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She was a small town girl and I was a big city guy. By choice. By lifestyle. The walls of the town had been closing in on me since I arrived.
Even if everything looked a lot different with the soft light of morning and a night spent so pleasurably behind me. My muscles were still loose from the hot shower.
And from Ivy.
I scraped the snow and icy shite off my windshield with a credit card and my jacket sleeve. I might be in a better mood for obvious reasons, but I was no more enamored of snow.
Playing with Ivy in it had been entertaining. She was like a candle in the darkness. Snow itself, however, was vile.
I got behind the wheel and started the engine and the heater. I still needed gas and would take care of that before I set off for Kellan’s.
Pumping gas when it was nearly subzero bloody well sucked. At least the storm had finally mostly ended.
Bright side? It was much easier to find Kellan’s cabin in the woods when the road wasn’t fully obscured by a curtain of white. Fancy that.
I parked at the end of the driveway behind a hulking Jeep and a mini SUV and got out to more snow pelting me in the face, this time from the branches of the tree above me. A peeved-looking squirrel shook the branch again just for spite.
I tipped my hand to him. “Try getting laid, mate. I’ve found it brightens the mood.”
Something came flying at me and landed on my sneaker.
A nut.
I laughed out loud.
“Don’t give up faith. I had to wait too. Gotta watch for opportunities.”
“Who the hell are you talking to?” Kellan’s voice boomed from the little porch behind me. I turned and found him looming in the doorway, massive and broad-shouldered and blue faux-hawked as always. Only difference from his publicity snaps was the baby clad in a snuggly sweater, jeans, and boots in his arms.
The kid was crying. Surprise.
“Does that child ever stop squalling?” It was a better question than explaining I’d just been conversing with a squirrel about sex.
At least the squirrel hadn’t conversed back. That would’ve been problematic.
“He’s sick. He’s also two. Those things tend to cause babies to cry.” His son picked that moment to cluck Kellan in the chin, who barely flinched. Must be used to such abuse.
I shook my head, glancing at the squirrel out of the corner of my eye. He had another nut between his paws, ready to launch.
Next one he threw, I was lobbing it back. I was in a good mood—hell, a great one—but that didn’t mean I’d tolerate rudeness.
“Are you coming inside, or would you rather debate
the behavior of children from the driveway?”
Kellan’s even tone made me chuckle. He was such a father. How did that change happen? I had to imagine Kellan had been the typical rockstar, pre-wife and baby. Did a light just go on one day and the appeal of groupies lessened?
I didn’t have such interactions with the fairer sex because let’s face it, I did not look like Kellan. The guy probably weighed close to two-hundred pounds, most of it muscle. He also had swagger and killer pipes. I was more on the intellectual side of things, which meant my appeal to women waxed and waned depending on my rep. When I had my name on a few hits, the offers came fast and furious. When I was in a dry period, my phone didn’t ring.
The time or two I’d sat in with my mate Ian’s band, I’d nearly had to hire a goddamn bodyguard to keep the women away. But I didn’t do that often. And even when the access was there, I rarely took advantage.
I had sex as stress relief. Relationships I barely had at all. The last time I’d been serious with a woman hadn’t ended well.
Understatement of the century. So, I’d learned to steer clear.
Mostly.
God only knows how Ivy had viewed my unpracticed seduction routine. We’d been together, so I supposed I couldn’t have done too badly. She’d had enough grace to forgive me in any case. I was hardly the slick rockstar, even if I had occasion to pick up a guitar and sing now and then. Usually when I’d had a few too many with Ian in the pub.
