Hillbilly Rockstar (35 page)

You did the right thing
.

It's painful now, but in time you'll see it never could've worked.

You're an idiot
.

You'll never ever find another man like him. He gets you. He loves you.

With the warring thoughts pinging in her brain, there was no way she could sleep.

“Ma'am? Would you like another drink?”

Liberty eyed the empty beer can. Might as well. It wasn't like she was driving home from the airport.

And nobody will be anxiously waiting your arrival home. Get used to being alone again.

She bit back a sob.

Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself—you did this to yourself.

“Ma'am?” the flight attendant prompted.

“Sure.” She wiped her eyes. “I'll have another beer. No. Make it two.”

“I'm sorry. I can only sell you one at a time.”

“Shame.”

The beer wasn't as cold as she liked and it was plenty foamy. She set it aside.

She stared out the window into the inky blackness. Would she have a text message from him when she landed? Would he have tried to call her?

No. She'd left him. She'd made it clear they were done. He'd offered her the best of himself, trying to find common ground. What had she offered him besides the word no? She hadn't even considered compromising.

Fuck.

She slammed the beer, grabbed her iPod and shoved in her earbuds. She'd drown out the unhelpful voices. She deliberately chose songs that wouldn't remind her of Devin. No country. No Maroon 5. No Foo Fighters. No Wright Brothers. Incubus, Staind, Nickelback or Evanescence oughta do the trick.

Liberty jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. She looked around, momentarily forgetting where she was. Somehow she had dozed off.

The flight attendant smiled. “Sorry. We're about to land.”

“Thanks.”

After she'd cleared the security exit point, she tried to ignore the passengers being met by loved ones—even in the middle of the night. She saw their smiles, their tears, their hugs and kisses. Their joy should have no bearing on hers.

But it did. She'd never felt so alone.

Jesus. Don't fucking cry.

She dragged her weary body past the luggage carousels, looking for her flight number. That's when she saw him.

“Garrett? What are you doing here?”

“Makin' sure you get home safely. Lots of crazies out there this time of night.” He closed the distance between them. “Liberty, you look like hell.”

You should see how shredded I am on the inside.

“Did I accidentally send you a copy of my itinerary?”

He shook his head.

“Then how did you know I'd be here?”

Garrett gave her a very level look. “He called me.”

Her heart nearly stopped. “When?”

“Tonight. After you left LA. He didn't want you to come home with no one to meet you.”

That's when she lost it and started bawling right there in baggage claim.

Garrett—strong, tough, take-no-shit Garrett—pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried.

By the time she'd calmed herself, the carousel had stopped spinning and her four bags were the only ones remaining.

Garrett leaned back to look at her intently, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “I never should've let you take this assignment.”

Not having the life-changing experience with Devin was more awful to contemplate than walking away from him. “It's fine.”

“No, it's not. You're not. We need to talk. But you need to get your head straightened out first, okay?”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, you're officially off duty next week. And, yes, that's SOP after a long assignment, not special treatment because you're a girl.” Garrett strode to the carousel and hefted two of the duffel bags. “Jesus, woman. What do you have in here?”

“Clothes. Shoes.”

“I don't even want to know what's in those.” He pointed to the other duffel bags she'd hefted. “You have a lot of baggage.”

You have no idea.

“Come on. The car is double-parked.”

Liberty settled in Garrett's plush Lincoln Navigator. She lived a solid thirty minutes from DIA—without traffic. Her boss wasn't the type to make idle chatter, but the silence just caused the voices in her head to get louder and louder.

“Liberty? You okay?”

No
. “Why?”

“You sort of growled.”

Jesus. Would this emotional basket case shit never end?

“Look. I know you said I needed my head on straight before we talk, but the deal is, I need to talk to someone now. Since this . . . entanglement with Devin grew out of an assignment, and because of nondisclosure agreements, I can't call either of my sisters and cry on their shoulders. So it looks like you're my only choice as confidant—whether or not you like it.”

After a few moments, he nodded. “Keep the sex stories to a minimum, okay?”

“Deal.” Liberty inhaled a deep breath and started to talk.

D
evin was more than a little jet-lagged when he pulled up to his sister Renee's place in Laramie two days after he'd left LA. But guilt quickly replaced exhaustion when he remembered he hadn't been here in three years.

He might've hidden in his rental car all damn day if Renee hadn't come out and pointedly waited on the deck for him.

Grabbing the bouquet of fall flowers off the passenger's seat, he climbed out and followed the brick path up to the deck, noticing the new landscaping and all new siding.

He stood in front of her, not knowing where to start or what to say.

Renee smiled at him. “Flowers? The only time Chuck gets me flowers is when he's done something to piss me off.”

Devin took the first step and hugged her. “I haven't done nothin' wrong. Besides bein' the world's shittiest brother.” Maybe he shouldn't have started with that. “I saw them and thought you had some like these in your wedding?”

She put her nose in the bouquet. “I'm surprised you remembered that.”

“Like I could forget you got married earlier than you planned just so you could fulfill Michelle's dream of bein' a flower girl before . . .” He cleared his throat and looked away. “She had so damn much fun tossing them petals in the air. I don't remember much else, besides Michelle wearing that big floppy hat because she didn't have hair.”

Renee's breath caught.

Devin's gaze snapped back to her.

“That's the first time I've heard you mention her name in . . . years.”

“It's not because I don't think of her,” he said brusquely.

She hugged him. “I know. I'm glad you called. I'm really glad you're here. Let's go inside.”

Renee's house was a standard three-bedroom ranch, a family place filled with everything that made it a home. Comfy furniture, pictures, and the clutter from a husband and two kids. She pointed to the dining room. “Have a seat. I'll bring coffee out.” He heard her humming while she put the flowers in water. She returned with two cups of coffee and a plate of homemade banana bread.

“Mom's recipe?” he said, stealing a slice.

“Nope. Mine. And it's better.”

He took a bite and nodded. “It is.”

They sipped and nibbled in silence, and Devin wondered if he had the guts to start this conversation.

Renee fiddled with the quilted place mat. “So, Devin, what brings you by? Because even when you're in the neighborhood, we don't always see you.”

“Yeah. Well. I'm a piece of work, aren't I?”

“Let me start over. Do you have bad news you want to deliver in person?”

He met Renee's eyes then. Eyes identical to his. Eyes identical to Michelle's. “No. I've just come to some realizations. You probably think I don't come around here or don't call much because I think I'm too good for—”

“Stop.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know why you don't come around here. Why you talk to Mom and Dad just enough times throughout the year that they don't think you've forgotten about them. It's not because of you being famous. It's because of Michelle.”

Devin looked at the banana bread crumbs on his plate.

“You started pulling away well before you became Devin McClain country superstar. I also know that's why you can visit your friends in Muddy Gap and Rawlins and drive right past here.”

“Like I said, Renee, I ain't been up for brother of the year for a lot of years.”

She was quiet for a moment. “During those two years Michelle was so sick, you never let your friends know how bad it was, did you?”

He shook his head.

“So they didn't know why you dropped out of all your activities?”

“No.” He'd come home every day after school to be with her. His biggest fear was the day he'd get home and Michelle wouldn't be there. After that happened . . . he stayed away from home as much as possible.

“Then, after she died—at least with them—you bounced back to being charming, fun-loving Devin Hollister. I bet even now if I asked Kyle Gilchrist or Hank Lawson or Eli Whirling Cloud or Bran Turner or Reese Davidson about that time, they never saw the broken part of your soul.”

“Mostly because they were goin' through rough times of their own. Kyle almost died in a motorcycle accident. Hank, Abe and Celia lost both their parents at once. Eli's dad went to jail. Bran watched his grandparents' health failing. Reese enlisted to avenge his brother's death. It's harder for people to know what to say or what to do when it's a kid who dies, so no one brought it up with me. I think the fact we could put all that sorrow, avoidance, hurt and anger aside, at least when we were together, it's what's kept us friends throughout the years.”

“I don't disagree. But . . . you wouldn't speak of Michelle even to us. Mom and Dad were so lost in grief for two years after Michelle passed that by the time they came out of it, you were gone.”

Sometimes when Devin was really feeling sorry for himself, he felt he'd lost both his sisters and his parents that year. Renee had her own life with Chuck. Mom and Dad had each other. Devin had no one. But that's when he found music. “I don't have any resentment toward them for that.” He paused. “Do they know that?”

“I think so. But I'm sure they'd like to hear it from you.”

“I . . .” He inhaled and blew out a puff of air. “I'll keep that in mind. I plan to swing by and see them today.”

“That's progress.” She paused. “Do you resent me?”

He frowned at her. “Why would I resent you?”

“Because I was so wrapped up in my new husband and trying to be there for Mom and Dad, even when they shut me out, that I didn't have
enough energy left for you. I shoved aside how awful it must've been for you, having them shut you out too—but you had to live with them.”

“It was like livin' with ghosts,” he said softly. “They were shells of who they'd been. The house was so . . . quiet.”

“That breaks my heart. You were just a kid yourself. I had my own place and didn't have that loss constantly in my face.”

“Didn't mean it wasn't there.”

“You were closer in age to her than I was. Your rooms were right next door to each other. I can't imagine having to walk past her room, knowing Mom and Dad had left it exactly as it was before she . . .”

Devin hadn't ever gone back in her room. And when his parents decided to sell the house and asked him if he wanted anything of Michelle's, he still couldn't face stepping foot in the place that was her safe haven.

“She was so lucky to have you.” Renee attempted a watery smile. “She thought you hung the moon and stars.”

“I did. Literally. Remember that damn solar system she had to have hanging above her bed?” He pointed at her. “You bought it for her. She worshipped you, Renee.”

“It was mutual,” she murmured. “I remember being so annoyed when Mom and Dad told us they were having another baby. I was thirteen and totally icked out by the idea they'd had sex. Then they brought that screaming, pink bundle home from the hospital and I fell in love.”

“You carried her around everywhere like a princess. And I mostly ignored her until she started to do tricks.”

Renee laughed. “She would do anything to get your attention.”

“She was such a pain in the ass sometimes.” And then she was gone. For the first two months after she'd died, he'd beaten himself up, remembering all the times he'd been impatient and mean to her before she'd gotten sick.

“It's good, us talking like this.”

“Yeah. It's been . . . hard for me to remember the good times before everything changed.” He spun his coffee cup. “How did you deal with it?”

“Poorly. Very poorly. Poor Chuck. Eventually it got better—but never
easier. Especially not when Chuck was ready to have kids. I put him off for nine years.”

“Why?”

“I was so terrified that I'd have a child and it would . . .”

Die.

He stared at her in shock. He knew they were married a decade before starting a family, but he'd never asked why. “What changed your mind?”

“Mom did.” Tears freely spilled down her cheeks. “She said she'd never regret having Michelle even when losing her nearly broke her. Then we talked about the joy Michelle had brought to all of us, even though it was only for a short time.” She sniffed. “Lord, I think I was pregnant the next month.” Renee wiped her cheeks. “Christopher and Becca are such blessings to me now. I can't imagine my life without them.”

“They seem like good kids.” Not that he'd spent much time with them. He remembered watching Liberty with her nephews and being jealous of her easy, loving relationship with them. He had no idea how he'd ever get that with Chris and Becca since he'd missed a good chunk of their growing-up years.

“What happened in your life that you're ready to deal with all of this?” Renee asked cautiously.

Thinking of Liberty, he managed a smile. “I met a woman. An amazing woman.”

“And she's encouraging you to . . . ?”

“Open up about family stuff. I told her about Michelle right after we met.”

Renee raised an eyebrow.

“It caught me off guard, her bein' so easy to talk to. It's rare in my life, not knowin' who I can trust. I have good friends who don't know that I had a younger sister, let alone lost her. As far as dealin' with it back then? I just plain cut and run. How I'm dealin' with it now probably ain't much better, but in my defense, I'll say I handle it in my own way.”

“By entertaining kids at children's hospitals, by donating blood, by being in the bone marrow donation database, by creating and funding the Hollister Foundation that pays for siblings to have outings and sleepovers near the hospital when one sibling is in treatment.”

It was strange to hear his sister speak of those things with such
admiration, because they never talked about it. “How'd you hear about that stuff?”

“Mom and Dad. They're proud of what you do in Michelle's memory, but they're afraid if they tell you, you'll pull away even more.”

Devin snorted. “Is that even possible?”

“Honey, give yourself a break. I know you don't do any of it for the publicity, and you blush and stammer like you're doing now if anyone brings it up. But it will get out one of these days, and you'll have to address the questions about why you do it and why you hid it.”

“I know. I'm ready for that. In the past four months I've talked about Michelle more than I ever remember. It's been . . . good. And Liberty—”

“Wait. Your girlfriend's name is Liberty? Geez, Devin. Please tell me she's not a stripper.”

He grinned. He could hardly wait to tease Liberty with that one. “Actually, she's been my bodyguard.” It felt good to tell Renee everything about how they'd met—including his demand that the former soldier make herself over, which earned him a whap on the arm. Just like old times.

After he finished, Renee said, “She does sound amazing. I can't wait to meet her.”

“You will.” Devin had a plan to put in place as soon as he returned to Denver. “She's close to her sisters. They didn't have it easy growin' up, but they're determined to be part of one another's lives as adults. It's a good example for me to see what they've got and what we've been missin'. I wanna change that, Renee. I really do. With you and your family and with Mom and Dad.”

Renee squeezed his hand. “I'm glad.”

“Liberty's sister Harper lives in Muddy Gap, which is why she took a job in Denver, to be closer to her.”

His sister looked at him with surprise. “Is there a chance you'll be close by too? Like . . . permanently?”

“If I have my way? Yes.”

“You always get your way.”

Devin grinned. “Yep.”

“God, you've been that cocky little shit since you were a kid.” She smiled. “I've missed seeing it.”

He smiled back. “You'd better get used to seein' it again.”

Four days had passed since Liberty had left LA.

Four days that seemed like four thousand years.

She forced herself to keep the appointment she'd made with her realtor, back when she believed looking at houses would keep her mind off Devin.

Ha. Fat fucking chance of that.

Looking at real estate only reminded her of how foolish she'd been in thinking she could focus on the big bonus at the end of the job and not the emotional devastation from leaving the man she loved, who'd been way more than just a job to her from the start.

After her talk with Garrett, where she'd laid it all out, her boss insisted she take the week off to think things through.
Quit being a dumb-ass; call Devin; decide what level of commitment you can give him and GSC before you even think about walking into my office.