Summer With The Rock Star (Blue Bay Beach Reads Book 2)

by Ellie Hall

  She was no damsel. She was stronger than almost anyone knew. “There will be no rocking. You, Carter, will not be rocking me.”

  “Pity.”

  “I just helped you out and I need to do this final project before I graduate with my degree. Will you please help me out?”

  He sighed. “I suppose so. But let’s keep things quiet. I don’t want to draw attention and see this nice little town swarmed.”

  “Right. Because you broke out of the rehab and found your way here for the second time.” She tilted her head from side to side.

  He smiled a crooked smile. “I found my way to you.”

  Despite the humid Florida afternoon, his comment froze her to the spot. But ice didn’t run through her veins. Instead, it was like the lightning had melted, leaving a lava-like feeling that flowed under her skin.

  She managed to show Carter inside and planted him in the sitting room with a bottle of water. “I’ll be right back.”

  She hurried to check on her aunt who she found fast asleep. Claudia sighed. Aunt Margot was sleeping more and more often each day. Her aunt had worked with plenty of musicians, and Claudia was tempted to ask how to handle them, but she didn’t want to burden her with her problems.

  As Claudia adjusted the overhead fan and made sure her aunt was comfortable, the faint strains of piano music filtered from below.

  Chapter 6

  Carter

  Carter spotted the piano across the room like a magpie drawn to something shiny. The moment he laid his hands on the keys, he felt a sense of returning home. It was perfectly tuned and his fingers found the old familiar notes of classic songs by Bach and his favorite Clair de Lune, by Debussy.

  A few minutes later he sensed Claudia standing in the doorway and let the piano fall silent.

  “You don’t have to stop. That was beautiful.” She seemed slightly more relaxed than when they’d arrived.

  “Care to join me?” he slid over on the bench and gestured she sit down.

  Claudia kept her distance. “I’m supposed to interview you. Get to know you.”

  “No better way than through our common language of music.”

  She shook her head and gazed ahead like a scared animal caught in the headlights of a car.

  “In that case, I could go for another one of those Pina Colados.” He was hungry after the day’s escapades.

  “What if people recognize you?” she asked.

  “Shall we go in costume? Are you into that?” he asked with a flirtatious smile. “It could be part of our date.”

  A faint rose dusted her cheeks and she shifted uncomfortably.

  “Not interested?”

  “No, Carter.” She gazed at her hands. “No, I’m not dating just waiting.”

  “Waiting?” he asked as naughty thoughts of her lips on his rushed through his mind.

  “Waiting for the one,” she said softly.

  “Oh, the elusive one. Well, I suppose you just never know when he’ll turn up. In the meantime, you and I can have a little fun, huh?” He extended his arm for her to take a seat.

  She slid into a nearby chair and set her notebook on her lap. “Okay, back to the questions. What does it feel like to perform live?”

  “Nothing like it.” He went on to describe the thrill and rush of the stage. “But it’s all play. All for the audience, the ratings, the sales...” He felt an emptiness inside, a sudden ache in his chest. “...At least that’s true for Wilde. I don’t know what it’s like for Carter to perform. I don’t know who I am anymore.” He needed to figure that out. To find his muse. He glanced at Claudia jotting down her notes and a sudden longing sparked inside.

  She asked a few more questions, but the answers sent him down roads of self-inquiry. Maybe it was because there were no strings attached. She wasn’t interested in him, his fame, or any of the trappings of his life. She was just a student with an assignment. He’d never been honest with someone before, or with himself, which could only mean one thing. Maybe she was something more.

  Claudia bit her lip and tapped the pen against her jaw. Her strong jaw. Her silky hair. Her soft skin. He wasn’t above his desire to rock her world, but it was true, she wasn’t that kind of woman, but what kind of woman was she? A gorgeous, intelligent, amazing woman.

  His pulse drummed in his chest and for the first time in memory, his fingers trembled as though he were nervous being around her. There was only one thing he knew that could steady him.

  “Actually, I think the best way to get to know me is right here.” Again, he gestured she join him on the piano bench. “Let’s play a song together.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Pardon?” he said as though he hadn’t heard her correctly. “What was it that you said? Oh yes, you said, ‘I started playing music when I was three. On a metal bowl in the kitchen. I graduated to the piano in third grade when the neighbor took me in. Then in fifth grade, I started on stringed instruments. Mastered every. Single. One,’” he quoted.

  “Good memory.”

  “It helps to keep sharp for memorizing lyrics, music, that kind of thing.” He set his fingers on the keys and started playing a jaunty show tune.

  She sat still as though somewhat stunned.

  He wasn’t used to not getting a response so he added some gusto, really threw himself into it, jostling around on the bench, and knocking his shoulder into hers then going back to the bench.

  The corner of her lip lifted when he started singing nonsensical rhymes about a girl named Claudia who wouldn’t let him play with the radio.

  “That doesn’t rhyme.”

  “Do you know a better song because if so, it’s all yours.” He swept his hand across the keys.

  “We have to be quiet. I don’t want to wake up my aunt. She’s sleeping.”

  “You mean she’s already sleeping through this? I can’t help that it’s loud. It’s a piano.”

  “When I was younger and still lived with her, she never complained about when I’d play, but things have changed.”

  “Maybe she didn’t mind because you’re so talented. Come on, show me what you’ve got. I bet your aunt would love to hear.”

  “You don’t know that I’m talented,” she said pointedly.

  “No. You’re right. That’s why you have to show me.”

  She glanced toward the stairs.

  Carter didn’t say more just then. When Claudia was signing him out of the rehab and he’d told the fib about an ill grandmother, she’d started to correct the aide by saying something about her aunt. “Is your aunt sick?” he asked gently.

  A shadow crossed her eyes. “Not exactly. She used to say that age is just a number, but she’s getting older.”

  “I bet she’d like to hear something beautiful.” He nudged her.

  “Yeah, she might.” Claudia moved to the bench and planted her fingers on the keys. She sat for a moment, gazing at a painting of an angel on the wall as though she was scanning her memory for the songs her aunt loved, ones she had memorized, or as though she flipped through the sheet music that was filed away in her head.

  At last, the first notes of Pachelbel’s Canon in D resounded from the strings of the instrument.

  Carter leaned back, in awe of the clarity of her playing and the impeccable skill, but just when he expected the song to conclude, she continued playing a song he’d never heard before. It must have been original, but it was just as haunting and mesmerizing as pieces by the greatest composers in history.

  While they’d been sitting there, the sun had set, leaving the room murky and only lit by the landscape lighting shining through the large windows.

  When Claudia was done, he said, “No way could I follow that or join in. You’re amazing.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that.” She got up as though she was going to rush away, but Carter gripped her arm.

  “No, Claudia. That was a gift. That was real music, raw, from somewhere deep inside of you. Thank you for playing for m
e.”

  She shook her head. “No, it was too much.”

  “Too intense?” He saw a reflection of part of himself in her then: it was in her eyes. Fear. Uncertainty. Old wounds.

  He wasn’t sure it was the right thing, but it was the real thing. He drew her into a hug. Not the kind of hug that would surely lead to more—the kind Wilde would give. Instead, it was a Carter hug. One that he meant to offer her comfort, safety. Whatever just went on inside her mind, he’d hold a space for her to get it out or whatever she needed to do.

  She sniffled and pulled back, but he didn’t want to let her go.

  “I’m sorry. Sorry about all that.” She wiped her eyes.

  “I’m not.” He’d needed a jolt of reality—of what had drawn him to music to begin with. It had been a sort of therapy, a place for him to channel all his pain after the accident. Over the years he’d lost track of how it had soothed him.

  Instead of pressing her, he said, “Hey, how about the Pina Colado? I’m starved.”

  They walked under the light of the rising moon to the Coconut Cove Café, where they’d first met. By then, Claudia had collected herself and was back to being her regular, if not somewhat prickly, self. It wasn’t that she was uptight as he’d originally thought. Rather, she was guarded, but he’d seen a glimpse of what was underneath. He had a deep, overwhelming desire to help her let go of whatever bothered her so she could be truly and fully herself just like he wanted to.

  When they got to the restaurant, they took a table in the corner on the outside deck. A few tiki torches blazed and the faint lapping of the water on the pylons was audible over the oldies tunes playing from inside.

  “You sure about this?” she asked. “I’d hate for fans to interrupt our meal.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time, but I give you permission to throw me over the rail if they swarm and I’ll swim to safety.”

  Claudia almost smiled.

  He could get used to seeing that expression on her lips. For a second, he was entranced by their softness and a little glint of shine from the gloss she wore.

  “I’ll gladly throw you overboard,” she said with laughter in her voice.

  The comment hardly broke the spell, but he pulled himself loose and examined the menu.

  A woman with white hair approached the table. “I thought you said he didn’t call you back?” Her hand was on her hip as though affronted.

  “Betty, how’d you know this was him—the guy you dared me to ask on a date?”

  She arched her eyebrow and gave a knowing smile.

  “Just so we’re clear, she gave me a fake name and phone number,” Carter added.

  “If Billie gets to wear a fake ring, I figured I could give out fake info,” Claudia said defensively.

  “What matters is that you found each other after all.” Betty smiled.

  “Something like that,” Claudia muttered. She went on to place her order.

  Carter followed up.

  Betty said, “I want the full story next shift, you hear?” At that, she marched away like a very small, but mighty drill sergeant.

  For the next hour, Claudia and Carter chatted and it was nothing like an interview or an awkward first date. In fact, much like the music they’d both played earlier, the conversation flowed. They touched on her schooling, his career, but then when they veered toward family life, they both went quiet. Thankfully, the food arrived.

  When Betty brought the bill, she set it in front of him.

  Claudia went to grab it, but he was quick.

  She stared him down. “This is not a date.” She cast the same sharp look at Betty. “We split the bill.”

  The older woman held back a smile. “Tonight Billie makes her meals run to those less fortunate in our community—Mrs. Scaduto who was recently widowed, the single mother on Gull Street, and many others. I thought your dining companion might like to make a donation. There’s a card stapled to your bill explaining Coconut Cove Special Delivery. You can even round up to the nearest dollar if that’s all you can spare. Every little bit helps.” She tapped it on the table.

  “I’d be glad to.” Carter pulled out his wallet and dropped two hundred-dollar bills, which was significantly more than the bill total, including the tip.

  Betty’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it. No, seriously, don’t. I’d like to be anonymous for a few days if I can get away with it.”

  Afterward, Carter and Claudia strolled slowly down the dock as though not sure what to say or where to go.

  Instead, they meandered along the beach. The moon and stars sparkled off the water. As they continued to chat, Carter reflected that somewhere along the shore, he’d left Wilde behind.

  He felt slightly nervous, but he took a risk and reached for her hand, wrapping his calloused fingers around hers. Her skin was soft, but her fingers were strong as she returned his grip. Those were the fingers that played the most moving song he’d ever heard and yet she held onto something sorrowful. He wanted her to let it go but didn’t want to let her go when they reached the end of the beach and took the road back into town. The night was balmy and the frogs were croaking loudly.

  Ahead, he saw a sign for the Sandy Shore Inn. “I guess I should get a room.”

  “You’re not going home?”

  “You heard what I told Betty. I like it here.” He wanted to add I like you too. “Plus, home would require I get on an airplane and then you wouldn’t be able to finish your assignment.”

  She smiled like she was hoping to hear that.

  “Also, to be honest, I’m not sure where home is anymore. My career belongs to someone else, someone who is no longer the man I am.”

  “Did this all just happen today?” she asked.

  He felt a wildness that was unlike his stage persona, a freedom that was lifting him up, giving him wings as he cast off the shackles of the person he’d been and the lie he’d lived. “No, Claudia. It’s been a long time coming.” He stepped closer, edging her out of the pool of the lantern light shining over them. He bit his lip then met her eyes, bright in the dim light.

  He leaned in.

  She stepped back.

  Wilde wasn’t a patient guy and was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. But Carter was different and was ready to give up the instant gratification lifestyle. If she wasn’t ready to kiss him he could wait. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a few more hundred-dollar bills and passed them to Claudia.

  Her face folded with disgust. “I am not that kind of—”

  He cut her off before she said more. “I just want you to get me a room at the inn in your name. If anyone finds out I’m here it’ll be madness.”

  “Oh, right.” She shook her head as though she felt foolish for thinking he was suggesting something that a rock star with his reputation might about them and the hotel.

  He flashed a wild grin. “Unless you want to come with me.” Maybe there was a little bit of the bad boy still in him. Mostly, he wanted to know if she heard the silent song that he sensed playing between them all night.

  She stammered.

  “Part of you does, huh? That was all I wanted to know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m wondering if the feeling is mutual.”

  “What feeling?”

  “I promised to rock you later. I can wait for later. I can wait as long as I have to.” He winked.

  Her nostrils flared and she swept into the inn. Minutes later she emerged with a key and a stern expression. “If you so much as scratch a surface in there, stain the carpet, or—”

  “I will be on my best behavior, promise.” He bounced on his toes and nodded.

  “And why should I believe you. You completely wrecked the room at the rehab center on the show.”

  “I’d do it for you, Claudia.” An affection and attraction unlike any he’d ever felt grew stronger the longer he spent with the woman with dark hair and eyes and a smile he tried to
coax onto her lips at every opportunity.

  She exhaled, exasperated, and took off down the street.

  “See you in the morning,” he called.

  She looked back and it took everything in him not to take off after her.

  Chapter 7

  Claudia

  The whole thing had been one big, terrible mistake. Claudia shouldn’t have reached out to the famous musician. She shouldn’t have met with him and she certainly should not have signed her name—okay, the fake name, Alice—without reading the content of the paper.

  As she laid in bed that night, she replayed the craziness of the day. But an image of Carter when she’d entered the room at the rehab facility hung in her mind. Sitting there, he looked so sad, so broken. She wanted to hold him in her arms even though it was against her better judgment. Bringing him back to Blue Bay Beach and getting him a room at the Sandy Shore Inn was the least sensible thing she’d done in ages, but she couldn’t resist wanting to help him.

  There were moments during their time together when he was “on,” embodying the stage persona that he’d described. However, he hid pain under his lazy gaze. There were the “Wilde” moments when she caught him glancing at her and when he was sharing about his stage persona versus the real him that he was thoughtful and genuine.

  When they were standing on the sidewalk by the inn the lantern light highlighted his best features: his eyes, his strong jaw, and those lips that brought a longing to her own. Being around Carter and even thinking about him sent shivers through her that had nothing to do with the cold air conditioning.

  She got out of bed to adjust the thermostat and rubbed her arms as though trying to get rid of the thoughts of longing and possibility.

  Claudia was contained, self-possessed. She was in no position to date, despite Betty’s dare. Not until she found the one. At least that was true until she down at the piano beside Carter and felt the music pass from him and into her then move through her. She wasn’t sure what came over her then as she’d transitioned from playing Pachelbel’s Canon to improvising with her own piece—she’d never played one of her originals in front of anyone. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, there was a distinct possibility that Carter drew it out of her.