“I’ve got a handle on it,” she said. “Go on now.”
“If you need anything,” he said, “anything at all, just ask.”
“I will. Thanks for giving me a ride to the store.”
Jordan stood there for another long minute, raking a hand through his dirty-blond hair, before finally turning to leave.
Lindsey released a relieved-sounding breath and began to remove fresh-baked sandwich rolls and deli meat and cheese from her grocery sacks. “Owen, what do you want on your sandwich?”
“Pastrami and rye?” Kellen teased him with a wink.
“Do I look like I got laid today?”
“Huh?” Lindsey said, turning to look at him.
“Nothing,” Owen said, “Turkey and cheddar is fine if you’ve got it.”
“Shade?” Lindsey asked.
“What?” Jacob answered.
“What do you want on your sandwich?”
“You don’t have to make me a sandwich,” he said. “Go sit down and put your feet up. You look a little tired.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I can’t just sit here all day and consume your oxygen. I want to do something.”
“You’re incubating a baby,” Jacob said. “That’s plenty.”
“But it’s not. I didn’t come here to be a pain in the ass,” she said.
“You didn’t?” Owen teased. “You were sure making a go of it when you first arrived.”
“I know I had a major meltdown last night,” she said. “I’m sorry you all had to see that. You try riding next to a grizzly bear of a truck driver who insists on calling you sweet-tits. We’ll see how rational you are after fourteen hours of thinking you’re going to be raped, murdered, and fed to the load of hogs in the back of his semi.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’d like anyone to call me sweet-tits for fourteen hours,” Owen said.
Lindsey giggled.
“You hitchhiked here?” Kellen asked.
“Stupid, I know, but I was desperate. What do you want on your sandwich, Cuff?”
Kellen didn’t care. “Roast beef?”
“Shade?” she asked Jacob again.
“Yeah, roast beef sounds good. I still think you should sit down and let us make our own damned sandwiches.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not going to force myself into your lives.” She peeked at Owen over her shoulder, but he was back to texting on his cellphone, so he didn’t notice. “I just need a little help until I can get on my feet. I’m not a mooch.”
“You shouldn’t be on your feet at all,” Jacob insisted. He moved to stand beside her and placed a hand on her lower back. “You should be resting.”
“No, I shouldn’t be resting; I should be working. Making money. I have a baby to support. I held onto my apartment for as long as possible while I looked for a job after Mrs. Weston fired me. That ate up my savings quickly, and I ended up completely broke. Hopefully I can find a job in Austin real soon and set up a little house for me and the baby so his father can come visit him as much as he can.” She rubbed her belly and gazed longingly at Owen again.
Kellen wasn’t sure if Owen was intentionally ignoring her or just oblivious that he was the main topic of her conversation. She obviously thought her baby was Owen’s. Or she wanted it to be. Kellen didn’t want it to be. He wanted his friend to have kids with someone he was in love with.
Also watching someone who looked so much like Sara pine for his best friend was a total mind fuck. Kellen would buy Lindsey a twenty-bedroom mansion in Hawaii if it meant he didn’t have to see her looking all pregnant and beautiful and alive. But since he was waiting on a sandwich, he might as well sit down for now.
Kellen slid into the booth next to Owen. Owen glanced up to meet Kellen’s eyes, his expression a mixture of fear, disgust, and desperation. He might be pretending that this thing with Lindsey wasn’t affecting him, but Kellen saw through the pretense. He wanted to get Owen out of this jam, but he didn’t know how. This wasn’t just some overzealous groupie who could be dissuaded; there was a baby involved. A baby who needed a father. Any father—even a reluctant one—was better than no father at all.
“So what kind of work will you be looking for?” Kellen asked Lindsey.
“Something in banking,” she said. She set a plate in front of Owen. “Assuming I can get a decent recommendation from my last employer.” She brushed her bangs out of her face and held them back with one hand as she stared into nothingness. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms. I sort of called her a frigid bitch.”
“Thanks for the sandwich,” Owen said quietly, not looking at her.
Yes, Owen, ignore the problem. That fixes everything.
While Lindsey was distracted with failing to gain Owen’s attention, Jacob took her place at the counter to slap together more sandwiches.
As soon as Lindsey saw what he was doing, she grabbed him by one arm and shoved him into the booth across from Kellen and Owen. “Please, Shade, just give me this. Okay? I know it doesn’t make up for much, but I have to contribute something.”
“Will you just let the girl make you a sandwich?” Kellen said.
Owen hadn’t touched his food yet and was texting faster than ever. Kellen snatched the phone out of his hand. “Your text can wait until you’re done eating.”
“Yes, Mommy,” Owen said.
Owen glanced at Lindsey’s back, turned a shade paler, and then reached for his sandwich. He took a small bite, as if worried she’d dosed it with a love potion. Owen really needed to talk about this. Kellen felt bad for having his phone off the night before and for keeping the topics of their earlier conversations all about himself.
“Hey, Lindsey,” Kellen said, “could I get that sandwich to go? I forgot that Owen and I have somewhere we need to be in ten minutes.”
“Sure,” she said, offering Owen a disappointed glance.
“Where?” Jacob asked.
Kellen kicked him under the table. “You know. That thing we always do eight hours before a concert?”
“Masturbate?” Jacob said in all seriousness.
Kellen touched his fingertips to his forehead and shook his head in disbelief. Owen sniggered, then chuckled, and then burst into laughter as if Jacob had just delivered the greatest punch line of all time. Yeah, Kellen definitely needed to let the man vent. He was about to explode.
Lindsey opened a drawer in the tiny kitchen area and rummaged through the contents. “Are there any baggies around here?”
“Not since Adam went straight,” Jacob said.
Owen laughed so hard, he was in danger of splitting both sides. Kellen slipped out of the booth and dragged Owen out behind him by the torn front of his shirt.
“Don’t worry about wrapping it up,” Kellen said, collecting his sandwich from Lindsey’s hand. “I’ll just carry it like this.” He took a huge bite and smiled at her. “Thanks,” he said with a full mouth. “I’m starving.”
He made sure that Owen was carrying his sandwich before he shoved him toward the door. Kellen wasn’t sure where he was taking Owen, but the bus was apparently the worst place for him at the moment.
“Do you need a ride to the hotel?” a man dressed in a black suit and tie asked as soon as they stepped off the bus.
“Yes,” Kellen said. “We need to take our bags to our rooms.”
“Is that the thing we always do eight hours before a concert?” Owen asked.
“No, we masturbate. Remember?”
Owen smiled and snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. In the back of the limo. Hope you have some tissues in the back seat,” he said to the limo driver, patting him hard on the shoulder.
Owen took a big bite of his sandwich and headed to the door that hid a baggage compartment under the bus.