Chapter 23

23

O tis's pulse pounced through his body, and he growled, "If someone doesn't say somethin', I'm going to start punching things." He zeroed in on Tex, who would do the talking. "You're closest, brother."

Tex's face split into a grin, and he threw both hands into the air. "They're going to let us record in Wyoming!"

The lobby erupted with cowboy cheering, Otis's voice right there with his brothers'. He grabbed onto Tex without fists and hugged him as he said, "Yes! Good job, Tex!"

Luke was definitely the loudest of them all, and he always went on just a bit too long. He'd thrown his cowboy hat up into the air as he whistled through his teeth, then grabbed onto Morris—his nearest victim. Morris laughed, and it did Otis's heart and soul good to see his youngest brother there with them. He communicated with Gabe, but the other twin still wouldn't talk to anyone but Morris and Mav.

Otis tried; he knew Tex tried. Even Trace had reached out. A lot of hurt existed there, and only Gabe could wade through it all.

He stepped away from Tex and said, "I'm gonna call Lauren and let her know." He strode away from the cowboy crowd just as a sharp-dressed man came out from behind the podium. Oh, his brothers were in troub-ble , but Otis couldn't stop smiling.

He hadn't realized just how badly he wanted to be in Wyoming for the recording until he'd come to Nashville last week to start playing through the songs for the production team at the label.

He hated being here by himself, and at first, he'd reasoned that he wouldn't be. His brothers would be here, and they'd stay in adjoining rooms like they'd always done, and they'd record. He loved making the music he'd written with the band, and he couldn't imagine his life without it.

At the same time, Lauren wasn't well. A whole new kind of worry dove through Otis as he waited for his ex-wife to pick up her phone. She didn't, and Otis hung up without bothering to leave a message. She'd see he called and give him a ring back when she could.

He quickly checked the clock, and it wasn't too early in Dog Valley, where she lived with their daughter Joey. Otis called his daughter, because school hadn't started yet, and she should be able to answer.

Lauren hated that Joey had a phone, but Otis had insisted. He paid for it to text and call and nothing else, because his girl was only seven years old. He wanted to be able to communicate with her while he was on the road, and he and Joey had agreed to keep the phone out of Lauren's sight as much as possible.

"Daddy, hello," Joey said, her voice so cute and so full of chirpy happiness.

"Heya, baby," he said, his smile as genuine as it ever had been. "Where's Mama?"

"She's sleepin'," Joey said, and alarm rang through Otis. He needed to be near Dog Valley, and he'd already been looking at houses there.

"Has she been up today yet?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light and airy.

"Yeah," Joey said. "She made scrambled eggs and we ate ‘em with lots of syrup." She giggled, and that made Otis's whole world brighter. "Then she said she had a headache and had to go lay down."

"Okay," Otis said. "Listen, Kangaroo, I called her, and I'm sure she'll call me back, but I wanted you to know that we got approval to record our next album in Coral Canyon!"

"That's great, Daddy-Bear," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. He'd enjoyed seeing her more this summer—he usually had her all summer long—and a voice whispered in his head that he better get ready to be a full-time dad in the very near future.

He swallowed and pushed the thoughts of Lauren's as-yet-undiagnosed condition from his mind. He couldn't deal with what-ifs. He dealt with facts and data, and until she had those to present to him, he wasn't going to wallow in worry.

"If Mama's asleep," he said. "What are you doin'?"

"Grammy Echo came to get me," she said. "I'm at her house, and we're makin' sourdough bread."

"Wow," Otis said, a flash of love for Lauren's mother filling him. "You be sure to tell her thank you like, a hundred times."

Joey giggled, and Otis leaned against the wall in the hall, wishing he was already home. "Daddy has a few more meetings this week, and then I'll be back, okay? You'll come stay with me for a bit while Mama gets better."

"Can I, Daddy?"

"Yep," he said, glad his little girl didn't think he was a horrible father. He beat himself up for that day in and day out, and perhaps Trace and Luke had picked up on some unspoken cues about how Otis felt about continuing with the band. "All right, Roo. I have to go, but you give Grammy a kiss from me, and tell Mama I'll be home soon."

"Bye, Daddy."

He said, "I love you, Joelle."

"Love you too."

He ended the call and sighed as he heard Luke's voice heading his way. He pushed away from the wall as his brothers rounded the corner, both Morris and Mav on their phones too. Tex spoke with pure joy and animation in his face, and Bryce responded in kind.

"Hey," Otis said, moving into step with them. "How did your demos go?" He watched Bryce, because the boy wanted a career in music. Otis couldn't fault him for that. Bryce had serious talent, in multiple areas of the industry. He could write music and songs. He could play the guitar. He sang better than Tex, though Otis would never tell his brother that.

Bryce got brighter, if that was possible. "So great, Uncle Otis. Meryl loved When a Girl Kisses You ."

Otis grinned at his nephew. "I told you that was the one."

"Meryl liked our duets too," Bryce said. "He said I need an agent." He shone like the sun, and Otis slung his arm around his nephew.

"You're so talented, Bryce."

"Don't get his hopes up," Tex said as the elevator dinged.

"Why not?" Otis said. "He can help us record some of our songs and be on this album."

"The boy will have school," Tex said, marching onto the elevator. "He won't be hanging out with us in the recording studio." Otis exchanged a look with Bryce, who hadn't dimmed at all.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Don't worry, Uncle Otis. I know how to handle my dad." Then he got on the elevator too, his joy still at a mega-wattage level. Otis wished he still had that innocence of youth, and he stole some of it from his nephew as he joined the crew on the elevator.

"When we meet with them tomorrow, I need Luke to handle the equipment list." Tex looked at Luke, who nodded.

"You got it, Tex," he said.

"Morris, you're going to get all the details about who they're sending and what accommodations they'll need."

"Yep," Morris said, glancing at Mav, who gave him a single nod of reassurance.

"Trace, I'm going to need you to keep Meryl's daughter happy."

"Excuse me?" Trace looked like he'd swallowed a whole bushel of lemons.

"She's apparently in the office," Mav said. "And driving Meryl mad."

"So I have to miss the meeting to entertain her?"

"You hate the meetings," Tex said. "She has a couple of albums out too, and I'd call her a…B-list celebrity."

"C-list," Mav coughed, and Trace's frown deepened. He didn't confirm or deny that he'd accept and carry out his assignment, but Otis suspected he would.

"Otis," Tex said.

"I know," Otis said. "Get the songs approved as quickly as possible. I've been working on it."

The elevator dinged, but Tex said, "Hit the panic button, Mav."

Mav did without question, and everyone faced Tex. He swallowed once and said, "I really appreciate all of the support on this recording-studio-in-a-barn idea. I mean it." He opened his arms wide and settled them around Bryce and then Morris.

That continued until the seven of them were a connected circle, and Otis finally felt a true sense of calmness enter his life. Family. Family was what mattered most, and he needed to make sure he focused his attention in that direction from now on.

A week later, Otis pulled up to the small-town bookshop in Coral Canyon, Beck's Books. It hadn't existed when he was a child, and his parents didn't have money to buy extraneous entertainment like books. Mama had taken the boys to the library to instill in them a love of reading.

Otis wasn't that son, not the way Trace was, but he'd checked out plenty of guitar manuals, and he'd learned to play from the music books he'd gotten at the library. His family didn't have money for lessons either, and Otis had paid for his own once he'd turned twelve and could work to earn the money.

He'd mowed lawns all over town to get the money he needed for guitar lessons, and he'd completed plenty of chores around the family ranch too.

"Are we goin' in, Daddy?"

He swung his attention to Joey, who'd unbuckled her seatbelt and had her door open. She peered at him with her pretty brown eyes, framed by her long lashes and her cute, pink pair of glasses.

"Yes," he said. "Come on, Roo. Let's go see if they've got the new Blueberry Girls book."

She giggled as she dropped to the ground from his truck, and he smiled to himself as he got out too. "It's Strawberry Shortcake, Daddy."

"Is it?" He opened the door for his daughter, and she went into the shop first. The place smelled like lemons and flowers, and Otis could admit it held a certain charm that women and girls obviously liked.

He could appreciate a well-run shop, cleanliness, and good management, and a woman nodded at him while she continued to help another customer. Joey went straight to the kids area, and Otis wandered toward the part of the bookshop which didn't boast books at all. Bookmarks, book-related baubles, and brightly colored T-shirts took up the wall next to a hallway that went toward an office.

He browsed there, not really looking at anything, until his attention got alerted to another voice coming from down the hall.

"…no," the woman said. "We're not together, CJ. Don't you dare come in here and disrupt my shop again."

Otis could tell a damsel in distress when he heard one, and he peered further down the hall. More shadows existed down there, so he took a step in the direction of the natural light spilling out of an open doorway, which was probably an office.

"Too late?" the woman screeched, and she burst out of the office a moment later. Her eyes met Otis's, and he froze. She did not. "I'm hanging up, and I better not see you in here." The phone lowered, and she moved toward him. "You, get in here."

"Me?" he asked, but she'd already turned around and started back to her office, her curls bouncing with her angry movement.

"Come on," she said, and Otis obeyed.

He filled the office doorway and took in the disarray here that stood in direct contradiction to the organization in the front of the shop. The brunette with the pretty curls turned and faced him, a sigh falling from her mouth.

"My ex-boyfriend doesn't get the message," she said. "I've broken up with him."

"All right," Otis said, more confused than ever about what he was doing there.

"Georgia," a man said, and Otis flinched away from it, moving further into the office as another man came down the hall.

"Kiss me," Georgia hissed, panic in her face and prevalent in her voice now.

"What?" Otis asked, his adrenaline spiking for the second time in as many seconds.

"You're my boyfriend, and I need you to kiss me," she said. "Now." She stepped into him, grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, and kissed him.

Otis stood as still as a statue while his brain caught up to the situation. Then he tasted raspberries and chocolate, and his body remembered how to hold a woman and kiss her. His hands slid around her waist, and his lips stroked hers as if they really had been dating for a couple of months and he simply couldn't wait for her to get off work before he kissed her again.

"Georgia," a man said, and Otis started to pull away. Georgia's fingers in his collar tightened, and Otis went back to kissing her, wondering how long she was going to make her ex stand there and watch.