“I believe you’re right.”
I glance over at Alexis in the passenger seat as we drive up the 101 to Brendan and Lauren’s place outside of Santa Barbara. Brendan prefers being a little farther out of the hustle and bustle of LA, and I haven’t heard Lauren complain, so she must have enough in the area to keep her occupied.
Alexis has barely said a word since we got in the car almost an hour ago, which isn’t like her. I’ve left her to her thoughts, not wanting to add to her anxiety, but the longer she’s silent, the more concerned I become.
“So Jonathan and Gabby flew in for our dinner.”
She nods, and I think her gulp would be audible if not for the road noise. “Yeah. You mentioned that.”
I nod too, feeling awkward around her for the first time ever, really. This is awful. Why is this so awful? We have chemistry. We click. We make awesome music together and in the bedroom …
So why does meeting my brothers make her so nervous?
“Gabby and Lauren are both really excited to meet you,” I try. Maybe my sisters-in-law are less threatening.
“Uh-huh.”
Finally tired of attempting to be subtle, I just go straight at the problem. In my experience, it’s usually the best approach anyway. “Why are you so nervous?”
She lets out a strangled laugh. “Uh, well, lets see, shall we?” She holds up a finger. “Your mom already hates me without even meeting me, and from what you’ve said, your brothers are talking to her. Or at least Brendan is.”
“My brothers know how she is,” I interject before she can get to her next point, because of all the things she might have to be nervous about, this is definitely not one of them. “Her opinions won’t color theirs. I promise.”
She gives me a doubtful look and continues before I can decide whether or not to go into great detail about the stunts my mother pulled where Gabby and Lauren were concerned and how my brothers each handled that.
“Your older brother is a massive star. And his wife, who you claim is excited to meet me, is one of the best songwriters on the planet.”
“Well, I mean—”
Her withering look cuts me off before I can counter that with anything.
“And if that weren’t enough, your other brother, who has unreasonably agreed to produce an album for us, is one of the most sought-after producers in the industry. Our label tried to get him for Golden Enigma’s first studio release, and he said no. Do you hear me, Colt? He’s already turned me down once, and that was when I was repped by a major recording label. Why the hell is he going to produce even a single for me now?”
“Because you’re my wife,” I say quietly.
For some reason that seems to deflate her. “Because I’m your wife,” she repeats. “I don’t even know what that means anymore. Everything is all tangled up and …” She shakes her head. “I don’t understand my life anymore.”
I suck in a deep breath, filtering through all my reactions for something that will be reassuring. But the problem is, I’m not really sure why my brother helping her because she’s my wife is upsetting. Is it the wife part? Or the fact that Brendan’s my brother? Or …? I feel like I’m missing something crucial here, and I don’t like it. And I really don’t like the way my heart seems to shrink at the quiet sorrow in her voice.
Letting go of the steering wheel, I reach for her hand, threading my fingers through hers and bringing her hand to my lips before releasing it. There’s too much traffic to drive one handed for long.
“Walk me through why you’re upset about being my wife, please.”
“Oh, Colt, no. No no no. That’s not—”
I throw a glance her way, one eyebrow raised. “That’s sure what it sounded like.”
She blows out a breath and covers her face with her hands. “I just … I feel like I’m taking advantage.”
A blue car whizzes past us on the left as I mull that over. “Isn’t that … I mean, that’s the deal, right? I help you, and you help me? My contacts, which include both of my brothers, are part of what I offered you. You weren’t upset about me using that same network to get concerts booked all over southern California over the next weeks and months.”
She lifts her hands and drops them in her lap again. “That’s different.”
“How?”
Another withering glare. “You know how. Don’t be dumb. Your brothers think that this is more than a business deal. They want to get to know me. This is a meet-the-family situation, and it makes me uncomfortable. I didn’t really care that your mom didn’t want to meet me, because it made it easier to keep things separate. But this? Your oldest brother and his wife flying in just for this dinner so they can meet me? This is crazy! Don’t you see that?”
“Is it really, though?” I counter. “I mean, I know how things started, but …” Suddenly I’m not so sure I should finish that sentence.
“But what, Colt?” she whispers when the silence lingers for too long.
It’s my turn to blow out a long breath. “But things have changed. Haven’t they? This is turning into something more. Something like a real relationship. And since we’re already married …”
Her laugh is hollow. Bitter. “See? This is why I didn’t want our relationship to turn physical. I knew emotions would get involved, and it would just make things messy.”
I flinch. I can’t help it. “It was always going to get messy,” I tell her calmly. Far more calmly than I feel. “I thought we agreed that avoiding sex would be just as messy as having it. Didn’t we?”
She swallows hard, but doesn’t say anything.
“Fine.” I flip on my blinker and pull into the right lane, preparing to take the next exit, ice running through my veins.
“Colt? What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to take the next exit. I’ll call Brendan and apologize. Make up some excuse. You don’t want to meet my brothers? You don’t want it to be messy? Fine. We won’t go.”
“Colt, no. Don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?” The ice is melting rapidly and turning into fire. I want to stay cold. Hard. But I can’t. “Give you what you want?”
“This isn’t what I want!” she yells.
I take the next exit and pull into a gas station parking lot, slamming the car into park once we’re stopped. When I look at her, we’re both breathing hard. “Then what do you want?” I grit out.
She stares at me, her eyes sparking with fire equal to mine. Then she slams her hand on the dash. “Dammit! I want things to be easy. I want my old life back. I want my friends to still be performing with me, and I want my label to not think I’m worthless without them. I want you to care about me, and I want your brothers to like me for real, and I want to not feel like I’m trying to pull one over on them by putting on a show!”
My mouth drops open, and I replay her words in my head a few times, pulling them apart and putting them back together, making sure I really heard what I think I heard. “So you want this to be real?”
Her eyes practically bug out of her head, and she looks like she’s about to choke. She clenches her hands into fists. “Yes, dammit! I want this to be real, and I hate that I want that when I don’t really know what you’re thinking.”