No Place Like You Read online

  And here were his sisters waiting for him. Identical pairs of gray-green eyes watching him with carefully neutral expressions. His sisters didn’t much resemble each other. All three had different mothers, though Faith with her long brown-blond hair and tanned skin looked more like him than tall, dark-haired, pale, and slender Mina.

  But the eyes—their father’s eyes—marked them as siblings.

  Would Grey be disappointed to see the three of them now, silent as a group of cats sizing each other up?

  Probably not. He would have told them all to pull their heads out of their asses, have a drink, and make up.

  He could try suggesting that tactic, but Zach doubted it would work for him.

  For one thing, Mina didn’t drink.

  So here they were, the three of them. Face to face for the first time in a … well, longer than he was proud of.

  He’d known they’d be here.

  Once he’d walked down Main Street in Cloud Bay there had been zero chance of his sisters not hearing that he was home before he made it to the house. He was guessing it had taken no longer than ten minutes for one or both of them to get a call from some well-meaning resident to let them know that the black sheep of the family was headed for the old homestead so to speak. He was probably lucky that Faith’s mom—his stepmom—Lou hadn’t joined in the less-than-welcoming committee.

  “Okay, who ratted me out?” he said, dropping his duffel bag at Faith’s feet. He smiled, hoping to lighten the situation.

  His sisters exchanged a glance that basically said that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Too many people to mention,” Mina said, tone cool.

  “And really, the bigger question is why anyone had to tell us at all?” Faith added. “Did California lose all means of communication or something?”

  Faith was more pissed than Mina. That had been true for nearly a year. Mina was usually the peacemaker. But from the frown she was directing at him, she was clearly on Faith’s side.

  “I’ve been on tour,” Zach said.

  “Tour ended two weeks ago, didn’t it?” Faith asked.

  He should have known that she paid attention to those things. “Yes. But you know what it’s like when you’re done. There’s still shit to do. And sleep to catch up on.” Also there was figuring out what the hell it meant if your lead singer suddenly wanted a year off. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I’m here now. So are you going to let me inside?”

  “Be my guest,” Faith said. But neither of them moved.

  “What?” he asked. “Is there a secret password I need to know?”

  “Why are you here, Zach?” Mina asked. “Is everything okay?”

  Definitely less pissed than Faith.

  “That depends on your definition of okay,” he quipped.

  Faith paled. “You’re not sick?” She reached for Mina’s hand, knuckles white as she squeezed it.

  Crap. He hadn’t thought that they might leap to that conclusion. After all, the thing that had sent Grey running home for good in the end had been cancer.

  “No.” He held up his hands, palms out. “I promise you, I’m fine.” He looked down at his sisters’ linked hands. “Breathe, Faith.”

  She blew out a breath, looking slightly embarrassed. Then tossed her hair back over her shoulder as she let go of Mina’s hand. “Good. So then, what?”

  He’d been hoping to put this conversation off for a few days. He needed to sleep some more, shake the exhaustion that had been riding him since even before Ryder had dropped his bombshell, and then get his plans clear in his head before he brought them to his sisters. But apparently there was no grace period for the not-so-prodigal son.

  “Can we talk inside?” he said. “It’s hot out here and my guitars will cook.” He pointed back at the pickup he’d borrowed from Billy to cart his gear over.

  “You brought guitars?” Faith’s brows rose.

  “A few,” he said.

  “Does that mean you’re staying awhile?” Mina asked. Her expression was still neutral, but was that maybe a hint of hopeful in her voice?

  “Did you two join the Spanish Inquisition while I was away?” Zach asked. He took a step back, angling himself toward the pickup. “Look, we can talk inside, but I’d like to bring my bags in first, if that’s okay?”

  “Fine.” Faith climbed to her feet. “We’ll meet you inside.”

  The implication being that big brothers who’d pissed off their sisters got to carry their own damn luggage.

  Well, maybe he’d earned that much. He watched his sisters disappear into the guesthouse, united in their disapproval, and then turned to deal with his stuff.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later he had a pile of gear in the entry hall and no more excuses to avoid explaining why he was home. He could hear Faith and Mina out back in the kitchen, laughing about something. He headed in that direction.

  One of them had opened the place up. The house was cool, ceiling fans circling lazily in each room, catching the air coming through the windows. It was warm outside but not hot enough to need air-conditioning, and the sea breeze brought the smell of salt and the flowers in the garden. A familiar smell that settled over him, making all the tense muscles down his spine relax fractionally. What he really wanted was to swim. Dive into the ocean and let it wash his problems away for a few minutes. The water would still be on the cool side, but that was oddly appealing.

  But first, his sisters.

  The laughter died when he walked through the door to the kitchen. Mina and Faith sat at the small dining table near the windows that looked out over the patio to the ocean beyond. They’d made coffee, they both had mugs in front of them. And, hallelujah, there was a third mug on the table. So either they weren’t completely annoyed at him, or maybe they’d put arsenic in his cup. Either way, he needed caffeine, so he’d take the risk. He’d caught a red-eye to get into L.A. to meet up with Eli and Billy the day before, and they’d been up early today to get to Billy’s boat.

  He was running on fumes. The smart thing to do would be to sleep of course, rather than pour more coffee down his throat, but if his sisters were determined to talk, then coffee it was going to be.

  He sat, reached for the mug, drank about one third of it in several rapid gulps.

  “Billy been keeping you up late?” Faith asked. “Or was it Eli?”

  “How is Eli?” Mina asked, her tone a shade warmer than Faith’s.

  “Recovering,” Zach said. “His ankle is still healing but he’s getting around. He’s got a decent amount of physical therapy in his future but for now he mostly just needs to rest up. I think that’s why Billy dragged him out here.”

  “Dragged? That’s an interesting description of coming home,” Faith said.

  He put his coffee down. “Eli has a life outside Lansing. Some people do, you know. I’m sure he would rather be back in L.A., doing his job.”

  Faith didn’t bat an eye at his sarcastic tone. “Which brings us back around to the subject of why you aren’t off somewhere exotic doing your job, brother mine? Care to share?”

  He thought he saw Mina wince slightly as the air between him and Faith turned a little electric. They’d always been the passionate two, arguing about music and life. They’d always been able to hug it out and forget at the end of the fight too. Until last year. Zach had pulled out of appearing at CloudFest at the last minute and Faith had not taken it well. In fact, she’d pretty much ripped him a new one. Perhaps deservedly. After all, he’d kind of done to her what Ryder had just done to Zach and the rest of the band. Left her high and dry.

  Fuck. He rubbed a hand over eyes that increasingly felt like sandpaper. “Look, Faith, I know I’m not your favorite person right now but how about I just tell you why I’m here and we can fight about whatever you want after I’ve had a chance to get some sleep?”

  Faith’s lips pressed together, but then she nodded. Mina finally smiled when she saw Faith relax back into the chair.

  “Ok
ay, that’s a temporary truce,” Mina said. “So, spill.”

  He took another swig of coffee. Mostly to make sure the string of curses that floated through his head whenever he thought of Ryder weren’t the words that came out of his mouth when he started to talk.

  “Ryder wants to take a year off. Fringe Dweller is on hiatus for that time. So Jay thought it would be a good time for me to record a solo album.”

  Faith’s brows shot up. Mina’s mouth had made a perfect O.

  “You want to record here?” Faith asked.

  He understood her surprise. He’d always been determined not to ride on Grey’s name, and Grey and Blacklight were indelibly linked with Cloud Bay and Lansing.

  “Jay thinks it’s a hook. Give us some leverage with a label to get a decent deal if we can appeal to some of Blacklight’s audience.”

  “You want a label deal?” Faith asked, still looking startled.

  “If it’s a good one. Still hard to beat the marketing power of a label even if I don’t need their money to record.” Zach said. “Jay says they’ll fall over themselves at the whole ‘second-generation Harper going back to his roots’ thing.”

  Faith pursed her lips. “I’d have to agree with that.”

  Her expression had changed from annoyed to interested. Ah, he’d engaged her business brain. A good tactic to remember.

  “So, I thought I could record a short set—five or six songs maybe—and debut them at Cloud Fest. Take the Blacklight slot.” He paused. “I assume none of the others have asked for it?”

  The band members had started CloudFest together all those years ago. These days, even though Harper Inc. ran the festival, there was a standing agreement that any of them could take a slot at the festival if they wanted. None of them had, and instead Faith had been keeping up Grey’s tradition of sneaking a big name onto the CloudFest schedule without announcing them to fill the space in the schedule. The fans loved the surprise—and the online speculation about who might be appearing each year made for excellent free promo for the festival.

  “What makes you think I haven’t filled the slot already?” Faith asked.

  Which didn’t exactly answer his question, but if she was talking of filling the slot, then he had to assume Danny, Billy, or Shane hadn’t asked for it.

  “Tradition,” he said. “You usually schedule it late.”

  “I respect tradition,” Faith said. “But with tradition comes a little thing called loyalty. We gave you the secret slot last year, Zach, and you left us—left me—in the lurch at the last minute. It was only because Danny stepped up that the whole thing wasn’t a total disaster. Why should I trust you this year?”

  Because this year he needed it? That was a hell of a thing to think. And he wasn’t going to say it out loud to his sisters, even if it was true. It made him sound like a total self-centered prick. Maybe he was a total self-centered prick. “Last year was different,” he said. “And this year, obviously, Fringe Dweller isn’t going to be picking up any last-minute gigs at Madison Square Garden.”

  Faith shook her head. “It’s still a couple of months away. What if Ryder changes his mind? You going to abandon this little side project of yours and go running back?”

  Maybe he deserved that. He took a deep breath. He was here to make peace, not get into yet another argument with Faith. “Firstly, it’s not a little side project. I’ve been writing songs for this for a while now. Secondly, no. If Ryder changes his mind, then he’ll have to wait until I finish. He can’t have it both ways.”

  “I see,” Faith said. “So, who’s your producer? And who are you using for your band?”

  Yep, definitely in business mode now.

  “I have some feelers out for producers,” he said. Feelers. That sounded casual. Hopefully Faith wouldn’t ask who. He was trying not to think about it. He was going after his two dream producers. There was a good chance they’d turn him down. He hadn’t decided what he’d do if that happened. “Eli has heard a couple of the songs and is going to work on two of them with me. And I’ll figure out the band. It’s a low-key sound so I can start with getting my guitar parts and vocals down.”

  He waited to see if Faith was going to offer any suggestions on the band front. Not because he needed her to but because, if she offered, it was probably a sign that she was thawing a little. But she just sipped her coffee instead. “If you want studio time, then you need to talk to Leah. I’m not going over her head to give it to you.”

  Maybe “no” on the thawing then. “I’m going to use Dad’s studio to start, but sure, I’ll ask Leah, get a feel for timeframes.”

  Grey’s private studio was small, sized for four or five people max to work in. It had a single practice room and a small recording booth that you could just squeeze a drum kit, a drummer, and three other people into. The size didn’t matter. The place had great acoustics, decent equipment. Not quite as new as the set up at the Harper Inc. studio, but it would do.

  Blacklight had recorded their first album in an old house overlooking the cliffs up this end of the island, but by the time Cloudlines had catapulted them to fame, the house had burned down. The four of them had all bought land on this part of the island and Grey had built the studio on the spot the old house had stood long before he’d decided to expand and build a proper recording facility so that other bands could record on the island too.

  As a kid, Grey’s studio had been sacred ground to Zach. Grey hadn’t liked to be disturbed in there, and Zach would sit outside, hoping that the windows would be open so he could listen to his dad and the guys messing with songs, knowing he wanted to do that too one day. Once he’d learned to play, Grey had let him in to jam a few times. Those moments were some of his best memories from his childhood. He and Grey speaking the same language, sharing a fierce love for the magic that could be made with guitars and voices. He and Faith hadn’t rehearsed their stuff there; they’d stuck to the rehearsal rooms at the Harper studios instead. Unless Faith ever set foot in Grey’s studio, it was unlikely that anyone had been in there, other than maybe to clean, since Grey’s death.

  Maybe he could be a fresh start for it. And vice versa.

  “Unless either of you have a problem with that?” he added.

  “Of course not,’ Mina said quickly. “Dad would want you to use it.” She shot a “don’t argue” look at Faith. And, Faith, to his surprise, didn’t. Mina had always been the quiet one, deferring to Faith most of the time. She didn’t often call the shots. Maybe he’d missed more than family time in the last few years.

  “Good,” he said, smiling at Mina. “Thanks. So, does that end the inquisition for now?”

  Faith blew out a breath, but then nodded. “For now.” She rose. “We should let you unpack.” She hesitated. “Do you want to come up to the house for dinner tonight? Lou is coming over.”

  That was an olive branch. A teeny one, given the tacked-on comment about Lou that he was pretty sure was to make sure he knew Faith wasn’t making any special effort for him—but he’d be dumb to turn it down. “Sure,” he said easily. “Sounds great.” He’d only met Faith’s fiancé twice in person—once at Mina’s art show in L.A. and once when Lou had asked him to lunch in New York and had turned up with Faith and Caleb in tow, presumably in an attempt to start the reconciliation ball rolling. It hadn’t worked. But maybe if he could bond with Caleb that would also improve Faith’s current opinion of him. Though it might also be nice to have a buffer between him and Faith. Or several buffers. He turned to Mina.

  “Mina, can you come? Bring Will. It would be good to see him again.” Mina’s new guy, Will Fraser, ran a bar and whiskey distillery on the island. Zach didn’t know him that well either, but he’d drunk at Salt Devil a few times in its early years when he’d still been coming home a few times a year. He’d liked Will then and he liked him more now that he’d seen how happy Mina was with him. Will had shadowed her around that same gallery opening, giving Mina space to shine but always there when she looked around for
him.

  Mina shook her head. “I can come for a while but I have the graveyard shift at search and rescue tonight. And Will is working at the bar. Maybe we can figure something out later this week? But you can come see me at the cottage, I’m there painting most afternoons. I’ll tell Stewie not to bite you.”

  “The way to a Lab’s heart is through his stomach,” Zach retorted. “One cookie and that dog is mine.” If only sisters were as easy to win over. Though Mina was smiling properly now.

  Faith linked her arm through her sister’s. “Come on, Mina. Let’s give the prodigal son some space.”

  He followed them out to the front door. Mina kissed his cheek and hugged him tight as she said goodbye. At first he thought Faith wasn’t going to do the same but then she stood up on her toes and kissed him quick.

  “Welcome home, you big dumbass,” she said quickly then ran down the stairs before he could respond.

  * * *

  “So, spill,” Leah demanded as she passed Faith a cup of coffee the next morning. She’d come armed for their weekly review of the studio’s schedule with salted caramel lattes and a box of pastries. All the better to weasel information about why Zach was home out of her best friend. Maybe that made her sneaky, but forewarned was forearmed and all that. If Zach was only here for a few days then she could just keep her head down and stay out of his way and there’d be no way of getting herself into trouble with nostalgic longing for the man.

  If he was going to be here for longer however, that required a different plan. She opened the bakery box and pushed it across Faith’s desk. “Fresh from The Last Crumb this morning.”

  Faith tried to look stern but failed miserably. “Don’t tell Caleb. He thinks I have a doughnut habit.”

  “He’d be right,” Leah said. “But where he’s wrong is in thinking that there’s anything wrong with said habit. You run and do all that healthy stuff. The odd doughnut isn’t going to kill you.”