right out of college, and though she was glad for my success, she wanted all the simple, traditional, things, house, kids, and family life in the burbs. I kept promising her that, but the other world got hold of me. It takes a lot of energy to lie, to live a duel life. When you are caught up in the faux, materialistic world, your success makes you completely narcissistic. Not until I hit rock bottom, and trust me, rock bottom for me was far far down from where it is for most people. Not until then, did I see what havoc I had wrecked. I took a trusting, loving, normal, beautiful woman, inside and out—and I devastated her. Lied so much, told her she was paranoid when

she accused me of everything I was doing. Wasn’t kind or nice to her when I was in my, I’m rich and successful and can do what I want stage. Long story short, it took her taking her life—for me to come crashing down, and realize what I was and what I’d done.” “Nick. I’m sorry.” He nodded. “… I owed people dealers. I’d done some unethical things that…” He sighed. “Shit kept piling up. I had a breakdown eventually. However, I still had to see, sober—see what I had done. What is more, what price she had paid for simply loving me. Everything I lost was nothing compared to a life, hers— a more worthy, loving and decent one. I loathed myself. I still struggle with accepting happiness. Hell, accepting life and a second chance.” Briane looked over his handsome face. “You’ve never told anyone that?” “Not even my sister, Ruby.” She sighed and reached for his hand this time. “I felt that too, when I got on the right road, after Adam’s death, and my self destructive stage. That’s why, what I do now matters. I’m twentyeight. Liam will be eleven this birthday. I can’t muck up anymore. There’s no more rehearsal for a woman my age.” “Everyone respects that.” He agreed when she slid her hand back. “But, Briane. Don’t take love for granted. Don’t throw it away casually. If what you and Jason have can’t be, then you at least need to talk to him, and the both of you need to understand where the other person stands.” “I know.” Soon, Nick was at the bar and Briane waited tables. Two of the other guys worked with her. Though her former light-hearted joy in it was harder to find, Briane did ignore the whispers and talk, and the pointed looks from some of the patrons—she put it out of her mind like she did where Jason was, and what he was doing, at least for the hours she was at work. As the week wore on, Briane didn’t sleep well, couldn’t. Working and the music though, had to fill in the spaces that thoughts of Jason tried to creep into. She got calls from Brook, and even two from Madeline. A few of the Coburn’s stopped by Sunny’s for a drink. She knew that they were keeping that connection. Briane knew too, that they genuinely

cared for her. She also got that they were keeping that connection for Jason’s benefit also—. She loved them for it. However, in its own way, it was hell. It was gut cinching—because she understood Jason’s choices, his why, not just responsibility. But his choices, because of Beth’s cancer. She felt ashamed for feeling selfish and crying too much. At rehearsal that week, one of the band members mentioned Jason and She supplied, “He’s doing the right thing.” Before they stepped back out on the deck, James had murmured, “Any of us are here for you to talk to. We go through shit of our own. Wives, girlfriends, whatever…” “Thanks.” She touched his arm. “I’ll be fine.” They rehearsed, anything but love songs. That Friday’s show, the tavern filled to capacity, many Coburn’s there, and it was upbeat and good-times. It was only in the empty parking lot, in the dark, she’d sat and bawled her eyes out.

Chapter 15 Jason was surprised at how nervous he was, the morning he went to meet Jack—his son. He first had on dress slacks and a silk shirt, but changed those for dark, hip denims and a more sporty white cotton summer shirt, casual leather shoes. His sunglasses slid up on his head, he went out and got in his truck, taking the hour drive in a blur of internal thoughts. Foremost in his mind was a call he had answered from Rhonda that morning. It was not easy, because she was his mom and he had spent so many years, somewhere in his mind, in desperation maybe, making excuses for the way she was toward him. However, this morning, Jason didn’t let her get anything said. He told her bluntly, what he had expected, wanted from her, and what she had never given him. He had ended the call by saying, “If you’re capable of loving me for what and who I am, then do it. I am through listening to your calls, your insults, judgments, and your delusions. I won’t answer again. Get yourself some help, mother. Find a good relationship where you have to give and not just take. You never respect the men you choose because you can control them. You don’t even respect yourself. This is my life—I have other things happening in it that I won’t bother sharing with you, because you freaking never ask. I will not let you drain me with all the shit you usually pull with these calls, anymore. I’m done with it. If you get yourself together, we’ll talk. Until then, don’t call here again.” Jason had hung up—and felt like puking. Nevertheless, he felt free too. Shit. He had too much on his plate to be dealing with something he should have put an end to years ago. Max was right. It was long overdue. Beth’s house, when he arrived at the address, was a modest ranch style, with a small front, side, and back lot. It looked like a working-class neighborhood, nice, neat, lots of kids in front lawns playing or on scooters, going up and down the sidewalk. Parking by the curb, he got some things from the seat, got out and went up to the door, knocking once before she answered. Glasses in her hand, Beth looked like she had been busy at something, but smiled at him and waved; “Come in.” she wore black exercise pants and a matching top, with an Addis logo, and

white sneakers. Her hair was clipped up at the back of her head. Jason stepped inside the open room, one that showed a dining room connected, that was indeed cluttered with papers and books. However, his gaze swiftly came back to the boy sitting on a chair, facing both the entry and the TV. “This is Jack.” He followed Beth, watching the boy stand. In shorts, sneakers and T-shirt, the husky kid’s brown eyes, was all the difference there was between him and Jason at that age. Tall, summer tanned, with a head full of wavy black hair, very nice looking kid. “Jack—this is Jason Coburn.” Jason went forward, offering his hand, their eyes taking each other in. The furnishings in the room were worn to comfort and durable. There was a video game system, under the TV shelf, and lots of movies on the far wall in a rack, books too, and it looked like Jack had been doing some reading—a comic lay by his chair. “Hi.” “Hi.” Jack looked a little flushed. “You’re my Dad.” “Yeah.” Jason felt his knees go a little weak, his head a bit light. It had sunk in, but wow. This was his boy, in the flesh. The boy dropped his hand after shaking it firmly and Jason took a seat on the settee facing his chair. “I brought something.” He handed him the photo album he’d put together. “That’s pictures of me growing up, and my family. My stepmother, Madeline, is in there more than my birth mom. Long story. But I labeled them, so you’d know who was who. We’re a large clan” Jack took it and opened it. Passing behind the settee, Beth said, “I’ll be in the dining room.” Jason glanced over his shoulder and nodded, then told the boy, “Come sit over here, we’ll look at it together, but it’s yours to keep.” “Thanks.” Jack came and sat beside him, resting half the album on his thigh. Though they talked, Jason pointing out things, explaining the complicated marriage, step and cousin, connections—and what was going on in the photos, he often just listened to Jack, and looked at him. Sometimes, catching the boy doing the same.

It was emotional, unexpectedly. He had felt all those normal things after the blood tests, excitement, surrealism, fear, nervousness. But being here, a son of his flesh and blood, sitting beside him—one who looked like him, like Mitch and Max—like a Coburn—Just being this close to him, Jason wanted to hug him. Jack was interested in everything, the houses, the animals, the people, and the music. The photo album had pictures of his great great grandparents, playing instruments. At one point, Jason asked, “Do you play?” “Piano. Since I was three.” The boy looked past him, toward the table, smiling and showing a bit of sadness. “Mom and me both play. But she only taught me a little, and then got me lessons. She’s better at art than music.” Jason turned to find a similar sad smile on Beth’s face, though she was obviously trying not to show it. It reminded him that she had already battled cancer once, and was going to face it again. It struck home to him, that she might be facing death. “It’s great that you two share that. It’s something special.” “Yeah.” Jack looked back at the pictures. Jason held Beth’s eyes a bit longer. She finally looked away, back down at whatever she was writing, and sliding her glasses on. Two hours passed before Jack got up and told him, “I’ll put this on my bed. I have to go down to Mrs. Collins house. I walk her dogs in the corner park for her.” “Sure.” Jason stood. The album under his arm, Jack paused, “When will I meet them? The family.” “Whenever you want.” Jason smiled. “This Sunday?” “Yeah.” Jack looked toward Beth and Jason did too, seeing her nod. Jason told him. “I’ll pick you up around noon.” After he left, Jason walked over to the table. His keen eyes noting that most of it was covered with medical bills, before Beth slid a notebook over a stack of them. She got to her feet. “Coffee?” “Thanks.” He nodded and followed her to a small back kitchen. He took a seat at a farmhouse table, watching her prepare it, and then glancing out a window there, seeing the guy next door

cranking up his mower, noticing in the side yard was a bike and other toys likely belonging to Jack. He’d have to buy some for Jack to have at his house…. The scent of coffee came. Beth placed a mug before him, joining him. Jason looked at her. Her face was attractive, but strained with the kind of worry and anxiety that didn’t just go away. Her eyes held a pain—perhaps the memory, and dread, of the chemo. Perhaps, trying to accept the worst. He didn’t know. He’d, sometime in the past two weeks, gotten past all the knee-jerk shock and whatever else had initially came he’d seen Beth’s situation, from her point of view. Though part him wished she’d told him five years earlier, he was in the now, dealing with now, and so was she. Her situation was dire, sad, frightening, and Max and his dad both helped him come to see more of what she was dealing with. The past didn’t matter, really. Palms on his cup, his eyes going over her profile when she had turned to gaze out the window—gazing lost in thought, Jason said quietly, “I want to help, with your medical bills.” “No. Jason, this wasn’t about that.” She turned to regard him, and then dropped her eyes to her cup, shaking her head, no. again “Your parents…can they…” Beth drew in a breath. “They are down to earth, were working class people. Dad drove a rig, and mom taught school. Both retired now, they’ve their own medical problems—which is why they can’t travel. They wanted to be with me, when….when I went through this, before. But Dad’s on oxygen and had three back surgeries and Mom…” She looked up at him. “I’ve told my lawyer, to sell this house if—if I don’t make it….” “Beth.” He felt his stomach drop out. “No.” She raised her head, a raw pain in her eyes. “Let’s talk about this, while Jack isn’t here. I start the treatments next week, and may be more at the center than here. When I’m here, I’ll be dog sick, so you may have Jack more often than not.” Her palms flattened on the table, she said, “I’ve my car and this house, and that will be sold as well as any furnishings.” Jason cut in, “You’ve supported him for five years on your own, on a teachers pay, and I know what they make, because we’ve got a dozen in the family. At least let me do something.” He

admitted, “I know my first reaction wasn’t cool. Hell, when it comes down to it, whatever we did that weekend, I obviously didn’t leave you with the impression that you could confide in me. I’ve been avoiding any…previous attachments. If this turns worse for you, I’ll be here. I want to be.” “Shit.” She bent her arms, elbows on the table and for a moment, her head rested in her hands. He guessed. “Whatever your Aunt is to you, Beth, she obviously can’t help out much…” “It’s my fault. I got this—I can do it on my own—attitude. Not dragging people down, not dragging them—into my problems, thing.” Beth raised her chin, hands dragging down from her face. She stared at him. “I do have a small family, no siblings, just my aunt…who is mostly on-the-phone support, again because I insist. Jack, he’s seen me sick and it scared him. But he acts brave. I’ve got to prepare him…” “Think positive.” Beth sat back, hands around her cup. “I can’t afford to. I have to prepare for the worst.” Jason felt for her, really, he did. “You need someone here, for when you’re sick…” “No Jason. Not you.” He reached over and touched her hand, watched her stare at it. He wondered how long it had been since she’d allowed anyone to touch her. Softly, gently, he suggested, “Let’s just do this, Beth. When you’re having treatments, I’ll have Jack with me. And when you have him, I’ll come by, see that you have what you need, and check on you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You have a girlfriend, who hopefully doesn’t hate me—” “—I made Jack with you. Knowingly, or not. You carried him and cared for him. I will see you through this, Beth. I promise.” She started crying. Jason got up and went to her, pulling her from the chair, and holding her, comforting, and letting her cry out things he could not even imagine she was feeling, on his shoulder. As she did that, Jason came to several realizations about himself, his life, and the things being a Coburn meant. When he

met Briane, felt what he had, he’d assumed he’d been learning the harder lessons, and learning all about regret and selflessness. He’d had no idea—until now, that he wasn’t even half way down that road yet. Later, as Jason pulled out, he ached to his very soul for Briane, to talk to, to hold, and to simply be with her. Turning the corner and heading to the main road, he saw Jack, standing in a small park with two little dogs on leashes. He blew his horn, Jack waved… Jason felt his eyes watering. On the interstate, happy— anxious and worried all swirling in him. He would pray for Beth. She was a young woman, a young mother, and she’d faced a lot on her own—by choice or not. If the chemo or surgery didn’t work, she’d have to tell Jack. Then there would be other issues to work out, grimmer, sadder things…to deal with. Shuddering out a sigh, Jason hardly saw the road ahead and all the traffic. Just because it was in the past, they had something brief five years ago, didn’t mean he was free to walk away from Beth completely. She needed someone. And for his boy, for Jack, because Jack loved her, knew her as his Mommy—Jason would never be able to live with himself, or excuse it to Jack someday, if he didn’t do something more… **** Briane’s phone had a dozen voice messages from Jason— explaining that he’d been dropping by to check on Beth, because she was doing chemo treatments, or that he had Jack that or he was running errands. Always, always, telling her to call him. A couple of times telling her he had an hour free and wanted to come by and talk. Briane couldn’t. She understood what he was doing. In the abstract, she applauded his being a decent person. Shit. She even cried for Beth—a woman that young, going through that. And for the boy. She was not some heartless bitch. But anything they had, herself and Jason, would have to be put on hold for however long. Who knew, he could really have feelings for Beth. Certainly, he must. The woman had his son. This was Jason’s responsibilities, his choices, something he had to deal with. There was something in his voice…during one of the voice

mails. He had said softly, “If the worst comes and the treatments don’t work...” and Briane had thought—then you will be dealing with a child in grief, harder things. Being human, Briane wrestled with taking that occasional hour with him, a lunch he was free, or time between work and doing a show….talking to him on the phone. As she told Madeline and Brook, she had to let Jason straighten out his past, and get a grip on his present. She missed him. Missed, everything about him. He had neither the time nor the energy, or the emotion, for something as intense as they were together. And too, in the back of Briane’s mind, in her deeper fears and insecurities, her—I may have made a mistake—she wanted the severing to be done—if— he chose, to have something more, with the woman who had his child.. Brook called her mid week. “Girl’s night is still on, no more excuses.” “I thought Jordan was leaving?” “She did and flew back. We are all going to do dinner to celebrate the Clinic opening—and you’re invited, it will be at Rafe’s. About girl’s night…C’mon. We need this. You—need this.” “All right. Pick me up, I’ll be ready.” “Will do. And Bri?” “Yeah?” “It was real, with you and Jason. We all saw it. Hang in there babe. Please.” “Brook. I love you. But this is….difficult. It is on Jason too. He’s at no place now to have a relationship with me, whether he will admit it to himself or not. Everything with us, even before this, wasn’t easy or perfect. We would give in and it was good, beyond mind blowing. One moment we were close, and it’ was right. Nevertheless, we both had our issues. Now, everything is fecked up.” “I get that. Finding out about Jack threw Jason. You can understand that?” “Of course. I told you, I understand.” “It makes it all so complicated for him, Briane, because of Beth’s illness, too. “ “Anyone with an ounce of compassion would understand his actions. I’m not punishing him. “

“I understand.” “I don’t know, Brook. I just don’t, right now.” Briane felt like crying but suppressed it. “K-girl. It’s complicated. See you on Friday. You need a break. I’m just reminding you too—that Mom and Mitch still want you to come over on Sundays. Everyone loves you, Briane. What you and Jason are going through….” “Yeah. I don’t run away anymore. I just need to…absorb it all.” “That’s what everyone is doing. Jack is lovable. But even Jason is adjusting—.” “I know that.” “Good. See you. Love you.” “You too.” **** Kiera arrived at the white-frame house, just after the crew left. Mitch was serving as contractor and had hired some of his old crew to do the renovations. They were coming along swiftly. Today however, she didn’t go to the kitchens. Plastic sheeting was hung between it and the main rooms to keep dust down. She headed up the stairs and to the master suite. Setting her shopping bags down, she let her gaze take in the gleaming wood floors, the long fluttering white curtains on the walls, and that lovely huge brass bed that graced the center of the room. The bedding was white and champagne, a mix of supple cotton and satins, a fuzzy rug on the side of it, and thus far only a wardrobe in the corner... Going into the bath, Kiera loved the fact that the previous owner had kept the original features when upgrading. It had a huge claw foot tub, two antique sinks, and long freestanding mirrors. past the toilet was a shower with bench seats, and there was an old fashioned dressing area, a place to put powders and perfumes, and hang lingerie and robes, an iron backed chair from the 30’s slid under a built in vanity that had to come out of a theater dressing room. It was all a lovely white and deep rose hue. Kiera took off her jacket and skirt, her heels, before padding back in for her bags. As she reentered and began to strip, Kiera thought about the meetings she had had with the divorced woman and younger man, who would work with her. It was luck, sheer luck and a big blessing that they had crossed her path. The woman had

worked at a bakery, the pastry and cake decorating before retiring to raise her family. Divorce happened; she had two girls in college, single mother having gone back to the job market…great for Kiera. The young man was fresh out of culinary school, creative, eager, great personality—and handsome enough to please clients as well as talented. She had two more interviews next week. Stripped, changed into the teal and ivory lace demi bra and garter-stockings she had bought. Kiera drew on a white silk short robe and went down to the mini fridge, taking out a bottle of wine. Back in the bedroom, Kiera opened it, and poured one of the new crystal glasses full. She had pushed back the curtains and was seated on the now padded loveseat when Rafe entered. He had both hands full of flowers, fragrant and beautiful bouquets in vases. His dark gaze went to her. He stood still, viewing her long shapely legs in the stockings, then up her body in the half-parted robe to her face. “How long have you got?” “Until I pick up Mora from summer school. Three hours.” Rafe grinned sensually. “I’m on my lunch hour, but I’m the owner and boss, so….” She smiled, still a little shy—though he’d made love to her so well in that antique bed on Monday, she’d cried and moaned—and had her mind blown. She’d burned hot enough to melt into the mattress because Rafe kissed and laved nearly every inch of her body—and used every inch of his when making love to her. Rafe put the vases by the other long windows. As he walked over to help himself to wine, she noticed he wore a deep red shirt with burnt orange minute stripes, a pair of slacks that showed off his firm backside. He always dressed nice. Rafe joined her, sitting against the side, taking a long sip of wine before setting it in the window niche. His bangs slid sexily over his brow when he leaned forward and pulled the robe belt. The silky material parted completely. Kiera felt her skin come alive; hoping that what she saw so flattering in the mirror was what he saw too. The demi bra pushed her ivory breasts up, the hue of the lace and silk made her skin glow, and the garter belt, riding low on her hips, enhanced the

inward curve of her waist, and the thankfully toned shape of her hips and backside. The stockings were part wicked, part innocent, and the thongs were not much but thin lace. Rafael looked her over, raised his eyes and murmured, “You’re beautiful.” “Thank you.” Standing, Rafael undid his shirt, took it off, doing it slowly, conscious she thought, of her eyes on him now, and probably recalling how she’d touched him in bed, how she’d wanted to see all of his body—then viewing it, had told him he was perfect, so dark and smooth and yet muscular. She loved watching him then, and now, letting her eyes trace the mounds and hollows, eyeing that line of hair below his navel. He removed his shoes, his socks, and then the trousers. His hips and buttocks were taut, like his abs and chest. He took care of his body, honed it, and being blessed with the warm skin tone, having truly the most beautiful cock she could imagine, Kiera was flushed and turned on long before he reached out and took her hand. They stood, kissed softly, erotically, then Rafe drew off the robe, let it fall, while his heated skin seared her. His scent drove her crazy. Rafe’s dark eyes too had a way of melting her bones. On tiptoes, her hands on his back, she caught his sensual bottom lip with her teeth, feeling his palms on her ass. He breathed in her ear, “I missed seeing you this week.” “You too. I kept replaying Monday in my head.” “Um. I did too.” Kiera smiled and leaned back to look up at him. “I was a bit… overly excited.” “Not at all. You were perfect. You came three times.” Blushing, she rolled her eyes. “You were keeping count?” “Flattered. Although, I admit, watching you touch yourself that last time with me inside you, I was near to exploding.” “I just…lost myself. Forgot everything but how you felt.” Rafe shook his head, his lips holding a half smile but his dark eyes saying much more. “You excite me.” “Do I even have to tell you…?” Rafe laughed silkily and rubbed her ass, then slid those hands up to her shoulders. “Monday was hot and sweet, today…

spicy.” “I’m yours.” Her gray eyes held his. “I’m wet already.” “Oh, woman…” He kissed her hard, and held her tightly a moment, and then caressed her breast, down her front, and worked his fingers under the thong. “I want to ride you hard, and hold you gently at the same time.” Her heartbeat sped. Kiera stepped back and undid the bra, her gaze on his face. “Take me. You can hold me afterwards.” Rafe muttered something husky, his hands filling with her breasts while he kissed her. Then he became a storm of passionate possession. Kiera clung to his shoulders while he laved and bit her neck, suckled her nipples, and went to his knees and pulled aside the lace to tongue her. Trembling, she begged a little. He worked her panties off, but stood, his hand a bit firmer on her backside, his eyes darker. “Turn around.” She did, grasping the window ledge, slightly bent over. He slid his palm over her hip slow but firm, and then between her legs to rub between the curls. Her soft moan seemed much louder. Her legs parted. Then the heat of his sex was there, his knees bending as he entered her. “Rafe!” “Yes. That’s it, move on me.” He braced a hand near hers, his other teasing her in front while he pushed up with her grinding down. It was hot, tight, and they did a lot of whispering, moaning, before he leaned back and held her hips, surging hard and fast several times. “I can’t take it. I can’t.” Kiera felt mindless with lust and pleasure, totally out of control again. “You can, babe. Take me.” “Oh. God.” She did feel him, surging, stroking, deep, hard, and faster. When he touched her clit again, she was climaxing with grit teeth and his name sounding in her throat. Panting, having to rest her knee on the window seat, Kiera shivered and murmured, “I can’t believe how that feels. You burn right through me.” Rafe eased out of her and sat on the window seat, bringing her to sit facing him, her knees by his thighs. His head back, eyes on her face, Rafe murmured, “You’re

beautiful when you come. Your body, your face, and your eyes get that lost in bliss look. But I don’t even have to be looking at you, I feel it in your body…” She leaned down and kissed him, her breath escalating again. “Let me take you…where I’ve been.” Sitting tighter down on him, his sex snug inside, she began to lift and lower, to move back and forwards—then taking him hard and feverishly, until his eyes closed, veins filling in his sinewy throat, and he came, hands holding her breasts and hips lifting to stay deep. An hour later, they lay on the bed, another glass of wine consumed, and Kiera admiring his backside, the lines of his masculine body, even in repose, the grace and virility in him. Rafe lay on his stomach and she on her side, Kiera’s fingers tracing his spine softly after having finger combed his hair. The rich black stuff was silky and cool. “When I move in, I’d love to have you here for a night. To sleep with you, wake with you.” Rafe turned his head, his eyes quiet on her. “I’d have to spend more time, with Mora around, for her to be okay with that.” “Um.” Kiera nodded. “Will you do that? Her room is ready and we’ve the private sitting room…should be a week or so...” “Yes.” He leaned up on his elbows. “How about we take a night a week, take her to a movie or something and when I’m off early, to the park?” “She’d love that.” Kiera smiled easily distracted by shifting muscles and his ass again. “She likes you. She thinks you’re ever so handsome, loves your restaurant…and the fact you play soccer.” Rafe laughed. “I think she’s a wonderful little girl, too. Kiera, Quedero …You get me hot when you look at me like that.” “Should I apologize?” “No.” He released a breath and pushed her to her back, leaning over her. “How about you?” Kiera did not know she would, but she blurt softly, “I don’t just like everything about you. I’m half way in love with you.” Rafe didn’t freak out, didn’t laugh at her. In fact, his eyes were very gentle brown. His hand came to touch her cheek. “You aren’t a woman who says what she doesn’t feel.” “No.” She bit her lip.

“This is new, for you, the sexual, discovering this part of yourself .the intimacy. Kiera, we need to spend time together with Mora—with us, as a couple.” “I shouldn’t have said that—.” She winced and looked away, wondering where it had come from? And the nerve, to say it. She moved his hand from her, intending to sit up and get her robe. Rafe stopped her, snuggling her so they were chest to chest, his voice husky, thicker accented, “Why did you—say it?” “Because you’re all I think about. We have established that we work well together. But I think—about everything, your pain and loss, true. My bad experiences, fears I still have, doubts you might. I still want to be with you, not just like this but talking, laughing—you make me laugh. When I think of you like this. I want to melt into you, I want you as close to me…” Kiera felt her eyes sting and wished they would not. “Because I want… to love you. I don’t know how else to say it. It’s emotional for me, not just physical.” Before he could comment, she whispered, “You’ve met expectations I didn’t even know I had, on every level, professional, intimately—you’ve given much you probably don’t even realize because you’re you. I don’t ever want you to think you have to do or be more, than what we have. You make me happy. You satisfy me. Right now, right here, today, you have taken me to another level of awareness, of myself. You bring out things in me that amaze me. I’ve done nothing for years but feel guilty or afraid…I don’t know.” She touched his lips, his chin, his chest, with her fingertips. “And everything I’m discovering and feeling—will make me a better woman, better example for Mora.” When Kiera fell silent, Rafael closed his eyes, taking her hand, kissing her fingers. Then his cheek rested against hers a moment. He finally said hoarsely, “Dios. I don’t know what to say. You’ve humbled me.” “I don’t want to—” “Shhh. Don’t.” He raised his head, his eyes searching hers. “You move me, Kiera. You say and do the most unexpected things. You are easy to desire, to admire, to give to. Yet, you think it is some extraordinary thing I do. But it’s the simplest of things.” He rose to brace his weight and murmured, “We’ll talk more. Time is slipping away. What do you need? I give it with pleasure.” “Just kiss me. Next time, I want to…give you pleasure.”

He arched his brow. Kiera laughed. Shy again. Rafe leaned his head back to take in that fascinating combination. He lowered it, and went in for the kiss, murmuring, “I’ll show you. We’ll pleasure each other.” Kiera took the kiss, devoured it, savored it, and wanted him. She lay with him under the sheets until she had to get up and dress—hoping she had not freaked him out. Okay with her honesty. It was the first time in her life; she had ever been in love. She was okay with that. Rafe was the kind of man, a woman would be all right falling in love with. It would hurt if he moved on to another relationship, but she wouldn’t regret a moment with this wonderful man. Rafe was leaned against the doorframe, fully dressed when she exited the bathroom, her neat suit on, and hair and make-up fresh. His gaze went over her, a breeze from the window ruffling his hair and his half-buttoned shirt. “You want to talk about Brook?” “You were in love with her?” “Yes.” He didn’t look away from her. “Brook is someone special to me.” Kiera nodded. “I know. She was in contact with Briane during that whole thing. She feels the same.” “She belonged with Coy. They fell in love, long ago…” Kiera searched his face. “And you loved Ashley.” “Always will.” Again, she nodded. “I can be around Brook, if that’s what you’re asking. I liked her years ago and that has not changed. At first, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel, when I realized my feelings for you were… going further than I expected. I don’t think what we have has anything to do with anyone, but us. Or am I wrong?” “You’re absolutely right.” He pushed away and walked toward her. “You’re you.” Rafe grinned a bit. “And I have the same feelings for them, a love. But I am a different man…rather, I see things differently, want something different, than I did back then. I told you, don’t assume, ask me anything, Kiera. And don’t be afraid to tell me what you want or need.” “I think I’ve crossed that bridge.” She laughed.

He raised his fingertips to touch her cheek. “Have fun when you go out with the ladies. Let yourself. “ Kiera nodded but bit her lip, then muttered, “They’ll start talking about relationships…” His brow rose and he traced under her bottom lip, murmuring, “You think I’m adverse to you admitting we’re in one, a relationship. Or lovers? I’m not. Everyone will know eventually. Small town gossip is very much alive in Diamond Back. I will be an envied man. You don’t even notice that businessmen, people in the park, men turn and look at you. They smile at your accent, and check you out. Makes me feel flattered, to be with you.” “Right.” She snorted. “You’ve had lots of….women.” “Lots.” He smiled dryly, and then leaned in to kiss her, before straightening, adding, “Very few knew anything about me. I told it all to you, within the first week. There’s a difference.” “There is.” His dark eyes held hers intently for several moments. “What?” Kiera felt the pull of them, saw emotions there. “I didn’t expect to feel this way about a woman—ever again. In fact, I started to think…” “Rafe.” She held that liquid gaze. “I’m not going to regret a moment of it. I think you’re—an incredible man.” “Just a man.” He grinned softly and walked her to the door. “I’ll lock up.” Kiera peeked at him before stepping out. “It was a delicious afternoon.” Rafe smiled, a lot wicked, “Wait till you see what’s on the menu, next time.” She murmured, “You I hope,” and heard his laughter as she went down the stairs. **** It didn’t take Jack long to fit into the family. Not having been around one so big, and with so many kids present, he played until he dropped, the first visit to Mitch’s. By the second, he was calling Mitch “Grandpa” with ease. He, Levi, and the rest got on great, other than the minor things kids with such keen personalities go through. He loved horses and Mitch loaded up two of them on a trailer and took him to the lake, to ride the trails, and to bond—for Mitch to tell him

about his great grandpa, the land, and how Copper Creek became the Coburn’s. Since he had studied all the photos Jason had given him in that album, Jack was full of questions and comments about his heritage. He was very obviously proud to belong, and overwhelmed with the love everyone showed him. Jason did more bonding with Jack, not only when he was driving him to and from, or at Mitch’s, and his own house—and when Jack was with Beth, and Jason stopped by to cook. He had Jack help him, because Beth was so weak from the first treatments. They talked, they laughed, watched cartoons, and they listened to music. He discovered it was important to Jack to be helping in some small way, and cooking those simple meals, Jack adding a flower on the tray they took her, meant everything to the boy. The first round of chemo Beth had, Jason made a point of sitting with her awhile before he left, while Jack went round to catch up with friends. He made sure the house was stocked with groceries, and secretly paid some of the bills he’d found on the table. He tried to joke with her, giving her props for being able and determined to, though she obviously felt like hell. Oddly enough, they actually got to know each other, childhood, background, jobs, and relationships. She’d loved the guy she had rebounded from, to Jason, that weekend. Nevertheless, she’d pushed him away, she claimed when he tried to get back together. She’d been in love twice, she said. Jason heard the regret in her voice, for lost time she’d never get back, wasted on fears, doubts…that not thinking she needed anyone… Of course, it reminded him, as any mention of relationships did, of how he ached for Briane. Actually, they were somewhat alike, he and Beth. He’d always held women at a distance, until Briane. He told Beth in that conversation, “I’ve never felt for anyone like I do Briane. We have this—connection—many if you count how we feel about singing and music.” He’d laughed roughly, staring out her bedroom window, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s been an up and down ride, but it hit us both fast. Briane had a lot to work through….a lot of fears, mistakes, this determination to find her way—and the more I think

on it, the more I realize that I wouldn’t admire her half so much, if she wasn’t someone determined to get where she’s going—and for the reasons she does it. Shit.” Beth murmured, “You spend too much time here. You need to go and talk to her.” “She won’t answer my calls.’ When Beth snorted, he looked around wryly, “Yeah. I deserve the pay back.” “No. This is serious, Jason. You and her.” Beth was on the covers, dressed in her PJ’s and propped up on pillows. “I’m having a better week. Don’t make the mistakes I did. Go see her. My timing sucked. I wasn’t thinking about you and your life….Okay—truth is, I went into panic mode when my tests came back. All I could think of was Jack, and what would happen to him. Please, go fix this with, Briane.” Jason thought, the next day, that his family must have thought so too—because GW came to his house, just as he got home from work and finished his shower. “Got the truck loaded down. I’m going over to mow Beth’s lawn.” Hair wet and wearing his jeans, Jason padded to the kitchen counter. “That’s—nice of you.” GW arched his brow. “Renee and some of the girls are going to go clean her house. Whatever…said something about taking her out, if she’s up to it. Renee’s made her up a bunch of organic food stuff.” “She’ll be embarrassed. Beth’s got a lot pride.” “Tough.” GW grunted. “She birthed a Coburn.” Jason nodded and opened a cold beer, taking a stool. He remembered how hard it was on GW, losing Lottie to breast cancer. He knew that GW had more reasons than the usual (Coburn’s helping) for offering to go to Beth’s. To affirm that, GW said, “I might make a habit—of driving up there, seeing what needs done to the house or whatever.” “I love you.” Jason doubted he’d ever said that aloud to GW. He suddenly felt like having an emotional melt down. “I…thank you, GW.” GW nodded and looked him over. “You’re doing everything that you can. Everything that’s right. But that don’t mean you have

to give up Briane.” “I didn’t—give her up.” “Good. You’ll have more free time. Some of us can run and fetch Jack, when he’s to stay here. Now that he’s used to us all. You don’t have to make an extra trip after work. Madeline is calling Beth, talking to her, and she has talked to Beth’s parents. You know us Coburn’s; everyone will do what they can for her.” “It was my—” “—Slip up? Mistake?” GW. grunted. “Yeah, well, it was a long time ago. And you got a handsome and smart little boy.” “I don’t regret him. I just don’t want to….abandon Beth…” “No one is saying for you to. Even so, if you’re putting this thing with Briane in a holding pattern, you need to tell her that. You ain’t had the time for her, and we all know she’s trying to act like its all good, and she’s okay. Neither of you are okay. Both of you are adults. If it can’t be right now, then you need to decide that— together, face to face.” “She might not see me.” GW was turning to leave. He said, “You’re a Coburn. You’ll find a way to make her, if you really want to.” Jason sat, sipping that beer, gazing broodingly at the empty foyer. What was fair to Briane? Shit. Couldn’t he be selfish, just a little bit? While Beth was still having treatments, he would need to take care of Jack—okay, truth was, Ruby’s kids, Max’s, Brooks, cousins, they would all be inviting Jack over to play and whatever. Before he got his nerve up and tried to work out exactly what he would say—or how he’d beg, depending on her response, Jason called Sunny. They talked about the legalities, the remaining custody issues—so he could get Jack on his insurance, in case the worst happened. It was something Beth agreed to. Before hanging up, he told Sunny, “I’ve been thinking about calling my Mom, kissing her ass, groveling, promising her the moon, so she’ll release that inheritance—and I can pay off Beth’s medical bills. Maybe have enough to start a college fund for Jack.” “No need to do that.” Sunny grunted. “I’ll get hell for telling you this, in fact I probably won’t get sex from Renee if she finds out I told you but…” “What?” “Max and Brook, they’ve arranged, through her lawyer, to pay

the ones in collections.” “Shit.” Jason felt both overwhelming humbleness and love for his half siblings. “Shit. They didn’t have to do that…” “Hey. It’s what family does. Yours, anyway. They can afford to help, so suck it up and take it. Someday down the road, you’ll likely get to return the favor. And…Speaking of Rhonda, have you told her about Jack?” “No. But town gossip being what it is, she knows by now.” “Maybe having a grandson—” “Nope. Not mom. And my last conversation with her…” Jason told him what he’d said” After a moment, Jason added, “I’m going to try and talk to Briane, I’ll catch you later.” “Good luck. Things will work out, Jason.” Sunny added, “As to your Mother, you did the right thing. This is no time to be indulging her. Move on and hopefully she will too.” **** “Oooh, a love bite.” Briane teased Kiera as they were getting dressed for girl’s night. Mora was spending the night with Jett. Kiera touched her upper breast, still in a towel. They were taking turns in the bath. “I’m proud of that.” Briane saw the glow in her sister’s eyes, the excitement, yes, she had noticed despite having her own relationship problems. There was such a change in Kiera, she could not help but see it. Briane laughed. “I won’t even bother to ask if he’s a good lover.” “Beyond good. He’s an amazingly… delicious man.” Briane said, before closing the door and going to dress. “If he makes you happy, and you’ve been glowing lately, I am thrilled.” “Rafe’s a dream I couldn’t have dared dream. I didn’t expect him to…ah, well, I didn’t expect anything here, did I? Rafe, is lovely in every way. He’s very deep…intense, and just as focused a lover as he is in everything else.” “Wow.” Kiera sighed. “Yeah. Wow.” In her rooms, dressing, Briane smiled in the mirror. She couldn’t be happier. Her sister deserved a mutual, healthy, adult, relationship. She wanted to hug him, thank him, for being so good, in every way, with Kiera, but it was doubtless easy, her sister had always underestimated herself.

An hour later, Brook blew the horn outside. Briane set the code as they left—Kiera looking knockout in black low-rise slinky trousers and sexy heeled shoes, a silver halter type blouse. Briane wore a mid thigh length dress, mossy green, and strappy shoes, her hair was up in a fun/casual style, and her (night) make up. Brook and Jordan, Renee, were dressed hip, chic, as they climbed in amid laughter, whoops, ready for good times, Briane remembered what she enjoyed and missed about those days with the band. Yes, she needed this. Dinner was delicious, hilarious and filled with “baby and husbands” stories. Renee said at one point, “My sister Lilly finished the 12 step and rehab. She’ll be coming in next month, gonna move in the farmhouse.” Briane offered, “That’s great, Renee.” Renee nodded. “I wish my brothers would move here too. Maybe they will. Cameron I doubt, he’s just…lost still. But hey, I can hope.” They talked too about the up coming fourth of July and show, with every expectation that Briane would attend and perform. She promised that hadn’t changed, Mitch had gone to a lot of trouble to introduce her and she wasn’t going to go back on her end of the commitment. For a bit, Briane just listened to more family conversation, learning a lot about Deena, and Renee’s growing up. There were hints dropped that Renee was soon going to give Sunny a yes, to the question of marriage. However, Renee said she wouldn’t tell anyone until she told Sunny first. It was obvious they were very close on every level. Briane noticed everyone avoided speaking about Jack though, and she didn’t want them to think they couldn’t, since they had talked about their own children. Therefore, she asked, “How is Jack fitting in the clan?” Everyone stopped and looked at each other. Finally, Brook smiled at her and said, “He’s great. Levi and he talk on the phone. He hasn’t had a big family, so you can imagine.” “That’s good.” “Yeah.” Before they paid the check, Briane glanced around, noticing that Kiera looked concerned for her. She said to everyone in

general. “I’ve got a son of my own. Children are a blessing. Whatever Jason and I do or don’t have, it’s not because he fathered a child.” Jordan, as they were leaving, hugged her, and murmured, “Things will settle down. Jason’s pulled in every direction right now…” “I’m fine. Let’s go party.” Briane insisted, grinning. “I’ve worked my ass off this week.” Two hours at the club was fun—though none of them drank much. During the dancing—and all of them being approached for a pick up, caused a lot of laughter and teasing. Brook and Briane were sitting at their table at one point, watching Kiera dance with a chap who had asked her three times before she finally gave in. Brook nudged Briane’s arm. “She’s like some beautiful bird, set free. Blooming—right before our eyes.” “Yeah. She’s finally coming into her own, and accepting its okay to be happy.” Brook sipped her lite beer, and then offered, “Coy and I were talking, the other night, after the kids were in bed. Both of us agree that Kiera is what Rafe has been looking for. Where he fits now. And, we hope, with everything in us, they’ll see that rightness in each other.” Briane watched her sister again, moving, dancing, laughing, and just letting go. “Part of it, is starting her dream business, allowing herself to do that with confidence. Part…is, I suspect, love.” She glanced over to find Brook smiling musingly. Brook said, “I’ll bet he feels like he doesn’t know what hit him.” She laughed then. “I hope he does. Rafe and Kiera…umm, yeah, I can see where she would do it for him.” “She finally feels that, I think. Kiera has always been the too serious one, the brain, and even though she had a sophisticated style, I think she saw that as dressing professional—not realizing her attractiveness. When I saw her new hair style, what she looked like, before I performed at the Mill on their first date—I could tell she was seeing herself the way others do. At least she wanted Rafe to notice.” “She’s got it all, and Rafe’s no fool. He and I have had that talk about how you grow and hopefully learn things, as you get

older and mature. In spite of his experiences, he is a deeper man. He has always had this heartbreakingly gentle side to him, though it amazes me. He has a great well of compassion for people. However, the other side of him has always been longing for someone who can release all of that love and pain, and emotion in him too. I see the same in Kiera. I see that same having been brave and kept on keeping on, and never finding or trusting someone to look deep into what and who she really is. That’s why I think they’re perfect for each other.” Briane nodded. “I shed as many tears for her, as myself. It seemed that life was never going to give Kiera a break. Now, her time has come…” The others returned from the restroom, and Kiera joined them, a little out of breath. After finishing their drinks, they agreed it was time to head to Brook’s. On the way, Jordan was texting Max, and Renee was cracking jokes—talking about some guy who kept going from woman to woman, asking what their sign was. She told him hers was (My husband is six feet four and will beat your ass if you don’t get your hand off my leg.) Kiera, who sat between them in back, looked at Brook, their gaze and smiles catching in the rear view. Briane saw it and sighed, happy that Kiera’s move here had worked a miracle. At Brooks—Coy, Levi, and the baby, were at Max’s for the night, Max had Jordan’s daughter and their baby— so the women brewed gourmet coffee. After Brook passed out fattening delicious pints of ice cream, they sat on the back deck, eating it, sharing more funny stories and laughter, and generally talking about everything and anything. Shoes off, like the rest of them, Briane had her feet on the lower rail, looking out at the lake—eating, listening to Renee talking about a guy who came into the clinic thinking the “massage therapy” was code for sex. She had them all rolling with laughter, saying, “He dropped his trousers, right there in the middle of the room, and Brook had just finished up with a little old lady, and sent her to me for some massage oil… Anyway, here he was, holding his “thang” and I’m standing there—with an open jar of honey—because I was putting out samples. That poor old woman just took it all in, in one glance,

and I thought she was going to have a heart attack! She sputtered, “Harvey Mead, I’ll pray for your soul in church on Sunday! And, as for you, she glared at me, you ought to be ashamed. It took me chasing her into the parking lot, to explain—and poor Harvey, he was purple with embarrassment.” Jordan spewed her coffee when Brook said, “Read an article once, where this dude wanted a bigger dick, so he put honey on it, and went out to the bee hives to let them sting him….” “You’re having us on!” Kiera held her nose, her own drink ready to spew out. Brook ate a spoon of chocolate ripple and shook her head, grinning. “No. I swear. Happened in the next county. Said they pulled 200 stingers out of it.” Howling now, the women finally recovered, but Renee contributed, “He’d been better off being allergic to honey…that would have swelled him a few inches. Though I’ve a few herbs that…” “…. Hush. You two are a mess.” Jordan threw a napkin at Renee. Brook laughed. “Ha, Jordan, I heard what Max did for you last month.” Jordan actually flushed. Brook winked at everyone and whispered, “Got something pierced.” Pointing to her crotch. Kiera laughed at the look Jordan shot Brook, before Jordan too was laughing. She then tossed her empty pint in the bin, and then leaned back against the rail, near Briane’s feet. Kiera eyed the star filled sky, before lowering her head, and murmuring, “I think I’m in love—with Rafael.” There was silence a moment, and then grins all around. Brook’s eyes went misty. Kiera went on softly, “I’m okay with what it is, because it’s more than I knew was possible. When I hold him inside me—I want to heal his past, give him the embraces he never had… I want to embrace him for the wonderful person he is. Like he should be held. Yet—I want to say, do you know how you fill me so completely, all the empty places?” “Oh, God.” Renee whispered, smiling. “I know that feeling.” “Me too.” Jordan grinned and sighed.

Kiera bit her lip. “There’s the other, the place a kiss or touch can take you to. He taps into it, releases something in me that I didn’t know was there. He watches me fly…with such joy.” She turned and looked at Briane, who was watching, and listening with a small smile and said, “It’s like fire that melts you, but something, something—that brings all the emotions to the surface… you’re wanton, abandoned, but completely safe.” Briane reached out and captured her hand, holding it a moment. Her eyes watered—because Jason—made her feel that. Brook stood and walked to Kiera, hugging her tightly, before she said, “I’m so happy for you. I love you. I always knew there was someone who would understand him, reach him, and be perfect for him. And you deserve everything too, Kiera.” After they parted, the others raised their cups, and Kiera confessed, “I’m not going to think about how long it lasts, if it lasts. It is already changing me, ridding me of my lack of worth, my guilt, my wondering—if there was something wrong with me, that the men in my life abandon me. I’m going to savor what is, and always be grateful for that.” “Oh, honey.” Brook shook her head. “You have every reason to hope for a forever.” Jordan got up, and put several cups in the sink, coming back out with a cigarette. She went to the sisters, and sat down near Briane’s feet, saying as she was gazing out over the water. “Here’s to love. To lovers. To men who make us feel like the only woman in the world, and give us wings, to do what we never would dare.” Briane listened, knew, why she had said it. Her emotions were starting to crash down on her, so she stood and murmured, “Thanks for the great time, everyone.” She went around hugging the girls. Kiera told her. “I’ll see you later; Rafe’s picking me up here.” “I’ll give you a lift home,” Jordan offered Briane. “My bike is here…” Briane opened her mouth to accept, but a shadow blocked out the rail lights, on the side deck, for a moment. Then Jason was standing there. “I’ll take you home,” his deep bass voice was soft on the summer night. The crickets and night sounds on the lake were

suddenly strident. Later, Briane would swear that everyone standing there was holding their breath. She looked at Jason, her eyes filling with him, aching anew in all the places that he had touched. He was in worn jeans and a button up blue shirt, and black leather shoes, hair ruffled by the night breeze. It seemed like a million years since that Sunday…. “All right.” She glanced at Kiera briefly, then got her purse and followed him out to his truck. Tension was overflowing as she climbed in and thicker still, when he was in too, and pulling out. He didn’t drive directly to her house, but took some familiar to him dirt road. The moon was high and full, the windows down. Briane breathed his scents in the truck, aware he had his arm along the window that he glanced at her now and then. Finally, Jason parked, having driven higher on a ridge. They sat in silence while the engine ting’d. His deep voice murmured roughly, “Let’s get out.” Briane glanced at him. Jason opened his door, so she did likewise, tossing her shoes back in the floorboard, and walking around, watching him let the tailgate down. He leaned his hips on the edge of it, long legs out. Jason offered her a cigarette. Seating herself, she took one, gazing at him as the lighter flared, finding him looking at her. While she was taking a drag, his aqua eyes were going from her head to her bare feet. Later Briane knew when his head was back, and he was gazing up at the stars, smoking awhile. She was ultra aware of him. Eventually he drawled deep, “I caught your show the other night.” “Didya. I didn’t see you.” “You’re an amazingly talented performer. Not just that awesome show at the Mill, you’re great with the smaller stage too.” “Thanks.” A moment passed. Jason sighed, and then she felt his gaze on her profile again. He confessed softly, “I had it worked out in my head that Sunday—that we were going to go to my place, talk, and be clear that we were dating—really dating. I was going to say, I

don’t want to flirt with women, pick them up, that I’m exclusive…” “Jason…” “….I was going to say, you’re tough, Briane, and have a hard time opening up. But you know what? I care enough to pay attention. To read into what you’re reluctant to say.” She felt her throat close a moment, responding to his deep voice, his words… “And I would have suggested we go out, movies, whatever, and I could catch your shows when I’m not working. And I would have said—I had issues with my Mom, issues with commitment before, but—” “—But everything has changed.” She turned her head and regarded him. “You’re not Just Jason, the single guy; you were, with no responsibilities. You are a father. “ “Yes. It was unexpected, but I love Jack.” “Course you do,” Briane said it softly, her eyes going over him. “And his life is tough. He needs ya’ right now.” “Yes. But it doesn’t mean what we have—” Briane crushed the cigarette, leaning now too, and folding her arms, gazing down at her feet on the dusty road. “I’m going to see my own son. It’s his birthday next week. I’ll be gone a couple a’ days and then fly back.” “I’ve thought about him ever since I saw his picture. And when I saw him on that live feed…He’s so cool. I hope to meet him— someday.” Oh, God. He was killing her. She nodded. “When I… when I get more settled, I’ve talked to his grandmother about him staying a few weeks with me…whatever he wants.” “I miss you, Briane.” Glancing up, over at him, those blue eyes nearly brought her to her knees. Her voice was gruff too, “Life is complicated for you right now, Jason. You have new priorities. Ya don’t need something else pulling at you. Brook told me… about Beth’s cancer.” A nerve twitched in his cheek. “She—Beth, told me, I was spending too much time at her place, to talk to you…explain.” “She’s probably a wonderful person, Jason.” “Yeah.” His expression looked a little grim. “I’m ashamed to say, I didn’t know that.”

She could feel his emotions. Briane knew that having Jack in his life, and Beth, was rocking Jason’s world. She offered, “You don’t have to explain to me, Jason.” However, he rasped, “She doesn’t have a lot of family, no one really. I said I would be there for her. In spite of how she went about things—I understand it—Briane, it’s the least I can do.” “You’re a good man…” “Bri, I can’t stand this…” He rasped and moved, and came to take her in his arms, one around her waist, the other holding her head to his chest. His heart was pounding so hard. She had her arms around him. Above her head, he husked, “I felt like we finally reached a place, where I understood you, and all you went through, and you trusted me. Shit. I feel like just when we…” Briane pushed back, leaning against his hold, so she could look at him. “Yes, and because I have experienced grief and loss. No matter what she was to ya’, Beth’s now the mother of your child —if something happens to her, you’re going to feel pain… you’re going to feel Jack’s pain, Jason. Even if that doesn’t happen, and I pray she recovers, and beats the odds. But even then—you will have witnessed her going through this struggle, and you’ll be changed by this.” He closed his eyes and nearly crushed her to him, holding her tightly, emotionally. “I know you understand my choices. But, I can see you’re feeling the same turmoil I am. How selfish can I be? Fuck. I don’t know to be sad or happy, or both. I’ve taken this on. I accept being Jack’s father. He’s in my heart already. I know with everything, where it is—my time, everything—is day by day. And I still want to be selfish and ask you to be here, to not let any of this change how far we’d come…” Briane couldn’t speak yet. When Jason released her, they looked at each other, not touching save for their eyes—both wanting and needing to, both feeling a riot of emotions… She managed, “I’ve got work, the shows, and life to live, something I have to keep doing. The obligations and commitments, which I relish. The roots I put down here are for Liam too. Jason. Neither of us would be the people we are, if we turn back from our responsibilities, or make selfish choices.” Briane stepped back, putting that distance between them,

but offered, “Give Jack the support he needs, and—be with Beth, too.” her throat constricted but Briane got through it. “See them through this; because that’s the kind of man you’d be, if I wasn’t in the picture. That’s the kind of thing ya’d do.” He shook his head and turned around a moment, his back to her, hiding whatever struggle his face might show. Before walking to get into the truck Briane said, “I’ll go see Liam, and I’ll visit Madeline and Mitch. I’ll work and do my shows— do what I came across an ocean to do. I was scared before. I probably still am. But you helped me…you did it before I even met you.” She saw his head come up, but murmured, “There’s a lot of levels we understand each other on, Jason. You’ve seen me up the steepest part of the mountain—I have taken the bigger creative risks already. We’ll see each other…” Her voice was barely steady. “Though it might hurt us both, you wouldn’t be the man you are if you weren’t doing what you’re doing for Jack and Beth. I respect you for that. I would not be the woman I have struggled so long to be—if I made you reject what you felt was right. I know, Jason. I know you’re also showing your son—what he can learn someday about being a man, being compassionate and strong too…” On the thinnest thread of control, Briane was in the truck for some time, before he joined her. In the side mirror, Briane watched him walk a bit away—saw the glow of his cigarette. Part of her wanted to get out and run to him, to drown them both in passion—expend the emotions tearing them up, and pretend nothing else existed. The other part, hurt. It just ached, for the both of them. When he got in the truck and started it, Jason stared at her for a while, before he pulled out. That heavy feeling hung between them, of that wall Jason didn’t know how to pull down, and Briane would not go over. They rolled through Copper Creek. Briane understood even more, why Jason promised Beth he would be there for her. She had always known, through Brook. And, really, that was part of her fascination with Jason—the Coburn’s. They were loyal. They did what they thought was right. They cared about people. Reaching the house, he pulled in the drive, behind her car

and cut the engine. Briane had her hand on the door, when he leaned over and cupped her cheek, then his head was descending and his mouth covering hers as soon as she turned to look at him. She allowed herself to clutch him, and for several wild and emotional moments, everything they felt was there to taste, to feel, to drink of each other. Jason raised his head, breathing dark, his expression intense. His thumb brushed her moist bottom lip and his eyes searing hers. “Help me. Help me not beg.” His blue eyes glistened with tears. His so masculine and strong visage was ravaged with pain. “I’ve aged years this week. Severed ties with my mother. I know what kind of man I have to be. I know what my Daddy taught me, and what I have to do, to live with myself.” His hand cupped her face and he searched her eyes. His voice was rough, wrecked, “Help me…Briane…” Her eyes drowning in tears, Briane put her arms around him. She held him while he wept—all his emotions heaving up, sounds, deep ones, filling the cab of the truck. Hers were silent, yet no less painful. He held to her, clutched her tightly and wept brokenly— pouring out long, long, held emotions, from the depths of his soul. When he was drained, she kept holding him, rocking slightly and rubbing his strong back. He finally leaned back, his eyes closed. He wiped his hands roughly down his cheeks. Briane murmured, “I think you already are strong, Jason. You’ve more love in you than any man I’ve ever met.” Hand on the door now, ready to leave, she supplied, “You know how I feel about my Da not loving me, walking off like that. How you feel about your Ma. Because you know that, you’ll never be selfish.” Briane got out and walked to the house. She was inside a long time, sitting tense on the sofa, in the shadows, not hearing his truck pull out for nearly an hour. When it did, Briane lay on her side, on the sofa and wept, for him, for her, but mostly for Jason, because he was a man who felt keenly about mother-son relationships, because of the bond he longed for and lacked with his own. His dad hung the moon for him, and Jason wanted to be that for his son too.

Chapter 16 Briane returned from the UK, having centered herself again, having looked, breathed, embraced her son—who was nearly as tall as she was. A lad who on his casual day had an urban hip style. Liam was maturing fast, and though he was proud she was his Mum, it brought home to her how little time a mother has to be a mother. She had missed much already. Of course, he had been on her web page, and on the Coburn’s. Apparently, he talked quite a bit to Max before they did that live feed. And, she talked about Jason, a lot about him, so that her perceptive son grinned and said, “He’s your Fella.” “No—he—we like each other but he has a son now—I mean he...” she tried to explain the relationship. Green eyes locked with hers, with that young light-hearted view of the world, and Liam said, “Adults always make things more mucked up than they are. It seems pretty simple to me.” He shrugged. “But whatever ya want, I’m for that.” She’d hugged him, and even gone on the website too and pointed out in the Coburn group pictures, who was who, able now, to tell funny stories, true ones, about their personalities. She went to the cinema with Liam, to the park, and they hung out with some of his friends, some in teens that Liam did video games with or whatever. It was bloody hard to leave him, but he was relaxed about it, saying, “I’ll come to the states soon. With everything settled for you, it’ll be different now.” She prayed so. With part of her old self healed, part of the new Briane reforged, resolved, she still walked out of the airport—and found Brook, instead of Kiera as she expected, waiting for her—and felt her knees nearly give out. Brook hugged her, just enough of something missing in her welcome back smile, to shake Briane to her core. In Brook’s vehicle, on the way home, her friend said quietly, “Jason’s getting married to Beth this week...” At first Briane couldn’t breathe. She nearly doubled over in the seat, but caught herself and steadied. Brook went on, “She got some bad news. The treatment center said her insurance company dropped her. Max and I paid

the old bills, but she was adamant she only wanted help for Jack. Anyway, she can’t very well stop mid treatment. Mitch had her parents flown up as soon as possible. Jason—wanted to put her on his insurance and gain power of attorney, but he has no legal power unless he marries her. Her parent’s are in no shape to handle anything, they are devastated that she’s going through this again. They have talked her into selling the house, her car, and are behind the marriage—because they have to return to California, and their own treatments. Jason could take care of her and Jack. Jack is—he’s afraid she’s going to die. And—and…” Briane drew in a full breath, her hand clutching the door handle. “Go on…” “At first, when she got the notice, she just gave up and refused everything—refused anymore chemo at all—when the insurance dropped her, but Jason convinced her to take this solution. He has already paid a large sum to the treatment center. I’d guess, it’s his entire savings.” Blindly staring ahead, Briane said, “It will be good for Jack, to have the Coburn’s around…” “Yes.” They didn’t speak awhile and when Brook pulled in at the house, they sat there awhile. Finally, as she got out, Briane murmured, “Thanks, Brook, for being the one to tell me.” Brook was crying. “The show at the Mill will go on as usual. The family…They have decided to wait—on the annual picnic…”Before Briane closed the door Brook asked, “How was Liam?” “Great. Growing too tall. A young man already, but very proud of me.” “I’m proud of you too.” Going around the car, she reached in and took Brook’s hand. Their eyes held a moment. Briane told her, “I’m okay. My friend.” Brook shook her head. “Jason’s not. And you’re not. Briane murmured, “But that’s not more important than a woman’s life or at least, her chance for one.” After Brook pulled out, Briane took her carry all in, wheeling her suitcase, and then just sat on the bed, staring at nothing. Given the circumstances, a few years ago she would have fallen apart,

chucked all of her new life, and crawled into a hole of misery. Now, she was a different woman. Kiera came home early and stood in the bedroom doorway. “How are you?” Briane glanced at her. Kiera was happy. She would be moving out this week and Briane would wager it would not be long before Rafe moved in that white house with her. “I’m fine.” She forced a smile. She let her sister come in and hug her, and she made herself go shower and do some housework, so that she was still (fine) when Kiera left to pick up Mora. Briane gave herself props for carrying on the rest of that evening, even going out to eat with them. The next day, she showed up for work, and did her shift, and heard the next round of gossip about the marriage. After work, Briane’s went to Rafe’s and had dinner. Kiera was at the white house, overseeing the delivery of furnishings. Rafe came out, looking handsome, too compassionate, but he invited, “Come to the back, will you.” She did, joining him in his private office. He poured her a white wine and she sipped, watching him sit on the edge of the desk. “I care very much for your sister.” Briane smiled at him. “Good.” He tucked his hands into his slack pockets casually. “Do you think it would be detrimental to Mora if I moved in with them?” “No. She’s crazy about you.” Rafe grinned. “It’s mutual. She is like her mother, amazing. We were at the park the other day and someone mistook her for my daughter. They said she looked just like me, and she never corrected them.” “Daft for ya.” He stood and walked over to the window. “We were having some kind of conversation another time… and Mike came up. I referred to him as her dad. You know what she said?” “What?” “She said, my ma is my dad and my ma. Mike never was. Just because I can bake a pretty cookie doesn’t make me a chef.” Briane laughed. “That’s Mora. She’s pretty sharp.”

Rafe turned and gazed at her, a lock of hair sliding over his handsome brow. “Kiera—scares me.” “How so.” “My feelings…” He laid a hand on his chest. “Hers—I am half afraid that what she feels, aside from our mutual admiration and respect, is because she’s never had a man treat her decently, or love her well, or see what an amazing woman she is.” “That’s partly true.” Briane leaned back, meeting his attentive gaze. “But you look like a man who knows the difference of when a woman is just feeling passion—and feeling something more. You pay attention to that.” He grinned slightly. “I do.” Briane smiled too. “You can take your time if you want. I can see where that is best for Mora. However, it’s not going to change Kiera’s feelings toward you. I think it probably would be good for you both to be together more. You know more than I, that passionate lovers, intensity, scare both parties. You start wanting to assure yourself that you are safe with them, your emotions and feelings. You keep asking yourself if they’re feeling what you’re feeling…” He nodded slightly. Briane got up and set the wine down, then went to him and hugged him. Stepping back, Briane said, “She’s passionately in love with you.” Rafe looked relieved but confided, “There are people in this town who talk. I don’t care. Nevertheless, they will talk more because we are both in the business sector now. I’ve been told that many people think I’m rebounding from Ashley and her death. It is not like that at all, Briane. This is something I did not expect. It’s different because I’m different. I don’t like Kiera hearing that but I know…” “She’ll hear it. We all hear the town talk. However, Kiera has been played and used, she knows the difference as much as you do.” “I hope.” He looked pensive a moment and then murmured, “Twice I loved, a different kind of love, but by the time I was with Ashley I was working on that house and thought I was at that settling down and marriage stage. It didn’t happen. And where I once thought the house would represent something to me, it turned

out to be only cherished and fond memories.” He commanded her gaze again, his intent to show her the truth of his emotions. “What I feel with Kiera has nothing and everything to do with the past. In the sense that is some part of who I am, and what made me, or evolved into who I am at this stage. But it happened separate from anything I was going through, or expecting, it’s just….” “Like a gift.” He nodded. “My knees get weak around her sometimes. I find myself watching her cook, or just sitting at the window seat— looking out at nothing, and I can’t take my eyes off of her.” Briane grinned softly, her own eyes watering. He drew in a deep breath, “and there is the passion, layers of emotion make it—deeper.” Rafe just shook his head. “Nothing before, compares.” “You know your own feelings well, Rafe, and are perceptive of hers.” Before leaving Briane told him, smiling, “I’d get over there and claim my closet space, if I were you.” He laughed and then murmured before she closed the door, “I sold my house this morning…” “I’d call that fate, like a beginning, the door you need to walk through…now you know where that is, who will be there for you,” Briane replied and left, driving by the white house a bit later and seeing the moving trucks still there. The catering part would open in a week or so, Kiera had a lot to get done in a short time, but doubtless Rafe would help her. Mora was excited, in love with her new room, she had gotten to paint it her colors, she told Briane, and Rafe turned out to be a good artist. They put Gaelic writings on there with pictures of fairies and princesses. Briane was happy for all of them. Having driven aimlessly after leaving Rafael’s, not wanting to go home and sit and brood, Briane found herself at a park, by the lake, sitting on a picnic table, gazing out at the water. Her cell in her purse rang. “Hello?” “Hey...” “Mitch.” “I was calling to see if you and the band needed to rehearse at The Old Mill before the 4th?” “No. I know you guys are working hard, with the town too,

Brook says. Since we’re doing a smaller set, 3 songs, we’ve been going over it at the house.” Briane watched a duck waddle to the lake edge. “We’ve picked 3 we think will appeal to the audience.” “Great. Yeah, used to be, the town of Diamond Back would hold a separate concert. This way, we combine them, while it still brings the tourists in to the businesses. The town has their entertainments, shops, bake sales, but we do the concerts, the Mayor hosts everything.” “Sounds smart.” “Yep. Brook explain about the picnic?” “Yes and the wedding…” He sighed. “It’s not a real marriage.” “But it’s a commitment. One I have no place in.” She got up and headed toward the car. “I’m sure any one of the Coburn’s would have done what Jason has. I hope she recovers.” “Everyone prays so. She’s a nice person.” “I never thought otherwise.” “You going to come by this Sunday?” “Sure. I’ll come for a bit.” “Briane…” “Don’t worry about me, Mitch. I am still Brook’s best friend, and I am still a woman entertainer, and mother. I still have a life that I am working on, and myself too. Please, don’t worry. Love all of you guys.” He responded quietly, gruffly, “We love you too, Briane.” She reached her car when he clicked off and got in. That night Briane sat and talked to Kiera for hours. Kiera and Rafe would be busy, getting the house ready, not only for a home, but the business. Kiera told her about Rafe asking to move in (claiming he would sleep in a spare downstairs room she was converting into a business office.) Briane didn’t tell her about her conversation with Rafe. Kiera said, “He’s in between houses, and he’d mentioned us doing things with Mora… He’s so great with her. Their wonderful to watch together…” “And you’ll love having him there all night.” Kiera laughed and nodded. “Um. Can’t deny it. Although, we have been too busy to be—very romantic. It’s just as wonderful when we’re there working or whatever.” She said, “We got green

aprons for the staff. I had a shingle for out front put up yesterday, shamrock shaped that says Kiera’s catering with a K. I love just sitting and gazing at it. Folks likely think I’m daft when they drive by.” She snorted. “I’m so bloody proud of you.” “Thanks.” Kiera eyed her. “I wish things would have worked out for you and Jason.” “Life is messy.” Briane responded. Before they went to bed, Kiera told her, “I’ll be busy, and be moving out, but we’re sisters. You were there for me through some of the worst times in my life. You call me, I’ll drop anything and be here….” “I’ll be all right. Knowing you are, will keep me, keeping on too. I’ll come by after work sometime…” “You’d better.

Chapter 17 Sunday, Briane went to Madeline and Mitch’s. There were various family members in and out, some of them stopping in to eat, others to play music, as some of them were rehearsing, many of them were checking in with Mitch or Madeline on other things concerning the Mill’s 4th of July show. Having eaten and visited with Madeline and Ruby, exchanging general conversation, and then answering their questions about Kiera and Rafe. Both women being obviously thrilled that Rafe was in a romance with Kiera. Jett and Mora were best friends—computer, phone, texting, constantly, according to Ruby. Also, both women having a long-standing closeness with Rafe, they were like mothers, or rather older sisters, when it came to Rafe. Moving around, talking to some of the younger cousins and teens, Briane could hear various genres of music in different corners of the house and yard. She stood a long time listening to one of the younger groups practice, (I lay my love on you,) by Westlife. The young male Coburn singing had a sensual voice. Briane had to swallow several times to stay composed. The three girls singing background were amazing; and the group made the song their own. Even with just guitar, soft drums, it had the passion, intimacy and emotions that made you feel every word… Briane clapped and complimented them afterwards. The usual laughing and talking that came with a visit to the Coburn’s on a Sunday, filled in the spaces between music. She didn’t expect to see Brook and Renee. Brook was home with Maddy, who was feeling bad with some kind of bug going round, and Renee and Sunny were away for the weekend. Coy and Levi were there, and Coy was playing music with Jude and Mitch out by the picnic tables. “You look lost.” Briane smiled dryly at Alvin. “Nah, just walking off all that ham, and the rest of that grand feast. This family has too many good cooks.” Alvin smiled through his bushy beard. He wore a ball cap backwards, had a dip in his lip, and was dressed in a black tank T-shirt and ratty old jeans with timberline boots. “I was coming to

find you.” He led her outside and past a cluster of people on the porch, to the other side of the house. “Something wrong?” She sat herself on the picnic table, accepting the cold beer he opened and handed her. “Nope.” He leaned his hips on the edge. Throwing his hand up as GW blew his horn, going down the road. “He’s MCing at the Mill.” “You two are both good talkers.” He grinned and winked at her before turning his own beer up, drinking half, then saying, “I’ll get to it.” She cocked her brow, sipped, and was watching kids run and play in the yard, half hearing music and talk, seeing the 4 wheelers and dirt bikes—taking the trails across Mitch’s land. She saw two people walking toward the drive. Jason and his son, they must have walked over from Jason’s house. GW saw them too. She murmured, “You weren’t worried I was going to...” “Nope.” He shook his head. “Jack’s a good kid. Since Jason listens to your music, so does he. He knows who you are. He might not understand the details of the marriage between Jason and Beth, and how you and Jason hooked up—doesn’t matter to a kid that age.” “Umm.” Alvin explained, “I was looking for you, because Renee’s sister, Lily, rolled in last night.” He motioned over to the farmhouse. “She wasn’t expected this early. But none of us wanted to call Renee and ruin her weekend.” He winked. “She and Sunny are trying to make a baby. I get a feeling Renee is ready to put him out of the rest of his misery and marry him. At least we hope.” Briane smiled. “Anyway, Lily’s all but a stranger to the family. And not that it matters, because we loved her to pieces when she was a kid, but considering the wild life she’s been living, what she’s gone through, she might not take our protective—and loving, ways—the right way…” Briane waited. Alvin scratched his beard and murmured, “Just was wondering if she comes to Sunny’s, if you’d kind of, keep an eye on her. Maybe befriend her?”

“I’ll try.” Briane nodded. He grunted, finished his beer, and told her, “She’s done well. Got herself clean and all. It’s just that Renee says she’s not the most trusting of us. Her ma, Deena, fed her a load, I reckon. But she’ll come around.” “I’m sure.” “Thanks.” “No problem.” Briane smiled at him. “I’ve been down that road.” “Yeah. And you turned out all right.” After a bit, someone was yelling at Alvin, because someone got their dirt bike stuck or something, so he tossed the bottle, kissed Briane on the cheek, and left. Chuckling, rubbing her face where his beard tickled, Briane tossed her empty too and walked around the back—lingering at the corner of the house, observing Jason for a moment. He had on nice denims and a white shirt, his sunglasses, and running shoes. He was horse playing with Jack, and a few of the younger kids, pretending to run and let them catch him, and then chasing them. Jack, as he chuckled and ran back toward the picnic table, his dad doing the chasing now, looked exactly like Jason. His eyes, she saw when he spotted her, were darker, but otherwise, he was a handsome Coburn. Briane sucked in a breath as the boy kept coming toward her. For a split second she glanced from him, to see Jason had stopped in his tracks, the were kids playing around him, one pulling on his muscled leg. He was staring at her… “Hi.” “Hey.” She jerked her gaze down to the flush faced and breathless little boy. “You’re Briane.” “I am.” “I’m Jack Ba…uh Coburn.” He looked at her straight on, with soft brown eyes. Incredibly beautiful. “Nice to meet you, Jack.” She took a step and offered her hand. He shook it, still gazing at her. “We listened to your music this morning. Dad and me.” She assumed it was the CD they’d cut at Jude’s one

evening, just 12 songs, so they’d have them to hand out on the 4th, and to send to fans from their face book page—which James and Cody had done up awesome, Celtic themed. “Did you like it?” she asked, liking him. He grinned and nodded. “Mommy did too. She made us turn it up real loud.” Briane felt her heart squeeze, but she murmured, “Do you play?” “Piano. I never saw so many kids who can play as in this family. Daddy said, I could learn to play anything. But I gotta practice hard for the fourth. Grandpa Mitch said us kids get to be on stage at the Mill. I been practicing down at Uncle Jude’s. So I’ll get better and better.” “You will.” He nodded, looked around, and then back to her. “I met your sister the other day, when we had ice cream at Rafael’s. She’s pretty. She said she’d do my birthday cake in Mario Brothers. I saw her little girl, Mora. Why’s she in school?” Briane wanted to hug him. He had a sweet tone to his voice, an obvious southern drawl, and such a friendly manner. “She’s taking some summer classes, to catch up with kids her age. We’re from Ireland.” “Yeah. I like the way you talk. Mommy showed me on the map where it was.” He said, “Daddy. Jason…that’s my Daddy. He talks about you a lot.” Briane flickered her gaze upwards and saw that Jason was still watching, though he was now leaning under a shade tree, shoe sole back on the bark, his glasses pushed up, smoking. She heard the lad add, “He said you might play a song today, if I asked you real nice.” Briane glanced at him, now knowing why he’d came over, and finding it flattering a boy that age liked her music, though finding it touched her a little deeper— because he was Jason’s son. “What did you like from the CD?” He grinned and hunched his shoulders in an endearing and comical way, “Bog Down in The Valley.” She touched his thick black hair. “I’ll make a deal wi ye laddy.” Jack chuckled and when she dropped her hand asked,

“What?” “I’ll sing it, if ye will sing it wi me.” He flushed. “I can’t talk like you.” “Oh, I don’t know. Your drawl is pretty close to my accent. In any case, it’ll sound much better with a lad singing it.” “Okay.” He grinned somewhat bashful. “In an hour or so?” “Sure.” He spun and ran off. She saw that he ran to Jason and was talking excitedly. Briane supposed he was repeating their conversation. She headed over to get a chair and put it a bit back, near the rear of the house, where she could just observe but still be in conversation. Several of the family spoke to her, or asked her something. Jack went about his play, and Briane settled into a quiet conversation with Susan under the louder others, watching Jason as she did so. He walked over to Coy, who called out. They were scanning a piece of sheet music. Probably discussing something, they were playing the fourth. Briane noted the arc of sun on his coal black hair, the way his skin had bronzed more…the way his denims fit his long muscled legs and ass. She dragged her gaze back up, staring at his profile, wanting to touch his cheek so bad, and that dent in his chin. Shuddering a breath, she glanced at Susan. “Sorry, what?” The woman grinned. “Nothing.” Her eyes moved to Jason then back. “No use acting like you two are strangers.” “No,” Briane murmured only half-aware of commenting. After Susan got up, Jason was walking toward his guitar. He sat slightly facing her, but in the group, that included Jude, Coy, Deege and a few others. His gaze touched hers as he softly picked, and then with a nod to the others they played. Jason tore her up when he sang (Broken) by Lifehouse, in husky tones that everyone in the yard hushed to listen to… I'm falling apart…I'm barely breathing...With a broken heart… That's still beating….In the pain…There is healing…In your name…I find meaning…So I'm holding on ….I'm barely holding on to you. The broken locks were a warning. You got inside my

head…I tried my best to be guarded. I'm an open book instead. And I still see your reflection…Inside of my eyes…they’re looking for purpose, they’re still looking for life. I’m falling apart, I’m barely breathing. With a broken heart…In the pain…is there healing…in your name, I find meaning… I’m holding on…I’m still...holding… I’m barely holding, onto you. Coy, who was singing harmony with Jude on the chorus, had a moment where he could not sing, watching Jason. He swallowed, and looked over at Mitch, who was so torn up; he took off up the path, toward the hillside… I’m hanging out, another day…just to see what—you’ll throw my way…and I’m hanging on, to the words you say, you said that I will—be okay… Briane felt her whole body fill with pain, and had to look away, though his eyes never left her. She was conscious that everyone looked at her too, and knew, he sang only to her. Her heart echoed every word—but she held it together, meeting his eyes at the last one—for a heartbeat—reading the ache in his own. She went in and gathered herself, sitting in the coolly tiled bathroom, rocking slightly—and breathing—just breathing—holding herself together and fighting the pain that for whatever reason, he was another woman’s husband. Briane washed her face and was leaning against the door, drawing in deep and steadying breaths when she heard Mitch’s gruff tones as he was passing by with Madeline… “I can’t stand this, Madeline. I can’t watch him hurt this way.” “Oh, my love. I know. It is killing all of us.” “And Briane’s, Madeline…did you see that expression? Did you feel it? I wanted to go over there and rock her like a baby. Him too.” “I saw. I’ve heard it in her voice, even when she’s trying not to show it. We must be strong for Jason. No matter what we would have done, he’s doing what he thinks he should, so we have help him.” “No man should take that much upon his shoulders. Sacrifice —I—did I make him think that he…” “No, my love. He is a Coburn. They do and think for themselves. He’s hurting, but he knows what he chose to do. He

just can’t help himself for trying to make Briane see how hard it was.” They passed by, their voices fading. Sometime after Briane came back out, and they were no longer playing music, Jason came over and sprawled comfortably in the chair Susan had vacated, knees wide, and one tanned hand casually on his thigh. After a meeting of their eyes, she turned her face—fully aware again of how many in the family turned and looked at them. “How are you?” “Grand. You?” She said those useless words, like his useless question, and felt his eyes on her face, on her shoulders, her legs, having worn a sport back green tank and denim shorts, her converse sneakers. Her hair was French braided. “Existing,” he murmured, and she glanced at him again. Mistake, since his eyes were very light blue between those sooty lashes. “How is Beth?” “Recovering from surgery. Better.” He nodded briefly, his stare openly going over her face before it probed hers. Body and soul conscious of him, longing for him. “I’m glad she’s doing better.” Briane looked away. “I like your boy, Jack.” “He likes you, too. He says, you asked him to sing with him?” “I did. He—looks just like you, except for his eyes.” “Yes.” They were silent some time, aching, having that so close and yet so far feeling. He murmured, “Although the family isn’t doing the usual 4th, we’re…some of us, are taking the boats out. I’m going to teach Jack to water ski, and we’re doing fireworks.” “That will be nice.” “You could co—” “—No. sorry. I’ve accepted an invitation from Nick, to go watch them at the fairgrounds…” Briane could feel the sharp tension emanating from him. Eventually he stared so long; she looked at him again, seeing a flash of pain before he hid it. Jason’s face was a bit tense. “You moving on…” “Yes,” her gaze was unflinching. ‘But not in the way you’re

thinking.” “It’s a marriage of necessity, Briane.” “I accept that. It is a commitment and vows, no matter what the reasons. This is a small town, and people will talk…” He commanded her attention visually. “I don’t give a good fuck what people say.” “I don’t either, in general. You have a son, and Beth is his ma. I assume he will start school in Diamond Back next year? Whatever the reasons, you and she are together, ever how much the family and those close to you know what it is, people like scandal. Jack is not going to understand. The only thing he does understand—is that his parents are married.” A muscle flexed in his cheek. “Beth explained it to him—” “He’s five, Jason.” His voice got harder. “So we’re not even supposed to be friends, Bri?” “We can…,” she said it, knowing it would never be that simple between them— and anyone paying attention would surely feel the chemistry. Gruffly, turning her head to glance at the others around, she supplied, “We’ll get through it, Jason. But we both know it’s a bit more complicated than before.” “Getting through it,” he said roughly, “sucks.” Briane got to her feet and glanced down at him, before walking on. “I’m going to do that song with Jack, and then I need to get home, and take care of house chores. I’ll see you on the fourth at the Mill.” His hand reached, touched hers before she passed by, she heard him say softly, “I think of you every day, Briane.” She admitted, “I try not to think of you. It rarely works.” Briane was on the front steps when she did the song with Jack. Of course, others gathered round—Mitch smiling rather proud when Jack delivered the chorus with her. Jason was there, his grin just as wide. It was he, who asked Jack to sing a bit louder and coached him a bit, praised him to the heavens. Now in that nest there was an egg, A rare egg, a rattlin' egg. With the egg in the nest, And the nest on the twig. And the twig on the branch, And the branch on the limb .And the limb on the tree

And the tree in the bog And the bog down in the valley-o. Briane held the boy’s eyes, winked, and smiled too. She cared for his father, so how could she not fall a bit in love with the charming little lad? Everyone clapped when Jack was done, and his chest puffed out. He laughed, “I only forgot one part.” “You did great.” She ruffled his hair. He nodded and ran off to play. Saying her goodbyes, later, she was on the blacktop, at her car, when Jason caught up. They were at the hood, Briane fingering her keys, having turned when he called to her. His thigh slightly against the grill. Jason murmured, “I wish we could go back. Wish I could. I’d hold you longer, kiss you deeper, and tell you what I felt…” Her throat locked a moment. “It wouldn’t change anything that is now.” She did reach up her free hand and touch his cheek, then that dent in his chin, her eyes locked with his. “It would be one less regret. Briane…This marriage isn’t forever.” “No. but it is.” She dropped her hand. The look they held was as deep as a kiss, as moving as a touch. Before she could say more, Briane turned to get in the car. She heard him thank her, saying she had made Jack’s day and that it had been his debut because no one could get him to sing without the other kids. Her eyes watering, Briane nodded and started the car, and pulled out—before she could fall apart. **** Briane worked a shift with Madeline, before the 4th, amazed, given the amount of energy going into the Mill’s July celebration, that the woman had the stamina. But Madeline not only had it, she was like a family member there, joking with patrons she’d served for years, kissing cheeks, laughing, and mock flirting with Nick, basically keeping everything upbeat. Briane waited tables in the sports bar area, waiting on some of the tourists who’d come to town. when she passed Madeline, the woman would mutter something amusing, or roll her eyes and wink at her, as someone at the bar got a bit loud expounding on debates about freedom, the civil war—and it was taking all of Nick’s blasé charm when he, as the bartender, got pulled into

heated debates. Nick, being Nick, managed to be just witty and funny enough, to diffuse any real arguments, and not offend those on either side of the debates. He often looked over and rolled his eyes or hid his laughter behind coughing, so it had Madeline and Briane both laughing often. It was one of the most enjoyable shifts that Briane had ever worked. Afterwards, she and Madeline lingered in the parking lot, talking, just decompressing from the noise. Madeline sat with her on the hood of the car, the both of them having grabbed huge cups of iced soda, having finished now. On a summer night, cars were coming into town, people heading to the cinema or restaurants, teens with their booming hip-hop, thumping, doing the cruise by. Pulling her T-shirt out a bit, Madeline sighed, “It’s going to be frying hot on the 4th.” “Feels like a thunderstorm tonight.” “Um.” After sitting awhile, in silence, Briane turned to find Madeline considering her with a soft smile. “What?” “Nothing. I was just thinking of the similarities of you and me, and Mitch and Jason. Circumstances are not the same, but— some women would bed Jason anyway, keep the thing going openly, knowing the marriage isn’t a love thing. But not you. Several in the family don’t understand why you don’t. I do.” Briane scanned his visage. “Jason should.” “Yep. It may hurt him, but yeah. He knew the risk.” Briane looked away and out into the lot. “Beth is fighting with everything in her. I sometimes think, she wants to get better to free Jason. She feels so guilty about it all.” “She shouldn’t.” “No. Coburn’s have a way of taking care of those who mean something to them. Jason is Mitch’s son. Doesn’t mean they don’t make bad choices, or go with their gut before anyone else can step in and offer options. When they do choose, they try to live with them. He wants you—but he knew he couldn’t have both.” Briane swallowed. “I understand his reasoning.” Madeline told her quietly, “The night after Beth moved in, they

were going to the Courthouse, the next day, to get married—It was really late, and Mitch got up, just had a feeling, he said… He went to Jason’s thinking to talk to him. He wasn’t home. Mitch looked for him and found him down at the lake, at the dock.” Madeline sighed heavily. “He’d gone through a bottle of Jack, and was all torn up.” After a moment Madeline said, “Don’t you ever imagine you weren’t hard to give up, Briane. When Mitch came home, I could tell he had been crying. I would wager, because Jason was. This wasn’t a trivial decision for him.” Briane felt her eyes sting. “He wasn’t easy to give up either. Every time I see him, come near him, I wrestle with that noble decision. I sometimes tell myself—if we go on meeting in secret, no one would ever know. They’d be no talk, and Jack would never find out or be confused. But he’s a kid and kids think their mom and dad being married…” Madeline slid off the hood, reached and hugged her tightly. She murmured, “I know you believe that. I know, more than any woman does. I did that kind of battle for 20 years. I sometimes wish I had given in before then, though.” She kissed Briane’s cheek and straightened. Briane slid off the car too, and walked Madeline to her vehicle. Once Madeline was in, she told her, “It would be easier, if I could hate Beth. Hate Jason. Blame someone. But I don’t and it’s not.” “I know.” Meeting Madeline’s eyes, before leaving, Briane offered, “I’ll be okay. And thanks—” She grinned. “For the talk and the best bloody shift I’ve had at work.” Chuckling, Madeline started her car. “I enjoyed it too, Irish. Come by after the 4th, hang out with me and Ruby, we’re going to be canning and making jelly. You’ll laugh your ass off if nothing else. Ruby won’t let anyone get too maudlin; her dry humor will have you peeing yourself.” She winked and backed out. Briane headed home shortly afterwards. Her light moon dissipated. She walked into a silent house. Kiera and Mora was no longer there to break the quiet. She put on music, showered and lay on her bed. Temptation was too strong. She got up and reached under the bed, bringing her stash out.

Briane spent too many hours, almost until dawn—going through it. She fell asleep with tears on her cheeks, the sound of Jason’s bass coming over the DVD player, the home movie on repeat… He was singing at the July picnic, one of the last movies Brook had sent her. Jason had a flat top guitar, and was sitting on a picnic table, while the breeze fluttered leafy branches above him, making dappled shade over him—his eyes on the lake. Brook told her Max had set the camera up in various places. Jason probably hadn’t known he was being recorded. Her eyes clung to him, in the flesh, clung—to his meditative profile as he looked out over the lake…and softly sang, (In this life) For all I’ve been blessed with in this life …There was an emptiness in me……………The only dream that mattered had come true In this life, I was lov—ed… by you

Chapter 18 Jason was already dressed, to go to the Mill, and do the morning set, except for putting his shoes on. Coffee had already brewed when he entered the kitchen. He got a cup and padded up to the balcony, finding Beth there, sitting in one of the lounge chairs, her cup steaming between her palms. She looked better today, absent the glazed look from all the meds. He was aware she was weaning herself from the painkillers since her stitches were healing. She had gotten her haircut yesterday; one of the hairdressers in the family had come by and done it for her. She and wore a pair of soft shorts and thin strap shirt. Relieved she was through the worst, he was still reminded of what she had gone through for such a young woman. Life was not fair to Beth. It asked a lot from her… “You sure you’re going to be okay?” He glanced back from the rail. Knowing, he had asked her that a dozen times a day. “Fine.” She smiled. “If you feel like it, later, call, and I’ll come get you, bring you to the lake.” “Okay.” “The other truck is here—if you feel like—” “Jason.” Her expression, of exasperation. “Go, sing with your family, have fun with them, and with Jack. I’m doing better. The initial tests were good after the surgery. Please…” Jason nodded and turned around again, his eyes closing a second before he opened them, and took a needed drink from the coffee. He knew he was being overly solicitous. But, Christ... he had watched Beth go through sheer hell, the past two weeks. Between the chemo and the surgery, the throwing up—at times so weak she’d fall to the floor. Always—so stubborn she would insist she could get herself to and from the bathroom, instead of just letting him know to help her. Or, that she could fix Jack’s breakfast, or do her laundry, or whatever the hell it was. “Jason.” He turned and cleared his expression, having learned quickly not to show his pity and compassion—not to show everything he felt. Beth, in her guilt for agreeing to the marriage, searched and read him constantly—apologized daily and cried many times—

because, she was aware of what giving up Briane did to him. How often, he struggled not to get in his truck, and go to her… “I want to go see her.” He felt his heart jump. “Briane?” “Yes. I want to explain…” “I have, Beth. She’s—” “I know. I know, because I understand her,” Beth cut him off emotionally. “But I want to tell her and talk to her, face to face.” He was shaking his head no. Beth went on, “I owe it to her.” Jason felt his throat closing, his gut getting tense. “I did this, and I don’t regret it.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. “Oh, Jason, you should. We both should.” “You’re alive, Beth. You beat impossible odds. I have every confidence those other tests will come back cancer free. I don’t regret this, and neither should you.” “There must have been another way…” “It doesn’t matter.” She opened her eyes, her head still on the cushion. “It matters. And I want to see her.” “She’s doing a set and then…I think she has somewhere to be tonight.” She visually searched his face. Jason muttered, “She’s going out with Nick.” Beth’s look was dry. “Not a date. No way. And I’ll bet she made that clear.” “How do you know I talked—” “—Jack told me.” She grinned. “He said, after telling me how pretty and nice she was, and how she talks—about her singing with him—said, she touched Daddy’s face, just like you touch mine sometimes.” Her eyes watered, “I know what that kind of touch means.” His eyes stung, so Jason turned again and leaned his elbows on the rail. “Go if you want, but don’t…” “—I want to talk to her about what’s between her and me, Jason. I promise, I won’t say more.” He nodded. Beth encouraged before he left the balcony, “Have fun today.

Don’t worry about me. I may see you later.” Jason went below and finished getting ready. He was in his truck, guitar in the back, and driving toward the mill, pondering that conversation. Briane was right; he did have feelings toward Beth. In those times he was not mourning the loss of Briane, he worked through the issues of fathering Jack, issues about why he’d picked Beth up that weekend, and walked away—without a backward glance, walked, to the next girl and the next girl. More—why he ignored the fact that Beth obviously was not a pick up type. He worked through a lot of who he was then, and where all of that came from. Beth had talked much of where she was emotionally then too. He was one of three men she had ever slept with, two she had loved deeply. Sometime, between the tense and heartbreaking hours of her illness, they’d become friends. Many times, when she had a good hour or two, and they played board games with Jack, or she watched them swim, they’d laugh and joke. She filled in Jack’s baby years—her albums and things there in the spare bedroom. He learned she was a talented artist who got into teaching instead. He learned—she had never had it easy, and had gotten few breaks, obviously. After meeting her parents, the both of them in ill health, Jason saw how little family Beth had, and how she tried to protect them from her struggles. Yeah. He admired her a lot. Jack. Jack, had his heart. The boy was hungry for male attention, and loved Mitch as much as he loved Jason. He could push the boundaries at times, but he was a Coburn, and that’s what they did. Overall, Jason found it all too wonderful to eat his cereal with Jack in front of the cartoons, in the morning, to play and romp with him, or read to him at night. He liked to watch Jack with his mother, with the other kids, playing, and he fell more and more in love with him every day. Reaching the Mill, Jason parked near Mitch’s camper then climbed out, and got his gear. He made it to the front in time to stand and watch Briane and the boys. They were in all white, except Briane had the red and blue, in her sash, of the long summery dress. She was barefoot, and her hair was down, she was seated on a rustic bench, and played the dulcimer during the first set.

The crowd roared and clapped afterwards, and he watched her stand and bow. The welcome breeze from huge well-placed fans teased strands of red brown hair toward her cheek and brow. The simple cotton dress, her bare feet, the wind in her hair—flutes, guitar—and her distinct Irish voice, singing a ballad about the Irish in the civil war, made Jason want to run up there and pick her up and whirl her around, kiss her—carry her off, to the cool, high mountains and roll in the wildflowers….dance, with herin the streams… He set his guitar at his feet and clapped. For their last one, the boys put down their instruments and came to flank her. Briane, in the center, and each of the three sharing a mic, as they prepared to sing acapella. When her haunting voice began (An Old Irish Blessing), it seemed a hush went over the far spread crowds. For all the dew was just drying on the hills, it was as if everyone hushed to listen. Her eyes were closed, and the song poured from her soul. The men coming in on harmony were softer. Jason felt the hair raise on his arms, he suspected many people did. The last note floated and the applause thundered. When he went back stage, Briane was coming off, and though he was headed toward Mitch and the others, he stopped to praise the group, and couldn’t help but reach and take her hand a moment. He didn’t know what he was saying because her pine green eyes still held the magic that singing brought to her soul. Briane squeezed, held on for seconds, before they let go and he went on. He saw her again, when he was on stage, she wore sandals and that dress, and was sipping frosty water, just to the right of the crowd. He sang the songs rehearsed, but couldn’t take his eyes off her. During a brief break while Deege changed a broken banjo string, and Mitch and Coy joked with the crowd, he spoke without words to her, before she turned away, making her way toward the parked cars…and faded from his view. **** Briane had a few hours before Nick would come over. She’d come home, eaten, showered and changed into a pair of comfortable cut-off denims, and cool, cotton sleeveless shirt. Her hair, she clipped up. She was emerging from the bedroom when

the doorbell rang. Padding there, she flipped the alarm off and opened it. “Hi. I’m Beth…” “I know.” Briane thought the woman looked more fragile than the first time she’d seen her. She was still attractive, and though thinner, her shorter, brown hair was in nice nape-length style. It was only when she looked at her brown eyes closer, her smile, the strain of her illness, showed. “Come in.” “I…I don’t...didn’t want…to bother you.” Beth offered. “You aren’t. Come, we’ll sit on the back deck, it’s cooler.” Beth followed her through the house, and out the French doors. Briane offered her something to drink and Beth accepted. When she had made them iced sodas, they sat across from each other, in lawn chairs. Beth leaned forward, elbows on her knees, cupping the frosty glass. “I came to see you at Sunny’s. One of your shows. I find your songs and music… very uplifting.” “Thank you.” “Inspirational too, considering. I’ve listened to the CD you cut a lot.” The woman looked around, and then her eyes landed on Briane’s. “Briane, I’m sorry. I’m sorry—for what I’ve done, to you and Jason.” “Don’t be. You haven’t—” “No.” Beth sat back, still looked at her with a different kind of pain in her eyes. “I always identified with those heroic women in the movies, the kind who’d sacrifice herself for the entire village and shit.” She laughed without humor. “At least, I thought of myself as that type. But when you’re gazing at death and there’s only one way you might survive…” She swallowed. “I sought out Jason for Jack. I never thought I would. But that’s all that mattered. None of this other—was supposed to have happened…” “You needed help, Beth.” Beth nodded. “I didn’t really know Jason. Or the Coburn’s, the way they were. The amazing way they are…” Briane said softly, “They care about people, and they take care of their own. They’re good people.” “Yes. Brook and Max have…they caught up the past bills that were in collections. I thought everything would be okay. I never

intended for Jason to feel obligated to me. When the insurance dropped me, I just…I was ready to give up, stop fighting.” Her eyes filled. “Jack was going to be okay, so I could have done that.” “But Jason wouldn’t let you give up?” Beth nodded again. Her eyes skimmed Briane’s face. “I fought the offer. I resisted. I did not want to consume, or wreck his life, and that’s what fighting cancer is—consuming. Or, come to between something he had with you. I was in an emotionally vulnerable place. Despondent —almost ready to just let go…” “You don’t have to explain to me, Beth. I would do the same thing. I would have.” Beth blinked back her tears. “I’ve made mistakes in my life. Choices, that I don’t really understand now, because of silly fears, stubborn insecurities, whatever. Not Jack, I don’t consider him one. Nevertheless, I had a chance to be with someone who loved me, twice. I pushed those men out of my life, because I was determined to go it alone. Looking back, I wish I’d have grabbed those opportunities with both hands and just trusted my heart.” She rolled her lips. “The first time I fought this, I was like a warrior. Hell, I dared it to kill me. But even afterwards, after winning, I did the same self protective things, when it came to my intimate relationships.” “I’ve been there myself.” Beth smiled slightly and looked out at the yard. “I’ve heard that. Brook and everyone told me, about you. About the fragile place, you and Jason were when I crashed in. Briane—when I got the test results, it may as well have been a death sentence—and all I thought of was Jack.” “As I would, have thought of my own son.” “Jason’s a good father. Jack thinks he’s the sun and moon, and vise versa.” “I could tell.” “I was okay with Jason stopping in, yet I was aware I’d interrupted his life—and what you two had. When GW came over to help around the house, he found many problems with it. It was supposed to be my nest egg, sold, if…anything happened or I needed the money. However, even with repairs, after we had it appraised, and in a terrible market, it wouldn’t have brought half what I had paid for it. To put it bluntly, when the insurance was

dropped, I didn’t see myself as having anything at all to rely on. Mitch and Madeline had flown my parent’s up. God that was emotional. They were so torn up, and I was trying to be brave… Lord, you just had to be at my house, to feel what a day that was. Jason, put the solution out there. Of course, my parents jumped on it, with desperation…” “You’re their child, Beth. You’re a young woman…” Beth shook her head. “I went a little crazy—out of their presence, I went from complete despair to deciding that was it, I’d fought all I could. I was trying to accept death gracefully…” “Oh, Beth.” “But Jack…he was crying and begging Jason to do something, and my Dad was on his knees praying…” Briane got up and went to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t blame you, Beth. I don’t hate you. “ Beth took her hand and thanked her. Then, still holding it said, “Thank you, Briane. I’m not sure I would be as generous, in the reverse.” “You would.” Briane smiled. Releasing her hand, she sat again. “How are the treatments going now?” “Good. I had a hysterectomy and they took a few other organs I can live all right without, just to be safe.” Beth laughed dryly. “I’m over the hump, or so they think.” “That’s wonderful.” “Yes.” Beth agreed, and then said, “I’ll have to do the preventive chemo for awhile longer. It makes me sick and weak, but I know what odds I’ve beat—twice—so I can stand it.” “You’re more the heroic figure than you think, Beth.” Those brown eyes considered Briane again. “I’m trying to be now. Now that the panic and chaotic emotions have calmed, I have time to think, to accept, that I will get this second chance and I’ll live.” She laughed. “It’s funny, I was always about working hard, earning everything I had, my modest job and house and car. I have nothing now. And, even though Jason’s insurance will cover most of the medical, and he’s paid more than I think he could have afforded, to doctors, and all the extra you don’t think about…the house, and my car, brought a little.” “You’ll get on your feet again.” Beth said, “That’s what I want. I want…I need to.”

“Give yourself time. You’re still getting treatments and you’ve been through hell.” “I feel it.” The woman sighed and then set the glass down. She walked to the banister, gazing out at the wooded lot. As Beth talked more, about growing up, and her past, Briane realized they had many things in common, both single mothers, both independent women, self protective, making mistakes, picking themselves up. She gathered as she listened, that Beth worked hard to get through college and get her masters. She’d wanted to be an artist, but ended up teaching. She had loved deeply, made mistakes, and those men were now married. Having been snatched up by wiser women than she, was how the woman put it. Briane wondered to the deck steps, sitting and listening— knowing why Beth was telling her story, hearing again the struggle she had in accepting Jason’s solution. Yet Briane felt admiration for the woman too. She understood that agonizing love between mother and son, the will to live, the promises one makes—if they had just one more chance. Beth said, “I heard the town gossip. I felt terrible, because I knew you were hearing it too. And I could see it was tearing Jason up. People who knew the two of you were together, or at least that Jason had something for you…” “I ignored it.” “It happened, because of what I’d done. I remember sitting in Rafael’s at lunch with Jason, and overhearing it, staring at him as he was too, and all I could say was that I was sorry I had done that, brought pain to both your lives... Yet how could I be sorry to be given that lifeline? It was a horrible feeling…” “People can be cruel, Beth. They can be catty. I never blamed you. Honestly. I understood.” Briane could tell Beth was looking down at her, when Beth said, “Jason didn’t show it in front of me or Jack, that it bothered him. He took care of the both of us, worked, does his shows—as ironic as it is—I have discovered what a wonderful man he is. He held me when I was sick and puking, carried me when I couldn’t walk, made me laugh…and sat with me, prayed with me—when I was most afraid…” “I’m glad. He’s your son’s father. Your husband now.”

Beth came to sit next to her, their sides close. She took Briane’s hand again. “Legally he is, for the reasons I told you. But you must believe me, Briane. There’s no romance…” “You don’t have to—” “No, I do. It’s part of the reason I came to see you. To say how sorry I am. Also, to clear up any notion you may have that Jason is falling in love with me, or vise versa. Hell, I have been a mess since we have been together, sick most of the time. We have become friends because of Jack too. I can’t help but love Jason for the good person he is. For how good he has been to me. But it isn’t romantic love.” Briane nodded, though she wouldn’t let herself think of that. There hadn’t been any point in it. Whatever she and Jason had, ended, and maybe someday they would just be good friends too. Beth was rubbing her hand, and Briane eyed those pale fingers, saw the bruises still coloring the top from IV’s, and imagined Beth was still in pain, still fighting, and look how strong she was… “You’re in a hurry now that you’ve fought the worst. You want to make it on your own again; I get that, but rest and recover, look at your options. Then take it a step at a time.” “I will.” Beth nodded. “But please, I can tell Jason cares for you. I believe you do for him. Don’t give up.” Briane avoided answering by taking their glasses to the sink. Then she and Beth talked of other things, Beth asking about Liam, and asked to look at his pictures. They talked about Kiera and just —life. The doorbell chimed again. Briane excused herself to let Nick in. he stepped in the cool interior, dressed nice, in a buttery cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up, and jeans, weaved sandals. He noticed Beth standing a bit to the side, and Briane introduced them. Hiding whatever surprise he had at Beth being there, Nick asked, “How are you?” “Much better.” Briane said, “Let me get my things…” and left hearing them talking. She got her purse and checked her makeup, did the check of all the windows and such. When she entered again, they were seated on the sectional;

Beth was studying a bracelet Nick wore. “You did this?” “Yes. It’s more of a hobby now. Ruby has always been the true artist.” “What she did at Jason’s is amazing.” Briane turned the coffee pot on to auto brew about the time she’d get home, and saw Beth trace the design on the bracelet. She was saying, “Such detail. You’re being modest.” Nick laughed. “Thanks.” He saw her and Beth did too. They stood. Briane asked, “Did she tell you she was an artist?” “No. I teach—taught it.” Beth insisted. “Modest.” Nick said, and then grasp her arm as Beth swayed. Briane had taken a step toward her too… “Are you alright?” Beth managed, “Fine. I just get dizzy if I stand too fast.” Nick’s brow furrowed. “Should you be driving? We could take you home.” “I’m fine.” She looked at Briane. “Can I use your restroom a moment?” “Sure. May I get you something—” “No.” The woman laughed, waving, and making an obvious attempt to appear fine. Yet she was paler. She went to the restroom. Exchanging a look with Nick, Briane murmured, “She’s not well. She’s pushed herself too soon…” His brown eyes were going toward the direction Beth had taken when Nick nodded. “We should at least follow her home.” “Yes.” Beth emerged, her hair damp as if she’d splashed her face. Outside, Nick told her, “We’ll follow you home.” However, Briane said, “You drive her, Nick. I’ll follow.” “No really.” Beth looked between them. “I’m okay. I swear to you…” “Indulge us.” Nick bestowed a charming grin. Then he went to her vehicle, holding his hand for her keys. Briane laughed, getting into her own car, hearing Beth mutter about overbearing men. Briane pulled out behind them and could

tell that Nick and Beth talked a lot on the way, and at a red light, before Copper Creek, they turned to each other and were laughing. Briane mused that Nick Peyton was one of the most interesting people to talk to. She felt a bit odd later, sitting in Jason’s driveway, waiting for Nick. He rightly insisted on walking Beth inside the house. When he got in the car with her, he muttered, “Tenacious woman. I can believe she beat cancer twice.” Briane backed and turned back out of Copper Creek. “She’s really nice, and amazingly brave.” Briane told him the whole of the conversation. As they drove to the fairgrounds, about forty minutes away from Diamond Back, Nick and Briane talked a lot about the Coburn’s and their loyalty, what family meant to them. Later, after a great, much-needed evening of hot dogs and sodas, and watching fireworks with child like amazement, Nick drove on the way home, and the conversation was quieter, brief, over the music on the radio. Before he got into his own car, eyeing Briane, who stood in the night air watching, Nick said, “Your mind was on Jason Wondering where he was, what he was doing.” She shrugged. He grinned and came to her, kissing her cheek. “Hang in there, Irish.” She laughed, hearing him call her what they did at the Tavern. “It was a great night.” “Yep.” He was getting in his car. “We’ll do it again sometime.” Waving him off, Briane heard her cell ring. She turned and dug in her purse for it. Sitting on the front porch steps, eyeing the landscape lights, she answered it. “Hello?” “Hello…” “Jason…” She breathed out a long slow breath. “Did you teach Jack to water ski?” “More or less.” He snorted softly. “He was more interested in eating watermelon, and romping with the other kids. He’s only five so…I’ve got plenty of time.” “Yeah. Did you watch fireworks?”

“Umm. Did you?” “Yes.” “I called to check on Beth. She told—she came by…and about Nick seeing her home.” “Is she all right?” “Fine. Just pushed herself. She’s like that.” He sighed. “She’s great. You know? I like her.” “She likes you, too. She said you were…that she could see, why I…” Briane swallowed. The night air was welcome after a sweltering day. The day had been great, but for the absence of Jason by her side. She couldn’t help saying, “I missed you, tonight.” He groaned softly. “I miss you every night.” She arched her neck, gazing up a moment. Then lowering her head, whispered roughly, “I told Beth to go slow, get herself strong and all that. Jason, you’ve got to do this right, for Jack.” She blinked against tears. “Ending the marriage, you mean?” “Whatever… I, we can’t…” “Yes we can. You can count on that, Briane.” “Oh, Jason. We are different. We’ve changed, things have.” “Not what matters.” He insisted gruff too, “Beth has this pride, this idea she has to pay me back every cent. She’s okay with whatever I do for Jack, but she’s not used to depending on people, nor taking anything…” “I got that. Beth deserves her pride. She has earned it. You have to let her do what she feels is right. But the both of you are going to have a hard time getting Jack to understand things.” “Maybe. Beth talks to him about it, and she swears he understands it. I mean, we have talked about him staying with me afterwards, so she can get on her feet. Neither of us are afraid the other won’t keep their word. She knows I’d never keep him from her…” “Still…” “Briane…” She could hear his subtle breaths and hear the sounds of the night. “Where are you?” “At the lake, still. Jack wanted to go home with Jude, so I’m

here, sitting on the dock. The moon is hiding…” “I’m on the front porch, Nick just dropped me off.” Silence, then his voice dropped an octave, “You could drive out here. We’d sit and talk…” “Do you honestly think we could do just that?” “No one would know or care, Bri…” “Jason…” He breathed out. “Do you touch yourself?” Her body went hot. “We can’t do this. Your life is…” “Did you, when you looked at all those pictures?” “You know about those?” Her forehead in her palm, Briane groaned. His voice was soft, sweet, deep, “I saw them, yeah. Don’t mind, okay, Bri. It—it did something to me. It explained so much of what I felt when we met. And yet, it amazes me that you—” “That was fantasy, Jason. Some—distant—” “Hope?” She said nothing. He murmured, “I want you so bad I can hardly breathe. I’m lying back, gazing at the sky. I know what the reality is, at least for awhile… but let me fantasize, just for a little bit…” Briane body responded, picturing him, his night-bathed, sundark skin, picturing it as he stood in the shower and she’d…She breathed shakily, “I took all the pictures out the other night, watched all the movies…” “And did you—” “I cried myself to sleep.” “Oh, baby.” He moaned. “Let me come there and hold you. Let me, Briane. His voice caught roughly. “Don’t cry. Please, I can’t stand it. I know I’m a fuck up. I’m sorry…” “I’m not….” But she was…”And you’re not.” She thought he was crying—when he managed, “We were so close Briane, a breath away. Tell me I’m not wrong. I know I did this, made these choices…as right as they were, they’re why I’m here, and you’re there—and we’re not touching and holding each other.” She bit her lip. “You’re not wrong….” “If I had just that day…a few hours, until we could have talked. After all that passion, we were—”

“—Jason, don’t…” He shuddered out a breath. “You know, the Coburn’s sing to their women. We sing when we can’t find the words to express what we are feeling. Or when music says it better than we can…” “I can’t take that…” “Please, Briane. It is a connection we have. Sing with me again. I was already going to do the set by myself—most of the family is taking their vacation. Coy and Brook are headed to the beach and Uncle Jude…” “You mean at the Tavern? People will talk.” “To hell with that, Bri. Look, Beth will come, okay? She already said she was going to, she’s a fan.” “Then, you sing to her.” “Baby.” his voice was hushed. “Do you really mean it like that?” Briane started sobbing, “What do you want me to do, Jason? What! I’m barely hanging on some nights as it is. Don’t you think it took everything I had to let you in? Don’t you know what you did to me when you touched my soul and gave me the strength to do that show—exactly as I did. To finally, finally, make peace with Adam after I’d fucked up? You…damn, you made me dream, and hope again.” She sobbed, “Don’t you know what you did when you made love to me—you took me apart, you exposed what I’d been feeling before I ever met you. Oh God—haven’t I been understanding and fair, enough? Haven’t I been—” “Bri, baby…I… She buried her head in her arms a moment, hearing him calling her, but she cried, “Don’t you think that I need and want you here? That the day after we made love, like that, so passionately. The day after I put on that show like that—was a day my heart was completely open—” “Mine was too, Briane—” “I never had anyone understand so much of who I was, and be so there for me, creatively, the music, the fact that you didn’t judge my past…The lovemaking…no man touched me like you did. No one took me that high…” “I was so high, so intoxicated, too, by you, Briane. By what I thought was a possibility—”

“You know what you feel, doing the responsible thing, the decent and compassionate thing—the struggle you have with wondering what you gave up, or may have sacrificed? Wondering —how to do what you must, and do this—trying to keep some connection between us. You have no idea how hard it was, and is, for me to go back to having no one—after having you… “Briane…” “I’m a strong woman, Jason. I have come some painful miles. I can do this. I fucking should be able to do this. But I can’t, if you don’t help me. We don’t know when someday is. We don’t even know, if we’ll ever be together again.” “You’re wrong Briane. We will be.” She raised her head, wiped her cheeks and pulled herself together, though her voice was thick with tears. “The part that makes me so crazy, is that, the night I held you in your truck, the fact you did do what you have done for Beth, only deepens what I feel about you. It reminds me—of what I don’t have…” “You do, Briane.” He sounded as emotional as she did, “I’d come there and get on my knees and beg you to wait…just wait...” “You want more than that, Jason.” “I do. I want you. I want you so bad right now; I’d crawl through the fucking phone to get to you. I want to hold you tight and change those tears to smiles. I want to bury myself so deep in you and make love to you until we’re both drenched.” He sucked in a breath, released it unsteady. “But you’ve got it in your head I’d be betraying something. And you can’t respect someone who does that. And I don’t know what to do either, but desperately—” “—You have to think of Jack.” “I do Bri. I have. God!” He screamed it so loud, she was sure it was echoing over the lake. His breath was heavy from that cry when he said, “You wanted me, Briane. Me. And this is me…” She realized he was crying now. Jason rasped, “I have nothing else, Bri. What the fuck. I’m stripped to the bone from this…” The phone clicked off. Briane sat there, pouring out more tears, before she went in and washed her face. She brushed her teeth and changed into loose cotton pants and a T-shirt, flip-flops. She freed her hair and tucked it behind her ears after brushing it then got her keys and

left. All the way to the lake, Briane shivered and felt the wind batter her raw cheeks. A streak of lightening lit the sky. Thunder rumbled and cracked like a whip. She was hardly conscious of the miles, and turning off to Copper Creek, that the downpour started. It was so thick her wipers barely helped. She drove through it, and turned off again, heading to the lake. It was around 1 Am, still humid, for all the sky poured down buckets. Parking, she saw Jason’s truck through a thick curtain of rain. Briane ignored the runnels of water that wet her shoes and feet, just as she ignored the rain that drenched her hair and clothing. She peered at the truck, but turned during a boom of thunder, seeing by a lightening arc, that he was on the dock. Walking that way, noting his knees were up, arms on them, and his head down against them. Even over the loud clatter of a thick rain, she could hear him crying. Briane reached the weathered boards and left her muddy shoes at the edge, her thin pants and shirt sticking to her, face deluged. She reached him and went around, grasping his head, lifting it and seeing those tears and rain merge on his cheeks before she kissed him. His arms went roughly around her, his body falling back, taking her with him, and the kiss was as wild and deep as the rage of the storm. Her hands on his head, Jason’s splayed at her upper back and spine, their legs tangled, his covered in soaked jeans and hers in thin wet cotton. He was warm, his torso bare. They trembled with intense emotion. When their mouths and tongues could not be satisfied, Jason was dragging up her shirt, and she was unlatching his jeans. Mouths, panting breaths, lips—scored rain-drenched skin, down throats and over shoulders. Their clothing roughly was peeled away until there was only skin on skin, washed, and bathed, from heaven. Rivulets slid over his muscled legs and down her graceful back. Drops released from his hair, as he rolled her under him. Rain beat against the flexed muscle of his shoulders, the tautness of his ass. Arms braced, Jason kissed her hungrily, deeply. Briane legs parted, calves locked against his hips. Lightening seared the sky. It sizzled the moment he sank

himself inside her warm and snug sex. the cries from her lips, neck arched, matched the one he uttered in echo, his hips pulling back, driving in, hers arching up over and over, nails leaving marks in his upper arms. Booming thunder shook the earth. The weathered boards shuddered. The black sky unleashed its fury, unnoticed to the lovers. One browned, muscular, masculine body, flexing and thrusting in cadence to his fast pulse. one feminine form arching, hot at the core—vibrating from the pulsating fullness of fierce, velvet steel, plunging into her so deep and powerful, neither had an ending or beginning. They were one—Primal, soul searing—bone deep, more electric than the elements charging the atmosphere... Jason climaxed. Briane shuddered with him, feeling every pulse of his cock, her sex contracting along the length, his breathing dragging into his lungs, rasping in her ear, under the storm. He lifted his head; his palms braced down by her shoulders, hair dripping crystal rain, and eyes the lightest, and purest, aqua blue. Briane opened hers, held them locked deeply with his, both of them necked and bare to their soul. **** Briane did not meet Lily at Sunny’s. She was watering flowers and shrubs when a truck pulled in that looked like someone was doing bodywork on it. One of the fenders was black; the rest of it red, and it was an old model, several gray places where it was being sanded over bondo. Turning off the water hose, Briane watched a young woman get out, her spiral blond curls in a ponytail, wearing white short shorts and a thin strap green top. She looked pale, too thin to Briane, but she knew American girls were obsessed by body image. Still, as she walked rather tentative up the drive and toward her, Briane almost guessed who she was. She didn’t look much like Renee. The shape of her eyes, maybe, when she was closer. But they were a light hazel, and her face was heart shaped, classic bones, too thin. She wore no make-up, no lipstick, on her semi full lips. Her arms were folded in a somewhat self-defensive gesture. “Hi.” She stopped a foot from Briane and the circle of landscape stone. Briane smiled. “Hi.” She liked the shoes, black converse.

“I’m Lily…..” “I’m Briane.” “I know.” The smile offered was hesitant. “I um… I wondered if you were busy…” “No.” Briane waved her to join her and paused to roll the hose up. She said, “Go on up. The alarm is off.” She joined Lily on the porch, and after asking, they went to the kitchen and she poured them sweet tea over ice with lemon. Sitting on the front porch later, to enjoy the view of the flowers, idly watching kids on bikes come up to the corner and turn, Briane sipped—gathering that Lily sought her out for a specific reason. After a moment of studying her sneaker’d feet on the porch rail, Lily murmured, “I uh…came to see if you needed anyone to help with your band or anything…” Briane eyed her profile, deducing the curls were natural and the color, it was a bit like Coy’s, wheat streaked, and Jude’s. Musing that Lily’s previous life showed a bit, but with time, she would recover, Briane said, “I thought you’d work at the clinic.” “No.” The young woman looked at her briefly then away. “I can’t stand being in an office.” She smiled sardonically... “Renee knew that. She was just trying to find something for me to do…” “Do you play?” “Not what most…I like different stuff, than the family.” Briane thought on that. “So who do you dig?” “Um, at the moment, I’m really into Nickleback, but also love Gotthard.” “I like them too.” Briane got up. “So, you’re interested in music, or…” Glancing to where Briane leaned her hips on the rail, in order to engage her better in conversation, Lily offered, “I’d do whatever. Drive or whatever you need.” She worried her lip a moment. “Are you clean, Lily?” “Yeah.” “Plan to stay clean?” “For sure.” The laugh Lily gave was both tired and bitter. She said, “I guess because I came here and all, I should probably explain… I get what the family is about. I mean, I love them and all. They’ve been really cool, considering I never kept in contact… well with Renee at times, but Uncle Mitch and Jude, they tried to keep

up with me. Anyway, I was fucked up. Oh-um, sorry…” “Go on.” Briane smiled slightly. Lily nodded and looked out at the truck, having set the glass down by the chair; she absently fingered a leather band around her wrist. “Long before my Mom died—and I guess the family told you what she was like—I was into stuff. I mean, I had to live the life she made us, private school, recitals, all that shit. One reason I never showed, or told anyone, I was into music, was that Mom wouldn’t let us play guitar or anything cool, she made us take classical piano—Just anything that was—boring.” “It has its uses. A classical music background is—” “—Not for her. It was all about what people thought, people she was social with did that stuff. Nothing was for fun. But, to make it short, I’d started sneaking round at about twelve, listening to music I wanted to, wearing the clothing I wanted, hanging out where I wanted and staying out all night sometimes. As fun as that started out being, it turned out to be my first class ticket to drugs. By the time, Mom died—and—she did not tell anyone about the cancer, did not change a thing with us even knowing she was dying… Nevertheless, by then, I just needed an excuse to give my life over to it. I’d had friends—people, that hung out and we’d go to concerts, parties, take off and end up half way across the country.” “Dangerous.” Lily flickered a grim glance at her. “You’ve no idea. When you are into the culture of drugs, you don’t care. It was after she died, that Renee started talking to me—I was finally still and in one place, long enough to listen. And—more than ready to clean up. I think my brother’s are too, but they’re on opposite coasts right now… I was scared of the rehab, withdrawing and…I’d fucked my education.” “You can fix that.” “I have. I got my GED.” “So, what do you play?” “Guitar.” “You’re into grunge, metal, some Goth rock?” “Yeah. I thought if I could work for you—not for pay or anything, I got a little that Sunny loaned me.” She grimaced. “He said I had to pay him back by getting a job. But, I thought, since you do the college circuit, the festivals, I might be able to eventually hook up, with

people, form a band.” “Have you talked about it with Renee?” “Yeah. And Uncle Mitch. I think he got that I wanted to talk to someone—outside the family. He’s the one who told me to come talk to you about it. And Jason… Jason came over the other night and was working on something that screwed up those ancient lights in the farmhouse, and we talked while I held the flash light. Jason is pretty cool. We talked a lot about Mom, and the siblings, the way Mom kept my brothers and me from the family. How she… drove that wedge. His Mom is not so different. We circled around to talking about my screwing up, the rehab, staying off drugs. Jason is always talking music though. All Coburn’s eat and breathe it. I had an I pod as we sat on the basement steps; he wanted to see what I was listening to. That led to talking about and how I didn’t think anyone in the family really needed another band member, and I didn’t want them to take me into theirs just because I’m family.” “I get that.” Lily nodded. “So did he. I heard your music. I dig it. Though It was more about talking to someone other that family about it. Maybe seeing what you thought…” Briane asked her, “How old are you?” “Eighteen—nineteen, in three months.” Briane said studying her, “I think you should play what you feel drawn to. What you enjoy. Sometimes that changes as you grow older. However, if it is what you like, do it. Although, I also think—that where you are now, this soon, you need to take care of yourself, and spend some time thinking and writing—do you write?” “Yeah.” “That’s what you should do. Write, play, when you’re inspired.” She thought a moment. “You should do something outside music to earn your living, and let music be what you channel emotions into, your creative life. Spend time with the family, with yourself, go on walks, drives, whatever. But find where the music comes from. How am I doing so far?” “Making sense.” Lily smiled fuller. “Okay, so my sister, Kiera just opened a catering business—” “I heard. She dates Rafe…”

“Yes. She has some openings, everything from deliveries to dishwashing, to more creative stuff. You would be busy. I’ve been by there. It’s a great atmosphere, creative people, hip, lots of good energy—and good food.” Lily snorted. “GW says I look like a stick. I’m eating better, healthier. Renee brings stuff by all the time, she’s got me on all this organic shit…” “Yeah well, you’ll get to enjoy some beautiful and sinful sweets too, if you’re at Kiera’s. Just don’t tell Renee. However, if you want, we’ll go by there and I’ll introduce you. Kiera’s cool, she’ll listen to you and if you’re serious about working, and are willing to be responsible, she’ll find something that matches what you enjoy.” “That would be cool.” “And in your free time— the music, the inspiration. As you’re interacting, earning enough to buy tickets and go see bands.” Briane winked, “You’ll hook up with people who share your interest. People who are serious about it. Because this business and the poison go hand in hand. I know from experience, you have to have your head on straight and be about the music. If you do not, it can devour and destroy you. It is not for egotist, the weak and fragile. Not if you want to be in it for the long haul. It’s tough, and drugs or any other crutch, won’t hold you up for long. You got to know who you are—and where the well is that you draw from, when you’re shattered or drained.” Lily gazed over Briane’s face, her expression serious and pensive as she took that in. she nodded and said, “I totally get that.” “All right.” Briane smiled at her. “Stay clean, be up front and honest, and invest your time wisely. Patience is not something some of us have when we are young. Nevertheless, you have been on that rough road a long time, so you are perceptive enough to know you get what you put into something. That includes yourself.” She straightened. “I’ll give Kiera a call. We’ll swing by there.” Standing, Lily nodded. “Thanks. I really appreciate this.” “I know.” Briane touched her arm. “Thing is, I could have given you some trivial job with no pay, and someone not serious about their music would have jumped at it. However, that’s not going to do anything for you creatively, Lily. Nor help in getting on your feet and getting your life together. You have been out there, so you’re

an independent young woman. Now, you have to be responsible for both yourself, and for working toward what you want creatively. Trust me; you’ll have better songs, better experiences and all that, to draw from.” Within an hour, after Briane got her purse, they had driven to Kiera’s Katering, and Lily was in Kiera’s hands. Not so surprising, they hit it off, and Briane, having followed in her car, left Lily in Kiera’s hands, the two of them talking and Kiera’s showing her around the house. Briane drove into town and did some shopping. In her summer-day, casual clothing, her hair held back by sunglasses, feet in sneakers, she smiled at the flyers with the picture of “Briane” on them, now, having her boys in black around her in it. She was hailed and stopped to chat, and she got the stares and whispers that came because of her being formerly linked with Jason. Nevertheless, Briane found her peace in that storm, on that dock, just as Jason did. Those hours before dawn, bathed by Jason’s mouth and hands—as much as by the rain, loved by him, loving him, unleashing passions and taking them into the very core of herself—while the black thunder rolled across the sky— everything rolled back from the moment they had met. For herself, to the moment she looked at his face or heard his voice. In the unleashing and giving, there was the only truth that mattered, for either of them. Sunny had taken her quit notice that Monday, saying dryly, “I was about to fire you anyway.” She chuckled. “Why?” “Not because you’re not good, but because I became aware through Renee that you’d been turning down offers to appear at the folk and Gaelic festivals around the state, in order to work here. Not only are some of those paying gigs, their perfect for building your fan base—which I’ve also heard has exploded.” He reared back in his chair, eyeing her wryly, “I’m all for loyalty, but that’s just crazy. You should have told me. The Coburn’s and other bands have a thing worked out here, the deal is, when you are free, you come in and do a set, or whatever you have time for. I pay a flat fee.” He winked. “Because we’re friends, you’ll help me out in a pinch, if another act cancels…” “Absolutely.”

“Cool. Next part is, Madeline is coming back to work full time, so you’re not leaving me a waitress short—not that I don’t have a stack of applications, but I like having people here who feel about the Tavern, the way I do. It’s a second home. And you’ll come by and have a pint sometime…” “I will.” She smiled at him. He sat up. “I’ve also heard that in Aug and Sept, you can start the college circuit…” “The boys want to.” “You have that niche sound, Briane. They’re right. I’ve been on your web pages, you guys appeal to a wide audience. Between that, the festivals, appearing at the Mill.” He shrugged. “You’d be crazy to trade off your dream of performing for waiting tables. As I say, your home is here. Something changes, you come see me, I’ll put you back on the payroll, otherwise, you’re here to perform or to hang out and have a good time.” “Thanks.” His brow cocked with another smile. “There’s no need to thank me.” “Yes, there is. Between debuting me here, and my set at the Mill, I had a springboard for launching this new direction in my career. The truth is, it is not about fame for me. It’s about the music, and the people, and I would never have gotten this chance if not for you guys. I don’t want to go “on the road” other than these gigs.” “That’s what friends—and family, is all about.” Briane looked over his handsome visage. “You were also behind Kiera staying in America, getting her life back, and her Catering business…and her finding Rafael.” “I did that as much for Rafael,” Sunny supplied honestly. “One meeting with Kiera, and I saw everything Rafe needed. What she needed, too. I liked her a lot and thought, she was much stronger than she realized. But I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I just knew that putting them together on something—would lead to great things.” “You’re a terrific guy, Sunny.” He winked. “Thanks, Irish.” She got up and he did too. Sunny walked over to the window, murmuring, “Someday I’m going to cut that pear tree down and put

something more interesting to look at out there.” Briane mused aloud, “Everyone talks about your Ma, how close you two were. Why don’t you do a small memorial park or something? Just something with a couple of benches, a small fountain…” Glancing at her, his dark eyes were soft. “That’s a great idea.” She observed, “You and Renee, you make a good pair. She is amusing, full of energy, spit and fire too, passionate. Has that earth-mother healer side, the kind of hip and funky side. For all you have this intimidating persona, career—you are really a deep person,, dry humor, laid back, but always doing something.” “She’s the best temptation I ever gave into.” Sunny confessed smiling a little wicked. “She’s busy between the band and the wellness center, but she’s got enough energy to do that and more. Not, that I am not busy. I think that is why we don’t waste time on petty differences. We have a great time when we are together, at home relaxing or getting away, out with friends or catching lunch. We enjoy each other fully.” “I’ll bet.” She laughed. “So how is the baby making coming?” “We love the practicing.” He joked then, “We’re not making it center focus. Our attitude is, if it happens, great, if not, we’ll likely adopt. Given Renee’s interest in holistic stuff, she is all about us finding some spiritual or beautiful place when we’re trying for that. Otherwise, we just have passionate sex—and with Renee, you never know…” He laughed. “I envy you two.” Briane nodded and then looked around. “Well, Ill let you get back to your books. I’ll call as soon as I meet with the boys and we work out our venue for the next—however long. I’ll leave openings for doing sets here, come by for a pint and visit, and likely see you in Copper Creek. I also like to go see Brook and Renee perform, so I’ll call ahead and you can save me a seat.” He came over and hugged her, then stepping back, said, “We’ll see each other often, given I drop in on Kiera or go to Rafe’s, and like you say, the family things.” As she opened the door, he said behind her, “And eventually, you and Jason will be together, so we’ll be doing dinner and family things—.” She peeked over her shoulder, grinning. “Smooth.”

Sunny was chuckling as he shut the door. Briane got her things and stopped by for a quick word with Nick. The other bartender was there, so Nick met her in the back. It was cleaned, quiet, but instead of taking a table, they went over to the back exit, stepping outside—to enjoy the coolness of morning before the sun and humidity cranked up. Briane put her things in the car, and then came back, hands in her slacks pockets, having worn casual trousers, and sleeveless shirt, her sandals, and her hair was clipped up loose in back, strands blowing free in front and at her nape. “You’ll be glad Madeline will be working more.” “Always.” He grinned. “And I’ll get to catch you performing around at other venues. I’m always working when you’re doing sets here, and though I’ve watched some concerts at The Old Mill, my schedule never works, so I could catch you there too.” “We can share a pint.” “Most definitely.” She looked at his long lashed brown eyes, the blues and close-cropped beard, the handsome and mature lines of his face. “You were the one who got Beth interested in art again, weren’t you?” She had heard from Brook that Beth had been talking about it, going for long drives, to museums, art shows, festivals—reading a lot of material on it and stuff by people who had survived devastating illness. His cheeks flushed just a little. Nick was staring across the lot. “We had a few conversations. She stopped by a few times when she was in town.” He glanced at Briane. “She has the talent, the education, the only reason she didn’t further it, was that it’s an uncertain career, and she lacked a means, a direction, or particular art form. She had to make a living. I knew through Ruby, who only takes on certain commissions, that there was a void there. As a cancer survivor, and because of her personal struggles, Beth has a unique opportunity to create something with insight and depth. She’s faced death, challenged it. At some points of despair, she thought of ending the battle herself…” Briane looked at his tense face. “I didn’t know that. No, I think she did imply that when—” He nodded. “I think, having a son, considering what it might

do to him, made her go through the fight instead. In any event, I finally coaxed her into showing Ruby her sketches. She brought a few by. She is a visual genus, in my opinion—able to do with that, what Max does with photography. Although what I saw was in chalk, she paints. It is…tangible, perceptive, disturbing, but it should be. She needs to create through those emotions and feelings, paint it out, and purge it. Because where she is now, she wants to embrace life and give hope. There are treatment centers, as well as private collectors, who would buy her work, want it, for what it represents. In time, she’ll be ready for that.” Briane could see several reasons why Nick would be compelled to see Beth’s work, even drawn to it, to understand, even if it tormented him. Perhaps to see what his wife had felt in her despair and how or when she stepped over the line between death and life. Also, as having that understanding of the creative mind perhaps the need to do so, even if he used his as therapy to doubtless not look at it. She wondered if Nick knew what he was doing for Beth— aside from that—having someone show interest in your creative dreams, encouraging, understanding it, feeling it… Briane knew when Jason did that for her, it was soul changing. Long before she actually met Jason, he became significant to her journey…. She said softly, “It’s life changing when someone believes in you. When you have failed, made mistakes, floundered through life. Someone understands, forgives—gives you the courage to stand and face it. To look back at it, painful as it is—holds your hand through the process—or is that voice you are clinging to for courage. You can hold to it while you’re reaching down to the depths, so when you’re at a place of embracing it, using it, and can allow yourself to dream and hope again, you’re not completely broken, but stronger, reforged.” His brown eyes held hers, absorbing those words, listening. Therefore, Briane said, “There are very few people who understand that pain is multilayered, struggle is. Our worlds fall apart a piece at a time, or over a period a time—sometimes, all at once, sometimes a flood—or a series of painful and deep cuts, bleeding it out. If our hands are stained with guilt, we die just a little at a time, too. We loathe ourselves for giving in, giving up, and blame ourselves even for things beyond our control. We think…we

have more power than we actually do. We take on not only our mistakes, but also any residue of it to those around us, or those gone on. Guilt distorts things. In the dark, blind, sometimes we see this flicker of light, an anchor, a life raft, whatever—one voice, one face, something, someone —who, for whatever reason, gives us a glimmer of hope. We do not always understand why that person, why then, and not before, what they will turn out to be in our lives. However, we reach a point of looking back and seeing where they were our inspiration, our spark, a little bit of heaven’s light. Could be a stranger, a singer, an artist, a poet—a family member—whatever. However, we can see the light came at the perfect time—the time it should have. We get that second chance, had been given it. We get it this time. Where is the fear, after you have faced the worst? Where’s the worrying about stupid and silly stuff. The wasting and the being petty, and trivial? It is gone. We get to laugh at perfection. To see it for the illusion it is. The useless intangible— that it is. Now, it all makes perfect sense, that you were mended, rose up, for someone else, and someone else, and they for someone else. It is the endless circle of the soul, our humanity and connection, our oneness. That we can look at someone else’s pain, and give him or her what we could not give ourselves. What someone unknowingly will give to us. We forgive ourselves, we are forgiven, and we realize we are loved for who we are—because of those imperfections and mistakes, not despite them. It takes us being a part of life, a part of that circle of imperfect souls, who can see and feel and have compassion, empathy— understand and encourage—reach out to the next person. We give them the forgiveness we could not give ourselves. Without the judgments and tormenting sentences, we unfairly and harshly placed upon ourselves. For simply being human…” There were tears glistening and rolling sluggish down Nick’s face, silently pouring from his eyes. Briane reached up and touched his face and whispered, “Pureness and perfection doesn’t make a beautiful soul, Nick. Life and experience does. An understanding heart does. Do you know why…?” She felt her own eyes filling from the pain pouring from his. “Because love’s not a word. It is a life. It is something you

make every day, and something you grow inside of you—to nurture in those around you. Love is your soul, the weeping and the joy too. It is the part of us that can feel—as opposed to what our minds try and tell us with intangible illusions. The soul is wise. It recognizes love and thirsts for it, needs it to survive. It knows that without the breaking, there can be no place for the force of what’s to come. No room, no ability to contain the depth and intensity of the love that forges us, each, to another.” When Briane moved her hand, Nick leaned back against the building, fishing a handkerchief out of the back of his black jeans, to wipe his eyes and cheeks. He sucked in a thick breath from his tears, and looked down some time before he met her gaze. “Oh, Hell.” His in drawn breath held a shivering. Smiling tenderly, having wiped her own eyes, Briane cracked, “Too bad it’s morning or we’d share a dram of whiskey after that.” He laughed roughly and sniffed deep again, before reaching over, hooking his hand behind her head to pull her to him in a hug. She felt the squeeze, felt the heavy sigh and shaky breath, before he kissed her forehead. “I think you’re a little fey, and very deep, Irish.” She stepped back and winked. “Tell no one. “Then seriously, “I’ll see you this weekend.” Briane headed for the car. “Be safe.” He leaned there, and was still there, shoulders against the siding watching as she got in the Bonneville , and pulled out. Briane blew the horn before swinging out of the lot, driving to Kiera’s so that they could have lunch, and to spend a bit of time with Mora, before her schedule and very soon, the regular school year started consuming their time.

Chapter 19 Jason tossed his hard hat into the seat, grabbed his thermos and got out, walking tiredly up the steps. Inside he pulled off his work boots, put the thermos on the counter and was already peeling out of his work clothes on the way to the shower. Once he was out, he pulled on jeans and padded to the kitchen to make coffee, hearing that storm start outside that had been threatening all day, waiting for the fresh coffee to brew, he saw a note that his Dad and Madeline had Jack with them, they were up at the Mill, getting it ready for all the Christmas, shows that would be done at various times, and take the months till Christmas to complete, props, staging, so much to do. Mitch had said they were taking Jack to the movies afterwards, and he would be staying at their house, Jason could pick him up on Sunday. Carrying his coffee to the top deck, Jason sat back in a lounger, sipping, watching the rain pour and getting his tired mind awake. He was in a deep muse when Beth appeared. She was in slacks and a nice blouse, flats, and hair and make-up done attractively. Sitting on the lounger beside his, on the side and facing him, she said, as she cradled a cup she had filled, “I got a job.” He glanced at her. “Yeah?” Beth smiled, “And—” Reaching into a purse beside her, she handed him an envelope. “I sold a painting.” He knew there was money in there. “Beth, you don’t—” “Please.” Her eyes implored him. Jason sighed and laid the envelope next to his thigh. He had known it was coming since the tests came back clear. Honestly, it was a toss up some days since, which of them would look at the other and feel the most torn, living with the situation. He’d known Beth was not the kind of woman who wouldn’t want to make her own way. Moreover, after they registered Jack at the Diamond Back Elementary school, she was rarely home, nor was he, between work, preparing the Mill for the holiday thing, singing with the group. They had their days with Jack, but Jack was just as often off to Jude’s or Mitch’s, playing. He thought about that Fourth of July—that following dawn— him coming in, gaunt face and hollow-eyed. Beth’s having been

sitting in the living area, and arising as he came through the door. “Are you okay, I was worried,” she had said and then gone and gotten him a quilt, because he had been quaking so bad his teeth chattered. Then fixing and handing him coffee, she’d eyed him closer and murmured, “I’ll see to Jack today. You go, sleep, and rest.” And, he had, going to his bedroom, shucking his wet shorts, and falling to the covers—sleeping for hours and hours… The sound of Briane’s voice haunted his dreams, in those parting moments, when the storm calmed… when she’d rocked him in her arms, and sang Forget me Not, by Lucie Sylva’s … Forget me not, I ask of you…Wherever your life takes you to. And if we never meet again. Think of me every now and then. We had just one day to recall…Now all I want is something more. Than just a fading memory…Left wondering what could have been. Isn’t it a shame, that the timing’s all wrong. You’re doing what you never meant to. There’s always something that prevents you…...Forget me not, I ask of you… He heard that song in his head, was torn up, every time. Jerked to the present, Jason heard under the hiss of rain as Beth supplied softly, “Nick sold it actually. He had asked me to come by the Tavern to pick the money up. And while we were talking, Sunny came in. he was listening to me say, that I really couldn’t make a living from selling a few paintings. I would doubtless get a few commissions but it would take time for me to do them, and so he said he had had this business investment… a gallery, in the business part of the city. The old section, that died out back when paddle wheelers plied the rivers. Anyway, it had more or less been a dead weight, but he asked Nick and I, to drive out there with him, and look at the part was being revived. There were some nice café’s and bookshops in those old buildings, seems it was rediscovered by the nearby college crowds. Anyway, we did a tour of the gallery. My degree is in art History, and I’d already talked with Ruby, a lot with Nick, about the local art scene...” Beth took a sip and murmured, “Long story short, Sunny said if I could revive the gallery, infuse something into it that would appeal to a diverse group, he’d put it in my hands.” “That’s great.” Jason grinned. “Yeah.” She sighed and smiled. “Of course, I had to get Nick to promise to help me, and he agreed to in his spare time. We’ll

do some tours of the festivals. I have called Ruby, because she’s current with everything. She would be invaluable to me, and has offered not only her pieces, everything from jewelry to stained glass, but will invest with Sunny—in it. Generous of her. I can’t thank her enough for how great she has been. Just looking around, I thought, there needs to be folk art, and new age, and a mixture of classic and cutting edge here. It’s a great old building, huge windows, a glass dome and balcony all around.” She added, “If we could get the city council to take an interest in demolishing what can’t be revived around it, put in parks along the river…. “And you could showcase yours there too?” “I don’t have much yet, but yeah, Sunny said that.” Jason noticed she wore a bracelet, amber glass with butterflies inside of it, unique. “Did you do that?” “No. Nick did.” She touched it and looked out at the rain. Studying her profile Jason murmured, “Hey, what’s up. I can tell there’s more…” She nodded and met his gaze, before saying, “I passed a little house on the way—it’s small but it has a sun porch, and it would be close to here and the schools. Of course, I have to get my finances straight—” “I’m happy for you, Beth. I know what this has been like—” Her head was shaking no, and she looked in her cup saying, “I call Briane sometimes. I mean, we call each other.” His breathing stilled for a second. “Yeah.” Nodding Beth confided, “I told her once, that her music inspires me. It does. I painted that first painting listening to those haunting tracts. She told me recently—that I inspired her, instead.” Beth cleared her throat. “I caught one of her shows, a week ago— and she sang Beauty from ashes, for me. I cried so hard, but it was like she looked into my soul…” Jason sat up and fumbled around, searching for a smoke. He found one in a lidded basket pushed near a planter. Restless now he paced a bit by the rail. Beth mused, “Briane’s out of town more than she likes to be. I think, the hotels and things—they bring back bad memories. For all Briane has been pretending differently—I believe it gets harder as the weeks wear on. I know you go on the site, and look at her schedule, keep up with every town, or festival, she’s playing.”

Yeah, and Jason would always pray the same thing, kick ass, and come home to me, baby. Come—where I can see you now and then…. Jason saw her on occasion, they spoke while going about their separate lives, work, playing music. He talked to her at his Dad’s. In town—he and Beth joined her as she had been having dinner at Rafael’s. Another time, she’d been at the park with Mora. He and Jack were there. They shared a bench, and watched the kids playing. He spoken to her, when he had gone by Kiera’s Katering to pick up Jack’s birthday cake, they’d talked about Renee and Sunny getting married finally. Laughing, because for all it would make the social pages and be a grand thing, Sunny was begging her to go to Vegas and elope. And, Renee was pregnant —with twins. They voiced their joy in that. Briane had stopped her car one day, having come from hanging out at Brook’s, and he was playing football with some of the younger Coburn’s, after mowing Mitch’s lawn, while his Dad and Madeline went out on a date. They had joked about his skinned up arm and dirty jeans, and the grass in his hair. He’d ribbed her over the stains on her shirt from Maddy trying to feed her carrots, and he had pointed out she had sticky sucker on her cheek where Maddy gave her lollypop kisses. They did that— since the night on the pier. In secret, between him and Kiera, her sister called him as he was on his way to work, and she was in her office and taught him a bit of Gaelic. That’s how desperately fucked Jason’s reality had become. That’s how thin his lifeline had become. Beth stood and walked to the rail, so Jason paused too, his elbows on it while he smoked tensely. She told him, “There are things not on that website. She’s leaving soon to watch Liam’s first concert with the boys’ choir. They call each other, almost daily, but that’s a milestone for him and his mother should be there.” “Of course.” Jason agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “She and the boys, the band, have been invited to Ireland, a radio show and concert in her hometown. I take it James is over the moon too.” “Despite her dislike of traveling,” Jason murmured,

“Everyone should have that moment of going back to their hometown a success, and she is one here. Her niche is well carved. Briane paid her dues on the road and in other bands. She should have that dream of going back among the bands she played with and getting that mutual respect of having made it.” Studying him a long while, Beth offered softly, as the rain tapered off, “You understand that—as much as you go a little crazy, every time she and the band leave town?” He had never hid that well, the time slow drag of time, and the absences. Jason said, “I do.” Still eyeing him, Beth murmured, “Well, that’s not really where I was going with this conversation.” Jason glanced at her, eyes skimming over her half smiling face—trying to bring the happy for Briane part of him, together with the other, gut tense, she’s going too far away from me…half. “She’s playing tonight, fifty miles from here, at the open arena.” Brian turned and walked over, getting her purse. “I’m going to change, crank your sound system full blast, and swim…maybe paint awhile, drink too much wine and celebrate.” She smiled over her shoulder. “Get lost.” Jason stood there only a moment before he scooped up the packet and went down the stairs. In his bedroom, he called Josh, then James too, while yanking down a black tailored shirt, dark stylish jeans. In a few moments, he was dressed in that shirt and those jeans, his cowboy boots on and his hair styled. He grabbed his keys, being blasted by the stereo playing classic southern rock when he walked through the living area. Soon though, he was in his truck, heading down the wet highway. **** Lights were up, since night had fallen around the crowded arena, people in the bleachers, and down on the oval field, sitting on blankets and some Indian fashion around the wooden stage set up in the center—having sat there all day through another round of bands, singers, musicians, listening to a mix of genres. High energy crackled though the masses, as with any weeklong music festival. Briane was on stage, wearing retro low-rise jeans with patches of peace signs and flags, a green halter top on her tanned torso. Her hair was loose, ruffling back in the night breeze. A

bracelet graced her wrist that Liam had sent her last week, of leather and wire-wrapped stone. The boys and she had played the other nights, traditional ballads, Celtic music, some pop. Briane had her acoustic now and stood by the mic, gazing for a moment around, at the distant square lights, smelling sweet mountain air mingled with sunscreen, foods from the concessions, a bit of sharp grass and earth from the shower that had moved through earlier. Closing her eyes, she absorbed the energy and tried not to think about her morning flight out of Tennessee—forever how long she would be gone. Some of the boys weren’t going; those with wives and family, but four of them would, and were excited and eager. She would get to see her boyo on the trip, watch him sing with the choir. Briane opened her eyes after breathing in and out. The crowds were thick. they blurred somewhat, as either the fatigue, the combination of leaving here, going home, going back as a solo artist—or whatever she’d been dealing with on this leg of performances, came home to her. And, of all the times to do so— that other ache reared its head, the private, personal one, she struggled to cover. She felt it so acutely that instead of doing the scheduled set they planned, Briane called Josh over and covered the mic with her hand, speaking in his ear. He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile, before going back to talk to each of the band members, who were playing a soft tune while the crowds settled down. James moved the mic stand for her. She was at the edge of the stage and within touching of those sitting on the ground, soft wind lifting her hair, blowing the leg of her denims against her calf, the hems brushing her bare feet. Briane strummed and the crowd hushed, save for an occasional whistle or yell from the back. She drew in a breath and closed her eyes. Briane spoke clear and deep, straight from her soul, “For Jason…”and it echoed over the crowd. Opening her lashes, gazing at the sky, she began the first lines of (When I look at you) Everybody needs inspiration. Everybody needs a song. A beautiful melody. When the nights are so long…'cause there is no guarantee, that this life is easy…when my world… is falling apart,

when there's no light to break up the dark…That's when I….I…I look at you. When the waves are flooding the shore. And I can't find my way home any more…That's when I…I look at you…) Her eyes peering back through time, Briane lost herself in the song, gazing out at the audience through eyes that were in a body flooding and flowing with passion, emotion…her heart in every word… When I look at you…I see forgiveness. I see the truth. You love me for who I am. Like the stars hold the moon. Right there where they belong. And I know I'm not alone… This time, as she sang the chorus, Briane’s head went back. Her eyes closed for seconds before she attended the crowd again… not knowing if that face she saw somewhere back in the crowds was real, or part of the emotion that gripped her. Her voice became drenched with feeling (Then you appear, just like a dream to me, just like kaleidoscope colors—that cover me. All I need… Every bre—ath…that I breathe. Don't you know you're bea—utiful —Yeah yeah. I look at you. Yeah—whoa—oh—you appear just like a dream—to me… At the last note, her hand fell away from the guitar. The crowds roared. Briane, her head down, was breathing in to gather herself, her other hand gripping the mic stand to steady herself until the ache soothed away. Oh, God help me. Briane heard the noise, whistles clapping—she needed to come back to herself, to finish putting on the show. **** The Coburn’s, sitting on the edge of the stage up the hollow at the Old Mill, with pick up truck doors open and radios up and on —had tuned to the station airing that festival. They stopped everything they were doing the moment Briane had said “for Jason.” Mitch murmured to Madeline, “She’s going to sing for him, Madeline. Briane is singing—to Jason.” He gripped her hand during the whole song… “I hope he’s listening.” Coy rasped, feeling the same wrung out pain the rest of them had since Briane and Jason started their separate lives. An attempt almost too anguished for anyone to witness. When the song ended and the applause and roars were still

sounding, Jack looked around and whispered, “Why’s every body crying.” Madeline smiled and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, hugging him a moment. “Nothing, baby. We’re okay…” He said muffled, before pulling back, “I know she loves my Daddy. He loves her too. Mommy says so.” As Mitch laughed roughly at that, suddenly GW cut in, yelled, “Listen! Listen!” And went down to turn the radio’s up louder… **** At present, Josh was playing a guitar intro—something Briane could not wrap her head around yet. She was breathing painful, begging her heart to stop aching. The loneliness always got worse when she was away from so much as seeing him, and the void got darker through the days and weeks that passed in this life of getting on, and going their separate ways. Then—suddenly, Briane heard it. She raised her head, searching somewhere in the back of the crowds— hearing a deep voice. Just as sudden, there it was….Jason’s image, holding a mic, walking down a path toward the stage made by those sitting on the ground. His stylish dark jeans, the boots, the black shirt, that wind tousled black hair…beautiful light blue eyes…real, there. The spotlight, all eyes, were on him, murmurs, whistles and claps were rising. a few screams and gasps of surprise and shock…Jason Coburn singing (Here without you baby—(A hundred days have made me older, since the last time that I saw your pretty face. A thousand lies have made me colder. And I don't think I can look at this the same…..But all the miles that separate, Disappear now, when I'm dreaming of your face I'm here without you baby…but you're still on my lonely mind I think about you baby…And I dream about you, all the time. I'm here without you baby. But you're still with me in my dreams) Jason made it to the stage with his eyes never leaving Briane, walking up two steps, then he was standing there—their gazes locked. Briane, having handed off her guitar, now with a mic, sang the rest with, and to him. (Everything I know and anywhere I go, it gets hard but it won't take away my love. And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done. It gets hard but it won't take… away….my love, whoa, I’m here

without you baby. But you're still on my lonely mind. I think about you baby…And I dream about you all the time. I'm here without you baby…But you're still with me in my dreams. And tonight…it’s only you and me…yeah….oh….yeah….ohhhhh. The music lulled to softness and Jason said to her over the mic, in Gaelic, “Tú mo shonuachar. Mo shíorghrá.” Briane, silent tears rolling over her lips, replied, “Is tú mo mhíle grá. mo chroí” **** Beth set the wine glass, beside the pool, and turned down the stereo radio remote. Picking up her cell, she dialed Sunny… “Hello…” “How soon can you prepare those annulment papers for me again?” “I can have them by morning. You were listening?” “Yeah. Were you?” “The whole Tavern was…” She chuckled. “Oh, the scandal….” He laughed roughly. “It’s about damn time. Hey, Nick wants to speak to you.” “Hey Beth.” Nick’s voice came over the line. “Hi. Busy night?” “Packed house. What are you doing?” “Got a bottle of Bordeaux I’m making my way through.” He laughed sexily, softly. “I’m off work now. Care to share it…” She laved her lips and swallowed. “Love to…” “I’ll pick you up in—half hour…” “Great…” Beth finished the glass and did a little dance on her way to the guest room. Giddy, she leaned against the door and her muttered, “You’re alive, you’re broke, in debt up to your eye balls, but alive! Don’t freaking get scared this time, Banfield...”

Chapter 20 It felt like a whirlwind trip, though Briane and the boys were gone four weeks. They taped their holiday set in a traditional Irish pub, along with customers, for Max to dub in the with show that would air at the holidays Christmas at the Old Mill, featuring Jordan Coburn. Every family member, including the little ones, would have performed. Now it was fall in the mountains when the plane landed, and in the parking lot, while the men hugged family, girlfriends, she smiled at Brook, kissed her cheeks, and baby Maddy’s then loaded her luggage in the vehicle. On the way there, after Brook reminded her that the Coburn’s were doing their gathering at the lake to make up for July—a gathering that would cover a dozen missed wedding anniversaries, because of the hectic pace, her friend said, “Beth bought the cutest little house. Jack loves it, although he was rolling his eyes until they had cable installed. You should have heard Jason groaning, having to burn a dozen episodes of super Mario brothers; he could take with him…” Laughing, Briane had her sunglasses on because of the fall sun. She murmured, “And Renee and Sunny eloped?” “Yeah. Her babies are going to be a girl and a boy. They picked names, Indian and French, Neka Jacques, and Aiyana Colette Lightfoot.” “God—that is so Renee.” “Ain’t it just. And oh, we all just know it’s going to be a better year…” Briane reached over as Brook held out her hand. “It will be.” Before letting her off at the house, Brook said, “Call Jason.” Briane arched her brow, but Brook pulled out, reminding her again to be at the lake that Saturday. Inside the house, once her bags were unpacked, clothing changed into something comfortable, Briane fixed chocolate and took it to the leaf- scattered deck, with her cell. She could tell that GW had been over, and done some raking and seasonal prep on the flowerbeds… She leaned on the rail and looked around, then pushed to dial his number. “Hello?” “Hi.”

A moment passed before he sighed, “You’re home.” She smiled. “Um. I am.” “Did Brook remind you—? “Yeah…” “I’ve something special planned.” “Really?” She took a sip from her cup and wandered down to sit on the steps. “Yeah, Uncle Jude is planning something with Dad to celebrate their missed anniversaries… well, to thank their wives, dad says, for putting up with them through all that chaos…” “Yeah.” She laughed softly. “And?” “Well he picked a certain song—and it gave me an idea…” “Why do I detect something wicked in your voice?” “Me?” He mock gasped. They laughed. Briane looked over toward the woods. “I missed you.” “I ached for you.” She chewed her lip. “It was hard, flying out that next morning.” “Hard to let you go… Damned hard, baby, to do no more than sit in that empty arena most of the night, and talk…” “Long over due, but um…a real test of strength.” Actually, it had been wonderful. He’d talked a lot about his mother, his struggle with severing that tie, but more about growing up and those times living with her. Briane had admitted that having a father around who would be proud of you, any parent, would have been wonderful, and how she and Kiera tried to make a (family) for Mora so that the girl wouldn’t struggle with the things they had going into adulthood. Yes, he’d spoken of Mitch, of his family, how he loved every crazy one of them, gave them credit for the man he was. He’d told her he’d second-guessed his decision to marry Beth in his (human) moments, but he understood Briane’s decision to put aside their relationship while he was married to her. No matter how much it hurt them both. Bottom line was, they were not perfect, either of them, and what they had felt for each other had been deep so everything in hindsight, may have played out differently, but they were both sure of their hearts, so they were taking it, what they’d learned, and hopefully letting it make them wiser. Briane realized that night, sitting against him, in his arms,

late, snuggled in a jacket he’d gotten out of his truck, that Jason was an intelligent and very amusing man, but he was a deep feeling one. She wouldn’t change anything about him. and since he understood all her flaws— But he’d said of her father, I don’t know how any man could not have held and loved you, taken pride in you, Bri. He’d hugged her so tightly. Ah well, it was a night of honesty and truth, and one, as a woman, that assured her that her heart was wiser than her head. She asked, “How is Jack settling in at Beth’s?” “Loves it. Loves school too, he’s found some buddies there in the neighborhood and with his own room and everything, and he’s adapted like kids do.” “Great.” He said after a moment, “Guess what I found out?” “What?” “Beth slept with Nick Peyton.” Her mouth parted. “Really, how did y—” He was chuckling. “Oh, Bri, you should have seen her face, it was like, beet red.” “Jason, you didn’t walk in on them?” “Fraid so. I swear though, Nick was smooth as hell. Necked as Jesus, he just tossed a sheet over Beth, on the sunroom/ studio floor—and—because I was actually over there to get something Beth accidentally packed in her stuff, he just said, wait outside, Jason, I’ll find it.” Jason snorted. “I sat on the stoop grinning my head off.” “Omg, Beth was probably mortified.” “She was. She didn’t come out. Nick did. Sonofabitch winked at me and told me to call or knock next time.” “As you should have.” “Yep. Anyway— you two talked, you and Beth? Did she ever —” “No. but I kind of thought there was something on his side right off. Probably, on hers too. We were so wrapped up in…” “Yeah.” He shuddered a sigh. “I can’t believe it’s finally our time. You don’t know how many nights these past weeks I’ve had to tell myself everything was still there for you too… that…” “Hey. I went through that, trust me. Listen, I have jet lag. I need to crash and then check in with Kiera and Mora…”

“Okay. Rest up. You’ll need your energy, not only for your cornbread sister, initiation, but for umm…what I’ve got for you.” Her blood started flowing hotter. “I will. God, it’s been…” “Um.” He made a painful sound. “You’re telling me, honey.” They hung up shortly after. **** Copper Creek Lake. A day of flag football, hot dogs, roasted on a stick, marshmallows—and music, four initiations today into the Coburn clan, a new record for Cornbread folk. Nick Peyton, Beth Banfield, Briane and Kiera, were at various times that day, tossed off the dock—though each having some idea they would be, were prepared, and made sure GW and Alvin both went in with them. Jack, of course, helped throw Nick in, and it was obvious when Nick arrived with Beth and Jack, and the grown ups were holding hands, that love, and nothing less, put that glow in Beth’s eyes, and that spark of wow, sexy, in Nicks. In fact, once, when the lovers had been spotted kissing, Briane overheard a Coburn woman say to Ruby, “Well ain’t he just full of surprises.” And, another elbowing her with, “Damn, Ruby, if I knew he could kiss like that.” However, Ruby was so obviously happy to see her brother in love, to see him with someone like Beth; she just sighed and uttered dryly, “Ladies, I have prayed for this day for nine damn years!” One of the most hilarious moments came, after many of the older groups had gone, as the bonfires were lit, GW and Alvin did not disappoint. They jumped out from behind the trucks in glittery covered work boots—stripe socks and shirts, suspenders on their hairy barrel chests—trousers rolled to the knee, and did (f-fun by confunkshun—) playing the Kazoo and Jew’s harp—generally having everyone rolling in the grass in hysterics with their dance moves, and country funk version of the song. Oh, God. Briane had never laughed so hard in her life. Their “break dancing” was enough to make her pee her pants, moon walking and mime moves—and at the end, Alvin hollering “Les do dis, y’all,”….and turned and rubbed his ass, giving her and Kiera kissy lips over his shoulder. It was insanely amusing. There was other entertainment, (little Alvin’s and GW’s in the

making) and awesome, as well as some beautiful harmony. She had not heard some of the younger ones sing and play such a variety of genres. The most touching scene of the day, was Mitch and Jude, singing to their wives... Jude said, from the picnic table he and Mitch sat on side by side, “our Anniversaries, remind Mitch and me, that we got our second chance, when the love of our lives were brave enough, to take us on one more time—Thank God.” Ruby and Madeline had been asked to sit in lawn chairs facing the table. Jude added, “Our lives have been busy, what with the Old Mill Christmas thing—Mitch and I were also reminded through the last months, of the parallels our son’s and ourselves seemed to have, in life, in love. The only—why—we’ve concluded, is that God made Coburn men’s skin a little thicker, head’s a little harder, hearts a little deeper. So there’s one woman born in this world for us, one who is able to see and know us, understand us, like none other.” Jude uttered as Mitch began to pick softly, “I love you, Ruby Jean…” and Mitch smiled at Madeline’s misty eyes, “I love you Madeline…” The brothers sang alternated verses of (I’m Yours, by Script….) You touch these tired eyes of mine, and map my face out line by line—and somehow growing old feels fine…I listen close for I'm not smart, you wrap your thoughts in works of art, and they're hanging on the walls of my heart. I may not have the softest touch, I may not say the words as such, and though I may not look like much…I'm yours And though my edges may be rough, I never feel I'm quite enough, It may not seem like very much…But I'm yours Jude sang…(You healed these scars over time, embraced my soul. You loved my mind—You're the only angel in my life The day news came my best friend died, my knees went week and you saw me cry—Say I'm still the soldier in your eyes I may not have the softest touch, I may not say the words as such—and though I may not look like much…I'm yours Max, who had been holding Jordan in front of him in a loose hug, had wiped his eyes afterwards saying, “Damn. How am I

supposed to film anything now?” But there was more, that kiss that both women openly gave their husbands—one that drew whistles, and got a few sighs, and Alvin muttering to GW, “They’ll be sheets on fire all over Copper Creek to-night.” He spit a stream of snuff, laughing. Briane was long since dried from her initiation dunking, except for her damp hair. Day now mellowing into night, the bonfires glowed bright in the clearing. Some people were in lawn chairs, beside beer coolers, others, among the circle of trucks with tailgates down—scattered below on the dock, were the courting teens. Someone, having taken most of the under-agers to a house where they could mellow, sleep off their full-out day. Jude and Ruby, Mitch and Madeline, were snuggled against each other in the back of GW’s big truck, trading their beers for the coffee thermos, expending most of their energy today holding sack races and other events for the kids, Mitch doing a hayride around the lake. there had been corn shucking—a dozen other old-time competitions—the most uproarious to Briane being the greased watermelon race, which Levi and Jett tied at, though seriously, none could carry the oiled fruit very far without it slipping out of their hands—trick was not to let it burst on the ground. Apparently, it did not matter how you got it to the finish line, so long as it was intact. The parents cheering were as funny as the kids were, Jason cheering James, elbowing Rafe who cheered Mora, and there was Coy and Max. Such a great memory. Kiera sat in a lawn chair, along with Briane and Beth, a few feet from that vehicle—they were talking to Brook and Jordan, who were slightly angled in their own. Under the conversation and crackle of the fire, they could hear GW and Alvin razzing the younger couples, joking with the new girlfriends and boyfriends, and generally telling tall tales— a lot of them true, about the Coburn’s. Briane had dressed in her soft running pants like most the women, and a hoodie over a camisole top; she was listened to Kiera absently while the waft from the fire finished drying her loose hair. She had her feet propped on a cooler and frowned slightly, wondering where Jason went. He and Rafe and Nick, Coy and Max too, had been crazy today, not just playing sports—but they’d acted like show-off teenagers, having Mitch rolling out of his chair

with laughter as they one-up’d each other all day, played pranks. Lulled into soft conversation, they all attended Max when he came out of the shadows beyond the fire, and said; “Briane, Renee, Beth and Kiera…come with me.” They were just curious enough to do so. Briane, after exchanging a look with Brook, who came along too—though at the end of the line, where Max led them down the trail. Brook grinned that, I know what is going on, but I am not telling, grin. Briane snorted, stopping when they all did, on the other side of the shower/bathroom clearing. There were torches lit in two lines, and Max waved them to sit, on weaved rugs placed on the ground. They did so. She laughed, hearing Kiera hiss to Renee nervously, “Is this another Coburn ritual? There aren’t bears out here, are there?” Renee said, “Not a ritual, no. Bears, maybe.” “Jaysus.” Briane saw Max come back from having gone into the shadows again. Her grin spread full the moment Coy appeared. He was playing a Mandolin, Max had bongos, and tambourine set up—doing a deep and kicked-up, funky beat… They sat on a nearby picnic table, and started singing (I’m yours by Jason Marz…) Well you done done me and you bet I felt it—I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted. I fell right through the cracks. And now I'm trying to get back Before the cool done run out—I'll be giving it my bestest Nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention—I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some… I won't hes-itate no more, no more. It can-not wait, I'm yours) Then, they came—Rafe first, out of the shadows, swinging his hips, doing a sexy dance. Followed by Nick, his steps echoing a samba, then Jason—and surprisingly Sunny—dressed in skintight beaded buckskins, long hair flowing. Sunny, looked sexyprimal, displaying that his muscular back was covered with a beautiful tattoo of an eagle with its wings spread—so good, that Renee screamed, “Oh m'God, baby! You’re beautiful.” Each of them entered the circle of torches, Jason dancing toward Briane, his torso gleaming bronze, hips and ass in low

slung and worn jeans, mesmerizing her with a circle and swing keeping beat, white sexy grin flashing. He turned and gave her a back view and did circles with his hip-ass action that echoed some she recalled during sex…Oh, too long ago, that was… When he walked toward the center, she glanced at a flushed faced Kiera, all but drooling as Rafe was in front of her, his hipedging black trousers riding below a ridge of black hair. No denying with his hair sliding over his brow, and lean muscle dirty dancing, poor Kiera could not be blamed for staring fixated. Beth was muttering, “Omgooooood.” In a soft growl, because Nick—wearing a ratty and thin pair of paint-spattered jeans, barefoot, as they all were, was dancing around her. The man had a great lean-honed runner’s body. Sunny was dancing, so that his lush raven waist length hair fanned out, arms out, knees coming up, doing native steps, between the hip action, spinning and laughing—like a happy, happy—man, at Renee’s constant murmurs of, “Dude, you’re sexy. Yeah baby. Oh, God…I wanna make more babies with you!” Briane jerked her gaze to Jason, who winked and crook’d his finger for her to come and join him. Peeling off her jacket, shedding shoes, she did, smiling, but wildly turned on as just the beat was sounding. They all danced, the women up now, Beth and Nick doing their sexy samba, and Kiera grinding with Rafe…Rene just letting Sunny surround and move her body, giving an all too vivid picture of how she worshipped the man… Touching Jason’s ripped abs, Briane danced close and muttered, “I think Renee is in full orgasm over there.” He threw his head back and laughed. Kiera blew out a breath, “I’m pretty close myself.” She backed up so she could watch him, and he did not disappoint, giving her some hip rotation that rivaled Rafe’s hula-Shakera hips and ass shaking… Jason watched her lick her lips. She raised her gaze to his sexy grin and murmured, “You planned this. Wow. Turn on.” He danced around her, rubbing his ass a bit on hers, then took her hand—dancing her off to the dark and down a path… Breathless and laughing, Briane clutched his hand. He cut down a hill and swooped her up, depositing her on a picnic table…the beat faint in the distance…

“Jason...” she whispered to the heavens while he stripped her pants and panties off. Then he spread her thighs. Leaning over, he sensually feasted on her sex, devouring her erotically—making her thighs tremble and her breath gasp—bringing her to a searing climax. Heavy eyed and hot, Briane barely came down from that, before he brought her to the edge of the table, unlatched, and shoved down his sexy denims and was inside her tight and deep. Clinging to his muscled forearms, she moaned on a wild cry, “It seems like for-ever.” He arched his neck. “God—it has been.” Then lowered his head and stared at her with feverish blue eyes. “I love you, Briane…” Her nails flexed into his arms. “I love you. IS tú mo ghrá. You are my love, Jason Coburn.” Making a sound of intense emotion, he poured everything in him into every thrust. Briane took him, whispering and moaning, “Jason…Jason…I have loved you before I ever met you. I knew you were mine…I knew I belonged to you. Mo anam cara.” “Briane,” he rasped. “I knew it too. I knew the moment I looked at you. She is mine. This woman has my heart and soul…. Eyes damp with tears, Briane husked, “I feel you there. Always have. But here, now, like this, your body pleasures me so intensely that I feel like I’m flying…” “Babe...” he choked and shuddered, “Briane….Oh, God, I can’t believe we’re here, this close again. My—soul, my heart—I love you.” She felt his climax deep, held him tighter through his powerful shuddering. Afterwards, both nude, they held to each other. Jason was seated and Briane faced him, on his lap, their bodies close and arms wrapped tightly, her face against his sinewy throat. Kissing her hair Jason husked, “Be my wife, Briane. Let me be your husband, your friend, and lover, forever. Please, my love. Forgive me for the pain. Love me; let me love you, for the rest of our lives.” She raised her head, gazing at him as he looked down, their eyes drinking each other in. “I will. I do. Although, forever—is still not long enough.”

Jason lowered his head. They sealed those words with a kiss —one of thousands they gave, shared—through the night. Ending up on Sleeping bags in the back of Jason’s truck—though it took them some time to actually make it to the truck—there were so many ways to make love, on, against, bent over…a rustic and weathered picnic table... The End… Almost…

Bonus and deleted scenes…. Kiera was trying to get ready for Briane’s wedding. Catering everything herself and wanting it to be perfect, she was late getting back from the Old Mill. An autumn wedding there was going to be lovely. It took a place that big to hold all of the Coburn’s, and cornbread brothers and sisters. The decorations were beautiful, fall hues, earthy, just brilliant. She had catered the food and cake to Jason’s house. Her staff was still there, preparing everything around his heated in-door pool. Briane’s theme was “the fiery hues of autumn”—so Kiera got very creative with it. Finally getting the deep purple silk on, she checked herself in the mirror, loving the simple flowing lines of the dress, the hem higher in the front to her knee, fluttering longer in the back. Her hair in its chic style and make-up smoky, lips glossed, her only jewelry was tiny pearls in her ears. Briane’s wedding gown would be a deep cream lace with ivory satin underneath, designed in the same lines—except Briane’s had minute gold thread in the lace shamrock design. Kiera had seen her this morning, and adored her simple hairstyle, relaxed twists drawn back from her face and tiny flowers in it. Briane was a beautiful bride. Muttering again to herself, Kiera turned and grabbed the shoes out of the box and put them on, hoping Mora stayed clean for the ceremony, her daughter having spent the night with Jett, because they, along with other Coburn children, would be flower girls. Drawing deep breaths, she turned to the bed to get the purse and her car keys, but reaching it—her hand froze just above the coverlet…her eyes drawn to a small box nestled on the pillow. Scarcely breathing, Kiera’s fingers shook as she picked it up and opened the lid. Staring with watering eyes at the beautiful ring, she heard the squeak of the stairs. Turning toward the door then, and watching Rafe appear. Hands in the pockets of his black slacks, his lavender shirt and purple tie handsome against his darkness, she eyed his soft grin as Rafe leaned a shoulder against the door facing. Kiera’s heart was fluttering; she looked at the ring again. From across the room, he murmured, “You are my woman, my lover, my most cherished friend, and partner. I love you,

Kiera.” The tears spilled over and she looked up at him. “I love you, Rafe. You are everything to me.” Eyes going over her, he told her, “You are beautiful today, Amor.” “As are you, in all ways.” “You glow with radiance.” Blinking tears, she bit her lip, then whispered, “I’m going… to have your baby.” Rafe’s grin changed to astonishment. He was across the room and on his knees in seconds, his arms around her waist— and face against the satin covering her belly. Kiera’s hand landed in his lush hair, tears splashing on the inky stuff as she whispered, to his husked string of Spanish, “I’m happy too, my love. It has been hard to keep it secret for three months. I’ve cherished it though…” Head lifting after he placed a dozen kisses there, Rafe got to his feet and took the box, putting the ring on her finger. “You’ll take me as your husband?” “I’ll take you anyway I can get you.” She laughed softly. Rafael tilted her chin up, his eyes dark and soft, “I cannot believe how you love me, sometimes…” “It’s the simplest of things…It’s the easiest of things.” She stroked his face. “I want more of your babies. I want, to grow old with you, wake in the morning and see you next to me. I want to love you with my heart, soul, my body…I want to give you passion and joy, comfort and healing. I want you to always know, that you healed me. I’ve no empty and hurting spaces left—you’ve held me, Rafe filled me, with such love and unspeakable joy…” Rafael groaned, kissed her silky, sensually, and then moaned against her lips, his hand on her spine, “Dios. I wish I could take you to bed…” She laughed and stepped back. “I can’t be late. Oh, Jaysus— my make-up.” Kiera went over to the mirror and was repairing and fussing when she looked through the reflection—and saw his unguarded eyes as he watched her… “Rafe…” she whispered, ceasing her motions. His wanting and hungry gaze, filled with love, met hers in the mirror.

Kiera swallowed and turned, going to him and embracing him tightly. With her hold on the back of his hair, she brought him down for a passionate kiss. He breathed, when she let him catch one, “You have not kissed me like that since the night I danced for you at the lake.” “I love that memory.” Her eyes glittered with it. “You were so sexy and so erotic… the things we did on the hood of my car that night.” She breathed, “I’ve cum in my sleep dreaming about it.” A shudder of want when through him. He sank to the floor, gliding up the hem of her dress… “You too? Mi Vida. I most definitely need to move into your bed tonight…” “Please…” she uttered, between a moan and a cry, her eyes rolling back as he used that skillful, sinful mouth of his expertly… They were just a bit late…for the wedding… (THE OLD MILL) Mitch paced back stage, every now and then peeking out to see at least an acre of faces while folks milled about and greeted each other. One of the Coburn bands was on stage, playing contemporary tunes. He could glimpse, Madeline, every now and then, coming out of the dressing room, where Briane was getting ready. Jordan, Renee, Brook and Lily, he forgot who else was in there with the bride. Max and Coy, was in the other with Jason— who was out of his skin excited, and making Mitch nervous as hell. The younger boys, including Jack, were with the little girls, under the direction of Ruby, who had walked them through their roles. Rubbing the back of his neck, Mitch checked his watch, paced to the end and back, never recalling a time he had been so nervous. Shit. He had done live shows before and had not been half this anxious. Briane, had asked him to give her away, and he had said yes — but he had another plan, and two weeks did not give him a lot of time. Moreover, given his family, keeping everything secret and working out the details, had not been easy. No one knew but himself and Madeline—Alvin. His cell rang. His heart jumped before he unclipped and

answered, “Yeah?” Alvin said, “Plane just landed. Should get him to your house; get him changed in there in about thirty.” “Thank God. Yeah, that should work.” “Burning rubber.” Mitch laughed and clicked off, almost feeling sorry for Liam, given that Alvin would do exactly that, in his super sized pick up truck. However, he was too relieved to spare that emotion, and went to knock on the door, asking for Madeline. She emerged, looking flushed, beautiful to him, in her green thigh length dress and sheer hem-length jacket—excited and happy as she guessed, “He’s here?” “Alvin is driving from the airport. He’ll stop at the house and change.” She nodded. “I’m so glad we could send all the information to his grandparents and they had his suit tailored there.” “Yep.” Mitch kissed her quickly and then winked. “I can relax now.” “Yeah, right.” She chuckled and pulled him in a hug, the both of them holding on a bit, rubbing each other’s back. She murmured, “You prayed hard for this day, didn’t you.” “Yes.” he admitted and they parted. Mitch took her hand and they walked to lean against one of the support braces, looking out at the mountains. “I knew, in my soul, that wasn’t him before. That he wasn’t happy, as in content and satisfied, fulfilled. I knew, because I had been there myself. I had nothing against those girls, but Briane had everything in her eyes when she regarded him, that they didn’t. I wanted him happy and loved.” Madeline nodded. “Some people would just look at her past, a bad home life, not very stable career…” “I heard her talk about music. I knew she had the heart and soul of it. Aside from all that, Madeline, the way Jason described her the first time, I could have bet without having met her that she was what he needed. I would rather Jason have found his soul mate in a woman who understands, from experience and mistakes, rather than someone who will never care when his own heart is troubled. Life is hard. Everyday, it gets tougher. If your wife, lover, family, if they don’t have the grit to stand with you, it can grind you down to nothing. Briane has grit.”

Smiling, Madeline eyed his profile. “Yes she does. When Jason told her he was busted broke, no savings, except what he was putting away for Jack, he said she shrugged and told him, I guess I’m learning to can peaches, and make jams. She told him, you have a house, a blessed big family, people who love you; you are rich Jason Coburn, richer than you know. Oh, Mitch, that is how I felt too. I love you. You’re wonderful.” He met that gaze with a smile of his own. “That’s why I love you, because I’m not really. Life isn’t always, and I have a million faults. To me, you are the wonderful one. You never said a word other than how sorry you were, when the company folded, you just started planting the garden, and canning peaches.” She chuckled. “And you gotta eat peach pie and peach cobbler and home grown tomatoes every night.” He mused with that smile. “I love you Madeline.” “All joking aside, we do have enough, thanks to this Mill. I never worry with you, Mitch. You’re a hard working man.” “Madeline, you didn’t have to go back to the Tavern, full time — “Nope. But there are two of us. You take care of me, Mitch. I lack for nothing, and that includes love. I’d only cut down my hours because life got busy with the Mill. I will work when I can—and try not to miss a show. We’re in this together.” He leaned and kissed her, then said, “I’d better go help Max and Coy with Jason. He keeps asking one of them to make sure Briane is still here.” “Tell him she is, and she’s as anxious to be his bride as he is to make her that. She’s over the moon happy.” “Will do.” He left her and went toward the dressing room. **** Max looked up as Mitch came into the dressing/waiting area. “I think we need a tranquilizer gun to keep him still.” He nodded toward Jason, who was pacing at the other end. Grinning, Mitch waved him over and murmured, “I have a surprise for them. Liam was just picked up at the airport…” Max’s eyes widened, “I got one too…” Brow cocked, Mitch waited… “I flew her brother, Sean, in last night. Another is on deployment in Afghanistan, and two are in China, and can’t get

here on time—they are working the relief efforts over there. I am sending them film of the wedding. He’s, Patrick, the one in the military, sent a message we’ll play at the reception.” “I’m glad we’re reuniting her family in some sense. No doubt the hard times drove them down different roads, but there comes a time for making peace, and they all need that.” Coy, who was trying to joke with Jason, came over and said, “Shit, somebody else take a turn. He is going through the whole— does Max have the ring? Did I remember to shave? Is the preacher here yet? Did someone get Jack ready? Are you sure she’s still here, thing again.” “Let’s take him outside. He’s cagey.” Mitch grinned and they all went over and led Jason out a side door. They could stand on a landing, see all the guests, the beautiful scenery, and fall-bathed mountains beyond. Breathing deeply, Jason, in his tuxedo, murmured, “Why y’all gazing at me like that. I’m not nervous.” “Yeeeeah right.” He laughed, leaned back against the rail, taking a smoke Max gave him. “I love her so damn much. I’d go crazy all over again, to have her.” He lit the cigarette and blew it, muttering, “Guess that shows—since I coaxed her into setting the wedding date so fast.” All the men exchanged a smile. Coy muttered, “Yeah, we um…coax our wives, at least once a week.” Laughter ruffled between them. Mitch was gazing around afterwards and heard a sharp whistle. He glanced in that direction and saw GW and Alvin, hustling Liam toward the building. He had known that Jason called Liam and asked the boy if he could have Briane’s hand. They talked on the internet, Briane and Jason together had talked to him too. However, with exams coming up, neither had figured he could make it. Mitch told Jason, “Liam’s here.” “What!” Jason smiled. “I had him flown in…” “Dad…you’re a real bastard for not telling me. But I love you.” Jason hugged him, lifting him off his feet. They only got a glimpse of the lanky, dark-haired lad,

dressed in dove gray pinstripe, and black—getting a flash of his grin and wave before he was led into Briane’s dressing room. Jason heard her scream, “Oh, my boyo! You came…Let me kiss yer face off.” He sighed with that squeeze in his heart. It would mean the world to Briane, for her son to give her away. Coy broke into his thoughts, saying, “That’s my cue,” and went out to take his place on stage with his guitar for himself and some of the Coburn family singers to do (Soul mate by Josh Turner). By then, the preacher was at his spot, in center stage. Jason stood with Max and his Dad, and Jack. The crowd hushed, then breathed a sigh when Mora and Jett, the Coburn girls, came out, hair in long curls, wearing white dresses. Brook and Jordan came, carrying the babies in their arms, the babe’s in lace caps and frilly gowns. She, Jordan, and Kiera all in the same dresses of purple. Anyone around Jason heard his sigh, a catch in his breath when Briane came walking toward him, on Liam’s arm, her hand holding only a single rose. The breeze lifted her softly curled hair, adorned with minute flowers in the crown and back. The dress softly hugged her body to the knee. The hem seemed to float on the floorboards. Her naturally flushed cheeks illustrated how happy she was—and her eyes were luminous. To Jason, to many there, she looked like an ethereal dream, his dream, he had long ago realized. A woman who would fascinate him for years to come, one he would never take for granted, nor grow tired of singing with, listening to, laughing with— and making love… When Liam brought her to him and stepped back, Jason locked with those pine green eyes for a time out of reality… and he was only half aware that he husked over the lowered mic, “You’re right, my love, forever is not enough time.” And she, lost in his, responded, “But my heart has found a home, and yours is safe with me, so we’ll love in this one—as no one ever has… Brook, Madeline, Ruby, many were already damp-eyed from that exchange, before the vows were spoken. A smile was on their lips though, when Liam gave her hand to Jason—and said in his accents, “Keep yer promises today, and take care of her, always.”

Sean O’Fahy having asked to wait until the wedding reception to be reunited with his sisters, sat in the crowd wearing a slight grin, and having a misty eye of his own, nodding to his nephew mentally with pride at those words. There was a ruffle of laughter when Max passed the ring to Jack and Jack handed them to the preacher with a, “I got nothing to say. My stomach’s growling.” After the rings and the pronouncement, while Coy sang (Everything, by Michael Buble)—and Briane tossed her rose— there were cheers that echoed over the mountains—and rang out, down the hollow. Whoops and more came while Jason kissed Briane again, and then picked her up and carried her to his decorated truck. By way of Alvin and GW, and the teens in the family. Once inside, she said breathless, “I love you.” “I love you too.” He kissed her, ignoring the blowing horns as folks teased them, wanting to get to the reception. Before pulling out, he told her with a white smile, “If we end up having half the family still there at midnight—I got a back up plan.” She chuckled. “So do I. Madeline and Ruby told me how crazy they are, so I stashed us a change of clothing, some food and a sleeping bag in the back of the truck.” He threw his head back in a guffaw. “My God, Irish. You’re a cornbread Coburn already!” To which she muttered, in a faux southern drawl, “I’m gittin’ me some tonight, baby, come hell or high water…” They were laughing like idiots rolling down Copper Creek, horns blowing for miles behind as the family followed. **** (The wedding reception.) Jason had gotten the text from Max on the way, about Sean having arrived. He made sure that Both Briane and Kiera were alone for a brief moment, to have that reunion, and he met his brother in law afterwards, shaking his hand, and letting O’Fahy take his measure. Jason said, “She’s my life and breath.” The man answered, “That’s obvious.” And smiled dryly. After pictures were taken, by Max, and family members, the

formal waltzes done; Briane waltzing with Mitch, Madeline with both Liam and Jason, the cutting of the cake—the bride and groom were allowed to change—although between kissing and getting too turned on kissing, it was some time before they emerged to find a Coburn-style shin dig in full swing. Briane, in a more casual skirt outfit and Jason in dark jeans and white shirt, stared each and laughed then went to find some food. Even though Kiera had outdone herself, with the Fall/harvest theme around Jason’s pool, it was still a Coburn wedding, so the groom’s cake was not actually a cake at all, but five layers of southern cornbread, which was devoured with the collard greens, ribs and taters that Mitch contributed. Winking at Kiera, when he had viewed the platters of delicacies, Mitch had said, “They’ll start licking the crumbs if I don’t cook something stick-to-your ribs.” GW and Alvin came out to “entertain” first, on the makeshift stage, dressed in wigs, Alvin’s black and short, GW’s brown and long and he wore false eyelashes. With GW having a plaid on, they did a mimic of Jason and Briane’s courtship, to a rendition of “Are you gonna kiss me or not” The roof shook with the roars of laughter. Briane falling over against Jason she laughed so hard. Particularly, since GW was using his “Irish” accent, and in between verses, slapping Alvin and using some of the slang she had introduced them too. Oh, there were waltzes and sweeter moments, moving ones, too. Preacher McNeal had them laughing, telling stories on Jason from his teen to his boyhood years. One of the most memorable moments came when a reticent Lily got up to the mic—she’d been crazy busy making runs for Kiera, going back and forth, from the catering shop to Jason’s. Therefore, she only caught the tail end of the wedding before she was rushing down to meet with the other staff and make sure everything was ready… She’d changed out of her bronze dress and classic look, back into black leather, Goth/punk clothing—including a metal studded corset, and thigh high boots. Her spiral hair was flowing down and streaked with different colors. She said, “I’ve a song to do, if anyone knows Gotthard?” “I do.” Sean O’Fahy stood up from somewhere in the sea of family and sauntered toward her. Mitch and Jude, Deege going to the drums—being game to play, having shrugged and asked for

the sheet music and tablature… The closer Sean came, the more Lily’s mouth dropped open. It was heard over the mic, when he said with the devil’s twinkle in those silvery eyes, “That’s right, Lass. I’m the “tired ass” who tried to run you down for a lift yesterday, when I recognized my sister’s name on that van…” He picked up one of the flying z guitars, and though her mouth snapped shut, muttered, “Let’s see if you have anything in you besides a led foot, and bad attitude.” He went through a few riffs. Lily was thinking—had been, since he started walking toward her, that NOW she could see he looked like both Briane and Kiera. His red/brown hair was sleek and clean, hanging nearly to his waist. His eyes carried a bit of the morning mists in them. He had a blues under his lip, five piercings in his ear, some colorful tattoo on his neck. With the classic bones, that Kiera carried so well showing more now. Dressed in metal-head black Hendrix Tshirt, camouflage pants, steel-toed boots, he looked nothing like the bum with a duffle bag—hair in some kind of sack-cap, she had freaked out, cussed out, and floored the van to get away from yesterday. He’d beat the side of it while running, screaming something, but she had been in a hurry and was blasting Thin Lizzy from the speakers. Now, as he glanced at the sheet and arrogantly uttered, “I’ll sing lead.” She wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Lily forgot, while they did Fire dance that she had never played or sang in front of the family, she was too busy burning up the guitar solos and leaving half the room open-mouthed. Of course, they were amazed by Sean’s vocals, but wow—Just wow —Jude looked over at Mitch and mouthed, Lily rocked the house. Jason, watching them, leaned over, kissed Briane’s ear, and muttered, “Was that a rebel yell Sean just gave? I think the Irish and the American just declared war.” Briane leaned, back saying, “Something’s on fire up there…” Sean and Lily were locked in eye contact, with every word he sang, and on the chorus, they kicked ass. On guitars, they were smoking hot. Moreover, when Lily did the solo, every Coburn in the room, now over their shock that she could play, was on their feet

screaming and pumping their fists…. Briane raised her brow, seeing a hidden grin on Sean’s face before he masked it. She told Jason after the song ended, “I think you may be right…only I’d place my bet on the Irish if you don’t mind.” Jason chuckled, “Hey, I’m no fool.” He kissed her and looked into her eyes. “I surrendered to one, and I’m loving every moment of it.” Lily and Sean swung right into Mad love, and everyone was dancing—and somewhere in there, Coburn’s were throwing each other into the pool too. Wiping the sweat off his brow when they were done, Sean O’Fahy, looked around at the crazy antics of the Coburn’s, all the tossing into the water—and someone in the back singing 99bottles of beer on the wall, GW wearing one of the round leafy centerpieces on his head, doing a dance to entertain the kids at their table— and said to her, “Yer family hasta’ be Irish.” As they walked toward the tables, Sean was hit with something, and instinctively grabbed at the garter that smacked him in the chest. Her lip curled, Lily muttered, “Don’t even look at me, dude.” And walked on toward the family. Sean, that twinkle in his eye, tucked the garter in his pocket and went to find his sister, to see if she could put in a word with Brook, about renting her now empty house. He could maybe work at the Tavern—. **** (Rafael and Kiera get married….) “I can’t believe she asked me to give her to Rafe.” Sunny checked his long braid and smoothed his hair where it was combed back, before pulling on his white suite jacket. Renee, rubbing her rounding stomach, said, “I can. She knows what you mean to him, and what he means to you.” She moved to stand beside him in the mirror, her smile meeting his. “Do you know, she went and asked for Madeline and Ruby’s blessing too?” “I knew. Ruby told me.”

They left for Rafael’s, where the wedding would take place. Mora and Briane were standing up for Kiera, and not so surprising, Coy, Max, Jason, were standing up with Rafe. They arrived, parked, and entered to the lovely strains of Latin music, the restaurant done out with rich hues, fragrant flowers, and the cake, each layer had a ribbon tied to a charm, in the Peruvian custom, the single women would pull the ribbons, the one who pulled a ribbon with a ring on it, would marry within a year. Rafe—wow—Ruby thought eyeing him, although he wore a Spanish style suite of white, he wore traditional Peruvian poncho, colorfully weaved. Each of his grooms had one on too. She was seated by Madeline and Mitch, several Coburn’s, when the lovely Mora appeared, smiling, wearing a knee length ruffled green dress with ribbons in her black curls. They all grinned when Rafe winked at her and she giggled. Then after Briane, in stunning gold and yellow silk, white roses in her hair, came Kiera… Madeline whispered, “She’s absolutely stunning.” Ruby agreed—and there were several watching Rafe’s face when that elegant woman made her entry to Andrea Bocelli’s (someone like you). her short hair sleek behind her ears that sparkled with diamonds, showing off her long graceful neck, in a Celtic gown with V lace bodice and champagne ribbon straps, the back dipped to the spine in a v shape, the skirt silky and in back, falling with a soft fan of sheer material over the short train. The ribbon in the straps was echoed at the spine in a cluster of tiny pearls and bows. Face glowing, eyes with the merest dove and light charcoal shadow, lips gleaming peach…Kiera had in her hands a cluster of heather-and delicate strings of pearls swayed from it, as she walked beside Sunny Rafe looked transfixed, absolutely mesmerized, and when he said his vows, both in Spanish and Gaelic. There was not a dry eye in the place. Kiera repeated hers the same… The wedding kiss—Ah—was there ever such a romantic kiss given… Max would later say, through the picture taking, and congratulations, that it was one of the most romantic he had ever seen. Of course, there were Coburn’s there, so gossip did get out,

something that happened at the time of the reception, when Coy gave Kiera a bent over kiss, and told a dryly smiling Rafe, “It was either kiss her or kiss you…” To which Rafe supplied in thick accents, “You can give me mine in the parking lot, later…”and rubbed a spot much lower than his lips. Such goings on, the people of Diamond Back gasped. Wasn’t it enough that Jason’s ex wife had run off and married Nick Peyton last weakened? Rumors, that leather wearing Lily girl was playing the devil’s music, doing some ritual shit up on the ridge Saturday night? That Sean O’Fahy, he had moved into Brook’s old house—hair down to his ass and tattoo’s, that was just asking to drag that nice neighborhood to hell. Moreover, three months later the folks in town just knew that little girl Beth and Nick adopted was really his—him being a bartender and all…and artists, weren’t they all weird and bohemian anyway? God only knew, since they were all thick as thieves with the Coburn’s, what was going to happen when (that) generation grew up! **** Rafael at the hospital Dios, Rafe could not hold onto anything once the call came from the hospital. He dropped his keys in his office, dropped his jacket and nearly tripped over it, and he kept murmuring, “This was supposed to be a check up.” Finally crossing himself, muttering prayers in four languages, he went through the restaurant, half hearing cheers and greetings from a full house of patrons. Somehow, he got in his car and drove there in a blur, his cell beeping with a dozen messages that the Coburn’s were on their way—and sometime after stopping at the nurses stations, he was being shoved into a gown, his shoes covered, and at last…he was by a sweating and strain-smiled Kiera’s side… Speaking half in Portuguese, half in English, he grasped her hand, and soothed her brow, “Why didn’t you tell me this morning. You should have told me, I would have—” “You’re hear now, love.” She looked into his eyes. “That’s all that matters.” The female OBGYN came in. Rafe was moved to hold

Kiera’s leg, rub it, his heart hammering, brow sweating with every push that followed… Even the doctor laughed at his mix of, merciful mother of God, and I love you, Kiera… In between pushes, Kiera gasped, “I’m okay, love. I’m okay…” because he was praying and apologizing, praising. Rafe watched the crowning, his adrenaline going through the roof. The world tilted when his son Santino Raul Rafael Martinez, came into the world. “Cut right here.” The doctor handed him scissors. Gazing at the child, an eight-pound boy, and at Kiera, he husked through tears, “I am blessed beyond words.” He cut the cord and laughed with a tired Kiera when his son yelled. She said, “I think that was in Spanish.” “No Gaelic.” He breathed on his own weak laugh, watching the nurses take his son, clean, and salve him. As the doctor worked on Kiera, Rafe smoothed her hair and kissed her. He rasped, “My beloved. May he always see the love between us that gave him life.” Kiera watched as Rafe got to hold their son, to stroke that shock of black hair. Watching tears pour from those beautiful eyes, she felt her heart fill and overflow. She knew everyone saw the outer beauty in Rafe, but she loved the inside—it was something he bathed her in every day they were together. His joy, his laughter, his loving and deep soul…his ability to dream—and believe in others dreams too… **** (Fishing, with Rafe, Nick, and Max, Coy….) “I found out something the other day,” Jason cast and reeled, then cast again. Lounging on the other end of the boat, Max joked, “What, that Briane actually doesn’t like your goulash, and feeds it to the dog.” Narrowing his eyes on his brother, Jason said, “No. But is that actually true? Did she say that?” All the men laughed and Max nodded. “You expect the woman to eat something with cayenne peppers and God knows what else.” He shuddered. “I’ve seen your goulash. It ain’t.” After another round of snorts, Jason sobered and sighed. “No. I found out that she was sending pictures of Jack to Rhonda.

That she writes her letters.” Coy glanced up from baiting his hook. “Seriously?” “Yeah. She didn’t tell me. I found one addressed. It wasn’t sealed so I read it.” Nick grunted. Jason shrugged. “I shouldn’t have, but she knows what went down. Anyway, it was all about us, our life and Jack, but the cool thing was, she had just the right tone to let Rhonda know we were close, strong, very bonded. And I swear, I blushed reading the stuff she said about me…” “She only sees your good qualities,” Rafe muttered. “You’re still taking your work boots off outside, and washing your feet before she has to suffer them.” He waved his hand. Grinning, Jason propped the ones he had on up near Rafe, worn, cracked at the seam, almost ripe enough to be rotten. Max asked, “Did you ask her about it?” “No.” Jason glanced at him. “I thought about it. Almost let myself take it wrong. But I realized that Briane is clever enough to know what she’s doing.” “Wise man.” Nick nodded. After a moment of actual fishing, they rested their reels and dug out cold beers, the boat bobbing in the shady cove. Nick offered, “Beth came home the other day with her labia pierced.” Beer spewed at him from all directions, as the men reacted to that lazy statement. Gathering himself first, Coy wheezed, “No shit?” “No. The conversation was getting too serious for fishing is all.” Nick laughed, getting more beer thrown on him while their laughter rocked the boat. “He was saying, Look, I cried at your damn weddings, when your kids were born…This is supposed to be a macho experience.” Max asked, “I wonder why that popped in your mind as a distraction.” Rafe muttered, “Max has his cock pierced.” Which made Max turn red, and demand who told him that— and they all said together, our wives, who obviously heard it from Jordan. Somewhere in there, Nick offered dryly, “It’s probably a good

thing Sunny couldn’t make it—” “I’m almost afraid to ask why,” Jason eyed him. Nick grinned and looked up at the sky, “Because Renee gave Beth a velvet lined box of cock rings at the bridal shower. Beth wanted to know how they were supposed to be sized, because she had never actually seen them before. Renee told her she didn’t know, she couldn’t find any big enough to fit Sunny.” They cracked up laughing. Jason saying, “Renee’s a Coburn all right.” After awhile they docked the boat. Swam, and were sprawled out on the dock. Gazing up at the sky Max muttered, “I’m going home to some estrogen. I’ve had all the testosterone I can handle for one day.” Rafe stood saying, “Me too. I’m going to paint Kiera’s toenails tonight.” All of them sauntering to their trucks, carrying tackle boxes, their reels and waders, Nick muttered putting his in the back of Jason’s truck as he was getting a lift from him, “Is there somewhere we can buy fish on the way?” Hearing all the men laughing, as they started their trucks, Jason said when they were in, buckled up, and heading down Copper Creek, “I used to ask Dad and Uncle Jude why they never caught any. Aside from the fact, they went with Alvin and GW. St. Peter himself could not catch fish with those two in the boat. Dad would always say, son, if we’re hungry, I’ll bring home a fish, if I need to spend time with my brother, I’ll come back with sunburn, a pile of wet clothing, and an empty beer cooler.” Grinning softly, Nick glanced over as they passed Mitch’s, throwing his hand up. The brother’s were sitting on the steps, Jude in his do-rag, ratty jeans and black tank, Mitch bare foot and in Levis, shirtless, holding a cup of coffee. Jason had blown his horn. On the steps, Mitch leaned his elbows back on the one above and watched the truck roll on. “See any fish in the back?” “No.” Jude grunted and leaned back too, crossing his ankles. “Think we did all right, bro?” “Eventually.” Mitch smiled at him. Jude looked over. “I got two, still to raise.”

“Yeah, I’m almost looking forward to seeing how much hell Jett is going to raise.” Jude grunted and looked up the evening sky. “A born rebel if I ever saw one.” Sitting up, Mitch slapped him on the back. “I’ll be praying for you.” “You’ll be laughing your ass off at me.” They got up, and before Jude went down to walk home, he said, “Hey?” “Yeah.” Mitch turned at the top of the steps. Those amber eyes smiled in that hard face. “I’m only going to say this once…” “You don’t have to.” Mitch’s were smiling too. “Good.” Jude grunted and went on down the road. Madeline, who was in the swing, had heard and smiled as Mitch stepped on the porch. “I love the way you two communicate.” He headed in to rinse his coffee cup. “We’re Coburn’s.” Madeline murmured when the screen door shut. “And that just explains everything.” **** (Jason and Briane’s house….married two years…) Jason came home from work, tripping over a pile of legos on his way to the counter, weaving his way past stuffed animals and a basket of other toys before he could get to the bedroom, shower and change. On his way back, he picked everything up and took the basket to his Daughter Storm’s room. Putting everything away, he went in search of mother and toddler, finally finding them, then grinning and standing at the rail of the top landing, watching his ladies a moment as they were sleeping. Briane, in a cotton shift, lay on the seating; Storm was toward her chest in a matching one, her little hand on Briane’s shoulder, with that dark red brown hair waving on her head. Jason knew when Storm’s eyes were open they were as light blue as the sky, and when she looked at him, hugged him, he was a puddle of mush. The stair squeaked as he reached the landing and he saw Briane’s eyes open, deep green ones that held a tinge of her

dreams. Her smile as mysterious as her expression. He murmured, “Is there room for one more?” She husked, reaching out her hand, “We always leave room for you.” He lay down on the edge, their eyes over the sleeping child’s head, their palms sliding over each other’s arms. With their heartbeats, so close, their scent and softness near him, he closed his eyes and slept the sweetest slumber. Briane lay awake for some time, just watching him, tracing the lines of his face, gazing at him, as she never tired of doing. Liam was coming to spend the summer with them, and bond with his stepbrother and half sister. He would come before in short spurts, but this time he would get two whole months. She didn’t know who was more excited, Liam or Jason… **** Sometime, in the future… Jack Coburn finished buttoning his tailored shirt and tucked it into his black trousers. Sitting on the bed he put on his shoes, looking around the room, afterwards, feeling that nostalgia he always did when he came home to Copper Creek. Standing, he checked his hair in the mirror, the black stuff having a bit of wave so it tended to muss easily. His brown eyes looked through the reflection, all the plaques from his school years were there on the wall, ROTC, Jr fire and rescue, honors and awards, for community service, and others that foretold the focus and future of someone who would end up in the service field—although Diamond Back sure as hell never thought they’d see a Coburn as an officer of the law. With a quirk to his grin, he left his old rooms at his Dad’s house, his Mom, Beth, having long since sold the little white one she had lived in for two years and moved in with his step-Dad Nick. It was kind of neat having two sets of parents growing up, and he had half sister’s that were adopted by Nick and his Mom, Julia and Jessie, they had been adopted at age five and eight, so they were now adults. He went in search of his sister, Storm, who was trying to act as if she wasn’t happy he was home. Not that he blamed her, when he had gone off to college he had been in a pain in her ass and

vise versa. “Hey, Kid,” he said that and opened the door to her room at the same time. Having been laying on her bed covers, reading, Storm rolled to her back, looking him over with those sky eyes filled with mockery, a typical teen look of (why do guys dress up like that?) “Where you going? He came over and sat on the bed, grinning and watching her cover the romance novel by shoving it under the pillow, pulling out another book—some classic. “Thought I’d go out to Rafael’s for dinner.” “Umm hmm.” She sat up laughing. “And I’ll bet it has nothing to do with the fact that Sage Lennox goes there on Wednesday nights to eat.” “Not a thing.” He grinned. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t get what you see in her. Aside from the fact, her Dad is rich. There’s bad blood between Lennox and the Coburn’s.” “You’ll understand when you’re older.” Jack didn’t get into the (Bad Blood) comment, although it was partly true. Lennox had swept into town and tried to buy out some of the Coburn’s in Copper Creek who were struggling. When that didn’t work, he bought up half of Diamond Back. Only a hand full in the family knew that his grandfather and Dad, his uncle, Alvin and GW had scraped together to save those businesses and help the Coburn’s who had been desperate enough to take Lennox’s offer, and they’d paid back taxes and things, as Lennox was trying to go through any back door to get what he wanted.) Her lip curled. “I so hate it when you do that. Be allcondescending just because—” “Okay. Don’t get your Irish temper up.” Jack laughed and looked over her wavy brown hair, worn in some cool/teen style. When he’d come home he had found the quiet girl he’d left, had evolved into a fifteen year old with a wise cracking mouth on her. He’d joked, who are you, and what have you done with my baby sister. She’d given him a look of disgust and said, what do you expect me to do, worship you forever? That was true, she had, growing up. He kind of, secretly, liked this one with sass too.

Jack got up and looked around her room, posters on the wall, musical instruments in the corner with all sorts of books and things, no more pink and ruffles, there was a distinct Celtic theme here. He knew she and Santino and some of the others, played soccer at school, so that was a theme too. “Liam’s coming in, soon.” She gasped. “How come nobody told me?” “Only just found out myself. Not just Liam, but all of them, their planning a surprise.” “Not much of one, if you found out. Who told you?” “GW.” He grinned and picked up a globe, rolling it in his palms. “Don’t break that.” He grunted. “So, brat. Keep that secret, will you? Leigh and Levi, Jett, Remy, they’ll all be here.” “Wow. Why the reunion now?” “School is out, so Mora always comes home to work in the business, and Jett’s going to pick up Remy…” “Hey, did you hear, she’s got another martial arts trophy.” “I heard.” He nodded and laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me. Anyway, it’ll be great to have them all around this summer.” “Ha. It’ll be chaos, as usual.” She got up, took the globe, and put it back. “You’ll end up arresting Jett for breaking someone’s bones, and Liam—there’s that left over loathing between him and those (people) you’re so fond of.” “God, you are so dramatic.” He pushed at her playfully. “Typical teenager. It’s nothing more than a romance that didn’t work out.” “Yeah, because her Daddy thought he wasn’t good enough. Not that he will embrace you any tighter. You shoulda' learned from Liam’s mistakes.” “Whatever.” He grinned. Storm was perceptive. She’d doubtless heard all the rumors. “How is Levi going to manage it? I thought he got traded to some team…” “That’s not official. And not something, anyone’s celebrating. Least of all Levi.” She grimaced. “Yeah. His birth mom is destroying his career. The press just love her.”

Grunting Jack retorted, “Woman should be locked up if you asked me. She almost killed Aunt Brook, or got her killed. And the same to Levi. But still, not a word until he was making money.” “Yeah. Sucks. She’s crazy.” “But, as to your question, he is taking a break, trying to figure it all out. The pressure, the shit from the coaches and owners, it’s been a hellish year for him.” “I heard Coy say he wished Levi would just come home awhile and heal. He says the grind and pressure can make you bitter. I think he is afraid something’s bad wrong, because Levi hasn’t been home in two years.’ “I don’t know. It’ll be good to see everyone.” Jack headed for the door. “You better tell mom and dad where you’re going.” He laughed. “Yeah, all right.” In the great room, he reminded himself he needed to get a house. He had only been on the force a month though and the pay sucked. As it was, he was moonlighting just to pay off his vehicle. Climbing the stairs, he opened the glass doors and stepped out, smiling as he found his dad and step mom, Briane, as he thought he would, having their evening coffee, sitting on the lounger together. They were starting the performance season, regulars at the Old Mill, and doing rounds at the festivals. He eyed his Dad’s silvering hair, having been shocked when he came home one time from college and it had almost completely turned. Of course, Briane loved it. His dad was in ratty jeans, no shirt or shoes, and Briane in some sort of summer dress, her hair mid back was French braided. They were one of the coolest couples he knew, aside from his mom and Nick. Well Mitch and Madeline were still everyone’s favorites. Briane had taught him much over the years, musically and sharing her wisdoms. He now understood what had been going on back in the day when his dad was briefly married to his mom. (Though he really could not picture either parent with someone other than whom they were with.) She had taken him to Ireland; they had all gone together too. And to the U.K, he had spent a summer there with Liam. However, it was the love, the passion his parents had, their teasing and loving, that he grew up very much aware, and thankful for. “You look handsome.” Briane smiled at him.

“Thanks.” He went to the rail. “Going to Rafe’s to eat.” Jason, always physically fit, as the hard working, hard playing Coburn men were, said in his deep tones, “If you stop by the Tavern…” Jack laughed. “Dad, I’m a cop.” To which Jason quirked his brow, and muttered. “Yeah, well, I still have memories of GW and Alvin sneaking you in here…” Brown eyes met light blue. “I won’t drink too much.” He looked around at the pines. “I need to find a house.” “No hurry.” They said almost together. Smiling lovingly at them, he said, “Calm down. I will still be living close by. My job and all.” “I know.” Jason sighed. “I just got used to you being back home.” Shaking his head, Jack murmured, “I’m obviously home for good, so you two can relax. And until I find a place, you’ll have to put up with me.” Standing, Briane went to him and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re home. I worry about you though, that job. You could have—” “I know. I could have chosen something less dangerous. But since when did that appeal to me.” She laughed. “See, now that really worries me.” “Dad, tell her I’m joking.” Laughing, Jason got up and he had his arm around Briane while he told his son, with a wink over her head, “We’ll try not wait up for you.” “Don’t. I hope I’ll be getting laid tonight.” When he left, he could hear Jason mutter, “He’s more like Uncle Jude than me.” To which Briane retorted, “I think he’s exactly like you were. In fact, isn’t that just what you said before he interrupted us?” Jason grinned and murmured, “So—am I, getting laid tonight?” She flushed and backed him toward the banister. “Absolutely.” Later, getting in his truck, Jack mused on the friends and cousins. Young Santino had been working at Rafe’s since he could walk, and Mora, though in culinary school, came back to

work in the business every summer. Leigh… wow, he had thought a lot of her. Not everyone knew what it was like to have two successful and famous parents. Leigh did all the right things, was an honor student, now in college, but hungered to write. She talked to him a lot, called, and he saw where, as loving and grounded as her parent’s were, Leigh assumed an expectation was there for her to do something extra-ordinary… His thoughts circled to Levi, and he wondered too if that thing Levi had with Mora in high school was haunting him. Jack did not know the details, only that it blew up in Levi’s face, and he had taken a scholarship to the furthest away college he could get. It was not talked about. At least not in his hearing. There had been a time they all made a point of being at the lake for the gatherings, playing sports, music, making time. However, after that mess, Levi just stopped coming. Something was wrong. Not that Mora let on either. She was one of the most together people Jack knew. Or appeared so. Thinking of that brought his mind around to Sage. Shit, his sister was right. He did know she came to Rafe’s on Wednesday. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, since Liam had been burned by her old man. He had down played it down for Storm, but Adam Lennox had done everything dirty in the book to keep Liam away from Megan. Sage was his baby girl. Twenty-two or not, she was the princess of that dynasty. Yeah, there was plenty in the family who didn’t like Lennox. He didn’t like him. Moreover, Jack suspected his wealth came from crooked and illegal dealings…. Shit. Pulling off into the parking lot, Jack sat there for a while, seeing that expensive car Adam Lennox drove, a few rows up. He got his cell out and hit speed dial. “Hey?” “Levi. I didn’t wake you, did I?” “No. dude. Jack, how are you?” Sighing Jack shoved a hand through his hair and rubbed his neck. “Fine. No, fucking stupid. I don’t know.” “What’s up?” “Eh, you got your own shit to deal with.” “Um. Sounds like the grapevine has been active.” “No. nobody talks about details. I just know enough to figure

you are probably going through it. Sorry, I’m sitting at Rafe’s debating going in to crash and burn…” “Ah.” Levi laughed. “Are you coming in?” “Yeah, be in this weekend.” “You told your Dad?” “Um. Bout half hour ago. I was going to surprise him, but Dad, you know, he sweats all this stuff. He’s been all stressed because I haven’t come in much.” “It’ll be good to have us all together. Cookouts at the lake, boating, music, all the good times.” “I need that, for sure.” “I’ll let you go. See you this weekend.” “Okay. Jack?” “Yeah?” “You’re Coburn. You want it, go after it.” Laughing Jack hung up with, “Being a Coburn is exactly why I’ll go up in flames.” He really didn’t understand the part of him that was drawn to a woman he’d only spoken a handful of words too, thanks to her protective entourage. It was something—it was something he fucking couldn’t explain… And so it begins…

Author’s Note: Dear Readers, thank you for embracing the Bring on The Rain books. The first was published in 2005, and it took me 5 years to write. Much of that was because I did not trust my instincts so I kept changing it. Eventually, when I changed it back, stuck to my first gut-instinct, I sold the book, and the rest was history. (Laughs) Readers asked for a Book 2, and it took me a long time to write (I Run to you) mostly because I had to progress such a large cast 7 years, while still writing a “current” story, so it was not an easy book to write for me. In addition, I was going through some family loss and crisis during that time. In the end though, I did what I always do, trust my characters, and let them do their thing, and the writing of it was a great outlet for me too. (Getting back to writing always has been my greatest therapy when life gets me down.) You asked for Jason’s story and I promised a Novella—little knowing that this one would end up a full-length novel too! (I should know those Copper Creek men by now, huh.) These characters had more things to work out, more issues, than I anticipated. Again, I trusted them, and told their story as they dictated. Thank you for purchasing this book, and any or all of this series. Thank you, Readers, for allowing me to do what I love, write. Happy reading. Eve Asbury www.evesromance.com