Timeless Vows: Five Tales of Love (Timeless Tales Book 4)

by Ruth A. Casie

  Her face had lit up and the sunburn she’d gotten on her nose made it shiny. “Big, strong Marine…fluffy poodle? What’s wrong with this picture?”

  “Well, she belonged to Danny, and Marissa wanted to send her to the pound. I had no choice but to take her in.” He shrugged to make his words seems casual, but he’d grown to love the dog.

  A flash of anger shone in Tara’s eyes. “Again, I state, that woman is a bitch.” Tara bent down and hugged Lolita, then gave her a kiss on the nose. “Oh my. Aren’t you a doll.”

  When she got steamed she became sexier, if that were possible. Settle down. He cleared his throat and brought his thoughts and body under control. “You thirsty?” At her nod, he headed to the kitchen to cool off—in more ways than one.

  When he came back, he found her admiring the floor-to-ceiling windows, which overlooked the endless woods. Tara touched every surface of the oak walls, the ledge where he kept photos of Danny, his folks, and his Corps buddies.

  “You didn’t tell me you have a piano.” Tara motioned to the black baby grand.

  “It was here when I moved in. Can’t vouch for how it sounds, but I like the way it looks.”

  “Do you mind?” She pointed to the piano bench.

  “Be my guest.” He placed her water bottle on the top of the piano then sank onto his one indulgence—a large sectional, which practically wrapped around the entire room. The soft brown leather helped keep him cool in the summer heat.

  His chest hitched at the first stirrings of the music. The slow melody was a mixture of sultry lows and sexy high notes. Jeez. He swallowed hard. Tara’s face showed pure delight. She’d closed her eyes and let her fingers flow.

  He wished it were his body she caressed and not the ivory keys.

  He finally found his voice once the song faded to its end. “You’re amazing. What was that?”

  She rose and smiled shyly before sitting next to him, trying to smooth the wisps of hair sticking out all over her head. “‘From This Day Forward.’ It’s the track I won the Grammy for.”

  “I can see why.” He placed his arm behind her on the soft ledge of the couch and she moved an inch closer. “So what do famous musicians do for fun besides reciting every US president when a snake slithers by.” He teased.

  “Very funny.” She laughed. “Sometimes when I get spooked, I do the president thing…”

  He had to give her credit—even though she was clearly uncomfortable in the woods, she’d done her best trying to keep up with the rest of the group. “I’m just teasing. But seriously, do you have lots of famous friends?”

  Her eyes darted away. “Famous friends? I have a few…unfortunately,” she muttered. “I’ve been on tour for a while. But this weekend has been great.”

  His fingers dipped to her shoulder where soft skin covered the slender bone. “I’m going to go out on a limb here. I think you’re great, Tara. I can’t figure out why we never got to know each other better in college.”

  “I’ve got my own limb, okay?” She bit her lip again, all shy. “I had a thing for you in college,” she confessed, rolling her eyes.

  He stopped himself from grinning like a fool. “A thing? Umm…I’m not sure what that is.”

  She playfully punched his bicep and crossed her arms. “Don’t make me say it.”

  He reached for her hand and caressed her palm. “I think I get it. Here’s another limb. You’re the most genuine person I’ve met in a hell of a long time. I don’t know…maybe I’m jaded by all that shit with Danny and Marissa being a liar.”

  She tightened her lips and stared at her lap. “Todd, there’s something I need to tell—”

  Oh crap, had he said something wrong? His cell phone vibrating on the table broke the moment before he could find out. He leaned up and clicked it on. “Yeah,” he answered. “Thanks, Nate.” He hung up. She watched him curiously. “The supplies I need arrived. I have to get to the gazebo so it’s finished for tomorrow’s ceremony. What were you saying?”

  “Um…nothing.” She shook her head.

  “I’ll walk you to the lobby. But not before I do this.” He pulled her to him and kissed her, long and slow.

  * * *

  Tara almost made it to her room to change out of her crusty shorts and tank, but one last check of the piano in the ballroom had turned into a great moment with Nikki. What a wonderful songwriter Tara had discovered in the quiet innkeeper. Nikki was a real talent. Might be an idea to collaborate in the future, when Tara got her career back on track.

  Leaving Todd was going to be hard, but at least they had the next day together. Her heart flipped thinking about his cozy cabin and their kissing…phew. A cold shower might be in order, too.

  Tara pressed the button for the lobby elevator and waited. The more she got to know Todd, the more she liked him. It wasn’t his amazing body, or his ability to kiss her into forgetting her name. No, he was genuine, too. Apprehension nagged at the back of her throat. The press painted her out to be someone she wasn’t. Right after the rehearsal tonight, she’d tell Todd everything about the gossip.

  Guess she could sort of understand the love Ben and Janey had found. But in this short a time, was it possible to have such a connection and longing for Todd?

  Gabe and Viv stepped out of the elevator with an older couple. “Aunt Agnes and Uncle Albert,” Gabe gestured, “this is our friend from college, Tara Graham. She’s a famous musician.”

  Tara smiled at the pair.

  The old man gaped at Tara’s shorts, then up at her chest. He grunted when his wife’s elbow connected with his ribs and Tara bit back a laugh.

  The woman homed in on Tara’s face and she pursed her lips. Wasn’t she the creepy staring woman from yesterday?

  “Now I remember, Albert.” Agnes snapped her fingers, startling the man into dropping the muffin balanced on top of his takeaway coffee cup.

  “She’s that hussy on the cover of Gossip Central magazine.”

  Viv gasped. “Aunt Agnes! That’s awful to say.”

  “No, no.” Agnes wagged a hand practically under Tara’s nose. “It’s right here.” Out of her quilted tote bag she pulled the latest edition—and that unflattering picture. Even though Tara had stared at it twelve million times on the net, the grainy photo still made her cringe. Guess she was indeed front-page news. “Just look at her…”

  Shit. “I can explain—”

  “That poor wife of his,” the old woman mewed, completely cutting off Tara’s defense. “It’s terrible. Albert, you know that talented Amanda Cleary? This one here,” she pointed at Tara with a sneer,” is doing the horizontal mambo with her husband, Ben Pratt.” The old woman’s voice echoed through the lobby like a high-pitched drill.

  Then the hairs on Tara’s arms stood and her midsection started tingling. The feeling meant one thing… No. No. No. This could not be happening.

  “And I saw her making moves on Morgan Stuart,” Aunt Agnes bellowed. “Next, she’ll be after my dear boy Todd. Really, Gabe, what kind of friends do you have? Or are they Genevieve’s? I should have known.” She harrumphed.

  Heavy boot steps that had been crossing the floor stopped midstride and then silence. She didn’t need to look up to see who it was.

  If earthquakes occurred in Maine, now would be a good time for one to happen.

  Against her better sense, she glanced at Todd.

  His eyes were positively glacial.

  With one false accusation his face said it all. In her gut she knew what he thought—she was a lying, cheating bitch, just like Marissa.

  With tensed shoulders and without a sound, Todd strode out the door, taking a piece of her heart with him.

  She turned to Viv. “I should have told him,” she whispered. “It’s not true.” Viv’s eyes widened with understanding at the anguish Tara knew had invaded her expression.

  With a soft cry, Tara fled the lobby and bounded up the stairs as the tears leaked.

  There is something to be said for manual labor kic
king the shit out of being hurt on the inside. He’d attacked the rest of the gazebo repairs and set up for the wedding in record time. Groaning, he folded his sore self onto the couch.

  Lolita jumped up and placed her fluffy head on his chest. “You’re the only girl I can trust.” Lolita whined and licked his face.

  Tara Graham, with her innocent eyes and sweet-tasting mouth, turned out to be too good to be true. Was he just a distraction from her movie-star boyfriend? When it came to women, his judgment sucked.

  Let’s face it: she came from a different world. And two days of connecting and a few—okay, more than a few—hot kisses wouldn’t change that reality. Was her sympathy about Danny even real? Aw, hell. He was as stupid as his twin to get sucked in by a beautiful face and smoking body.

  This was why love, or lust, or whatever the seed of feeling in his chest for Tara was, didn’t work, and never would.

  A knock sounded and he considered not answering it. Lolita jumped down and barked, as if to say “answer the door, shithead.”

  “Fine,” he muttered at the dog and opened the door.

  Tara’s eyes were red and puffy and he hardened himself against pulling her into his arms. Crying females made him feel like a heel. She was probably upset she’d gotten caught. Marissa had pulled the same shit on Danny.

  “Can I come in?” She bit her bottom lip. He hated remembering the taste of her lips, so he forced himself to concentrate on a chipped spot on the doorjamb next to her face that needed paint.

  “For what?” He kept his voice flat.

  Her chin dropped a notch. “I’ll just stay outside then,” she said while ringing her hands. “Todd, what you heard Agnes say…it’s not…”

  “Not true?”

  “Let me explain—”

  “You know, Tara, it’s okay. I get it.” He shrugged one shoulder and crossed his arms. “You’re on vacation, having fun, big music star, guy from college. I got to kiss a famous person. So yeah, I had fun, too.”

  Lolita scooted past and rubbed against Tara’s legs. Tara looked at the dog with a confused hint of a smile and scratched behind her ears as Lolita peered back at him.

  Great. Outnumbered.

  Then the same fire he’d seen in Tara when she called Marissa a bitch reappeared. “Fun? Is that all this is between us? Wow.” She laughed cynically. “I truly suck at guy signals.”

  Tara stepped in closer and he backed up an inch but she kept coming. Color rose to her cheeks. “You know,” she sputtered and poked him in the middle of his chest, “you’re not the only one who gets to protect their family. We may not know each other well, and it’s useless apparently,” she said sardonically, as if it were his fault she’d lied, “to try and convince you that some rag magazine just might be wrong…but you do not own the rights to the big sacrificial gestures.”

  Sure, blame the guy. Women were experts at that deflecting thing. No way was he buying it.

  Then she took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly before she squared her shoulders. “And for the record, it was more than just fun for me.”

  She turned on her heel and marched away. He watched her sexy saunter and something nagged at his slowly deflating anger. Goddamn it, should he believe her?

  * * *

  Tara somehow made it through the wedding. The ceremony in the gazebo was perfect, and she gladly did a favor for Nate by playing Nikki’s song.

  Viv’s face was radiant despite the worried glances she sent Tara’s way. She felt bad about raining on Viv’s parade, so she tried to crack a smile.

  Tara did her best to sing the wedding song, John Legend’s “All of Me” without breaking down into tears.

  She had no movie, no gigs when she got home, and no man, either. Going from being on top of the world to feeling like a complete failure truly sucked.

  Going a round with Bullwinkle had been the least of her problems in Maine.

  She’d head home to Fat Lorenzo and start over. Forget about Todd and how he made her want to open up. Forget about how he’d made her want to face her feelings—if there were any for him she’d be willing to face, let alone comprehend. The bad publicity would die down, as it always did, and the next scandal would take front page.

  Todd sat at the end of the bar with his arms crossed and a perpetual frown, which made a crevice in his perfect features.

  Why should she care if he believed her or not?

  If the weekend had taught her anything—besides what the ass end of a moose looked like—it was that her music was most important. Keeping with her roots, where she felt at home, mattered most. Not making movies, or being accepted in Hollywood, or avoiding front-page gossip.

  A hush came upon the room. Tara turned to the flashes of cell phone cameras clicking away like mad.

  “Is that Ben Pratt?” one of the groomsmen asked.

  “What…uh…” Tara’s mouth dropped open, then she made the mistake of looking straight at Todd. His face turned stony before he stormed out of the room.

  Tara picked up her long gown so she didn’t fall on her face. Best not grace another front page when the wedding guests loaded it onto social media.

  Home wrecker takes a tumble. Karma?

  “Why are you here, and where the hell have you been?” she whispered through gritted teeth as Ben made his way to her side.

  Ben’s anxious look when he spotted her turned to a wide smile and he stepped to the side. Janey came into view.

  “Janey? Wha… I don’t understand.”

  Her sister hugged her and then gave her the once-over. “You look like shit.”

  “I’m glad you said it.” Ben laughed and put his arm around Jane’s shoulder.

  “Who’s the guy who stormed out after he gave you the stink eye?” Jane always knew when something wasn’t quite right—she had a knack for it.

  A fat tear fell from Tara’s eye before she had the time to process the surge of emotion rising up to her throat. “It’s a long story.”

  “We only have a day so make it quick. Our honeymoon awaits.” Ben beamed at Jane, who blushed.

  Honeymoon? “What about Amanda?”

  Ben smiled politely to the gathering crowd and found a corner of the room for them to talk. “We got a quickie divorce in Mexico,” he explained in a low tone. “Besides, she’s been having an affair with her publicist for the past year.”

  Her publicist? “Wow.” That was the last thing Tara would have suspected. “But wait, you sounded so distraught,” she said to her sister.

  Jane crinkled her nose and bit her lip, guilty. “I didn’t want you to worry. Besides, we eloped.”

  “And you’re back on the movie,” Ben informed her. “They’ve agreed to postpone shooting for a few weeks.” Ben leaned down to place a kiss on Jane’s brow.

  They positively oozed love for one another.

  “Thanks for taking the heat. I owe you.” Jane hugged her again and laughed as the crowd of people who wanted Ben’s autograph approached.

  Talk about crashing a wedding, but Viv and Gabe didn’t seem to mind, for they were first on line with beaming smiles.

  Guess things worked out everywhere—Janey and Ben, Viv and Gabe, and the movie, of course. So why wasn’t she happier? The answer had stormed out of the room…that’s why.

  “Flight 214 to LaGuardia Airport has been delayed due to rain in New York.”

  A few more hours in Maine, then she’d finally be done with nature and moose and…heartache.

  Ben and Jane had dropped her off and were leaving on a later flight to Hawaii for their honeymoon. She and her Louis Vuittons were heading home to Fat Lorenzo. Although saying good-bye to Viv and Gabe had been sad, she’d promised to stay in touch this time.

  Tara bent over her carry-on for her MP3 player, but the earbuds were a tangled mess among the stuff thrown in her bag last night…amidst the tears and champagne.

  Leave it to Ben to ply her with alcohol and make her spill about Todd.

  At least they were happier than
two people could possibly be. Janey with her science mind, and Ben, the creative one. Their kids would be a cross between Albert Einstein and Laurence Olivier.

  As for her life? No love to be found. Not even a good, healthy dose of lust.

  Career, then family, remember? Well, career, then who knew?

  After the movie shoot, she’d focus on writing another song. Maybe she’d call this one “What Could’ve Been.”

  Tara straightened, looked to her left, and blinked. There was a pair of hiking boots on the next chair. No, it couldn’t be… A familiar tingle started in her middle.

  Day-old scruff covered his perfect face and his clothes were rumpled. Her mouth dropped open. “What happened to your cheek?”

  Todd looked down in embarrassment and scratched the top of his head. “Someone decided I had the wrong opinion of you.”

  The baseball-sized bruise held hues of yellow and black against his tan. She shook her head in disgust. “Ben’s an idiot.” Todd had a few inches and at least fifty pounds on him. Her eyes narrowed. “Did you hurt him?”

  “It wasn’t Ben. Your sister has a mean southpaw.”

  She blinked. “Janey? When…wow.” Who knew Janey was such a tough girl. Tara stifled a chuckle at the gloom on his face.

  A flush crept across the non-bruised cheek. “This morning, and I deserved it. Me and my flapping gums due to a night with the bottle of Jack.”

  Could he be…apologizing? Tara tamped down any hope. “They didn’t say anything.” And they were both in big trouble.

  Todd kneeled down in front of her and her breath caught. “I asked them not to. Tara…aw, hell…I suck at this stuff.” He held her gaze and pushed the wayward piece of hair behind her ear.

  She could seriously get used to that gesture.

  “It’s time I stop seeing the Marissa in everyone, especially when the most amazing person who has happened to me—ever—is nothing like her.”

  Her heart pounded but she wasn’t going to let him off so easy. “And a bruise on the cheek convinced you?” She licked her lips with cautious hope.