by J. A. Coffey
“You know.” Jovie looks positively evil. “Things.”
Oh God, this is it. Desperate sweat trickles under my arms as I tug Liam away. “Yep. You got it, Jovie. The love birds need private time. Now.”
“Love birds?” Liam is slow to react, still puzzling out the animosity between the Jovie and me, both of us tugging at his sleeves like a pair of magpies over a shiny bauble.
Jovie’s expression turns sly. “Sure. Private time must be scarce these days, what with the ba—”
Eeep!
Before either of them can get another syllable in, I stand on my tiptoes and kiss Liam, drawing him into my arms and away from Jovie’s surprised exhalation. I try to make a good show of it and still retain my senses long enough for her to take the hint.
But kissing Liam has the exact reverse effect on me.
I struggle to stay upright as the warm, familiar slide of his lips on mine makes my brain fuzz out.
Liam moans and his kiss turns hot and possessive. For a moment, I lose myself in the taste of his tongue, like fresh mint and sweet memories. His arms wrap me tighter against the delicious, hard planes of his body and elicit a humming sound from somewhere deep in my throat. Me, who’s never sung more than a lullaby in my life.
My mind is reeling, settling on one simple fact—Liam is exactly what I’ve been missing. His kiss makes me feel drunk and dizzy and oh, I want it to go on forever.
Then I hear Jovie grumble, “Gross. Get a room.” The world rushes back.
I count the seconds in heartbeats before breaking off our kiss, waiting until I hear Jovie’s sharp footfalls recede on the concrete patio. Then I turn away from the love of my life, shaking like a woman four times my age.
“What the hell was that?” Liam swipes the back of his hand against his mouth. He doesn’t look aroused, not like me. He looks confused and…angry.
Suddenly I remember Ma’s warning that Liam can read me better than a sheet of music. My cheeks burn. I probably look like a total mess.
“Oh, you know Jovie. Serious case of the jealousies.” I press a trembling hand to my lips. Whew, that was a close one. Too close.
My body thrums with an undercurrent of desire. I’m aching to return to the symphony of emotions that drew Liam and me together, but it would be a mistake. Even if I could tell him about our daughter, he’d never forgive me for keeping the secret for so long. Would he?
He reaches out and pulls me hard against him. “I don’t care if you’re playing things up in front of Jovie or whether you really want something to happen between us, but the next time we kiss, it’s not going to be some fake thing in front of an audience.” His voice is deep and dangerous.
“Next time?” How can he tell I’m faking it? I’m totally faking it. My knees are trembling because my secret was almost exposed, not because Liam makes me feel things. Wonderful things. Sexy things. Love things.
The sensations make me scared and angry all at once.
His embrace tightens and I feel his lips brush the side of my temple. Then he lets me go. “What we’ve got isn’t for show.”
“I thought your whole life was about putting on a show,” I say and then immediately regret it when I see pain flare behind his light eyes.
Boy, I sure know how to kill a mood.
“My whole life was about you, Beth.” He shifts position, blocking me from the mounting breeze that blasts the pretty white luncheon tents and the ruffles the hem of my sundress. “I just kinda screwed that up.”
What he doesn’t know is we both had. But there’s no going back.
I’d just have to live with regret.
“I see they added a new wing onto the Conservatory.” He glances around. “Place is bigger than I remember.”
“It is.” I’m relieved the tense moment is over.
The Conservatory is really doing well, taking on more students than ever. Except me. I don’t exactly have the money right now, but I like to stay a part of the music community. I reach over to straighten the place setting on the nearest luncheon table, fighting the surge of emotions that threatens to break over me.
“We had some great memories here,” he says as we walk towards the newly-constructed wing..
He’d been a rebel percussionist dreaming of making it big and I’d played the violin and longed for a spot in the Seattle orchestra. I’d hoped we would settle down and have a family eventually, but I never imagined we would both get what we wanted so quickly.
And so separately.
“Have you seen your dad?” I ask.
“Ran into him yesterday.” His face is shuttered. “He’s the same.”
My heart clenches. “Sorry. Will you see him again?”
“No.” He’s resolute. “Not a lot of happy memories there.”
“Yeah.” But it kills me that he can cut off ties so easily.
I knew the gnawing ache that kept him from going over and finally showing his father that he’d made something of himself, despite his shitty upbringing. Probably better that he didn’t, but I still felt badly for him. Family should support one another. The closest thing to family that Liam had was my own.
“In fact.” Liam reaches over and brushes a strand of hair from my face. “Every good thing about Seattle is tied up with you.”
“Well, the past is the past,” I reply lamely, staving off the wish that things could be different. My pulse jumps at the base of my throat. “You’ve got an amazing future still ahead.”
As long as nothing clouds his way.
“I guess. I vowed I’ll never end up like my old man, but one of these days, he and I are going to settle things.” He sounds determined. While I’m glad he’s able to stand up to his father, I’m scared for him.
“Maybe things have already settled, Liam. You’re doing so well. You don’t have to sink back to his level, you know?” I wince. Here I am doling out advice like I’m some kind of authority.
It’s everything I can do not to gather him in my arms so we can hide out from the world, like we’d done before. But we can’t go back in time. I’m a mother now, and for the umpteenth time, I vow that Cadence will have a happy, loving childhood.
“I know.” He leans down, and I think he might kiss me again, but instead his warm hand slides over mine and he tugs me toward the front foyer. “Still a few minutes before I have to speak. C’mon, let’s check out the new classrooms.”
“What for? They’re probably empty,” I protest.
“So?” He tosses me that smoldering smile that makes me want to follow wherever he leads.
“Let’s go.” I laugh, and tell myself that it’s to keep him away from Jovie or anyone else who might tell him about Cadence, but deep inside, I just want to be with him.
Whatever the reason.
We run inside as the first drops of rain spatter the pavement like fat tears rolling from the sky.
“Drip, drip, drop, drop,” Liam sings that song from the Disney movie about an orphaned deer. But it’s cheerful, and his voice breaks the gloom.
“It’s not April, goofball,” I retort with a wide smile.
Laughing and whispering like a couple of sneaky teenagers, we run through the halls, his dressy wingtips and my wedges slapping on the polished floors, a haunting echo from years ago. He chases me down the hallway. The place is as silent as a library. By the time we stop, my heart is pounding.
“I haven’t been back here in forever, but it feels like yesterday.” I lean against the bulletin board of audition advertisements and try to catch my breath, but it’s hard when he’s standing so close to me.
“You still play, though, right?” His fingers stroke along my hand, making my pulse jump even more. “You were so good.”
“Um, sure I do.” If you called opening and staring wistfully at my instrument playing, then yes, I played. Kinda hard to hold a violin and a baby at the same time.
Still, today is inspiring. I’m filled with longing for more
than just Liam. I miss my music. Who knows? Maybe I’ll pick up the violin and practice later. Cadence might be old enough to love it, as long as the strings don’t screech like a cat in heat from my lack of practice.
Liam isn’t fooled. “Are you telling me you gave it up?” He lets go of my hand, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Not permanently.” I start walking back the way we came. “I got busy.”
“Busy doing what? You loved playing.”
“I loved a lot of things I’ve had to let go, Liam.” I catch his expression and feel like a jerk. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay. I was an ass for breaking things off like I did. You were the best thing in my life, Beth. Part of me still hopes that I was the best in yours, too.”
“You are. I mean, you were.” I blush. He had been, until… And I realize, I have to tell him the truth. It’s not fair—to him or to me. “Listen, there’s something you should know…”
The chime sounds from the bell tower across the street, and Liam recoils.
“It’s noon? Oh shit. I’m supposed to be presenting now. Come on!” He grabs my hand and leads me down the hall to the auditorium, with my unspoken confession ringing in my ears.
Chapter Four
Liam
The thing I love about drumming is that I control the pace. Whether I want to fire things up by thrashing out some heavy syncopation or cool down with an easy downbeat stroll on the skins, I set the stride by which my life moves. No one controls me anymore.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. That I’m in control. I mean, sure, DeSilva’s in charge of our concert schedule and he structured my contract payments in installments so the bulk of my money is invested, but still, I get things done. That’s why when our contract is up for renewal next month, I’m ready to sign again. Marco has a long-term vision and he makes things easy, so Zane, Finn and I can focus on the music.
But so far, nothing’s easy about my trip back to Seattle. Things with Beth definitely aren’t.
I can tell there’s something wrong, something she’s holding back. I’m hoping it’s just her mom’s alcoholism or money trouble and not the fact that she can’t stand me anymore. The fake kiss she planted on me says there’s more between us than she wants to admit.
Hell, I’m not sure I want to admit it, either.
“As you graduate, try to focus on things that are most important to you,” I smile at the assembly of high school seniors, just a few years younger than me. I feel decades older, though. Pretty sure I never had that wide-eyed, hopeful look on my face. I’ve always been the strong, silent type—the way Beth is now. I wonder if giving up her music did that to her…or giving up on me.
Thinking of her, I warn the students to take their music seriously to achieve their dreams. Things seem to be going well, including the fact that Beth is still standing near the back in that blue flowery sundress, listening to me and supporting me with her determined assurance.
The only “good” part of the good ol’ days.
She smiles at me.
I smile back, even wider than before. She blushes.
Yeah, definitely something there.
Too bad I’m only here for a couple weeks, while Finn gets married and honeymoons at some place DeSilva lined up. After that, we’ve got a slew of summer concert dates lined up. I should be thrilled, but something inside me wants to hang in Seattle a little longer, to explore whatever this is reawakening between Beth and me. That I want to stay in Seattle shocks the hell out of me.
I’m getting ready to finish my speech when a man in a suit comes in and whispers something to the Board Chairperson. They both frown and look right at me. Suddenly, a double-image of Marco DeSilva and my father flashes behind my eyes, and I forget everything else I was going to say. My throat locks up and I stumble for words. I’m left standing there, fiddling with the sticks in my back pocket, until someone shrieks a lyric from one of Wylde Ryder’s songs and the seniors go nuts, so it turns out okay in the end.
I’m glad it’s over.
And glad Beth’s still here…waiting for me. Just like she’d been there when I signed with DeSilva and when I headed out on my first tour. We’d promised we wouldn’t let anything tear us apart, but I’d broken that promise along with her heart. The fact that she’s standing here today amazes me.
“Whew, glad that’s over.” I wipe my temple with the back of my hand.
“You always could play to an audience,” she observes, toasting me with a glass of orange juice instead of a mimosa. I remember she doesn’t drink anymore. Her mom’s alcoholism must really be freaking her out. “They adored you.”
“Hardly.” I set my own drink aside. “Did you just pay me a compliment?”
Her sweet smile winks at me from the corners of her mouth. “Might have.”
After a stream of seniors claps me on the back and asks for photos, the Board Chair comes over to shake my hand. “Nice speech, Mr. Hensley,” he says. “We appreciate you making time for us on such short notice.”
“No problem. I enjoyed the hospitality.” I nod.
“I wonder…were you expecting another guest today?” he asks.
“No, why?” I wet my nervous lips. Beth frowns.
The Board Chair waves dismissively. “Some confusion at the registration table. Probably a member of the press trying to crash. No worries, we’ve got security on it. Enjoy the party.” He nods at us and we duck out the door at the far end of the hallway to escape.
“Weird,” I say.
“Who do you think it was?” she asks. “Some paparazzi?”
“Maybe.” Part of me wonders if it was someone else. Someone closer to home. Someone who promised to track me down again.
I squeeze Beth’s hand as we stroll to the luncheon tables, glad she’s here by my side. The buffet is pretty picked over. We get in line, put a few cursory carrot sticks and cheese cubes on our plates, and find a private place to sit near the parking lot.
Thankfully, people leave us alone, even Jovie Janssen who is glaring at Beth behind her back, but smiling when she catches my eye. I worry that we’re completely surrounded by fake people, but the clouds break up and Beth seems to be enjoying my company, so there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. By the time the event is over, the rain has stopped.
“Hey, Beth.” Jovie strolls by our table as the luncheon draws to a close. “I’d love to host a party at your Mom’s pub. Something just for our graduating class, maybe?”
She’s gunning for a private appearance with me, and it irks me. Beth nods.
“We don’t open for guests until four.” She bites her lip. “We could do something in the afternoon, once our kitchen repairs are complete.”
Jovie tosses us a satisfied smirk, and I know she thinks she’s won. “You’ll be in town for a few weeks, right, Liam? Is there room in your busy schedule for me?” she wheedles.
“If Beth’s hosting, I’ll make time.” I lean back and cross my arms. Jovie’s smile slips a little, but she’s determined to put on a good show.
“Great,” she says with false brightness. “I’ll be in touch, Beth.” Her shoes make clickety sounds on the concrete as she leaves.
“I guess that’s it.” I crumple my paper napkin beside my untouched plate. “Lunch is over.”
“Yeah.” Beth’s eyes dodge mine. She seems to be waiting for something.
I don’t want to leave. I haven’t felt this way in a really long time, and I like it. My throat gets tight, and I realize that I want to go out with her. I want to be with her the way we used to, back when music was the most important thing in our lives.
Our hands lace together automatically as we head to the parking lot. I don’t want to go back to the hotel—not that Beth isn’t supremely hot and I’m dying to kiss her again, but the room would be packed with the guys in the band, roadies, and industry pros DeSilva has
lined up for us. Besides, Zane and Finn have been squabbling over stupid shit lately, which makes me tense.
It’s not fun, and I desperately need a break from it all. Like today.
“This was fun,” Beth remarks, almost as if she can read my mind.
“Yeah.” It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself at a social event in Seattle. At any social event, really. Even ones with catered in mini-quiches and mimosas. I’m more of a burger and fries guy.
We pause in the parking lot where I stop alongside the flashy rental BMW that DeSilva insisted I take today when I refused the record label’s car and driver. The city streets are washed clean after the rain, and for once, it looks like the clouds are lifting. Standing next to Beth, I’m hit with the feeling that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be—Seattle and all.
“What a trip down memory lane.” She sighs and looks as if she might be stalling. She’s not moving toward the bus stop, and even though I’ve got wheels, I can’t offer her a ride home. Not yet.
“I kept all my memories of you. Every single one of them.” I can’t stop staring at her.
Her scent is freshly cut grass and laundry softener. Sweet, clean and unmistakably Beth. I’ve been shuttled to a dozen cities in the past few months, and no matter how many nights I pass out in a haze of booze and butts, I wake up each morning with the taste of her on the back of my tongue.
“Flirting again.” She smiles, but then something happens and it fades. She checks her watch. “It’s afternoon. I should probably go.”
“The day’s not over yet. Not if you don’t want it to be.” Three million fans clamoring for my attention worldwide and I’m shaking like a leaf at the thought of asking her out.
She makes a noise of agreement. “I didn’t realize how much I missed all this.”
This or me?
“Maybe we should do something about that,” I suggest. “Go out with me.”
Her stubborn chin juts forward. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?”
Too late? I don’t know what drew me to the Auld Rogue last night or why I’m so interested in hanging around Seattle. A subconscious need to see her, to know she’s still there for me if I want her.
