Perfect Song (Mason Creek Book 2) Read online

  Perfect Song

  Mason Creek #2

  Lauren Runow

  Copyright © 2021 by Lauren Runow

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at www.LaurenRunow.com

  Photo by NDAB Creativity

  Cover Designer: Opium House

  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Beta read by Indie Solutions, www.murphyrae.net.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No copyright infringement intended. No claims have been made over songs and/or lyrics written. All credit goes to original owners.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  Playlist

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Justine

  I can’t believe I’m back here, in my hometown, and walking into a bar.

  Not that I’m sad about it. In a weird way, I’m kind of relieved. But it’s still surreal.

  Three weeks ago, if you’d said this was where I’d be right now, I would have laughed at you.

  Living in New York was a dream. I had a job I never thought even possible for a girl from Mason Creek, Montana. I met the most amazing people in a city that offered me everything I’d ever wanted and more. The divine food, awesome clubs, stores with the top fashions … and the men who could cast darkness on every bright light the city had to offer.

  The dream turned into a nightmare, all because of someone I trusted. It’s amazing how one simple decision made with excitement can change a life forever in the most negative way.

  So, now, I’ve returned to the small town I grew up in. Getting to see my old friends is the only plus side to this entire situation.

  I’ve kept in touch with Laken, my best friend from high school, and her sister, Lenora, over the years, thanks to Facebook and Instagram, but this is the first time I’ve been back. While my New York life as a staff writer for Living Now Magazine—a publication I explain as being in direct competition with Cosmopolitan —showed the glamorous side of city living, I’m still surprised just how bad living there got. Hell, I was living it, and it still slipped by me.

  No one knows the real reason why I’m back home, and I hope no one finds out.

  They think I’m here for an extended visit just to hang out with my parents. For now, that excuse is vague enough to work because I don’t know if or when I’ll ever go back.

  Don’t get me wrong. I love the glitz, the glamour, and the excitement of Manhattan. I love being able to walk all over the city without running into a nosy neighbor or town gossip. I love being able to get any kind of food I want at four in the morning and finding a bar ready to welcome me with open arms anytime of the day.

  It’s a different life for sure here in Mason Creek, where there’s only one grocery store, one gas station, and yes, only one bar. There’s no separate nightlife for the after-work cocktails, over-forty crowd, or the barely twenty-one-year-olds. Nope. All legal ages and all walks of life come to this bar. Well, I guess all walks of life is stretching it a bit. Everyone here either works at the ranch or helps run a small business that every single person patronizes.

  Nerves run through me as I open the door to a place I used to wish I were old enough to hang out at—Pony Up. I’ve been home for a few days now, and as I walk in, I know my mom was right. It’s time to try to put the past behind me and visit with my friends. I figure it’s a good night to try since it’s Thursday, and hopefully, the place won’t be too crowded since everyone has to work tomorrow.

  As I take the place in, I’m instantly brought back to my high school days. It hasn’t changed a bit with the actual bar as the center focal point and seemingly the same stools still lining it. I wonder if Doug, the owner, will remember me for how many times he had to throw me out for not being old enough to be in here.

  I enter and hear a girl yell, “Batten down the hatches, everyone. Someone disguised as my best friend just walked through that door.”

  I laugh out loud, hearing Laken copying our favorite movie, Sweet Home Alabama, from years ago. I slowly turn on my heels in the direction of the noise with my hands held up at my sides. When our eyes meet, some of the heartache of what brought me back here melts away just a tiny bit.

  She hasn’t changed at all since I saw her last. Her hazel eyes and long red hair are the perfect complement to her runner’s body, which many girls would die for but never put in the effort like she does with her long runs. Though she’s never left Mason Creek, I’m happy she followed her dreams and owns a bookstore in town that she was able to open after getting a small inheritance from her grandmother.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Please don’t tell me you have a baby … in a bar?” I say, referring to another line from the movie.

  “No, but we’ve both got one at home,” our other friend, Anna—who I didn’t know would be here—shouts out, completing the movie lines. She points to herself and the third person, Lenora—who everyone calls Leni—sitting with them, and they each indeed have a child at home.

  We all laugh as I walk around, giving everyone hugs.

  “Never thought I’d see you back at Pony Up. Well, legally anyway,” Laken teases.

  I let out a breath as I take my seat. “Yep, here I am.” I give her a wide, closed-mouth smile.

  “We’ve missed you. I’m glad you finally decided to show your face around here. Let’s do shots to celebrate!” Laken jumps off the stool she was sitting at and heads toward the bar.

  “Look at you, all city’d up,” Leni says, and I finally get to see what Laken was talking about in the few conversations we’ve had since her son was born. The poor girl has always been petite, but the good Lord not only blessed her with a son, but also boobs to match. The photos she posts don’t do them justice. Breastfeeding did her good, but Laken says she’s super self-conscious about them.

  I plaster that same fake smile and shrug as I look down at my black ponte pants, high heels, and matching silk top. Each one of them is dressed more leisurely in either shorts or dresses. Something I’d wear to the park on a Sunday, not a night out. I guess I forgot just how casual it was here.

  “How have you guys been? Tell me what I’ve missed.”

  “Of course, we have to start with pictures of our babies,” Anna says as she pulls out her phone a
nd shows me the screen saver. “This is Drew.”

  I smile at the little boy she’s hugging. “Wait, your hair was different then.” I point to the blonde hair in the picture; it’s a stark difference to the brown with purple streaks that she sports now.

  “Yeah, I tend to change it up a lot—one of the perks of doing hair. Faith and I are always experimenting with new things. Plus, when you’re a mom, you want something to help you stay young.” Her smile is just as infectious as it always was.

  “Hey, watch it,” Leni yells from across the table. “You’re the youngest one here. We are not getting that old … yet.”

  Laken joins us again with a waitress behind her, carrying four shots and four beers.

  After we each get our drinks, we all hold up a shot glass as Laken says, “To Justine, for finally joining us on a girls’ night out!”

  We clink glasses and drink the liquid. I let the burn rush through me, enjoying that it makes me feel something even if it is a fire-like sensation.

  “Okay, Leni. Your turn. Let me see that cutie-pie,” I say as I hold out my hand for her to show me pictures of her son, Trace.

  She swipes her phone and picks out the best picture to show me. “He’s a handful but worth every minute.”

  I smile at the cheesy grin Trace is showing as he holds up a picture he drew.

  “Enough about us,” Leni says. “What is it really like, working for Living Now Magazine? That’s still just a trip to me. I remember reading that when we were teenagers and thinking what they showed was a whole different universe than what we lived here.”

  I chuckle under my breath. She nailed it with that one. Before I can respond, someone interrupts us.

  “Hey, Anna. Is Beau here tonight?” a deep male voice says from behind me, and I pause.

  It’s a soulful tone, the kind that vibrates deep in the chest and makes your heart speed up. I turn around at the sound as the man who the voice belongs to walks around the table and gives Anna a hug hello.

  He’s tall with broad shoulders and a brawny stance. He’s not Anna’s husband, and I don’t think he belongs to any of the girls at the table.

  He glances around, nodding his hello to all of us. When he sees me, he halts with a glint in his dark green eyes, which are staring at me with a piercing gaze.

  His mouth quirks up in a side smile as he drawls, “And here I thought, I knew everyone in this town.”

  He’s not the only one. Surprise of all surprises, here’s a face I don’t recognize, and it’s a handsome one, to say the least.

  The short sleeve button-up shirt he’s wearing fits just right, not hanging loosely, like most guys in this town. He has a ball cap on, the bill curved tightly and an American flag sewn into the warn camouflage material. His skin is tan, like he’s in the sun a lot, and he has a full beard, though it’s trimmed short against his square jaw. He’s attractive, for sure, and definitely not a man I expected to see in this bar.

  “Then, I guess I’ve proven you wrong,” I say, forgetting that I’m not in New York anymore with some random guy trying to pick us up.

  I feel Laken kick me under the table, and I turn to her with a sorry shrug.

  “Tucker, this is our friend, Just,” Anna says, pointing to me.

  He raises one eyebrow when I smile his way. “Just?” he asks like he’s waiting for them to say just Shirley or just Megan.

  I hold my hand out to him. “My name is Justine, but these girls have called me Just since grade school.”

  He eyes my outfit up and down. “You’re originally from Mason Creek?”

  “Aren’t we all? Why else would someone be in this town?” I pick up my bottle and take another drink.

  His eyes narrow a touch. “Don’t act so happy about it. Mason Creek is home.”

  “To some.” I look down and play with the label on my bottle.

  “To you,” Leni yells across the table. “Own it, girl. You’ll always be one of us.”

  She holds up her drink for a cheers, and I join in.

  She’s right. I need to change my outlook, especially since I’m not sure if I have the nerve to ever go back to New York.

  Anna turns to Tucker. “To answer your earlier question, Beau is at home with Drew. We’re here for a girls’ night out to celebrate us finally getting Just back in Mason Creek. Grab a seat and join us!” she says, pointing to a stool behind us.

  Tucker raises his brows to me, making sure it’s okay.

  I guess my rudeness before didn’t go unnoticed.

  I give him a slight nod, and he grabs the stool, bringing it over to our table and sitting next to me.

  “Not playing tonight, Tucker?” Anna asks.

  “Nope. Just hanging out,” he responds, and the girls raise their glasses, happy to have him here.

  He seems like a nice guy, and if they like him, I should probably do a better job of not being too rude to him. It’s not his fault I have trust issues when it comes to men.

  I relax my shoulders and turn to him. “Playing what?”

  “Up there.” He points to the empty stage that sits in the back, next to the brick wall. “Tonight, there are tables sitting in front of it, but on a Friday or Saturday night, those tables are moved for people to dance the night away.”

  “You’re in a band?” I ask and then take a sip of my beer.

  “Only the hottest band around. He plays all over Montana,” Anna chimes in enthusiastically.

  “Seriously?” I ask, getting a better look at him.

  He’s not what I would expect from someone in a band. I’m guessing he’s in his early forties with very early speckles of gray mixed in his beard. His toned arms are covered in tattoos, and as I lean in, I see he’s got a scar under his right eye.

  He sits up straighter on the stool with his legs spread wide. “Why do you seem so surprised?”

  By his expression, I can tell he’s kidding with me.

  “What’s the name of this band?” I ask, wondering if I’ve heard my mom talk about them before. She’s all about going to the concert series over the summer, and she attends all the festivals in town.

  “The Tucker Simms Band,” he says with pride.

  I try to hide my chuckle and raise my eyebrows. “You’re Tucker Simms? The lead singer of the country cover band I hear so much about?”

  He gives a curt nod, but I can see the cockiness radiating off of him because I’ve previously heard of his name. “Sure am.”

  “My mother loves you.” I try to tamp down his ego.

  He places his hand to his chest, faking to be hurt. “Ouch. Is that your way of telling me that I’m too old for you?”

  I laugh out loud, trying not to be rude again, but having almost no control over my automatic instincts. “Is that what you’re doing here? Trying to hit on me? Let me guess … have you already hooked up with everyone else in town, so I’m fresh meat that you get to stake a claim on because you’re the ‘rock star’ ”—I hold up my fingers, using air quotes—“and everyone knows you get first dibs?”

  He leans back a tad and crosses his arms while slowly nodding his head. His expression reminds me of the movie star Josh Duhamel in one of my favorite movies, Safe Haven. He was so sexy in that movie, and the fact that I’m comparing Tucker to him right now kind of shocks me.

  “You’re feisty, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea,” Laken chimes in. “But she’s a blast too. We’re all glad she’s back home even if it’s only for a little while.”

  I smile her way, feeling bad that I’ve been such a stick in the mud about wanting to hang out. For years, she’s definitely heard me talk about not ever having plans of moving back.

  “You suggest not taking it easy on her then?” he asks with a laugh.

  She points her bottle at me. “Don’t let her fool you. Under all the city black is still a small-town Mason Creek girl who can dish it like the rest of ’em.”

  He nods his head, like things make sense to him now. He leans over and holds
out his hand to me. “Then, let me introduce myself properly,” he says, giving a cavalier smile. “Hi. My name is Tucker. I’ve apparently called dibs on you because I’m hot shit around this place, and everyone knows all new women go through me first.” He takes a sip of his beer to hide the laughter he’s holding back. “If you’re good with that, I’d like to have your number, so I can get the process started and check you off my list, so some other poor schmuck can get his turn.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm.

  “Don’t you mean, notch in your bedpost?” I say, thinking he’s kidding but not willing to back down even if it’s less of a fight and more of me releasing some of my inner frustration, making me feel alive again.

  “Hey, if that’s what it’s got to be, then I’m all game. As long as you feel welcomed back here in Mason Creek, then I’m your huckleberry.” He holds his hands out wide with a cheesy grin on his face as he quotes the famous line from the movie Tombstone.

  “Wow, ancient movie references too. You’re old, aren’t you?”

  He narrows his eyes slightly. “Old only means more experienced in my book.”

  “Amen,” Laken cheers, and Leni laughs and clinks drinks with her.

  Anna reaches over and slaps Tucker on the arm. “Stop messing with my friend.” She scowls at him and then looks in my direction. “That is far from what Tucker is doing here. He and Beau have worked together for a few years now. Believe me, he’s not the type of guy looking to take anyone home just for a notch in his bedpost.”