Back To You (In Tune Book 1)

by Jessica Ruddick

  The fact that Tyler was giving Gabe shit was a good sign. I felt horrible that he’d been dealing with his first death on the job, and I hadn’t realized it. To be fair, even if it had made the news, I wouldn’t have known Tyler was on the scene. He usually stuck closer to town.

  “You don’t want to know how much Brad Pitt paid for me to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and my so-called sappy shit to his daughter,” Gabe retorted. “My manager can be ruthless. But I’ll do this for the low cost of a few s’mores.”

  “I’ll roast the marshmallows.” I jumped up to retrieve them as Gabe walked toward the house to get his guitar from his car.

  “I’ll get my phone ready to film for Mary Jane.” Tyler snickered. “She’ll probably piss her pants.”

  “You better not, you fuckwad,” Gabe called over his shoulder.

  “Try me, assmunch,” Tyler called back then cursed under his breath. “Damn it, that was lame. I’m off my game.”

  I shook my head. Boys.

  Chapter 12

  Gabe

  Jesus. There I’d been, complaining about my privileged life, when Tyler had just had someone die on him. At least he hadn’t been around for my whining, but still—talk about putting things into perspective.

  I’d been a shitty friend to Tyler. I’d been so hell-bent on getting out of Cedar Creek that once I did, I hadn’t looked back. But now that I was home, I was starting to see that, as Leah said, it wasn’t so bad. For starters, there were good people here.

  And stars. Looking skyward, I marveled at the twinkling lights that were barely visible at best in the cities where I spent most of my time. Gravel crunched beneath my feet on the driveway, and I was reminded how quiet it was here. The cities always seemed to have a low roar, making it hard to think. But here, out in the middle of nowhere, there was silence.

  This was where I’d come from. I’d been a fool to stay away so long.

  I grabbed my guitar and trudged back to the bonfire, which Leah was loading up with more wood. Tyler was still slouched in his chair, staring aimlessly at the fire. When he saw me approaching, he donned a lopsided grin. “Are you going to play ‘Free Bird’ for us?”

  I grinned back. Tyler and I used to be the assholes in the audience who would yell “Play ‘Free Bird’” at shows. The first time it happened when I was on stage, I laughed so hard I could barely play my next song, which was not “Free Bird.” The more I heard that phrase yelled, the less funny and more annoying it became. Hearing Tyler say it brought back good memories, though.

  I took my seat and strummed a few chords. Damn. The thing was out of tune. I adjusted the pegs until it was perfect. “Any requests other than ‘Free Bird’?”

  “Play your favorite,” Leah said as she loaded up the roasting forks with marshmallows.

  I had to think for a minute. The question of which of my songs was my favorite was a common interview question, but there wasn’t a straight answer. It depended on what mood I was in. Some songs got the audience on their feet, while others made them solemnly hold up a lighter or, more likely, a cell phone flashlight. Obviously, I wasn’t looking for either of those reactions here.

  I decided to play one of my B-side tracks, an obscure song that most people wouldn’t have recognized. Even though it wasn’t one of my hits, it was my favorite because it was the first one I’d written that was worth a damn.

  I played the first chord progression of “She’s It,” and Leah sucked in a breath. She knew it, because I’d written it about her, for her. She’d been my muse. Hell, she still was. There was a piece of that girl in every song I wrote.

  My coming home to Cedar Creek had been a blessing I hadn’t even known I needed. It had been so easy to get lost in the midst of the glitz and glamour, but this was who I was—a kid from the wrong side of the tracks who somehow managed to surround himself with people who helped turn his life around.

  Leah was the one—she was my person. It was a miracle I’d made it so far without her. I’d wised up, though, and I wasn’t letting her go again. Granted, I technically didn’t have her—she’d made that abundantly clear. But what we had couldn’t be ignored. Soon, she would see that. She had to.

  As soon as I played the final chord, I pulled my notebook out of my guitar case and started scribbling furiously. Because suddenly, surrounded by the people who’d made me, the dam burst, and the music started flowing in my head again. Finally.

  Leah

  I’d forgotten what it was like to watch Gabe when he was inspired. The look in his eyes told me that although he was sitting right next to me, he was somewhere else entirely. He never looked more handsome than when he wore that dreamy expression, lost in the music flowing in his head.

  Tyler’s eyes met mine in the light of the fire. “We’ve lost him,” he said quietly.

  Continuing to watch Gabe, I tilted my head. He was so engrossed in his scribbling, he didn’t appear to have heard Tyler. “It’ll be worth it.” Though it often pained me to listen to his music, I couldn’t deny the beauty of it.

  Tyler shifted his chair so that it was closer to mine. In his lap, he prepped the graham crackers and chocolate for the marshmallows I’d just roasted. I let him have the first one, and he bit into it. He gave me the thumbs-up. “Perfection.”

  I took a bite of mine. “Mmm… it’s been way too long.”

  “He’s still in love with you, you know.”

  My eyes widened, and I looked up sharply. “What the hell, Tyler?” I hissed, gesturing to Gabe, who thankfully was still in his own world.

  “We don’t exist to him right now. You remember how he is when he gets like this.”

  Tyler was right, but I still didn’t want to talk about it with Gabe around. Or at all, actually.

  We belong together. Gabe’s words echoed in my mind. How long until he realized it wasn’t true? How long until he breaks my heart? “Gabe doesn’t even know me anymore,” I said. “It’s been five years. Nostalgia only goes so far.”

  “You haven’t changed that much. I mean, you might have put on a few pounds.”

  I whacked him with the roasting stick.

  “Ouch! I’m kidding! It’s more than a few pounds.”

  I raised the stick higher.

  He put his hands up in surrender. “Jeez, can’t you take a joke? Look, I’m just bringing this up now because if you hadn’t noticed, I’m a little drunk—”

  “Noticed.”

  “And I have to be drunk to talk about these things. I’m an emotionally stunted male. Anyway, I wanted to give you a heads-up because you can be dense sometimes.”

  I made a face. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just that you’re in denial. As great as it is having the band back together, he’s not going to stick around much longer. Our little bird is going to fly away like a free bird.” He elbowed me. “You see what I did there?”

  “Yes,” I said dryly. Tyler was full of laughs this evening. I was willing to give him some leeway because he was recovering from a traumatic experience, but I still didn’t want to talk about it. I would get no satisfaction from getting to say “I told you so” when it was all over.

  “He’s actually kind of a big bird, now that I think about it. A big-bird rock star. Ha. Now that’s a funny image.”

  “All of this is great, Tyler, but—”

  He stuck his finger in the air. “I have a point. I wanted to tell you all this so that maybe you’ll have time to figure out your shit before he leaves.”

  Long after I’d tucked Tyler into his sleeping bag and Gabe was still scribbling away, I lay awake in my tent, thinking about what he’d said. Tyler’s words had been the ramblings of a drunk man, but I hated to admit that he was astute, even while intoxicated. I didn’t want to read too much into Gabe playing “She’s It,” earlier. We’d been ridiculously young when he wrote it, maybe fifteen. Even then, his musical genius had been evident. But he’d written many more songs since then, ones that were objectively better. So why had he chosen i
t?

  Exhaling, I rubbed circles on my closed eyes with my fingertips. This was exactly what I hadn’t wanted to do—overanalyze things. Gabe and I had shared a moment last night. Neither of us had gotten the closure we needed when our relationship ended. So it made sense that both of us still had lingering, confusing feelings. I believed that he would always have love for me, but there was a big difference between being in love with someone and having a soft spot for someone from your past.

  Tyler was right about at least one thing—Gabe would be leaving sooner rather than later. Maybe this time, we could part on a more positive note. More importantly, though, I hoped he could get me out of his system once and for all. I owed him that much.

  Gabe

  Other than checking on Aunt Rose and eating, I lived and breathed music for the next three days straight, barely stopping to sleep. Words and melodies flowed out of me, and I scrambled to keep up. The dam in my brain had burst.

  I suspected the blockage hadn’t been in my brain but in my heart, but I’d been too stupid to realize that until after the fact.

  When I finally emerged from my room, I was thoroughly exhausted and smelled like I hadn’t showered in three days because, well, I hadn’t. Bleary-eyed, I stumbled into the living room and sank onto the couch.

  Aunt Rose turned down the volume on the game show she was watching. “Oh, so you are alive.”

  I frowned. “You know I am. You’ve seen me.”

  “No. I’ve seen a zombie who resembles you. You poured orange juice on my cereal yesterday.”

  “No, I…” But when I thought about it, I couldn’t remember getting her cereal at all. “Sorry about that. I’ve been distracted.”

  “I noticed.” She patted my hand. “It’s okay. But I do need you to drive me to my appointment this afternoon.”

  “Of course.” I noticed an empty Cedar Creek Diner carryout container. “What was that?”

  “Your girl was true to her word and brought over pie yesterday. Sorry, but I ate it all. You snooze, you lose.”

  I didn’t care about the pie. “Leah was here?”

  “Yes. She didn’t want to bother you since you were working.”

  Working… huh. I guessed since I got paid for my music, I technically was working, but I never looked at that stage of the process like that. Going on tour was definitely working, but composing was a joy. It had been a while since I’d been genuinely excited about new stuff I’d written, but what I’d come up with in the last seventy-two hours was some of the best I’d created.

  After showering and making myself presentable, I took Aunt Rose to her appointment. The doctor was pleased with her recovery so far and gave her a list of exercises to do. Then I dropped her off at home and continued to the diner. I didn’t wait to be seated, instead taking a spot at the counter. Leah was on the other side of the restaurant, delivering drinks. Even though she was busy, she met my gaze and smiled, brightening my world. It was a much different reaction from the first time I’d come into the diner with Tyler and she’d turned tail and literally run away.

  One of these days, I was going to have to give her shit about that. But it was still too fresh.

  She was what had been missing from my life, and I never wanted to be without her again.

  After I’d kissed her, I’d essentially put the ball in her court. In my gut, I knew it was the right thing to do. She needed time to catch up, but my patience was already dissipating when all I wanted to do was sweep her into my arms and keep her there.

  She tucked her tray under her arm and sauntered over. “How did the writing go?”

  I picked up the plastic menu, even though I still knew it by heart. I needed something to occupy my hands so I wouldn’t give in to the temptation of pulling her against me and giving the other patrons a show. “The writing went well. I actually need to put in a takeout dinner order.”

  Leah blinked in surprise. “Oh, right. What will you have?” She pulled her order pad out of her apron.

  “A club sandwich for Aunt Rose, and a Philly steak for me, double the fries. And throw on an order of potato skins. And wings.” Damn, I was hungry. I knew I’d eaten over the last few days, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what.

  “And pie,” Leah said. “Aunt Rose will never forgive you if you come home without pie.”

  I grinned. “Good thing I have you watching out for me.” And it should stay that way.

  Blushing, she kept her eyes focused on her order pad. “We don’t have apple today. It’s blueberry or pecan.”

  “Pecan.”

  She ripped the ticket off. “I’ll put this in for you.”

  “Are you going on break anytime soon?”

  “Sorry. I already took my dinner break.”

  I watched as she walked away, admiring how great her ass looked in that stupid waitress uniform from another era. My gaze traveled down the length of her legs, to—I squinted, trying to figure out what the hell was flapping on the bottom of her shoe. Wait… that wasn’t something stuck on her shoe—it was the shoe itself. Her damn shoe was held together with a piece of tape. Oh, hell no. It was my turn to look out for her. Before she got any farther away, I snapped a picture of her shoes. Then I got to texting.

  ME: I have a project for you.

  BETTE: Why did you send me a random picture of someone’s feet?

  ME: I need you to figure out what kind of shoes these are and order a pair to be delivered ASAP. Preferably tomorrow.

  BETTE: Interesting fashion choice. Size eleven?

  ME: They’re not for me.

  BETTE: I don’t judge.

  I snorted. Yes, she did.

  ME: If you have trouble, call Amy.

  Amy was my stylist. I only used her for award shows and other events for which I couldn’t get away with wearing jeans and T-shirts.

  I tucked my phone into my back pocket as Leah returned. She placed a basket of bread and a glass of water in front of me. “Your order should be out in about ten minutes,” she said.

  “Are you closing tonight?”

  She nodded.

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “I should get off around eight tomorrow.”

  “Come see a movie with me.”

  She frowned. “Where? In Richmond? That’s a three-hour round trip, and I have a cleaning job early the next morning.”

  It probably wasn’t a good idea. The last time I’d been in Richmond, I’d gotten stuck in a mob of fans. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to the movies. I’d been to a few red-carpet premieres with some of the actresses I’d dated, but that wasn’t the same. Being back in Cedar Creek made me forget that I couldn’t always do things like a normal person.

  “Not Richmond, then. But something.” Anything. I just wanted to spend time with this girl.

  She hesitated. “Is Tyler coming too?”

  I shook my head. “No.” Before she could protest, I reached for her hand and laced her fingers through mine, no longer able to resist touching her. “I want to spend time with you. Just you and me.” I was crossing the friend line she’d put in place but needed to push that boundary in order for her to see what I already knew—we belonged together.

  “I don’t know…” I could tell she wanted to. All it would take was a little push.

  “Come on,” I said. “Tyler’s busy casing the Stop & Shop Bandit, and Aunt Rose won’t watch anything but game shows. I’m going out of my mind.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  I grinned. I knew she’d cave if she thought she was rescuing me from suffering, no matter how minor. The girl still loved me. She just wouldn’t admit it.

  She left to tend to her other tables, only returning briefly to deliver my order and the check. When I signed the credit slip, I added a few extra zeros to the tip line.

  Chapter 13

  Leah

  When I arrived home after my cleaning job, I frowned at the sight of a package sitting outside my front door. I hadn’t ordered anything.
Occasionally, I’d had shipments delivered to the Hannigans’ door by mistake, but never the other way around. My front door wasn’t easy to find. Still, I expected to see someone else’s name on it and was surprised to see my own.

  I unlocked my door, stepped inside, then toed off my shoes. I tossed my stuff on the sofa then slid the security chain, which Mr. Hannigan had installed when he came to fix the leaky faucet, in place on the door. He explained it wouldn’t prevent a break-in when I wasn’t home, but it gave him a little more peace of mind that I’d be safer when I was there. It was a sweet gesture, and I’d again been reminded that my landlords were wonderful people. Of course, they were both retired teachers, and it took a dedicated and caring sort to make it thirty-odd years in that profession.

  I grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced open the box. Inside was another box—a shoe box. I opened it to find a brand-new pair of black shoes identical to the ones I wore to work at the diner. The size was correct and everything.

  Only one person could have been responsible—Gabe. Though I didn’t know how he’d managed to locate the exact pair I’d been wearing and get them to my front door in less than eighteen hours.

  I stared at the shoes with mixed feelings. It was embarrassing that my shoes were so pathetic he’d felt the need to immediately buy me a new pair. It was a sweet thing to do, and I might have been inclined to swallow my humiliation and simply say thank you if not for the four-figure tip he’d left me last night. With any other customer, I would have pocketed the money and counted myself lucky. It wasn’t uncommon for celebrities to leave massive tips—pictures of them popped up on social media all the time. But with Gabe, it was complicated. We were navigating the tricky terrain of friendship, and this wasn’t friend stuff.

  I didn’t have time to dwell on it—I was due at the diner in less than an hour. I had just enough time to eat, shower, and drive over there. Hoping to be able to finish up an assignment on my break, I grabbed my laptop on the way out the door.