Back To You (In Tune Book 1)

by Jessica Ruddick

  Deep down, I must have, but I was eighteen and stupid, unable to see past the surface. What she’d done was wrong, but her intentions had been good, and that seemed like it should count for something.

  I didn’t know if it did, though, and I wanted to figure that out before I saw her again. But while I told myself I wasn’t walking in the direction of Turning Leaf Lane, my feet had other plans.

  Who am I kidding? My heart would always take me to Leah. It only took minutes for me to wind up standing in front of the Hannigans’ place, next to a beat-up car I assumed was Leah’s.

  It was chilly, and for a moment, the brisk morning fall air knocked some sense into me. It was the second time I’d showed up at Leah’s work or home on foot. But before I could further contemplate the lunacy of it all, Leah appeared at the bottom of the hill that sloped into the backyard. She was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. Her hair was wet, like she’d just gotten out of the shower. Jesus. Images of her wet, naked body flooded my mind. I could think of no better way to start my day than by lathering her up.

  She spotted me immediately, her steps slowing as she climbed the stairs built into the hill. She stopped several yards away from me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you.” Simple but true.

  “Why?” Looking down, she fiddled with her keys. “I figured you’d never want to see me again after last night. Hell, after everything.”

  “I never stopped wanting to see you.”

  She raised her head, her eyes locking on to mine. “Really?” Her question came out as a hoarse whisper.

  “Yeah. I’ve never stopped missing you.” So many truths I’d never expected to share. Now that I was here, though, I didn’t see a reason to pretend. She was the girl I’d always wanted. She might have taken the choice of our future away from me in the past, but she wouldn’t do it again.

  “I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

  I cocked a half smile. “I’m still pissed. But I want you in my life. I never stopped.” Like everything in my life besides music, I didn’t have a plan—act first, think later. But I’d dropped so many other truth bombs, I might as well continue. “I want to spend time with you. I miss you. It doesn’t feel right to be in Cedar Creek and not see you.” Not touch you. My fingertips were itching to glide over her skin.

  “What are you suggesting?” Her tone was cautious, and I couldn’t blame her, not after I'd left her out on the porch last night.

  “Come over to Aunt Rose’s and have dinner with us. We can start there. It’ll be like old times.” Not exactly. In high school, we’d be counting down the minutes until Aunt Rose would leave the house so we could slip into my bedroom and occupy ourselves with something that rhymed with “election.” Probably best I don’t think about that now.

  “I would, but after I clean the Fullers’ house, I have the evening shift at the diner.” She sounded disappointed. I took that as a good sign.

  “Are you closing?”

  She shook her head. “No. I should get off after the dinner rush. Maybe around eight.”

  “Come over then.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly, as if wrapping her head around the idea. Then she smiled, and my whole world brightened. “I will.”

  Shoving my hands into my pockets, I rocked back on my heels. “Great.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  “Okay.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fantastic.” Shaking my head, I grinned at her. “What the hell is happening here?”

  She arched a brow. “Well, I’m trying to get to my car. You’re kinda in the way.”

  “Oh, shit.” Grinning, I stepped aside. It felt good to be goofy with her again. Before we’d been together, we’d been friends. It seemed like we were on solid footing to get back there, though I was never satisfied with friendship with her. I always wanted more.

  She clicked her key fob to unlock the car, and I opened the driver’s-side door for her. As she passed to climb in, I caught a whiff of her damp hair. Coconut. I closed the door and watched her drive off, feeling better than I had in a long time.

  Leah

  I spent the first half of my time cleaning at the Fullers’ place in a daze. What just happened? If I hadn’t hallucinated, which wouldn’t have surprised me after the few days I’d had, then Gabe had asked me on a date.

  No, definitely not a date because Aunt Rose would be there. I was getting way ahead of myself. It was more like a hangout. Just me, Gabe, and Gabe’s septuagenarian aunt. It didn’t get more romantic than that.

  I let out a giddy laugh as I doused the front window with Windex. I certainly wasn’t complaining. If I was reading things correctly, it seemed like Gabe wanted to let bygones be bygones and resume our friendship. That was more than I’d ever thought would happen. I’d take it. Beggars can’t be choosers.

  I didn’t consider myself a beggar, not exactly. Sure, I didn’t have many friends, but I was busy with two jobs, classes, and being a pseudo-parent for Lacey. Granted, after the first year, Lacey hadn’t needed much from me. The two of us might have gotten the shaft when it came to parents, but we were blessed with resiliency. I had no idea what part of the gene pool that had come from.

  It wasn’t until my shift at the diner was coming to an end that the nerves set in. I wasn’t the same girl Gabe remembered. For that matter, he wasn’t the same person, either. He’d left as Gabe Gagliano and turned into Gabe Gable.

  I didn’t know what the hell was up with that stage name, anyway. Back when we’d been planning and scheming, he’d never said anything about taking a new name. In fact, I’d been the one daydreaming about a new name, Leah Gagliano. I sighed. The days of doodling my would-be initials while my government teacher droned on in his nasally voice seemed like so long ago.

  Now, the only thing I doodled was the diner customers’ orders.

  “Leah, table three wants their check.”

  Clutching my chest, I jumped at the sound of Tamara’s voice behind me. “Shit, you scared me.”

  She grinned. “Didn’t mean to. They’ve been trying to get your attention for the last few minutes.”

  I winced. Normally, I was an attentive waitress. The Cedar Creek Diner might not have been a five-star restaurant, but I still prided myself on providing good service, and it wasn’t the first misstep I’d made that evening.

  I rushed to their table and handed over the check with an apology for the wait. The man gave me a credit card, and as I was running it through the register, I couldn’t help but notice my hands. I never paid much attention to them, but the skin was chapped. My nails were short and brittle, and I had calluses on my fingertips. When I was a teenager, I used to paint my nails about twice a week with cheap ninety-nine-cent polish from Walmart, so it would chip after only a few days. I didn’t mind, though, because I liked changing out the color frequently.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d painted my nails. There was no point. Between working at the diner and cleaning houses, the polish wouldn’t have lasted a day.

  After I gave the customers their credit card and receipt, I went into the restroom and peered in the mirror. I’d never been vain, but I used to take more care with my appearance. These days, I didn’t give a shit what I looked like as long as I was clean. Now, though, I really looked at myself, trying to determine what other people saw. I pulled the elastic from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. It was too long and full of split ends. Dark circles colored the skin under my eyes. Despite the fact that I’d assured Tyler I would be okay, I hadn’t slept well the night before. Of course, the circles weren’t just a result of one night of poor sleep.

  I looked haggard.

  Tamara walked in. “Leah, are you okay?”

  I hurriedly raked my fingers through my hair and gathered it at the nape of my neck again. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? Because you’ve seemed off all evening.”

  I turned and brace
d my hands behind me on the edge of the sink. “I’m going to see Gabe after work.”

  Tamara’s eyebrows arched, and her lips spread into a huge smile. “Oh, really?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “No, it’s not like that,” I protested. “We’re just going to be friends.” I paused. “I think.”

  “You think?”

  “I mean, I know.” It was stupid to consider anything different. His life was all screaming fans, award shows, and women who took the time to get manicures and haircuts. I didn’t fit in.

  But I didn’t have to fit in with his Hollywood life to be his friend. Maybe if we smoothed over the leftover animosity and got closure for our past, then Gabe wouldn’t stay away from Cedar Creek. I could still have him in my life. Albeit intermittently, but I’d take it.

  “Okay,” Tamara said slowly.

  I turned back to face the mirror to make sure my hair was smooth. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything. Because saying something makes it seem like it’s a big deal, but it’s not.”

  “Okay,” Tamara said again.

  “He just wants to clear the air, bury the hatchet, help the water flow under the bridge.”

  “That’s a lot of metaphors.”

  “Gabe likes metaphors,” I muttered.

  “So are you going to share them with him?”

  “Of course not. These are too cliché.”

  In the mirror, I caught sight of Tamara shaking her head behind me. “You lost me.”

  I turned to face her again. “It’s just that I don’t know what to expect.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe the best expectations are no expectations. Then you’ll be ready for anything.”

  I snorted. “I’m not exactly a go-with-the-flow kind of girl.”

  “Sure you are.” She put her hands on my shoulders and held my gaze. “Don’t sell yourself short, Leah. I don’t know everything that went down between you two, but you are good enough. He is not better than you.”

  “I never said he was.”

  She dropped her hands and pursed her lips. “You didn’t have to. I know you.”

  Looking down at my pathetic fingernails, I fidgeted. “You’ve seen the women he dates.”

  “So what? They’re not better than you, either.”

  “They’re definitely more”—I searched for the right word—“polished.”

  Tamara shrugged. “They’re all airbrushed and nipped and tucked and plumped these days. Who knows what the hell they are? Besides, if it’s just a friend thing, then none of this should matter.” When I clamped my mouth shut, Tamara flashed a knowing smile. “That’s what I thought.”

  I closed out my last few tables and asked Eddie to box up three slices of pie. Though I still had ten minutes left on my shift, Tamara waved me out the door. I was grateful, because that gave me a few extra minutes to shower. In the car, I lifted a strand of hair to my nose and inhaled. I grimaced. It smelled like the fried food we served at the diner. At least we hadn’t had a fish-fry night. Oh, well. I wouldn’t have time to wash my hair. It didn’t matter because it was unlikely that anyone would be close enough to smell it, but I would know.

  I parked my car on the street in front of the Hannigans’ house and walked down the steps toward my apartment, clutching my pepper spray in my hand. I was halfway down when I realized I was holding my breath. Cedar Creek was generally a safe town, and I’d never felt unsafe walking to my apartment before. Damn my father.

  When I got to the next to the last step, a bright light flashed on, startling me so badly I yelped and almost fell down the last step. My heart pounding, I looked around. Finally, I realized that motion-sensor lights had been installed on the back of the house, near my apartment door.

  “Sorry!” Mr. Hannigan called from the top of the steps. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I waved up at him. “No worries!”

  “I had those lights installed this afternoon. I should have done it years ago. Maybe if I had—”

  “The break-in wasn’t your fault,” I assured him. “It was… dumb luck.” I was too embarrassed to tell him that I thought the thief was my own father. Tyler hadn’t said anything about it either. It would have been unprofessional for him to cast suspicion without proof.

  “Either way, it was too dark back here. A safety hazard. Officer English said you had some money stolen. So don’t you worry about paying this month’s rent.”

  “Mr. Hannigan, I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can,” he said firmly. “If the break-in was dumb luck, then consider this good luck. I’d say Lady Luck owes you one.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I really appreciate your kindness, but—”

  “No buts.” With a stern expression, he pointed his finger at me. “Your money is no good here this month.”

  I smiled, finally giving in to the older man. “Thank you, Mr. Hannigan.” As much as I’d proclaimed that I could take care of myself, it was nice to remember that I had people in my corner.

  “You’re welcome. Have a nice night, young lady.”

  “You too,” I called back. Then I went into my apartment to get ready for my not-date.

  Chapter 10

  Gabe

  Leah showed up shortly before nine. It wasn’t until I saw her car stop in front of the house that I realized I wasn’t sure she’d show. Leah had always been reliable to a fault, but that was Past Leah. I was looking forward to getting to know Present Leah.

  When I opened the front door for her, she smiled nervously and held up a bag. “I brought pie.” It was a peace offering if I ever saw one.

  Before I could say anything, Aunt Rose cried, “Pie? Did that girl say she has pie?”

  Leah chuckled. “It sounds like Aunt Rose is feeling better.”

  “She finally caved and took the Vicodin the doctor prescribed,” I said. “I think it’s made her loopy.”

  “I might be loopy, but I’m not deaf,” Aunt Rose called. “Bring on the pie!”

  I sighed and stepped back so Leah could enter. “Come on in.” As she brushed past me, I inhaled, hoping to catch the scent of her hair again, but all I smelled was the pie.

  Aunt Rose had her nose in the air, sniffing like she was a bloodhound. “Is it cherry? Or apple? Please tell me it’s apple.”

  Leah laughed again, and the sound was music to my ears. “It is indeed apple.”

  “Praise Sharon and all that is good in this world.”

  I rolled my eyes. That was a little extreme, even for the famous Cedar Creek Diner pies. Going by Aunt Rose’s comments, I assumed that Sharon herself still made all the pies from scratch. Back when she was younger and not as cynical, she used to enter baking contests and actually won a few. The faded blue ribbons still hung behind the counter.

  “Then by all means, let’s dig in.” Leah set the bag on Aunt Rose’s side table and pulled out the Styrofoam cartons and three plastic forks.

  Aunt Rose was practically salivating. I frowned. The oatmeal had been okay that morning—at least the second bowl, anyway. And the PB&Js I’d made us for lunch weren’t gourmet, but they were certainly edible. For dinner, the frozen pizza I’d popped in the oven had been fine after I cut off the crispy edges. With how my aunt was acting, one would have thought she hadn’t eaten since they’d fed her in the hospital.

  I hadn’t ventured into take-out options yet, but we’d run through those choices in about two days. If she didn’t call in the Old Lady Brigade, I might have to go over her head. We could use some good old-fashioned casseroles in our lives.

  Leah offered me a slice of pie, and I accepted then perched on the arm of the couch. She took the seat closest to Aunt Rose and opened her own container. “Ooh, is this The Price Is Right?”

  Aunt Rose nodded. “I always wanted to go on this show. Hey Gabe, you’re famous. Can’t you get me on?”

  I frowned. “I don’t think it works that way.”

  Leah’s jaw dropped as the price for a Hidden Valley Ranch dip mix was reveal
ed. “Good God, that’s expensive. I always buy the generic. It’s about fifty cents. I wouldn’t do well in this game.”

  “They reuse the same products, so after a while, you get a feel for how much things should cost,” Aunt Rose explained.

  Nodding, Leah put a bite of pie in her mouth, and my whole body tensed as I watched her lips curve around the fork. Eating pie shouldn’t have been that sexy, especially when Leah was sitting next to my elderly aunt, with Drew Carey’s voice as the soundtrack.

  Seeing Leah casually eat pie in our living room was surreal. It shouldn’t have been, though. I never should have let it get to that point. Damn my stubbornness. Though to be fair, she’d started it. Real mature.

  Leah used her fork to point at the TV. “You know, it would be interesting to watch one of the earlier shows to see how inflation has affected the prices.”

  “That’s a good idea!” Aunt Rose said. “I bet we can find one online.”

  I shook my head. “Bad, bad idea.”

  Cringing, Leah looked at me. “Sorry. I forgot you’re not a fan of game shows.”

  “I don’t see the point. I’d rather play the game, not watch people do it.”

  “Not everyone can be a player,” Leah said. “Life doesn’t work that way.” Her eyes met mine, and her words seemed somehow heavier, like she was talking about more than just a stupid game show.

  I loved listening to music like every other musician, but I preferred making it. I was at my best when I was taking action, not being a casual observer. Her words from last night about me being one of the few who had what it took to make it in music came back to me.

  I’d never looked at it that way. I would have been a liar if I didn’t acknowledge that I was musically gifted, but it took more than talent to make it in this business. I was a damn workhorse. My thinking had always been that anyone could do anything if they wanted it enough, if they worked hard enough, but I realized how naïve that was. People had limits, whether they came from outside or within.

  Hell. I guessed I’d better rethink my next acceptance speech for the Kids’ Choice Awards. Maybe it was wrong to tell kids they could do anything and be anything they wanted, because at the end of the day, it wasn’t true. That’s a cheery thought.