Page 20 of Roaring Fork Rockstar (Roaring Fork Ranch #3)

KELTIE

“ E arth to Keltie,” Miguel said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “You okay, boss? That’s the second time you’ve poured vodka instead of tequila.”

I blinked, and the bustling reality of the Goat came into focus. Two days after Christmas, and the bar was packed with tourists who’d flooded Crested Butte for the post-holiday ski season. Shortly after the lifts closed, every table was full and the air was thick with conversation and laughter.

“Sorry,” I muttered, dumping the vodka and starting fresh.

Miguel’s knowing grin told me he’d guessed exactly why I was distracted. “If you say so.”

I glanced toward the small stage, where Holt was setting up for an early set.

He looked up as if he’d sensed my attention, and the slow smile that spread across his face sent a jolt straight through me.

He remembered too—how we’d explored each other’s bodies with increasing urgency, how his hands and mouth had brought me so close to the edge that even now, hours later, I was practically trembling with need.

I forced myself to focus on the drink orders piling up from well-dressed out-of-towners with expensive ski gear, willing to leave big tips.

Under normal circumstances, I’d be thrilled with the business, but my attention kept drifting between Holt and Luna, who sat near the bar, coloring intently in a new book.

I hated that I’d had to bring her with me, but Mrs. Lopez wasn’t available tonight, and I hadn’t lined up any other sitters.

As afternoon turned to evening, I made my way over to check on Luna during a brief lull. Her coloring had slowed, and she looked up at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

“You tired, Luna-bug?” I asked, brushing a curl from her forehead. The warmth of her skin made me pause.

“A little,” she admitted, leaning into my touch. “My tummy feels funny.”

I pressed my palm more firmly against her forehead, confirming what I already suspected. She had a fever—not high, but definitely there. I glanced toward the bar, where three deep lines of customers waited for drinks.

“How about some apple juice?” I suggested, keeping my voice light.

Luna rested her head on her arms. “Yes, please.”

I hurried behind the bar, grabbed a plastic cup with a lid, and filled it with juice. Miguel glanced at me, then toward Luna.

“She okay?” he asked, mixing two cocktails simultaneously.

“Low-grade fever,” I said quietly. “Nothing serious, but I should probably get her home.”

Before he could respond, a group of rowdy guys I recognized from ski patrol approached the bar, calling for a round of shots. I handed them off to my other bartender and rushed over to Luna with the juice and medication from Dr. Patel after I’d measured the dose carefully into a small cup.

“Here you go, sweetie. This will help you feel better.”

Luna took the medicine without complaint, a sure sign she wasn’t feeling well.

I glanced at the crowded bar, then at my daughter. The responsible choice was clear—I needed to take Luna home, but leaving now would mean Miguel would be shorthanded.

“Everything okay?” Holt asked, appearing next to me. His eyes moved from Luna’s flushed face to the medicine cup in my hand.

“Another fever,” I explained, keeping my voice steady despite the worry gnawing at me. With the Denver appointment looming, every spike in temperature felt more ominous.

Holt crouched beside Luna’s chair. “Not feeling too great, huh, Unicorn Girl?”

Luna shook her head, then looked up at him with her enormous brown eyes. “Can you tell me more of Sparkles’ story? The one about the magic flower?”

“I’d love to,” he said gently. “But I think we should get you home and into your pajamas first. Stories are always better in pajamas. Don’t you think?”

Luna nodded solemnly, as if this was a universal truth she’d always known.

Holt straightened and turned to me. “I’ll take her to your place.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” I protested. “You’re supposed to be playing tonight.”

“I’ve already done my first set,” he pointed out. “That counts for my trust requirements. And wouldn’t Luna feel better climbing into bed?”

I hesitated, glancing around at the packed room. Losing Holt’s music would disappoint the customers, but my daughter had to come first, even if I wasn’t the one to put her there.

“Come on, Keltie. Let me do this.”

“You’d need her car seat.”

“I know where it is,” Luna piped up, her voice small but determined. “And Mr. Holt makes the best soup, Mommy, and I’m hungry.”

More guilt settled on my shoulders. She usually didn’t like to eat when she wasn’t feeling well, but I should’ve asked.

Holt’s eyes met mine over Luna’s head. “I’ll take good care of her. You know I will.”

And the thing was, I did know. Despite how short a time we’d known each other, I trusted him with my daughter in a way I’d never trusted anyone besides family.

“Okay,” I relented, brushing Luna’s cheek. “But call me if her fever goes up even a little or if anything seems off.”

“We promise,” he said, offering his pinky to Luna, who solemnly linked hers with his.

I helped Luna gather her things while Holt let Miguel know he was cutting his set short.

At the door, Luna hugged me tightly. “Bye, Mommy. Don’t worry. Mr. Holt will tell me stories until I fall asleep.”

“Will he, now?” I smiled at Holt. The man seemed heaven-sent.

Luna tugged at his hand. “You’ll make me soup too, right?”

“Sure will. Campbell’s finest,” he teased. “Plus, I make a mean grilled cheese to go with it.”

“The house key is under the ceramic frog,” I told him. “Her pajamas are in the second drawer of her dresser. And call me if?—”

“Anything changes,” he finished. “We’ll be fine, right, Luna?”

“Yes, Mommy.” My daughter was already perking up at the prospect of soup and stories.

As they walked out into the cold night, Luna’s small hand tucked trustingly in Holt’s much larger one, a warmth spread over me that was replaced by loud warning bells that things between us were moving too quickly.

I threw myself into work, trying to stay focused despite my mind constantly drifting to my daughter and the man who was taking care of her. Miguel shot me reassuring glances, stepping up his pace to compensate for my distraction.

“Keltie?”

I turned to find Sam and Beau weaving through the crowd toward me, a welcome distraction from my spiraling thoughts. Beau stood behind her as she slid onto the one empty barstool, unwinding a scarf from around her neck.

“It’s packed in here!”

“Ski season can be crazy.”

“Want help?” she asked, surprising me.

“Um…”

“I used to run a wine bar, but I’m also pretty good at pouring beer.”

I glance over at the line waiting for drinks and the servers at their station, doing the same thing.

“I’d love that,” I finally replied. “Aprons are on the hook in the hallway.”

“Perfect. By the way, where’s Holt tonight? I thought he was playing.”

“Luna got a fever,” I explained, the worry creeping into my voice despite my efforts. “He took her home so I could finish my shift.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose, but her smile widened. “That’s, err, nice.”

“I feel bad taking advantage of him,” I said quickly, feeling my cheeks warm.

“Don’t. He wouldn’t do it if he didn’t want to. Plus, no one has missed the way he looks at you. The dude’s got it bad .”

The hours passed quickly, given how busy we were. I checked my cell periodically, and each time, Holt had sent a new photo of Luna. The last one was of her snuggled with her bunny and unicorn, sound asleep.

“He’s a pretty good babysitter,” Sam said, looking over my shoulder. “So, how’s she doing?”

I busied myself wiping down the bar, knowing Sam didn’t mean tonight. “We have a doctor’s appointment in Denver soon,” I found myself saying. “For tests.”

Sam’s expression immediately sobered. “When is it?”

“December 30.”

“I can come with you,” she said without hesitation. “For support. I can drive so you can focus on Luna.”

The offer caught me off guard. “I thought you were leaving for New York.”

Sam glanced at Beau, who’d spent the evening engaged in conversation with people at the bar.

“My husband suggested we stay until after the new year, and I happily agreed. I miss Cord and Juni so much now that they’ve moved to Colorado full time.”

“While I appreciate the offer, I don’t want to take you away from your family.”

Sam nudged me. “You’re family too. So is Luna.”

Family. The word resonated more deeply than I’d expected. “Thank you.” My throat tightened. “That would actually help a lot.”

By the time she and Beau left and Miguel flipped the sign to “closed,” my feet ached and my mind was foggy with exhaustion.

“Go home,” he urged, collecting empty glasses from the tables. “I’ll finish up.”

“You sure?” I asked, already untying my apron.

“Positive. There isn’t much left to do besides set the alarm and lock the doors.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Miguel responded.

I grabbed my coat and keys and went out to the parking area behind the bar, stunned to see someone had cleaned the snow off my truck. Knowing Holt wouldn’t have left Luna alone at the house, I decided it must’ve been Miguel. I made a mental note to give the guy a raise.

The drive home took less than five minutes, but it felt endless. When I finally pushed open my front door, the house was quiet and warm. I kicked off my boots in the entryway and padded up the stairs to Luna’s room.

The door was cracked open, a soft nightlight casting a gentle glow on Luna, who was sleeping peacefully. Holt was sitting in the rocking chair, reading something on a tablet, and smiled while I glanced over at him.

“Hey,” he whispered. “How was the rest of your shift?”

“Busy,” I replied, following him into the hallway and closing the door behind us. “How did she do?”

“Good. Her fever broke about an hour after we got here. We had soup, read about twenty stories, and she fell asleep around nine.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “There’s a plate for you in the microwave. Grilled cheese and tomato soup. Not gourmet, but it’s sustenance.”

I blinked, oddly touched by the simple gesture. “You made me dinner?”

“And cleaned up afterwards,” he added with a half smile. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m actually pretty handy for a would-be rock star.”

The normality of it all—Holt in my living room, dinner waiting for me, Luna sleeping soundly down the hall—it was something I could get used to if I ever allowed myself to be so stupid. It felt like we’d skipped dozens of steps, fast-forwarding to a domesticity I’d never experienced with anyone.

“Thank you,” I said, the words inadequate for the gratitude welling up inside me. “For everything. Luna’s never this comfortable with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers anymore,” he pointed out gently. “Are we?”

“No,” I admitted. “We’re not.”

I went to the kitchen and found the plate he’d mentioned, then warmed it in the microwave. When I joined him in the living room with my late dinner, Holt stood by the window, gazing out at the snow-covered street.

“You should eat that while it’s hot,” he said. “And I should probably head out.”

“You don’t have to go,” I said before I could stop myself. “Unless you want to.”

He studied me, then slowly moved closer, as if giving me the opportunity to change my mind. By the time he was beside me, I’d set my plate on the coffee table.

“I don’t want to go, but I don’t trust myself to stay without touching you again.”

Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading outward until even my fingertips tingled with awareness. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

That was all the invitation he needed. He sunk down next to me on the sofa and found my mouth with a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened with the pent-up need we shared. My hands slid under his shirt to find warm skin stretched over firm muscles.

I shifted, and he rested his body above mine. His hands were everywhere—in my hair, skimming down my sides, slipping beneath the hem of my shirt to trace the outline of my bra. When his thumb brushed across my nipple through the fabric, I gasped against his mouth.

“Do you know how much I want you?” he murmured against my throat.

I arched against him in response, seeking more contact, more friction. I opened my legs, and his hardness ground against me in a rhythm that made stars explode behind my eyelids. Forgetting myself, I cried out in pleasure.

“Luna,” I gasped, knowing how sound carried up the stairwell.

“She’s sound asleep,” Holt replied, his breath hot against my ear. “But we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” I began, trying to organize my jumbled thoughts. “God knows I do.”

“But, you have a little girl to consider. I get that, darlin’.” I melted at the understanding in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Keltie. Whatever happens with Luna, whatever comes next—I want to be here for it. For both of you.”

“You say that now,” I whispered, voicing the insecurity that always crept in. “But once your year in Crested Butte is up, you’ll get back to your real life.”

Holt shook his head, cupping my face in his hands. “ This is my real life. Time on the road isn’t.”

I wanted to believe him. More than anything, I wanted to lean into what he was offering—support, companionship, maybe even love, eventually. But the fear of getting hurt again or Luna losing his presence in her life stopped me.

“I need time,” I admitted.

“We can go as slow as you want,” Holt said, brushing his thumb across my cheekbone. “I should go so you can sleep before Luna wakes up.” He shifted off the sofa—off me—and I immediately missed his warmth.

I walked him to the door, our hands linked loosely. In the entryway, he turned to me one last time.

“Call me tomorrow? Let me know how Luna’s feeling?”

“I will. And, Holt?” I hesitated, then continued, “Thank you for understanding.”

His smile was warm enough to chase away the winter chill. “That’s what friends do, right? Although,” he added with a wink, “I’m hoping we’re more than ‘friends’ by now.”

After he left, I stood in the quiet house for a long moment, touching my fingers to lips still tender from his kisses. Going back to my abandoned dinner, I realized there was no denying the truth anymore: I was falling for him, faster and harder than I’d ever fallen for anyone.