Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,95

she’d got her gear back on and he’d visited the men’s room, they’d held hands and walked out, only pausing to lock up. It had all seemed so … natural. It should’ve terrified her, but it didn’t. This was Kody. And he’d always had a piece of her heart even if he didn’t know it.

‘Come here.’ He sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. ‘I want to hold you.’

Her heart fluttered like a bird trapped in a cage as she did exactly that, fitting into the crook of his arm. She handed him his beer and they clinked bottles, content to sip on the boutique brew in silence. Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she stretched out her legs next to his. They fit on the sofa as well as they’d fit together at the roadhouse. Natural. Meant to be.

‘Thanks for standing by me tonight,’ he murmured, pressing a kiss into her hair.

Her heart swelled but she wanted to keep this light. ‘You know Ben E. King already did a song about that, right?’

He chuckled. ‘Yeah, I know. But I just want to let you know I couldn’t have faced my demons if it hadn’t been for you.’

Now she knew why he’d wanted her in his arms like this, her back to him: so she couldn’t see his face. His voice sounded tight with emotion and she wondered if this was the right time to ask him about those demons. She didn’t expect him to answer. He’d fob her off, change the subject, get back to banter.

‘I know how much performing means to you. It’s your life. So … what really happened at that concert?’

His arm flexed where it rested on her shoulders, tension coiling through his body. ‘It’s my fault those people died,’ he said, so softly she thought she’d misheard. ‘We have a designated fireworks expert on tour who really knows his stuff. The band just wants to play music, but our managers and promoters insist on the whole shebang these days so we have fireworks as part of our second set.’

He blew out a breath and continued, ‘Our guy was sick with gastro and a few of the guys wanted to scrap the fireworks. But I insisted we deliver for our fans, so agreed for the lead stagehand, supposedly a local expert, to set everything up. There was a malfunction apparently—an accident, and not his fault but …’

He shuddered and silence stretched between them before he spoke again. ‘That malfunction caused a mini-explosion and a fire. The fans panicked and there was a stampede.’ His voice hitched. ‘If I hadn’t insisted on those bloody fireworks, seven innocent people would still be alive.’

Tears burned the back of her eyes. He’d been shouldering the blame for those deaths. No wonder he’d walked away for a while.

She half-swivelled in his arms, not surprised to find his face pale and tension pinching his mouth. Laying a comforting hand on his chest, she said, ‘That firework malfunction could’ve happened any time, at any concert. You’re not to blame for it.’

He gave a half-nod, but his lips still compressed into a line. ‘That’s what the online psych said. I poured a lot of crap out and he helped me work through it.’ He covered her hand with his, pressing it against his chest. ‘But you did too.’

‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘Yeah, you did. You let me into Isla’s life. You didn’t judge me for being an angry, bitter guy doing his best to push you away. You trusted me with our daughter—’ He gulped, the sheen in his eyes matching hers when their gazes met. ‘You’ve always been special, Tash, I hope you know that.’

She could say so much. She could let every wild emotion bubbling inside spill over and terrify him as much as they petrified her. But nothing had changed between them. Now that he’d conquered his stage fright he’d leave sooner rather than later, but with a watertight custody agreement in his guitar case. An agreement they had to nut out before that could happen. Better to keep things light between them. Besides, it would make Isla happy to see her parents getting along. Though the part where they’d got physical would be kept under wraps. No point confusing the poor child or giving her false hope for some kind of reunion.

‘You’re an incredible man,’ she said, slipping her hand out from under his to cup his cheek. ‘And I’m glad you’re confronting your fears. But