“You will not,” Channing snaps.
Turning my head, looking over my shoulder, my gaze shifts to Channing and I swear my heart aches at the sight of her holding Ford’s baby.
I didn’t know that it would hurt like this, seeing it with my own eyes is downright fucking painful. I have been avoiding this exact moment for years, and here I am, thrust into the middle of it all.
“Ford, don’t be rude. I met Stephanie at the grocery store and invited her to hang out with us. She’s only in town for a while and she just didn’t look like she should be alone.”
Ford grunts, taking a step back. “Fine, whatever.”
I watch as he lifts his hand, waving it behind him as he turns around and heads toward the water. He walks past the little boy that was in Channing’s store cart, taking his hand, then picks up fishing poles and a tackle box before they walk toward the water’s edge.
Oh. My. God.
He’s taking his son fishing. It’s the most breathtaking sight I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what’s more precious, him holding the small toddler girl, or him fishing with the little boy. My eyes water at the sight, I can’t hold it in, not even if I tried.
“Oh shit,” a voice hisses. “You’re Sterling LaRue, aren’t you?”
“No, her name is Stephanie,” Channing says, sounding really confused.
“Yeah, legally her name is Stephanie LaRue, but her stage name is Sterling,” the same voice says, clearing the air and telling my truth.
“Most of us know her as Stevie,” another man’s voice says, a really fucking familiar man.
Shifting my gaze to his, I turn my body around and my eyes widen at the sight of Beaumont Griffin and Wyatt Johnson. Then another man walks up behind them, and my breath hitches at the sight of Wyatt’s cousin, Rylan. He looks the same as he did almost twenty years ago, but also completely different. Almost every inch of his exposed limbs, including his neck, is covered in tattoos and they look phenomenal on him.
“Hey guys,” I say, lifting my hand to give them a wave.
“Fuck,” Wyatt rumbles.
“That’s about the long and short of it,” Beaumont snaps.
The women are looking at me with complete confusion, but Wyatt and Beaumont are straight-up glaring at me, then their expressions soften and they both shake their heads. Beau is the first to take a step toward me. He bends slightly and wraps his arms around me, bringing me in for a small hug.
“Good to see you again, darlin’, especially without an entourage.” He chuckles.
I could say the same about him. It seems as though he always has his bandmates near him, anytime I’ve been anywhere around. Beaumont’s band is hugely famous, he’s hugely famous.
When he started to rise to the top, I couldn’t help but not only be in awe of him, but also a bit jealous. He did it without abandoning his roots the way that I did.
There were so many times that I wanted to get in touch with him and ask how Ford was doing, but if I talked about him, talked about Gallup, then I knew that I would miss it. Ignoring my old life, that was the only way to cope. At least that’s what I thought, I’m not so sure now.
“They’re all back in LA. I came to town to clear out my parents’ place before I put it on the market,” I whisper.
He straightens, then I watch as he slides his arm over the shoulders of a beautiful girl, holding an equally handsome little baby. I remember reading about his wedding, then about the birth of the guitar legends first son.
“He’s beautiful,” I mumble.
“Thanks,” the woman says. “I’m Hutton, by the way.” She grins, extending her hand.
“Sterling,” I mutter.
Beau snorts. “You ain’t Sterling here. You’re Stevie.”
“Am I?” I ask.
Beau shrugs his shoulder. “Up to you, darlin’, but that’s who you’ll always be to us.”
“You all don’t hate me for what I did?” I ask, shifting my gaze to Wyatt who has his arms crossed over his chest and is glaring at me.
“Hate?” Wyatt asks. Nodding, I lick my lips before I roll them together. “It’s been a long time,” he says.
“It has,” I breathe.
“Disappointed, sad, and maybe a little confused, but nobody hates you, Stevie. Never did,” he says.
Flicking my gaze from them to Ford’s back, I shake my head. “He does,” I whisper.
Wyatt lets out a boom of laughter. I swing my head back to him, my eyes following as I watch him. He’s looking down at his feet, his shoulder’s shaking as he laughs.
“Stevie, if there’s one thing Ford doesn’t feel for you, it’s hate.”
“He seems pretty mad,” I exhale.
Wyatt lifts his eyes to meet my own. “Shocked, he’s shocked. But he don’t hate you,” he mutters.
“Okay, now that that’s done, can we maybe all go back to having a good time?” Channing asks.
The men all chuckle, then slowly, one by one, they peel off and head over to the grill. I watch them go before I turn toward the group of women. So far, I know Channing and Hutton, but none of the others staring back at me.
There’s a moment of silence as they watch me, sizing me up, then Channing smiles. “Okay, this is Stephanie, or Stevie, or Sterling, what do you prefer to be called?” she asks.
I think about her question, then I decide that the guys are going to call me whatever the hell they want, but I don’t feel like Stevie anymore, even if that’s what they call me.
“Stephanie, please,” I say.
“Stephanie it is,” she says with a nod.
I’m then introduced to a petite pregnant woman named Tulip and a curvy woman holding a little girl named Exeter. I don’t know who is married to who, but they’re all absolutely gorgeous. There is one man standing amongst the others that I don’t know, although he looks familiar.
“That’s my husband, Louis,” Tulip says, answering my unasked question.
“Oh,” I say, my brows snapping together as I try to figure out how I know him.
“He’s a boxer,” she offers.
Shifting my gaze to hers, my eyes widen. “That’s Louis Kingston, isn’t it?”
Tulip nods. “That’s him, in the flesh.”
“Wow, I went to his last fight in Vegas, it was amazing.”
Something unreadable crosses her face and a smile twitches on her lips. “It was really amazing. It was the first time I’d seen him fight.”
The women and I spend a few hours chatting amongst ourselves, I keep waiting for Channing to show me just how much she hates me for leaving Ford at the altar, but she doesn’t. In fact, she’s the nicest of all the women.
I just don’t understand it, if it were me and my husband’s ex-fiancée was standing in front of me, I’d hate her. I can’t deny that I feel a pang of jealousy when I look at her and her children with him, myself.
FORD
Fuck.
Stevie is here, right here, and I can’t even bear to look at her. Reese and his love of fishing has saved me from being forced to be around the one woman I loved and lost. Inhaling a deep breath, I cast my line, then help Reese do the same.