Uncovering Hope (Uncovering Love Book 3) (23 page)

“Can I help with anything?” I ask.

“Yes!” Melissa stops mashing potatoes to give me a quick hug. “Will you open a few bottles of wine, a white and red? And get yourself a glass, too. Dinner will be ready in fifteen.”

“Thanks for having us,” I say.

“Of course. We’re family.” She grins.

I open the bottles and Melissa calls everyone inside the kitchen for a toast. Some already have a beer in hand, someone snuck my boys cans of soda, and I fill glasses for who all is left. Melissa hands off a glass of merlot to Kate and I watch closely as she takes a sip
. Really?
She hasn’t told anyone yet. Somehow that doesn’t fit. She’s always so brash and honest that I’d expect her to shout the news from the rooftop. I can’t believe she’s able to contain her excitement.

I watch Jon and he smiles, murmuring something about getting her drunk and she winks. “You know I will,” she says loud enough we all can hear. She takes another sip and I can’t help but glare. I can’t believe she’d be so careless to drink alcohol while pregnant. She finds my gaze and glares back harder.

Drew begins a toast, “I’d just like to thank you all for being here today to celebrate. I look around this room and our little circle is growing. I couldn’t be happier to call you all dear friends and family. And we have so much to be thankful for in the coming year.” Kate finally looks away, directing her gaze at Drew. “Linda and Carl’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary in January. Evie and Tate’s wedding in April. And well, there’s a big surprise . . .”

Drew glances around the room. His lips pull wide, illuminating his face in a beaming smile. He pauses and even little Claire halts her babbling as if waiting for him to continue.

“Or should I say little?” If possible he grins wider. “A baby in May.”

Kate’s eyes go wide and she gasps, her gaze bounces from me to Drew and back to me. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!” she shouts.

I blink and shake my head. “I didn’t.”

“Melissa and I are expecting.” Drew gives Kate a strange look and then pulls his wife to his side and kisses her unapologetically. Evie and Linda laugh and clap, obviously privy to Melissa and Drew’s news as their faces show no signs of surprise. My boys let out a chorus of disgusted noises and that’s when my gaze finds Jon’s expression. He’s staring at Kate even though she’s still shooting daggers my way.

“Kate? Are you? Are we?” His rough voice steals all the attention in the room.

Her gaze softens as her chin lifts to meet Jon’s eyes. Kate’s eyes glisten and she nods. Tears spill down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry my sweet, sassy woman.” Jon cups her face and wipes the tears with his thumbs, peppering kisses in their wake.

“I can’t help it!” She laughs on a sob. “Damn hormones!”

“Come here!” He growls, picks her up, and spins in a circle. “We’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!”

“Well, yeah! Did you just think I was getting fat?” She giggles.

“You’re beautiful.” He stops, captures her lips, and I have to look away. The moment is too intimate, too full of desire; it’s as if I’m intruding just by watching.

“Oh, God! Get a room!” Evie teases, but she’s grinning. “Seriously? My sister and my best friend will both be gigantic preggo at my wedding! Carly, you’re not pregnant too, are you?”

“God, no!” I laugh, and then mutter to myself. “You have to have a man for that.” The room fills with congratulations, well wishes, and warmth. The amount of love in this small space is almost suffocating.

“You’ll find a good one, sweetie.” Linda pats my arm sympathetically. I just laugh.

“I’m not sure about that. It’s okay, though. I have my boys. They’re enough.”

“Mmmhmm.” She tsks as if she knows better. I paste on a polite smile and bite back a smart retort. They are enough. Two healthy boys. It’s more than most have. And I don’t need a man. I certainly didn’t need Josh. I sure as hell don’t need a know-it-all arrogant doctor. And I especially don’t need a famous drummer. One who spends his free time making sick kids happy, and the only man I picture when I get myself off.

Mmmhmm.

“DEREK! SO GLAD I CAUGHT
you, man.” Max’s chipper voice greets me from my half slumber state. He’s the music producer our agent Bedo put me in contact with a few weeks back. I twist inside my sleeping cubby. I’m glad I heard my phone ring but I don’t want to wake the entire band.

“Hi, Max. Did you get the songs I sent over last night, well, this morning?”

“Yeah. Fuck. I don’t know how you do it. You realize you could make a living off writing music alone? You’re giving me more material than most songwriters, and all this while being on the road? Damn. You make me question my own work ethic.”

“Thanks, Max. I’ve been inspired and I can’t help it. The music just comes.” I keep my voice low.

“Well, you better have a good tax accountant. I’ve got several artists considering using your songs alone for their upcoming albums. Payday, man. For you and me both. These songs are great.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Just keep ’em coming. I’ll call Bedo later. We’ll start signing paperwork for exclusive rights.”

“Thanks, Max. Talk soon.”

“Bye.”

I stretch and hit my hand on the wall of my cubby. Fuck. I’m ready to be back in my own bed.

I blow out a breath and scrub my hands across my face and over the stubble of my scalp. What awesome news to start the day with. I’m glad I can sell my songs, but even if I couldn’t I’d still be writing. It’s a part of me. Helps me deal with life and whatever I’m feeling at the moment. I want to tell someone. To share this good news.

I want to tell Carly.
I close my eyes and groan because
goddamn
I don’t want to think about her, but I can’t stop. She’s always on my mind, and the closer we are to getting back to Phoenix the more I think about her. We’ll arrive in LA today and fly home in two nights. I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t stop my fingers from scrolling through to open her contact on my phone. I fire off one text before I overthink it.

“I miss my naughty nurse. Be home soon.”

She probably won’t answer back. She’s probably sleeping right now. Maybe she’s spending time with dick face doctor. Fuck. Of course the first woman I go and fall in love with wants nothing to do with me. God, if I didn’t have this band right now, my music, I would be depressed as hell.

And to top that off, Luis is getting worse. The last few nights on video chat he barely kept his eyes open to talk more than a few minutes. I make it a point to send him lots of stupid memes and funny YouTube clips throughout the day. Anything that will put a smile on his face. I scroll through my stash of funny crap and send one his way.

Luckily, my mom’s Alzheimer’s hasn’t progressed this month the way I feared. It’s as if life knows I can’t take everything falling apart at once and she’s gracing me a little more precious time. Mom still has bad days but her caregivers assure me that we’re at a standstill, for now.

That can change at any moment but isn’t that the truth with time anyway? We live as if it’s never ending, flowing freely, yet it can be snatched away in a second—by disease, by misfortune, by a simple decision or turn of events.

“Dude, you up?” Trent says from the bunk above.

“Yeah. I’m up.” I roll out and stretch my limbs, working out the kinks from sleeping in such a strange position.

Trent swings his legs out and then hops down, tucking his long hair behind his ears. “Oh, man, I’m jonesin’ for a real bed. Tonight’s going to kick ass. Staples Center and then a hotel room. Livin’ large.”

“I hear you, bro.” I move to the kitchenette and brew two cups of coffee. Trent sits at the table, his gaze on the world whizzing by, concrete mile after mile.

“I was thinking about the first time we played in LA. You remember that?” Trent asks, accepting the coffee mug I hand him. I grab my own and take the seat across, stretching my legs under the table and onto the bench beside him.

“How could I ever forget that shithole?” I chuckle and Trent joins in.

“I remember thinking, dude, this is it. After all the hard work. We’re making it, being hired to play. And then Austin goes and fucks it up—puking his guts out minutes before we went on.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Headlining in LA, that was big stuff. What were there, like thirty people at that show?” A smile plays at my lips and I mix in a few more packets of sugar.

“I think if you count the waitress and bartender, yeah.” Trent laughs. “But I’m proud of us man. We stuck it out. There were times I considered quitting, and then you or Austin or Sean would talk some sense into me. I’m really fucking proud of us. Thankful. You know?”

“I know, Trent. I know.”

“I’m really glad I met you, D. I know you write your own stuff, but this band . . . we wouldn’t be the same without you.” He meets my gaze and though his tone is light, his eyes ascertain my reaction.

“You worried I’m quitting on you?” I tease.

“You can’t quit me, bro.” He laughs. “Who could ever give up this?” He waggles his eyebrows and flexes his chest muscles so they bounce up and down.

“You’re one pretty bastard.” I say. Trent scoffs.

“Pretty?”

“You heard me, fucker.” I take a drink and gaze out the window. “I’d never leave you guys. You’re my brothers, you know that?”

“Aww . . . we’re getting sentimental and shit.”

“You’re the one who started it with the trip down memory lane.”

His eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He looks back out the window. “It’s just—you weren’t yourself this tour. You hardly ever came out with us and did you even score any pussy? I don’t know, it got me thinking . . . I know you’ve been writing more. I just . . . I guess I need to know if you’re considering leaving the band.”

I blink my eyes and sit up straight in my chair, grounding my feet on the floor.

“Trent. Dude. I’m not leaving the band. You know me. You know I live for music. I’d never give this up.”

He shrugs and studies my face. “People change, though.”

“But do they really?” I shake my head. “I know I’ve been distracted. It’s how I get when I’m writing. You know this.”

“You’re writing like a fucking maniac though, and I’ve never seen you like that. What’s going on? It is your mom? A woman? Something else?” He asks.

I laugh humorlessly. “All of the above.”

“Shit. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” I say and he nods, looking relieved at my answer.

“But you’re not quitting the band?”

“Never, man.” And I won’t. No way. We’ve worked too hard for this. I’d never let them down. I don’t like living on the road, that’s just how it is for me, but this career choice demands it so I make the best of it.

“Good.”

Two more days. I can do two more days. Then I’ll see my mom, visit with Luis, and go see my girl.
She’s not your girl
.

Two more days and we’ll see about that.