Easy Melody

  Easy Melody

  Book Three in the

  Boudreaux Series

  By

  Kristen Proby

  EASY MELODY

  Book Three in The Boudreaux Series

  Kristen Proby

  Copyright © 2015 by Kristen Proby

  All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover Art:

  Photography by: Kristen Proby

  Models: John Kirton and Ashley Duty

  Cover Design: Okay Creations

  About the Author

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Kristen Proby is the author of the popular With Me in Seattle series. She has a passion for a good love story and strong characters who love humor and have a strong sense of loyalty and family. Her men are the alpha type—fiercely protective and a bit bossy—and her ladies are fun, strong, and not afraid to stand up for themselves. Kristen spends her days with her muse in the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys coffee, chocolate, and sunshine. And naps. Visit her at KristenProby.com.

  Website

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  Goodreads

  Other Books by Kristen Proby:

  The Boudreaux Series:

  Easy Love and on audio

  Easy Charm and on audio

  Easy Kisses (preorder)

  The With Me In Seattle Series:

  Come Away With Me and on audio

  Under the Mistletoe With Me and on audio

  Fight With Me and on audio

  Play With Me and on audio

  Rock With Me and on audio

  Safe With Me and on audio

  Tied With Me and on audio

  Breathe With Me and on audio

  Forever With Me and on audio

  Easy With You

  The Love Under the Big Sky Series, available through Pocket Books:

  Loving Cara and on audio

  Seducing Lauren and on audio

  Falling for Jillian and on audio

  Baby, It’s Cold Outside and on audio

  An Anthology with Jennifer Probst, Emma Chase, Kristen Proby, Melody Anne and Kate Meader

  Table of Contents

  About Kristen Proby

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Kristen Proby

  Prologue

  ~Callie~

  “What do you mean, he left it to me?” I ask, leaning forward and pounding my fist on Bernie’s desk. “He knew I didn’t want it!”

  Bernie shrugs and sits back in his creaky chair, folds his hands over his round belly and sucks on a peppermint from the jar on his old oak desk. “Doesn’t change that he left the bar and all of its contents to you, Callie.”

  “And all of its debt, no doubt,” I mutter and rub my fingertips on my forehead. “I have a life in Colorado, Bernie. What am I supposed to do?” I sit up straight as a brilliant thought occurs to me. “I’ll sell it!”

  “Well, here’s the thing.”

  “Don’t tell me that there’s a clause in the will that says that I have to marry a virgin and live in a haunted castle for a year in order to inherit,” I reply dryly. “That’s cliché, even for my dad.”

  Bernie grins. “No, nothing that dramatic.”

  “Good.”

  “Your dad tried to sell it a few times over the years, but it never sold. It needs some work, Callie.”

  I stare at him, confused. “He never told me he tried to sell.”

  Not that I spoke to him often.

  “He never even got a nibble.”

  “But, it’s located in the heart of the French Quarter. Surely, someone would want to buy it, fix it up and either flip it or run it.”

  Bernie’s face transforms into a smug smile. “Perhaps someone would.”

  My eyes narrow. “I’m not buying it.”

  “No, you’re inheriting it.” He leans forward again, and his brown eyes soften. Eyes just like my dad’s. “I loved your father, despite all of his faults. He loved three things in his life: your mother, The Odyssey, and you.”

  I refuse to cry in front of my uncle.

  “He was awfully fond of whiskey too,” I reply, but he just narrows his eyes at me. “Uncle Bernie—”

  “You’ve been spending all these years up in Denver, running that club and flipping houses, and your dad was real proud of you. But maybe it’s time to come home, darlin’.”

  Denver is home.

  “I’ll flip it,” I reply and stand to leave his office. “I have savings.”

  “Call me if you need me,” he calls as I saunter out of his office and down to my rental car, then swear like a sailor when I see the parking ticket on the windshield.

  This isn’t my fucking day.

  I pull my phone out of my purse as I pull into traffic and call my long time boyfriend, Keith, who owns Boom, a popular nightclub in Denver that I also happen to manage.

  “Babe,” he answers, making me smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Are you coming back yet?” he asks. I can hear voices in the background and check the time. Mid-afternoon. They’re getting ready for tonight at the club, I’m sure.

  “So, there might be a snag in that,” I reply and change lanes, headed downtown to the bar. “Turns out that I have some work to do here regarding my dad’s bar.”

  “How long will that take?” he asks, his voice calm but hard.

  How long will it take to flip a bar and make a profit? Too long.

  “Honestly, I might be here a couple of months.” I cringe. “But I can commute back and forth.”

  “Actually, Cal, I’ve been wanting to talk to you anyway, and this is as good of a time as any. Remember when I asked you to come in for a meeting last week?”

  “The morning my dad died,” I reply, not at all wanting to hear the next words to come out of Keith’s mouth. Because I’m pretty sure it’s not good.

  “I think it’s time for you to move on, Callie. You’re a great manager, but I feel like the club has stalled.”

  I pull into a parking space, throw the car in park, and stare straight ahead. “Bullshit. You’ve never made a secret that you can be a dick, Keith. That’s something we have in common, and over the two years we’ve been together, we’ve never lied to each other.”

  “You’re right.” He sighs and I can picture him loosening his tie. “It’s time for us to move on, Cal.”

  “You’re firing me and breaking up with me?” This day just keeps getting better and better.

  “I’m going to offer you a very generous severance, Callie.”

  I want to tell him to shove the money, but I’m not that stupid. “Why?”

  “It’s time,” he replies simply.

  “Because you don’t do forever,” I a
dd, remembering all the times he’s warned me of that very fact in the past.

  “I’m sorry, Callie. I’ll give you an excellent letter of recommendation. And if you ever need anything, all you have to do is call. In fact, if you decide to relocate to New Orleans, I’ll have your things moved for you.”

  “For someone breaking up with me, you’re being very nice.”

  “There’s no reason not to be,” he replies and then sighs. “I care about you, Cal. We had a great time together, and you did a good job in my club, but you’re just not my forever girl, and it’s time to move on.”

  I nod, swallowing hard.

  “Thank you.”

  I end the call and stare at my phone for a long few minutes. My dad is dead, and I just lost a job I love and a man that I tried to talk myself into loving all in one fell swoop.

  I guess I’m staying after all.

  I climb out of the car and stand on the sidewalk, staring at the outside of The Odyssey. If the inside is as bad as the outside, this is going to be one very expensive project.

  I open the door, surprised to find it unlocked, and a million memories come washing over me. The floor hasn’t been refinished since I was a kid. The wood is original, but needs to be repaired and resurfaced. My heels click and echo through the dark, empty room. The tables and chairs are the same from my childhood as well, most looking much more wobbly. The windows are wide but dingy, making the space feel even darker.

  The bar is huge, spanning one long wall. It was an antique when Dad bought it thirty years ago, and I’m pleased to see that it’s been well taken care of.

  Suddenly, the door to the back room swings open and in walks Adam Spencer. He halts when he sees me, his sexy eyes traveling up and down as he takes me in. He sets the case of wine on the bar and hurries to me, lifts me in his arms and turns a circle, making me catch my breath.

  “Finally decided to stop by, eh?” he asks as he sets me down.

  “I figured I’d see what Dad left me.” I meet his eyes and shrug. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “Taking care of Dad. Taking care of this place.” I pace away, cross my arms, then turn back to him. “For loving me.”

  “You’re my best friend,” he replies. “And your dad was good to me. Always has been.”

  “He should have left this to you.”

  Adam shakes his head, his brown eyes kind and calm and maybe sad. “It belongs to you. And I’m here to help you in any way you need me.”

  “You’re a good friend.”

  “I’m a kick-ass friend,” he replies. “Just don’t expect me to call you Boss Lady or Your Highness.”

  “What about She Who Is Always Right?”

  “Not a chance.”

  I laugh for the first time in a week and feel my chest loosen, just a bit. “I’m staying.”

  “What about Keith?” he asks.

  I shake my head, not ready to talk about it, and sigh. “I’m going to overhaul this place. Maybe flip it.”

  “Why not keep it? You’ll make a killing.” Adam winks. “With your expertise at fixing stuff up, and my charm, you can’t lose.”

  “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

  I run my hand over the smooth wood of the bar and feel the sadness settle in. “Dad’s gone, Adam.”

  “I know.” He rubs wide circles over my back.

  “I can’t stay upstairs.” My dad lived over the bar in an apartment, and I just don’t have it in me to live there. Too many bad memories.

  “You’ll stay with me until you get stuff figured out.”

  I cock a brow.

  “I have a guest room,” he says defensively.

  “I’ll take it.” I sigh and lay my forehead on my arm. “Who would have thought I’d be back here fifteen years after I left?”

  “Not me, that’s for sure. But here you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  Chapter One

  ~Declan~

  I’m performing at The Odyssey for the first time in three months tonight. It’s been closed for renovations, and I admit, I miss it.

  Fuck it, I miss her.

  And I barely know her.

  What that’s all about, I have no idea. I don’t get hung up. There are too many women out there, in all shapes and sizes, to enjoy. I’ve never been the type to think about monogamy.

  Not that I’m a prick. I just make sure women know the score before I score.

  But I admit, I’m looking forward to seeing the feisty owner of The Odyssey, almost as much as I’m looking forward to seeing what she’s done with the place.

  According to her bar manager, and my friend, Adam, the transformation has been incredible.

  I carry my guitar through the front door, noticing the new sign and paint job on the outside of the building, and then take a deep breath as my eyes adjust to the dimmer light inside.

  Holy fuck, Adam wasn’t kidding.

  “Hey!” the man himself calls from behind the bar, tossing me a smile. “I’m glad you’re early. I want to show you around.”

  “This is amazing,” I say, meaning every word. The floor has been refinished and polished to a honey blond, gleaming where sunlight streams through. New tables and chairs are sprinkled around the room, and new stools sit in front of the bar, which has also been polished.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Adam replies with a smile. “Wait until I show you the roof.”

  “The roof?” I grin and set my guitar on the stage, then turn and almost swallow my tongue as Callie herself comes down the new staircase on the far side of the room. She’s in her signature killer heels, pink today. Her arms and cleavage are showcased in a simple black tank top and those mile-long legs are mostly bare, thanks to a ripped pair of cut-off denim shorts.

  All I have to do is take one look at Callie and know that there’s a God.

  And I hope to make her call out his name in thanks in the very near future.

  “Declan,” she says.

  “Callie,” I reply and feel my lips twitch into a smile as she crosses to the bar and sets a clipboard down. “Nice place you have here.”

  Her blue eyes flare in happiness. “Thank you.”

  “I was just telling Declan that I’ll take him up and show him the roof,” Adam says just as his phone rings. “Crap. I have to take this. Cal, will you show him?”

  “She’ll show me,” I reply, still smiling.

  Callie simply shrugs. “As you can see, we have new tables and chairs. I also replaced the stage area. It was so old, I’m surprised you never fell through it before.”

  “It held up,” I say and follow her as she leads me toward the stairs. I’m eye-level with her ass, and I’m fucking salivating. “I didn’t know there was anything up here. I figured it was storage or something.”

  “It was my dad’s apartment,” she says simply. “I tore it out, made most of it open so it’s now outside seating, and kept some of it covered for the bar."

  We walk out to the best rooftop bar I’ve ever seen, and I’m no stranger to bars. She found an antique bar to match the one downstairs, and it’s indeed covered, with maybe half a dozen tables and chairs nearby. But the outdoor space is just plain kick ass.

  “Wow,” I breathe and stop, hands on hips, glancing around. Couches are grouped together around gas fireplaces and covered with red, blue and yellow umbrellas to block the hot sun. But my eyes are drawn back to the woman responsible for all of it. I’d thought it was all in my head, that she couldn’t possibly be as beautiful as I thought she was.

  But nope. She’s hot.

  “This is the best part,” Callie says with a smile that I’ve rarely seen and leads me to the railing to look out over the Quarter. We can see right into Jackson Square. People are bustling about, munching on beignets, wandering through shops. Music from street performers drift up, tickling my ears.

  The saxophonist near Café du Monde is damn good.

  We lean here, side by side, and take in the Quarter.


  “This is the part I missed.” Callie’s voice is soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it.

  “What’s that, sugar?” I ask, not looking over at her, but she’s stiffened up, as if she didn’t mean to say that out loud.

  “The Quarter,” she replies and takes a deep breath. “All of the people.”

  “There are a lot of them,” I agree. “This is beautiful, Callie. You’re going to pack people in here.”

  “I hope so,” she says with a laugh. “This sucked up most of my savings.”

  “It’ll pay off.”

  “You’ll help,” she replies and turns to walk away, but I catch her elbow and turn her back to me.

  “Wait. Are you being nice to me?”

  “I’ve never been mean to you,” she says, her voice cool and eyes even colder, making them so fucking blue I’d swear they came from the ocean. Her skin is soft in my hand, making me think of long, sweaty nights.

  “Let’s be honest. I don’t think you like me much, and I’d love to know why. I’m a likeable guy.”

  “I don’t dislike you,” she insists and pulls her arm out of my touch, making me want to just touch her somewhere else. “I’m just not typically drawn to men who drink whiskey. Daddy liked it too much. I don’t like it at all.”

  I knew when I ordered the whiskey, the last time I saw her more than three months ago, that it struck a nerve.

  “I don’t always drink whiskey. Frankly, I’m happy with tap water.”

  She cocks a brow and then chuckles. “You’ll be good for business, Declan. And I’m thankful for it.”

  “I will be,” I agree, not at all afraid to admit that I’m popular around here. It pays my bills nicely, and does the same for the business owners I play for. “I’ve missed playing here.”

  “You have?” she asks, seemingly surprised.

  “I have.”

  “Well, good.” She clears her throat and leads me back to the stairs. “Maybe I can talk you into giving me Fridays and Saturdays.”

  You could probably talk me into just about anything, darlin’.

  And that just won’t do. Women are a great distraction, but that’s all they are.