Kiara could hear the sound of footsteps, but they weren’t getting closer, they were going away.
“Camille?” she called. “Cam! Camille!”
Camille had left her, and she was locked up as a form of punishment. The last time she had been locked in a room being punished she was a teenager. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her cell, she at least had someone she could call to get her out.
Until she looked at her phone and realized she was stuck until Cam came to get her. There was no service in the dressing room.
Chapter Seventeen
“Mr. Anderson!”
“Not again,” Jett mumbled as he slowly turned to figure out where the next fire was lit.
There had been numerous costume malfunctions. Three of the stage light bulbs went out. The gears of the mechanism that opened the curtains got stuck and needed attention.
Jett had been turned and tugged and pulled every which way since he’d entered the building hours ago. Wait. He’d actually never left the building after the end of the school day.
He was exhausted already, and the night hadn’t even gotten started. He turned around to see what the latest disaster was. He was met with the mischievous grin of one Camille Harper.
It had been hard the last two days looking over at the little girl who had her mother’s eyes and grin. Jett had refrained from asking the little girl how her mother was. That would be entirely inappropriate to involve Camille in their relationship.
Jett just hoped there would be a relationship after tonight. He had everything set for his part in the performance. They just needed to get this show on the road first.
“Yeah, Camille.” Jett looked closer at the budding young woman. Camille wasn’t grinning, she was grimacing. “What’s wrong?”
“My music is lost. I need to find my sheet music. I think I left it in one of the dressing rooms. Can you help me find it?” She begged, her gaze pleading, her lips quivering.
“Grab Alison to help you look,” he suggested to the girl who could have easily used anyone for her emergency. This was a minor issue. Jett still had major ones to check off his list.
“Please, I need you. Please,” she begged him. “My mother is looking too. But I figured two heads were better than one.”
That caught his attention. Kiara was backstage? He could have a moment alone with her before the concert.
And besides that, taking a breather, going into the back would be a nice break from the hustle of the main floor. There was so much going on even just a couple minutes of quiet would be better than nothing. And he’d thought touring had been crazy. At least then someone else had been in control of the chaos.
Following Camille, he worked to keep up as she took off at a rapid pace to the back hallway. It was quiet as she stopped at a door and opened it. She motioned for him to enter first. Warning bells sounded in Jett’s ear, but when he heard the unmistakable rasp of Kiara’s voice he stepped into the room.
And there she was. She was once more out of scrubs and in a dress tonight. Her hair was up and her eyes wide. She looked like she’d just stepped out of his dreams.
Seconds later, the door shut behind him and he heard the distinct click of the lock. Peering around, he saw that the lock on the door was engaged from the outside.
“I think Camille has a plan,” Kiara said as she shook her head.
“Fairly obvious,” Jett said back, as they both stared at each other instead of at the closed and locked door.
“I do!” Camille shouted from the other side of the door. “It’s your chance, Mama. Stop being afraid.”
Jett joined Kiara, who sat on one of the old benches in the room. She peered up at him through her eyelashes. “What are you afraid of?”
Kiara glanced away from him. She was quiet for so long that he wasn’t sure she was going to answer his question. But he needed to get her answer while looking in her eyes. He placed his finger under her chin, lifting her face to his, and left it so he could look into the eyes that had kept him captivated since the day she entered his classroom.
“So much,” she sighed. “But mostly of getting hurt again. I’ve been alone so long for a reason. For me, getting hurt, hurts my daughter. I have more than my heart to protect and I put up my defenses with you.”
“I understand everything you’re saying.” His voice was soft, gentle, as though he were coaxing a wounded animal with bits of sweets. He didn’t want to spook Kiara. He wanted to bring her back into his arms. He wanted to let her know that she would be safe there. “You have to know I would never hurt you. I want everything that is the best for you. I want to be the person who puts that light in your eyes. I want to show you I can be here for you and for Camille.”
Kiara took a deep breath. Jett felt it shudder as she let it out. Her sweet sigh touched his lips and he wanted to drink her in. They hadn’t kissed on either of their dates. He hadn’t wanted to rush anything with her. He’d wanted to take his time. But now he came in closer.
“Camille wasn’t the only one with a plan tonight,” he said. “I’m going to make an announcement at the end of the performance. It has to do with you. In fact, it’s due in large part, to my feelings for you.”
Kiara gasped. More of her sweetness hit his bottom lip. Jett was having trouble focusing on his words, but he had to get this out. He had to let her know how he truly felt before another moment passed between them.
“But I can’t wait much longer,” he said. “So, I guess I can tell you now.”
“Tell me what?”
“I’m embarking on a career shift.”
“What kind of career shift? Are you taking Mr. Cohen’s job?”
“No,” chuckled Jett. “Not if I want to keep his friendship, and I do. What I’ve come to realize is that I miss being around my friends on a regular basis.”
Her face fell and her gaze dipped. “So, you’re still leaving?”
She turned away from him, but he didn’t let her get far. It was easy since they were trapped in a closet. He didn’t reach for her chin this time. He reached around her waist and brought her to him. She needed to know he never wanted to be parted from her again.
“There will be some travel involved,” he said. “But I’d like to have a home base in Baltimore, which is only thirty minutes from here.”
A spark of hope lit her eyes. But just as soon as it ignited, it dimmed. “Jett, what are you talking about?”
“I’ve decided to become a talent scout. I’ve loved developing the raw talent I’ve found in these halls. I want to do it full-time.”
“That sounds fantastic,” she beamed. “It sounds right up your alley.”
“That’s not the only thing I want in my alley.” Jett took both her hands in his and stared deeply into his eyes. “I also want you.”
The breath Kiara took in this time was shaky, but the hope didn’t die out of her eyes this time. She lifted her gaze and held his.
“I’m ready for love, I’m ready for you,” he affirmed, giving her the truth buried deep down in his heart, the very heart he’d never given to anyone, but wanted to give to her with everything he had in him. “Listen to your daughter. Don’t let your fear control you.”
“That’s easier said than done,” Kiara pointed out.
“I know, but I’m here. We can move at your pace, but let’s do this.” He drew closer to the woman who filled his heart closer to the rim the more time he spent with her.
“Okay,” she whispered, his face mere inches from hers.
He could feel her cool breath on his lips and knew there was no time like the present. He pressed his lips to hers in a gentle, soft kiss. He felt her lips curve into a smile against his, and he knew all was right in the world.
The door opened and Camille stood gawking. “Eww, get a room!”
Kiara let out a loud laugh. “You got what you wanted, missy. Are you happy?”
Camille smiled wider than the Cheshire cat. “Yes, now let’s do this concert!”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Jett said, lacing his fingers with Kiara’s. “I think we’re a good idea, too.”
“I agree,” she said sweetly, wrapping her arm around him and leaning her head against him. “I definitely agree.”
Epilogue
The suspense was killing Camille as she sat in her pajamas on the living room couch. It was Christmas morning and the tree was overflowing with presents. She’d woken up and bounced downstairs to where her mom and Jett were cooking breakfast together. She loved watching them as they laughed and enjoyed the morning with each other.
But she looked away when they started kissing. They were always kissing. Hopefully, there would be a benefit to Camille for that constant display of affection.
“Hurry up!” Camille yelled from her place on the couch, ready to tear open some boxes.
“We’re coming!” Kiara announced from the kitchen and soon appeared with a mug of coffee and Jett right behind her with a plate of Christmas cookies Camille had made the night before.
“Can I open one now? Please?” Camille begged her mother who nodded in response. Camille let out a whoop and jumped down to the tree.
Instantly she noticed a small box with her name on it. There were so many things it could be, but there was only one thing she really asked her mom for.
Tearing the paper away from the gift, she gasped as she saw the box’s label. It was the very phone she’d asked for. Jumping up and down she screamed in excitement only to find them laughing.
Camille saw them as Jett wrapped an arm around her mom’s shoulder and pulled her in for a kiss. Camille had never seen her mom so happy, and she caught herself smiling.
“I’m sure you’re happy. It was the one thing you really wanted,” Kiara pointed out.
“Yeah,” she said. “But there was something else I wanted more, and I got it.”
“Really?” her mom asked. “It was the only thing you wrote on your list. What else did you want?”
“Your happiness,” Camille stated proudly.
Kiara peered up at her daughter and tears began to drip down her cheeks. She joined Camille on the couch and placed her head on her shoulder.
“It’s all I ever wanted, Mama. All I could ever want for us.”
What’s Next?
Read the prologue of MOMMY LOVES THE DOGGY DOCTOR book 6 of Mommy’s Little Matchmakers…
“When my mommy looks at me, she always gets sad.”
Gwenny Alvine couldn’t pump her legs back and forth on the swing like most little girls, so it was harder for her to swing as high as other little girls her age. Because of a car accident, she was completely paralyzed from the waist down.
She used to love to run and play like the rest of the kids, but now her legs didn’t move at all. Now her legs hung like her rag dolly’s. Her doctor told her that her muscles had atrophied—a big word for such a little girl, but Gwenny loved learning new words. Mommy said she had a really big vo-ca-bu-la-ry for her age, and that made her proud, because it made her Mommy smile when she said it.
Being in a wheelchair didn’t stop Gwenny from using the swing on the school playground, or most anything else she wanted to do. She’d found by experimenting she just had to do things differently than other girls. Sometimes it was harder for her to do a thing, but when had something being hard stopped Gwenny Alvine?
In the case of the swing, she had to work harder pumping her arms and pulling her shoulders back and forth than the other kids with working legs did, that was all.
She could do that—and she did.
Oh—and of course she needed someone to help her onto and off the swing and back into her wheelchair. Luckily, she had a really nice teacher here at Barton Elementary, Ms. Johnson, who was happy to help Gwenny get where she needed to go so she could have fun during recess.
“My mommy used to be sad, too, until she met my new daddy, Jett. He’s a rock star, and he’s so cool! I’ll bet if you get your mommy a new daddy, she’ll be happy again, too,” offered her friend Camille.
Gwenny thought about that for a moment. She knew Mommy missed Daddy a lot. He had been in the same accident that paralyzed Gwenny, but he had died in the hospital a few days later.
Gwenny was sad her daddy was gone, too, but not as much as mommy was. She sometimes heard Mommy crying in the night when she thought Gwenny was asleep.
There was nothing she’d like better than to make Mommy happy again. And if that meant finding her a new husband and herself a new daddy, then that is what she would do.
“Maybe you’re right,” Gwenny said thoughtfully. “Maybe Mommy does need a new husband.”
Gwenny waved to Ms. Johnson and asked to be picked off the swing and returned her to her wheelchair.
“Let’s go over by the tunnel and you can tell me how you got your mommy to fall in love with your new daddy.”
Camille smiled. “First, you have to find the exact right man for your mommy and you. Then it’s super fun and sneaky. You just have to plan ways for them to be together, and before you know it, you have an awesome new daddy.”
Gwenny knit her brow in concern. “I don’t think my mommy knows any men who would be good for her to marry.”
“Hmmm,” her friend said, climbing atop the tunnel.
For a moment, Gwenny wished she could stand up out of her wheelchair and climb on top of the tunnel like Camille, or even crawl inside it and put her legs up.
But only for a moment.
She wasn’t going to let being stuck in a wheelchair get her down. She had too many fun things to do.
And now, she had something new and exciting to plan—something she could definitely do from a wheelchair.
Find a new daddy for Mommy to fall in love with.
What happens next?
Don’t wait to find out…
Head to Amazon to purchase or borrow your copy of MOMMY LOVES THE DOGGY DOCTOR so that you can keep reading this sweet romance series today!
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Read the first chapter of LOVE’S PRAYER, book 1 of the FIRST STREET CHURCH ROMANCES…
Ben Davis had once believed in God. He had once believed in miracles, fate, divine intervention, and all the similar lies people tell themselves to get through the day. Perhaps if he still believed, he wouldn’t find himself so tempted to never get out of bed—not even to eat—and to eventually die a slow, private death in the only place that still offered him any comfort at all.
On this day, a Thursday, he spent longer than usual blinking up at the ceiling and wondering if he should just end it all with a swift bullet to the brain. After all, that’s what his older brother, Stephen, had done seven years ago. He’d wandered into the town square and shot himself clean in the face for all of Sweet Grove to see. People still talked about it to this day, and those who didn’t speak of it definitely thought of it.
Like his mother, Susan. She waded through the memories, attempting to silence them with the bottle. But even though the liquor often ran out, her grief remained endless, unquenchable.
Ben wasn’t saddened by the loss of his brother. Even though he sometimes felt as if he should be. No, he was angry—rage was another unquenchable commodity in the Davis household. Stephen had selfishly chosen to end it all. He’d hurled his issues straight at Ben, who, ever since that day, had been tasked with paying the mortgage, tending to their mother who had spiraled down the dark path of addiction, and without an outlet to enjoy any of the things he had spent years working toward and hoping for.
He’d turned down his full-ride scholarship to college, because he needed to take care of things in Sweet Grove—things that only got worse the more his mother was left to grapple with her grief. Recovery remained a summit she just couldn’t reach, no matter how hard she climbed. So he’d turned the university down year after year, and eventually the admissions board had stopped asking.
Which left him here today, staring up at the popcorn ceiling above his twin-size bed, no longer bothering to wonder if lif
e could ever be any different. At 6:12, he placed one foot after another onto the shaggy carpet and went to clean up for work. At 6:25, he was out the door with a piece of half-toasted bread in one hand and a banana in the other. He had five minutes to make the short walk from the quaint—and “quaint” was putting it kindly—home he shared with his mother to the local market where he worked as a bagger and delivery boy. Yes, even his job title suggested a temporary arrangement, a job better suited to a boy than the twenty-four year old man he had become.
“Good morning!” sang his boss, Maisie Bryant, as he tromped through the sliding glass doors. Each morning she arranged a fresh display of local produce and other seasonal specialties right at the front of the shop. As always, she took great pride in her work.
Ben hated that his boss was only a couple of years older than him. Maisie had managed to escape town long enough to earn a degree before returning to run her family’s grocery store. While he didn’t know the exact numbers, he could bet that the youngest Bryant child made at least triple what he did for the same day’s work. But that was life for you—or at least for Ben. Never fair, not in the least.
“Don’t I get a hello?” Maisie teased him as always. Some days he liked her chipper demeanor. This was not one of those days.”
“Hi,” he mumbled. “I’m going to go check the stock. See you in a bit.”
“Wait,” she called before he could manage to make his escape. “I’ll handle the stock. The staff over at Maple’s called, and they need a delivery first thing. Think you can handle that? The purchase order is on the clock desk.”
“Yeah, I got it.”
Ben hurried to put the order together and load up the designated Sweet Grove Market truck. A smiling red apple beamed from the side of the cargo box. He hated that thing, but he did like having the opportunity to drive around a little, let the wind wash over him as he rolled about town. It sure beat walking everywhere, and since it offered his only opportunity to get behind the wheel, he relished every chance he got. Occasionally, Maisie would let him borrow the truck to head into the next town over and lose himself in the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Mommy Loves the Rockstar Page 8
