Finding Bailey: A Lake Tahoe Romantic Suspense Novel Read online

  He finished the song and said, “We’re parched up here. Hope you don’t mind if we take a break.” The playful smile at the crowd made everyone in the bar smile back at him, including Bailey. She stepped up to the bar, took a stool, and waited for him. She knew he was taking a break so he could check on her. She hadn’t talked to him since he left her mother’s house earlier after finding her baby book.

  Bailey turned to see him detained by a beautiful blonde, but, to her surprise, he brushed her off and continued toward Bailey.

  She chuckled at him when he sat in the stool next to hers. “Please, Casanova, don’t let me keep you from your adoring fans.”

  “Stop it.” He nudged her shoulder. “I’m worried about you. How’re you feeling?”

  The grin slipped from her face. “To be honest, I feel a little lost.” Her voice grew quiet, and she tried to smile at Wade as he approached, handing Ryan a beer.

  “Hey, Bailey, whaddya drinking tonight?” Wade asked, flashing a dazzling smile at her.

  “You know.” She tried really hard to smile at him, but it was weak, she knew. “I’ll drink whatever special you’re serving up, but make sure it does its job. I want to be numb when I walk out of here.”

  Wade leaned on the bar and let out a low whistle then looked at Ryan. “What’s wrong with our little Bailey tonight?”

  She frowned, but before she could answer, her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her purse and saw Dex’s number. “Hey, babe, are you running late?” she said as she answered.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not going to make it up tonight.”

  Bailey gritted her teeth at the lack of genuine sorrow in his voice. “Okay. What happened this time? Work call you in for a crisis? Too busy with your friends? Parents’ anniversary—again?”

  “My sister’s birthday. My brother-in-law planned a surprise party for her.”

  Dex had completely missed the sarcasm in her tone, and she wanted to laugh, but she was too hurt to even crack a smile. “Okay, well, maybe next weekend—”

  Ryan snatched the phone from her ear. “Or maybe not, prick!”

  Bailey reached for the phone as Ryan pounded the disconnect button.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked.

  “That bastard is what’s wrong with me. Why do you put up with that?”

  “Ryan, you need to stop.”

  “You let that punk walk all over you, and I’m supposed to just let it slide? Forget it.” He turned to Wade for backup.

  “He’s right, Bailey. Dex is a player. He’s going to break your heart, and if we didn’t care, we’d mind our own business.”

  She shot a resentful look up at him. “I’m a big girl. I think I can handle it without your interference.”

  Wade lifted his hands in defense. “Just sayin’…”

  She looked down at the bottle of tequila, shot glass, and the bowl of lime wedges he put down in front of her. Her anger deflated, and she felt instantly guilty for snapping at them. “I’m sorry, Wade. Thank you.”

  “It’s okay. Knock yourself out. We’ll make sure you get home.” Wade glanced at Ryan. “The natives are getting restless. You going back up?”

  “No, I’m not leaving Bailey to drink alone.”

  “I got her,” Mae said from behind them.

  Bailey knocked back a shot and grabbed a wedge of lime as she turned to greet Mae. “Come on, guys. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Ryan vacated his stool for Mae then looked at Bailey. “Anything special you want to hear tonight?”

  “Surprise me. I’m feeling pretty low, so make me smile.”

  Ryan’s mouth quirked up, and he nodded. “Easy.”

  A minute later, Bailey heard the crackling of Ryan’s mic. “We don’t usually play country music in this joint.” The crowd groaned. “But our Bailey needs a pick-me-up.”

  All the locals in the bar looked in her direction.

  “So…for Bailey.”

  She stared as the familiar notes of Lee Brice’s “Parking Lot Party” flowed from the stage speakers. As much as the crowd groaned when he said he was playing a country song, they cheered and jumped to their feet when the song started.

  Like everything that came out of Ryan’s mouth, it sounded perfect. Even the country twang was in tune. Bailey stared at him, not sure what to think. He was right; country music always made her smile, but when had he learned this song? He hated country music. All her friends hated it. Bailey started listening to it as a kid. It was something she’d shared with her father. He always had Hank Williams, Johnny Cash, or Willie Nelson on the radio.

  When a hand touched her arm, she turned from Ryan’s gaze.

  “Would you like to dance?” He was tall, fresh off the lake from the look of his tan, and his smile held the most dangerous pair of dimples she’d ever seen. No ring on an important finger, either. Too bad she wasn’t in the mood for trouble.

  “Thank you, but not tonight.” She waved him off with a faint sigh. “Tonight’s just about the tequila. Sorry.”

  He nodded his disappointment and walked away.

  “Good. You don’t need another tourist sniffin’ around,” Mae said. “Why are you here? I thought you’d be home getting some rest.”

  “I was supposed to meet Dex, but he just canceled.”

  Her eyes grew wide. “The son-of-a-bitch stood you up?” She wagged her finger at Bailey. “It’s time for him to go, babe.”

  Mae was Bailey’s business partner and closest friend, next to Ryan. They co-owned a boutique in The Village Plaza, an upscale shopping center on the Stateline.

  Bailey and Mae had decided early on to only sell merchandise from local designers and artists. It was a brilliant move. The tourists loved spending their money on authentic Lake Tahoe merchandise, and the community loved the local support. They named the shop Bailey Mae’s Gifts. Mae was the creative one. Her custom jewelry was a best seller, and Bailey relied on her to make everything pretty. Bailey was the businessperson and bookkeeper. She did all the number crunching.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for Wade to give you all the free liquor you want.”

  Bailey took another shot as the song ended, frowning at Mae. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because you’re only going to get into trouble.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not looking for trouble. Just numbness.” She gave Mae a good long look then gestured toward Mae’s sandal-clad feet. “So…what are you doing out tonight?” Seeing Mae in a cute little summer dress was a surprise. As an artist, Mae didn’t usually take the time to pretty herself up. She wore old jeans and t-shirts every day. Bailey liked her in grubby clothes. With five inches on Bailey, and built for the cover of a Victoria Secret catalog, Bailey could never have competed with Mae in the looks department. Mae’s shabby look kept them on even footing, at least. Mae’s long, black hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she looked sexy as hell without even trying. “I thought you wanted to stay in and curl up with a cup of tea and a movie.”

  Mae gave her a concerned stare. “Ryan called me. He’s worried about you. When I didn’t find you at your apartment, I knew you had to be here.”

  “When did Ryan call you? I didn’t know Dex wasn’t coming until a few minutes before you walked in.”

  “He wasn’t worried because of Dex.”

  Bailey looked up at Ryan, now singing “Truth Be Told,” one of his original songs. “I can’t believe he has such a big mouth.”

  “Bailey, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe your mom lied to you all this time.”

  Bailey leaned forward and rested her forehead on her fist. “I can’t either.”

  Mae picked up the beer Wade placed in front of her. “Being adopted isn’t the end of the world, hon. I know it hurts to find out something like this, but your parents loved you hard.”

  “Yeah, well, it gets worse.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mae scrunched her eyebrows together. “What else could there be?”

>   “They adopted me after finding me…” She stared at Mae’s confused expression. “I was abandoned by my birth parents—left in the snow to die. My dad found me in his side yard, next to the trash can.” Her voice went up an octave when she said it. She quickly downed another shot and prayed for numbness. She slammed the shot glass down and looked over at Mae’s wide eyes.

  “What the hell.” Mae stared at her for a moment. “That can’t be right. How could they keep that from you? I feel like everyone would know about it. Wouldn’t something like that be in the news?”

  “We’re from Wisconsin, remember? It was all over the news there. We moved here before I started kindergarten.”

  “Oh, right. Well, shit. You’re having a shitty week.”

  Bailey laughed, unable to help herself. “And then my boyfriend stood me up.”

  “I’m so sorry. Jesus, Bailey, go ahead. Have another shot.”

  Bailey poured another shot and knocked it back.

  “With the pile of discarded lime wedges in front of you, I guess it’s safe to assume you haven’t done any research yet.”

  Bailey sucked on a lime wedge then shook her head with a chuckle. “No. My only plan, for the time being, is to be a sad excuse of a human being.”

  Bailey reached for the bottle as Wade took it away. “Hey, stop. Bring that back.”

  “I won’t contribute to this pity party. How dare you sit there and whine? Hell, Ryan learned a country song just for you.”

  “I know. He’s great. Can I have my bottle back now? Please?” She batted her eyelashes at him, and the fact that her voice was already slurring didn’t escape her attention.

  “I’m going to ask Lucas to bring you some food. I’ll give this”—he waved the bottle— “back if you promise to eat something.”

  She put on her biggest fake smile. “I promise to cease the pity party and to eat. Please tell Lucas I’d love some atomic nachos. I can share with Mae.”

  Mae shook her head. “Hell no, I can’t eat that.”

  “Okay, tell Lucas to make them only half atomic. The other half can be wimpy for Mae.”

  Wade put the bottle back down. “I’ll tell him.” He grinned at her as he snatched one of her limes. “Watch this.”

  Wade stuck the lime wedge between his front teeth and sidestepped over about five feet to a pair of young women sitting at the bar with tequila shots. He winked at one of the girls as she downed the shot, then he leaned over the bar, and she sucked the lime wedge from between his teeth, ending the exchange in a heated kiss.

  “Uh, God, he’s such a slut,” Mae said.

  Bailey threw her head back, laughing at him. “But he gets away with it.”

  Mae rolled her eyes. “Only because he’s so hot.”

  Bailey perked up, lifting an eyebrow. “You know…”

  “Forget it. He’s not so hot that I want to be another notch on his bedpost. No, thank you.”

  “Ah,” Bailey sighed. “But what fun he would be.”

  “Yeah, well, that kind of fun is overrated.” She lowered her lashes. “I much prefer brooding and dangerous over fun.”

  “Yeah. I know. I’ve had to nurse all your bad boy heartbreaks, remember?”

  “Anyway,” Mae said, rolling her eyes.

  “Anyway,” Bailey repeated with a knowing chuckle. “I should go home. I’m not fit for the public right now. I only came in to meet up with Dex. I had no intention of getting sloppy drunk.”

  “I hope you’re done with Dex.”

  Bailey rested her head on the bar. “I don’t know, but I sure wish my mom were here to tell me what to do.”

  Mae tilted her head and rubbed her hand up and down Bailey’s back. “Oh, babe, I know you miss her.”

  Tears welled up in Bailey’s eyes, and she took a deep breath. “I’m so mad at her, Mae. How could she not tell me about this?”

  Bailey took another shot and sucked the lime before placing it in a neat pile on a cocktail napkin. Then she took another cocktail napkin and wiped a few spots off the high-gloss, cherry bar top.

  When Bailey lifted her head, she found Mae wearing an expression of trepidation as she watched Ryan on stage. Then she quickly turned back to Bailey with a sad smile.

  “What’s wrong?” Bailey asked, turning to Ryan.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just watching the show. Ryan sounds good tonight.”

  “He always does.”

  “I think he’s pretty upset about your mom, too.”

  Bailey sighed and looked back down at the pile of discarded limes. “I know. I’m trying to hold back with him. I don’t want him to be forced to take care of me when he’s grieving, too.”

  Mae snorted. “Good luck with that. He’ll go to his grave trying to take care of you. He promised Helen he would.”

  Bailey’s head whipped around. “He promised my mom he would look out for me? When? Why?”

  “When she was in the hospital. She told him she wanted him to have all her music and the piano, but she made him promise to always make sure you were okay.”

  “How do you know all this, and I don’t?”

  Mae shrugged. “He told me at the funeral.” She stared into Bailey’s eyes for a long moment, then blinked rapidly and said, “Your mom also said…well…” Mae waved a dismissive hand. “Ryan made it sound dramatic. I’m sure it’s not that big a deal.”

  “What, Mae? What else did she say?”

  “Ryan told me that Helen was scared for your safety. She seemed to think you were in danger—like you’d been threatened.”

  Bailey scoffed. “What the hell are you talking about? Nobody’s threatened me.”

  “I don’t know, Bay.” Mae shook her head in confusion. “Maybe Ryan misunderstood her. Maybe she was worried about you getting your heart broken.”

  “That must be it, right?” Bailey shrugged. “She wasn’t really thinking clearly near the end.” She frowned as the tequila slowed down her thoughts. “I knew Mom wanted Ryan to have the piano. She was like a mother to him, too.” She looked down into her empty shot glass. “When Cheryl died of cancer, Mom helped Ryan get through, taught him how to pour his grief into his music. The fact he’s so good just proves how hard losing his mom was on him. It makes me wish I had an outlet like that.” Her voice slurred, but that didn’t keep her from grabbing the tequila bottle and pouring another shot.

  “I never understood how the daughter of a music teacher didn’t have any musical talent.”

  Bailey felt a prickle on her scalp and scoffed at her own obliviousness. “That’s because I’m not really her daughter. I guess that should’ve been my first clue.” She downed the shot to fight back her tears.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bailey woke with hair in her eyes. She lifted her hand to shift the mess off her face and looked out at Ryan’s bedroom. She rolled over and slapped the empty spot next to her, then curled back into the fetal position.

  That’s when she realized she was only wearing panties.

  She shot straight up and grasped at the stabbing pain in her forehead. Her eyes shifted around the room, then the bed. Okay, for sure, she was alone, but where were her clothes? She peered over the side of the bed. There, in a heap on the messy floor, lay her tank dress. She threw it over her head and tugged it down, then curled back into Ryan’s bed.

  She fought the urge to look at the clock, but her instincts won, and she glanced up to read 9:48.

  “Shit.” She slapped the bed again and slowly lifted her head. Why couldn’t she be one of those people who had no trouble sleeping until noon? Why couldn’t she—just once—ignore the mess and go back to sleep?

  Like before, her eyes took in the messy room. “Ryan’s a pig. I know this. So why do I let it get to me?” she mumbled.

  She stood and stumbled to his bathroom. After she’d done her business, she started wiping out the sink. Meticulously, she placed all his toiletries back in the medicine cabinet where they belonged. She straightened the towels and felt proud that Ryan
had bothered to leave hand towels in his bathroom. She smiled indulgently. The boy is finally growing up.

  When she came out of the bathroom, she tripped over a pile of sheets. She gathered them up and dropped them in the empty laundry basket, then paused and looked at the bed. Her head tilted as she took in the clean sheets she’d slept on. “I can’t believe he changed the sheets for me.” She gathered the clothes scattered all over the floor and threw them in the basket, too, then pushed to compress the overflowing pile.

  After making the bed, she inched out of the room and tiptoed toward the kitchen, where she found Lucas and Wade having coffee.

  Wade grinned big and looked her up and down. “Walk of shame, huh?”

  “Don’t be stupid. You know very well I slept alone.”

  Wade was the youngest of the three guys who ran El Lago. They all lived together in a large house a block from the club. Wade was a player to the core. Just look up the word womanizer in the dictionary, and you’ll find a picture of him. It made her chuckle to think about him criticizing Dex for being a player; Wade hooked up with a different girl every night. Oh, but who could blame the women. Wade was charming, sweet, and he always had the perfect line ready. His smile would charm the pants off Mother Teresa, and his blue eyes, with those long, dark lashes, were impossible to ignore.

  He lifted a brow. “You didn’t have to. There was plenty of room in my bed.”

  “Gee, thanks for the offer.” She grinned sarcastically. “But I don’t sleep with men who have revolving bedroom doors.”

  They both laughed, and Lucas handed her a cup of coffee.

  “Thank you.” She cupped her hands around the warm mug, closed her eyes, and inhaled the perfect aroma. When she opened her eyes, they were both staring at her with a look that made her self-conscious. She sipped, hoping to hide her rising color, and with the first taste of Lucas’ rich, freshly brewed coffee, her headache melted away.

  “Sit down, and I’ll make you some breakfast,” Lucas offered, pulling a chair out for her. Lucas was the eldest of the three and the complete opposite of Wade. He wasn’t charming in a slick way, but lovable and easy to like. Always reasonable, and he had a ‘save the day’ attitude. Whenever there was trouble, Lucas was there with a solution. He had a little gray peeking out at his temples, even though he was barely thirty-three.