All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3) (22 page)

“No, thanks. I’m good. My name’s Lauren. It’s nice to meet you.” There was barely a tremble in my voice, despite my nerves. I was immensely proud of that.

Jared Shaw was the last to speak. His light brown hair and vivid green eyes made him look somehow less intimidating than the rest of the group, like he was the boy next door type versus their felon next door vibe. He met my eye from a few feet away as he lingered close to the patio door and leaned against the cold brick, half a sandwich in his hand. No beer, though. Just bottled water, which only underscored my initial impression. “I’m Jared.” He gave me the ‘what’s up’ head tilt and returned his attention to his sandwich without waiting for my reply.

He was notoriously shy, according to the articles I’d read.

Once the introductions were over, the guys chatted amongst themselves for a few minutes, catching up. I just listened for the most part, content to be a spectator.

While quietly taking a visual inventory of the six men standing around the patio, I was struck by how gorgeous they all were. All in different ways, of course, but still heart-stoppingly, panty-meltingly, jaw-on-the-floor gorgeous. Seriously, these guys could fill a spank bank the size of the Federal Reserve.

Yet my stomach only did that little flip for Brant.

“Lauren?” Brant’s voice was low, concerned. I must have zoned out.

I blinked a few times, glancing at the rest of the guys, all of whom seemed to be lost in conversation. “Yeah?”

“Want anything from the kitchen? I’m heading that way.”

Seeing as how the band was talking shop, planning out their trip and things they wanted to do between shows, I decided it was a good idea to leave them to it for a while. I gave Brant a nod and tossed back the blanket, instantly shivering at the blast of cold air against my skin. He offered a hand to help me up and I took it, knowing it was easier to let him help than convince him that I was capable of doing things on my own.

On the way past, Lennox shot a hand out and stopped me. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being an ass before. I really didn’t mean any offense. The guys call me a blurter; no filter, no forethought…”

“No brains.” Ethan deadpanned. “That’s why we put him on bass.”

Lennox flipped him the bird, eyes never leaving mine. “If I promise to work on engaging my filter, will you go back to being a fan of the
whole
band?” Something about his expression told me he really did care that he might have upset me. There was a wounded quality in his eyes, like the idea of me having a poor opinion of him would keep him awake at night. Like what I thought mattered.

How could I stay mad at him after that?

I gave his arm a quick pat. “I wasn’t mad. It takes a lot more than that to get me upset, trust me. A few words won’t ever send me running. I was just giving you hell on behalf of all women for thinking that any female you might find here must only be interested in screwing.” I moved past him, closing in on the open patio doors before turning back. “I’m still a fan of yours, by the way. I think you’re phenomenally talented. Maybe after I grab some tea, we can talk music?”

He smiled, looking relieved. “Absolutely.”

•••

“See? I told you there was nothing to be nervous about. They love you.” Brant moved around the kitchen, filling the shiny chrome tea kettle and placing it on the massive six-burner cooktop. He’d refused to let me do anything, relegating me to a bar chair at the overhanging counter of the enormous center island. The cool marble felt good on my arms as I stretched them across the broad expanse.

“Clearly. I got not one but
two
proposals.” I chuckled when Brant frowned at that.

“Yeah, I remember.” He groused.

“Those two are really something. I think it’s nice that they are so close.”

He tilted his head, watching me. “Yeah. I always wanted a brother growing up. Someone to go on adventures with and get into trouble with. Know what I mean?”

I nodded, watching him pull an expensive-looking tea box from the cupboard. He placed it between my outstretched arms and leaned back against the counter while I perused the contents. Lemon Zinger, Chamomile, Sleepy Time, Earl Grey… there were at least two dozen flavors all neatly separated in the little compartments. I chose one at random and closed the box, which Brant immediately retrieved and set aside.

“You have Clay and Spencer for that now, though,” I offered, smiling when I realized how similar their banter was to that of Kade and Kane.

“Pains in my ass, both of them, but you’re right. They are my family now, for better or worse.”

Family.

There was a pang in my chest, the hollow feeling that overcame me every time I thought of Teach. Then I thought about Isaac and the sickeningly satisfying sound of the utility knife tearing through his flesh. God, how could I sit out there with rock royalty and act like I wasn’t completely fucked in the head? How could they not see it when they looked at me? I barely suppressed a shudder as I thought about it all.

I caught Brant watching me, clearly reading the shift in my emotions. I decided that Teach was the safer of the available explanations, so I shifted my focus away from Isaac as best I could and promised myself I could have a proper meltdown later, in private.

In the meantime, I needed to say something before Brant’s worried expression got any worse.

Not bothering to guard my tortured expression, I turned on the backless stool, pointing toward the media room that branched off of the kitchen. “Teach would have had a fit over this room.” I announced thickly, fighting back tears. “A huge television right in the middle of all those bookcases? He would have popped a new frown line. He liked to keep the two things mutually exclusive. Television in one room, books in another. It was his firm belief that there was nothing worse than trying to sink into a good book while someone had the nerve to turn on The Price is Right five feet away. All those cheers and bells dinging… it drove him crazy.”

Brant looked over at the built-ins, smiling. “I’ll pass your critique along to Clay. They were his doing.”

“Huh?” I blinked up at him for a minute, confusion taking priority over my anguish for a moment before it dawned on me. “Oh, shit. You guys built this place?”

He nodded. “About seven years ago, give or take. It was the year their third album dropped, whenever that was.”

“Eight years ago.” I supplied automatically.

His eyes crinkled in amusement.

I just shrugged. “Can’t call yourself a true fangirl and not know shit like that.”

“Luckily, I never claimed fangirl status.” He chuckled.

I thought back over everything I’d seen earlier when Kade showed me around. “I can’t believe you actually made all of this. This place is spectacular.”

He just smiled.

“Which parts were the most fun to work on?” There were so many cool elements in the house, stuff I’d never seen before that had blown my mind. I had to wonder which ones were Brant’s doing.

“The recording studio downstairs was fun. I added a lot of bells and whistles that even some of the bigger recording houses didn’t have at the time.” He thought for a minute. “Oh, and the vanishing TV mirrors in the bathrooms. Those were a blast.” He laughed. “I wired them up so that they were on a motion sensor and every time one of the contractors walked into a room that had one of those mirrors, it would start up and play scenes from old horror movies. Scared the shit out of a lot of people with that one.”

His laughter was contagious. I found myself picturing their reactions and cracking up right along with him.

The tea kettle started to whistle and he grabbed a pot holder, filling my cup and setting it aside to steep.

“Honestly, we have a lot of fun doing what we do. We get to be creative. We get to do something different every single day. No two houses we build are ever the same. I like that. I like having the opportunity to invent or reinvent at my discretion. It’s freeing.” He paused, noticing me watching him. “What? Did that sound sappy?”

“Not at all. I love seeing you so passionate about your work. I’m kind of envious of your talent. Not many people can do what you do.”

He shrugged off my praise. “Everyone has a passion, a calling. It just takes time to discover what it is sometimes.”

“Maybe one day I’ll find mine,” I muttered, reaching for my cup and fiddling with the tea bag.

“I have no doubt, sweetheart. And whatever it is, you’ll be incredible at it.”

“I’ve spent so much time just trying to get by that I never really thought much about anything else.”

His hand covered mine as it lay on the counter. “You’ll not only get by, baby girl, you’re gonna thrive. I promise you that.”

There was something in his tone that made me almost believe what he was saying could be true.

I reached for my mug and motioned for him to follow me back outside. He nodded and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the top and pausing a minute in hesitation, his brow furrowing. “Does it bother you when I drink?”

I frowned in confusion, eyeing his beverage. “No. Why would it?”

He kind of shrugged, trying to downplay the moment. “I just know Teach kept his house free of alcohol and I’ve never seen you drink, so…”

I couldn’t help laughing at his awkwardness. “I’m not in recovery, if that’s what you’re thinking. Teach knew I had issues with the smell of liquor—Isaac always reeked of it—so he ditched his supply before I moved in. I told him it was unnecessary but he tended to be stubborn about things like that. He said his medications didn’t mix well with it anyway so it was pointless to keep it around.” I smiled at the memory. He really was something special. “I drink beer on occasion but it’s usually during the summer when the weather is miserably hot and the beer is ice cold.”

“That’s when beer tastes best, if you ask me.” Brant smiled and held out his free hand for me to take. “I look forward to sharing a couple of frosty ones with you. Say around mid-July?”

I threaded my fingers through his and nodded. “It’s a date, Weirdo.”

•••

Two hours later, I was tucked back under the blanket on the patio, happily conversing with the band members like we were old friends. Brant sat in a chair he’d pulled up next to the couch, laughing and joking along with the guys, making the whole thing feel deeply familial.

Jared still wasn’t talking much but he’d joined the group and surprised me by asking to sit by me on the couch. Ethan had been sitting on the nearby ottoman and even he looked shocked when Jared slid onto the couch beside me. He made no comment though, just went back to chatting with Lennox, who had spent nearly an hour talking to me about music and touring, answering my every question, and winning me over with hilarious stories from the road.

Kade and Kane were standing off to the side, their heads together as one of them pointed to something on his phone and laughed. I had no idea what they were looking at but seeing both of them smile was enough to light up the room.

Brant’s hand was perched atop my folded knees, idly stroking his thumb over the blanket that covered me as he chatted back and forth with Ethan and Lennox.

After a while, Kade turned and addressed the group, his phone glowing in his hand. “Guys, the driver just texted. We have to head out in five to make our flight. All of your stuff by the front door?”

Everyone nodded, rushing to finish half-empty beers as they wrapped up their conversations.

My heart dropped at the idea of them leaving. I was genuinely enjoying their company. And not because they were rock royalty, but because they were funny and nice and smart and amazing. And they treated me like I was one of them.

I wasn’t all that accustomed to being included, so the way they brought me into the fold was leaving me incredibly sad to see them go. Maybe it was the product of being on an emotional roller coaster for several weeks, but I had to bite my lip to keep from crying.

I didn’t want them to leave.

Lennox stood and came over to crouch in front of me, patting my exposed foot and tugging the blanket down to cover it. “You’ll come see us again, right?”

I shrugged miserably, fighting tears. “I’ll try.”

He glanced at Brant. “Make it happen. I want you both back here next time we’re in town.”

“You’ve got it, Lenn,” Brant nodded, giving him a slap on the back.

“Damn right. We want to see you two when we can do it up right. Full-on party,” Ethan agreed, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

Jared stood and turned to give me a smile. “‘Til next time, Miss Lauren.” Five words and he was gone through the patio door and toward the foyer to get his things.

Kade and Kane approached us last, Kane taking Brant’s outstretched hand and snatching him to his feet before giving him a one-armed hug like guys do. “You take care of Kade’s house while he’s gone. No going into the attic to plunder through his porn collection, you hear?”

Kade slapped him on the back of the head. “Shut up, douche. I don’t buy porn. I make it.”

I looked at them both, laughter forcing out the lump in my throat. “I’m definitely coming back. You two are the best comedy duo I’ve ever seen.”

Kane leaned over and kissed the top of my head, ruffling my hair afterward until I had to swat him away. “Quit that before I get Kade to toss you out of here for annoying his favorite house guest.”

Kade glared at him, folding his arms over his massive chest and unleashing that menacing stare he was famous for. “You heard the lady, fuckstain. Get the hell out.”

Brant and I laughed as Kane and Kade fell into fighting stances, circling each other with narrowed eyes.

“Fellas, fellas. I hate to break up a good fight but isn’t the car waiting out front?”

They eyed each other warily and straightened to their full height. Kane smirked at Kade and blew me a kiss before disappearing into the house.

Kade came over and shook Brant’s hand, telling him to call if there was anything he needed.

When he turned his attention to me, his smile was tentative. “If I promise not to squeeze too tight, can I give you a hug?”