by Jen Gilroy
“I should be.” Annie’s stomach tightened. She’d kept herself hidden away for so long that maybe the fears had gotten bigger. “I appreciate you both care about me.” She raised her voice above the noise of the exercise equipment. “But I swear, there’s nothing going on between Seth and me.” Even though she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
“Annie?” Tara’s usually soft voice was almost shrill.
“What?” She flipped the treadmill dial to a higher setting. “Seth’s a friend, that’s all. I’m not having sex with him or anyone else.” There had to be an easier way to burn fat and get in shape. The treadmill noise on either side of her stopped, and her breath was loud in the sudden silence.
“Hey, Annie.”
That deep Southern voice was the same one she heard on the radio every morning. Her head jerked up. Seth stood in front of her treadmill, wearing black gym shorts and a white T-shirt. He had a gym bag slung over one shoulder, his dark hair curled against his neck, and his skin had a healthy flush.
“Hey.” She hit the treadmill dial again and staggered to a halt. Her face burned. “What are you doing here?” Her and her big mouth. He must have heard what she’d said, right down to the fact she wasn’t having sex with him—which might give him the idea she’d thought about it. She cringed.
“I use the weight room here. This is the only gym in town.” He nodded at Tara and Rowan before his gaze slid back to Annie.
“Tara and I were about to hit the showers.” Rowan gave Annie a speculative look. “Tara?”
Tara glanced at Annie, too. “Right. See you at work in the morning.”
“But you said you wanted . . .” Annie’s stomach fluttered, and she scratched a black fly bite on the inside of her wrist.
“Change of plans.” Tara grabbed her water bottle from the holder and raised her eyebrows. “Rowan and I have to make tracks.”
And where was her sisterly support when she needed it? Annie took the towel she’d hung over the treadmill and wrapped it around her shoulders. Although her workout gear—a gray tank top and black leggings—wasn’t revealing, in front of Seth, she felt as exposed as if she’d been naked.
She slugged water to ease her dry throat. “Rowan and Tara mean well, but they can, you know, get involved in stuff that’s none of their business.” She’d lived with that mixture of love and interference her whole life, but despite how it sometimes irritated her, she couldn’t imagine being without it.
“That sounds a lot like small-town life, too.” Seth grinned, and the twinkle in his eyes eased Annie’s tight breathing.
“You’re new in town, and there’s not a lot going on, so people like to talk. But it’s also part of being sisters. Tara and Rowan always have my back and that’s great, but, before you know it, closeness can turn into nosiness.”
“It’s okay.” At the tenderness in his expression, her knees went weak. “But just so you know, you may not be having sex with me, but I’m glad you’re not having it with anyone else right now, either.” His lips tilted into a smile that could have melted her into a puddle right there on the treadmill.
Annie tried to smile back like what he’d said was a joke, instead of something that could change everything about their relationship that wasn’t a relationship. “I should . . . uh . . .” She gestured in the direction of the locker room.
He studied her for a moment, then detachment replaced the tenderness. “Before you go, have you thought any more about singing at the fundraiser? If you’re going to do it, I can help you work on your song.”
She took a shaky breath. Seth was as persistent as Dolly following a scent, but Rowan was right. She had to face her fears, and if she did, it would help her daughter, too. “I’ll do it, but only if Hannah sings backup vocals and you accompany us.” She needed to sing for herself but having Seth and Hannah there too would give her courage.
“You . . . I’d be honored.” He leaned toward her and took a step closer. “It’s a deal.”
“My mom said we needed to find something fun. That’s why I thought of the talent show, but if the three of us do a special number, we could close the evening.” She stepped off the treadmill, and her legs were like jelly. “Folks love your radio show, and Hannah’s pestered me for months to let her get up on the Black Duck stage. She’s already entered the talent show, but she wants to do more. If she sings with me, she can.” She made herself give him an impersonal smile. “What do you think?”
“It’s great.” His voice hitched. “You won’t regret it.”
Sweat not from her workout trickled between her breasts. “You don’t know that.” And she already regretted too much.
“No, but what I do know is I don’t want anybody or anything to hurt you, or Hannah, either.” His eyes darkened to a smoky blue-gray. “If you two are sharing that stage with me, I’ll have your backs. Not like your sisters do, of course, but as much as I can.”
She didn’t doubt his sincerity, but she also needed to make sure he understood. “It’s more than being on stage.” The silence stretched between them, and she had to force her mouth to shape the next words. “It’s Hannah. She’s young and impressionable, and she has big dreams.” Her eyes smarted. Her daughter also had stars in her eyes, and when she talked about the future, it always came up roses with no thought of thorns lurking amidst those beautiful bright blooms. “She’s a lot like I was at her age. I don’t want anybody to give her false expectations so I . . . I need your help.”
“You got it.” Seth’s voice was rough.
“Thanks.” Annie pushed her shoulders back, realizing too late the gesture also pushed out her breasts.
“Tell me what you need.” His gaze drifted to her chest then slid back to her face. “And what you’re thinking.” He leaned even closer and trailed an index finger across the curve of her cheek.
Even though she might want to, she couldn’t. The blood pounded in her ears, and she stared mutely at him before she mumbled something unintelligible then turned away and headed to the locker room.
~ ~ ~
Something about Irish Falls had crumbled Seth’s defenses. Or maybe it was Annie, the woman he’d barely stopped thinking about since she’d almost run from him at the gym two days before.
To keep himself from looking at her yet again, he glanced around her living room instead. Blue and green pillows were piled on a taupe sofa, and a wooden rocking chair, holding a rag doll, sat in a sunny corner by a set of French doors. A leafy potted palm stood beside an upright piano, and several red and white geranium plants perched atop a low bookcase stuffed with books and music. From the two cats snuggled into an armchair in the front hall to the rustic wicker furniture on the porch, Annie’s home was more storybook adorable than designer sleek, and it suited her.
He straightened the penciled sheet music on the stand in front of him. “Do you want to take it from the top again?” If he focused on music, his mind wouldn’t wander to other things, like how comfortable he was not only in this house, but also with Annie and her daughter.
Hannah gave a little skip, and her red hair bounced around her shoulders. “Whatever you say.” She glanced at Annie. “Mom?”
“Sure.” Annie’s expression was guarded, and there was a worried crease between her eyebrows.
Seth adjusted the strap on Jake’s Gibson and tapped out the beat with his foot. Annie’s voice rose in the first notes of her song, and he drew in a breath. She was a dream to accompany, with an instinctive feel for the music. And each note that had come out of her mouth since they’d begun rehearsing had confirmed his first impression. She had a huge talent, and it was wasted in Irish Falls.
His fingers caressed the guitar strings like Jake’s once had. He might not have any time for the man who’d fathered him, but whether he liked it or not, holding the guy’s Gibson made an intangible, but irrevocabl
e, connection between them. He nodded at Hannah, and she grinned before her voice joined Annie’s. He’d worked out a new arrangement so Hannah could sing backup vocals, leaving Annie’s melody unchanged but adding depth, or what he thought of as light and shade, to the deceptively simple tune.
He concentrated on the music and a tricky bit of harmony as Hannah’s voice blended with her mom’s. The teen was an alto, not mezzo-soprano, and her singing had a different timbre. But, like Annie, Hannah had a spark. And although only sixteen, she already had the looks and personality to light up a stage.
He’d promised Annie she wouldn’t regret singing at the fundraiser, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t push her, or Hannah, either. But he couldn’t stand by without at least trying to help and if he opened the door, opportunities would surely follow.
Annie held the final note, and her powerful voice resonated in the quiet room until he played the last chord.
“Did I sing that last part like you wanted?” Hannah’s eyes sparkled and she bounced on her bare feet.
“You were fabulous.” Seth gave her a high five. “Both of you are going to be a big hit at that fundraiser.”
Hannah hugged Annie. “You’re the best mom ever to let me do this. It’s a dream come true.” She turned to Seth. “I don’t know what you said to my mom to convince her to do this, but thanks.”
“I don’t think I said anything.” Except, maybe he’d helped her begin to believe in herself again, if only a little. But no matter why Annie had changed her mind, he was glad she had.
“It was okay, really?” Uncertainty and vulnerability mingled in Annie’s voice.
“More than okay. The two of you are terrific.”
He had a lot of reasons to be pissed off at Jake, but he was grateful to him for at least one thing. Without his legacy, Seth would never have come to Irish Falls and met this woman with a talent that blew him away, even as it humbled him. And if she sang at the Black Duck like she had today in her living room, she couldn’t go back to only singing on Sundays in the church choir or helping out with music at the school.
Annie flushed. “Thanks.”
“What’s your song called? It’s not on the music I’m using to accompany you and since I’m hosting the show too, I have to announce you.”
“It’s . . .” Annie glanced at Hannah, whose fingers darted over her phone’s keypad. “I call it ‘My Hometown Heart’ because, in a way, it’s about Irish Falls.”
And the song was as natural and without artifice as she was today in faded jeans and a blue top with a little ruffle at the hem. Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. Even though Hannah was right there and, despite all the reasons he shouldn’t let himself be attracted to Annie, warmth flooded Seth’s body. The chaste kiss on her soft cheek he couldn’t forget hung between them.
“Don’t you think it’s a great name?” Hannah bumped his shoulder. “For Mom, I mean. If it were my song, it would be lame, but for her it’s perfect.”
“It is perfect.” Like her. His fingers tingled, and he took a step back.
“I have a great idea.” Hannah’s grin was as open and uncomplicated as Dylan’s used to be. “Most of the kids at my school listen to your show, and when I told them how you sang for us at my grandma’s house, a bunch of them want to hear you sing, too.”
“Hannah—” Annie shot her daughter a warning glance.
“Hear me out before you say no. I think you and Mom should sing ‘Country on the Radio’ together. You know, that Blake Shelton song?” She hummed a few bars and swayed in time. “Grandma’s a huge Blake Shelton fan. It’s real embarrassing sometimes, but she’d love it if you sang one of his songs. Since you play country music on the station, that song is perfect, don’t you think? I have the music.” Hannah gave him a hopeful look, mixed with the kind of face Seth remembered Dylan making a few years back. Like adults were a different species and teenagers only tolerated them because they were a source of food, money, and rides to wherever the kid wanted to go.
“Seth is already accompanying us and hosting the show. Maybe he doesn’t want to do anything more.” Annie’s face flushed as rosy as her geraniums.
“Sure, why not? It would be fun,” Seth said. “Besides, when we first talked about the fundraiser, I said I’d be happy to sing with you.” And since Irish Falls was like the town in Blake’s song, Hannah’s idea was clever and sweet. He and Annie would bring the house down if they closed the show with it. “What do you say, Annie-Bella?”
Her breath stuttered. “Okay.”
“Only family call my mom Annie-Bella.” Hannah glanced between them, her expression quizzical.
“I’m sorry, I—”
“It’s fine.” Annie sat on the piano bench and shuffled sheet music.
Seth rubbed the back of his neck. Her nickname had slipped out, but somehow it felt as right as her house and everything else about her.
“Since this fundraiser is about helping families and bringing everyone together, why don’t you invite your son to come and see the show?” Annie half turned on the bench. “Can he get time off work for the Memorial Day weekend?”
Seth’s heart constricted. “I asked him about visiting a while back, but he’s got plans with his girlfriend and her family.”
“Oh.” Her expression was thoughtful. “Well, if you want to go and see him after the weekend, I could ask Steve if he’s free to cover the show for you if it’s only a few days. You must want to go back to LA, too. When you came here, you didn’t expect to stay long. You must need to pick up clothes and whatever.”
“I had some things shipped out.” Like Jake, Seth travelled light and, for everything else, there was online shopping. Although he didn’t want to go to LA, he did want to see his son. Maybe Dylan’s plans had changed since that one stilted phone call. And if he could talk to him face-to-face, he’d have a better chance of fixing what had gone wrong between them.
“It’s too bad Dylan can’t be here, but since you won’t be spending time with him, you have to join our family’s Memorial Day barbecue.” Along with the chirpy tone in her voice, Hannah’s riot of curly red hair and big eyes were an irresistible combination. “My grandma always says the more the merrier. Holidays are huge in our family. Even Groundhog Day is an event.”
“Hannah.” Annie sat rigid on the piano bench, with a panicked expression.
“I appreciate the thought, but we’ll see.” Seth tried to smile at Hannah. He’d never been big on holidays, large or small, although he’d made an effort when Dylan was little. “If we’re going to sing ‘Country on the Radio,’ we’d better practice it.” He grabbed the guitar and strummed a few chords. Music would get his mind back where it belonged, and the strings against his fingers soothed him like they always did.
He had to fix the mess he’d made of his own family before he got involved with someone else’s. He moved to the far side of the room and gazed out the French doors into Annie’s backyard, where a robin drank from a stone bird bath.
“Whatever’s gone wrong between you and Dylan, it’ll be all right.” Annie’s voice was soft at his side. “I always tell Hannah that no matter how bad you think things are, you always have a chance to start over.”
“You think so?” He blinked and his throat burned. He wasn’t used to feeling so off balance—with his son, work, and, most of all, a woman.
“I’m sure of it.” She touched his arm, gentle but fleeting.
Seth gulped. “Thanks.” He’d tried to convince himself there was no place for a woman in his life, at least not now. But he already knew life didn’t always happen the way you expected. Maybe he couldn’t let himself think about opening up his life to Annie, but he also didn’t want to think about what it would be like to leave here and leave her behind.
Chapter 12
“You look fantast
ic.” Sitting cross-legged on the end of Annie’s bed, with her elbows on a stack of blue and white ruffled pillows, Tara gave her a warm smile.
“Awesome.” Holly hovered beside Annie.
Annie considered herself in the mirror on the back of the closet door. The jeans Tara had helped her pick out, on their shopping trip to the outlet mall in Lake George, hugged her hips and accentuated curves she’d forgotten she had. “Maybe this top is too low cut.” She turned sideways and sucked in her stomach by instinct.
“Not with a rack like yours.” Next to Tara on the bed, Rowan’s voice was amused. “Most of the time I see you in a Quinn’s apron, so I’d almost forgotten what you’ve got underneath. It’s not only your voice that’s going to give Irish Falls a show.”
“Drop it, Rowan.” Her sister had hit on one of the many things Annie was afraid of. The jade top Tara had also insisted she buy had a scoop neck edged with tiny silver sparkles and was even more formfitting than the jeans. She craned her head over her shoulder to get a back view.
Tara got up from the bed and lifted Annie’s hair away from her neck. “I’ll put your hair up, but if I leave a few curls to brush your shoulders, you’ll look so sexy you’ll knock Seth off his boots.” She gave a throaty laugh.
“Assuming Annie wants to knock the guy sideways.” Rowan got up, too, and swung her purse by its strap.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Holly patted Annie’s bare shoulders. “You look beautiful, honey, and you’ll sing like an angel on Saturday night. We’ll all be there to cheer you on.”
“Thank you.” But having her whole family there was another kind of stress. What if she disappointed them, as well as herself?
“I’m sorry I teased you.” Rowan blew Annie a kiss. “I have to go because the kids have soccer practice tonight, but you totally rock that outfit. You’re going to rock the Black Duck, too.” Her footsteps clattered on the uncarpeted stairs, then the front door banged behind her.
