Reforming the Rock Star Read online

  He shoved that false hope aside and shook off his reverie, determined to kick back, keep it worry-free and enjoy the festivities.

  Callie and Jake broke apart, both beaming, and Laz felt a twinge of envy. Dash wasn’t the only one madly in love. That made two buddies who had landed the girls of their dreams. He was happy as hell for both of them, but he’d been there, done that, and had found out the hard way that he wasn’t capable of maintaining a relationship and a successful music career simultaneously.

  It was one or the other, and the choices he’d made the last time he’d fallen in love with a woman had almost killed her.

  More power to Jake and Callie if they could make it work, though. The idea of having someone to come home to after a long tour and spend his days and nights with was something he could totally get on board with.

  “Lori and Dash went into town but should be back in time for dinner. You guys must be starving after such a long ride.” Callie wrapped her arm around Jake’s waist, and he slung his around her shoulder.

  Laz grabbed his guitar case and suitcase from the trunk before following the group as they made their way up to the white wraparound porch and up the steps. “This place is really something.”

  “Glad you like. This is where we’ll be staying, along with the rest of the wedding party. Then there are several guesthouses spread around the grounds to sleep the remaining guests.”

  Laz nodded, thoroughly impressed. “Good pick outta you, buddy.”

  When Jake had told his groomsmen of his plans to “take Callie away from it all” and leave the hubbub of San Fran to have a destination wedding in Callie’s hometown, Laz had thought he was nuts.

  Northern Cali had everything to offer. Some of the best restaurants in the world, not to mention great beaches and nightlife. But as he looked around at the emerald-green grass and rolling hills around them, he had to admit, it didn’t have this.

  He sucked in a long, slow breath. Jesus, even the air tasted clean. And even better? No damned cameras flashing in their faces.

  “He’s awesome, right?” Callie agreed, pushing the front door opened and ushering them into the foyer.

  The interior of the dwelling was just as spectacular as the exterior, and he nodded. “Yeah, pretty awesome.” Maybe once The Rift got through their end of summer tour he’d come back and rent the place out for a month of hard-core fishing. He could already feel the tension leaving his body and his mojo returning. “Where’s the lake? Close by?”

  Callie chuckled and reached out her hand to press a button on the wall beside her. The shade that spanned the entire back wall rose slowly, revealing a view that could have graced an advertisement from the Montana chamber of commerce.

  The window was one solid piece of glass, a hundred feet long and so spic-and-span clean that if he didn’t know better, he might’ve thought there was no glass at all. He crossed the room to soak it in…the enormous lake surrounded by elm trees, its crystal navy waters dotted with fishing boats and canoes.

  “What’s the name of it?”

  “Echo Lake. We grew up splashing around in that puddle our whole lives. Albeit, not on this side.” Her laugh was brittle, and Laz tore his gaze away from the spectacular sight to study her.

  Jake had told him once before that she and her sister Lori hadn’t had the best childhood, but Callie had always seemed so positive and optimistic. It was hard to imagine her having it tough. Now, though, he saw it. For just a flash, but it was there. A sadness in the eyes, a hint of regret bracketing her mouth, along with acceptance. A second later, in typical Callie fashion, she rebounded with a shrug.

  “We kids loved that lake, though. Me and Lori and Syd had some of the best times of our lives on the rocky beach right over there.” She stepped closer to the window and pointed across the expanse of water to a little cove. “One time we ran away from home and slept right there, eating beans from a can and telling ghost stories.”

  Her face was soft and clearly that was a happy memory, but Laz could tell it hit his buddy hard. Jake rubbed her back gently. “I’m glad you guys had each other.”

  She shook her head and seemed to drag herself back from the past. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without them, honestly. We saved each other.”

  “Well I’m glad you had one another. Speaking of Syd, is she here yet?”

  Callie shook her head. “Tomorrow morning.” She turned to face Laz. “Speaking of which, when did you want to do the bachelor party? If you want her to do some food, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. I told her you might contact her. Maybe give her a call?”

  “I want to do it before any of the guests get here.” Seemed like the perfect opportunity for some much-needed bonding time with his bandmates. “So tomorrow night or the next, maybe?” He shrugged halfheartedly and Callie gave him the stink eye.

  Jake had known full well when he’d asked Laz to be his best man that he wasn’t the planning type. So far, Laz had settled on hiring a designated driver, lots of beer, maybe a few games of pool and possibly a burlesque show or a strip club, if he could convince either of his whipped buddies to agree to one. He wasn’t big on them the rest of the time, but it was tradition and who was he to argue with tradition?

  Other than those few bachelor party staples, he was pretty apathetic about the rest of it. To his mind, hot dogs and beer nuts at the bar were fine for a bunch of guys out drinking, and he told Callie as much.

  “Call her.” She handed him a business card with a number on it. “I’m not having my man out all night without some proper food in his belly before he gets home.”

  He slipped the card into his pocket with a sigh. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.” Not exactly a promise to call her friend, but apparently enough to get Callie off his back, because she beamed at him.

  “Perfect. Now who wants some chicken salad?”

  They all trailed behind as she led them toward the kitchen, but Laz’s mind was already somewhere else. He’d made a mental note to look into one club in particular when they’d driven through town on the way in. Peep Show Pete’s.

  Weary of sex with groupies, it had been a while since he’d seen a naked woman. He wasn’t sure Montana was the best place to get back on the horse, but all this love in the air lately was dredging up a lot of old memories better left buried.

  Seemed like the best cure would be a reminder of what he’d been missing followed by long, hard ride from a woman who wanted the same. Then he could shake this feeling and get back to doing what he liked best.

  Playing music and living for the now.

  Chapter Two

  “Sydney?”

  “Yes, this is she.” The voice on the other end of the line was low and so sweet and melodic, it took him a second to remember why he’d called in the first place.

  “This is Laz Stone, Jake’s best man. Callie gave me your number and said I should give you a call.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and Laz briefly wondered if they’d been disconnected. Maybe it was for the best. He hadn’t even wanted to make the call in the first place. After dinner that night when Lori and Dash had gotten back, Laz tried to pass the torch on this part of the job, but Lori wasn’t budging. She apparently “had enough on her plate, and if he needed someone to hold his hand to plan a party for a measly half-dozen people, then maybe he should’ve considered that before agreeing to be best man.”

  That one was a real handful.

  Especially now that she was in full-blown wedding-plan mode. It almost made him feel a twinge of pity for Dash. She was like a cyclone on heels, blasting through the estate, bellowing orders left and right. He’d managed to avoid getting caught in the maelstrom until Dash had privately encouraged him to ask for her input, confiding that she loved all the action.

  He hadn’t realized until he’d seen the vein in her forehead start to pulse and heard his friend laughing his ass off in the hallway that it was his version of a practical joke. He’d pay that son of
a bitch back tenfold.

  “Hello?”

  The soft voice on the other end of the line dragged him back to the present, and he put the revenge fantasies on hold.

  “Sorry, I got distracted for a second there. I’m in charge of Jake’s bachelor party tomorrow night and was hoping you might be able to work with me on the food.”

  Silence crackled over the line and he wondered if they’d been disconnected. Now it was his turn to say, “Hello?”

  “Tomorrow? Um, yeah. I guess I can do that. How many people and what kind of food were you thinking?”

  His brain churned furiously. He pretty much hadn’t been thinking of anything yet. That was why he’d called her. In hindsight, though, that did seem a little silly. Surely a grown man could come up with some ideas for food at a bachelor party.

  “Well, it’s just the groomsmen, and we’re going to do a pub crawl in town first.” Although Fairbanks had a small-town feel, it had a pretty hopping Main Street that housed no fewer than five watering holes.

  Laz figured they could christen them all, starting in the afternoon, stick in at the last stop, Peep Show Pete’s, and then head back to the largest of the three carriage houses on the estate for some good eats and a cake, preferably with a lady housed inside it.

  Now that he was on the phone with angel-voiced Sydney Metcalf, though, he felt a little weird about asking where he might fulfill his last request and decided to procure that item elsewhere.

  “But as far as menu, I’m wide open.” He leaned back in the armchair and closed his eyes in anticipation of hearing more of those golden tones. She didn’t disappoint.

  “Hmmm…”

  Hmmm was right. Even that sounded sexy and soothing at the same time. He wondered briefly if she sang at all.

  “We could do pork shank on the bone, with different sauces. Oh! And then some mini-Wellingtons with a nice aus jus? With a petite potato gratin and some haricot vert.”

  Anything soothing about her voice vanished as she warmed to the topic of food. Now she sounded more like she was talking about sex. Her pitch went up just a little, her tone getting breathy. He cleared his throat and let his eyes pop open, ignoring the twitch beneath his belt.

  “Sure, whatever you think. Sounds great.” Anything to cut this call short. Next thing he knew, he’d be turning into a creeper and asking her what she was wearing.

  “Perfect.” The hesitation that had been on her end was gone, and she seemed to be into the idea. “Do you want me to give you a detailed menu once I work it all out or are you okay if I wing it?”

  “Go for it. Callie trusts you with her wedding food.” And more importantly, Lori hadn’t overruled that decision. “That must mean you know what you’re doing. It’s in your hands.” And if that meant all he had to do was show up, drink, eat, and pay the bill for it? Even better.

  “Excellent. I’m getting in late afternoon, so I’m not sure if I’ll see you before you leave, but trust that I’ll have everything ready for you. What time do you expect to be back?”

  Callie and Lori both had insisted that the men come home at a “reasonable time” and he wasn’t about to risk his neck by defying them. “I’m shooting for around eleven.”

  “Sounds good. Text me when you’re twenty minutes out, and I’ll make sure the food is hot and me and my sous chef are out of the way before you get there. I’ll use paper goods so you can just toss everything when you’re done.” She paused. “This sounds like a lot of fun.”

  He sure hoped so. This would be the first time Dash was really back in the fold for any amount of time, and with Rocky acting weird, who knew how it was going to turn out. “Thanks.” He disconnected and set his phone on the wide walnut desk.

  There was nothing to worry about. This was the perfect time to let the past go and for them all to get back together and heal old wounds. Maybe they’d be able to leave Montana feeling like brothers again.

  He stared at the phone and wondered briefly what Sydney-the-caterer looked like. Judging by her voice, it could go either way. Smoking hot, curves to make a man’s hands itch, or pleasingly plump, soft and nurturing. Not that he minded either way.

  He loved women. All women. Skinny ones, chubby ones, tall ones, short ones. He loved the way they walked and tasted and talked. The way their hair smelled and how soft their skin was.

  Not that it mattered in this case.

  Sydney was Callie’s best friend, and she would kill him if he seduced her. He was out of the relationship game, and Callie was well aware of that. If she saw him macking on one of her girls, she’d probably take off one of those fancy shoes and hit him with it.

  Although, if Sydney were to come on to him? Well, what was a man supposed to do? He was only flesh and blood after all.

  He rolled to his feet, determined to get in a workout and a haircut before dinnertime. He didn’t want to look rough when he ran into sweet-voiced Sydney.

  He closed his eyes for one more second and replayed that throaty little hum in his head. Yeah, if Sydney Metcalf looked even a third as good as she sounded, he was in trouble.

  …

  “More shallots, I think.”

  Syd tossed her tasting spoon into the sink and wiped her damp palms on her apron. Another forty-five minutes before the guys were scheduled to arrive, and everything was in good shape. Pork was resting, steaks were just coming off, and the potatoes were almost done.

  So why was she so damned nervous? She’d fed a hundred times as many guests almost every weekend for the past few years as a chef and then even more than that in the past few months as a caterer. So why were the opinions of these guys so dang important to her?

  Or was it just one guy?

  She turned on the faucet with a jerky motion and soaped up her hands. What was it about Laz Stone had her all in knots? They’d talked about nothing but the food and mundane details and she was acting like they’d had phone sex or something.

  Although, to be fair, listening to Laz’s low, sexy drawl, it had felt a little like that. Not that she had anything to compare it to, but when she’d hung up, she’d felt flustered, warm, and her nerves were lit up like the Montana night sky.

  Laz Stone was one of the sexiest men on the planet. And that wasn’t even her opinion. It was a fact, according to Rock and Roll Times magazine. He was number eight, to be exact. It was perfectly normal for her to feel flustered and want to impress him. Callie and Lori might be used to hanging out with rock gods who looked like they’d been conceived in Olympus, but she sure as heck wasn’t.

  Sure, she’d met Dash and Jake on her visit to San Francisco, but they were both taken. And neither of them had that dark, exotic, sexy vibe that Laz gave off, even through a television screen. She just had to thank her lucky stars The Rift was a rock band.

  If they played country music, she wasn’t sure she could hold herself back. In any case, it was a good thing she and Paula would have already packed up her knives and vacated the guesthouse before the men arrived.

  She needed one more day to prepare mentally for the reality of Laz Stone.

  “Do you think the jus needs more pepper?”

  Her sous chef and honorary little sister, Paula, held out a spoon, and Syd dipped her head forward to taste, grateful for the interruption.

  She was driving herself crazy over nothing.

  She added a little more salt to the sauce and took another taste. “Delicious,” she murmured as the dark, spicy broth washed over her palate.

  Paula smiled. “Awesome. You take over here. I’m going to set the cooler out in the great room. Be back in a jiff.” She swept out of the room and left Syd alone with her thoughts.

  Syd was just putting the finishing touches on the cheese plate when a strangled shout from the next room caught her attention.

  “They’re here!” Paula yelled.

  Here? Syd barreled through the door, gaze locked on the window where several gorgeous, behemoth men weaved their way toward the door, laughing uproariously at somethi
ng that made Syd wish she was in on the joke.

  They were a sight to behold.

  If someone had told her they were a pack of werewolves who’d just morphed back into men, she wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

  And then there was Laz.

  A few inches taller than the rest and thickly muscled, he would look as at home on a warhorse carrying a battle-ax as he did on stage holding his guitar. Syd resisted the urge to check her chin for drool.

  A second later, through the haze of shock and excitement, the annoyance finally kicked in. He was supposed to have called to let her know they were on their way. The food wasn’t even in the chafing dishes yet.

  She refused to look down at her oil-spattered apron or touch a hand to her limp topknot. She couldn’t let them see her looking like this. Frigging men. No regard for schedules and sticking to them.

  She took a steadying breath and donned a bright smile for Paula’s sake.

  “Okay, so plan B.” She dragged Paula back into the kitchen and shut the door behind them. “I’m going to finish up the food. You say a quick hello to the guys with a tray of something, let them know the rest of the grub is on its way, all right?”

  Paula squealed and launched herself at Syd. “Oh my God, I wasn’t going to ask, but oh my God! I know the help sticks in the background, but if I could just maybe like, brush by and get a whiff of them, that would make my life.”

  Syd laughed and shook her head. “You are too much. Just make sure you don’t ask for their autograph or talk more than need be. If they engage you, that’s fine.” If she and Paula were going to keep moving toward the big time, they both needed to get used to celebrity clientele. She’d just look at this like a little surprise dry run.

  “Got it, boss.” Paula popped off a snappy salute and clicked her heels together.