Palm Springs King by Claire Marti

Author:Claire Marti [Marti, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Claire Marti

Chapter 13

Austin reclined against the mound of pillows on his King sized bed and cradled his beloved guitar. After finishing up reams of really fucking boring paperwork, he needed time to refuel.

Since he’d quit the band, it hurt too much to play Black Velvet Machine’s songs––mostly written by him and Tommy. Instead, he’d play some of his favorite musicians’ songs. Some Chris Cornell, some Eddie Vedder, some Killers, some classics like Led Zeppelin.

Once or twice, he’d picked up a notebook and attempted to spark a new song. Anything at all. But his well was dry––he hadn’t written a single lyric or crafted a solitary melody since Tommy’s death. Maybe he never would again. Writer’s block was real.

A knock sounded at the door and jolted him out of his brooding. He set his guitar down and strolled over. When he opened it, his mind sputtered and blanked.

Kenzie’s strawberry-blond hair was slicked back into a ponytail leaving her lovely face bare. Her lithe figure was encased in yoga pants and a tank top. He shoved his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t grab her and toss her over his shoulder, fireman style.

“Hey.” Yeah, that’s all he had. Hadn’t she gotten the memo to avoid him?

She cleared her throat and gave a small smile. “I’m sorry to bug you again but any way I can borrow your car? I need to pick up some groceries.”

Her husky voice slammed into him like a punch to the gut. “Do you want me to drive you?”

“Oh no, you’ve already done enough. And I have a process at the store. You might find it annoying.” Her lips twitched.

And just like that, the tension tightening his shoulders relaxed. “Let me guess, you’ve got an excel spreadsheet for your grocery list?”

“Ha ha. Not a spreadsheet. But I may or may not have it divided by type of food.” A flush of pink stained her high cheekbones.

He chuckled––could she be any cuter? “Of course you do. More efficient to hit those aisles in order. You crack me up.”

She shrugged one shoulder, and her smile grew sheepish. “At least I’m up front about my geekiness. I’m happy to pick things up for you.”

He hated grocery shopping. “That would be great. Hold on, I’ll grab the keys and jot down what I need. Okay if it isn’t in alphabetical order?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll integrate it into mine, don’t worry. I’m an expert.”

“Come on in and have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.”

He hurried to his desk, scribbled down a few essentials, all the while hyperaware of her peachy fragrance and long limbs. He blew out an exhale and turned.

She stood at the windows, staring out at the early evening sky, a canvas streaked with an explosion of violet and lemon and tangerine. “Every day I’m falling more and more for the beauty of this place.”

Something tugged in his chest, but he shoved it aside. “Yeah, the desert is growing on me too. Here you go. It’s a baby blue Mustang, parked next to my bike.

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