Hearts on Fire: Romance Multi-Author Box Set Anthology

by Violet Vaughn

  His arms wrapped her more tightly. “Calm,” he said. “Focused. In control of my life. Which is funny, because I’m not in control of my life—not at all. I have no idea what comes next. But when I’m with you, I feel like that’s okay. I feel like… everything will work out in the end.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. You take your life so seriously. I used to think that was a bad thing—that it made you, and people like you, somehow stunted. Like you weren’t living life fully enough. I thought that as long as I kept moving, kept partying, kept being loud and wild, I was actually living my life, getting the most out of it.” He paused thoughtfully and kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think that anymore. You haven’t missed out on life by being focused and driven—not at all. You have everything I’ve always wanted—everything I wish I had now.”

  She laughed against his chest. “That’s hard to believe. A rock star envying an island girl?”

  “It’s true, though. I want a family like yours. I’ve never even met them—except for Storm, of course—but I already know they’re a real family, warm and loving and supportive. Who wouldn’t want that?”

  “They are pretty great. I won’t deny it.”

  “And you’ve found your calling.”

  “What, sailing?”

  “Don’t say, ‘What, sailing?’ as if it’s nothing! You’re magical when you sail. So smart and capable, so natural. It amazes me. It’s like you’ve got some kind of superhuman power.”

  She giggled again. “Anybody can learn how to do it. Really, it’s not that special.”

  “It is special, because it’s yours. And because you’ve made it more than just sailing—you’ve turned it into your whole life.”

  “But you’ve done the same with music.”

  Davis grew suddenly melancholy. She could feel his arms loosen around her and he sighed heavily. “Yeah… music. I’ll hate to give it up, but—”

  “What? Davis, you can’t give up your music!” She stared up at him, astounded. “It’s as much a part of you as sailing is a part of me.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Of course!” She blushed. Somehow, even after the passion they’d shared, it seemed almost too intimate to talk about Davis’s music—about the depth of vulnerability she had seen when he’d played by himself. But she forced the words out anyway. “When you played alone, out here on the bow, it was like I saw something in you that you’ve never shown to anybody else.”

  “You did,” he said softly.

  “It was amazing, Davis. The power you have when you play like that… from your heart, not the loud, thrashy stuff… I don’t think too many other musicians can do it. I don’t think there are many people out there who have a gift like yours.”

  “Thanks,” he said. His eyes shone in the moonlight. “That means a lot to me.”

  “You can’t give up music. It’s what you were meant to do.”

  “But I don’t know how to save The Local Youths. I can’t think of a single trick that can turn us around and get us back onto the charts. Sky Records will drop us for sure, and then it’ll be all over.”

  “What will your band mates do?”

  He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, they’ll all be just fine. They’ve each got a few side projects; they’ll get by and end up with new successes of their own. I’m the only one who has to worry. I’ve got nothing else going on.”

  “Why don’t you make something else—start a new project of your own?”

  He shook his head. “It’s just not that simple. There’s so much that goes into launching a solo career… if Tyler is already on the verge of dropping me, he won’t invest in some acoustic-solo act.”

  “I don’t know about that, Davis. He invested a lot just to give you a chance to figure out what you want from your career. A lot. Do you have any idea what he paid me to take you on this little sailing excursion?”

  “No,” Davis said cautiously. “How much?”

  “A hundred-fifty-thousand bucks.”

  Davis whistled.

  “It’s more money than I’ve ever earned on a single trip. But don’t you see? Tyler isn’t as hopeless as you think. He believes in you—he wants to keep you on the label. Why else would he drop so much money to get your head straightened out?”

  Davis scratched at his facial hair, his eyes distant with thought. “I didn’t know he spent that much. Maybe he really will be willing to try—to give me one last chance.”

  Jordan took Davis’s hands in her own. “See? You have to stick with your music. There’s so much power in your voice, so much feeling. A solo album will catch on. It has to. It just has to.”

  “It still feels risky to me. But I’m willing to try it.” His crooked smile sent a wave of warmth cresting in Jordan’s heart. “You know, I’ve even felt inspired to write some new songs, since I got a little more thoughtful and quiet, and really paid attention to the beauty of this place.”

  But he didn’t look out at the night-darkened islands as he spoke of beauty. He never took his eyes off Jordan’s face.

  Davis pulling her into his arms again. “Jordan, if I go back to my music and try to convince Tyler to invest in me as a solo artist… it’ll mean I’ll have to stay in Seattle. And I’ll be busy. I won’t have a lot of time to get back out to the islands.”

  A tiny hope flared in her chest. “You planned to come back?”

  Davis kissed her, long and deep, until she felt dizzy and breathless. When they broke apart, he said, “I did, and I do. But I won’t be able to come back very often. I’ll need to stay focused on my work.”

  “You’re so driven now,” she said. “Maybe even a little obsessed with your career? I guess I’ve rubbed off on you.”

  “I’m pretty sure I owe you some thanks for that. Have I had any lasting effect on you?”

  Jordan thought back on the overwhelming desire she had for him, the way he had loosed her from her tight-laced ways. Davis had shown her how to be free, spontaneous—even wild. “Oh, some,” she said. “Maybe a little bit.”

  But the smile slid from her face. “I’ll miss you, Davis. You changed me completely—for the better. I can’t go back to being the same old Jordan I was before. It’s like I know a whole other side of myself now, one that had been dormant forever. You woke me up—all of me—and I can’t just go back to sleep again.”

  Her words choked off. She drew a shuddering breath, clinging to his shoulders with a desperate grip.

  “I…” She couldn’t say it.

  Davis said it for her. “I love you.”

  Jordan pulled away and stared up at him. The starlight made his blue eyes glow. “You do?”

  “How could I not? You woke me up, too, Jordan—the part of me that was sleeping. Before, all I knew how to do was run from the future. I just wanted to live in my own past forever—I wanted to be stuck there, and never move forward. But now I’m different. I’m the kind of guy who can move ahead with a plan, and go after my goals.” He chuckled uncomfortably. “I think I can, anyway. I guess it still remains to be seen.”

  Jordan smiled. Happy tears spilled from her eyes. “You can. I know you can. And I love you, too.” Strange—when she finally said the words they didn’t feel the least bit odd or out of place. She had known Davis for not quite ten days—and had liked him for far less time than that. But she was certain the place he’d found in her heart was a permanent one, and no one else ever would fill it. “I can’t say goodbye to you, Davis—not forever.”

  “We don’t need to say good-bye. I have no intention of letting you go.” He tightened his embrace, as if to illustrate his point, and Jordan melted comfortably against him. “It will take plenty of time to restart my career with a whole new persona, and time to write all the new songs and record my first solo album. But Seattle isn’t all that far away. I’ll be back to see you, whenever work slows down enough that I can slip away. And if the music gods are good to me, I’ll have a big enough hit that I can eventual
ly take some time off from recording and touring. Then I’ll get my own place up here in the islands. Maybe then I can even slow down and learn how to enjoy the good things in life.”

  “You want to get a place here? In the islands?” The mere thought sent her heart sailing like the Coriolis with all its sheets raised.

  “Now that I’ve seen how beautiful it is here, I can’t leave this place—not permanently. I can’t leave this woman, either.” He kissed her neck. Jordan squeezed her eyes shut, lost in the bliss. “Will you wait that long, Jordan? Will you wait for me to get my life back on track, and turn my own boat around?”

  “I will,” she said at once. “Gladly. Like you said, Seattle isn’t that far away. I can come down to visit you, too, all this summer—whenever I have some time off work.”

  “So you’re going to stick with it? You aren’t going to close down your charter business?”

  “I think I’ll keep it going a while longer,” she said, grinning, and warm to her toes with satisfaction. She was making the right choice—about the business, and about Davis—she was sure of that. “I’ve come to regard my clients in a slighlty different light. I’m finding them a lot less unbearable these days.”

  “Just don’t give all of them the special treatment you gave me.”

  “Ha! None of them can compare to you, Davis. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  Suddenly he spun her around. They danced dizzily under the stars, both of them laughing.

  “I can’t wait for you to come see me in Seattle,” Davis said. “I can’t wait to tell Tyler about the solo project, either. I haven’t felt this inspired—or this confident—in such a long time.”

  “Do you want to put on some loud music to celebrate?”

  He stopped spinning and pulled her closer. “No. I don’t want anything but this—what I have right now.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Quiet, calm waters… and you.”

  20

  Davis woke with the morning sun streaming in through his cabin’s porthole. He blinked in the bright light, lying still as he readied himself, feeling a sense of focused calm spread throughout his body.

  It was the final day of his vacation, and he knew he was prepared to face Tyler that evening when he returned to Seattle—eager, in fact. A dozen ideas for new songs were already tumbling through his head. None of the new songs sounded a bit like the work The Local Youths had done in the past. These pieces, though still half-formed and unrefined, were of a new breed—and would be made for Davis Steen alone. So much about the new work remained sketchy in his imagination—the fragmentary lyrics, the partially realized chord progressions. Yet still, Davis could sense that the new material would build a strong, sturdy raft on which to launch his solo career. Even in their unwritten states, each of his new songs felt fully formed within his mind and heart. And why shouldn’t they feel that way? Davis had a gorgeous, dark-haired muse to guide him now, and her hand was always steady on the helm.

  He heard the rumbling of the Coriolis’s tender approaching across the water. Davis gently shook Jordan awake. They were both naked, having fallen back into bed after their tender confessions on the deck the night before. The lovemaking they’d shared on that second round had been even more intense than before—so powerful that Davis could still feel the sweet, burning thrill of it thrumming along his veins. Now that he and Jordan had admitted their love—now that they looked forward to their future together—a sea of passion seemed to flow between them.

  He kissed her gently on her soft, smooth cheek. “Storm and Emily are almost back.”

  Jordan rose and dressed without haste, without embarrassment. Davis joined her, touching her and holding her even as she pulled on her clothes. He was unable to keep his hands off her warm skin, her alluring form.

  “What do you think the crew will do when they realize what went on here?” he asked.

  Jordan only laughed, all shame at her own spontaneity gone. She said, “If either of them has a problem with it, I can always make them walk the plank. I am the captain, after all.”

  They went up on the deck together and stood waiting in the cockpit beside the great wooden wheel of the helm. As Storm and Emily climbed up from the tender, the first thing they saw was Davis and Jordan—holding hands.

  Emily’s big, blue eyes grew even wider. “Well! Looks like you two have set aside your differences.”

  “Looks like it,” Jordan said.

  The smiling crew set to work, readying the Coriolis for its final day of sailing. Jordan seemed more confident and self-assured than ever before as she took her place at the helm, calling out commands to Emily and Storm, gazing out across the water in anticipation of another day of sailing. Every time she caught Davis’s eye, she smiled—and she looked even more beautiful than she ever had before.

  “We’ll be back in Griffin Bay by four o’clock,” Jordan told her crew when the anchor was secured and the diesel engine was purring down below. “After we’ve seen Davis off, I’ll need your help cleaning up the boat.”

  “Can’t it wait?” Storm asked. “It’s been ten whole days!”

  “Yeah,” Emily added. “We can clean up tomorrow, can’t we?”

  “It can’t wait if we’re going to take on more charters. The season is in full swing now. There’s lots of sailing to be done, and lots more business to capture.”

  Storm cast a hopeful look at Emily, then said to Jordan, “So you’re not going to shut down the business?”

  “No, but you guys may not recognize your new captain,” Jordan said, laughing. “She’s a lot less stuffy. More… spontaneous. And maybe a little more willing to cut her clients some slack.”

  Emily squealed and bounced on her toes. “Yes! I knew you’d come around.”

  Davis put his arm around Jordan as the Coriolis nosed out toward open water. “I’m so glad you’re going to keep on sailing.”

  “Me too.”

  “It’s what you were meant to do.”

  She smiled at him, eyes shining. Then she kissed him, right in front of everybody.

  “Hey-o,” Storm yelled. “The captain has already gone wild! Hold onto your butt, Emily. This is going to be one hell of a summer.”

  “I can’t wait,” Emily said. “Hey, Captain, where are we heading today?”

  Jordan shrugged and grinned at Davis. “I don’t know! But raise the jib, you two—and get Davis up there to help you. Today we’re going wherever the wind takes us.”

  Davis hurried to join Storm at the lines. He hauled as he was directed, and with a sustained hiss the high, triangular sail at the front of the boat raised like a banner of victory against the bright-blue sky. It rippled in the breeze for a moment, then caught the gentle wind with a thump as loud and resonant as a bass drum. Jordan cut the engine, and the Coriolis leaned as it headed out over the sea, speeding toward the unknown.

  Davis let out a yell of pure exhilaration as the salt-laden wind whipped his hair and stung his eyes. He was flying, sure and fast, toward a bright horizon. Behind him, at the helm, he could hear Jordan laughing.

  Epilogue

  Jordan dropped into her reserved, VIP seat in the front row of the theater. Storm and Emily settled to her right, and her brothers Carter and West settled in the seats to her left. She sighed when her butt hit the seat. She hadn’t been back to Seattle for weeks, and she’d forgotten how much the busy, loud city stressed her out. She longed to be back in the marina at Griffin Bay, polishing up the brightwork on the Coriolis, tending to its lines and canvas. There was no comparable peace to be found here in the big city, but even so, Jordan wouldn’t have missed tonight’s show for anything in the world.

  A wildly successful summer had allowed her to invest more money and time in Sea Wolf Charters. She had added a new boat to her fleet, and three more crew members, too. But the new boat needed plenty of work before it would be ready for the upcoming charter season. It was March now—a little more than nine months since she had fallen in lov
e with Davis Steen. She had only three more months to get the new boat seaworthy. As she thought of all the work it needed, she bit her thumbnail and bounced her heels nervously against the theater floor.

  Emily leaned across Storm and said to Jordan, “Stop thinking about the new boat! We’re here for your boyfriend, so you are officially cut off from all business dealings—even inside your head.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about the new boat!”

  “You were, too. I can always tell when you’re thinking about boats.”

  Carter, Jordan’s twin brother, laughed mockingly on her left. “True. Jordan has a dead-giveaway Boat Face.”

  She punched her twin in his arm.

  West, second-oldest of her brothers, added, “She gets almost as googly-eyed thinking about boats as she gets thinking about Davis.”

  “Ugh,” Jordan said. “I’d punch you, too, but you’re too far away.”

  Despite her brothers’ teasing, she was glad they were with her tonight—and Storm and Emily, too. Davis had asked Jordan to bring her whole family to the concert—his very first show since going solo, and the big debut of all his brand-new songs, which would finally be available to the public tonight. The solo album dropped at midnight, and Jordan was sure she was even more nervous about it than Davis was. This was a big night for him—huge; the ultimate test of his career. If tonight’s show and album release went well, his future as a solo artist would be secured.

  Davis had worked so hard on the new material, and had focused so completely on the business side of his career that even Tyler had nothing to complain about. Sky Records was as confident as they could be that Davis Steen’s new lone-wolf persona would be a big hit. But the proof was in tonight: in this crowd’s reception of the concert and the album.

  As they waited for the show to start and Jordan tried to calm the butterflies swarming in her stomach, she thought about how sweet it was that Davis had wanted her whole family to attend. Over the nine months of their semi-long-distance relationship, Davis had relished his chances to get to know the Griffin clan whenever he’d come to San Juan Island for a visit. He had struck up a strong friendship with West, and his high coolness quotient had even earned Carter’s approval. He had charmed the socks off of Jordan’s mom and impressed her dad with his serious approach to his music career. The others had grown fond of him, too—Reed and Tabitha trusted Jordan to make good decisions, so they had taken an immediate liking to Davis. And Eden, the baby of the family, was instantly drawn to Davis just because of his profession. Eden had a distinct taste for adventure, and she assumed—rightly, Jordan had to admit—that a rock star attached to the family would provide plenty of new opportunities for wild times.