Bluestone Song (14 page)

Maddox hadn’t grilled since the last time
he’d been in Bluestone. He came home from nearby Wilson with a new
Webber, a huge bag of charcoal, lighter fluid, a bad-ass lighter,
corn on the cob, a couple of cast-iron pans, an ice chest,
twelve-packs of pop, a new set of dishes and silverware, glasses,
towels, marshmallows and garlic bread. He hadn’t realized how light
he’d been traveling until he’d opened his mouth to invite Beth and
her family out here, then realized he was in no way prepared for
company. He’d even had to buy a new patio table so they could eat
on the deck.

He hadn’t assembled anything in, well, since
he had moved into his first apartment and bought that TV cabinet
that he never did find all the pieces for. The patio table seemed
to be following the same rule. Where the hell was the screw for the
fourth leg?

The knock at the door had him cursing and
leaning the three-legged table against the rail to answer. A glance
at his watch told him it was after six, and while he’d started the
fire, he hadn’t shucked the corn or sliced the limes or breaded the
fish. Still, he opened the door with a welcoming smile, and Lily
Prater, the launch captain, stepped inside with a pie.

“Am I the first one?” she asked, looking
around.

He’d gotten to know her a little bit, hanging
around Quinn’s, but she’d always been kind of intimidated by him.
She had grown up here in Bluestone, but was about five years
younger than him and didn’t remember his summers here.

“No problem. I may put you to work. I’m still
trying to get this patio table together. Can I get you to shuck the
corn?”

She handed over the pie. “Honey, I got this
at the bakery. Why don’t you shuck the corn and I put the patio
table together?”

No wonder Quinn liked her, though the fool
would never admit it.

By the time Beth and her crew arrived, Lily
had the table put together and set, and Maddox had the wrapped ears
of corn on the grill and was breading the fish.

“Not quite the same as we used to do over the
pit,” Maddox told Beth when she set a giant bowl of salad on the
counter. “But I think it’ll work.”

“What can I do?” she asked.

“You want to finish breading these? I’ll
start the other ones out on the grill.”

She stepped up beside him and he got a whiff
of her smoky scent. Her hair was tied back in its usual sleek
ponytail, but she wore a tank top and shorts, making him wish he
hadn’t invited all these damned people, that it was just going to
be the two of them, remembering the fun they’d had as kids. He
didn’t think she did fun very often. Even now, she was looking past
his shoulder to check on Linda and Jonas, who’d gone out on the
deck with Lily.

He washed his hands, then lifted the
cast-iron skillet with the breaded fish and edged around her as she
turned to reach for the hand towel. She bumped into him and he
quickly set the skillet on the island to steady her. Okay, maybe
she didn’t need steadying. Maybe he just needed to get his hands on
her skin. Automatically he took one step forward, his foot on the
outside of hers so she couldn’t slip away, standing just close
enough that the heat from his body pinned her against the
counter.

“Remember when we used to try to figure out
how to get away from the family when we had things like this? We’d
even volunteer to wash dishes if it meant we were alone
together.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze, and her whole
body was tense with a need to escape him, a sensation that put a
knot in his stomach. Why couldn’t she relax around him? He flipped
her ponytail back over her shoulder and she looked up at him as his
touch trailed across the side of her throat. Her eyes were darker
than usual, her lips parted—

And Quinn walked in the front door. “I
knocked three times. You aren’t having that good of a time in here,
are you?” He set a case of beer on the other side of the island, as
Maddox swung around to pick up the plate of fish and Beth pivoted
toward the counter. “Ah.”

“Ah, nothing. Put the beer in the cooler on
the patio.”

Quinn pulled one out of the carton first.
“Want one?”

“Nope. I got a pop around here somewhere.”
Though, Jesus, maybe a beer would calm the shaking in his hands.
No, the only thing that would do that was another kiss from Beth,
which would only leave him wanting her in his bed.

Why the hell had he invited all these
people?

Maddox stepped out on the deck behind Quinn.
Lily leaned on the rail overlooking the lake and Adam stood close.
Something he said made her laugh, and Quinn tensed as he jammed
beer bottles into the ice. Linda sulked in one of the padded
chairs, holding Jonas, which Maddox had rarely seen her do. Okay,
wow, great party.

He headed down the steps to the grill on the
lawn and Quinn joined him. Maddox turned the foil-wrapped cobs, and
set the cast iron pan on the flames.

“So what’s going on there?” Maddox asked,
with a nod toward the rail.

Quinn didn’t bother looking in that
direction. “I think they went to school together or something.”

Right. That was what had Quinn so uptight.
“Did they date?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Want me to ask Beth?”

“No. Jesus, you’re like an old lady, Maddox.”
But Quinn’s attention remained on the interaction above them, even
as he inspected the filets. “You cook much?”

“Never. We used to do this over the campfire,
though.”

“Turn it, already. Or did you even bring a
spatula?”

He hadn’t, and tried to use the tongs, which
just made the fish flake off. Swearing, Quinn, shoved him aside and
with an expert toss of his wrist, had the filets flopping to the
other side, just like they were still alive. The top sides of the
fish were golden brown, perfect.

Beth came down with the second pan. Maddox
needed every ounce of self-control not to watch those gorgeous
legs. Did she know how crazy she was making him? Probably not—she
was too skittish to be doing this on purpose.

“He may be able to sing, but he sure as hell
can’t cook,” Quinn muttered when she got closer.

“Did Lily and Adam go to school together?”
Maddox countered, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

“He was a couple years behind her, I think.”
She passed the skillet to Quinn, who’d clearly taken over.

“So they didn’t date?” Maddox pressed when
Quinn scowled.

“No. And he’s not going to be around long
enough this time.”

“But he’s staying in one of her cabins, isn’t
he?”

Quinn’s jaw got tighter, and Beth sent Maddox
a warning look.

“Why don’t you go get a plate that we can put
this corn on?” she said, nudging him toward the steps.

“Why don’t you both get the hell out of my
way?” Quinn muttered. “I got this.”

“Touchy,” Maddox said with a grin, and
escorted Beth back up the steps and into the kitchen. “So has he
even made a move?” he asked when they were alone in the
kitchen.

She shook her head. “And he won’t. Lily was
involved with his best friend, the one he bought the bar with. When
Gerry was killed, Quinn came back here, but his heart wasn’t in it.
He’s been trying to sell the place and move away. It, and Lily, are
reminders of Gerry.”

Maddox sobered. “I saw the tattoo he has on
his arm but I had no idea. But he loves her.”

Beth shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe it’s too hard to
love her.”

Was she talking about Quinn and Lily, or
about her and him?

Dinner wasn’t exactly what Beth had hoped.
Even though they were at Maddox Bradley’s lake house, Linda sulked.
Adam flirted shamelessly with Lily, completely oblivious of Quinn’s
growing sullenness. Only Jonas was well-behaved, and Beth and
Maddox worked to keep conversation flowing.

The food was good, and the view was
beautiful, but it wasn’t like the old days. She’d been foolish to
think she could go back to those simpler times. Still, Maddox tried
so hard, she had to admire him. He sent Lily, Adam and Linda down
to the grill with marshmallows and skewers, while Quinn said an
early good-night and Beth joined Maddox in the kitchen to do
dishes. She was too aware of his earlier words, how they’d
maneuvered to get alone when they were young. She hoped he didn’t
think that was what she was doing now.

“Why don’t you go roast marshmallows?” he
suggested as he scraped scraps into the trash.

She made a face and plunged her hands in the
soapy hot water. “No, thanks. Let Adam deal with Linda’s attitude
for a bit.”

“Maybe it’s not too late to give her up for
adoption.”

She froze mid-swipe. “She told you about
that.”

He placed the stack of dishes behind her and
didn’t flinch from her question. “She mentioned it.”

“Which means she’s thinking about it.”

“She may be.” His voice was soft, somehow
soothing.

Beth braced her hands against the counter and
lowered her head. “I wish I knew where I’d gone wrong with her. How
can she think about doing that after holding him in her arms?”

“Because raising him is harder than she
thought it would be. Maybe she sees how hard it is for you, how
much stress it’s causing you.”

Beth blew out a breath. “She doesn’t think of
anyone but herself. If she’d been thinking of me, she wouldn’t have
gotten pregnant in the first place.”

“I told her it would break your heart to part
with that little boy.”

“It would. It’s not easy, but no one promised
that, did they?” She pulled herself together and straightened. “If
she wants to give him up, I’ll just have to step aside and let
her.” Maybe it would be best for Jonas, to not have a teenaged
mother, to not live hand-to-mouth. Maybe it would be better for
Linda. Beth was tired of making all the decisions, and this one was
out of her hands anyway.

“This wasn’t such a good plan, was it?” he
asked, gesturing toward the patio doors, a chagrined smile canting
his lips.

“Maybe not.”

“It was better when it was just us. Why don’t
you come down to Quinn’s and listen to some music, and I’ll walk
you home afterwards?”

She shook her head and wiped her hands on the
towel after loading the last plate into the dishwasher. The
temptation was great—spend some time on her own, being a grown-up,
even for a few hours. But being with Maddox would make her want
things she had no business wanting, things that would be snatched
away when he left town again, in just a few short weeks. Better to
keep going the way she’d been.

“I’d better get them home. It will be nice to
get in bed before midnight for a change.” Before dark, even. Then,
because she could only deny herself so much, she grabbed his arm,
kissed his cheek, and fled to the deck to gather her family.

Adam stayed in Bluestone longer than she
expected him to, and spent a lot of time at the docks with Lily.
His continued presence made Beth’s story about needing to give two
weeks’ notice stretch thin, but she couldn’t tell him the truth,
that she needed more cash.

Beth had sent the two thousand dollars to her
father, along with another four hundred that she had saved. She was
more than half-way to her goal, but missing so much on the way. No
Friday night movies or Saturday concerts, no listening to Maddox
play. She hadn’t even realized how active she was in Bluestone
until she was watching from afar.

She worried about Linda. She watched her
sister with Jonas, looking for any clue that Linda may be thinking
of giving him up. Every time Linda was late from school or from
Quinn’s, every time Jonas cried too long, every time Linda sighed
and heaved herself off the couch to take care of him, Beth held her
breath. Every time Linda lost her temper, Beth waited to hear, “I’m
just going to give him up.” Her stomach knotted with the fear,
especially knowing there was nothing she could do about it. Her
instinct was to make everything as easy as she could for her
sister, but she knew that wasn’t the right choice, even if she had
time. So she worried.

And she missed Maddox. He took her at her
word when she said she didn’t need him to come to the casino
anymore, so she hadn’t seen him since the cook-out. She hadn’t
realized how she looked forward to seeing him every night, sitting
at the bar, drinking his pop. She’d felt safe when he was there. No
one bothered her now, thank goodness, but she still missed knowing
someone—not just someone, but Maddox—was looking out for her. It
had been so long since someone had cared. More than once she slowed
near the turn of his house and considered turning in, but that was
ridiculous. It was late, and that would just be stupid. But she
missed his touch, the way he looked at her, and that kiss…

On her night off, she was restless.
Ridiculous. Jonas gurgled and kicked in his bouncy chair on the
couch beside her. She was in socks instead of heels, she had the TV
to herself since Adam was off with Lily and Linda was working at
Quinn’s.

Quinn’s. She missed the place. Missed the
noise and the people. Missed hearing Maddox play. The place was too
loud to take a baby, she argued with herself, even as she lifted
Jonas out of his bouncy seat. She’d only stay for a little bit. She
wasn’t working, after all.

To assure herself that she wasn’t going for
Maddox, she didn’t put on make-up, dragged on a T-shirt and laced
up her athletic shoes. See, not out to impress anyone. She changed
Jonas into a clean diaper and outfit, took a bottle from the
fridge, tucked it into her purse, hitched the baby on her hip and
walked out the door.

Quinn’s was busy enough on Tuesday night that
she had to park on the street. She could hear the music as she got
Jonas out of his car seat. She stood beside her car and looked up
at the bar. She should leave. Instead, her feet carried her forward
across the gravel, up the stairs and into the bar.