I love rock and roll, p.1
I Love Rock and Roll, page 1
I LOVE ROCK AND ROLL
UNDERGROUND GRANNY MATCHMAKERS BOOK 1
TAMIE DEAREN
Copyright © 2021 by Tamie Dearen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 9798542413662
Cover: Tamie Dearen Arts
CONTENTS
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Tamie Dearen
To my hubby, who never loses his sense of humor
This is the first book in the Underground Granny Matchmakers, a lighthearted, fun-filled romantic comedy series about finding love (with a little help from grandma).
Enjoy the whole series:
I Love Rock and Roll—West and Harmony
Carry on Wayward Son —Race and April
Jingle Bell Rock—Drake and Mark
Looking for a Cowboy—Matt and Joy
To get a free book, sign up for Tamie Dearen’s newsletter and be the first to hear about deals and new releases!
1
WEST
“Ms. Rivers is here for her audition.” Patti’s awkward tone caught my attention, and my muscles tensed.
Not that I wasn’t uptight before. I knew my grandma had ulterior motives when she sent Harmony Rivers’ contact information over. For the past year, Grandma Bette’s attack on my bachelorhood had been relentless. I should’ve hired a tester for the chocolate chip cookies she gave me yesterday—she’d probably laced them with a love potion. These days, I dreaded her phone calls, wondering which sweet-single-girl-from-church she’d attempt to match me with next.
Last week, I’d finally confronted her. “I know what you’re doing, Grandma Bette. And it’s not going to work. I’m not interested in getting married.”
“It’s high time one of my grandsons got married and gave me a great-grandchild. You’re all in your thirties now, and I’m not getting any younger, you know. Your cousins are too wild to settle down, so it has to be you.”
“What about Race? He’s only a year younger than me.”
Race was my half-brother, but we grew up together. Grandma Bette was our mom’s mother. Mom seemed content enough with our lives, seldom interfering or offering advice. But Grandma Bette was another story.
“Ha! I have something else in the pipes for Race.” She’d pursed her lips. “Besides, he’s tied up with his music career.”
As usual, I’d swallowed my resentment. It wasn’t Race’s fault he’d accidentally recorded a hit song that had rocketed him to the top of the charts and garnered the adoration of millions of screaming fans. And it wasn’t like he didn’t pay me a fortune to be his manager. But Race had never stopped to think of all I’d sacrificed to keep his life and career in order and clean up his messes. And believe me, there’d been plenty of messes… especially lately.
The truth was I hadn’t had much of a music career when his took off. But with my current obligations, there was no chance that would ever happen to me. Not as long as I was babysitting my irresponsible rockstar brother.
Hence the reason I’d become my grandmother’s chosen target for her matchmaking, with the production of progeny as the admitted goal. But this time, I had a plan. I was going to take the hand I’d been dealt—the wild card my grandmother was offering—and make a big play.
I’d thought of a way to get my grandmother off my back, control my brother’s wild behavior, and free up time to pursue my own music, all in one bold move.
It was going to work. It had to work. But the plan’s success hinged on one woman—the one I hoped would free me from my prison. The woman who was about to walk into this room and audition for a concocted job as a backup singer in my brother’s band. The woman whose innocent smile and squeaky clean resumé had the potential to work a miracle on my brother’s soiled reputation.
The woman whose arrival currently had my personal assistant looking like someone had asked her to swallow a bowl of live worms.
“What is it, Patti?” My stomach clenched, waiting for her answer. Whatever the problem, I’d find a solution. The big hurdle had been getting my brother on board with the plan. He’d finally agreed in principle, though he’d insisted he wouldn’t commit until he met her. In fact, he was on his way over at that very moment.
“She’s a little…” Patti paused, scrunching her nose. “… wet.”
“Wet?” I stood and moved around my desk.
“And muddy.”
I stifled a groan. Why couldn’t one thing in my life go off without a hitch?
“Okay, send her in.” My mind raced. “And when my brother gets here, try to stall him.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” Patti said, with her usual sarcasm. She wasn’t in on the plan, but she was too sharp not to suspect something was afoot. To her credit, she hadn’t even questioned me when I’d told her to set up the lone audition for a backup singer we clearly have no need for.
Patti disappeared, and a few seconds later Harmony Rivers limped into the room, in all her drowned-rat glory. She was splattered with mud, down to the tips of her shoes. Her dark auburn tresses were drenched, dripping to make dark patches on her light green top. Her wet clothes stuck to her, emphasizing her curves in a way that was hard to ignore. She had on those stretchy pants—the kind that would’ve shown off her long legs even if they’d been dry. Only the bright blue purse, dangling from a strap on her shoulder, seemed to have escaped whatever watery catastrophe that had befallen her.
Then my gaze met her startling eyes, and my throat constricted. Her picture hadn’t done her justice. Forest-green with blue-gray stars around the pupils, those eyes could’ve kept me entranced for hours. The slight smudging of black mascara under her lower lashes only made her look more enticing. Like a waif who needed protecting.
Not that she was short. She was actually pretty tall, especially with her heels. Still, something about her called out to me. Maybe it was the way she was trembling. She’d obviously been through some kind of trauma. She needed a knight in shining armor, and I was the man for the job.
No, no, no! This can’t happen. I can’t be attracted to her. I need my brother to take her off my hands, or I’ll be stuck in his shadow for the rest of my life.
A drop of water clung to her thick eyelashes, and I found myself reaching out to brush it away. At the last second, I jerked my hand back and stuffed it in my pocket. Except it wouldn’t fit. After struggling to jam my fingers inside, I gave up and settled for hooking a thumb over the edge.
Those captivating green eyes were staring at my hand. It must’ve looked ridiculous, hanging precariously from my pocket. Clearing my throat, I brought the hand up to my head and smoothed my hair. It was my signature cool move.
It’s all good. I’m back in my groove.
2
HARMONY
West Garrison wanted nothing to do with me. I could tell by his stunned expression, his jerky movements, and the way he scuttled backwards against his desk to put some distance between us. But I couldn’t give up without even trying. I’d flown all the way from Nashville to LA for this audition. Not to mention depleting my savings to buy the plane ticket.
If I didn’t get this gig, I’d be back to ramen noodles every night. I might even lose my apartment. I’d have to give up and go home with my tail between my legs. Dry Gulch, Texas—the home of the Fighting Stinkbugs. Dad would be thrilled. I’d rather have splinters under my fingernails.
I searched my sleeve for a dry piece of fabric to blot the water running down my forehead. Why had there been water in the street, anyway? Wasn’t there some song about how it never rains in California?
My legs were shaking, but it wasn’t from nerves. Well, at least that wasn’t the only reason. One of my heels was broken, and it was taking all my strength to stay balanced. Leaning my weight on the good shoe, I grabbed my sopping wet hair in both hands and twisted, squeezing the water out. Only when I followed his gaze to the distinct puddle forming on the gleaming wood floor did I realize my mistake.
“Sorry!” I scanned the room for a towel. There weren’t any. No surprise. Who kept a towel in an office? I dropped to my knees and let the water seep into my leggings. “There. That got most of it sopped up.”
Satisfied, I climbed to my feet, only to find him staring like a broken nutcracker—eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He still hadn’t spoken, but that was okay. As long as he hadn’t officially rejected me I still had a chance.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I said.
He blinked a few times. I could only hope he was listening instead of planning how best to usher me out. Or maybe he was thinking of call
“It was my shoes.” Standing precariously on one foot, I lifted the other to show him the broken, dangling heel on my precious, red-soled Jimmy Choos. Now splattered with mud. Like the rest of me.
“You see, I was an hour early for my audition. So the taxi driver dropped me off where I could do some window shopping. But there weren’t any prices in the display, so I was curious and went inside to snoop. But as soon as I touched a dress—I was only trying to find a price tag—the sales lady snatched it and shoved me into a fitting room with it. And then she added three more dresses. And none of them had price tags! I figured that was a really bad sign, right? They probably cost a fortune. And she must’ve thought I could afford them because I was wearing Jimmy Choos.”
I paused, hoping for some indication he was following along, but all I saw was a small twitch at the corner of his lip. Maybe he was shy, and that was his way of communicating.
“Only my Jimmy Choos aren’t real,” I whispered, because you had to whisper when you admitted something like that. “They’re knockoffs. I bought ‘em on a street corner for fifty bucks.”
A brief smile flashed across his lips. Just for a second, and then it was gone. But it was there! I was making progress.
“So I made noises like I was trying on clothes for a while, and when the coast was clear, I made a beeline for the door. I heard her calling, ‘Miss! Miss!’ so I slipped outside and started running down the sidewalk, with her chasing me.”
“Let me guess.” He lifted an eyebrow and leaned back against his desk. “She tackled you? And you landed in a mud puddle and broke your shoe?”
For the first time, my brain actually processed what I was seeing. This guy was gorgeous! Tall—way taller than my five feet seven inches—and broad shouldered. Dark hair, slightly too long on top, like he’d been too busy to take time for a haircut. Several days’ growth of beard confirmed that impression, while emphasizing the firm lines of his jaw. His crystal blue eyes seemed to see more than they should. I stared at those mesmerizing eyes so long I almost forgot what I was saying.
“No,” I croaked, peeling my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “She didn’t tackle me. I was running and looking back over my shoulder and stepped on a grate in the sidewalk. My heel got stuck and it broke. Thank goodness I landed in a flower bed, so I didn’t get hurt.”
“Looks like you landed in a dirty water fountain.”
“I do like to make a splash.” I flicked a wet strand of hair behind my shoulder.
His mouth kicked up on one side. “I think you succeeded.”
“Before I could get up, a truck drove by and hit a puddle of water. Naturally, it splashed all over me.”
“Naturally.”
“And it turns out, I’d left my purse in the dressing room, and the lady was bringing it to me.”
He bit his lips to keep from laughing, and then I couldn’t take my eyes off them. He had really nice ones. I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him.
Wait! What am I doing?
I couldn’t think something like that about this man. If I got this job, he’d be my boss. And if there was one thing I’d learned in my thirty-one years, you never dated your boss. It was a great way to ruin a relationship and a job at the same time. Anyway, I’d sworn off men after Matt—my former boss—had done his number on me. That’s when I’d decided to move to Nashville and devote myself to pursuing my music career. For the past four years, I’d done just that.
“My middle name is Grace,” I babbled.
“Is that a joke?”
“No, that’s really my middle name.” I chewed on my lower lip, wishing my mouth had an off button. Or at least a slow-down button so it didn’t work faster than my brain. “Actually, I guess it is a joke, for me to have a name like that. Should’ve been Clumsy.”
“Harmony Clumsy doesn’t flow as well as Harmony Grace. Ah, I know a good alternative. Harmony Gauche.”
Good grief, he was so mouthwatering when he smiled. I almost forgot why I’d come.
“Okay, shall I sing for you?”
West’s brow furrowed as his cell phone buzzed. With a glance, he silenced it. Then those mesmerizing eyes locked with mine, sending my heart on a rollercoaster ride. The kind with a thousand-foot drop, followed by a loop-the-loop. This did not bode well.
“Maybe we should reschedule,” he said, a crease between his brows.
I gave my head a shake, pulling my attention back to reality. “I’m fine. I’m ready to sing, if you’ll give me a chance.”
He was frowning at his vibrating cell phone again.
“You could come back tomorrow, when you’re… dry.”
My return ticket was on the red-eye that night. There was no way I could afford to get a hotel and buy another ticket.
“Please! I’m great at singing wet. I sing in the shower all the time.”
He typed something on his phone and slid it back into his pocket. “I’m sorry, Ms. Rivers…”
Everything was falling apart! All because of a little ill-fated window shopping. This was my big chance—to sing on stage with none other than Race Madden. He wasn’t just well-known—he was a mega-star. The opportunity of a lifetime was slipping out of my grasp like a frantic chicken. I had to do something, or that hen was going to fly the coop!
If he heard me sing, he wouldn’t be able to turn me down. The rest of my life might’ve been one long episode of I Love Lucy, but my voice had never failed me. Not only did I have God-given talent, but I’d spent years honing my skill. I wasn’t a good singer—I was great. Not that you could tell by looking at my bank account. But that was because I’d never gotten the big break I’d needed. Until now.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and belted out the crooning melody of Race Madden’s lone ballad. It was the only slow song on the rockstar’s debut album, by far my favorite. I didn’t stop singing until I got to the end of the haunting chorus, holding the final note and eking out every last bit of emotion.
I cracked an eye open and peeked at West Garrison, the doorkeeper to my career. He loved it! His eyes were dilated, and his Adam’s apple bobbed like it was taking a lot of effort to swallow. I stayed perfectly still, but inside I was jumping around like a pogo stick.
Then something changed. His warm gaze turned to ice and dropped to the floor… along with my hopes.
3
WEST
Her voice was enthralling! I’d thought her demo must’ve been expertly mixed to give that rich sound. But standing six feet away as her velvety voice caressed my innermost being, I knew I’d never be the same. Each note reverberated in the room, lulling me into a trance. As the last silky tone ended, I realized I was holding my breath. I gasped to keep from passing out.
How could anyone’s voice sound so sweet and yet so sensual? Then I looked into her innocent green eyes, expectant and hopeful, and I had my answer. Her soul was as clean and pure as her clear, untainted voice. And I realized, with horror, that I would be the lowest kind of creature if I carried through with my plan. I couldn’t let my brother get anywhere near this guileless woman. He’d ruin her. Even if she was strong enough not to join his wild partying, he’d rip her heart out and hand it back to her in shreds. Like he had with every other woman he’d dated in the past three years. So many, I couldn’t count. What had I been thinking?
I had to send Harmony away. Quickly. Maybe she wouldn’t be too upset if I offered compensation for her time and travel.
“Ms. Rivers, I’m sorry, but—”
