Midnight Memories

By Morgan Rayne

Brody Cranston needs a break. Time away from the demands of his rock star life, time to deal with his younger brother’s deployment, and time to figure out if the life he’s living is the one he really wants the world to see. His plan was simple, trick the paparazzi and hole up in a lake house alone for two weeks, no cameras, no bodyguard, no distractions from the music he loves. Easy. So imagine his surprise when on his very first morning of solitude, he’s met with a sweet angelic intruder who smells and taste even better than the basket of treats she’s carrying.

Even more surprising than the unexpected way she makes him feel?...this sassy intruder has absolutely no idea who he really is...

Still reeling from the loss of her mother and the perfect life she'd once had, Trinity Marrow is doing her best to move on, run her food truck, and heal from the secrets left behind.

But when the mysterious and sexy man renting her family’s lake house brings her body and heart back to life, Trinity realizes that maybe it’s time to step out of the shadows of her grief and live again.

But with the clock ticking down to his departure, will Brody be able to convince Trinity to take a chance on love before she finds out who he is, or will his lies and deception ruin everything?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Morgan Rayne
• Release date: Jun 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781370558674

Morgan Rayne

Being an author was always a dream of mine, one that seemed far reaching and unattainable, and then one day I decided to shoot for the stars and I'm glad I did. I have discovered things about myself during this process and absolutely love what I do. I get to share my stories and pieces of myself with people across the world, and I couldn't be happier. When I'm not writing, you can find me singing, dancing, or yelling at one of my favorite sports teams on the TV. That is, when I'm not cooking, chasing after my toddler, or toting my two girls off to one sport or another.

Book preview

Midnight

Memories

By

Morgan

Rayne

Smashwords Edition, Copyright 2020

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations and events described in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

Dedication

To every single person that over the last three years has pushed me to write, demanded I not give up, and who encouraged me with your kind words and constructive criticisms…this one is for you.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter One

Claire, I swear, I’ll be back in time for the fundraiser. I just need a week, maybe two, to try and work through this shit before coming back to L.A.

Brody Cranston propped his emotionally worn and tired body up against the back passenger side door of the rental car, his phone held tightly between his cheek and shoulder, his eyes mercifully drifting shut.

No one expects you to be okay, right now, Mercury, his manager, Claire, assured in a softer version of the sharp tone she normally used to rip him a new one. I just don’t understand why you can’t relax and get your mind right here?

You know why. He ground out, taking a moment to try and crack the stress from his neck. No matter what I do or how much I spend on privacy, in L.A., the vultures always find a way to get to me. I can’t even take a piss without having to worry about some pap with a drone hovering outside of my bathroom window.

"That’s why we found the place in The Colony. You won’t have to worry about being mobbed or harassed."

Brody’s eyes flickered to the window as she continued to drone on about security and exclusivity, at the sea birds that soared lazily through an endless clear blue sky, unbothered and unhurried, free to bob and weave through the breeze as they pleased.

How long had it been since he’d felt that way? A year? Maybe two? Longer? Whatever the answer, he knew that he’d earned this trip, earned the time and peace and solitude.

"Look, the house in the Colony is great and I appreciate you for finding it, but even if the community is guarded, people will still know I’m there. Every time I step out the back door, I’ll feel the long scope of a camera lens, hear the screams of Brock Mercury’s name instead of the waves against the shore, even if they aren’t there. He knew it wasn’t as bad as he made it out to be, that it only felt that way, but regardless he was holding firm to his decision. I’ve given a lot to Renegades Law over the last four years, I’ve sacrificed time with my family when they’ve needed me most, not to mention the endless parade of models and actresses that I’ve toted around town when we weren’t on the road, all so they could see and be seen with yours truly." A fact he still found ridiculous, not flattering, as he was so often told it should be.

I’ve earned this break, Claire. You know it and I know it. And the guys in the band know it, too, because aside from Lenny, the jackass, they’re all also enjoying a little R & R.

Okay, okay, I get it. You won’t hear another word about it from me. She finally relented. "I was just making sure because the Children’s Hospital PR rep called me about some questionable photos of you from over the weekend, and I had to do some very smooth talking to keep Renegades Law on the Anthems for Angels performance list. A list you were adamant you wanted to be on. I was just thinking if you were here it would be easier to keep you on the straight and narrow."

Brody grunted, then groaned, when the car hit a bump, causing his still throbbing head to knock hard against the glass of the back window.

What questionable photos? he asked, still rubbing at the abused flesh at his temple. Ramsey didn’t mention seeing any paparazzi.

After spending all weekend in New Orleans celebrating his little brother’s twenty-first birthday, Brody didn’t hold out much hope that said questionable pictures could possibly be misconstrued by the same bottom feeders that regularly reported he was the father of yet another love child, or that him and his bands mates routinely held drug fueled orgies in the back of their tour bus.

None of which was true.

But then again, he couldn’t really remember most of his and Shane’s time in the Big Easy either, soooo…

Most of them aren’t that bad; just cell phone images of Brock Mercury being Brock Mercury, she chided, the softness fading, which didn’t bode well for Brody or his aching head. But did you really have to make a body shot assembly line at the strip club? I’ve spent way too much time thinking about how that one held the glass … with her legs spread into the all-out splits.

Bet old Henry Ford didn’t have that in mind when he was cranking cars down the first assembly line.

For the first time since he watched Shane board the private jet he’d chartered for him, Brody cracked a smile.

"And if you really want to know, I could always stop back by and ask her. A talent like that could use someone with your managerial skills. Veronica the Vice Vulva. Name practically sells itself."

That earned him a dubious look from his bodyguard, Ramsey, who peered at him from over the top of his sunglasses in the rearview mirror.

I just threw up in my mouth. That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard. Claire paused, a cute little groan, the one she used when something truly frustrated her, filling the line. "Damn it, and now all I can think about is how that name would market for Vivid. You’re such a dick."

Aw, but you love me and my dick, he cooed. Both of us keep you in those thousand-dollar heels and sexy skirts.

"Keep dreaming, rock star. If it weren’t for me, you and the rest of the Renegade hooligans would still be playing in dive bars up and down the West Coast, not sold out arenas all across the States and beyond."

Fair enough, he conceded, more than appreciative for all the things the band’s manager had done for him and the rest of the guys in the band in the last four years.

Not to mention, all she’d had to put up with since.

The town car began to slow, bringing into view a statuesque two-story lake house elevated high above Lake Saint Catherine on a series of wooden stilts. The deep brown wood siding was rustic and inviting, homey in a way Brody hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Suddenly, the heaviness of his new reality began to settle back in, the emptiness he’d been feeling for longer than just the last three days eating away at him. He sighed heavily and reached for the worn to hell baseball cap he’d thrown on the seat beside him earlier, wishing he knew what it would take to fill the hole that had formed.

Ramsey parked in the gravel drive, the front windshield framing a pair of single man kayaks and a set of paddleboards hanging on the outside wall beneath one of what he could see were two wrap-around porches.

Hey, we just got to the house, so I’m gonna need to hang up, at least until I get settled. He held up a finger to Ramsey when he made to open the door, allowing him a rare moment of privacy. Listen, Claire. I really am sorry about the pictures, and the bitch fest. It wasn’t my intention to cause a scene. Hell, that’s why we came to New Orleans instead of going to Vegas. I figured we could fly more under the radar here. It’s just…with the news he got…

I understand, and I get it, believe me. Learning that your little brother is about to be deployed overseas couldn’t have been easy. This time her sigh was more affection than annoyance. Just do me a favor and avoid anymore strippers and all other bad decisions between now and the fundraiser, would you? Maybe use these next couple of weeks to figure out why it has been so important for you to start cleaning up your image and giving back even more than you did before.

He heard her words and took them to heart. And even though she couldn’t see him, he nodded. "I hear you, Claire. And I promise, other than a few too many drinks, in the comfort of this ridiculously large house, he added for her benefit, no more bad decisions will be made. I swear."

Good, she said, even though her tone implied she was less than convinced. And while you’re at it, there’s one more thing I need you to think over before you get back.

Oh yeah? What’s that?

Luna.

And as if his mood weren’t sour enough, hearing his manager utter that single four-letter name had him grabbing for his head again.

I don’t need to think about it, or her. I told you already, my answer is no.

But Brock…

No! This time it was him whose tone was sharp and unwavering. We’ve been over this, Claire. I don’t date people I tour with, none of us do, especially wannabe rock princesses whose idea of a good time is popping pills and grabbing onto whatever rising star she thinks she can sink her claws into.

Just the thought of having to pretend to be Loose Luna’s boyfriend made his skin crawl.

It’s bad enough I’m gonna have to put up with her for two months on the road. I refuse to plaster on a fake smile and pretend to like the girl, even if it is all for show.

Alright, alright, no need to get nasty. He hadn’t meant to, but fuck was he done talking about Luna LaRue. The woman was a disgrace to all the other rocker chicks that actually had talent and not just fake tits and a Barbie girl smile. Just figured it couldn’t hurt to ask since she and her agent are stopping by the office tomorrow to go over the final contracts for the tour and I know it will be brought up.

Well, you figured wrong.

He reached for the door handle, happy to let Ramsey retrieve his bags and guitar as he headed through the closest door, more than ready for a shower and one of those ‘few too many’ drinks.

Look, I’m sorry if I upset you. I’ll make sure I’m at the meeting tomorrow and that things are made very clear. Hopefully, that will keep her out of your hair when the tour starts up again next month.

Good, he said, putting an end to that unpleasant line of conversation. By the way, did you get everything set up for once Shane lands?

The pilot of the plane you chartered was already scheduled to make its return to L.A. after South Carolina, so I made the customary anonymous phone calls to the paps, and a car will be at the airfield awaiting its return, and then will drive to your place on the beach. And thanks to the armed security and underground parking, no one will be the wiser. For all intents and purposes, Brock Mercury will be back in the City of Angels by nightfall.

Sounds like you’ve got it all taken care of then.

What, you doubted me? she asked, feigning offense.

Never, he appeased, already feeling more relaxed knowing that his current location was a mystery to everyone except a select few. I’ll let you know for sure on my actual return ETA after I’ve had time to decompress and drown my sorrows. Maybe try to get a bit of writing done, too.

That sounds like a very good idea. The execs will be looking for new material after the next leg of the tour. But remember, no doing anything stu––

Stupid. I know. Again, Ramsey gave him that look when he made it to the top of the stairs. This time, Brody rolled his eyes, and added a single finger for good measure. Goodbye, mom.

Later, rock star.

The screen on his phone went black, so he slipped it into his jeans, just as the one in Ramsey’s suit coat pocket began to chime.

Ha! Your turn on the hot seat, Brody goaded, taking off his hat and tossing it on the dining room table that appeared to be made from reclaimed wood.

He ran his hands through his overly long hair; the tips of the strands just long enough that they tickled the skin above his shoulders, which were bare in the black tank he’d thrown on that morning in the face of the sultry Louisiana air. Even though it was nearly October, the heat was almost oppressive.

Hello, Claire. Ramsey’s less than thrilled voice filled the room.

Brody paused his perusal of the house momentarily, interested in hearing the coming exchange. The fact that it made him seem every bit his young twenty-four years didn’t faze him a bit. Some of the most normal times in his life over the last four years had been listening to Claire and Ramsey bicker like an old married couple, with him as their metaphorical child.

Maybe one day they’d finally breakdown and just screw the irritation out of one another.

Brody cringed at the thought.

Yes, I’m aware of the pictures.

Pause.

No, in fact, I don’t get paid to sit on my ass, but he is a grown ass man… Another pause, this one longer than the first. Last I checked, sweetheart, you don’t sign my paychecks, so, actually, no, I won’t do as you say.

When yet another bout of silence came, seemingly without end, he finally decided that Ramsey must have hung up on his sometimes overbearing manager––not for the first time––and finished his tour of the first floor, which included a gourmet kitchen with two ovens, a cozy living room that over looked the marsh and lake, two bathrooms, two bedrooms, and an enclosed sleeping porch with a set of stairs that led to the water.

Once he’d finished there, he began his climb to the second story, enjoying even more of the weathered wood accents and hints of coastal New Orleans flair found in almost every nook and cranny, as well as the abstract pieces of artwork found in each room.

When he finally reached the door that led to the master suite, a gentle breeze was blowing through the big, open windows, bringing with it that hot, muggy, magical air that only New Orleans could provide, causing the crisp white curtains to float hauntingly against the windowsill, like two ghosts dancing together in the sunlight.

The room was understated, which was a stark contrast to the accommodations Claire normally reserved, but all of the shiplap and carefully picked nautical accents were lost on Brody, who stumbled toward the huge four-post bed and fell face first into what may have been the softest comforter he’d ever felt.

He didn’t know how long he lay there before Ramsey made his presence known, dropping Brody’s bag near the dresser and propping his guitar case in the corner.

He approached the bed and handed him a bottle of water. Your manager is a real pain in the dick.

Brody kicked off his shoes and unscrewed the cap on the bottle, gulping down the cool liquid.

He wiped at his mouth and pointed the now empty bottle at the surly bodyguard. You know the old saying, when you pick on a girl, it means you like her.

His statement barely pulled a twitch from Ramsey’s hardened lips.

Instead, he reached for the empty bottle and handed Brody another, along with two pills. Take these and get some sleep. You look like shit.

Oh good, I was afraid I was only feeling that way.

His sarcasm hung heavy in the room, the rapidly darkening sky outside echoing his ever-darkening mood.

Ramsey stood silently for several seconds, a battle playing out in the depths of his sharp eyes, then he spoke, surprising them both.

I know what you’re going through, kid. That hole that’s opening up and getting bigger by the minute, it sucks and it’s hard, but eventually you’ll adjust and deal with Shane’s absence. He paused, as if he was weighing his next words carefully.

The two of them were relatively close, Brody would even consider them friends, but Ramsey wasn’t usually much of a talker, and he sure as hell wasn’t one to be vulnerable. It was what made him a good bodyguard. So if this big strong man was willing to let his guard down and offer up pieces of his earned wisdom, Brody was more than willing to listen; especially if it helped mend the bazooka sized hole in his chest.

Ramsey shifted uncomfortably in Brody’s peripherals, but eventually continued. As for the other stuff, I’ve watched you give yourself to the world for almost five years. You’ve signed every picture, taken every selfie, and even when you would have rather pulled out your own toenails than go, you’ve performed like a trained monkey for the cameras with whatever airhead bimbo your agent and manager have thrown at you.

Brody lifted his head, regarding his bodyguard with fresh eyes and wondering what had happened to this normally stone faced badass or who he may have lost that made him so wise and perceptive.

But Brody knew better than to ask, so he narrowed his eyes and asked instead, What’s your point here, Ramsey?

The other man merely shrugged, his tone returning to that deep no-nonsense baritone. My point is, you need this time. Not just to deal with Shane leaving, but to learn how to live your life on your terms, no one else’s. You know as well as I do that burn out is a real thing. And I, for one, would hate to see someone with your talent and creativity lose that spark all because you never learned to stop and take a breath, to say no. It would be a huge disservice, not only to yourself, but to the rest of the music world, as well.

And with that, Ramsey walked off, and Brody was left alone, truly alone, for the first time since they’d dropped Shane off at the private airfield just north of the city.

It wasn’t until he’d drained the second bottle of water and removed his clothes, allowing Ramsey’s lecture to marinate in his brain, that all of the emotions and fears that he’d been trying so hard to avoid came flooding in like a tidal wave, slamming into his chest and turning his stomach into knots, until it was as if he were truly drowning in the water he could hear lapping against the dock just below his window.

He tried to close his eyes, to fall into an exhausted, emotionally-induced sleep, but all he saw whenever he did were graphic, bloody images from every war movie he’d ever watched playing out vividly, as the words Iraq and bomb diffusion squad practically blared in his ears.

Fuck! he shouted into his pillow, kicking off the covers and storming into the bathroom, where he turned the shower up to near scalding.

But no matter what he tried, he couldn’t calm his fears, couldn’t erase his little brother, his best friend’s, face from all the wounded soldiers he and the rest of Renegades Law had visited on their first tour overseas.

Minutes passed where he did nothing but stand and allow the cascade of searing water to pour over his head and down his face, the tiny molten rivers migrating along his forehead and eyes, joining the salt streams of his tears, until it all just drained away, along with his remaining energy.

Forcing himself to get out and towel off before he well and truly fell apart, Brody stumbled bleary eyed back to the bed, and this time when he fell, exhaustion won out.

He was asleep before his head could even hit the pillow, the lack of alarms to be set or schedules to be followed the next day lost as he slid into the deep sleep of someone who’d gone far too long without it.

Chapter Two

Trinity Marrow had just pulled her final batch of double chocolate cupcakes out of the oven when her phone began to jump and ring in its cradle on the counter.

She eyed the device momentarily, the fresh treats suspended in the air, her hand getting warm inside the oven mitt from the heat of the tin, as she froze, debating what she should do. It was the same struggle she’d had every morning, and even a few afternoons and evenings, for the past six months.

She’d answered for that