Page 36

Don’t try to sing Queen

Sophie

Would you like to come for dinner?

It wasn’t quite as bold as asking him out, but it was an invitation, for the two of us, eating… It was date adjacent if not exactly a date. Baby steps.

I shook my head at how I was tap-dancing around the issue. We’d had sex. Many times. Dinner was hardly a baby step after that. But we’d only talked about casual, and I didn’t know how he would feel about dating, especially because of Ollie.

What can I bring?

Beast.

He’d be more relaxed if he wasn’t worried about his dog. Then I started to worry about what I’d make and if he’d think it was a date, or just a friends get-together. What did I really want?

I could cook, but I had a limited repertoire.

I decided to make lemon chicken, a salad, and my one impressive dish, risotto.

I’d buy some dessert. Just not something with too much chocolate and flowers, right?

Uggh. The best reason to talk over what we were doing together was so that I didn’t have to spend time worrying about what to wear and if I should put candles on the table.

Would that shift what we had from friends with benefits to dating?

Was it worth risking feelings for Remy to make sure I’d moved on from being tied to Ollie to being my own person ready to explore the world of dating again? Or was I just creating new bonds? Did I want that? When I knew the timeline was limited?

I was driving myself crazy, for sure.

I put on a dress that was flattering but not fussy.

Since I was working in the kitchen, I tied my hair back, but I put in earrings and used a bit of makeup.

Doing my best to not cross the line too far into dating, without being casual enough to look like dating wasn’t in the picture. Frankly, it was ridiculous.

I was preparing the chicken when Cash walked in.

I hadn’t seen him in days, not since shortly after Christmas.

I’d asked if I’d been missed, and he’d reluctantly admitted not really.

It hurt, but that was assuaged by the fact that I’d actually enjoyed my own holiday.

I didn’t think he understood how differently Dad treated us.

“Hey, sis. What smells so good?”

I dropped the knife. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned. “I live here.”

“I know, but you’ve been at the studio nonstop.”

He shrugged. “Needed a break, so I cut out early.”

Great timing.

He looked into the dining room, table set for two people. “Hmm. You didn’t expect me , so who’s coming over?”

“Remy,” I admitted.

“Is this a date?”

That was the million-dollar question. “I invited him for dinner.”

“If you’re planning to make a move on him, I’ll make myself scarce.”

I almost said yes, but another look at him and I paused. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin was sallow. He’d been working too hard, and if he was taking a break, he either really needed it or things weren’t going well. I couldn’t boot him out of his own home when he was this tired.

“No, I’ll add another place.” My brother let me stay here without paying much rent, though he did get a built-in caretaker, and had renovated the carriage house for me. I was grateful. Plus, I loved him. Maybe it was a sign that I should keep things casual with Remy.

“I’ll order in. I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Grab a drink and sit down. You look exhausted.”

I sent a quick text to Remy, letting him know Cash was joining us. Cash settled back on a stool at the island with a beer and a sigh.

“Hey, what happened to Trinity? I came home one day and she was gone.”

He shrugged. “I told her I would be working long hours. Then I had to tell her I couldn’t message while I was in the studio. I couldn’t meet her for lunch or dinner or drinks, and she couldn’t watch me work. She got bored and left.” Not hard to understand why the guy remained single.

“She mustn’t have been too upset since she didn’t leave a mess or do any damage.” Sometimes these things ended explosively. The woman who’d thrown plates, for example.

Cash rotated the bottle of beer on the counter. “I bought her a first-class ticket back and said I’d see her when I was in LA again.”

“Uh huh. And when are you back in LA?”

“No idea. I’ll be tied up here and in Nashville for the next few months.”

“Maybe you need to take a break. Not from Trinity, but from work. A longer one than tonight.”

He waved a hand. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

There was a knock at the door, and a growl. “That’s Remy.”

I opened the door and my heart did a little flip when I saw him. He looked like he’d taken the same line between friend and date as me. He was wearing dress pants and a soft sweater that hugged that broad chest I remembered fondly. He had flowers but not roses. Daisies.

“Hi.” A warm smile curved his mouth and deepened the creases around his eyes.

I’d have kissed him, except Cash was waiting. “Come on in.”

“Thanks. Quiet, Beast.” The dog sat down. Remy held out the flowers. “These are for you.”

I took the daisies and stepped back, following him into the kitchen.

Cash tipped his beer at Remy. “Nice to see you again.”

They shook hands and I pulled out a vase for the flowers. “Since you’re crashing dinner, Cash, you can put out another setting and get Remy a drink.”

Remy looked between us. “If you would like a family evening…”

“Not at all,” Cash said, turning on his public persona. Big smile, charm set to eleven. “Families need a bit of outside influence to keep them from fighting.”

Remy raised an eyebrow. “You two fight a lot?”

Cash moved into the dining room with another plate. “We keep enough people around to prevent that. Plus, we know all our stories so having a new audience will make them better.”

Cash and I hadn’t been close enough to get on each other’s nerves for years, but he was making Remy feel welcome. He asked how the team was doing. I put the finishing touches on the risotto and brought it and the chicken out to the table. The salad was already there.

“How can I help?” Remy asked.

“I’ve got it,” I assured him.

Cash pulled out a bottle of wine from his stash and poured glasses for us. “Since we aren’t driving.”

We’d just settled at the table when Goober appeared from wherever she’d been hiding. She eyed us all, then crossed to where Beast was sitting in a corner. For once, the dog wasn’t snarling. Beast stayed still, and Goober sat in front of him.

Cash looked at us. “What the hell is going on?” Goober was usually a ghost around the place.

I smirked. “I think she has a crush on Beast.”

Cash looked from the cat and dog to us. “Interesting.”

“Yes.” I smiled. “Your cat has made a friend.” I emphasized the your ever so slightly, since I didn’t trust the look in his eye.

“How long will they stare at each other? Is it safe to ignore them and eat? Because I’m hungry and this looks delicious.”

Remy slid the salad toward Cash. “They seem to be more comfortable with each other every time they get together. We should go ahead and enjoy the food after Sophie went to all this effort.”

The meal started well. Cash was good with people, and while Remy was quiet, he wasn’t shy.

Cash told stories from when he first got Ollie to play hockey, and laughed at Ollie’s attempts at karaoke.

I wasn’t sure if he wanted Remy to feel more equal with Ollie as his coach, or as my ex, but the stories weren’t random.

“I can’t sing either,” Remy admitted.

“Lots of people can’t. But don’t try to sing Queen, then.”

“I feel pretty safe making that promise.”

“But I admire you guys playing at the NHL level. I love hockey and I tried to play, but these days keeping upright on skates is enough without trying to stop a puck blazing at you at high speed.”

Remy set down his fork. “I can’t imagine singing while playing a musical instrument either.”

Cash grinned. “Fair. At least I don’t try to sing and play a tuba.”

Remy grinned. “I played tuba in school for a year.”

“No shit.”

“None. Maybe if it had been a guitar instead, I might have kept it up.”

Cash leaned back in his chair, happy to talk music. “You don’t play? You should give it a try. We’ve got enough of them lying around here.”

Remy shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m sure they’re all valuable, like the one Sophie’s making, and I wouldn’t trust these hands with something like that.”

Cash sat forward, eyes fixed on me. “You’re making guitars? Since when?”

Remy

I’d assumed that her brother would know about something big, like taking over Diane’s shop and Sophie making a guitar to test it out. Nope.

She tensed up. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I didn’t think you’d made one since your course.”

“I haven’t. Is everyone done?” She stood, setting her utensils on her plate.

Cash must have sensed there was more to it. “Are you thinking of getting into custom makes? It’s a tough market.”

At that, her gaze shot up. “I know exactly how tough the market is.”

Cash put on a placating smile. “It’s one thing to do some repairs as a hobby, but…”

“A hobby?” I couldn’t keep the words back.

Now Cash looked at me. “What do you know about it?”

I was pissed that her family didn’t support her, and he should know that she did good work and others appreciated her.

“I know how much time she spends working in her shop. I don’t know guitars but my teammate does, and he fucking loves the inlay she did for him.

He’s told other people about it. It’s not a damned hobby, it’s her job. ” Why would he belittle her like that?

Sophie straightened, shooting lasers at both of us. “You two can clean up. I’m done.” She walked away, body rigid. Damn it, I’d messed up. This was why it was better that I didn’t talk.

Cash shook his head slowly, brow furrowed. “I didn’t know it was a job for her.”

I spread out my hands. “What did you think?”

He shrugged. “She’s always liked tinkering with guitars. I thought she was fixing them for fun. If she’d been serious, she’d have talked to us—well, at least me.”

How had he missed this? “She has a whole shop in the carriage house.”

“Yeah, I had the placed done up so she could work there, but I thought she was just keeping busy. I’m away a lot. And she never said anything. Why wouldn’t she say something?”

“She gets work from a couple of guitar shops in town, I know, plus has her own clients. She works all day, Monday to Friday. She’s making the guitar because Diane?—”

I stopped. I was doing it again. Talking too much.

“Diane? From String Theory?”

“Yeah.”

“She does work for Diane?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit. I didn’t know that. I knew she apprenticed with Diane, but I didn’t know she was working for her. She has to be good, then.”

I’d already said too much, but I really wanted this guy to know how good his sister was. Not sure why he was so clueless, but Sophie deserved some recognition, especially from her family. “Diane is retiring.”

“Wow. String Theory is an institution around here. What’s going to happen to it? Is she…oh. Oh fuck.” The dots were lining up for the guy, finally. “Damn it, Sophie must be really good.”

I crossed my arms. “Here’s what I don’t get.

I get along with my parents. They’re older, never been into sports, so I understand why they don’t know much about my hockey career.

” Maybe if I’d been more successful, they might have, but this wasn’t about me.

“But your family—music is your thing. Maybe you didn’t want to work with family, in case things got messy, but you don’t even know what she’s doing. Is it because she’s a woman?”

Cash sat forward, charm gone, eyes narrowed at me. “You think I really believe women can’t do anything?”

“I dunno. But you don’t value Sophie much, and other people do.”

He ran his hands over his face. “Fuck. You’re right. We’ve just…” He sighed. “My dad is all about success. He hit it big, and he pushed us into music from the beginning. Sophie wasn’t a performer. She can sing and play, but she doesn’t have that spark, you know?”

I didn’t, but Cash kept going.

“I was pissed that Dad dropped her from everything after that. I didn’t like a lot of the shit he pulled, so when I was old enough I went my own road. Put together a band, started doing the rounds, and then we hit it big too.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of you.”

“The band split up and I got into producing, and I’ve been busy with my own shit. I just assumed Sophie wasn’t doing much.”

“Why?” I really, really didn’t get how he could know his sister and think she was just…what? Fixing an occasional guitar and watching YouTube videos?

“Because I’m an idiot? And…wait, I remember. When she decided to do the luthier program. Conrad, the guy who works with our equipment, said she wasn’t good enough to handle the expensive guitars.”

I drew in a sharp breath. What an ass. “Diane thought she was.”

Cash closed his eyes. “I’m so stupid. But why would Conrad say that if it wasn’t true?”

“He’s a misogynist? Was afraid he might lose you as clients?” Maybe she hadn’t been good at what she did back then, but if she hadn’t gotten any training yet, it was too early to write her off.

“Fuck. Probably. He’s a bitter old bugger, but good with instruments.”

“Like I said, I don’t know anything about guitars. But Diane is impressed with Sophie. And the guitar she’s making looks good to me.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it in her shop?”

“It’s at Diane’s.”

He sat up. “I want to see what she’s doing.”

“You should talk to her, then.”

He sighed. “Think she’s still pissed now?”

Pretty sad if he thought I knew more than he did. “Go talk to her if you want. I’ll clean up.”

He met my eyes. “I’m glad you said something.”

He might be, but Sophie wasn’t. I hoped Cash followed through so something good came out of this. I didn’t like the idea that whatever was building between Sophie and me was ended by my mistake.

Cash didn’t say much as we cleaned up the kitchen, putting leftovers in the fridge and wiping down the counters.

I said good night, and Beast and I returned to the carriage house.

I’d hoped tonight was going to be a lot different.

That maybe it was a date, and Sophie and I might end up in bed again.

Just as well that Cash was there, because I might have embarrassed myself in a different way if it’d been just the two of us.