Anything But Mine

CHAPTER ONE





Fifteen years ago, if someone had told him that a city boy from Los Angeles was going to fall hopelessly in love with a small town in upstate New York, he would have eaten his American Music Award. He stepped down out of his truck and let the wall of heat envelop him. Grass crunched under his flip-flops.

Logan King’s adopted hometown, Winchester Falls, was tinderbox dry. The entire drive up from Manhattan he’d heard warning upon warning for campers to avoid open flames for the holiday upcoming weekend. And the way Main Street was looking, he’d have to agree.

He crossed the road to the park where feather soft green grass teased his ankles. Compared to the rest of the grass lining the sidewalks, it seemed as unnatural as AstroTurf. But even if the county was in a drought, Mayor Darcy would have the park looking like the cover of Small Town Living Magazine.

Of course, the only magazines he noticed had an entirely different sort of cover. Gloss and skin, whom was kissing—or worse—whom, and who was being chased down by the paparazzi.

And that was precisely why he was in town a full week earlier than expected. His manager was on his ass to get in front of the cameras again. Heaven forbid he lose his status in the upper echelon of the paparazzi’s most wanted lists. Or more importantly, that his shots went for anything less than top dollar.

Twitter trending lists, billboards, concert venue banners, and the dreaded magazine covers were his bread and butter. Being a millionaire a hundred times over put him in the spotlight far more than he’d like. Being the lead singer of All the King’s Men made it a prerequisite.

His was there to do a one-on-one with Kim Forrester from Music Life. He’d have preferred to do an interview at his place in the city, but they needed promotion for the Summer Festival. What did it matter that this place was his only respite from the never ending reach of the telephoto lens?

Here, there were no reporters waiting to ambush him around every corner. There were no socialites with twisted agendas. Here he was just Logan in the cabin by the falls. He might be a celebrity, but this town was just as happy to leave him alone as he was to stay MIA.

Now that was going to be tainted because he had a job to do.

And he always did his job.

With a sigh, he followed the voices toward the center of the park. He climbed half-built stairs, dragging his palm over the bare wood. Weathered pine railings strung with fat white lights framed out a huge octagonal gazebo. A stage was built to cap the stairs and make the intricately designed structure the jewel of the Summer Festival. It was his favorite part of the stage.

This place was his one constant. He’d played Madison Square Garden, Red Rocks, every dive club and glossy rehabbed place on the Sunset Strip, but none held as much significance as this little stage.

He looked forward to playing it every summer. No matter how packed his schedule was, he put aside the last weekend in August for the Summer Festival. Always gave back to this town.

But now his stage was covered in cameras and wires. Music Life’s crew took pictures and set up both a stationary camera and guy with a mobile rig. The mayor was holding court with her little underling, Kevin, at the ready.

Don’t panic. Don’t run.

He took another step, his insides cramping at the couple dozen fans herded along the side of the stage. She wasn’t here. This place was too small town for her.

It didn’t stop him from scanning every face.

Someone spotted him and he switched on his social smile. The almost smile that photographed well. The one that sold papers and left shrieking fans in his wake. But it was also a mask. If they knew the real Logan, they’d never leave him alone. The tabloids already salivated over him. If they knew about the little voice that ramped up the panic, they’d descend on him like a pack of wolves.

And he’d never let that happen.

So he kicked up his smile and held a hand out to the producer who crossed the stage to him. His name slid into place as easily as a chord progression. It was his gift and one of the reasons he’d gotten where he was today.

“Steve, thanks so much for making the trip out.”

“I don’t know what brings you back out here every year, Logan. This is a speck of nothing in the middle of the goddamn wilderness.”

His speck, his perfect oasis. The fact that no one understood that made it even more apparent that he would always need Winchester Falls. Whether his net worth was one thousand or one hundred million dollars, it didn’t matter. This was home.

But that was for him and not the world. He slapped Steve’s arm. “I like to give back and the bands I have coming in are more than worth your drive out.”

“Yeah, they are, especially Lindsey York. When is she arriving?”