Hawk and Dove (Rock Star Romance Novel) (29 page)

“Yes,” I chuckle, “Trust me, they’re much more approachable
than you’d think.”

“Easy for you to say!” she cries, “You’re one of them!”

“I guess you’re right...” I say, as my mom and sister
disappear inside the house.

I step back out onto the porch and wave toward the tour bus,
signaling Chuck to pull into the driveway. The enormous vehicle moans up the
incline and grumbles to a stop. The bus is practically as big as our house. I
head over just as Trent and the guys are stepping down out of the hotel on
wheels.

They look around our quiet little street, a little confused
by the lack of bright lights and loud noises. I wonder when the last time was
that they had a little small town hospitality.

“Come on,” I say, taking Trent’s hand, “Welcome to Chateau
Jackson, gentlemen. I’m sure you’ll find everything is to your liking.”

We trudge on up the front walk, me and my escort of rock
royalty. I’m glad we live in a relatively secluded part of town—no prying eyes
have popped up to spy on us yet. I wonder how long it takes the paparazzi to
catch up with Trent’s comings and goings?

Hopefully, I can spare my mom and Kate that much, at least.
I lace my fingers through Trent’s as we climb the steps of my front porch. If I
only could have known leaving this house for the festival what kind of amazing
souvenirs I’d be bringing home with me.

The door swings open, and my mom and Kate appear in the threshold.
I have to bite back my own laughter as I see the excited looks on their faces.
They look for the world like two kids on Christmas morning. Kate’s slipped on a
very becoming little sundress, and even Mom is trying to affect her hard-won
Lower East Side cool for the benefit of our musical guests.

“Everyone,” I say, addressing the band, “This is my sister
Kate, and this is my mom.”

“You can call be Abby,” my mom says quickly, offering a wide
smile to the attractive young men on her doorstep. “Why don’t you all come
inside?”

“You really don’t mind us staying here?” Kenny asks.

“Not at all,” Kate says, “This will be a story for the
grandkids, for sure.”

“Not my grandkids,” Mom says quickly, “I’m not a
grandmother, or anything.”

“Smooth, Mom,” I mumble, grinning at her.

“I just want that point to be clear,” she sniffs, opening
the door for us.

The band mates follow me into the house while Chuck hangs
out in the bus. I watch as the guys take in the homey details of our little
abode. We really do have the kind of house that could only possibly have been
lived in by three women. Every tiny detail has been attended to over the years,
and even I have to admit that our home is one of the coziest there is.

It’s incredibly strange to see four hard, rough and tumble
bad boys making their way through our foyer. They look about as out of place as
can be, though I guess that’s probably what they thought about me too, the
first time I came around.

“This is it!” I tell them gesturing to the kitchen and
living room, “Plenty of couches to crash on, all the organic goodness you could
eat, the works.”

“It’s really nice of you to have us, Ms. Jackson,” Rodney
says.

“Abby,” Mom corrects him, “And it’s no trouble. I don’t have
class all summer, so it’s nice to have a little company around here.”

“Do you guys want to see the back yard?” Kate offers, “We’ve
got a nice little fire pit and everything.”

“Cool,” Rodger says, giving Kate a not-too-subtle once over.
My sister leads the guys out the back door, but my mom steps forward and places
a hand on Trent’s arm holding him in place.

“I wanted to have a word with you, away from the others,”
she tells him.

For a moment, I’m afraid she’s going to dive into a “what
are your intentions” sort of speech, like she used to with the boys I dated in
high school.

“Is everything OK, mom?” I ask.

“Oh, of course,” she says, leading Trent and I into the
living room. It’s hard to believe that just a couple of days ago my father was
here, perched hideously on our couch as though he ruled the household.

The very memory makes me grind my teeth in anger.

“What is it, Mom?” I ask.

“Actually Ellie,” she says, “I was hoping to talk to Trent
for a moment on his own, if you don’t mind.”

I look back and forth between my mother and the man that
I’ve fallen so swiftly in love with. I’m a little surprised—I don’t want Trent
to feel cornered. But he just smiles kindly.

“It’s cool,” he says, “We’ll meet you out back.”

I leave the room, wondering at the absurdity of the
situation. But if I stop and marvel at every outlandish thing that happens to
me from now on, I’ll never have a moment of peace.

I head out to the backyard, leaving my mom and Trent to have
their little heart to heart.

Chapter Twenty Four

Ellie’s mother looks after her retreating daughter, waiting
to hear the swing of the back door as it settles back into its frame.

Her eyes swing toward me, and I notice once again that
they’re practically identical to Ellie’s. Only, there’s a wisdom and a certain
resigned toughness to Abby’s eyes that has yet to settle in Ellie’s. Hopefully,
it will never have to.

“I’m glad you’re here Trent,” Abby says, gesturing for me to
take a seat, “It’s nice to see you again under less...awkward circumstances.”

“I hope that I didn’t step out of line the other day,” I
tell her, “Really, I only came to make sure that Ellie was OK, and to try and
convince her to see the festival through. I never meant to stick myself in the
middle of any...family stuff.”

“I’m not upset with you,” she assures me, “Although you do
have rather outrageous timing. That’s the first time the girls’ father has been
here in about a decade.”

“It must have been rough, seeing him again,” I say.

“It was,” she replies, “I’d like to think that the whole
issue of our divorce is resolved, but those things never quite stop hurting. I
like to be strong for my girls, and I’m afraid that they saw a rather
vulnerable side of me that day.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being vulnerable,” I say.

“According to the above-it-all rock star?” she laughs.

“You’ve got me there,” I smile. “But honestly, I thought you
handled yourself very well. Given the situation, and all.”

“Thank you Trent,” she says, “But I didn’t keep you here to
tell me how wonderful I am as a mother. I just need to make a few things
perfectly clear.”

“By all means,” I say.

“This family has been through a lot,” she begins, “From
before the girls were born, things have not been...ideal. There’s been a lot of
heartbreak in Ellie’s life.”

“You can hear it in her music,” I say.

“It’s true,” her mom replies, “I’m not suggesting that she’s
some kind of wilting flower that needs to be handled delicately. She’s a
scrappy little thing, always has been. There’s nothing she can’t do when she
puts her mind to it.”

“I don’t doubt that at all,” I say.

“She gets what she wants,” Abby continues, “And it doesn’t
take a genius to see that what she wants right now is to be with you.”

“I hope you’re right,” I say honestly.

“Is that what you want as well, Trent?” she asks, “Do you
want to be with Ellie as much as she wants the same? I need you to be honest
with me.”

It’s a frank line of questioning, but I step up to the plate
anyway. “If anything, Abby, I want it more than she does.”

She scans my face for any trace of bullshit, and I can
practically feel the heat of her gaze as it sweeps over me. But she can’t find
any hint of a lie there, because I’m telling her the truth. There’s nothing I
want more than to have Ellie at my side.

“All that I ask then,” Abby says softly, “Is that you keep
her best interests at heart, always.”

“Of course,” I say.

“Even if that means one day letting her go,” she finishes.

That one’s tougher to swallow.

“I thought you wanted her to have what she wants?” I reply.

“I want her to be safe, and healthy, and happy,” Abby says,
“But that doesn’t always go hand in hand with getting what she wants. I need
you to be accountable for this, because once she’s got her mind set on
something, there’s nothing that will shake her loose. I need you to promise
that you’ll let her go, if being with you becomes too...much.”

“Too much?” I ask.

“Too dangerous,” she says, “Too traumatic, or risky.”

“That’s no small thing you’re asking,” I tell her.

“I know,” she says, “But I need you to promise all the same.
If you think she’ll be better off without you, you have to do the right thing.
You have to let her go.”

I stare at Abby, the weathered, proud matriarch. As much as
I’m loathe to think of life without Ellie, I have to admit that she’s right. If
I thought that being with me was doing harm to the woman I love, I’d have no
choice but to end it.

“I promise, Abby,” I say quietly, “If I think she’s better
off without me...I’ll do what I have to do.”

“Thank you, Trent,” she says, resting her hand on mine.

“You don’t think it will come to that, do you?” I ask,
feeling like a teenager again.

“What do I know?” she says, laughing off the gravity of the
situation, “I’m just an old lady, now. I don’t know anything about the lives
you crazy kids lead.”

I smile at her, happy for the break in heavy conversation.
“And you promise you’re not mad that I threatened to beat up your ex?”

“Oh please,” she says, waving my comment away, “If I had a
nickel for every time someone wanted to punch that man in the face, my mortgage
would be paid off and then some.”

“You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?” I ask her.

“Ellie’s Dad?” she says, “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t mean, like, stalker dangerous,” I say quickly, “I
just...I didn’t have the best relationship with my dad growing up, and it’s
never really...gone away. The harm he did. I guess I’m just asking whether you
think seeing him again is going to, you know...”

“Set Ellie off?” she says, “Don’t worry about that. He can’t
hurt us anymore, or you, for that matter. He’ll disappear back into the
woodwork and mind his business now, I’m sure.”

I nod, but I’m far from convinced. There was a relentless,
selfish need in that man that I don’t think is going to be extinguished so
easily. If he shows up again, and hurts Ellie in my presence one more time, I
don’t know what I’m going to do.

I picture myself taking a swing at him, really kicking the
shit out of his sorry ass...but as I try and picture him in my mind’s eye, his
face keeps becoming my own father’s. I know that some of my outrageous ire
toward Ellie’s dad has everything to do with my own unresolved issues.

Unlike her father, my own has been completely disinterested
in my career so far. I’ve never gotten an ounce of respect from that man, and I
know that no amount of success will ever change that.

But now, with Ellie in my life, I feel like there’s
something about me that he’d actually be proud of. My family would love
Ellie—everyone does. Will there come a point when bringing them a wonderful
girl as a peace offering will stitch up our family? Somehow, I doubt I could
stomach such a thing.

Abby rises and leads me toward the backyard. I can’t help
but run through the growing list of people who have been cast off this past
week. Ellie’s dad, that Mitch kid, and of course Kelly, are all far too close
to us for comfort. Kelly especially could try and do some real damage to our
band if she puts her mind to it.

I spurned her pretty dramatically—I wouldn’t put it past her
to try something crazy. The schemes she could be cooking up right now hang
heavily over my head.

As I follow Ellie’s mom out into the backyard, I’m all but
forced to let go of doomsday scenarios.

Their yard is like a fairy world in miniature. String lights
hang over the wide patch of green grass, illuminating the scene below. A
charming picnic table stands at the center of the space, all set out with
glassware and oilcloth. Tall pine trees form a protective ring around the yard,
secluding us from the rest of the world. Fireflies flit and fly all over,
blinking in and out as I look on.

I laugh as I catch sight of my band mates. Kate has put them
to work already. They sit at the picnic table with a dozen ears of corn between
them, shucking of the husks. They look like three overgrown boys, helping Mommy
prepare for dinner. It’s too much for me to handle.

Ellie has a gigantic pitcher of iced tea balanced on her
hip, and Kate is tending to the fire pit. This has got to be the most unlikely
assortment of people ever to collaborate on a backyard feast. I’ve seen a lot
of crazy things as a rock star, but this scene is right up there among the
greatest hits.

“You OK?” Ellie asks softly, hurrying over to me.

“Sure,” I say, “She just wanted to get to know me a little.”

“That’s all?” Ellie asks pointedly.

“That’s all,” I say, bending the truth like a goddamn
pretzel. “What’s going on out here?”

“Oh! We’re going to have a cookout,” Ellie smiles.

“Do you want one ear or two?” Kenny calls out to me, his
pant legs rolled up like he’s goddamn Tom Sawyer or something.

“Two for me,” I tell him, “And keep them coming. Can I do
anything to help?”

“Actually,” Ellie says, setting down her pitcher, “I was
wondering if you’d come on a little errand with me?”

“Sure,” I say, “Where to?”

“You’ll see,” she says, “I just want to set the record
straight about a couple of things. I’ll explain everything on the way. I’m sure
we’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Whatever you want,” I say, wincing unnoticeably as Abby’s
warning comes back into my mind.

“Be back in a bit!” Ellie calls to the group, taking me by
the hand. She leads me back through the house and over to her little banged-up
sedan.

As we settle in, I lean over the cockpit and lay my lips
firmly on hers. She kisses me back, a little surprised by my force but as game
as ever.

“What was that for?” she asks, starting the car.

“Nothing,” I say, “I’m just really glad to be here.”

“Me too,” she smiles.

I keep my mouth shut tight as we skirt around the tour bus
and out into the little town. I’ll probably never have to act on the deal I
made with her mother, after all. Why bother bringing it up at all? This moment
is too nice to spoil with “what if’s”, anyway.