Every Heart Sings (Serenity Island Series)

by Lucas, Mackenzie

  “I call it humility. When you’re truly humble, you acknowledge right where you stand in the pecking order. You know your strengths and your weaknesses. It’s a point of total self-honesty.”

  She stared at his mouth. “And this is a strength?”

  “Mmmm. Most definitely.” Cupping the nape of her neck, he drew her closer still. His lips brushed hers in a lazy sensual glide, his tongue slipped past hers to caress her. He angled his head to deepen the kiss.

  She moaned and slipped her fingers into the silky strands of his short hair.

  He pulled back. “Something to remember me by,” he said, then turned and jogged down the stage steps.

  She touched her lips.

  Jordan watched him go, studying the way his jeans hugged his ass in all the right places and accentuated his strong thighs. Thighs she wanted wedged firmly between hers as he pounded himself into her and brought her to climax.

  She sighed out loud.

  Not turning around, he laughed and raised his hand in good-bye. “I’m winning the contest for the fairy-godmother. Hot damn.”

  Don’t remind me. Like she’d forget! Josh was winning the battle for her heart and she didn’t know if she should be scared shitless or happy about it.

  Time would tell. Time had never been her friend in the past. It always gave her too much room to screw it all up. For some reason, she didn’t want this one to go bad. Although, in the end, she wasn’t sure she’d have a choice.

  Josh was a power to reckon with if he set his sights on you. And, apparently, for some reason, he had set his sights on Jordan for the time being. She just hoped she landed with her heart intact. She sucked in a fortifying breath.

  For now, she needed to save her resources to deal with her mother for . . . what? She fished her phone out of her pocket to check the time. For the next forty-five minutes before she took the ferry back to Wilmington.

  A life as a performer had taught her she could do anything for forty-five minutes. Then, she’d worry about the rest. And figure out how to eradicate Josh Nicodemus from her head and her heart, once and for all.

  Good luck, whispered the voice in her head.

  Yeah, she’d need a boatload of luck.

  She grabbed her purse. But lady luck had never been kind to her; it had always been her resourcefulness and ingenuity that had gotten her out of tight spots. And, then, she’d still made some pretty bad decisions.

  No wonder she didn’t trust her gut.

  Her instincts were always wrong. This situation wasn’t going to be any different than all the others.

  We are who we are.

  She slammed the lid on the lie that came to her so easily and headed for the theater doors. No. She had to believe people could change their course in life—affect their own destinies.

  Hell, she was living proof of it, right?

  But damned if the old powerlessness lie didn’t continue to hammer at her whenever it could.

  She wouldn’t let it seduce her into acting out—tempt her into blowing it all because she couldn’t change the outcome. No. Not this time. She saw the trap and she refused to go there. The thinking became circular and self-fulfilling. It said, Why try because what the hell was the point anyway? She saw it for what it was, a blatant falsehood. But now, she had to try. Every single moment of every single day. Because if she didn’t, all the hard work she’d done for sixteen years was wasted. Worth nothing. And she valued everything she’d accomplished, everything she’d made of herself too much, to blow it all away believing in a lie.

  She headed down the sidewalk toward the center of town. Calmness settled over her at her resolution. She could do this.

  Her mother waited for her at the café.

  And she went running after her, like she always did.

  Some things never changed. Certainly, Helene hadn’t.

  But this, she’d come to live with and accept.

  Chapter 12

  A Music Café Indeed

  “Heard your pal, Ben, left town yesterday.” Sidewinder didn’t pause in his playing of U-2s “With or Without You” as he spoke to Josh.

  “Yep, apparently, The Seashell Inn didn’t meet with his standards.” Josh smiled. “You guys are a little crazy.”

  Sidewinder laughed in response. “No, we’re passionate about what we love, there’s a difference.”

  “It’s a fine line between passion and obsession, old man.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? Serenity watches out for its own.” Sidewinder paused, turning toward Josh. “So when are you going to make this a true music café, son?”

  Josh sat in the café composing a song—writing down words, then picking a few notes on his guitar—while the contractor Hank Yost and his team tore apart the party room in the back.

  Hank had assured Josh that he’d have the job done in a few days. But, hell, the disruption would be worth it if the studio was up and running by the end of the week. He’d be ahead of schedule. He’d written three songs and was eager to get into the studio to hear how they sounded on professional equipment.

  “What did you say?” Josh posed the question as Sidewinder took a break, sipping at his hot mug of coffee. He and the grouchy old musician had fallen into a comfortable rhythm over the past few days.

  “A music café. When are you going to renovate this place? Make it into a Bluebird Café on the Atlantic? You could have musicians traveling here from all over the country. Maybe even the globe if you play your cards—and your publicity—right. Draw tourists at the same time. Win-win scenario, if you ask me.”

  Josh looked around at the empty café, considering the idea, then back at Sidewinder. “I don’t think anyone did ask you.”

  But it wasn’t a bad idea.

  It wouldn’t take much to spruce up the place.

  “Would do you good to put roots down.”

  “Only trees need roots.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  “Excuse me?” Josh tensed, his voice defensive, preparing for the confrontation he heard coming.

  “You heard me right, country boy. You got roots. You just don’t acknowledge them.”

  “More like they don’t accept me.”

  “That right?” Sidewinder turned on his piano bench to face Josh, even though he couldn’t see him, he turned toward the sound of his voice. “You’re from the Kentucky Mountains. Good blue-grass music from those parts.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I got Wikipedia.” Sidewinder ran his hand along the glossy black wood of the piano.

  “You expect me to believe you know how to use a computer?” Josh put the pick he was using between his teeth to write down a few more words.

  “It’s a keyboard, ain’t it?”

  Josh laughed and tossed the pen down, retrieving his pick to pluck a few more notes. “I suppose it is.”

  “And I got a fancy software package that reads to me from the computer. So don’t even go mentioning my inability to see.”

  “Technology today is amazing.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised, young pup.” Sidewinder turned back to his keyboard and played a little classical tune. “I see a lot more blind then seeing people do.”

  “I’m sure you do, you old coot.” The hairs on Josh’s arms rose. Sidewinder played a favorite his grandfather wrote.

  Sidewinder knew.

  “Your grandfather is pretty famous. Saul Cohen. Studied him in my day. Trained as a classic pianist before the blues got hold of me, then rock-and-roll ruined me for anything else.” Sidewinder continued to play softly as he spoke, intricate classical runs. “Can’t tell a nineteen-year-old anything.”

  Josh understood that sentiment. He didn’t want to hear anything at the same age, either. W
hat was it about teenage boys wanting to prove their independence?

  “Yes, and so was I.” Josh hung his head, trying to hide the pain he knew was etched on his face, even though Sidewinder couldn’t see it. “Only that doesn’t make the papers or Wikipedia. My fans don’t want to hear me play ‘Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata’ or Chopin’s ‘Nocturne in C Sharp Minor’ or Saul Cohen’s ‘Tranquil Waters.’”

  Sadness sat on his chest like a three-ton lead weight, making it suddenly hard to breathe.

  The broken relationship with his grandfather still hurt like hell, even after all these years. He’d loved the old man for as long as he could remember. Looked up to him. And yet, it was his grandfather’s words, his rejection, that had wounded him the deepest. He couldn’t look back, not now. If he did, he might see that he was still raw and bleeding.

  And what kind of weak man did that make him? Shit.

  “How do you know your fans don’t want to hear you play classical music? I think they’d listen to just about anything you wanted to play, son, because you got passion and you’re c-o-oool.”

  Josh arched a brow at Sidewinder, even though the old man couldn’t’ see him. “And you know cool?” He grinned, and knew the man heard a smile in his voice when he responded in kind, his wide mouth stretched into a big smile and his white teeth flashed a moment before he spoke.

  “I was cool before you were born, young man,” Sidewinder said, his voice gravelly and deep. “So, yeah, I know something about it.”

  Josh nodded and cocked his head to study him. “I bet you were, old man. I just bet you were. Did you ever produce music?”

  They’d never talked about it. In the few weeks Josh had been on the island, they’d kept the banter light. Today was the first they’d gotten below the surface.

  Sidewinder balled his hands into fists in his lap. “Sure I did. And I was good at it, too. Recorded with Elvis and Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Bill Hayley and the Comets. Only I wasn’t so good at maintaining my home life at the same time. I screwed it all up.”

  “Why do you say that?” Josh was interested in hearing about his troubles, and his musical journey through life.

  “I didn’t pay attention.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t watch my own business. Managers are slippery characters.” Sidewinder growled. “Mine slipped right into my bed when I wasn’t watching. Stole my wife. By the time I woke up to the fact, it was too late. I’d lost the love of my life, both figuratively and literally. My manager and my wife died in a plane crash shortly after she left me. I never could make amends. But I got a lovely baby daughter out of it. She takes care of me to this day. Have you met Shannon?”

  “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure yet.” Josh laid his guitar on the tabletop. “I’d love to meet her, though.” He stood and walked over to Sidewinder. “I’m sorry for your loss, old man.” His voice was gentle now. No poking here. Because if anyone understood regrets, it was Josh. He had lots of regrets surrounding his grandfather and the role he’d played in ending their relationship.

  “It was a long time ago.” Sidewinder cleared his throat. “Your Pops is still alive?”

  “Yes, sir. Lives in New York City.”

  “Then what are you waiting for, boy? You got to mend those fences. Now. Before he’s gone. Because if he passes and you don’t have that conversation, you will never forgive yourself. I promise you. Ain’t nothing like death to erect a barrier that your best intentions can never cross.”

  Josh squeezed Sidewinder’s shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

  He wasn’t sure he would, or could think about talking to his grandfather again. Open himself up for the possibility of more rejection from the one man who’d meant so much to him? After all these years of silence. No. He knew what Saul Cohen thought about him. He’d written Josh off a long time ago. Josh didn’t need to reopen those wounds.

  Nothing good would come from it.

  It was like slamming your fingers in a door. You learned not to do it again.

  “You think about calling him,” Sidewinder said, “and, in the meantime, start working up a business plan to turn this place into a bona fide music café that draws tourists to this island, you understand?”

  “You’re going to do what to my café?” Jordan’s voice rose as she thundered toward Josh. “You did not just say he’s going to make this a music café that draws people from far and wide?”

  “Sure did, missy. Someone’s got to earn their keep. You sure won’t.” Sidewinder smiled a satisfied smile. “Josh here is trying to make up his mind now about whether he’s going to do it or not, so why don’t you keep harping at him and that might just push him right over the edge into the village camp. You know we all been looking for ways to bring in revenue.”

  “What do you mean?” Josh asked looking between the two of them. “Why does the town need money?”

  Jordan pursed her lips, buttoned up tight as a keg.

  Sidewinder didn’t have the same qualms. “Serenity is dying. Businesses closing left and right. No one important cares or has a solution.” He turned his head toward Jordan. “And she’s too stubborn or too wounded to help us. Won’t trade on her past celebrity status. But, you, dear boy, might be Serenity’s salvation.”

  “Huh.” Josh grinned. “Well, at least someone thinks I’m a savior. I kind of like that idea.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you would,” Jordan sniped. “Christ complex, much?”

  “Hey, Jewish boy here.” Josh laughed outright at her.

  She glared at him, hands on her hips. “Do not think you’re going to do this to my café.”

  “I don’t think it’s your café anymore. Didn’t we sign papers? I think the three-hundred-thousand large in your bank account says otherwise.”

  She gave him an eat-shit look. “I will return your money.”

  “Oh, no you won’t. Sorry you can’t have seller’s remorse. Doesn’t work that way. And I think it’s a brilliant idea to renovate this place, open a music café where young artists and musicians can come to flex their musical muscles. Get some performing chops in a small venue. Hell, I could personally mentor a few of them. I’ve wanted to do that for a long while now. Just never had the opportunity or the right venue. Yeah.” He walked around, surveying the space. “Huh. This might actually work.”

  Jordan flushed pink. She was so mad, she couldn’t even speak. If she could release steam, Josh was sure it would be pouring out of her ears. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. Interesting.

  Tony barged through the front door, carrying his guitar case. He waved at them, pulling to a halt at the sight of his aunt looking pissed.

  “Maybe Tony can even get a little exposure if I turn this into a true music café.”

  “Oh, man! Seriously? Dude, I’d love it. When?” Tony’s excitement confirmed Josh’s own interest in the idea.

  “Absolutely not!” Jordan actually stamped he foot.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do.” Tony’s attitude switched instantly from good-natured to surly, mercurial, as only a teen’s temperament could be. His dark eyes turned stormy and he stood taller, leaning forward a little on his toes. “You’re not my mom.”

  Jordan sucked in a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself. “No, I’m not. But I will speak to your mom and advise her that this is against your best interests.”

  “This is everything I’ve always wanted. Why would you do that? Because you’re scared I’ll be like you? Give it up, J.D. I’m not you. I’m me. And I want a music career.”

  Josh saw pain flash across Jordan’s face a moment before she slammed an impassive mask in place. “We’ll just see about that. You still live under my roof.”

  “I can change that today if you like.” Tony squared his shoulders
, standing a little taller, like he was taking on the tiger.

  Jordan blanched white. She knew she’d gone too far. She sucked in another deep breath and blew it out. “Let’s all just calm down, okay? No one is going anywhere. I just don’t think this is the best idea—for you or Serenity.”

  “Or it’s just not best for you? Because you won’t be able to keep hiding?” Tony asked. “You can’t hide forever, J.D. And this town needs a little excitement; it is dying a slow death. This would be great for business.” The kid’s tone had softened into a gentle persuasive appeal.

  Jordan turned to Josh. “You won’t even be around. Who’s going to manage that for you?”

  Josh looked at her. “You’re my café manager right now.”

  “Oh, hell no.” She raised her hands and shook her head decisively. “Uh huh. No way. I quit.” She rushed away from him.

  Josh lunged for her and caught her around the waist. “Hold on there, Jord. What’s your deal?”

  “You know what my deal is. I can’t do this. I can’t have people coming from far and wide. Someone will recognize me.”

  “So what? You have to face your fear and get over it, darling.” He stroked a finger down her cheek.

  “I can’t. You don’t understand. It’s too painful for me. My whole world crashed around me. I won’t have it happen again, not when I’ve finally found a place to call home, when I’ve built a network of friends—my own family. I won’t lose it all again.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t do this.” She wrenched out of his arms and ran into the kitchen.

  Silence descended on the little café. Thick and heavy.

  The men in the room said nothing as they listened to the slamming of pots in the kitchen. And if they heard a sob underlying the ruckus, they didn’t comment on it.