Her Younger Man (A Country Music Romance): a Renny and Rachel Romance (3 page)

BOOK: Her Younger Man (A Country Music Romance): a Renny and Rachel Romance
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CHAPTER  FOUR

 

The concert ended and most of the crowd departed. I sat, wondering what would happen next. They had done three encores and it was way past 10 but a small crowd still gathered around the front of the stage waiting for the brothers to emerge. I was waiting to. How in the world could I look Renny in the face after that amazing performance? I understood why they were so popular, I just wondered what had taken them so long to achieve super-stardom. Talent in spades. Good looks to match. They all had the sweet Tennessee drawl Renny treated me too during that disastrous interview. Who wouldn’t love them?

A roadie finally came out and informed the crowd by the stage that the brothers had already left the venue and there was no use waiting.
Great
, I thought,
I guess I get my own way home.

Just as I was about to pull out my phone and look up cab companies I was poked in the back. I whirled around expecting to see Jed but instead it was a badly disguised Renny, beneath a grey hoodie and glasses.

“Did you like it?”

“I did. That song … when ..?”

“C’mon, let’s get out of here before they recognize me.”

Too late. Some of the girls filtering out had turned and were pointing at him. One of them started toward us only to be pulled back by another, who said loudly enough for us to hear, “Hey, he’s with his Mom, let’s leave them alone.”

His Mom? I looked old enough to be his Mom? Well, that brought my giddish schoolgirl fantasies to an abrupt halt. That song was not for me. Renny Taylor was out of my league, and age group. I wanted to slap myself. What an idiot I’d been thinking he wrote a song for me, a woman he met for 20 minutes a week ago. I must be really losing it.

Renny grabbed my arm and steered me away from the entrance, through a fence and into a waiting car.

Jed was in the driver’s seat. “Hey, I thought all you had to drive was the bus?”

He shrugged as Renny explained, “I thought you wanted the inside scoop. No?”

“Yes. Thanks. It was a bit of overkill but it will be good for the article.”

“Oh yeah, the article.” He reached to the front seat and grabbed a manila envelope. “Here’s some press pictures if you want to use them. You didn’t bring a photog did you?”

No, no I hadn’t. Mostly because we didn’t have one for me to bring. I grabbed the envelope and opened it expecting the same cheesy PR shots I got from everyone. They were there, no doubt, but there were also candid shots of the brothers camping, playing music in a parking lot with the bus behind them and even riding a rope swing into a river. Nice. Personable. Good ol’ boys.

Good ol’ boys with panties in their back pocket.

“Hey, this is the wrong way,” I said to Jed, who again shrugged and pointed at Renny.

“We go to this great little pub in Troutdale. Thought you could meet the other guys and get all you need to make us look shiny. “

“You mean, stir up the natives before the big concert at the Gorge Amphitheatre on Wednesday.”

He laughed an insolent, infectious, toothy, meaty guffaw. “Right. Except it sold out months ago. Hey there Rachel Drake, you may not know of us but we are big time, right Jed?”

“The biggest.”

“How much do you pay this poor guy to be your butt-kisser and lackey?”

“Hell, I don’t pay him nothin’. Meet my cousin Jed.”

Jed reached back to shake my hand never taking his eyes off the road.

“They do feed me and let me sleep under the bus most nights, so I’m not complaining.”

“I hear the resemblance. What is it about Tennessee that creates smart-asses?”

“Jed here’s from Arkansas, right Jed? He’s the hillbilly in the family. Heck, sleeping under a bus is a step up for him.”

“Got that right cuz.”

I smiled but vowed revenge. I was not taken in by their country charm bit. I knew that tour bus was top of the line and cost over a 100 thousand at least. They may want me to believe they were just simple folk but they were clearly rolling in some serious cash.

The bar was a true hole-in-the-wall, full of genuine good ol’ boys, girls in Daisy Dukes and a jukebox as stuck in time as the patrons. The Taylor Brothers were right at home. When Renny and I arrived Garrett was holding court at a table with at least ten women hanging on his every word and Reade was beating some trucker at darts. The rest of the band and the roadies were scattered all around, drinking beer, eating burgers and greasy fries and blowing off steam; Taylor Brothers style.

Except for the gaggle of adoring girls you would never have known they were famous. Even without that, they were all attractive enough to have garnered female attention on their own. I had to admit, good genes ran in the family. And speaking of jeans, Renny was wearing the shit out of some black ones, again. What is it about a svelte, lanky man with a good butt? Usually the thin guys have the jeans hanging down against epic flatness but not Renny, or the other two, from what I could see. These boys had asses for days. I had to admit that after long hair and gorgeous eyes, I am an ass woman. Always like that little something extra to grab.

Rachel, this kind of thinking is inappropriate for a woman your age, a journalist and a feminist and it is also going to land you in the looney bin.

Renny steered me towards Garrett and his harem. “Hey Gar, this is the reporter I was telling you about. She’s gonna interview you so we gotta ask you lovely ladies to give us some room, all right?”

A couple of the girls drifted off but the others just crowded closer to Garrett, who didn’t seem to mind at all. He spread his long arms across the back of the booth taking in at least four of them who snuggled right in.

“Sit on down little lady, and ask away. I got nothing to hide. Unlike these other two miscreants.” Garrett had the same lop-sided smile as Renny. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t an affectation, just maybe it was genetic genius.

I sat down, pulled out my yellow pad as Renny gestured to the bartender to bring drinks. I turned my attention to Garrett while he wasn’t looking. He was blonde where Reade and Renny were brunette and copper. He seemed taller than either of them but very relaxed about it.
He clearly uses it to his advantage,
I thought, taking in his wing-span.
The better to hug you with, my dears.
Yes, there was something rather Big Bad Wolfy about him.

“When did you start playing the fiddle? I was thoroughly impressed tonight.”

“You like the fiddle?”

“I spent a couple of years in Ireland when I was in graduate school. The music is kind of like the mist there, no getting rid of it.”

“We are trying to get a few venues there next year. I’m tired of North America right now.”

“So you like the traveling?”

“Hell yes. What’s not to like? Great food, good friends, music and lovely ladies everywhere we go.”

“Sounds like the good life, for a bachelor. No one waiting at home I gather.”

“Oh, they’re waiting pretty lady.”

What a character! It was like he was play-acting the perfect bed-hopping cad but was doing it with the patented Taylor Brothers blend of charm and sexy it only made the girls sigh.

“Do you enjoy playing with your brothers?”

“Don’t ever have twins. Rachel, is it?” I nodded. “They are more than double the pain, they are pain squared. The identical bad boys of country.”

“I did not know that,” I said, giving Renny a knowing smirk.

“Hell, everyone knows that. Where you been?”

Renny perked up at that. “Hey don’t paint us with your tar brush, brother. Besides, she’s not a fan Gar. Never heard us until tonight.”

“I’m not up on all the newest…” I stuttered, then I pointed at the girls. “I don’t think I’m your demographic.”

“You’d be surprised,” Garrett said, “we got fans of all ages. Last week I got a marriage proposal from a 62 year old widow.”

“No shit,” Renny answered.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“Told her what I tell ‘em all, I’m married to my music.” He gathered two of the girls to him. “And variety. The spice of life. ” He then went into some sort of weird, ghetto voice, “I’m the ladies man.”

“What?”

“Don’t encourage him. It’s an old bit from Saturday Night Live.  He thinks he’s some kinda comedian.”

He was funny and I couldn’t help laughing as he continued the bit. The ‘ladies’ man’ was definitely a hit with all of the ladies as well. I could see how Garrett effortlessly reeled them in. Why would he ever settle down?

Two beers were set down in front of Renny. He slid one to me.

“I don’t drink beer.”

“What? Why didn’t you speak up?”

“You didn’t ask me.”

“Well Holy Moly, how can you live in Portland?”

“I manage. There’s more than just micro-breweries to the place. I know that’s hard to believe.”

“That’s my favorite part of the town. Hell, now I feel like an idiot. What can I get you? Wine?”

“Diet soda is fine.”

“Diet soda? It’s Saturday night, baby girl. Have a drink. I’m sure you can still scribble on that little pad after one lousy drink.”

“Fine. Kahlua and cream.”

“Coming up –one alcoholic milkshake.” He slid out and went to the bar to put in my order. Reade slid right into his place.

Seeing Reade up close I could see the twin thing but they had worked really hard to look as different as possible. Where Renny’s hair was curly and long, Reade’s was short and spiky. He was also wearing eyeliner, which I have to admit, looked pretty great on him. It was a little intimidating to be sitting next to a man wearing more make-up than me. But then, he was prettier too. They all were.

“So you the lady reporter?”

“That’s me.”

He held out his hand and gave me a firm handshake. Reade seemed a little tightly coiled compared to the other brothers. I knew from Google that he was the only married brother and had recently become a father. Maybe that explained the tension. Temptation was all around him and it was … well, pretty tempting, even I could see that.

“Don’t let this guy start his comedy routines or you’ll get nothing.”

Garrett laughed and turned back to his fans and his burger.

“I hear congratulations are in order. You just had a baby?”

He perked up noticeably and reached for his phone, flipping through his pictures until he found the latest one. He showed it to me just like any other new father, though his pride was laced with longing.

“Well, my wife did. Ain’t she a beauty?”

“She sure is.” She was a baby, squishy and bumpy. “What’s her name?”

“Claudine. My wife’s father’s name is Claude and we wanted to honor him.”

“Claudine is a very pretty name. I’m sure he is a proud Grandpa.”

“Yeah, I guess. He gets to see her every day, not like her papa.”

“That must be hard on all of you.”

“You got children, Rachel?”

“Uh, no.” I wasn’t going to let him take over this interview like his brother had last week. I needn’t have worried, he wasn’t interested in my answer in any way. It seemed like he needed to talk. I’m a good listener so I sat back and let him roll on.

“Things change. Not just like the love stuff but other things change too. Your relationships. My wife used to travel with us and we had a blast. Everyone loved her and she fit right in, she’s not one of them fussy gals. But now …”

“A new baby isn’t quite the thing for an all boys touring bus, huh?”

“Yeah, not quite. They all said it wouldn’t bother them, but it would have and they were relieved when Claire, my wife, turned down the offer. She wants a proper home upbringing for our girl. Can’t say I blame her, that’s what we had after all. Living on the road is no way to raise a family.”

“That puts you in a tough spot.”

“Claire knew what she was getting into marrying a musician and it was easy when she was with me all the time. It’s just now …” he glanced back at Garrett and over at Renny surrounded by women, “well, the temptation is mighty tempting. And I miss them, like, all the time.”

“I know that long-distance marriages are tough on anyone, not just celebrities. My own Dad traveled all the time too.”

“But you loved him, right?”

“Oh sure, but I can’t say I really knew him. How long is the rest of the tour? You’re done soon, right?

“Nope. We got most of Canada to hit on the way home. It’ll be two months before I see Claudine –and Claire –again. I don’t even have a day off to fly back. She’ll be all growed up by then.”

“No, she won’t Reade. She’s a baby. She’s gonna sleep most of these two months and wake up just in time to see you. You’ll be there for first steps, first words.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I like you Rachel Drake. Renny done himself proud for once.”

“Oh, I’m not .. Renny and I, we’re not …”

“Relax, little lady, I was just yanking your chain, though Renny did talk about you like you hung the moon. I can see you’re not… well… I’d love to see him with someone, though. Get him over that divorce.”

BOOK: Her Younger Man (A Country Music Romance): a Renny and Rachel Romance
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