by Jen Gilroy
Seth shook his head. “No.” He’d only just started writing songs for himself again. His muse was still too fragile to share it with anyone. “Annie’s pretty set on keeping her life the way it is. It took a lot of convincing to get her to record this one song.” He turned his chair around too so he didn’t have to see the keyboard player flirting with Annie—and fight a sudden, irrational urge to charge out of the control room and throttle a kid who couldn’t have been more than twenty-three. “She also wants to protect Hannah. You know what this business is like.”
“I do, but Hannah seems like a girl who’ll get what she wants.” Pete’s smile was amused. “She’s got talent, youth, and looks on her side, so if she works hard and sticks to it, who knows what might happen? But I doubt Rick would be interested in her, at least not yet. However, the guy is connected with a lot of people who’d kill to record a song like Annie’s.”
“True, but I have to take it slow.” Seth rubbed a hand through his hair, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Annie’s a single parent, and Hannah’s dad was out of the picture before she was born. Annie went to Nashville when she only a year or so older than Hannah and met him there. He was a musician and, from the sounds of it, a real dick. Thanks to him, when I met Annie, she was afraid to sing or draw attention to herself in any way. She’s come a long way since April.”
“Not only in her music.” Pete spoke around a mouthful of one of Tara’s butter tarts. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re having a thing with her?” He gave Seth a slow sideways smile.
“It’s . . . nothing’s official.” Seth heartbeat hammered in his ears and he stared at his boots.
Pete snorted. “You’ve fallen for more than Annie’s music. You were about to pitch a fit the way that keyboard guy looked at her. If you ask me, it’s about time.”
“I didn’t ask you.” Seth’s tone was harsher than he’d intended. He swung his chair back around.
On the other side of the window, Annie strummed the guitar with a faraway look on her face, and the keyboard player had gone back to where he was supposed to be behind Hannah.
“Sorry, I haven’t . . . we haven’t . . .”
“No, but you’re fixing to, and soon.” Pete swiveled and tilted his head to one side. “What’s Amanda up to these days?”
“The usual.” Seth’s stomach knotted.
“Too bad.” Pete shrugged. “But it’s nothing to do with you.”
It wasn’t, so after all these years, why was Seth still so wary of getting involved with any other woman? And why was he so scared to think about, let alone say, the word love?
“Why did you marry Amanda anyway? That was one break-up I saw coming a mile away.” Pete grabbed another butter tart.
“She got pregnant. I wanted to do the right thing.” Except, it had turned out to be the wrong thing—not only for him, but Dylan too. “It is what it is.” And as much as he’d beat himself up for his choices, it didn’t change the outcome and he didn’t want to imagine what his life would be like without his son.
“My wife and I will have to take a trip to Irish Falls one of these days.” Pete waved a half-eaten tart in Seth’s direction. “These are great. And if there are any other singers like Annie tucked away in that valley, the two of us could start some kind of new business venture.”
“My lumpy bed is yours any time you want it.” Pete was a cross between the big brother and the dad Seth had never had. “You’d still work with me after . . .?”
“Why not?” Pete licked his sticky fingers. “None of what happened in LA was your fault. Anybody who knows you would never think you’d be involved in any wrongdoing. And once things settle . . . people there have short memories, you’ll be fine. You’ll go back, won’t you?”
“I guess so.” Although the prospect was less appealing than it used to be. “For now, though, the radio station gig is working out.” He glanced at Annie, who had her back to him, chatting to the keyboard player again, her red-gold hair cascading down her back. “If you visit, you can guest on my morning show.”
“Don’t count on it.” Pete grinned. “I never liked the limelight. I thought I’d miss LA, but I don’t. People here are real, you know?” His expression sobered. “I’m heading for retirement, but you should still be in the fast lane. Next you’ll tell me you’ve got a dog and you’re playing in a darts league in some country bar.”
“One out of two.” And it sure felt good. “The dog is called Dolly.” Seth grinned back. “Irish Falls has grown on me.”
“The place or the woman?”
“None of your business.” Seth gave Pete a flat stare. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Bless your heart.” Pete elbowed him, then his deep laugh rolled out. “Living in the boonies sure has changed you.”
“For the better.” Seth made a face. “There are more cows than clubs around here, too.”
“A few of those cows in that field are mine. I’ve started a hobby farm.” Pete looked away, and his teasing expression slipped. “Life’s short and it’s precious. My wife had a breast cancer scare before we moved here. She’s fine, but it put a lot of things into perspective for me. I want to grow old with my family around me, and I spent too much time sitting in freeway traffic. What I’ve got here is real living.”
Whereas, despite his songwriting success, the clients, and the flashy parties, Seth had been drifting in LA. He’d packed a lot into his life, but, apart from the time he spent with Dylan, how much of it had been real living?
“How’s my godson?” Pete’s voice warmed.
“Dylan’s great.” And since his Memorial Day weekend visit, his son messaged and called more than he had, and although the two of them didn’t share what they once did, maybe they were building something better.
“In spite of Amanda, you got lucky, and you raised a good kid.” Pete’s voice was gruff. “In the end, what you leave behind is all that matters.”
“Thanks.” Seth’s throat tightened.
There was a tap on the control room door, then it opened and Annie stuck her head through. “So, how were we? Hannah’s convinced we’re the next hot country-pop duo, so when she comes back from the restroom, please break it to her gently.” Her smile was droll. “You two have been in here long enough to listen to that recording ten times over.”
“You were great.” Pete stood. “I want to work on a few more things and smooth out a couple of edges, but why don’t you take five while I talk to the guys out there?”
Annie stepped away to let Pete through the doorway, and Seth gestured her to the chair his friend had vacated. “He’s right. You were great. I hope hearing somebody else say it, apart from me, means you’ll believe it.”
“Maybe.” Annie grinned. Tendrils of hair curled around her face, and her eyes sparkled. “But now I’ve done it, I have to admit singing here today felt good. You were right.”
Seth grinned back. “I can’t wait to play this recording of ‘My Hometown Heart’ on my show. Trust me, that song is magic.”
“I don’t believe in magic anymore.” Annie’s smile disappeared. “Maybe I never will again, at least not until I find out what happened to Todd. Hannah and I looked on the Internet, but we couldn’t find anything.”
He let out a breath. “Let me help you.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Sure. Don’t you trust me?”
She looked down. “As much as I can trust anyone. “If you haven’t noticed, I have a problem with trust.”
He touched her clenched hands, a brief caress. “You’re not the only one.”
She gave him a jerky nod. “I guess folks in Irish Falls want to hear my song again.”
“They sure do.”
Annie had no idea—and now wasn’t the time to tell her—but playing the song on his show would only
be the start.
“There’s something about it that touches people.”
Like something about her touched him. His heart seemed to freeze, and then it pounded as his gaze locked with hers. “Annie . . . I . . .” He stopped and licked his lips.
“What?” She rolled her chair closer to his.
What they’d been skirting around for weeks hung between them. It was what they both wanted and couldn’t resist any longer. “Hannah . . .”
“Asked me if she could go home with Tara, Rowan and the kids. After we finish here, they want to go to a mall. Tara said Hannah could spend the night at her place.” Annie blew out several short breaths.
Not only was it what they both wanted, but they were old enough to go into it without expectations, regrets, or disappointment. “So we’ll be on our own for the ride back?” Seth’s stomach rolled.
“If it’s okay with you.” She stumbled over the words and avoided his gaze.
It was more than okay, but maybe he needed to put the brakes on. Maybe she wasn’t thinking what he was. “We could have an early dinner here first. Hannah says you like Tex Mex. Pete told me about a place that’s really good. We could celebrate recording your song.” Seth tried to work moisture into his mouth. If dinner was all it was, he was okay with that. Whatever happened between them after dinner would be her call.
“That sounds . . . fun.” Annie touched his forearm, and heat tingled along Seth’s nerve ends.
“Great.” He cleared his throat, and Annie pulled her hand away as Pete came back into the booth.
“Are you ready to run through your song again, Annie? Hannah and the guys are all set.” Pete glanced between the two of them and, when his gaze landed on Seth, his smile was way too perceptive.
“Absolutely,” Annie said. And when she smiled at Seth, her smile was soft and full of sweet promise.
Chapter 18
Annie eased the kitchen door closed on Dolly, then turned back to Seth. Either he was bigger, or her house had all of a sudden shrunk. Or maybe it was neither of those things and she was simply more aware of him than ever before. “Are you sure Dolly will be okay in there?”
“She’ll be fine.” In the muted light, his eyes were dark blue with flecks of silver. “I bet she’s happier than those cats of yours.”
Annie didn’t need the reminder. Hazel and Olivia were used to having the run of the house, but because of Dolly, the kitchen was now off limits. Figuring out logistics for kids and pets when you had a man stay over was only one of the complications of dating at her age.
Although she and Seth weren’t actually dating, were they? She also hadn’t invited him to stay overnight, so she could still change her mind. She sucked in her stomach. She’d been a lot thinner the last time she’d gotten naked with a man, and that was a much more important complication.
“Would you like a drink? I can open a bottle of wine or I have juice, soda or hot cocoa. Although it’s June, it can still get chilly at night.” Annie rubbed her hands down the front of her jeans. She was babbling. And why had she suggested cocoa? It wasn’t the kind of drink you offered a guy if you were thinking about seducing him.
He shook his head. “I’m not thirsty.”
“Was Dolly okay today with Brendan and Holly?” Annie twirled a piece of hair between her fingers. The stairs to the second floor loomed in front of her—stairs that led to her bedroom halfway along the upstairs hall.
“Brendan said Dolly sat by their front door most of the day like she was listening for my truck. When I picked her up, she almost turned somersaults, she was so excited.” Seth’s fingers covered hers and then tunneled into her hair.
“Dolly likes you.” Her breathing sped up as he massaged the tight muscles at the back of her neck, his fingers warm and touch sensual.
Seth’s laugh was low. “I hope you like me, too.”
“Of course.” She shivered as his fingers traced behind her ear and then along her jaw. Liking him wasn’t in doubt. But what if she let herself like him too much?
His hand slipped down her back. “I sure like you.”
Liking each other was good. It meant they were friends. Annie gulped as his hand slid around her waist and up toward her breasts.
“Hannah and my sisters got back okay.” She trembled as Seth stroked her sides through her top. “Tara said she’ll take Hannah out for breakfast tomorrow morning. The Black Duck does a special Sunday breakfast and—”
“Does that mean you want me to stick around until tomorrow morning?” His tone was amused, and then his breath hitched as his hand slipped sideways to cover the slope of her breast.
Her skin burned, and she held her breath. This was what she wanted, wasn’t it? She’d given him all the right signals at the studio, over dinner, and on the drive back to Irish Falls. But it had been so long. Like doing that recording. What if she’d forgotten what she’d once known how to do? She arched closer to him then stilled.
His hand fell away from her breast. “Do you want me to stop?” He took a step back, and her body cooled. “It’s okay if you changed your mind.”
“No, I meant . . . I want this.” And it wasn’t only to banish Todd’s ghost forever, a man who’d exerted too much power over her even long after he was no longer in her life. It was part of becoming the woman she wanted to be—one who didn’t live her life in fear and who listened to—and lived from—her heart. She took his hand and led him up the stairs. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No.” His voice was hoarse. At the top of the stairs, he looked left and right along the narrow hall. “Which way?”
She nodded left. Golden light from the lamp on the bedside table she’d turned on earlier shone through her half-open bedroom door.
Seth swung her into his arms for the few steps to the door and pushed it all the way open before closing it behind them.
Her bed was covered with its familiar floral comforter and stacked with plump pillows. Her pine dresser and matching dressing table sat along opposite walls, with a rocking chair in the corner by the window. Several dark blue rag rugs were scattered across the plank floor. Although the room looked the same as always, it felt different. She was different.
She tucked her face into the crook of Seth’s chin. He must have stopped at his apartment to shower in the short time between dropping her off at home and going to pick up Dolly, because he wore a fresh blue shirt and different jeans. He also smelled of something crisp and citrusy. She kissed the side of his neck, and he shuddered. He set her on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hair away from her face.
“The first thing I noticed about you was your hair.” He wound a tendril around his fingers.
“Even though I was wearing a hairnet because I was at work?” Annie traced the strong contours of his face. He must have shaved, too, because his skin was smooth beneath her fingers, with no beard stubble.
“There were a few little curls sticking out from under the net. I’d never seen anyone with hair like yours.” He dropped a gentle kiss on the curve of her cheek. “I wanted to pull the net off to see if the rest of your hair was as pretty as those curls. Then when you came back from the kitchen with Jake’s key, I saw it was.”
Something shifted near Annie’s heart, and her knees went weak. “When Tara’s around, nobody looks at me, but you did.” And then, as now, the expression on his face all those weeks ago had sent the same heat through her.
“How could I not?” Seth eased her back onto the ruffled pillows at the head of the bed and gave her a slow smile before he lay beside her.
“When you’re one of three sisters close in age, sometimes it feels like that’s all you are. You also get labelled. Tara’s the pretty one, Rowan’s the smart one, and I’m the musical one. I’m the quiet one too so, even before I went to Nashville, I got used to blending into the backg
round.”
“I’ve never compared you with your sisters, and I won’t.” Seth’s voice got rough and, as he leaned on one elbow to look into her face, his gaze was tender. “You’re your own woman all the way through.”
“I won’t compare you with anyone else, either. I did to begin with, but only because on the surface you reminded me of Todd.” Her breath caught. “But now, you don’t and you haven’t for ages. I . . .” She stopped and bit her lip.
“You what?” Seth’s voice was soft, and there was no judgment in his tone.
“It was easier when I thought you were like Todd because it meant . . . I wouldn’t . . .” Her face got warm. “I didn’t want to be attracted to you, but I couldn’t stop it.”
He reached for her hand and laced her fingers with his. “I couldn’t stop it, either. I don’t want to hurt you, and I hope you trust me at least a little bit.”
Her throat clogged. She did. She wouldn’t sleep with him otherwise. “A part of me trusted you right from the start. A lot of people would have taken Dolly to a shelter, but you didn’t. A lot of people who were new in town wouldn’t have pitched in like you did when the river flooded and some folks lost everything.”
“I didn’t do much.” He squeezed her hand. “Talking on the radio isn’t a big deal.”
“At a time like that, it was.” She squeezed back. “Besides, even though you might not have wanted folks to know, you were heaving sandbags, too.”
His cheeks reddened. “How?”
“I have family everywhere, remember?” She gave him a small smile. “And no matter how you feel about Jake and what he did to you, you’ve still respected his station and his show, but you’ve made it your own.”
“Thank you.” His gaze never left hers, and his eyes glowed in the lamplight.
