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“Can we talk inside?” he said. “It’s hot out here and my guitars will cook.” He pointed back at the pickup he’d borrowed from Billy to cart his gear over.
“You brought guitars?” Faith’s brows rose.
“A few,” he said.
“Does that mean you’re staying awhile?” Mina asked. Her expression was still neutral, but was that maybe a hint of hopeful in her voice?
“Did you two join the Spanish Inquisition while I was away?” Zach asked. He took a step back, angling himself toward the pickup. “Look, we can talk inside, but I’d like to bring my bags in first, if that’s okay?”
“Fine.” Faith climbed to her feet. “We’ll meet you inside.”
The implication being that big brothers who’d pissed off their sisters got to carry their own damn luggage.
Well, maybe he’d earned that much. He watched his sisters disappear into the guesthouse, united in their disapproval, and then turned to deal with his stuff.
Ten minutes later he had a pile of gear in the entry hall and no more excuses to avoid explaining why he was home. He could hear Faith and Mina out back in the kitchen, laughing about something. He headed in that direction.
One of them had opened the place up. The house was cool, ceiling fans circling lazily in each room, catching the air coming through the windows. It was warm outside but not hot enough to need air-conditioning, and the sea breeze brought the smell of salt and the flowers in the garden. A familiar smell that settled over him, making all the tense muscles down his spine relax fractionally. What he really wanted was to swim. Dive into the ocean and let it wash his problems away for a few minutes. The water would still be on the cool side, but that was oddly appealing.
But first, his sisters.
The laughter died when he walked through the door to the kitchen. Mina and Faith sat at the small dining table near the windows that looked out over the patio to the ocean beyond. They’d made coffee, they both had mugs in front of them. And, hallelujah, there was a third mug on the table. So either they weren’t completely annoyed at him, or maybe they’d put arsenic in his cup. Either way, he needed caffeine, so he’d take the risk. He’d caught a red-eye to get into L.A. to meet up with Eli and Billy the day before, and they’d been up early today to get to Billy’s boat.
He was running on fumes. The smart thing to do would be to sleep of course, rather than pour more coffee down his throat, but if his sisters were determined to talk, then coffee it was going to be.
He sat, reached for the mug, drank about one third of it in several rapid gulps.
“Billy been keeping you up late?” Faith asked. “Or was it Eli?”
“How is Eli?” Mina asked, her tone a shade warmer than Faith’s.
“Recovering,” Zach said. “His ankle is still healing but he’s getting around. He’s got a decent amount of physical therapy in his future but for now he mostly just needs to rest up. I think that’s why Billy dragged him out here.”
“Dragged? That’s an interesting description of coming home,” Faith said.
He put his coffee down. “Eli has a life outside Lansing. Some people do, you know. I’m sure he would rather be back in L.A., doing his job.”
Faith didn’t bat an eye at his sarcastic tone. “Which brings us back around to the subject of why you aren’t off somewhere exotic doing your job, brother mine? Care to share?”
He thought he saw Mina wince slightly as the air between him and Faith turned a little electric. They’d always been the passionate two, arguing about music and life. They’d always been able to hug it out and forget at the end of the fight too. Until last year. Zach had pulled out of appearing at CloudFest at the last minute and Faith had not taken it well. In fact, she’d pretty much ripped him a new one. Perhaps deservedly. After all, he’d kind of done to her what Ryder had just done to Zach and the rest of the band. Left her high and dry.
Fuck. He rubbed a hand over eyes that increasingly felt like sandpaper. “Look, Faith, I know I’m not your favorite person right now but how about I just tell you why I’m here and we can fight about whatever you want after I’ve had a chance to get some sleep?”
Faith’s lips pressed together, but then she nodded. Mina finally smiled when she saw Faith relax back into the chair.
“Okay, that’s a temporary truce,” Mina said. “So, spill.”
He took another swig of coffee. Mostly to make sure the string of curses that floated through his head whenever he thought of Ryder weren’t the words that came out of his mouth when he started to talk.
“Ryder wants to take a year off. Fringe Dweller is on hiatus for that time. So Jay thought it would be a good time for me to record a solo album.”
Faith’s brows shot up. Mina’s mouth had made a perfect O.
“You want to record here?” Faith asked.
He understood her surprise. He’d always been determined not to ride on Grey’s name, and Grey and Blacklight were indelibly linked with Cloud Bay and Lansing.
“Jay thinks it’s a hook. Give us some leverage with a label to get a decent deal if we can appeal to some of Blacklight’s audience.”
