Page 20 of To Belong Together
“I hear all the lyrics about the life of a rock star.”
“Those aren’t our songs or our lives.” Awestruck wasn’t a Christian band, but they held to a standard that allowed Gannon and John to live out their faith on a public stage. Wild partying had been their former bassist’s way of life, but they’d fired Matt. Rumor had it, he was clean now, but Awestruck had since added a morality agreement to the contract, which Philip, Matt’s replacement, had signed.
“Must be nice to be so perfect.”
“I’m not.”
“Yeah. Well. Tell Mom and Dad that.”
Mom and Hank, the only father Kate was old enough to remember, might be proud of him, but they knew John had his faults. Like the ways he’d tested Hank early on, making sure he wouldn’t harm the family the way his biological father had.
Kate dried her hands. “Tanner’s a good guy. A bachelor party is a once-in-a-lifetime deal. As long as he comes home to me every night, plenty of women have it worse than I do.”
“You’re worth so much more, Kate.”
Her back stiffened, and she dipped her chin. “It’s bad taste for you to mention anything about a bachelor party to the bride. The wedding’s two weeks away. Stop stirring up trouble.”
Meaning, he guessed, that he’d planted doubts she didn’t want to deal with because, if she reexamined her decision, the whole relationship could unravel.
“If you know what you want and what you’re getting, this is the last I’ll mention it.”
“I do, okay?”
“And I was fine with Tanner last night, right?”
Her eyes pointed toward the ceiling as she shook her head. “So you can put on an act, but every time I look at you, I’ll know what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking that you’re my baby sister, and I’d do anything for you.” Including risk offending her to wake her up.
If only that risk had paid off.
8
Saturday afternoon found Erin twenty minutes out into the snow-glistening countryside, on a mission to make a fool of herself.
“In a mile, turn right onto Fox Light Lane.”
As she navigated toward John’s house, Erin envied the GPS’s detachment. Oh, to feel equally calm and clear on where to go from there.
Old Sawmill Road really was something else. Her teeth rattled through a half-mile-stretch of potholes, dips, bumps, and one curve marked with a speed limit of twenty-five. No wonder John was an expert drifter—he probably practiced on the tight turn every chance he got.
At the turn-off, a line of trees extended to the right and expanded into a full-blown forest. According to the phone, his place was nearby, so his property must be somewhere in the woods.
Her stomach pinched and turned. Her apology had to be in person. The shop’s future was important enough. But would she even see John?
She’d heard Gannon Vaughn’s place had a gate and a security detail. John kept a lower profile—Gannon, she would’ve recognized on the spot—but he probably had something to keep people out. His dogs, if nothing else.
Pictures of the two pit bulls had peppered the results of her Internet search the night before. Ammo and Blade or something.
Fox Light Lane hadn’t been plowed. A set or two of tire marks, partially filled with snow, meant no one had driven this today. Presumably, that meant John was home, and it was almost time to eat humble pie, unless she got stuck in a snowdrift or mauled by the dogs first.
Either of which might be preferable to facing the man.
She followed the road deeper into the woods. The canopy of branches under the cloudy sky further dimmed the bluish light. Forest extended into the distance on either side. The snow blanket dipped and rose over fallen branches, rocks, and bushes.
“You have arrived at your destination.”
Erin frowned. The road extended as a grayish line between dark tree trunks. No houses in sight. She continued farther into the woods.
