Facing the Music (Rosewood 1)

from the pretty boys she’d gotten used to in LA. That whole town was crawling with metrosexual men who spent more time doing their hair than she did. Ivy’d had to adapt or she wouldn’t have ever dated.

But seeing Blake again reminded her of what men could really be like. He was rough around the edges, and she’d liked it. Add that she was a sucker for a pair of baby blues and his mere presence tested her resilience. Thank goodness his smart mouth always interfered before she did something stupid.

It was an emotional pendulum. Her brain kept flipping from their run-in at the cabin to their fight in the bar. His smirk as he noticed her predicament. The roll of his eyes as her song came on the jukebox. His approval of her mostly naked body. His easily spouted insults. His refusal to go for the jugular when she was virtually unarmed. His lack of hesitation when they were on even footing and surrounded by his supporters . . .

Part of her had hoped she would come home to find him looking like a cast member of Duck Dynasty. It would’ve been easy to ignore him then. But his looking like he did made it hard to focus on why she couldn’t like him anymore. Hopefully, she could get through the next few weeks without spending a lot of time with him. Her mother had told her when he got the job as the assistant football coach at the high school last summer. If she had any luck at all, he wouldn’t have a role in any of her fund-raisers. Tomorrow she would find out for sure. Today was about barbecue and family time.

Ivy had to use her GPS to find the new house. She’d paid off her parents’ mortgage on the house she’d grown up in, a small, 1960s-era brick rancher with two bedrooms and one bath. It was tiny by modern standards, but well maintained, and just enough for their little family. She’d offered to help her parents buy a new place, but they’d refused. Then, a year and a half ago, they’d put the rancher up for sale and used the money along with their savings to buy land and build a new home.

She felt terrible about it, but she hadn’t seen the new place yet although they’d moved in a year ago. As she drove down a small country road, she realized she was heading toward Lydia’s family home. The entrance to Whittaker Farms was a mile up the road, but nearly everything you could see to the right of the highway belonged to them.

Her parents had mentioned they’d built out this way, but she hadn’t realized how close they were to her old stomping grounds. Her mother had always admired the area when she drove Ivy out to the farm for parties and sleepovers, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

The GPS announced that her destination was on the left. Pulling her car into the gravel driveway, Ivy paused to look at the bright yellow two-story farmhouse with the wraparound porch. It was charming, exactly what her mother had always wanted. She drove around the house, parking behind the two-car garage. The old house had a one-car garage, but her father had closed it in when she was a kid and used it as a studio to teach private music lessons.

This one was just for cars, she noted as she saw a small building away from the house with a sign that said MUSIC LESSONS over the door. Finally, her mama wouldn’t have to listen to the tortured strains of a freshman tuba player.

Off the back of the house was a large, partially screened-in wood deck. Ivy got out of her car and bypassed the back door for the stairs to the deck. Her daddy was there, poking around at the grill with his back turned to her.

Trent Hudson had been the stereotypical band geek in his day. He was tall, thin, and wiry, no more than a hundred and forty pounds after a good meal. He wore thick glasses and had a cowlick in his dark hair that refused to lie down.

But even then, it was no mystery why her mother fell for him. When her daddy picked up a musical instrument, he might as well be a rock star. He had the stage presence of Mick Jagger, the guitar skills of Eddie Van Halen, and the wicked smile of Jon Bon Jovi. He could play any instrument, look at any sheet of music and perform it flawlessly.

Ivy was fairly certain that she got not only her musical talent but also her ability to charm an audience from her father. Why he opted to stay in Alabama and teach marching band instead of going to Nashville and breaking into the music business was a mystery she’d never solve.

She did have a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the hot brunette in the kitchen. The back door opened just then and her mother stepped out with a plate of marinated chicken breasts. Sarah’s eyes lit up as she noticed Ivy standing on the porch.

“Hey, baby.” She handed Trent the chicken and came over to give Ivy a hug. “You found us! I’m so glad you could make it today. I can’t believe you haven’t seen the house yet.”

“Of course I made it, Mama.”

Her dad threw the chicken on the grill and closed the lid before coming over. “Sneaking up on me, are you?” He wrapped Ivy in a big hug and readjusted his Alabama ball cap. “How are you, Peaches?”

“I’m good, Daddy.”

He smiled wide and threw his arm around her shoulder. “Good, good. How do you like the cabin?”

“It’s perfect. You chose well. Aside from the view.”

Trent laughed and walked back over to the grill. “I thought you always said the mansion was beautiful.”

“Yeah, well,” Ivy said, “that was before all the unpleasantness. I see you built this place across from Whittaker Farms. I’m noticing a trend.”

“Yes, we’ve deliberately chosen our home sites to make you uncomfortable. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, isn’t that what they say?”

“You’re just messing with me.”

“I know. We chose this spot because it was for sale at a great price. It’s a little ways out of town proper, but we both just love having the space. Sarah, honey, why don’t you give her the tour while I finish up dinner?”

“Sure,” her mom said with a smile, ushering Ivy through the French doors into the great room. “Now I’m sure this won’t be anything as glamorous as those Hollywood Hills homes, but we’re pretty excited about how it turned out.”

The great room was a combination family room, kitchen, and dining room. It had high ceilings and a large stone wood-burning fireplace on one wall. The dark hardwood floors, whitewashed cabinets, and mottled tan granite countertops came together for a homey feel. Most of the furniture was older, but the updated surroundings had given it a new life. The combination of old and new made the house seem comfortable and familiar.

“Our master suite is through here.” Sarah gestured toward the open door of the room. “I got a Jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. I was so excited and wouldn’t you know, I’ve only used it twice?”

Ivy followed her into the hall and up the stairs to the second floor.

“There are two more bedrooms and a bath up here. One is a guest room and the other is my sewing room. We’ve also got this big bonus area we aren’t sure what to do with yet.”