To Bring You Back

by Emily Conrad

  John hit the button to open one of the garage doors. He parked between a fancy red sports car and a black sedan like the one they rode in. She got out of the car and spotted Gannon’s motorcycle parked nearby, as well as another car.

  Bruce scrambled up from the backseat and vaulted out. Tegan, who must’ve parked outside the garage, entered with her bag slung over her shoulder, expression marked with a mix of awe and uncertainty.

  “Don’t let the money fool you.” John retrieved Adeline’s bag and shouldered Tegan’s too.

  “Fool us?” Adeline asked.

  “Into thinking we’re more than just some guys with guitars and drums.” He whistled, and Bruce followed him to the door leading inside. John pulled it open, and Bruce trekked in, sniffing along the hardwood floor of the hall toward whatever lay ahead.

  “Who’s Rob?” Gannon crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe as Harper opened one of her suitcases. To keep her away from his own room, he’d brought her luggage here, to a room along the great room balcony. Though he longed for sleep, what she’d told him ought to be dealt with.

  “A fling. It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious, but he saw it differently.” She withdrew a smaller bag from her suitcase and set it on the bed. “I stopped by his place, and when I tried to leave …” She chewed her lip for a moment, frozen, then shook her head and went back to unpacking. She lifted a silky slip.

  He turned his gaze away. If she wanted a reaction, she wouldn’t get it here. “What happened?”

  She left the slip and rounded the bed to stand in front of him. “We were arguing about what our relationship is and isn’t. I put my hand on his arm”—she touched Gannon’s arm where the honor tattoo ran—“and he pushed me off.”

  “Hard enough to do this.” He lifted his hand but stopped short of touching her cheek.

  Her bruised and red eyelid half covered her blue iris. She held eye contact for a moment, then nodded and shrugged away. “I got out, him screaming behind me that he’d find me. You don’t think he’d come all the way here, do you?”

  That depended on the man’s resources and determination, and given this new information, Gannon wondered if this man had both. What if he’d also caused Harper’s injuries at Gannon’s apartment?

  “Was this guy involved the first time you got hurt?”

  She cocked her head, expression troubled. “Oh. At your place? No. I fell, like I said.”

  That lined up with the security footage. It was easier to believe she’d fallen the first time than that her fling had erased his presence on the video. And one attack was plenty serious. “You ought to press charges.”

  She eased past him and onto the balcony, as if considering what he’d said. But then she asked, “How many dogs do you have here?”

  “Just the two.” Trigger and Camo had greeted them when they walked in, so John must’ve left his door open.

  “But this one’s different.”

  Gannon joined her on the balcony. A black dog with white on his muzzle explored the great room. On spotting them, the dog barked once and wagged his tail.

  “Bruce, be quiet.”

  Sick pressure built in his stomach. Bruce and Adeline? Here? Now?

  Harper arched an eyebrow. “Bruce? What kind of dog name is that?”

  “You should call it a night.” He started for the stairs. He’d descended only a couple of them when he caught sight of Adeline, Tegan, and John coming down the hall from the garage. Though dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, Adeline appeared to have just rolled out of bed, her hair a gorgeous tangle of waves.

  Behind her, Tegan gazed at the room as if she was touring Versailles, and John carried two bags. His gaze hooked firmly on Harper, who stood at the railing. If the drummer were the type to give lectures, Gannon would be in for one.

  Adeline didn’t seem to notice her. She met Gannon at the base of the stairs and leaned into him, arms finding their way around his waist.

  He held her, but confusion, regret, and worry kept him from enjoying it. Was that smoke he smelled on her? “What’s going on?”

  “Called and texted you, man.” John glared at Harper another moment before fastening his glare on Gannon. “Someone started Adeline’s house on fire.”

  “What?” His stomach filled with acid as he studied what he could see of Adeline for damage. Her forehead was smooth and pale, her hair glossy, the shoulders of her top unsinged.

  “It wasn’t serious.” She stepped back from him and snuggled her arms across her body, as if she still needed a hug. “It was probably an accident, but John thought we should come here.”

  Tegan’s gaze locked on the second-floor landing. It was only a matter of time until Adeline noticed Harper too, and what would she think? She’d been concerned about his relationship with the actress already.

  John handed Gannon one of the bags. “She heard someone messing around in the yard earlier. Cigarette butts next to the yard waste bags. Could’ve burned the whole place down.”

  “On purpose?”

  Instead of replying, John caught Tegan’s eye and tilted his head toward the kitchen. “There are rooms this way.”

  Tegan offered Adeline a glance loaded with sympathy, then left. Bruce trotted after them.

  “Some of Gannon’s fans are the jealous type, aren’t they, honey?”

  Adeline’s big brown eyes angled up to the balcony. Her lips parted as she spotted Harper, who’d hidden behind her sunglasses again. The differences between the two had never stood out so strongly. Harper, intent on controlling appearances with sunglasses, styled hair, designer clothes, and aloof comments, versus Adeline, who remained authentic and vulnerable with raw beauty that didn’t come from surgeons, stylists, or makeup.

  He pulled his focus away to check his phone. Adeline had called once, and John had texted and called, all around the time he’d left his phone in the SUV to grab Harper’s bags. He hadn’t thought to check for messages when he got back in the car because it was so late. Everyone should’ve been sleeping. He’d left Adeline safe and sound just hours before.

  Now she gaped at him, displaced, looking lost and hurt.

  Harper was talking again. “… in a bag that size. Clothes for tomorrow, something to sleep in, hair and makeup products, styling tools. If you need to borrow anything, I’m sure I have extra.”

  Adeline’s bottom lip disappeared, and her line of sight settled on her bag as if she’d discovered it contained a rattlesnake. She must’ve forgotten something.

  Harper’s musical laugh fell from the balcony. “Come on up, honey. I’ll lend you whatever you need.” She pivoted and disappeared into her room.

  Adeline eyed him with pain and suspicion. He couldn’t blame her. To make matters worse, Harper was right. One of his fans probably had done this to her.

  Harper was apparently so confident they’d come to her that she remained in her room. They could round the corner toward the other bedrooms before she came out and discovered they’d gone.

  “I’ll get you set up.” He motioned her to follow him upstairs.

  Adeline stepped from the hardwood of the living room to the wood of the stairs. The risers, fashioned out of logs cut in half the long way, were wide enough that Gannon could’ve walked beside her with space to spare. Instead, he rested a hand on the small of her back as if Harper’s being here changed nothing.

  The log steps, the exposed beams in the ceiling, and the stone fireplace matched the feel of the exterior, but as soon as they were up the stairs and around the corner, the hints that this was a cabin disappeared.

  Gannon’s hand brushed over her back, drawing her attention to his concerned expression. “I’m sorry she’s here. Some man in LA attacked her, and she ran here. I didn’t know she was coming until she texted on her way from the airport. She got a flat tire. Tim and I were out, picking her up when you called.”

  “Okay.” She was too tired and numb to deal with the overload of emotions. Her house. The search for Bruce. Harper.
Being here with Gannon.

  His frown said he knew nothing was okay.

  Her phone beeped, and she paused to check the screen. Her battery was at two percent. Gannon watched her.

  “I forgot a charger and cord.”

  “Micro USB?”

  She angled the phone so he could see the charging port.

  With a nod, he continued down the hall and past a study. He opened a door on the right and clicked on a lamp, revealing his hat on the desk. Next to it, a black leather duffle and a guitar case.

  The bed frame was made of driftwood, understated and naturally beautiful. The plush carpet reached over the thin base of her flip-flops to touch the edge of her toe. Over the desk hung an oil painting of a storm-tossed ship, exquisite light detail on the waves.

  Gannon set down her bag and crossed to the nightstand. He lived here with no comfort spared, while she struggled to hold on to her rundown house.

  Her rundown, smoldering house.

  “What’s the truth about you and Harper?”

  He turned from the drawer he’d opened, forehead knit. “I told you. Friends. If that.”

  “But she’s here.”

  “How could I send her away?” He took a black cord from the drawer.

  She picked up her overnight bag. She’d been attacked too. Why did Harper get the same treatment, the same level of protection? Wasn’t Adeline’s relationship with Gannon different? Couldn’t Harper fend for herself? But those were selfish thoughts, weren’t they? Fatigue blurred all the answers.

  Gannon set the cord on the desk and put his hands on her elbows, his touch firm. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if something had happened to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. If I’d known you needed me, I would’ve been there.”

  He would’ve known she needed him if he hadn’t been with Harper. She stepped backward, into the hall.

  With a heavy sigh, Gannon picked up the cord and her bag again. “This is all it’ll take. The outlets have USB chargers built in.” He studied her in the dim light that spilled into the hall, then sighed again. “You want a lake view?”

  “What?”

  “From your room. Do you want it to overlook the lake?”

  “Sure. Yes.”

  He motioned her to continue down the hall. They passed a couple of more rooms and climbed another staircase.

  “John’s staying up here too. Take this hall around that corner. I’m sure you’ll find Bruce there, if you want him. But these are the lake-view rooms. The best is probably the third door down.”

  The one directly above his own room. She nudged open the door. A wall of windows overlooked the lake, a feature Gannon’s room had boasted too. On the dresser, a tray held orchids growing from a piece of driftwood. The comforter bulged, inviting her to flop in and sleep like she’d never slept before.

  He laid the cord on the writing table by the door. “Harper—”

  Adeline lifted her hand. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

  He swallowed, tense, and nodded. “Do you need anything else?”

  She shook her head. How could she begin to name the things she needed right now?

  “If that changes—”

  “—John’s right around the corner.”

  He lowered his head and rubbed his neck, then retreated into the hall without putting up a fight.

  Adeline eased herself onto the bed and stared at the empty doorway. She should’ve let him explain. She’d thought it’d be better to wait for a fresh day, a little sleep to renew her perspective, but she wouldn’t sleep with all these unanswered questions between them.

  Something in the hall rustled. He must not be able to leave their relationship so shaky either. She scanned the room. Two armchairs waited for a conversation by the windows, but they probably ought to talk somewhere other than a bedroom. The study they’d passed would suffice. She stood to head him off.

  Harper appeared in the doorway, still wearing sunglasses, a tote over her shoulder. She pranced into the room, more agile in her platform wedge sandals than Adeline could ever dream of being.

  With a giggle, Harper held a tote toward her. “Here you go, hon.”

  Hon? Adeline almost corrected her, asking her to call her by name, but she stopped. A little pink was visible below the rim of the glasses. Harper needed grace. She could let a pet name slide.

  Harper extended the tote closer. “I just saw my stylist, and he had all kinds of goodies for me, so I’m sharing.” She emphasized the last word as if Adeline would be impressed she had the manners of a kindergartner.

  Adeline took the tote. “Okay, thanks. I’m going to get to bed, so …”

  The sunglasses made Harper’s face unreadable, but she smiled sweetly. She sure was peppy for someone who’d been attacked earlier. “Aren’t you going to look?”

  Adeline didn’t bother to hide her sigh as she retrieved the bag and parted the handles. The bag contained full-size bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Something black and lacy pooled at the bottom. A headband? She hooked the fabric with her finger and lifted it.

  Lingerie.

  She let it fall back into the tote.

  “Brand new. Tags and all.” Harper touched the lip of the tote and peeked inside, the baby powder scent of her perfume nauseating. “I won’t be needing it, and Gannon likes that kind of thing.”

  Adeline’s stomach rolled at the implications.

  Harper smiled and withdrew to the hall. “Have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

  The bag fell from Adeline’s fingers.

  Is this how you clean up my heart, God? You dismantle the relationship most likely to make me stumble?

  No. She needed to be doubting Gannon’s goodness, not God’s.

  And even that …

  Harper was probably lying, but if she was that kind of person, why would he have let the actress onto the property? Surely there were other safe places for her. Unless Gannon had feelings for her. Unresolved feelings, like the kind that might linger after an intimate relationship.

  The bag lay at her feet. She should’ve sent the offering away with Harper. But even if it were gone, the image of the lingerie would’ve remained. This was ugly. A relationship she resented and certainly hadn’t wanted to see the inner workings of. Was that how God felt about Adeline’s own past with Gannon?

  Lord, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

  It wasn’t a permanent solution, but with her foot, she shoved the bag under the bed and got ready to sleep.

  She needed a step back. Gannon had taken a misstep here, but she shouldn’t assume that misstep included intimacy with Harper. He deserved the chance to defend himself. But first, she needed rest, or she’d never think straight about any of this.

  God, I’m going to need Your peace if I’m ever going to sleep.

  21

  Heavy fatigue discouraged Adeline from opening her eyes. It was still dark, and nothing the day could hold would be as wonderful as the sensation of this soft bed, this quiet room. But uneasiness slithered into her limbs. The bed was too comfortable, the room too silent. She moved her arm, and a pillow plopped to the ground, though one remained under her head.

  Where had the second pillow come from? Her eyes opened to darkness, not her bedside clock. When she twisted, sheets softer and smoother than her own slid against her skin.

  The fire and the search for Bruce and the trip to Havenridge hit. Harper and the lingerie. She’d lain in bed, praying for peace. God must’ve answered, or she wouldn’t have slept.

  Lord, could you top me off again?

  The anger from last night had turned to an ache. As she’d fallen asleep in her own bed before the fire, she would’ve sworn she loved Gannon and he loved her, that the vulnerability of opening up to him had paid off with healing. But what was going on with Harper?

  She groped for the bedside table where she’d left her phone. Once she found it, pressing the button didn’t illuminate the screen. The device must’ve died before she’d plugged it
in. Powering up would take it a minute.

  Her gaze found the blue numbers of a clock. 11:38? That didn’t make sense. She couldn’t have slept all day and into the night. She sat up and felt for the switch on one of the bedside lamps.

  Her bag, a large canvas tote she’d gotten free on Black Friday, slumped in a corner like a runaway who’d snuck into a luxury hotel.

  A ping rose from the phone. Tegan had texted.

  I’m at class. Let me know if you need anything.

  After untangling herself from the sheets, Adeline crossed the room and slid her fingers between the thick layers of curtains. Light answered, washing through the crack. She’d slept until almost noon, not midnight.

  Sunlight bathed the lake all the way to the horizon. Tiny white flashes—gulls—rose and fell along the tree-heavy shore of Liberty Island. Beneath the window, the pristine lawn and flagstone patio rested empty, lending no hints about who she might run into first if she ventured from the room.

  She didn’t belong here. Didn’t want to face any of them. Not Harper with her lingerie, not Gannon with his explanations. Not even John, since he always saw more than he commented on. He would know in one look that she’d fallen completely for Gannon, and Harper’s presence meant it wasn’t as mutual as she’d thought.

  Or maybe Harper’s presence meant something else.

  Lord, bring the truth to light and show me what to do with it.

  Going downstairs and interacting with people was the only way to find out what was going on, but she didn’t want any of these people witnessing her pain if the worst was true.

  It probably wasn’t.

  But just in case, she’d do everything she could to protect herself. She would clean up, apply makeup, style her hair, and wear the dress she’d packed—originally to impress Gannon but now to act as armor.

  Gannon went to the kitchen for lunch and found Harper at the stove, a wok hissing over a burner.