Blackbird Knitting in a Bunny's Lair (23 page)

“Wait until I tell Jeremy—he’ll be so excited. This is the fifth venue he’s tried—to have a band just walk into his lap like this, it’ll be a blessing.”

“Why didn’t he try the library?” Eli asked ingenuously. “They were just complaining that their galleria hasn’t been booked up nearly enough—they’ve got us going in to play for a poetry night in sheer desperation.”

All thoughts of ex-almost-boyfriends blew straight out of Aiden’s head. “Goddammit,” he exploded. “First the fucking Elks lodge and now the goddamned library. That man still can’t
move
right from paying for his sins. Is the whole town going to hold his past against him?”

He stopped, breathing hard in his rage, and realized that Eli and Eileen were staring at him in shock.

“The library…?” Eli asked, and he resembled a puppy less now than he resembled a full-grown bullmastiff.

“And the Elks lodge?” Eileen held her hand up to her mouth.

“Aw, man!” Eli muttered. “That’s awful. We will not play for those people if they can’t be good to your man.” He turned to his bandmates, four guys Aiden knew from high school. If he hadn’t heard them play, he wouldn’t believe they didn’t suck. “Hey, Murphy!”

“Yeah, E?” Scott Murphy was five feet three inches of trumpet-soloing energy. He kept the band from being pure rock and roll and added a fine edge of class to the whole ensemble.

“You need to call that woman down at the library—what was her name, Alberta?”

“Selma,” Murphy said, nodding. “Alberta’s her sister.”

“Tell her they lied to my friend here and we’re not gonna play for them.”

Murphy grimaced. “Goddammit, Eli, we
need
that gig—”

Eli shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice rough. “We need to be square with people more.”

Aiden met his merry blue eyes and realized that this, in some way, was an apology for the bleacher thing.

Hell. It was hard to maintain an attitude of contempt when someone was going out of his way to fight in your army.

Aiden ducked his head in acknowledgment. “’Preciate it,” he said soberly, and at that moment, Jeremy saved his life by damned near skipping out of the manager’s office, 350 pounds of Junior at his heels.

“Boy—I mean
Aiden
!” Jeremy crowed, ignoring Eileen and Eli to hustle up to him, crinkling some folded papers in his hand and grinning in triumph. “We got ourselves a venue! He says Saturday, April 28, we can have the place. Ten percent of their profits for food and drink will go
straight
into Ari’s pocket. We already got the bank account for it, so we’ll have Craw set up the money, ’cause it’s goin’
straight
to the bank.”

“That was smart thinking—helps with taxes and stuff,” Junior said. He was a big man, and not just around his beer middle. He had thinning hair, a few missing teeth, and a business that thrived in spite of the crash. Nobody crossed Junior, but nobody wanted to. Who wanted to cross the guy who sold hope and a listening ear to anyone who could pay for a drink (and a few people who couldn’t)?

“I’ll tell Craw,” Aiden said, nodding thanks. “Ben can help him set it up for us—he’s been doing most of the accounts as it is.”

Junior nodded back and cast a speculative—if kind—look at Jeremy. “So this is the whole ranch getting involved? That’s good to see. Ariadne and Rory are good people. We’d love to help ’em out.”

Jeremy grinned at him, and Aiden almost couldn’t breathe for the thick layer of triumph wrapped around him like a blanket. Maybe starting him with a nice family hadn’t been the way to do it, he mused. Maybe Jeremy had needed to start one step up from a dive bar and work up from there.

“We surely appreciate it,” Jeremy said, shaking Junior’s hand. “I will get you the specifics closer to the date. Right now we’ve got some good stuff to raffle—car work, hardware store certificates, lumber—”

“Not just yarn?” Eli asked, and the humor crackling his voice made Aiden bristle. Even in high school, Eli had thought the yarn thing was funny.

Jeremy shook his head and cast that cocky grin at the handsome young rock star Aiden might have loved. “No, sir. Although I do believe yarn is the secret to 80 percent of life, I’m thinking that maybe the other 20 percent is facilitated by things like a snug home and a working car.”

Eli nodded appreciatively, and Jeremy went on, seemingly oblivious to any undertones. “Anyway, so we’ve got the place—he says we can have the early afternoon to come in and decorate, and I’ve got all the details written down here. Next stop, your parents’ house, you think?”

“I think that’s a plan.” Aiden agreed. Jeremy didn’t look tired in the least, and he was on a roll.

Jeremy
really
noticed Eli then, which was too bad because Aiden had gotten really optimistic about the day in general. “Or… are you going to introduce me to your friends?” he asked uncertainly, and Aiden realized he had to practice some social skills or this could be a bad moment indeed.

“Jer, this is Eli and Murphy—they’re kids I knew in high school. They want to play for Ariadne’s benefit, right?”

It was like sunrise, the expression on Jeremy’s face. Pure sunshine, unpolluted by the day. “Live music?” he said excitedly. “Really?” He paused for a moment, the obvious dawning on him a moment late. “You guys are good, right?”

They were. It was one of those things that had made Eli seem so damned sexy.

“They’re great, Jer. Remember? We talked about this. They’ve been playing in Fort Collins for the past year—they’re sort of a college-town staple.”

“You kept track,” Eli said, and Aiden heard a warmth in his voice that made him look up sharply.

“My sister’s had a crush on Murphy for a dog’s age,” he said, eyes hard, and nope, wasn’t his imagination. Eli flushed and his face fell—but that didn’t stop him from turning to Jeremy with a truly kind smile on his face.

“So now that Aiden’s vouched for us, do you want us to play?”

And the sun rose again. “Oh yes.” He turned to Aiden, eyes widening with excitement. “That sure was lucky you ran into ’em—we need to have your sister write that article right away. Can you design the fliers, though?” Jeremy’s eyebrows puckered with such an amazing show of faith, Aiden was almost alarmed. “I trust your eye more’n hers, no offense.”

“None taken,” he said, smiling into Jeremy’s warm brown eyes. For a moment all that mattered was that he’d made Jeremy happy—it didn’t even matter what he’d promised to do.

Aiden heard the clearing of throats next to him, and he turned toward Eli with an outstretched hand. “It’s a deal, then. You heard the man—April 28. Jer, get his number, you can call him with details.”

Jeremy pulled out his phone—the plain disposable kind, which was all Jeremy had ever wanted to buy because some habits died hard—and they exchanged numbers quickly. When they were done, Aiden looped an arm over Jeremy’s shoulders and steered him toward the exit.

“Jer’ll be in touch, ’kay?” He turned his body slightly and shook Eli’s hand, his own grip firm and no bullshit.

“Yeah,” Eli said. “Take care of him, A.”

Aiden grimaced. God. No one had called him that since Eli whispered it in his ear in high school.
Meet me behind the bleachers, A. Let’s see what we can do.

“Aiden,” he said, no bullshit in his voice either. “Friends call me Aiden.”

And then he steered Jeremy out of the bar.

A
IDEN
KNEW
Jeremy wasn’t stupid. Aiden had already
told
him about the lead singer of the band, and nobody could have missed the way Eli had hoped, just hoped, that Aiden had kept up with him, just a little. So Jeremy kept his brain focused on what they were doing, but no. Aiden expected to have to answer that question later.

First things first. Maybe it was the informality—this wasn’t Sunday dinner, Jeremy wasn’t expected to put on manners, and he got to play with the puppy while he talked to Elaine and outlined what he needed—but Jeremy didn’t seem nearly as nervous to be back in the Rhodeses’ kitchen.

Aiden figured that part of the comfort was definitely the smell. Aiden’s mom was making brown sugar beans in a Crock-Pot on the counter. Sweet and savory seeped through their clothes, and the comfort would have soothed anyone—even Craw.

The puppy sat docilely on Jeremy’s lap in the beginning. Aiden wasn’t sure that was such a good idea since the thing had paws that were growing exponentially. He had visions of a dog the size of a donkey knocking Jeremy out of his shoes, and took the puppy out of his arms while Jeremy was still talking.

“She was happy there,” Jeremy complained.

Aiden shook his head. “She’s gonna be hufuckinmongous. Get used to her at your feet.”

Jeremy sighed, but the as-of-yet unnamed puppy was perfectly happy to sit and lick his fingers and take the occasional scritch on the head, which worked better because now Jeremy didn’t have to write over her head to put stuff down for Elaine.

For her part, Elaine took this assignment like a real grown-up. She wrote down all the information, double-checked the facts, and told Jeremy she’d have the article in two days.

Then she added one more thing onto Jeremy’s platter.

“The thing is,” she said apologetically, “that you need to talk to the editor of the local paper. I talked to my journalism teacher, and she gave me her number. Usually it costs $150 to take out a half-page advertisement, and if you want to put in Aiden’s flier plus the article, that’s about what it will be. The paper will do it for free if it’s for a good cause—but you need to be able to prove it’s for a good cause.”

Jeremy nodded and then asked to borrow a piece of her binder paper.

“’Kay, Aiden,” he said with determination. “Stop playing with the dog, get up here, and help me out. I wasn’t good at the long con, and this one’s getting a little bit complicated for me.”

Aiden got up next to him, and together in his parents’ kitchen, they made a list of the things Jeremy needed to do and the things he needed other people to do. Aiden looked at the list and made an unhappy noise.

“But Jer, the only thing I’m down for here is designing the flier!” He felt a little left out, actually.

Jeremy turned to look at Aiden full-on. “You’re working full time,” he said seriously. “You’re working beyond full time, helping Craw catch up from when nobody was working. And besides, the closer this thing gets, the more I’ll need you for random shit. Hauling stuff, decorating the pub—don’t worry,
A
,” he added with a dry twist to his mouth, “you’ll be too busy to get in any trouble.”

Aiden grunted and pretended his face wasn’t trying to heat. “Kiss one guy in high school and you pay for it, is that what you’re saying?” He’d owned it already, but now it felt more personal.

Jeremy’s mouth pulled up thoughtfully at the corner. “No,” he said quietly, and like it did sometimes, but only with Aiden, some of the “aw, shucks” drawl fell from his voice. “No. You were nice to Gi—Johnny when you saw him, so I can be nice to a guy who looks like an unshaved alpaca.”

Aiden snickered then, charmed. “That’s a deal,” he said, his voice low as well.

Elaine was busy writing stuff down, and Aiden took advantage of her inattention and leaned into Jeremy’s space so he could speak softly in his ear.

“It was a kiss beneath the bleachers,” he said, remembering Jeremy’s pithy words about Gianni being a blowjob and a kiss. “And then he went to homecoming with someone else, and I didn’t talk to him again.”

“Until now,” Jeremy said evenly, and Aiden nodded.

“Until he offered to help my boyfriend with a project dear to his heart.”

Jeremy thought about it for a moment, and neither of them said the obvious, about how he’d been beaten hiding Gianni’s boyfriend from the mafia.

“That’s real nice of both of you,” Jeremy said, nodding after a moment, and the expression he turned toward Aiden made him want to squirm in his seat like a praised schoolboy. “My boyfriend’s got a really big heart.”

Aiden swallowed. “So does mine.” He kissed Jeremy right behind the ear and smiled evilly when Jeremy squirmed. Then, conscious that they were in his parents’ kitchen, he pulled away.

His mom arrived home a few minutes later, the younger kids in tow. They were all wearing karate uniforms, and Aiden thanked God he’d gotten a job at Craw’s mill before his parents had discovered the joys of after-school activities. He’d played soccer in middle school, kept his trophies in a box, and got his exercise running or on his job after that. Something solitary and alone made him happy—unless Jeremy was there with him, which made him happier.

“Hey, Aiden. Hey, Jeremy!”

Jeremy was immersed in his list by now, making other lists underneath each thing—Aiden assumed as some sort of organizational tool. Jeremy looked up and smiled earnestly, but with an air of distraction that maybe took some of the awkwardness away.

“Heya, Mrs. Rhodes. You look busy—if you need to, we can get out of your hair—”

“No!” she said, a little too forcefully, but thankfully Jeremy didn’t seem to notice. “You go ahead and keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll just draft Aiden here to help me with dinner, and you boys can stay and eat.”

Aiden met his mother’s eyes, in the beginnings of panic, but she darted a look at Jeremy. Jeremy had tapped Elaine on the shoulder and was saying something about giving a nod to the sponsors and maybe delaying a week so they could drum up some more of them, and he thank God appeared much too busy to freak out about being in Aiden’s parents’ kitchen.

“Yeah, Mom,” Aiden said, his voice just loud enough for Jeremy to hear over the chaos of kids yelling in the background. “Let me text Craw and tell him to look after the stock.”

Jeremy glanced up and nodded, and his eyes made one nervous dart around the kitchen. For a moment Aiden thought he was going to call the whole thing off, but Elaine got his attention, and he went back to work.

Eventually they had Jeremy and Elaine clear and set the table, and even as they stopped working, their conversation was animated and intense—and not forced. When Aiden’s dad came in and washed up, Elaine started talking about the benefit and didn’t stop—not even to shush the little kids asking questions—until it was time to clean up for dessert.