by Snow, Nicole
But I can still see her, the spots shining down overhead, making her shimmer.
Why?
Why am I staying when it feels like she’s plucking away inside me with every strum of the guitar strings, quivering me up with bittersweet pain?
No.
I’ve got to escape before she sees me and gets that look on her sweet face again.
I start turning away and get a serious déjà vu trip.
“Hey,” another soft voice says.
Last time it was Haley.
This time, it’s Felicity Randall, Ember’s cousin and the owner of The Nest, slim and pretty and tired-looking in her apron. She wipes a rag down the counter, watching me with a sympathetic smile.
“You look like a desperate man,” she murmurs, “who sees the thing he wants most, but it’s just out of his reach.”
I swallow, my throat tight. “Honestly, that ain’t too far off base, Fliss.”
“Makes me wonder why you’re hiding over here. Almost like you don’t want to be seen.” Her smile turns wry. I only half hear her voice, still so lost in the mournfully gentle music; still so lost in Peace. “But I won’t ask. You look dog-tired, Blake. How about a coffee for the drive home? On the house.”
I finally tear my eyes from Peace, glancing at Felicity. “I look so rough you’re handing out freebies?”
“You look that heartbroken,” she answers with a laugh, something dark and haunted flickering in her eyes. “And I’m the coffee girl, so that’s all I’ve got for comfort.”
I try a smile, but I can’t seem to get my mouth to move quite right. “Thanks, lady. I’d like that a lot.”
She only lingers on me for a minute with that same sad smile, then slips away to snag a cup. A minute later, I’ve got a steaming cup of her best dark brew with a dab of sugar, just the way I like it.
It’s bracing. Helps to clear my head, reminding me I need to make a choice.
And that choice is to leave and not thrust myself up in Peace’s life when I’m just no good for her.
I’m no good for anyone.
Heading for the door, still trying not to be obtrusive about it, trying not to draw her eye, I push it open. Right into a group of kids who are just heading in as I’m leaving.
There’s a brief, awkward tussle for the door, before I step out of the way to let them pass.
I’m almost worried Andrea’s not with them when I recognize her friends, but she had a lot of homework tonight.
And I’m glad Andrea’s not with them when I see that little bastard pyro, Clark Patten.
The boy catches my eye just as I catch his, lifting his pierced upper lip in a sneer.
Then he promptly flips me off with both middle fingers, before laughing and shoving away with his friends.
Little shit.
I don’t like that kid.
No, I’m not so fucked up I’m gonna start a fight with a seventeen-year-old, when I know that’s just how kids are and he’s probably still mad at me for breaking things up at the carnival. I shoot him a dead-eyed glare instead. He smiles, then whips his head away, catching up with his friends.
That boy ain’t right.
I’ve got to figure out how to keep Andrea the hell away from him.
Almost as much as I’ve gotta sort this shit with Broccoli Girl some night when I won’t stomp all over her angel wings.
9
Play It Again (Peace)
I hadn’t expected to draw such a crowd.
Good thing I don’t get stage fright.
It’s been a long time since I had a chance to sing in front of anyone else, or with anyone else at my side.
But it’s been nice to lose myself—in the vibrations of guitar strings against my fingers, in the work it takes to find point and counterpoint and harmony with someone else. And in making a new friend, September, the cool lady who loves music and animals as much as I do. Haley introduced us.
I’ve needed the distraction.
I’ve needed to keep Blake off my mind.
With him, I just can’t anymore.
Can’t make him see what he doesn’t want to see. Can’t make him let go of his pain and try to find a new path forward when he doesn’t want to.
All I can do is offer him my hand along the way.
And he made it pretty clear tonight he doesn’t want it.
I’m not the type to cry over men.
Instead I sing, pouring all my feelings into the notes.
It’s an old song Dad taught me, one I never knew the name for.
It’s about birds in the sky and how they only come down when they’re tired—so as long as you’ve got the heart, just fly, because the ground’s only for people who’ve given up.
Just fly, I sing, while Ember follows me with her violin like she’s known this song her whole life. It’s amazing how fast she picks it up off a few strummed bars, trying them out in soft, keening notes of her own.
Just fly.
By the time the song ends, the whole café goes quiet.
Gentle, enthusiastic applause rises, breaking my trance. I lift my head, blinking.
Oh.
They’re clapping for us, aren’t they?
I smile sheepishly, glancing at Ember. “Well, I think we got everyone’s attention.”
“Oops,” she says with a dazzling smile, blue eyes bright, a few wisps of her blonde hair slipping out of its bun to stick to her face, a faint mist of sweat on her skin.
I’m just as damp; playing is weirdly hard work.
It also leaves you lit.
Just buzzing with all this energy, even if it’s secret and wordless.
Ember stands, lowering her violin and turning to pick up the case. Around us, the patrons of The Nest slowly start to slip back into their own hushed conversations.
“We should do that again,” she says. “You’re only in Heart’s Edge for the winter, right? I’d hate to miss out on the chance to play with you some more.”
“We’ll figure something out,” I answer, shouldering my guitar and slinging it to my back by its strap.
I don’t really have a reason to stay past winter, do I?
That thought shouldn’t make me as sad as it does.
Ember watches me as she puts her violin away with quiet reverence. “You know, I think you just missed Blake.”
“Wh-what?” I jerk my head up sharply, staring at her.
How could she tell?
How could she tell so easily that I’m already missing Blake Silverton?
“He was just here,” she says, and I suck in a breath. Oh. Ohhh.
That’s what she’d meant.
“He was just kind of standing there, watching,” she continues. “Then he got a coffee and left.”
I frown. Why is she telling me this?
We barely know each other. Even I can’t be that obvious.
I smile weakly. “I guess he was just...you know, late night or something.”
“He could’ve made coffee at home. Speaking of which,” she tosses her head with an impish smile. “C’mon. When you’re related to the owner, you get free lattes.”
I trail Ember over to the counter, trying to ignore the pinched feeling in my stomach.
Had Blake come in and left because of me?
Had he...oh God, had he heard me singing?
I keep my mouth shut as I slide onto a stool next to Ember. Her cousin—I recognize her as Felicity, the one who called into the radio show, talking about her nightmares—slides over with a grin.
“Y’all are welcome to do that any time,” she says, her eyes merry as she tucks her brown hair back. “With how hard it is to keep business running, you could draw a crowd every night.”
“I think Gray would lose his mind if I left him alone with the baby every night,” Ember says with a laughing wink, tucking her loose hair back behind her ear. “He loves Auggie to death, but he gets so helpless dad sometimes. The man freaks out like she’s made of crystal and he’ll break her if he snee
zes too hard.”
“Him? Mr. Tall, Dark, and Icy?” Felicity laughs. “I’ll believe it when I see the video.”
Suddenly, though, her attention’s on me—snapping to my eyes with an abruptness that makes me recoil.
She studies me. “You’re quiet. Need a little caffeine to lift you up? Anything you want, on the house.”
“Decaf,” I say with a sheepish laugh. “Or else I’ll never sleep tonight. Too wired. But maybe a decaf cappuccino?”
“Sure thing,” she says. “Not planning to stay up to listen for the radio show tonight, then?”
Oh.
Oh, damn it.
The way she’s watching me leaves no room for doubt.
She knows, doesn’t she?
Everyone knows.
That’s why Ember mentioned Blake being here.
That’s why Felicity’s watching me like a hawk with a knowing little smile.
Ugh. I guess in towns like this, everyone knows everyone’s business. And they like that business a lot when it means drama.
It hits me then.
Of course they know. Everyone and their dog heard me being flirty with Blake on the radio.
I wince, rubbing the back of my neck. “I mean, I could...”
But I’m not calling in again.
No way.
Not even to hear Blake’s voice go gentle the way I want so bad, when he’s open and sweet and soft instead of this closed off, hyper-defensive beast. Fighting to protect himself as much as he’s trying to protect Andrea from more sorrow.
“You know, I think I’ll try a full-caf cappuccino after all,” I venture, then quickly correct, “No. Half-caf. I have a nine a.m. tomorrow with rich folks who tip really well. I have to sleep at some point tonight.”
“Half-caf it is,” Felicity says, turning away with a sly look. “Blake got his coffee black with a pinch of sugar, you know. I have a feeling he’ll be up pretty late himself.”
Groan.
Oh my God.
I’m so obvious people are trying to play cupid.
But what good does it do if he doesn’t want to be my match?
* * *
I shouldn’t be awake.
Too bad.
It’s after eleven, and I’m curled up in my pajamas—or at least what I call pajamas, an old ripped tie-dye t-shirt that’s barely holding together by a thread and a pair of lace boyshort panties.
The heat in the cabin is so good I don’t need anything else to stay warm besides a cup of calming tea. It tells my heart rate to normalize after the caffeine hit that was definitely a bad idea.
Sure.
The caffeine.
That’s why I’m a jittery mess.
Not because I’m listening to classic rock tracks, waiting to see if Blake’s coming on the air tonight.
Rod Stewart’s fading off the air when I hear that faint click that says they’ve gone live.
My breath sticks in my lungs.
I’m such a mess, I swear.
And I wish so much the gentle thunder of Blake’s voice was for me as he starts up. “You’re tuned in to the heart of Heart’s Edge, and our lines are open. Do we have any callers tonight?”
“We’ve got one,” his sidekick, Mario, says. “She just says her name is E.”
“Okay, E,” Blake rumbles. It’s so soothing listening to his rough velvet voice, so compelling, this hypnotic lyricism that just makes me close my eyes and bask. “I’m listening.”
I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the voice that comes over the line.
“Hey,” Ember says, sounding just a little too innocent and cheerful. “I don’t think you’re going to get many callers tonight. Just a lot of listeners.”
Blake pauses and chuckles. “Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because we’re waiting,” Ember says brightly. “And really hoping you don’t screw this up.”
“Screw what up, exactly?” Blake’s voice sharpens.
“You know,” Ember tells him softly. “We all know. I don’t need advice, you know. I just called in to give you a little advice for a change.”
“I ain’t amused. Did Doc put you up to this? ’Cause if he did, I’ll—” Blake snarls, and I giggle, hiding it behind my palm as if he can hear me.
This is absolutely mortifying.
And too adorable.
I can just picture him sitting there glaring daggers at the mic.
“Nope, this is my baby. But you should laugh more,” Ember says.
“Laugh more? That the advice you’ve been keeping me waiting for?”
“No,” Ember replies, her voice softening, the laughter fading to leave a sort of sweet fondness. “It’s okay to be nice to people, Blake. It’s okay to trust strangers sometimes...they’re not all Galentron agents. Some people just want to take away your pain...and the rest of us just want to see you happy.”
My breath catches, my chest aching.
God. I press my hand to my breastbone, trying to control my pulse again.
Blake’s silent.
I almost think he’s left in a huff until he says, “Well, thanks for that, lady. Sometimes, it helps when the boot’s on the other foot and I’m the dude getting some wisdom.”
“I know,” Ember says. “But I’m going to go now and stop tying up the line. Good luck, Blake. You know what this is about.”
There’s another sandpapery sound from Blake, then the click as the line goes quiet, leaving just the sound of empty air with a hint of breathing.
“Well, uh...” Mario drawls out slowly. “Not sure what to make of that, boss.”
“Maybe,” Blake says slowly, thoughtfully. “If no one else is gonna call in, we wait for Broccoli? You out there, girl? I got some things to say.”
My heart stops.
I just stare at the radio like it’s Blake himself, not even breathing, my chest tight and my hands clenched into little fists until my nails bite into my palms.
Um, what is happening?
Right here?
On the open freaking air?
Not even pretending like he’s talking to anyone but me.
And my heart remembers to beat again in velvety shivers as he croons in a husky tone, “C’mon. Don’t keep a guy waiting. Everybody’s listening.”
I’m about to die.
And on my autopsy, cause of death will say this man.
I fumble for my phone. I can barely tap the numbers, but after an awkward minute, I manage.
“While we’re waiting, let’s talk Fuchsia Delaney, the best frenemy Heart’s Edge ever had. Still can’t figure out if she came to save this town or curse it.” Blake says. “Nobody’s seen that witchy woman since the night of the big museum fire. Nothing confirmed. But word on the street is, she’s been seen skulking around everywhere from behind Brody’s to way out in Spokane. What do I think? I ain’t gonna trust her as far as I can throw her. But she did help dispatch the air support that helped my crew put out the big fire that crazy Halloween night. Don’t know if this town’s just looking for a new legend after Nine turned out to be our harmless buddy Leo, or what, but if she meant to come back and do any of us harm—”
“New caller, Blake. Line one,” Mario says.
I clutch my phone in both hands, breathing in tiny rushes as the phone finally rings.
“Finally. You’ve got Blake.” He picks up, voice all wildfire in my ear.
“Hi,” I say, my voice tiny. “It’s me.”
Only for that screeching feedback loop to start again, howling out of the radio and my phone.
I yelp, jerking my phone away with a wince, and dive for the radio to turn it down.
Blake’s already laughing.
Low and rolling and thunderously sweet, Blake’s laughing just for me.
“You did it again,” he says.
I smile, curling up against the headboard and hugging my knees against my chest.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’m glad you were listening and picked u
p that phone.”
I’m vibrating inside, electric all over. I bite my lip. “Yeah? You...you said you wanted to say something?”
“I do,” he murmurs.
God, even when he’s murmuring it’s like the roar of a mighty river.
I bite my lips, just knowing there must be a couple hundred people or more tuned in for this. But it feels like it’s only us condensed down in our own little world.
Like he’s here for me and nobody else.
I close my eyes to soak him in and let his voice roll over me.
“I’m listening,” I whisper.
It’s still several long seconds before he speaks again. Before he takes a slow, audible breath, shaky enough to tell me he’s nervous.
Oh, God.
This tall, strong, powerful man is nervous...
...because of me.
And I realize why when he says, in no uncertain terms, “Listen, Peace, I’m sorry. And now I’m gonna be real straight...”
I suck in a breath. I don’t know what to say—not at all.
And he’s not done.
“You scare me, woman,” he says. It’s raw, quiet, sweet. “You make me freak because I’ve been hurtin’ for so long I’ve forgot what it’s like not to be in pain, and I got so used to it being that way I told myself it couldn’t be different. But you...you just keep showing me that maybe it can. Maybe I’m wrong. And that scares me because it means accepting I’ve been the only idiot hurting myself all this time, and now I’ve got to make a choice: let go, or keep on sufferin’.”
“Blake...” I whisper, but his voice keeps coming.
“Some guys, when they get freaked, they turn tail and run. But some men, when they get scared...” He sighs heavily. “They lash out first. And I ain’t proud of being one of those dudes. Ain’t proud of giving you cruel words while you tried to help with my pain, and I just held on like a stubborn ass and didn’t want to let it go. Wasn’t right. I’m sure as heck not gonna do it again. That’s my little spiel about how it is with hurting for the good folks of Heart’s Edge...and for you. And just for you, Peace, I want you to know again, I’m sorry.”
If I could breathe, I might be crying.
I hadn’t realized I needed this so much.
Blake, torn open and bared, heart in hand.