Harlequin Superromance May 2018 Box Set

by Amber Leigh Williams

  “Whatever happens, thank you for everything,” Annie said. “I want you to know how much I appreciate it. I wish…” She ducked her head.

  “What?”

  “I wish you could be my voice coach. I didn’t realize there was so much for me to learn.”

  Finn tapped the steering wheel, avoiding the longing in her kohl-rimmed brown eyes. Annie needed a teacher and he enjoyed working with her. “I’m only in town long enough to help Carly get her aunt’s house ready for sale. While I’m here, I’ll teach you what I can. How about that?”

  “That would be great.” Her face lit. Then she bit her lip. “But um, how much do you charge?”

  “Forget it! I’m not a professional teacher. It’ll be fun for me, too.”

  They got out of the car and walked down the driveway, Annie unsteady on her high heels. The band was playing a rock/pop blend and they could hear the music through the closed door.

  Outside, Finn paused. “I haven’t told them who you are yet. With that makeup, haircut and those clothes you look completely different. Hopefully you’ll get through the audition before they recognize you. If they say something, just keep singing. No matter what, the show must go on.”

  “Carly says I need attitude.” Annie threw her shoulders back and took a few paces in an exaggerated swagger. “How’s this?”

  “Nothing wrong with pumping yourself up,” Finn said. “Eventually you will discover who you are and feel comfortable enough to be your authentic self. For now, it’s showtime.”

  Finn introduced her as Tia, the singer from the recording. Annie smiled and nodded and didn’t speak. The guys were polite. Dingo complimented her voice. Annie fidgeted.

  “Let’s get down to it,” Finn said, not wanting Annie to get any more nervous than she already was. “She’s going to start with an Amy Winehouse number. I’ll play keyboard. You guys join when you’re ready.”

  Annie went up to the standing microphone. Finn played the opening bar and nodded at Annie. She came in right on cue. The first few lines were a bit wobbly but he caught her eye and touched his solar plexus to remind her to breathe from her diaphragm. Her voice got stronger.

  Leroy came in on drums with a reggae beat. The percussion acted like a vote of confidence to Annie. Her voice swelled and she started using hand gestures and moving her hips. If Finn shut his eyes he could almost swear he heard the original artist. It was uncanny. Now the guitars were playing and the fuller sound made Annie project her voice more. She looked at him and smiled. Relief flickered through him. She was having a good time.

  Finn didn’t pause when the song finished but segued straight into the Doors tune the band was rehearsing. This would show how versatile she was. Annie grabbed the mic off the stand and belted out the song, stalking across the tiny open space. Dingo shot him a surprised grin.

  The guys were digging it, no question. And rightly so, she was that good. The second song ended with a flourish of drums. Annie grinned and looked over at Finn for his reaction. He gave her a discreet two thumbs up.

  There was a moment of silence. Then Dingo and the guys all started talking at once. They wanted to know where she was from, who she’d played with before, how come they’d never heard of her.

  Before she could answer their questions Tyler ran into the studio, yelling, “Annie, Annie.”

  “Hey, little munchkin.” Annie crouched and held out her arms to the boy.

  Tyler stopped dead, thrown into doubt by her altered appearance. Finn could almost see the little wheels turning in the toddler’s head. She sounded like his babysitter but she had black hair and stuff on her face.

  “Tyler, it’s me, Annie. I’ve got a costume on, like Halloween.”

  The boy ran into her open arms and was enveloped in a hug.

  “Annie?” Dingo shook his head. “I never would have recognized you. How the heck did Tyler know?”

  “He knows my singing voice. When I’m babysitting, we play with the karaoke machine.” She ruffled the boy’s curls. “He loves rock music. Don’t you, tiger?”

  “Me sing, too.” The toddler broke free of her embrace and danced around, playing air guitar.

  “Give us a minute,” Dingo said to Annie and went over to the other band members. The trio stood in a huddle, casting occasional doubtful glances at Annie.

  She led Tyler outside onto the grass at the side of the house.

  Finn joined the band members. They might have accepted her before they knew who she was but they were obviously finding it hard to overcome the prejudice of taking a teenage babysitter into their hard rock band. “What do you think?”

  “She’s good but…” Dingo trailed away with a shrug. “She’s Annie. Sorry.”

  Finn swore under his breath. He bet they would take her if he came as part of the package. Well, why not, he’d already said he’d do open mike. If he could manage that, he could handle the RockAround concert. He hoped.

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Finn said. “I’ll play keyboard and sing at the RockAround gig—” He held up a hand to quell the immediate chorus of approval. “On one condition.”

  “I have a hunch what it might be. But go on, let’s hear it,” Dingo said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Make that two conditions.” Finn swallowed. He was either taking another step forward—or setting himself up for a fall. “I get to showcase one of my original songs.”

  “No problem,” Dingo said. “Right guys?” Nods all around.

  “And,” Finn went on. “You bring Annie in to sing backup.” Rumblings but nothing too loud. Finn pressed harder. “Plus, she and I sing a duet.”

  “Duet?” Leroy snorted. “That’s not hard rock.”

  “We’ll find something suitable,” Finn said. “You should expand your repertoire if you want to make the big time. There’s a wider market for a versatile band than there is for golden oldies.”

  “We’ll talk it over and let you know,” Dingo said.

  “Cool.” Finn walked out into the sunshine and told Annie what was happening.

  She threw her arms around him and hugged him. “I can’t believe it. That’s amazing.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up too high,” he cautioned. “They might not go for it.”

  Truth be told, he was excited himself. And at the same time, scared to death. He was counting on Carly being willing to help him prepare.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  IT WAS A perfect evening for spreading Irene’s ashes. The sun was low on the horizon but despite the late hour it was still warm enough for shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt. Carly waded into the water carrying the heavy blue-and-silver urn. Wavelets lapped at her thighs and a light breeze lifted her hair. Finn strode through the water to her right, his rolled-up jeans soaked to above his knees. Rufus bounded between them, barking joyously.

  Finn seemed lighter, happier tonight and his upbeat mood was contagious. Even the seriousness of the occasion couldn’t quell the feeling of buoyancy that permeated the air. Irene had known she was going to die prematurely but had kept living life on her terms. She hadn’t let fear rule her. Carly wanted this last send-off to be perfect, befitting the beautiful, strong person Irene had been.

  “Here looks good,” Carly said, stopping. Any deeper and she might lose her footing and drop the urn.

  Finn closed the gap between them. “How do you want to do this?”

  She’d been considering that very subject all day. This was her last physical contact with Irene and she didn’t want to just dump the contents of the urn in the ocean. It had to be meaningful. “I’m going to take a handful, think of a time she and I spent together and then fling the ashes. Then another handful, and another, till it’s all gone. You can do the same if you want.”

  “It will take a while but it’ll be nice to reminisce,” Finn said. “We have to tell each other our anecdotes.�
��

  “Of course.” Carly screwed off the lid and peered inside. The urn was two thirds full of a gray, gritty material mixed with lighter ash.

  She plunged her fingers into it and closed them around a handful, remembering the comedy show she and Irene had seen last December in New York. She described the evening to Finn. “The show was good, but Irene and I laughed more during the taxi ride home than we did at the theater.”

  “Here goes.” Carly pulled out a handful of ashes. Visualizing Irene’s laughing face, she threw the ashes across the water. Then offered the urn to Finn. “Your turn.”

  He reached inside and his smile grew.

  “What are you thinking of?” Carly said.

  “Irene doing her Barbra Streisand imitation,” Finn said. “She was note perfect and her gestures and mannerisms spot on.” He opened his mouth and sang, mimicking Irene mimicking Streisand in a voice that sounded eerily like both Irene and the great singer.

  He flung the ashes just as a gust of wind came out of nowhere. Irene’s remains blew back in their faces. Carly shrieked and ducked, a hand up to keep the ashes out of her eyes. Then she stumbled on the soft ocean floor and fell back in the water, clutching the urn to her chest.

  Finn reached for her arm and missed. He tried to grab the urn but was too late to save it from tipping. Carly went under, stinging salt water rushing up her nose. The urn was wrenched from her by a wave. She floundered in the chilly ocean, trying to regain her footing.

  Finn gripped her upper arm and hauled her upright. When he’d made sure she was firmly planted on two feet, he duck dived in search of the urn. Carly spotted the lid floating five yards away and Rufus, like a good retriever, paddled over to bring it back.

  “Good boy,” Carly said as she took the lid from him.

  Finn surfaced holding the urn, saltwater and ashes spilling from the mouth. He flicked wet hair out of his face and Carly groaned. The ceremony she’d envisaged was a shambles. “This isn’t how I wanted her last send-off.”

  “Irene liked spontaneity.” Finn felt around in the urn. “There’s still some ash in there. You could get a few handfuls out.”

  “No, the mood is ruined. Let’s just pour the rest of her out. We’ll do it together.” She put her hands on the lip and bottom of the urn. Meeting his gaze, she said, “One, two, three…go.”

  They tipped the urn over. The contents streamed into the ocean. The heavier pieces sank through the clear water, the lighter particles hung suspended in the upper layers of the water or floated on the surface. Soon they were standing in the middle of Irene’s swirling remains.

  Carly looked down, horrified. “Oh wow. If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.”

  “Irene would have laughed.” Finn swished a hand through the water and picked up gray flecks. “I just hope I’m not going to be picking her out of my boxers for the next week.”

  An appalled giggle spurted from Carly. “I’m going to wash that woman right out of my hair,” she sang off-key.

  “We’re not exactly sending her on her way.” Finn nodded at the incoming tide carrying the flotsam. “She’s heading straight for the beach.”

  “I didn’t even think about the direction of the tide,” Carly said. “I imagined her floating out to sea and traveling the world on ocean currents.”

  “Maybe this is better. She’ll stay here, in one of her favorite places.” Finn started wading out to where the water was deeper. “Let’s rinse off with a swim farther out.”

  Carly glanced toward the shore. There was no one around. She pulled off her top and slipped out of her shorts, then removed her bra and panties.

  Finn stripped naked, too. He took their clothing and the urn to the beach and then swam back out to join her.

  The setting sun turned the bay to molten gold and burnished their gleaming skin. Laughing for the sheer joy of being alive, they splashed, ducked and chased each other and dove over waves. Rufus barked and circled, trying to get in the game.

  Tiring, Carly turned over and floated on her back to gaze up at the fathomless sky, turned a deep indigo by twilight. Soon they would go in. But not yet. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Finn not far away, also on his back. She sculled toward him and held his hand. She told him that her aunt had known about her aneurysm and how brave she’d been. Quietly they reminisced about good times they’d had with Irene, then gradually fell silent. Cool water lapped at Carly’s sides but the air held warmth. Her mind emptied. Serenity flowed over and through her. In this moment she felt at peace.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING, Carly opened her eyes to see Finn propped up in her bed, scrolling through his phone messages. His sleep-ruffled hair was dark against the snowy pillow and his strong features relaxed into a grin as he read something he liked.

  How good would it be to wake up with him every morning for the rest of her life? To breakfast together and share their plans for the coming day. To come home to him at night and unload or celebrate or just curl up on the couch and watch television together. To be part of his life from here on out…

  Her mouth twisted. Nice fantasy but not going to happen. She was going back to New York on Sunday and he’d be going back to LA. If she got the Wallis Group account she would be very busy for the foreseeable future.

  “Morning,” she said lazily and ran her fingertips along his stubbled jaw.

  He set his phone aside and gave her a lingering kiss. “Dingo agreed to take Annie as backup singer if I join the band.”

  “Fantastic,” she said. “Congratulations.”

  He turned on his side, propping his head on his hand. “Now I have to step up. I need to overcome my anxiety. It’s not just my fate riding on this but Annie’s, Dingo’s and the whole band. I haven’t even proven myself at open mike and I’ve signed up for RockAround.”

  “I’ll help,” Carly said, sitting up eagerly. “Let’s go to Seattle and check out the venue. No one will be around during the day. You can get a feel for the room, walk out onto the stage. It’ll make Rhonda’s stage look like child’s play. If there’s a piano you could play it.”

  “Or I’ll run screaming from it with a panic attack,” Finn said. “Do you have tips on dealing with that?”

  “Yes, but…” She searched his gaze, suddenly doubtful. “I’m not sure I’m your best source of advice about this since we’re in a relationship.”

  “Are we in a relationship?” His fingertip traced a delicate line from her jaw down her neck to the curve of her collarbone. “I thought you more or less said we were friends with benefits.”

  “The point is, we’re intimate.” Carly captured his finger before he went any lower. “I’ve only worked as a counselor. It’s not the same thing as a therapist. You could find someone locally who is more qualified and more objective.”

  “You know me better than a stranger,” Finn said. “I trust you and I don’t have a lot of time. With you I don’t have to explain my backstory or wait for an appointment.”

  “True,” she conceded. “But if something goes wrong, don’t blame me.”

  “What could go wrong?” Finn slid a hand down her belly, beneath the sheets.

  All sorts of things could go wrong. He was proud and sensitive. He’d finally accepted that he needed help—that alone was a breakthrough—but she was hardly objective. As if to prove the point, her brain now turned to mush as his clever fingers brought her pleasure. She edged closer, feeling him rise against her. Her last coherent thought before she surrendered to the moment was, if she couldn’t help him overcome his anxiety would he still trust her? Or would he shun her for having seen him at his most vulnerable?

  * * *

  FINN DRUMMED THE steering wheel as he drove south to Seattle. A low level of tension had been building inside him since they left Fairhaven. What if he couldn’t get over the anxiety? If he fell apart he would not only embarrass himself,
he’d screw things up for everyone else. What had he been thinking when he’d rashly said he’d play at open mike? And RockAround…was he insane? No, he couldn’t do this. There was too much at stake.

  The whole way, Carly had been chattering excitedly about how thrilled she was that he was taking steps to overcome his problem and how he would make a comeback and start performing his own music from now on.

  “I don’t know about a career performing,” he said. “I’m not even sure I should be doing RockAround. I’ve been thinking about that Molto Music job. You were right, it would give me security with a solid income.”

  “It doesn’t have to be either, or,” Carly objected. “You could apply at Molto and do the RockAround gig, then see how it goes. No matter what, it’s worthwhile addressing your issues. Wouldn’t it be better to choose your career based on what you want rather than having to accept what you can manage? Irene didn’t let her condition stop her from doing anything she wanted to do.”

  “It’s not that simple,” he said. “Even if I overcome the anxiety there are no guarantees in this business. The music industry chews up talented performers and spits them out every day of the week.”

  “Finn, you’re throwing up roadblocks.” Carly put her hand on his knee and squeezed. “Anxiety is a common problem. There’s no shame in it. It takes a strong man to admit you need help.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m getting cold feet.”

  “Do you know how many psychiatrists it takes to change a lightbulb?” She waited a beat. “Only one, but the lightbulb has to want to change.”

  He groaned. “Hey, bad jokes are my thing.”

  “Do you want to change, Finn?”

  He was on a seesaw—one minute wanting to, the next minute, running scared. He’d been doing okay in LA, in his comfort zone. But he was tired of fear holding him back. Tired of making excuses for why he wouldn’t perform. Tired of letting people down. He didn’t think he could face Annie if he had to tell her she wouldn’t get her big break because he was scared.