At Hidden Falls (Angel's Bay Novel)

by Barbara Freethy

“That was the first round, big brother,” the bartender said. “Hey, Kara. I saw Colin in here earlier. Since when aren’t you two attached at the hip?”

  “Since I had an event at the quilt shop and Colin decided to play cards with Jason and some other guys. I’ll take a red wine. Isabella?”

  “Same,” she replied.

  “Michael is my youngest brother,” Kara explained as her brother went to get their drinks. “Patrick is the oldest; he doesn’t live in Angel’s Bay. And I have a younger sister, Dee, making me the middle child.”

  “Poor baby,” Shane teased. “It makes no difference where you landed in the lineup. You run the family, and you know it.”

  “Well, someone has to,” she retorted.

  As Kara quizzed Shane on his wedding plans, the band began to play again. A female singer stepped up to the microphone with a poignant melody of love and loss. She had a good voice, but Isabella barely heard her. She was completely tuned in to Nick. She loved the intensity with which he played, the total surrender of control to the emotion in the music. Was there anyplace else where he felt as free to let go? She doubted it.

  Kara handed her a glass of wine. “Nick was a heartbreaker in high school,” she said. “What girl can resist a guy who plays the guitar?”

  Isabella smiled. “It is quite appealing.”

  “And Nick is very attractive. He’s changed a lot, though. Not in a bad way,” Kara quickly added. “He used to ride motorcycles with Shane, cut school, drink, and God knows what else. I guess he finally grew up. Having a kid tends to do that to you.”

  “Yes,” Isabella murmured, only half listening to Kara. Nick’s gaze had found hers again, and she had the crazy feeling he was playing just for her.

  When the song ended, Nick handed the guitar to another guy and slowly made his way toward the bar, stopped frequently by people complimenting him on his performance.

  Eventually, he ended up in front of her. Kara and Lauren greeted him with hugs and rave reviews of his performance, which he brushed off with a disarming smile. She hadn’t seen him look so relaxed, so happy. As the conversation flowed easily, Nick’s gaze occasionally caught hers and every single time she felt her heart skip.

  Finally, Kara announced that her babysitting time was up and she was heading home. Shane and Lauren were engaged in conversation with other friends, so Isabella decided to make her exit, as well.

  “I’ll walk you both out,” Nick said.

  She nodded, feeling a tingle of anticipation. She was glad for Kara’s presence. The way she was feeling tonight, being alone with Nick was probably a bad idea.

  “I’m parked just around the corner,” Kara said as they left the bar. “I’m fine on my own.”

  “What about you, Isabella?” Nick asked.

  “Over on Elm Street,” she replied. “I didn’t know where I’d be going when I came into town, so I just parked at the bottom of the hill.”

  “We’ll walk Kara to her car, and then I’ll walk you to yours.”

  “That isn’t necessary—” Isabella stopped as she and Kara said the same thing at the same time.

  “Relax, ladies, I’ve got it covered.”

  “It was good to see you playing again,” Kara said as they started to walk. “I’d forgotten how good you were, Nick.”

  “I’d forgotten how rusty I was,” he said. “I hit some bad notes.”

  “No one could tell. Where’s your daughter tonight?”

  “Babysitting for my cousin Colleen.”

  “Sounds very responsible.”

  “She has her moments.”

  As they turned the corner, Kara paused by a minivan. “This is me. Thanks for the escort, Nick. Isabella, I hope I’ll see you soon.”

  “Good night,” Isabella said.

  They waited until Kara drove off before continuing down the street. Nick paused as they approached the Java Hut. “Coffee smells good. Want to stop?”

  She really should say no, but instead she said, “That sounds great.”

  Nick held open the door for her, and she walked into a small, warm café that smelled like coffee beans and vanilla. They ordered lattes from the teenage clerk and sat down to wait for their order. The quiet was nice after the raucous atmosphere in the bar.

  “You were really good back there,” she said. “I had no idea you were so talented. When did you learn to play?”

  “I was six or seven when I picked up my dad’s guitar. It was love at first sight.”

  “Did you ever think about playing professionally?”

  “Oh, yeah. I was going to be a rock star, but that didn’t work out.”

  She smiled, tilting her head to study him. “You’re different tonight—less tense.”

  “Music always relaxed me. It was fun to let loose and escape into that world. I’d forgotten what it was like.”

  “Tell me more about your guitar-playing days.”

  “I played in a band in high school. We performed at the school dances, town festivals, whatever gig was going on. We planned to tour and make an album after we graduated. But in my senior year, my parents moved us to Chicago for four months to do a play. By the time I got back, the band had another guitar player, and I was out.”

  “You couldn’t find another band?”

  “Other things got in the way not too long after that.”

  “Megan.”

  He nodded. “Kendra’s pregnancy was a big detour.” He got up to retrieve their coffees, then sat back down, sliding her cup across the table. “So, enough about me—what’s your story, Isabella? What are the Silveiras all about?”

  She took a sip of coffee. “Well, I’m the youngest of five kids. My mother is Irish; my father is Hispanic. They fight and love with energy and passion. There’s never a dull moment.”

  “Joe is the oldest?”

  “Yes, and I have three sisters, as well. According to my parents, I was a happy accident, but I wasn’t ever sure they were all that happy about my arrival. As soon as I hit kindergarten, my mom was off. She didn’t want to volunteer on the playground or help out in the classroom or be the troop leader, like she did with my older siblings. She’d put her time in, and she was done. I couldn’t really blame her.”

  “Couldn’t you?” he asked thoughtfully.

  She tipped her head. “I can’t say I was never angry or that I didn’t occasionally feel shortchanged, but maybe that’s true for every youngest kid. There’s always less excitement when you come along. You should see how many photo albums there are of Joe and my older sisters. They must have taken a thousand pictures of them doing practically nothing. But of me, not so many,” she said with a small sigh. “Yet I feel bad for even implying that I didn’t have a good childhood, because I did. And my parents are great people, well respected, very loved in the community. I have nothing to complain about.”

  “You can love them and still not think they did everything right. God knows, my parents screwed up all the time. And the mistakes I’ve made with Megan—way too many to count.” He took a sip of his coffee. “What else?”

  “What else?” she echoed, wondering how deep she wanted to take this conversation. “You’re awfully curious all of a sudden.”

  “I want to know what makes Isabella Silveira tick,” he said with a smile.

  “Let’s see. I love to sew and make costumes. I doodle whenever I have spare time on my hands, so some of my designs had their initial sketches done on napkins and the backs of envelopes.”

  “I do that, too, sometimes.”

  “Because you can’t let a good idea go without putting it down, right?”

  He nodded. “That’s right.”

  “I had an idea when I was watching you play earlier.” She took a pen out of her purse and sketched quickly on her napkin. “What do you think?” She pushed it over to him.

  “Is that supposed to be me or Mick Jagger?”

  She laughed. “It’s not supposed to be either of you—just a smoking rock-star look. The movie I’m going
to work on in January has some musicians in it, so I’ve been thinking along those lines.”

  “I like it,” he said. “I don’t know much about clothes; I tend to stick with the same old look. It’s either a business suit or jeans.”

  “I could give you some other ideas,” she said.

  He smiled. “I’m sure you could. But let’s get back to you. What do you do when you’re not working or doodling?”

  “I’m a big fan of exercise—everything from kickboxing to spinning to tai chi. Besides organized classes, I run, hike, bike, and dance. It’s the only way I know to get rid of my energy. My family nickname is Dizzy Izzy. My father used to tell me I made his head spin, and not in a good way.”

  “How so?”

  “I was always changing my mind, my plans, my address,” she said with a grin. “My siblings all knew exactly what they wanted to do from a very early age. They made decisions and stuck with them. Joe married the girl he fell in love with when he was fifteen.”

  “Isn’t he getting a divorce?” Nick pointed out.

  “True.”

  “Some choices don’t last a lifetime,” he said.

  “I guess not.”

  He sipped his coffee. “I was the odd man out in my family, too. They were disappointed I didn’t want to follow in their footsteps.”

  “Maybe they were at one time, but they’re proud of you, Nick. I’ve heard a lot of raves about you since I started working at the theater.”

  He gave her a dry smile. “They’re trying to get on my good side so I’ll handle the renovations for them.”

  “They love you.”

  “I know they do,” he said more seriously. “They didn’t always put me first, and their career decisions were not always in my best interest, but I never doubted their love. I wish that I’d given Megan that kind of grounding.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  “I hope not, but she’s fighting me.”

  “You have to fight back. If you don’t, you really will let her down.”

  “I don’t know how to be a good father. When I was a kid, I didn’t listen to anyone. How can I expect Megan to listen to me?”

  “You’re not that wild guy now. Although I liked seeing you play the guitar tonight, because I felt like I was seeing the real you.” She paused, sure she was about to get too personal, but she’d come this far . . . “Why do you have so many walls up, Nick? What are you trying so hard to protect?”

  He stiffened at her question, a frown returning to his face. “If I wanted an analysis, I’d see a shrink.”

  “That’s a copout.”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because I’m the one asking,” she returned.

  “I don’t even know you.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing now, getting to know each other?” she challenged.

  He blew out a breath, a battle going on in his eyes. “There’s something about you that makes me want to talk, and I haven’t wanted to talk in a long time.”

  “Why not?” Even as she asked, she wondered if she had the right to pry into his life when she had secrets of her own. But it was too late to take it back.

  He stared at her for a long moment. “Because I wasted too much time talking instead of doing. But I’ve got my life together now. I have a successful business. I own a house. It’s good. It’s solid. It’s enough.”

  Despite his forceful words, she heard the uncertainty in his voice. “It is all that. But deep down, you’re still the guy who wanted to be a rock star.”

  “That guy grew up, and I’m not going back.”

  “Then why did you jump in with the band tonight?”

  He sighed. “Temporary insanity.”

  “Well, you were insanely good. Does it really have to be one or the other?”

  “I’ve never been able to find a middle ground. That’s what worries me about Megan; I see a lot of myself in her. And right now, she’s all defiance and rebellion. Look at the way she dresses.”

  “Her hair, clothes, and makeup are the only things under her control right now.”

  “I know that. But I see a dangerous recklessness in her, which is what I felt after Kendra left. When she took off with Megan, I went on a nine-month bender. I drank and hung out in clubs until dawn. It took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t going to get my family back unless I changed my life.”

  “So you dried out, went back to school, and made a career for yourself. You should be proud of all that.”

  “I am.”

  “And you locked that reckless, rebellious guy away—until tonight. Why tonight? What changed?”

  He frowned. “I don’t know. I was happy enough with my life, but then Megan arrived, and I rescued you off that hillside, and suddenly, I find myself wanting things I thought I’d forgotten about. You make my head spin, too,” he added, his gaze drifting to her mouth. “Why did you have to show up now, Isabella?”

  She could have told him that it was destiny, but he wouldn’t believe her. Nick was under the mistaken impression that he could control his life if he just wore a tie and followed a few rules. She finished her coffee and stood up. “Let’s walk.”

  After they left the Java Hut, they strolled along the harbor. The boats bobbed lazily in their slips. Just beyond the breakwater, the waves crashed, but the bay was protected and calm. And overhead were a million stars in a clear night sky.

  “You don’t get this kind of view in L.A.,” she said. “It must have been fun growing up here.”

  “It was a haven from the madness of the rest of my life. When it was off season here in Angel’s Bay, my parents would pack me and Tory up and take us on the road. Buses, motels, backstage dressing rooms—that was our world.”

  “Were you and Tory close?”

  “Always. We looked out for each other. I tried to be a big brother when I could, but in truth, Tory had her life together long before me, and she stepped between me and my parents when we were at odds. Which was often.” He paused. “After Kendra left, I asked my parents for money so I could go to London and get Megan back.”

  Isabella stopped walking, hearing the tension in his voice. “What did they say?”

  “They didn’t have any extra cash,” Nick replied, a grimness to his expression. “But it wasn’t really about the money. They didn’t like the life I was leading. My father said it was time for me to grow up.” He gave a short, hard laugh. “Funny coming from him, because he’s always been Peter Pan, living in a world where no one ever grows up or has to face reality. Even with these theater renovations, they’re burying their heads in the sand.” He drew in a breath and started walking again. “Maybe it was good they didn’t help me out. It forced me to stand on my own two feet. But a part of me wonders if I would have gotten Megan back sooner if I’d had their support.”

  “They seem to care a great deal about Megan now,” she put in, having witnessed several exchanges between the Hartleys and Megan.

  “They always cared. They used to write her and send her gifts, but for a long time, they thought Megan was better off with Kendra. They understood Kendra; she was one of them. It took all of us a while to see her for who she really was. She’s a very good actress.”

  “It must have been strange to grow up with people who could so easily transform themselves into someone else. I’d have had a difficult time figuring out who was being real and who was playing a role,” Isabella said.

  “You learn not to trust too easily.”

  “So that explains some of your walls.”

  “Are we back to that?”

  She shrugged. “Just saying.”

  For a few moments, they walked in easy silence, then Nick asked, “How long will you be staying in Angel’s Bay?”

  “I don’t know. Outside of work, I rarely make plans. I just see where the wind blows.”

  He cast her a quick sideways look. “Really? What if the wind blows you somewhere you don’t want to go?”

  “There’s a
lways another breeze.”

  He shook his head. “I used to leave things to chance, but that didn’t get me anywhere. You have to go after what you want, or there’s a good chance you’ll never get it. Despite what you say, I don’t believe you’re as casual as all that. You must have things you want.”

  She gave him a long look. “What if I said I wanted you, Nick? What if I went after you?”

  He sucked in a quick breath. “You’d be disappointed.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a terrible boyfriend and a worse husband.”

  “Who said I wanted you to be either one? Not every relationship has to have a label.”

  He stopped walking, his gaze holding hers. “Would a short-term fling really be enough for you, Isabella? Most women want more.”

  She’d been testing him a little; now he was doing the same to her.

  “What I want,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “is to live my life and get to the end without regrets.”

  He stared back at her. “That’s a nice dream, but no one gets to the end without regrets.”

  “You certainly won’t if you keep pretending that who you are now has nothing to do with who you used to be. You’re afraid, Nick.”

  “You’re calling me a coward?” he asked in amazement. “I saved your life.”

  “You’re not afraid to be a hero. You’re afraid to be who you really are.”

  His eyes glittered with a mix of anger and desire. “You like to live dangerously, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Sometimes so do I.” He put his hands on her waist and yanked her up against him. “You know where this is going, don’t you?”

  “I hope so,” she whispered, just before his mouth closed over hers.

  His kiss deepened, his tongue sliding between her lips. He tasted like coffee and lust and so much more. Nick’s hands threaded through her hair, holding her in place, but stopping the delicious onslaught was the farthest thing from her mind. She wanted to touch him all over, to rip off his clothes, break through his walls, and get to the core of the real Nick Hartley. The way he kissed her made her want to take a lifetime exploring his mouth and his body, his heart and his soul.

  She shook from the force of her emotions and felt an echoing tremor run through him. Nick tore himself away from her mouth, his ragged breath steaming up the cold night air. His eyes burned with wild, reckless desire, and her heart skipped a beat. But then she saw his battle for control, his withdrawal in the stiffening of his shoulders.