by Kait Nolan
He nodded and blew out another breath. “Okay. Thanks for finding out. At least it’s just her I have to worry about.”
“We. You’re not in this alone.” She’d keep reminding him until he believed it.
Eyes searching her face, he leaned forward to kiss her temple. “I love you, Abbey.”
Her heart swelled. They’d always been affectionate, always said I love you. It had been important to her and her family that he knew it growing up because he sure as hell wasn’t getting it at home. But it was different, knowing this wasn’t simply friendship. This was what she used to call the big L kind of love. Different and terrifying.
“Did you mean what you said? About not wanting the big contracts?” She hadn’t meant to say it. But it had been on her mind since dinner. They’d only just found their way back to each other, and this was the thing that could rip him away from her again.
If he was perturbed by the question, he didn’t show it. “I’d love the distribution and support. But, if I agree to a multi-album deal, they own me until I deliver on all of them. The cage will be more gilded, but it’s still a cage. I don’t want that. More, I don’t want you to have to deal with that. Nothing about that life would be fair to you.”
Abbey didn’t disagree. And yet… “I don’t want you giving up your dreams for me.” She hesitated before voicing the truth that had been kicking around her brain. “I think maybe you would have if we’d gotten married back when.” Because she wouldn’t have been able to stand it, him being gone all the time. And life on the road simply wouldn’t have been an option for her.
Kyle traced a finger along her brow, down her cheek. “Dreams change. When I was here as a kid, all I wanted was to go. When I left, all I could dream about was you. This chance with you is my dream, and I’m not willing to give it up for anything.”
Her heart rolled over in her chest. “Kyle.”
So long ago, she’d locked away her dreams of a life with him. As she pressed her lips to his, the lid cracked open and those hopes and fantasies crept out, reaching for him. A part of her wanted to pull them back, tuck them away again where they’d be safe. But where had that gotten her? Cut off from her best friend and the love of her life for a decade? Wasn’t it better to be brave and reach for what she’d always wanted? He was worth the risk. And she owed it to both of them to believe in him and them.
Easing back, she pressed her brow to his. “How are we going to make this work?”
“I don’t know. But a wise woman told me the power is in my hands. I just have to use it.” He kneaded her nape with strong fingers. “No one ever believed in me like you do.”
If she’d so fully believed in him, would they have spent the past ten years not talking? Shoving away the guilt, she kept her tone light. “Just calling it like I see it.”
“I like how you see it.”
Relaxing into him again, she tipped her head to his shoulder. “If you could build exactly the career you wanted, what would it look like?”
“More small venues. Intimate shows, without all the glitz and glam, where the focus is on the music, not the production value. Nothing but my own music. Time and space to write it. And I’d like to have time to give back to at-risk kids. I would have turned out a lot different without your family. Without Joan. I want to be able to do that without my label wanting to make it a publicity stunt.”
“None of that seems like too big an ask.” It wasn’t about more money or more fame. That had never been what drove him.
“We’ll see, I guess.” He shifted his fingers from her nape to her shoulder, kneading the knots that seemed like permanent residents there. “What about you? What do you want?”
What did she want? When was the last time anyone had asked her that?
“I don’t know. Moving back home was never the plan. But my parents needed help, and I certainly don’t begrudge them that. I’m grateful to get this extra time with Granddaddy. Plus, coming back to the Ridge and opening the spa has been great. I love what we’ve built there, and I get to work with my best friends every day. I’m happy here in a way I didn’t think I’d be. But I guess I want the chance for more room for me. I’m not used to thinking about that anymore.”
“You never were. You always put others first. I can’t remember a single time you were selfish that didn’t involve eating all the strawberry Sour Patch Kids.”
She laughed and trailed her fingers down his chest, enjoying his shiver at her touch. “I’m feeling selfish with you. I don’t want to share you. And I’m sorry we’ve had all these other responsibilities and the lack of privacy.”
“I like being able to help. Though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’ve been thinking about getting you naked again.”
At his words, her thighs went loose, and heat pooled low in her belly. “I want you in my bed.”
His eyes lit with mischief and an erotic intent. “Can you be quiet?”
“Once Granddaddy takes his hearing aids out, he wouldn’t hear a nuclear bomb.”
“Do we know he’s asleep?”
“One way to find out.”
Abbey slid off his lap, taking his hand and leading him inside. They heard the snoring from Granddaddy’s room before they’d made it two steps into the house. Even so, they crept upstairs. There was something deliciously forbidden about dragging him up to her childhood bedroom. She instinctively avoided the squeaky steps and floorboards on the way. Not that she’d have been able to hear them over the thrumming of her own heartbeat.
Kyle was the one who shut and locked the door behind them. “Gotta admit, it’s a little weird, the idea of being with you here.”
Understanding, she linked her arms around his neck. “At least I don’t still have my poster of Aragorn smoldering at us from the ceiling.” She hadn’t made that many more adjustments to the space since moving home. New bedding, an extra bookcase. But her trim little laptop sat on the same desk where she’d done homework for school, and the window seat where she and Kyle had wedged themselves in to talk of anything and everything still had the same plaid cushion.
He stroked his hands down her torso. “I know they’re on a cruise, but there’s a part of me that’s still paranoid your dad will come barging in with a shotgun.”
Abbey laughed. “There shall be no parental interruptus, and that’s not Dad’s style, anyway.”
Kyle grimaced. “Maybe let’s stop talking about your parents.”
“Maybe let’s stop talking at all.” She tipped her face up to his and proved she could stay quiet after all.
Chapter 12
Strategically placed spotlights illuminated the stone walls and beams of the old mill that now housed the Artisan Guild. Though “old” no longer seemed to apply as a descriptor. The last time Kyle had been out here had been on a hike when they were in high school. There’d been vines and overgrowth and an ineffable abandoned air that had given rise to ghost stories to explain why the place had been abandoned nearly a century before. That had certainly been cooler than the truth—that the rerouting of the river that powered the mill had put it out of business, toppling the empire of Joan’s lumber baron ancestor.
The place certainly wasn’t abandoned now. Dozens of cars filled the parking lot, and people streamed toward the front doors, many with assorted instruments in hand.
Kyle gawked for a moment until a car behind him gave a little honk to get moving again.
“Wow. I don’t know what I expected, but this wasn’t it.”
Abbey grinned. “Impressive, isn’t it? Maggie and Porter do good work. She had the idea to turn the property into the Artisan Guild headquarters. Porter made it a reality.”
The complex was huge, with an addition jutting off to one side that looked every bit a part of the original nineteenth-century structure.
“What do they even do out here, other than Jam Night?”
“There’s a maker’s space, with shared tools and equipment, so different kinds of artisans can ply their crafts, and
also plenty of classrooms so they can teach. Maggie wanted to create something that would keep those skills from dying out and be a draw for tourism to the area. Which it has been. And, of course, there’s retail space so those same artisans can sell their wares.”
“That Maggie Reynolds was always a smart cookie,” Granddaddy declared.
“Yes, she is.” Kyle pulled up to the wide double doors and threw the Land Cruiser into park.
Before he could do more than tug open the rear passenger door, Granddaddy was sliding out, eager to get inside. Thank God he was down to a single crutch.
Abbey hurried around, sliding an arm coquettishly through his in a gesture as much of affection as stability. “Hold up, now. You’re not gonna go running in there without your date, are you?”
Granddaddy beamed. “Prettiest girl at the party.”
Taking in her fall of straight blonde hair and the flush of pleasure in her cheeks, Kyle had to agree. “I’ll go park and come find you.”
“Look for your sisters. They’ll have camped out near the action.”
As Kyle drove on down the hill, searching for a space in the wider lot below, his phone began to ring. One glance at the readout on his dashboard had him grimacing and ignoring the call. He wasn’t talking to anybody from the label tonight. But he did check the voicemail as he strode back toward the entrance to the mill.
“Kyle, this is Rayna Dunham again. I know you’re enjoying some well-earned downtime, but we really want to get you to the negotiating table. We heard about your split with Davis. Don’t let that deter you. We still absolutely want to talk. We also wanted to let you know that there’s an opportunity for you to sing at the Ryman in two weeks. Thomas Rhett had to cancel, and they want you. I know I don’t have to tell you what a big feather that would be in your cap. Call me back!”
The Ryman Auditorium. The Mother Church of Country Music. Original home of the Grand Old Opry. The stage where country greats from Johnny Cash to Patsy Cline had sung. It was a hell of an opportunity.
But he didn’t call back. That was the cheese they’d use to lure him in before springing the trap. He wasn’t ready for that conversation. Tonight was for music and friends and family. He wanted to be present in more than just body, not with his head all tied up, worrying about the future.
Joining the throngs, he filed inside. Just beyond a vestibule lined with black and white photos of the original mill, the space opened into a massive, high-ceilinged room. The perimeter was lined with what looked like workstations, housing all manner of tools and equipment. The maker’s space that Abbey had mentioned. At the far end, chairs were clustered in a horseshoe, with musicians settling in, unpacking their instruments. The audience was a seething, cheerful mass of lawn chairs, blankets, and coolers, broken up here and there by the lines of people snaking out from the food and beverage vendors set up along one wall. He spotted signs for high school clubs and church groups raising money for one cause or another, selling popcorn or hotdogs or whatever could be brought in and easily kept warm or cold for the masses. It was a helluva setup.
His family had carved out a big section right up by the musicians. Granddaddy had a chair already and was bouncing Kennedy and Xander’s daughter, Caroline, on his good knee, looking happy as a clam. The sight gave Kyle pause. Did Granddaddy want great-grandchildren? He’d been smitten with Abbey basically always, so it stood to reason he’d be delighted if she had children. Did she want kids? He didn’t know. She’d always said she did when they were younger, but he knew plenty of folks who’d changed their minds as adults. It was another of those million and one details they hadn’t yet had time to discuss about the future they were still finding the shape of. As she ran a gentle finger over the white-blonde down on Faith’s head where it peeked out of the baby sling Maggie wore, Kyle found himself hoping she hadn’t changed her mind.
“—got a call from Wyatt Sullivan the other day,” Athena said. “You remember him from the reunion last fall? He got adopted when he was twelve.”
Maggie patted a soft hand against Faith’s back. “Sure. He mostly crossed over with me and Pru. That was before you came to us.”
“I thought it was something like that. Anyway, he was asking for suggestions on his YouTube channel. Apparently he’s got an eye to pitch for an actual show.”
Kennedy perked with interest. “Yeah? What kind of concept?”
“Home improvement. Flips and stuff. His channel’s called DIWyatt.”
“Clever,” Abbey murmured. “Is he any good?”
“As a contractor, definitely. I didn’t have time to watch much, but it looks like he does really good work. And he’s definitely got the looks for a TV home improvement guy.”
Kyle joined them, sliding an arm around Abbey’s waist and loving that she leaned into him. “And exactly what does a TV home improvement guy look like?”
Abbey’s lips quirked in amusement. “She means he’s hot. Which, yeah. He is. I met him at the reunion.”
“Uh huh. Shall we go get everybody drinks?”
She laughed and patted his chest. “Smooth. But sure. What’s everybody want?”
With multiple orders for cider, he and Abbey got in line for the booth from Forbidden Fruit Cidery. Kyle wondered if the owners would be manning it. He hoped they’d keep their mouths shut if they were. Ryder and his husband Lewis both brightened at the sight of him, circling around their little table to pull him into a back-slapping hug.
“Damn, it’s good to see you home,” Ryder declared.
“It’s good to be home.” Kyle was surprised to realize he meant it beyond the joy of being with Abbey. He’d enjoyed being back in Eden’s Ridge. “And it’s great to see you two looking so happy.”
Lewis grinned. “If you love your work, you’ll never work a day in your life. Am I right?” He clearly expected Kyle’s agreement.
“So they say.”
Ryder swung an arm around Lewis’s shoulders. “Bonus points if you get to do that work with the love of your life.”
Abbey gave a dreamy sigh. “You two are freaking adorable.”
The two men were great together, and Kyle was delighted they’d managed to bring their dream of opening a cidery to full fruition, as it were.
“Talk about adorable. What about the two of you, Miss I-Kept-The-Biggest-Secret-The-Ridge-Has-Seen-Since-Us? Let’s see the ring,” Lewis demanded.
Abbey dutifully held out her hand. For a moment, Kyle wondered whether he should buy another. One more befitting what he could afford with his current success. But Lewis just pressed a hand to his heart. “It’s so perfectly you.”
She cut a glance in Kyle’s direction, her lips curving into a warm smile. “Yes, it is. He did good.”
“He’s a good one,” Ryder agreed.
Uncomfortable with the praise, Kyle decided they needed to get a move on. “Can we get a round of ciders for the group?”
“Sure thing. How many?”
He gave the order, and Ryder began to put them into a box to carry. Kyle pulled out his wallet to pay.
“Oh, hell no. Your money is no good here. By rights, these are part yours,” Lewis insisted.
Kyle began making a slashing motion across his throat, but neither of them seemed to see.
“Why’s that?” Abbey asked.
“Because he’s our partner in the cidery,” Ryder explained. “His investment is how we were able to buy the stake in the orchard to get started.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she turned to stare at him.
The guys seemed to clue in that this was news to her.
“Um… was that still a secret?” Lewis asked.
Kyle forced a smile. “It’s fine. But we’ll take those ciders now. Got thirsty family.” He hefted the box and turned without looking at Abbey.
She caught up to him in three strides. “You helped them buy part of the orchard so they could start Forbidden Fruit?”
“It was an investment opportunity.”
Her hand on his
arm finally made him stop. “Kyle. Look at me.”
Bracing himself, he turned to meet her gaze. He didn’t know what he wanted to see. Not the gratitude making those big doe eyes glimmer.
“That deal saved my family’s business.”
He jerked a shoulder. “It was a good investment all around.”
“Don’t downplay this. You saved our business. Our home. And I wasn’t even speaking to you at the time. I don’t even know how…” She swallowed. “And you kept it quiet all this time?”
He wished it were still a secret. But it wasn’t, and he had to deal with that. “I know you and your family never blamed me for my parents’ actions and that you don’t think it’s my job to make up for it, but I needed to do something to help, to pay restitution. Because they never will.” So, he’d sunk almost all his profits from that first album that went gold into helping Ryder and Lewis start Forbidden Fruit and keeping the orchard afloat the only way he knew how.
Her throat worked, and she looked perilously close to tears. “Thank you.”
That tremulous tone made him itch to run. He didn’t deserve thanks for this. It was the bare minimum of what her family deserved. There shouldn’t be prizes for that.
Needing some space from her gratitude, he hurried back to his family, dropping off the drinks and grabbing his guitar to go join the other musicians.
He’d lose himself in the music until he felt in control again. Until he felt worthy again.
Abbey watched Kyle carry his guitar over to the cluster of musicians. He’d come here to play tonight, but she knew, in this moment, he was running away from her. From her gratitude.
Her own head was reeling. If not for his investment in the cidery, they’d likely have lost their orchards entirely, and maybe the house as well. Her parents had never told her the bald numbers, but they’d been struggling for years because of what Kyle’s parents had done, everything they’d taken. It would have happened sooner, probably, if Kyle himself hadn’t found out and blown the whistle on the embezzlement. At thirteen, he’d chosen her family over his own, and his testimony had been the lynchpin in the case that sent his parents to prison. Despite that, he’d always had the notion that he was responsible for paying for their mistakes.