by Marie Force
“What’s your favorite color?” she asked, feeling buzzed and mellow after the food and wine.
“Red. You?”
“Purple.”
“Dogs or cats?” he asked.
“Duh. Dogs. Sheep or goats?”
He gave her an adorably perplexed look. “Am I supposed to have a preference?”
Julia laughed. “Yes! Goats are the cutest. Have you ever seen baby goats? I’m going to have baby goats at my house someday, but not until I’m settled somewhere permanently.”
“Okay, then, goats it is.”
She smiled triumphantly. “City or country?”
“Both? I loved living in Boston, but I can also see the benefit of the country. I was in Harwich before this, and I liked being there, too. That’s not really the country, but the pace is nothing like Boston.”
“I like both, too, but prefer island life to just about anything.”
“Island life used to drive me bonkers when I was a kid. I used to dream of just getting in the water and swimming to the mainland to get out of here.”
“You had no idea how lucky you were to be raised here, to never have to leave.”
“No, I didn’t.” He waggled his brows at her suggestively. “But I’m starting to see the benefit to being stuck here.”
Julia’s face flushed with heat as his gruffly spoken words set off the wildfire inside her once again. Never before had a man been able to turn her on using mere words the way this man could.
“Beach or mountains?” she asked.
“Beach every day and twice on Sunday.”
“Me, too. I miss the beach so much when I’m in Texas.”
Deacon spread goat cheese on a small piece of bread and fed it to her. “What was your favorite place you ever lived?”
“Right here. Every summer at this hotel with my grandparents was the best time of my entire life. Those months here were the only respite we ever got from the shitshow at home. We used to cry for days when we had to go home.”
“None of you ever told them what was going on at home?”
Julia shook her head. “We were too afraid to. He told us what would happen if we ‘told tales out of school.’ He said what went on in our home was our business and no one else’s. We were also fearful of what would happen to our mom, because she didn’t get to come with us. She was stuck at home with him. My grandmother was inconsolable when the whole story came out years later.”
“I can only imagine. I know he’s your dad and everything, but I’m so, so glad he’s finally where he’s belonged for years.”
“I am, too. Sometimes I still can’t believe it actually happened, that he pleaded guilty and was thrown in jail. I’ll hear someone screaming or shouting, and I tense up. Then I remember. He’s not coming for me ever again.”
“Did he…” Deacon swallowed hard, his jaw tensing.
“My mom and my brothers were the ones he hit and physically abused. He used his words against me and my sisters. His favorite form of warfare with us was emotional.”
“God, Julia. I’m so sorry you had to grow up that way.”
“Me, too, but at least you understand why I am the way I am.”
“I think the way you are is pretty damned awesome.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say.”
“I mean it.”
Julia had been so caught up in the conversation with Deacon that she’d failed to notice that Owen and Evan had begun their set on the stage located on the far side of the big dining room.
She tuned in to hear Evan sing “My Amazing Grace,” his chart-topping hit, with Owen accompanying him on background. “I love this song.”
“I do, too. It’s so great to see him getting the attention he deserves. He’s so crazy-talented.”
“He really is.”
“So is Owen.”
Julia nodded. “The music saved him during the worst of it with our father. He just lost himself in it.” She had, too, but she wasn’t about to share that part of herself with him or anyone. That had gotten lost along the way, and it’d been years since she’d played or sung.
Almost as if he was reading her mind, Owen stepped up to the microphone and began to speak directly to her. “I’m not the only Lawry who got the music gene.”
Julia felt like she’d been struck by someone she trusted and loved more than just about anyone. He was not doing this. No way. She stood, needing to get out of there before he could force her to confront something so painful, the mere thought of it threatened to swallow her whole.
“My sister Julia is a gifted musician and has the most incredible voice I’ve ever heard. She hasn’t performed in public in a while, but I really hope she’ll gift us with her talent tonight, because once you’ve heard her play the piano and sing, you’ll never forget it.”
Chapter 23
Julia wanted to die, to melt into the floor before he could say something that would force her to confront the past once again. She would’ve fled, but her legs couldn’t seem to get the message from her brain that she needed to get the hell out of there right now.
Owen handed his guitar to Evan and brought the microphone with him when he came down off the stage to meet her.
“My beautiful sister Julia is here, and you guys… How about we give her a round of applause and see if we can get her up here to play for us?”
As the rest of people in the room went wild clapping, whistling and stomping their feet, Julia couldn’t breathe. How could Owen do this to her?
She shook her head.
Owen came to a stop right in front of her. “Pretty please?” He compelled her with his eyes to be bigger than the fear, bigger than the past.
Maybe it was the wine she’d consumed or the way Deacon smiled so widely at her when she glanced back at him as he clapped and whistled louder than anyone. She summoned the courage from deep inside, took the hand Owen extended to her and held on tight to the brother who’d been her rock. They walked toward the stage and the instrument that’d been such a huge part of her life until that, too, had been lost to the madness.
“I’m gonna kill you for this,” she muttered.
His broad smile touched her heart. “Take it back, Jule. It’s been waiting a long time for you to come home to it.”
She blinked back tears as she nodded and took her strength from him the way she had all her life. Her big brother, her protector, her dearest friend, her fellow survivor. If he could do it, so could she.
Owen and Evan left her alone on the stage, fighting back panic, memories and pervasive sadness to focus on the thing that had kept her alive through some of the darkest days of her life. As long as she could lose herself in the music, she could find her way through to the other side of whatever crisis faced her. Until the monster had taken it from her by forbidding her to play or sing in public or at home.
He’d known how much it meant to her, so he’d taken it, the way he’d taken everything else that mattered to her. The music had lived inside her and given her a purpose. When he’d taken it from her… That’d been the first time her heart had been broken.
Julia sat behind the piano and thought about the recent hit song she’d fallen in love with. She’d never played or sung it before, so it was risky to do it for the first time in front of a packed house, but her fingers found the keys, and the magic came back in a tsunami of emotion that had her throat closing for a full minute until she got herself together and found the words she needed.
From the first time she’d heard Lady Gaga sing “Always Remember Us This Way,” Julia had connected to the song like she hadn’t connected to anything musical in years. As the song poured from her soul, she forgot about everything and anything that wasn’t the music, the way she had when she’d used music to escape the nightmare that’d been her life.
By the time she played the final notes, she was on the way to a crash landing from the emotional high until the room exploded in applause that had her climbing once again. People were stand
ing, cheering, whistling. Owen wiped tears from his eyes as he joined her on the stage. “Am I right?” he said into the mic, setting off another round of wild applause.
Julia stood on trembling legs to accept a hug from her brother. “Most beautiful thing I’ve heard in forever,” he whispered in her ear. “Stunning.”
She clung to him the way she had all her life, holding on to one of the six people who had never let her down.
Owen released her, stepped aside and led another round of enthusiastic applause. “One more?”
Julia rolled her eyes at him.
“Pretty please?”
The enthusiastic support of the audience had her playing the opening notes to Kelly Clarkson’s song “Because of You.” Julia vividly remembered sitting in her car with tears rolling down her face the first time she heard that song and understood that it was about someone like her, who’d been abused and would carry those scars with her forever.
Like then, the song made her cry even as she tried to power through it without becoming overly emotional.
The audience’s applause was even louder when she finished the second song. She wiped away her tears and forced a smile for Deacon, who was standing and smiling and clapping with enthusiasm.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Owen said, “one more round for my sister, Julia Lawry.”
While the crowd went wild, Deacon came to the steps to offer her a hand.
Owen sat on a stool and strummed his guitar. “I’ve always hated having to follow Julia, and now you know why. But the show must go on.” He played the opening notes to “Yellow” by Coldplay.
Deacon put an arm around Julia and kept her close to him as people praised her performance on the way out of the crowded restaurant. “That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard,” he said in the gruff voice that was quickly becoming her favorite sound ever.
“I’m going to lose it any second now,” she said so only he could hear her.
He stepped up the pace, steered her toward the porch and held her as the emotion poured from her in a torrent of tears that made her feel weak, but damn if she could contain them.
“Sweet Julia,” Deacon whispered. “There’s so much more to you than I ever could’ve imagined.”
He held her while she got it all out in a flood of memories and emotion and yearning for more of the thing that had sustained her.
“Excuse me,” Evan said from behind them. “I’m so sorry to interrupt.”
Julia raised her head from Deacon’s chest and wiped her eyes, embarrassed to have been caught having an emotional meltdown by a singer of Evan’s caliber.
“I just want to say…” Evan shook his head, seeming flabbergasted. “Your voice is magical.”
“Thank you so much. That means a lot coming from you.”
“Julia… I’m rarely at a loss for words, but why in the hell are you not a professional singer?”
“I found myself on a different path,” she said, simplifying one of the more complicated things she’d ever confronted.
“I’d love to talk to you about it if you have a few minutes.” He handed her a business card. “I own Island Breeze Records, and I’ll be there every day until mid-July. Feel free to stop by any time.”
Julia took the card from him, the whole thing too surreal for words. “Thank you.”
“You have a rare and special talent. I really hope you’ll come by.” He nodded to Deacon. “You guys have a great night.”
Evan walked away, leaving Julia stunned and unnerved by what he’d said and offered.
“Holy shit,” Deacon whispered. “Julia… Oh my God!”
She couldn't seem to form a rational thought or reaction to what’d just taken place. Just over a week ago, she’d been sleeping on a friend’s sofa after losing her job and her apartment. Today, she had Deacon and a puppy and a new job, and now Evan McCarthy wanted her to “come by” his studio to talk about her “rare and special talent.”
No, there was no way that last part could be real. No way. She was still having trouble believing Deacon was for real. Evan, well… That was too crazy to be believed.
“What do you need, darlin’?”
“I, uh… I just don’t know.”
Julia didn’t know what she needed, but apparently, Deacon did. He put that strong arm around her again and guided her inside to the stairs that led up to the sanctuary of her room. Tomorrow, she’d meet up with Cindy to see about the house they were thinking of renting. But for now, for tonight, the hotel, her favorite place in the world, was home.
When they reached her door, Deacon found the key in her purse and dealt with the lock, ushering her in ahead of him. He cared for her so naturally, as if he’d been doing it forever rather than only a few days.
Julia turned to him, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For being you. For being just what I need when I needed you most.”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, his lips finding the sensitive skin on her neck. “You’re making a mess of me.”
That voice, dear God, she would hear it in her dreams for the rest of her life and shiver at the memory. “Is that a good thing?”
“It’s the best fucking thing ever.”
* * *
Much later, Deacon lay on his side in Julia’s bed, drinking in the sight of her in the moonlight pouring in through her window. He’d intended to go home, to get a good night’s sleep before work in the morning, but he’d been unable to find the energy to leave her after loving her once again.
From the crate, Puppy’s little snores had had them cracking up earlier. He’d crashed hard after Deacon took him out to pee.
In the soft afterglow of wild passion, Deacon ran his hand up and down Julia’s arm, delighting in the goose bumps that broke out on her sensitive skin. “Tell me about the music.”
Her deep sigh made him wish he hadn’t asked, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.
“When we were little, we all had to have an activity. We got to pick what we wanted to do, but we had to do something. My dad wanted us all to do sports, so I played soccer—not well—and took piano lessons. I really loved playing the piano, and my teacher in Virginia told my mother I was a prodigy. My grandparents bought me a gorgeous little baby grand piano that I played for hours every day. I played until my fingers ached and my back hurt, and then I played more. I could hear something once and play it without sheet music. By the time I was eleven, I was playing in church and performing the music for a local dance studio’s recitals.”
“At eleven? That’s incredible.”
“I loved it so much. It was the thing that made me special. Owen played the guitar from the time he was twelve, but he didn’t get really good until he was older. When I was sixteen, I was invited to play with a local cover band at a festival. It was the greatest day of my life. We killed it. The guys in the band were so happy. My dad, though… He was furious.”
“Why?” Deacon wished he could have five minutes alone with the man who’d fathered her.
“He said he didn’t like me spending time with men who looked at me like I was their little whore.”
“Come on.” He ached for her even as he wished he had something he could punch.
“I didn’t know what a whore was. I had to look it up.”
Deacon put his arm around her and brought her as close to him as he could get her. He wanted to hold her and protect her and keep her from ever being hurt again. And he’d never wanted that with any other woman. Not like this.
“When we moved that summer, he told me we couldn’t fit the piano in the move, so he’d sold it. I was hysterical for days. I begged him to reconsider. My mom begged him. But he wasn’t having it. The people who bought the piano came to get it and took it away. I hadn’t played again until tonight, when Owen basically forced me to.”
He couldn’t believe she hadn’t played since she was
sixteen but had sounded like an angel tonight. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart.”
“It was nothing compared to what happened to Owen.”
“It was everything to you.” He ran his fingers through her hair, over and over again, trying to contain the rage that boiled in his gut. “Evan’s right. You have a rare and special gift. I’ve never heard anything more beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“Why didn’t you go back to it when you were free of him?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time in therapy discussing that. The best explanation I can give is that you end up in survival mode after living the way we did for so long. You’re conditioned to avoid the things that caused pain in the past. Music equaled pain for me, so I avoided it.”
“I want you to have the music again, this time without the pain. I want that for you so badly. I want it for me, too, and everyone else who’ll have the pleasure of hearing you sing and play.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You can. You just did. Your dad is never going to be able to hurt you again.”
“I know.” She looked up at him, her expression so open and trusting. “You should know that I’ve never talked about this with anyone, not even Owen or Katie. I refused to discuss it after it happened. I just locked it away and tried to move on.”
“Thank you for sharing it with me. It means a lot to me that you did.”
“I couldn’t believe Owen was doing that…”
“He wants you to have it again, too.”
“When I got to the stage, he said, ‘Take it back, Jule.’”
“That’s exactly what you should do. Your father forced you to give it up. Now you can take it back and give him a massive middle finger.”
Julia laughed at the ferocious way he said that.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are.”
“I’m dead serious, Julia.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. I really do.”
“You’re free of him. You’re all free of him. Your mom has remarried. Owen and Katie have made beautiful lives for themselves. Your other siblings are doing well. There’s no reason whatsoever that you shouldn’t have anything and everything you want. If you want to play and perform, then that’s what you should do. You should play every single day, if that’s what you want to do.”