You got to Me (Love on Tour #3) (12 page)

“You were with Mom and Dad, flying direct from Michigan, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. So what happened?”

“He showed up, and I showed him out,” Hank said.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” I pouted, looking pointedly at Hank.

“What does he want, Lisa?” Sean asked.

“He says he’ll be at the show in Atlanta.”

Hank folded his arms across his chest. “Is that where the fucker lives now?”

I nodded.

“We’ll just keep him out,” Sean said.

“How are you going to do that?”

He shrugged. “Mike will figure something out.”

“Yep,” Mike said.

“No seriously, how do you keep one guy out of thousands from entering a giant stadium?”

“You got a picture?” Mike asked.

“What are you going to do? Show the picture to every security guy at the place and tell them to look for this one guy?”

“That was what I was thinking, yeah.”

I sighed and looked at Bell. “All of a sudden, I have way too many big brothers.”

“Welcome to the family,” she said.

14

I had completely forgotten to investigate the ‘show’ Dani had mentioned. We got to Cleveland with time for a quick nap, shower, and dinner before Hank and Sean did their concert. Afterward, I was spent and went straight to bed. So it wasn’t until the next day that I found out what was really going on.

I’d had breakfast with Bell and Hank, then went back to my room to do some work on my laptop. Sean came to my door a little after noon.

“Hey,” I greeted him.

“Hi. So I don’t know if you had plans for today or not?”

We had a whole day of extra time. Why in Cleveland? I had no idea. I hadn’t made any plans other than just to read a book and have a little alone time.

“Well, I think maybe I forgot to tell you, but the rest of us are all going to see Sam’s show.”

“What show?”

“Yep, I forgot. Sorry, Leese. Um, he plays sometimes, like a hobby. He insists that it’s not serious. But he’s pretty damn good. Anyway, he’s got a gig this afternoon and we’re all going. You wanna join?”

Why was I surprised? Of course Sam played the guitar. I didn’t care what he said, he was walking in his brother’s footsteps.

“Sure, when are you leaving?”

“Now, actually.”

What kind of rock concert took place in the middle of the afternoon?

“Okay.”

“We’ll be gone a while.”

“Okay.” I grabbed my purse and followed Sean out the door.

****

“Um.” I stopped in my tracks. “We’re at a bluegrass festival,” I said.

“Surprise,” Sean said.

“Sean told us you were a big bluegrass fan,” Hank said. “So we figured we’d keep it a surprise. Though, why you are big bluegrass fan is beyond me.”

“Shut up and be supportive, Hank,” Sean said.

“Wait, Sam is playing
here
?”

Sean nodded.

“Come on, Leese. Let’s get a good spot on the grass,” Bell said, grabbing my arm.

“Not necessary,” Mike said. He pointed to a large open space, right in front of the stage. It was cordoned off with ropes. “That’s our spot, and I brought blankets.”

As we made our way toward the front I heard Hank say to Sean. “At least we get left alone in this crowd, man.”

Sean laughed. “Yeah, these are definitely not our fans. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”

It was nice. It was the first time we’d been anywhere in public that people weren’t crawling all over the two of them, asking for autographs.

We watched several bands play. I was having a great time. And Bell and I were both half-drunk from sipping on hard lemonades. The sun was setting when Sam finally came on.

“This is a band he used to play with in college sometimes,” Sean told me. “They’ve done pretty well for themselves. Anyway, the lead singer had some medical thing, so they asked Sam to fill in. But he plays acoustic guitar, not banjo. So he’ll do that, and the guy that usually plays acoustic, Rob, will play the banjo.”

“Sounds convoluted,” I commented. “Why doesn’t the guy with the banjo just sing, too?”

“Because they like Sam’s singing better. He has an incredible voice.”

That was really saying something. After all,
Rolling Stone
magazine had recently declared that Sean had the best singing voice of his generation. If he said someone sounded good, they had to.

I was still reeling as the band took their places on stage and gathered their instruments. Sam played acoustic guitar. Sam sang bluegrass. Holy shit. How did I not know this?

Sam walked out on stage, a guitar slung across his abdomen. The whole thing made him look so much like his brother. If we weren’t sitting on the grass, and there wasn’t a guy with a fiddle and guy with a banjo behind him, I could have sworn it was Sean walking on stage about to rock the place.

The guy with the banjo stepped up to the microphone and explained to the crowd that the lead singer wasn’t available and that their old buddy Sam was stepping in. He asked the crowd to give Sam a round of applause.

This tour had already brought a slew of unexpected things for me. I was so far out of my normal, routine life at this point, that another blow should not have come as a surprise to me. But it did.

Sam was good, really good. He did okay on the guitar. But after all, he was rusty. It was his voice that gave me chills. It was not the deep dark pitch and tone of his brother’s at all. It was his own thing, and it matched up with the music perfectly. And this – right here – this was Sam. Despite the resemblance, despite the fact that he was holding a guitar and singing into a microphone, exactly as his big brother did everyday to make a living, he was, without a doubt, his own person up there.

****

Sam was at my door. I knew it was him as soon as I heard the knock. And for the first time, I was happy about it.

I threw the door open. He was standing there, looking like a million bucks. “Hey, I just wanted to tell you we roll early tomorrow. Six am.”

“Okay. New York, right?”

“Yeah. You okay? Need anything?”

I opened the door wider, and stepped aside. He looked surprised, but walked in anyway. I shut the door behind him.

“You alright, Lisa?”

“Yeah. I really liked your show.”

Until Sean, I had not wanted a man since my divorce. But that was different. Because from the beginning I knew I couldn’t have Sean, and because I looked at Sean differently now. But I’d had Sam, and I was pretty sure that what I was feeling was the desire to have him again.

“Yeah, Sean said you liked bluegrass music.”

“It’s funny. All that time you spent trying to get me to go out with you. Why didn’t you use that?”

“I’m not really a musician. I can’t pick up a guitar and woo a woman like Sean can.”

He could woo me. “You’re good.”

“Eh, I play for fun. I jam with Sean and Hank, and some buddies back home. But I’m not very good. I missed a lot on the guitar. Shit, I hadn’t been on stage in years before today.” He ran a hand through his hair. It was loose right now, not in the usual tidy ponytail.

“You have a great voice,” I said.

“Thanks,” he smiled. “But…”

“But what? You do.”

“Music is not my thing. I just do it to relax. So, you liked the festival?”

“Yeah.” I walked over to the bed and sat down on the end of it.

Sam stepped toward me. “Which band was your favorite? The Goojees were pretty good.”

“I liked yours the best.”

He looked surprised again. He was standing a few feet away from me, watching me.

“Lisa?”

“Yeah?”

“Did watching me play turn you on?”

I decided to go with the truth. “Yes.”

“Huh?”

“What do you mean, huh?”

“Wow, I guess I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Shit. I was screwing this up somehow. I wasn’t even sure how. Maybe Sam only liked me when I played hard to get.

“Okay,” I said hesitantly.

He stuck his hand on his hip. “I mean, I lied when I said that the Sean thing didn’t bother me. It does. If me playing makes me more like my brother and that’s what turns you on, then… yeah, that’s a problem.” He stared at me.

“Just the opposite,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I didn’t compare you to Sean at all when you were playing. Just the opposite.”

There were two times when I had looked at Sam and did not think about Sean. The first was in that stairwell. The second was when he was on stage. And, I supposed, the third was right then.

Sam leaned over me. He placed his arms on either side of me on the bed. His mouth was really close to mine. “What do you mean? I don’t get it.”

“You turned me on, Sammy. Because of you. No one else,” I said quietly. It was the most honest I’d ever been with him.

“Wow.”

For a second I thought he was going to stand up and leave. But he didn’t. He kissed me. I leaned back on the bed, pulling him with me.

We kissed for a long, long time. Then Sam stood up at the end of the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, and I was shocked.

I stood up, too, and looked at him. “What are these?”

I had no idea Sam had tattoos. There were maybe a dozen of them. There was a line of individual tattoos across the top of his chest and one on the upper part of each arm in the same vertical location. I walked around him, following the circle. It continued across his back. They were relatively small, each one about the size of a golf ball. They were symbols I didn’t recognize, or drawings.

“They’re rock art,” he said, watching me.

“Like Southwestern rock art?”

“Yeah. It’s a thing my dad and I do. We travel to crazy places in the desert to check out rock art.” He shrugged.

I came back around to his front to face him. I traced one of the images on his chest with my finger. It was a squiggly circle.

“A solstice symbol?” I asked softly.

“Maybe. No one knows for sure.”

He watched me. I traced each mark on his chest with my finger, then moved down a little further and stirred his chest hair.

“You like them?”

“I do,” I whispered.

“You got any?”

I shook my head. “Thought about it. Never did it. How does a guy afraid of needles get tattoos?”

He laughed. “I was very drunk.”

He looked at me and tipped my chin up with his finger. “Are sure you don’t have any?”

“Yes,” I smiled.

“I think I better investigate for myself.”

“Okay.” I lifted up my arms and let him take my shirt off.

“See, now this is what lights are for, so I can see this for myself.”

“The door no one else has a key to and the comfy bed is a bonus, too.”

Sam reached behind me and unclasped my bra. It fell to the floor. “Lisa, you are absolutely amazing.”

“Come here,” I whispered.

15

Sam didn’t leave after what was the longest sexual session of my life. Instead, we both fell asleep, naked and tangled up on the bed. I woke up to his phone making an obnoxious sound.

Sam shut it off and pulled me back into his arms. “God, I do not want to get out of this bed,” he mumbled.

“Have to,” I said.

“You’re not going to kick me out and tell me you never want to see me again, are you?”

I was so utterly content at that moment that the thought had not even crossed my mind. Obviously, it had crossed his.

“No.” I rolled over to face him. “I think we are pretty good at this. We should keep doing it.”

“Agreed.”

“But.”

“I know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?”

“Yes. No relationship. No stalking. No strings. Right?”

That was exactly what I wanted with Sam – just the sex. “Yep.”

“Perfect,” he smiled and kissed me. “I promise to be good.”

I ran a hand down his stomach. “Sammy, you are very, very good.”

“As tempting as you are right now, Leese. I better get to my own room. Because if my big brother sees me coming out of yours, there will be hell to pay.”

I watched him get out of bed. “I suppose you’re right.”

He grabbed his boxer shorts off the floor. “Don’t suppose. It’s a fact.” He put his jeans on and then slipped into his shirt.

“It’s your own fault, you know. You came on too strong. I had to rat you out.”

He looked down at me. “I know.” He leaned over and kissed me again. “See you on the bus.”

****

The bus went a lot better than I expected. It was easy to pretend that Sam and I were just hanging out, like we always did. He even continued to antagonize me, which I didn’t mind so much anymore, partly because I knew that later, when were alone, he’d do things to make me feel really, really good.

“Leese, I think if you lose any more hands of poker you’re going to have start taking your clothes off.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Hey, guys.” Mike approached the booth, his laptop in hand. “I have the published article.”

Bell and Hank were on the couch, so Mike slid into the vacant spot next to Sam. “You wanna read it?” he asked Sean.

Sean shrugged.

I put my hand on his arm. “I’ll read it.”

Mike passed the computer across the table to me.

“Read it out loud, Lisa,” Hank said.

“Really? I don’t know. That’s kinda weird.”

“You’re a professor, Lisa. You can totally read us an article,” Bell said.

“Okay.” I leaned forward and stared at the screen. “Last week this magazine published an article claiming that the child of Sean and Baby Rush.” I looked up. “I’m sorry, but ‘Baby Rush,’ seriously? It sounds like a bad cartoon.”

Sean laughed.

“That’s what the whole world calls her, Leese,” Hank said.

“And it’s your fault,” I told him. After all, it had been Hank who had given my sister the nickname ‘Baby.’

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” Bell said.

“It’s not even remotely her name,” I argued. “Okay, forget the Baby part. Fine, I accept that 99% of the planet calls her that. But her legal name is Rushton, for crying out loud.”

“Well, that’s my fault,” Sean said.

“No, it’s mine,” Sam countered.

“Oh, yeah,” Hank said. “It is your fault, isn’t it?”

“You came up with Rush?” I asked him.

“Yep, I was sixteen and Sean was making his second album. I thought Rush sounded edgy and cool.”

“So what name was on the first record?”

“Rushton,” Sean said. “But nobody in the world has a copy of that album except Hank and my dad.”

“You’re responsible for my sister having this stupid name?” I said to Sam.

“Well, half me and half Hank, but yeah.”

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the article. “Claiming that child was actually fathered by famous rock star Hank Tolk.”

“Wait, how come you get to be ‘famous rock star’ but I don’t?” Sean said to Hank.

“Because I’m better looking than you.”

“Focus people,” Bell said. “Lisa, keep reading.”

“The reporter who wrote the article, and is no longer with this magazine, claimed to have a reliable source. However, it seems that her source may have just been a jilted lover. Now, science has finally put the whole sordid affair to rest.”

“He’s kind of dramatic,” Bell said to Mike.

“Little bit.”

I kept reading. “I met up with Hank and Sean during their current tour to address the article’s accusations. My colleague met with both Baby Rush and Hank’s current flame, Susi “Bell” O’Malley.”

“Current flame, really?” Bell complained.

Hank laughed. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad.”

“You guys are so not letting me date this guy when we get back to L.A., are you?” Mike groaned, his head in his hands.

“Hey, you’re the one who said that because of that disaster with Grey you should let me and Sean screen your boyfriends,” Hank said.

“Yeah, this guy’s an ass, Mike,” Sean agreed.

“Keep reading, Lisa,” Mike said.

“All four were shocked and incensed that an accusation would be made, or that anyone would believe it. But until now, no one had even seen a picture of Henry Rush.” I stopped reading. “Again, not his real name.” I turned back to the screen. “Oh, here he is.” I showed the computer around so they could all see Henry’s adorable little face. “It’s a good picture at least.”

Sean grunted.

“Okay, back to the story. This photo, taken at our magazine offices, clearly shows a little boy who is the spitting image of Sean Rush. But there’s more. Both Sean and Hank refused to take paternity tests out of some sort of misguided sense of principle.”

“Okay, now I really don’t like this guy,” Sean said.

“Sam Rush.” I stopped and looked up. “Oh, for crying out loud. He didn’t even get
your
name right.”

“My dad is gonna to be so pissed,” Sam said.

“Oh God. I’m going to hear about this for weeks,” Sean groaned.

“Finish it, Leese,” Bell said impatiently.

“Sam Rush, Sean’s younger brother, agreed to take the test. We now have scientific proof that Sean Rush is in fact little Henry’s father. But what really caused all this mess? Was it because Sean left his life of dating super models and actresses to marry an ordinary park ranger?”

“You know what? If one more person calls my wife ‘ordinary’ I am going to lose it. There is nothing ordinary about her.” Sean was getting pissed.

“Maybe I should stop reading.”

“No way, Lisa. We see this through to the end,” Bell said. But she was clearly getting upset, too.

“Or is it because all three of the key players have refused to address questions about their relationship? Well, I have an answer. The answer is that these people truly, deeply care for one another. They are a family, and like the rest of us, they don’t like it when people try to pry into their close-knit relationships and make accusations designed to tear them apart. So I suggest that you, me, and everyone else in the world let them live their lives without our interference.” I looked up. “And then there’s a picture of Sean and Hank playing cards and a picture of Bell and Dani drinking coffee.” I showed the screen around again.

“See, the ending was good,” Mike said.

Sean harrumphed.

“Look, they completely Photoshopped you and me out of the picture,” I said to Sam, flipping the computer around to show him.

“Oh yeah, it’s like they just made us disappear.”

“I’m okay with that,” I said.

“Whatever happened with that photographer anyway, Lisa?” Sam asked.

I stared at him.

“Leave it, Sam,” Hank said.

Sean looked at Hank, long and hard. They were doing that weird telepathy thing again.

Bell changed the subject. “So what’s the plan when we get to New York?”

****

“So since my stupid little brother set this up wrong, I switched with my understudy who does the matinees,” Stacey said. “I can come to the show tonight and you can see me tomorrow before heading to Philly.”

I’d met Stacey before, of course, but even though I knew what I was in for, it was still shocking to see her sitting there between her brothers. She had the same long black hair, the same dark brown eyes, and her chin and nose were just like Sam’s. She was slightly softer, more feminine, definitely beautiful, but still, practically a clone. She was tall, too, nearly six feet. Did their mother even factor into these genes?

“That’s gonna be tight, Stac,” Sam said.

“It’s your damn fault,” she replied.

“I can’t wait to see your play,” Sean said.

“You’ve seen a million of her plays, so have I,” Sam said.

“Shut up, Sam. I got you all front row seats,” she said to Sean. “That way you and Hank won’t have to squish into an aisle.”

“Hey, I’m almost as tall as Hank,” Sam said.

“Yeah, but I don’t care about you,” she shot back.

“So about this boyfriend,” Sean said.

Stacey sighed. “He’s doing the play tonight. But you’ll meet him tomorrow.”

“Greg, right?”

“Yes, and Sean, don’t give him a hard time.”

“Me?” he asked.

“Whatever. He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s an actor,” Sean grunted.

“So am I.”

“How old is this guy?”

Stacey sighed again. “A little older than me.”

“Dad implied he was old.”

“He’s not that old. He’s like Hank’s age.”

Sean made a face. “That’s too old.”

“Hey,” Hank said.

“I’m Stacey’s age,” Bell protested.

“That’s different,” Sean said.

Stacey rolled her eyes.

Stacey had made reservations for us at some swanky restaurant. But because there were so many of us, they sat us at a big table in the middle of the floor. As a result, every couple minutes someone walked up to the table and asked for either Hank or Sean’s autograph.

A woman approached Sean, and Stacey stood up. She shouted to the whole restaurant. “That’s it. I’ve had it. No more autographs. I am hanging out with my brothers. Leave us alone.”

Sean laughed quietly. Sam stared at her. “Damn, Stac. You sure have a big mouth.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

I understood this relationship well. They were a lot like me and Brad. Stacey and Sam antagonized each other to no end, but it was clear by looking at them that there was a deep love there, too.

Sean, on the other hand, adored Stacey. She could do no wrong in his eyes. All of her faults – her poor choices in men, her potty mouth, her attitude – they were overlooked.

“So about Greg, tell me more. Has he ever been married?”

Stacey rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m even letting you meet him, Sean. You’re going to hate him no matter what.”

“That’s not necessarily true.”

“Name one guy I’ve dated that you liked, ever.”

“Gene was alright.”

“Sean, Gene was gay. I was his beard.”

Mike laughed. “I should have seen that coming.”

“Although, you’ve never actually hit any of my boyfriends.” She turned to look at Sam. “Like some people.”

Sam shrugged. I was intrigued now.

“Which one did you hit?” Sean asked. “And how come I don’t know about this?”

“Because you never met the guy, and I’m guessing Sam never told you. I didn’t tell you, because you probably would have gone out and found him so you could hit him, too.”

Sean looked evil now. “What did he do?”

Stacey shrugged. “I don’t even know. Sam wouldn’t tell me.”

“Sam, I think we need to hear this story,” Hank said.

Sam was silent.

“It was last year,” Stacey said. “Sam was up visiting me. And I left him alone with Hal.”

“Hal? Seriously?”

“Don’t get caught up on it, Hank. Anyway. I went out to get some groceries and I left them alone at my apartment. When I came back, Sam was standing over Hal – who was bleeding, by the way – screaming at him. So I get Hal up and try to calm everybody down, but he takes off, scared out of his mind.”

“I only punched him once,” Sam said. “I can’t help it if he’s a wuss.”

“What did he do?” Sean asked again.

Sam was quiet.

“Sam wouldn’t tell me. The punk was as tight-lipped as you about it.” She turned to Sam and folded her arms across her chest. It made her look even more like her brothers. “But I think it’s time you came clean, Sam.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Hal wouldn’t talk to me after that. And I’ve pieced together that he was probably cheating and you figured it out.”