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His best friend was an Epiphone freak. They’d been on the hunt for a decent Sheraton ‘62. “Limited edition with all the original hardware.”
Zeke stood. “You’re really not dying, right?”
He pulled him in for a hug. “No, I’m not dying.” He slapped his back. “It was just there. Like it was meant to be.” He stepped back and crossed his arms. “I need to figure out that barn and this should keep your attention on the rehearsal.”
Zeke hated to rehearse more than anything. He’d play for hours in a jam session or under searing lights, but ask him to put together a setlist and the guy was looking for the door. “I had some of my equipment delivered to the park like I usually do.”
“Good.”
He stroked the fret-board lovingly, then hurried around to the stove. “It’s your fault we have extra crispy potatoes.”
“Best kind there is.”
“There is truth in that statement.” Zeke scraped the potatoes onto a plate with the eggs and bacon.
They ate at the island standing up as they’d done hundreds of times before. He filled Zeke in on the artists that were coming up for rehearsal tonight, and the ones that would be in over the next few days. Logan still had to hear back from a few people and to call his manager for an update.
All in all, things were shaping up.
Z helped him pack up the truck after they ate. He brought a half dozen guitars down to the barn. He knew what to use for the open air show on Sunday. The little barn was going to be the wild card.
They drove through the shopping area of town, Zeke leaning out the window with a matching Cody sharing the space. People recognized him as usual and his best friend shouted out friendly hellos. He and Z had the uncanny ability to remember names and it came in handy with networking. However, Z, used it with fans and promoters to a degree that astonished Logan.
It didn’t matter if they were store clerks or store owners, Zeke shouted out to anyone who’d engage with him, as they crawled down Main Street. By the time they’d passed the park and turned off Bennett Lane, Zeke was happily chirping about all the people in town.
“So, what’s with the hat place I saw? That wasn’t here last year.”
Logan parked and hopped out of the truck. “That one and the bookstore are new since the fall.”
“Hot store owners?” He sighed. “Probably not. Who wears hats these days?”
“The Princess of Wales.”
Zeke pushed out his lower lip. “Truth. So the shop owner is hot? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I don’t know, man.”
“How about the bookstore owner?”
“Always on the make. Can’t you take a night off? The town will be full of girls Friday night.”
“That, my friend, was not an answer. So, the bookstore owner is hot.”
Hot. The word usually covered a host of things about a woman. Z wasn’t quite as juvenile as he sounded, but he was close. But this time, Logan didn’t have the faintest clue how to describe Izzy. Classy, soft, gorgeous, ballsy, uppity—the list was as varied as the woman.
Zeke slid in front of him. “Well, well…more than hot.”
“Stop.”
“Okay, way more than hot. Did you break your own rule, Lo?”
“No.”
“So grouchy and final. Maybe if you broke your rule then you’d get some sleep. After sex sleep is the best. Relaxing and brain draining.”
“That’s because you think with the wrong head ninety percent of the time.”
“Nah, eighty-five.” Zeke waggled his ey
