The Right Wish Read online

  “My brother has arrived, but he’s not going to interfere. I’m the manager in charge on this tour now.” Sierra shook her head at me and the can of mace at Ben.

  “Whoa, Sierra, be careful with that,” I said. “It won’t be only an annoying bassist that gets doused if you accidently set off that thing.”

  “Back off, big brother.” The wavy ends of her blond hair seemed to spark with animus. “You know I’ve got this. I know exactly how to deal with insolent little worms.”

  Ben waggled his black brows. “Nothing about me is little or wormlike, darlin’.”

  “You’re not starting out on the right foot with me, Mr. Kennedy.”

  “But it’s not my foot I want you to consider.” Ben gave her the crooked grin that seemed to make the groupies do whatever he wanted.

  “Let’s get something straight.” Frowning, Sierra thumped her chest with her left hand, while the other gripped the canister of mace. “I’m your boss, not one of your playmates. You will show me proper respect at all times, or I’ll make your life very uncomfortable.”

  “I’m already uncomfortable. Well, my jeans are, just from looking at you, darlin’.”

  “That’s your problem, not mine. No innuendoes will be tolerated. Are we clear?” She gave him a hard look.

  “Crystal,” he said, his grin widening.

  “Crystal, Ms. Marshall.” Correcting him, she arched a brow.

  “I’m not going to refer to you by your last name. You’re younger than I am. How about I just call you boss?”

  “Boss works. I suggest you get on board and select your bunk. We depart in five.”

  “I hear you, boss.” Ben lifted his chin when she stepped back. “See you on board.”

  “You and everyone else will see me for a band meeting in the front lounge shortly. You are dismissed, Mr. Kennedy.”

  My lips curved as I watched Ben walk away. “You’re a total badass, sis.”

  “Thanks for letting me handle the situation on my own,” she said, her gaze narrowing as it followed Ben.

  “Wasn’t you I was worried about.” I frowned as Ben veered from the open bus door to talk to Camaro.

  Holding Dylan’s hand, she bobbed her head to acknowledge whatever he said, but her gaze shifted to me. I curled my fingers, beckoning her, and pointed to a spot right beside me.

  Shaking her head, Camaro turned back to Ben. He put his hand on her arm and leaned in. Was he going to kiss her good-bye?

  I might have growled. My hands clenched into fists, dual retribution locked, loaded, and ready to defend. I took a step toward her, but stopped when she backed away from him. Relieved I didn’t have to kick the shit out of Ben, I blew out the breath I’d been holding.

  “So that’s how it is.” Sierra gave me a wry look. “I guessed, but now I’m certain.”

  “Certain about what?”

  “You and Camaro.”

  “There is no me and Camaro.”

  “You growled just now when Ben put his hand on her.”

  Shit.

  “I’m not jealous.” Untrue. So untrue.

  “I didn’t say anything about jealousy, but . . .” She grinned. “Smoke’s practically coming out of your ears, big brother.”

  “Cam doesn’t have a can of mace on her,” I grumbled.

  “Maybe not, but it’s good you didn’t go barreling over there, or she’d know two things.”

  Annoyed, I scowled at her. “What?”

  “That you have a thing for her, and you don’t think she can take care of herself.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Are you going to tell her how you feel?”

  I’d been burned recently, and Cam was an unknown, a wild card. Not a definite for my win column. Her reaction to me making any sort of declaration was unclear. I needed to be very careful how I proceeded with her.

  “Uncle Brad.” Dylan skidded to a halt in front of me.

  “Hey, wild thing.” I leaned down and scooped him up.

  Cam trailed behind him, and her eyes met mine. They were soft, incredibly so. Maybe her reaction wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.

  “Uncle Rush says we have to go.” Bouncing in my hold, Dylan pointed to Rush, who was standing on the bottom step of the bus.

  “Time to go.” He waved. “We gotta roll, or we’re gonna get caught in midmorning traffic.”

  “Always traffic in LA,” I called back.

  “Google shows green all the way through the Cajon Pass.”

  “Really?” My brows rose. That area was almost always congested. “I guess you guys had better go.” Leaning down, I bussed Dylan’s cheek. “Gonna miss you, little guy.”

  “Mom says I can FaceTime you, and that you might even come out and visit us on the road. She said,” his brow scrunched, “you wouldn’t be able to help yourself.”

  I grinned. “She’s right.”

  “’Bye, big brother.” Sierra put her hand on my arm and went up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “Come see us anytime.” Inexplicably, she reached up and swiped her thumb across my face.

  “Why’d you do that?” I asked, then shook my head when she showed me the liberal dusting of powdered sugar Dylan had left behind. I smiled. “I’ll escort you two to the bus.”

  “Let’s say good-bye here.” She flicked her gaze to the idling vehicle before bringing it back to me. “I need to build my cred with the guys, and you need to let me. Even when it comes to Rush. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I got it. It was a good call.

  I put Dylan down. His mom took his hand, and she turned to Camaro.

  “Take care of my big brother for me while I’m away.”

  “I will. If he’ll let me.”

  “Oh, he’ll let you, all right.” Sierra smiled slowly and secretively like a cat who had sneakily sprung the canary from the cage and gobbled him down in a single bite.

  “Sis,” I said in a warning tone. “Don’t interfere.”

  “I know. I know. The group is my priority for the duration of the tour. And you have the rest under control, like you always do. But maybe you should be a little less deliberate when it comes to certain matters, don’t you think?”

  Frowning, I started to argue with her, but Dylan tugged on my sleeve, and I glanced down at him. “What is it?”

  “I’m going to take care of Mom. I’m going to play songs for her on the harmonica you gave me last night to help her sleep.”

  “That’s good. She’ll love that.”

  He bobbed his little golden-haired head. “I know she will. She says we all have jobs. You have yours, and that’s why you can’t go with us. Mom has hers. Now I have one too.”

  “You’ll do your job better than all of us. Love you, wild thing.”

  “Love you best, Uncle Brad!” Dylan waved over his shoulder as Sierra gently turned and led him away.

  I waved back and continued waving until the bus door closed. Stiffly, I shifted to withdraw a pair of sunglasses from my jacket pocket. I wanted to get them over my eyes to hide the emotion I could feel swimming within them.

  Cam watched me before I could get them in place, and smiled softly. “They’ll be okay, even while away, knowing they have you back here to rely on.” Her smile was like a beacon, illuminating the notes of a perfect melody.

  If she’d smiled at me like that the night we first met, I never would have been able to walk away.

  Chapter 18

  * * *

  Camaro

  “You’re beautiful,” Brad said softly, tucking his sunglasses into his jacket pocket.

  “What?” My eyes widened. I must have heard him wrong.

  “When you smile. Especially when you smile.” He cleared his throat and tilted his head, his gaze turning analytical. “And something’s different about you today.”

  My hair was down, and I’d worn a little makeup. Mascara, some lip gloss. I had on my favorite jeans and a cotton top. Both were Salvation Army finds, but the denim fit me like it was made for me, and
the black tee emblazoned with a big glittery red rose reminded me of my mom.

  I was going to an unfamiliar place with Brad, a man I was very attracted to, and I needed a confidence boost. I’d assumed he wouldn’t notice the minor changes, but surprisingly, he had.

  “I wouldn’t worry about Sierra and Dylan,” I said, feeling the need to redirect him away from the topic of me. I didn’t want him to guess that the extra time I’d put into my appearance had been for him.

  “Ben’s going to drive her nuts, and Dylan’s going to run her ragged. But she can handle it. She’s more than capable.” Brad dipped his chin, and his hair slid forward like it always did.

  I nearly lost my ability to reason coherently. My inner swoon was predictable.

  “She’ll be badass as a manager,” I said. “Like you are.”

  His lips curved up at my words.

  “I mean, she sure sounded like you this morning at the band meeting.”

  “You gave me a compliment. Don’t try to downplay it. You think I’m badass. I might have to get that inscribed on my business cards.”

  “Not sure my recommendation would be a selling point for your clients.” Smiling, I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see how much pleasure him appreciating my compliment gave me.

  The bus’s brakes hissed behind me. Turning, I felt a tug of sadness as I watched it pull away.

  “I’m going to miss her,” I whispered wistfully. “Jewel. Rush. The band. I felt like . . .”

  “Felt like what?” Brad’s voice was gentle, his expression soft when I turned to look at him.

  “These past few months since I moved in at Rush’s place, I felt like I was part of a family.” I made the telling admission, expecting him to refute it.

  “The sweet way you looked after everyone made it operate more like a functional one. Quite a feat to change that dynamic, considering the personalities involved.”

  “Most people respond well to kindness. In giving it away, I receive the greater gift.” As I shared my mother’s philosophy with him, his analytical head tilt deepened. “But I remember what you said—”

  “I said a lot of things,” he said, cutting me off. “You gave me a fresh start last night. Does that still stand?”

  “Yes, of course.” I nodded, wanting a fresh start with him too.

  “Good, I appreciate that.” His gaze searching, the curved brackets around his sexy mouth deepened. “Your hair’s down today. That’s what’s different. It looks nice. You look really nice.”

  “Thank you.” My stomach fluttered. I’d given him a compliment and gotten one in return. A kindness from him that made me feel like I’d received far greater.

  “Okay. They’re off.” He nodded in the direction of the bus as it turned out of the lot. “We should probably get going too. Where are your things?”

  “In the trunk of the SUV I came in.”

  “All right.” He turned, and I followed. Predictably.

  I smiled to myself as an idea for a story began to flow with that word as a repeated phrase for the transition points. Absorbed in my thoughts, I ran into Brad when he stopped unexpectedly.

  “Oops.” I jolted, swaying a bit as his warmth and citrus, woodsy scent hit me.

  “You okay?” He reached for me and frowned when I took a large step back.

  “I’m fine. Just . . .” I shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention. You know me. I was daydreaming.”

  “About what?” he asked companionably, continuing toward the back of the SUV with me beside him.

  “A story idea.” I glanced his way, noting as I had the previous night how I liked walking alongside him. Whether on purpose or subconsciously, he slowed the length of his strides to match my shorter ones.

  “What kind of story?” He knocked on the rear glass once for the driver to open the tailgate.

  “One for kids.”

  “Interesting,” he said offhandedly. Ducking under the lifted tailgate, he withdrew my gym-sized duffel bag and then waved to the hired driver. “Thanks.” He double-tapped on the glass before turning away from the vehicle with the strap of my bag on his shoulder. His wide, very strong shoulder.

  I sighed. Inwardly, of course.

  “My car’s over there.” He pointed, then reached for me again, his long fingers curling around my upper arm.

  I sucked in a breath. This time he was too fast for me to avoid his touch, and I wanted to moan from the bliss. My tee was short-sleeved. The warmth from his fingers flowed into and through me like an infusion of liquid sunshine spiked with a double shot of Irish whisky. My mind spinning and my legs as wobbly as if I’d truly knocked back a stiff drink, I didn’t protest as he led me to his Z.

  “The pearl-white finish is prettier in the daylight,” I said.

  “You are. I mean, you’re right about the car.” His voice sounded deeper, raspier.

  When I shifted to look at him, he dipped his chin as he clicked the locks, opened the small trunk, and put in my bag. “This duffel all you have?” He lifted his head, giving me an inquiring look.

  “Yeah.” I followed the silky slide of his hair with my eyes. “That’s everything. All my stuff.”

  “Truly?” He closed the trunk and glanced at me with a single brow lifted.

  “I don’t need much.” I raised my chin. “I learned a long time ago that life’s not about what we have, but who we have in it that’s important.”

  “I agree completely,” he said with a nod after a long pause. “But with the right company, it’s also pretty fucking fun to have a Z.”

  “I imagine it is.” I watched him coming closer. He had a smooth, confident stride and reached me in only a couple of steps.

  “Here,” he said, gesturing to the passenger door. “Let me get that open for you.”

  Brushing past me and making my heart race, he opened and held the door for me. Like a gentleman would do for a lady. Like my father had always done for my mom.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, experiencing a myriad of dizzying emotions as I glanced up at him through my lashes. Even though it probably didn’t mean anything beyond being a product of his Midwest upbringing, the simple kindness and respectfulness of his gesture stoked to a flame the flickering embers of a hope that had almost gone out inside me.

  “You’re welcome, my lady,” he said low and soft, waiting for me to get my legs inside before he closed the door.

  I reeled watching him round the sleek hood. Sure, because Brad in motion was reel-inducing, but also because of what he’d done, what he’d called me.

  It had been a long time since I’d felt like a lady.

  Breathing deeply to slow my racing heart, I ran my palm over the luxurious leather of the dash. “The photos in Car and Driver don’t do the Z justice,” I said to him when he opened his door and folded himself into the driver’s seat.

  “Read a lot of that magazine?” He glanced at me across the narrow width of the car.

  “Some.” I shrugged. “I always thought this car was super cool.” I reached across the small console to trace the silver Z in the center of the black steering wheel.

  “Wanna drive it?” he asked.

  I glanced up sharply and my lips parted. “May I?”

  “Absolutely.” Nodding, he grinned.

  I noted that he had varying expressions of amusement. This one was so large, it crinkled the corners of his amazing eyes.

  “But—”

  “No buts.” He stopped me from explaining that I didn’t have a valid driver’s license. “C’mon.”

  When he crooked his fingers at me, I jumped out without hesitation, practically flying at 7400 rpm as I rounded the hood, like I knew the Z could do. But I skidded to a screeching stop in front of him. He was holding the door open, which was nice, but the way he was positioned, I would have to slide my backside against his front to get in.

  “Um.” I held out my hand, palm up. “If you give me the key, I can get in while you get in the other side.”

  “Sure.” Giving
me a funny look, he dropped the Z-emblazoned fob into my hand.

  “Thanks for letting me drive it,” I said, watching him retrace his steps around the car. My fingers closed tightly around the fob.

  “It’s no big deal. It’s just metal and plastic. An object. Fun, but not a treasure like a person you care about can be.” He gave me a nod before he ducked to get in.

  “Wow.” I breathed out in awe as I sank into the driver’s seat, way into it. The seats were low to the ground, black, inset with red, and contoured. I got right to work adjusting my seat position and the mirrors.

  “You seem familiar with where everything is on this vehicle.” His deep voice was acoustic perfection in the small cabin. “Have you driven a Z before?”

  “Not this particular model,” I said, answering carefully.

  “The touring version?” He watched me closely.

  I shook my head. “The GT.”

  “That’s a $100,000 car.”

  “It wasn’t mine.” I glanced at him. “It was my boyfriend’s.”

  Brad’s eyes flared.

  “Chris. My former boyfriend.” Before he’d started drinking heavily, crashing, and crushing both his dreams and all of mine too in the end. “I can tell you’re shocked that I ever had a non-paying boyfriend.”

  “That’s not it, Cam.”

  “It didn’t last. Well, the havoc he wreaked in my life did,” I said bitterly, then swallowed hard. “I have no one to blame but myself. It’s my own fault, because I gave my trust to someone I never should have.” There had been no ice princess happily-ever-after in real life for me.

  “Cam,” Brad said softly. “I’m sorry. I know how much trusting the wrong person can hurt.”

  “No, you don’t.” I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut.

  Remembering where I’d been, what I’d lost, and begging for the dregs of approval from my father made me want to cry. I hadn’t cried in years. Not about that. Taking in one deep breath and letting it out, then another, I managed to bring my raging emotions under control.

  “I’m sorry.” I opened my eyes. Reality and consequences that I could never escape were always there waiting for me. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Maybe you’re devastated by Bree right now, and I just dismissed it like it doesn’t matter. Which, of course, it does.”