String Beans (The Girls of Beachmont #2)

String Beans

The Girls of Beachmont
~ Book 2

A Fumbled Novel

by T.K. Rapp

©
Copyright
Notice

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places,
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. This book contains material
protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any
unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this
book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system without express written permission from the author, T.K.
Rapp.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you are
reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use
only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank
you for respecting the author’s work.

Cover Design by T.K. Rapp

Edited by Amy Jackson

Cover Images Courtesy ~ George Rudy/Bigstock.com

Copyright © 2015 T.K. Rapp

All rights reserved.

Dedication

For those who have lost their voice…

and those who have found it.

Table of Contents

“I’m heading home,
Alex,” I told my boss as I grabbed my belongings. My long brown hair was caught
beneath the strap of my messenger bag, and as I wrestled with setting it free,
I stumbled. Fortunately, I beat out clumsiness because I caught myself before
falling over completely.

“Done for the day?”

“Yeah, just
finished with Sadie,” I smiled.

“How’s she doing?”
he asked through a laugh, keeping his eyes fixed on the drum kit he’d been
working on.

“She’s doing great,
but then again, she’s your kid,” I reminded him with a grin.

I had been giving
his eleven-year-old guitar lessons when clients canceled. As it turned out, she
had been getting lots of practice time lately. But she was a natural. Still, it
would be nice if my regulars showed up. Will and I needed the extra money to
help make rent.

“You and Will doing
anything tonight?”

“I doubt it. He’s
been working nights at the club and our schedules are completely messed up.”

“That’s married
life, huh?” He laughed again.

“Yeah,” I muttered
before grabbing my guitar case and waving goodbye as I headed out the front
door.

The brisk fall
afternoon air greeted me and the descending sun momentarily blinded me while I
slipped my sunglasses on. We had had so much rain the last week that I was
beginning to think the weather might be the reason for all the cancellations.

My beat-up Beetle
was parked in the back of the old red brick building next to Alex’s new pickup.
I’d gotten the car when I was in high school and there was no convincing reason
why I should get rid of it. Will teased me that the undercarriage was probably
rusted and before long I’d be
Fred
Flintstoning
my way to work. She was old, but she’d
gotten me everywhere I needed to go, even if it did take at least two times to
get her started.

The engine finally
turned over and I headed home to our one-bedroom apartment a short fifteen
minutes away. We moved to Spring Park shortly after we finished college,
because Will said it would be good for our careers. Granted, there wasn’t much
back in Beachmont for music majors, but I wasn’t sure what he thought was so
much better about Spring Park.

I grew up in
Woodrock
, so I was used to being near everything. Clubs,
big concert venues—you name it, it was there. Maybe that’s why Will didn’t
want to move to my hometown: too much and too many people to hit it big. It was
a town full of successful people, and just as many failures.

Still, it took me
almost two months to find my job at Hodges Music Store, and while I appreciated
the work, it wasn’t exactly where I thought I’d end up. That’s why I went to
college, right? But then again, I did select music as my major. I could have
gone with something practical like business, but that was my parents’ dream.
Not mine. And a minor in business was my concession to appease them.

But it was two
years later and I was beginning to realize there was a chance I’d be working in
the music store for the rest of my life.

Since I was an only
child, it had been hard for my parents to tell me no, and I knew how to work
them. And when I married Will, despite their objections, they still gave me
away. But I never thought
I’d
end up
being the practical one in our marriage.
Where’s
the fun in that?

Will and I were a
perfect match ever since we met at Battle of the Bands in Wheeler while I was
in college. I was there with Dani, Millie, and Jolie, my roommates, to see some
friends of mine that were in competing groups. Millie was probably the only one
who didn’t have a thing for musicians, and that was never my scene either. I
mean, I’ve always loved music and could appreciate someone’s talent, but
hooking up with talent wasn’t me.

Until Will.

The third band was
playing and I didn’t care for their style, so it was the perfect time to hit up
the concession stand for another beer. Some guy was standing in front of me drunk
off his ass, and when he turned to leave with his beer he almost spilled it all
over me. Will must have seen it coming because he wrapped his arm around my
waist and swung me around so the beer missed me.

But it went all
over him.

He was an adorable mess.
His sandy blond hair was mussed, though that was him, not the beer. His concert
tee was soaked so he pulled it over his head, revealing muscular abs and a sexy
smirk when he caught me looking.

“Thanks,” I said,
as laid-back as I could. “Wasn’t necessary, but thanks.”

“No worries.” He
smiled. “Having fun?”

“Yeah. What about
you?” I asked, stepping up to order my beer. “Can I buy you a beer?”

“Isn’t that what
I’m supposed to say?” He smiled, but didn’t stop me either. He looked up at the
stage and nodded at the band playing. “So what you do you think of them?”

I didn’t even wait
to think of my response; I already had an opinion.

“They’re trying too
hard. It’s not bad, but where’s the passion? Where’s their soul? I want to feel
their words, but all I feel is screaming and angst—and not in the good
way. They just sound…boring.”

When he looked at
me, his mouth was slightly agape, but he recovered and handed me my beer as he
took the other.

“Don’t hold back,”
he laughed. “So what’s your name?”

“Viola, but everyone
calls me Vi.”

“Well,
Vi
, maybe I’ll see you around? Talk
music sometime?”

“Yeah, sure,” I
said and started to walk off, but he called my name and I had to turn around.

“So, does that mean
I get your number then?”

Of course I
couldn’t help but smile and give him my number. We chatted a little longer
before I said goodbye so I could rejoin the girls.

The crappy band had
already finished and I wondered how long I’d been gone. But I was also thankful
for the blond distraction. As I reached our spot on the lawn, the MC announced
the fourth band. The girls were screaming and laughing as the group took the
stage and I was just getting settled in when the lead singer stepped to the
mic.
I couldn’t see him, but I recognized the voice.

“Hey everyone, I’m Will
Banks and we’re Sound Venom. I was just talking to a friend who said that she
needs passion in her music, so let’s see what she thinks about this.”

He’s talking to me.

As I watched Will
strum his guitar, he began singing lyrics to a song I’d never heard. He was so
handsome up there and in his element. There were no excessive lights, no crazy
on-stage dramatics—it was just the band and their music. It was perfect.

He called me later
that night to ask what I thought, and I was a little surprised that he didn’t
play the game. All guys played the game, but not Will. We talked for several
hours and ended up meeting in the morning for coffee so we could talk some
more.

Three months later
we were engaged, and six months later we were in front of the justice of the
peace, getting married after our last class of the semester. Our parents were
against it, but there was nothing they could do or say to dissuade us.

It wasn’t
incredibly romantic, but it was exactly what I wanted.

Will encouraged the
risk-taker in me and I supported his dreams.

We weren’t exactly
opposites, but we were different enough to keep it interesting.

It all seemed great
in the beginning, but then I turned into someone who had to have a plan. I
needed direction, something to work toward. Will liked to go with the flow and
see what happened.

But I was learning
that going with the flow…didn’t pay the bills. Our senior year was spent
finishing school, graduating, and fighting over bills.

Unfortunately,
Sound Venom broke up. Damn shame because the guys were amazing. It was hard on
Will because he missed collaborating. Every once in a while, we would try to do
something together, but our musical styles were so different that it never
really meshed. He was beating himself up because he felt like a sellout without
his musician brothers and ended up having to get two jobs to help make ends
meet. However, he limited the time he spent working because he wanted to
continue making music.

I pulled into my
parking spot and grabbed my things before I headed inside. Will was working at
the fire station all day. His shifts there had been so crazy that we were lucky
if we shared a bed for more than a couple of hours. I hoped that I could have
dinner made by the time he got home so we could catch up before he left to tend
bar at the club.

He made serious
bank when he bartended and we needed the cash.

But I wasn’t an
idiot. I knew the reason he made such great tips was based on his sexy-as-hell
rocker looks. I had gone to the club to listen to local bands play and I saw
the way women looked at him. It always made me laugh because he gave them a
smile, or so they thought, but his eyes were always glued to mine.

In fact, my
confidence was something Will really loved. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have
guys hitting on me…though my husband didn’t handle it as well.

Our apartment was
on the first floor, which was a good thing. Will liked to play his music a
little loud, but I figured the old lady that lived above us was probably deaf—she
never complained. And the guy to our right was always high. We never really met
any of the other neighbors, but no one had told us to keep it down either. I
started walking up the sidewalk and a surge of excitement rolled through me
when I heard the music coming from our place.

He’s home!

“Hey,” I called out
when I walked into the apartment, “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

I set my things
down and made my way toward our room where the music was loudest. I pushed the
door open and it took me only a second to piece together what I was seeing.

You know those
movies where the wife walks in on her husband in bed with another woman and she’s
able to come up with some witty quip about letting the other woman finish? Yeah…that
doesn’t happen in real life. At least not
my
real life. Because I was momentarily stunned beyond words.

Will jumped out of
the bed and struggled to pull on his shorts while some blonde remained frozen,
looking as shocked to see me, as I was to see her. I didn’t bother giving her
the riot act because she meant nothing to me.

But he did.

“Oh Will, you have
got to be kidding me.” My voice sounded sad—resigned, even—as if I
knew. But I didn’t. “How cliché of you.”

He stood there and
I saw the regret all over his face, but I all I felt for him was pity and
disgust. He didn’t say anything and I turned to look at the woman wrapped in my
sheets.

“I’m guessing my
husband failed to mention a wife,” I concluded for her, and she looked on the
verge of tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she
muttered as she reached for her shirt. Her pants and G-string were at my feet
and I looked at Will as he stood there looking like a deer caught in
headlights. He didn’t take his eyes off me and didn’t move an inch. He was
either terrified of my calm, or hoping that if he stayed still long enough, I
wouldn’t notice that he was standing there while a naked woman lay in our bed.

“Nothing to say?”

Complete silence.

Except for the
sound of the “other” woman dressing in a hurry. I raised a questioning brow at
him and he closed his eyes for a moment before looking at me.

“Vi, it was an
accident,” he started, but I didn’t give him time to say anything else. I
charged toward him and pushed him into the wall, knocking his framed prized
concert poster down, shattering on the small desk below. Glass flew out and I
felt a couple of shards prick my leg, but the pain was nothing compared to what
he had just done to my heart.

“Don’t you
dare
try to speak to me like I’m an
idiot. You cheating bastard!”

I tried to move, but
he grabbed my wrist and held me in place as I struggled against him.

“Let. Me. Go.” The tears
that began to fall betrayed the calm in my voice and I could no longer look at
the man. He released his grasp on me and I turned to look at the chick who was
still scrambling to get dressed and out of our apartment and I shrugged.

What else could I
do? I couldn’t offer her apologies or explanations—those were on him. And
he was watching me walk away with devastation written all over his beautiful
face.

I grabbed the
bottle of wine from the fridge and the closest glass on my way out to the patio,
where I ended up forgoing the glass altogether and drinking straight from the
bottle.

If I were a smoker,
it would be the perfect time to light one up. I started looking around in the
few plants that we had outside to see if his friends had left anything, but
before I was able to locate something, I was interrupted. The front door closed
and I heard the sounds of a small feminine voice clearing her throat behind me.