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Summer With The Rock Star (Blue Bay Beach Reads Book 2)

Page 6

by Ellie Hall


  She wasn’t ready or interested in revisiting the past, which was what she did every time she played her own songs.

  As she padded down the hall, a familiar scent of cologne tingled her nose and set her nerves on fire. Maybe the past was revisiting her. Claudia’s breath caught in her throat and her head suddenly ached. She leaned against the dark wallpaper as the room started to spin. The smell brought with it memories she’d tried to bury.

  At that, Claudia rushed to her Aunt’s room. Inside, she found Margot breathing softly, sound asleep. The mansion was otherwise still, silent. Claudia let out a long-held breath. It was probably just fatigue and stress. It had been a long day.

  After returning to her room, Claudia fell into a restless sleep, awash with dreams of wild getaways, the ocean, and Carter.

  The next morning, she got ready and went to work after leaving her aunt a fresh arrangement of flowers from the back garden and a note because she was still resting.

  Claudia had the opening breakfast shift and sure enough, Carter was her first customer. He sat at the counter seat closest to the window. He wore a baseball cap and sunglasses that he must’ve picked up from Blue Bay Beach Supplies & Souvenirs because the tag hung from the back strap.

  She plucked the price tag off and set it on the counter. “Now you only look slightly less like a tourist.”

  “That’s the idea,” he said in his irresistible British accent.

  “You’re hidden in here in the corner and half behind the soda machine. I doubt anyone would recognize you.”

  “You’d be surprised.” He harrumphed. “When are you done with your shift?”

  “What do you want to order?”

  “I asked a question first.”

  “I thought I was the one doing the interview.”

  “Oh, right. You’d like a glimpse into my lifestyle, eating habits, and the like. When the camera isn’t rolling, I’m afraid you’d get very bored. Anyway, remember what I was saying yesterday. Wilde is retiring.”

  “Is that so? What about Carter?” she asked.

  “This is a new chapter in my life. I’m not sure what it’s going to look like.”

  Even though he wore sunglasses, she got the distinct sense he was looking right at her. Heat crept up her neck and she shifted from foot to foot. “What was it you wanted to order, Carter?”

  “I’ll need a few more minutes with the menu, love.”

  He was infuriating. Never mind that even when he spoke the simplest of words his voice was like velvet. Even hidden under his Blue Bay Beach gear his handsome good looks were obvious by the cut of his jaw, the lushness of his lips, and the tilt of his smile.

  Even as Claudia hustled to keep up with the morning rush at the restaurant, having Carter Wilde-Westcott sitting in the corner was a giant, distracting tease.

  She couldn’t resist him. It was like he was a magnet and she was metal. “Did you decide what you’d like to order?” she asked after returning to him begrudgingly.

  He nibbled his bottom lip in a way that sent tingles shooting through her.

  What had happened overnight? The day before she had no trouble resisting him—for the most part. She staggered back. A dream she’d had the night before returned the way they sometimes did, randomly, jarringly.

  The dream had picked up where they’d left off by the Sandy Shore Inn when he’d leaned in, when he’d said that he wondered whether the feeling was mutual. Only, in the dream, much like she had when she’d asked him on a date, she made the move. She leaned in and kissed him. Then she’d said Yes, the feeling is mutual.

  It was right then, staring at the sea and with her order pad aloft, loose pieces of her hair in her face, and the morning rush of visitors and locals looking for breakfast that she was sure her dream was accurate.

  The feeling was quite mutual. Claudia liked, maybe more than liked, Carter. But she wasn’t about to admit it.

  “I’ll take the Pina Colado smoothie, please.” He closed the menu.

  His charming, accented voice flooded her senses. He’d taken off the sunglasses and his gray eyes captured her sensibility.

  She was smitten, enamored, captivated.

  But it didn’t make sense. They hardly knew each other. She didn’t like Wilde. That was because she liked Carter, but who was to say he was honest, true, and would stick to his resolve about leaving his wild ways behind?

  As the morning wore on, Claudia goofed up several orders, sent a plate of ham and eggs to a customer who’d ordered pancakes, forgot to deliver waters, and was generally off her game.

  When the Pina Colado came up, she was glad to give him the drink and get him out of there.

  “A bit distracted today?” Eisley asked with a wink. She’d certainly had her moments of distraction whenever Ford paid a visit to the restaurant, but when he brought Coco no one seemed to mind if she forgot a drink refill or flubbed something up because they all adored the little girl.

  Eisley teased her a bit more, but Claudia deserved it—she was distracted as Carter remained in his seat reading the newspaper, doing a crossword puzzle, and fooling around on his phone until her shift was over.

  He waited at the end of the dock.

  “Funny, meeting you here,” she said.

  She wouldn’t mind throwing him overboard right then. Her tips had been considerably lower that day and since she couldn’t find the money missing from her aunt’s account, she was going to have to start liquidating Margot’s assets to pay the bills, but in the meantime, they needed to live off her cash from the restaurant.

  “Funny meeting me here? Well, I haven’t left.” He stretched his arms overhead, revealing a slim bit of skin and remarkably defined abs.

  “Yeah, I know.” She practically choked, once more distracted by him when in reality she had no time for that. She tried to talk herself out of it. She was just smitten by him, enamored, and infatuated with the tall, swarthy Brit along with every female between the ages of fourteen and eighty. Probably including Aunt Margot, which would put his demographic up toward women nearing their nineties.

  “So what do you want to do today? So far I’ve had the best morning I’ve had in a long time.” He wore a lopsided grin that did not help her case.

  “How did that make for the best morning you’d had in a long time? You just sat there.”

  “Exactly. I can’t remember the last time I did nothing. No calls, no meetings, no interviews.”

  Claudia sunk back. “Does that mean our interview is off?”

  “No, it’ll be my first one as Carter and possibly my last one. I want out of the limelight.”

  “But it’s unofficial. I’m not going to tell the press or post it online or anything. It’s just for my professor.”

  “Thank you.” His smile was genuine.

  “But what do you mean about it being your first or possibly your last interview?”

  He shrugged. “I’m going in a new direction.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Does your management know?”

  “Absolutely not. This is all me, love.”

  Again, that word in his dreamy voice sparked something inside Claudia. She checked her watch. “I have to go—take care of my aunt.”

  “I can be helpful.”

  “No, let’s meet later.”

  “Where?” he asked that time.

  Claudia shrugged.

  “How about dinner?” he suggested.

  She tilted her head from side to side. “I don’t know.”

  Carter squared his shoulders and faced her. “Claudia, this isn’t a dare or an initiation, but I’d like to have dinner with you. Will you go on a date with me tonight?”

  A smile slowly bloomed on Claudia’s lips despite her best efforts to resist it. Before she could stop herself, she answered, “Yes.”

  Chapter 8

  Carter

  Carter had asked Claudia, the most gorgeous, talented, and strong woman he’d ever met, on a date
. A real date with the real him. His body jittered as he roamed around the quaint beach town, humming to himself. Being with her made him want to be better, to do better. Never had he felt such drive, such inspiration, or as alive as he did then.

  He found himself wandering down a palm-lined path that opened to a private cove. No one was around. The air was thick with the heat of midday. He tossed off his hat, sunglasses, shoes, and shirt then plunged into the crystalline water. Closest to the shore it had been warm, but as he swam deeper it chilled, invigorating him. He whooped and the sound echoed across the blue sea, doubling back to him like a boomerang.

  Sitting in the restaurant with Claudia nearby and doing a whole lot of nothing was a nice way to begin the day. Then asking her on a date and rushing into the water punctuated it with a sense of perfection that he only imagined would get better when they went out to dinner that night.

  He’d learned that she’d lived in Blue Bay Beach for about a month so likely it was still new to her. He’d have to figure out what they’d do. He thrust himself backward in the water and floated there, reviewing the mental map he’d made of the town so far. He could rent a boat and they could go for a cruise—though he’d need more cash for that and the ATM at the local bank limited his withdrawals each day. He didn’t want to use his credit cards because that risked being recognized and traced.

  As he pondered spending more time with Claudia, the sound of his phone ringing came from the shore. It split the peaceful silence. When it continued to ring, he trudged out of the water and stood for a few minutes to dry off before checking to see who’d called.

  He listened to the message—the third he’d received in as many days about his sudden disappearance. There were a few texts that he’d missed reminding him about The Wilde West tour starting in the fall.

  Carter dropped onto the sand. He was done with the act and realized he had been for a long time. But what troubled him the most was that by letting it go, he was forced to reflect on his brokenness and the circumstances that made him go along with the whole charade to begin with—it felt difficult if not impossible to face the past.

  After Carter returned to the inn to freshen up, he had a few hours before he was to pick up Claudia. He didn’t have any instruments to fool around with, but he had an app on his phone that he could use to create music. It wasn’t as good as the real thing, but he was met with sudden inspiration and couldn’t let it slip through his fingers. He’d been recording some song ideas on his phone too and was pleased with what he had come up with, inspired by the relaxed coastal town and the woman with brown hair and eyes who lived there.

  Later, he picked up an outfit from the boutique in town, luckily without being recognized. There was a moment when the salesgirl looked at him a second longer than was comfortable. He thought for sure that his cover was blown, but she simply bagged up the clothes and thanked him for stopping in.

  Wearing flipflops with a pair of trousers and a button-down shirt, Carter walked down the sand-strewn street toward Claudia’s aunt's mansion.

  At the gate, he was buzzed in. Claudia waited for him in the foyer with a shy smile. Her long hair was styled in loose curls and she wore a pair of jeans and a white knit sweater that reminded him of a fishing net. She looked beachy and stylish and downright beautiful.

  Without thinking, he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek by way of greeting. However, his lips barely brushed her soft skin when she pulled away. He wanted to get lost in her abundance of hair, in her floral gardenia scent. He thought maybe her aunt had appeared and would be disapproving, but it was just the two of them. Maybe she wasn’t ready.

  Carter was patient.

  “So, where to?” she asked.

  “I was actually going to ask you as the resident expert.”

  “Hardly an expert. Actually, Coconut Cove is the only proper restaurant in town. Well, there’s the snack shack down at the other end of the beach.”

  “Do they serve milkshakes?” he asked, recalling her comment when she’d waited on him the first time.

  She nodded.

  “We’re both wearing flipflops. So when in Rome or Blue Bay Beach, shall we be beachy?” He extended his elbow.

  She linked her arm in his and she started toward the door.

  “I rather like the idea of us being casual. You know, no pressure for our first official date. But I’d feel rude if I didn’t ask if I can meet your aunt.”

  “Actually, she’s sleeping.” Claudia gazed toward the grand staircase. “She’s been sleeping more often than not lately.” Worry laced her tone.

  “We don’t have to be gone long or you can always call to check on her.”

  She nodded and they left on foot.

  The snack shack was a retro, quintessentially American burger and fries place. They also served onion rings for an extra few dollars. The highlight was the twenty-four different kinds of milkshakes.

  After eating, they each sipped, or rather, slurped, their frozen desserts.

  “Want to try the mint chocolate?” he asked, angling his cup toward her.

  She passed him her peanut butter banana drink while taking a sip of his. “Mmm, delicious.” She closed her eyes.

  “I hope you don’t have milkshake regret because if you do, you can finish it.”

  “Thanks. But I’ve always been a peanut butter anything kind of girl.”

  “Tell me more about what kind of girl you are. Favorite color, book, movie...” he said, echoing her inquiry.

  “I thought I was the one who was supposed to do the interviewing.”

  “This is a date, remember?”

  They walked down the beach and swapped all the favorites they could think of—candies, vacation spots, movies, actors, songs, bands, and more.

  Claudia shivered as she took the last sip of her milkshake. Carter extended his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

  At first, she felt stiff, resistant, but he wouldn’t give up unless she asked him too. He sensed she was fighting with herself over whether to trust him. They took a few more steps and she soon melted against him. He wanted to stay like that, by the seashore in the sleepy little town where no one but her knew him, but she prompted them to continue on. Soon, they were on Mansion Mile and she entered the password on the keypad to her home.

  He lingered there, wanting to kiss her goodnight, but she was already passing through the wrought iron gate. He lifted his hand to wave goodbye.

  “Come on,” she called.

  With a lift to his step, he followed her to the mansion.

  She got them both glasses of water. Then leaving him in the sitting room again, she went to check on her aunt. When she returned, she went to the piano and sat on the bench. Without a word, she played one of Mozart’s sonatas. When she neared the end, he joined her on the bench and led the duet for Sonata in D Major.

  It was like they could communicate without words, just sound.

  They were harmonious, perfectly in sync as they moved up and down the keys. Carter nearly made a mistake and threw his head back in laughter, but they carried on. During a complicated part, their eyes locked as though spurring each other on before returning their focus to the ivory keys.

  Carter hadn’t played classical music in a long time, but it came back to him like riding a bicycle. What he wasn’t entirely familiar with was the deep welling of emotion that came over him when he was with Claudia. It brought him joy, made him feel alive, and he didn’t want the song to end. So instead of letting the keys ring out, he shifted into the retro song Rock Around the Clock. She joined right in and soon they were both laughing and singing along.

  By the time that song was done, his fingers were stiff, but they found hers. She beamed a smile. A deep, resonant humming came from inside of him and warmed him through.

  Not leaving the bench, but turning to face each other, they chatted for a few minutes about the pieces of music. She then told a few stories about school at the conservatory in San Francisco. Although she was cla
ssically trained, they both understood the universal love for combining notes and vibrations to make sound and song. They understood each other and they were close, so close.

  Carter played with a loose piece of Claudia’s hair. “Music and performing live is like traveling to the moon except it takes away the gravity of thought and there is sound, the taste of air ripping through my lungs, the scent of sweat and effort, connection and so much movement. It's the suspension of my mind. It is freedom.”

  She paused a beat as though thinking. “What are you trying to break free from?” she asked.

  “The past.”

  “Me too.” She wore a sad, resigned expression that pulled at the corners of her mouth.

  “I’ll tell you if you tell me. If you want to...”

  She shifted as though conflicted then cleared her throat. “Before I turned ten, life was tough. My father was violent and left us.” She twisted the watch on her wrist. “My mother was an alcoholic and had diabetes, which is really dangerous.”

  “And your aunt?”

  “She rescued me. She believed in me. She adopted me.”

  “I’m sorry you ever had to go through that.”

  “I’ve never told anyone.”

  “No one?” he asked, shocked.

  She shook her head.

  “Does the watch have anything to do with your mother or father.” He noticed she fiddled with it whenever she was uncertain.

  She lifted her eyes to meet his as though surprised he made the connection. “It was my father’s. I wear it as a reminder that at any time either one of them could come back and make my life miserable again.”

  The fact that she lived with that kind of fear caused his chest to ache and his jaw to tense. “And that helps you how?” The question came out rough, but all he wanted to do was free her from that kind of agony.

  “It keeps me on my toes and reminds me to be grateful for each passing day that I am free.”

  “You’re an adult. You’re free if you want to be. Your father can’t come back and cause you trouble.”

 

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