by Jane Tara
Stan grinned and thrust his hand over the bar. “A face that pretty, won’t take much getting used to. Are you the New Yorker who’s opening up the old Majestic?”
Rhi nodded and Stan leaned across the bar. “You know, I’ve got a voice that puts Sinatra’s to shame. Not sure if you’ve ever thought of putting on a musical, but if you do, think of Stan, ’cause I’m your man.” Stan plunked the bottle of wine on the counter. “On the house,” he said, with a wink, before wandering off singing, “The Surrey with the Fringe on Top.”
Annie gave a chuckle as she poured the wine. “That’s a first. Stan Knight charges his own mother.”
“Knight? As is Jake and Sam?”
“Yep. He’s responsible for those boys. And their mother sells Avon, so beware.” Annie lifted her glass. “I’m glad you moved here, Rhi.”
Rhi lifted her glass and clinked Annie’s. “Me too.”
Rhi scanned the room. O’Reilly’s was large, with deep green walls above wood paneling and floorboards. There were tables and chairs in the center of the room, with higher tables and stools against the walls. There was a jukebox and two pool tables to one side, but the attention tonight was focused on a small stage. The decor was sedate and stylish. The clientele were anything but. They were loud, casually dressed and, without exception, appeared to be having fun. Rhi relaxed and took another sip of her wine.
“I finally get to meet you!”
Rhi was suddenly enveloped in a huge set of bosoms before they stepped back and she could breathe again. It took her a moment to recover and take in that the bosoms were attached to a rather large woman with an ornate blond updo and a fabulous smile.
“I’m Crystal,” she said, before leaning over and giving Annie a similar hug. Unlike Rhi, Annie was prepared, and kept her head on an angle that meant she could breathe.
“Don’t you look gorgeous?” Annie said.
“Thanks, honey. I’ve got a hot date.” Crystal waved two fingers at Stan and he immediately started pouring her two Guinness. Then she turned back to Rhi and gave her an appraising stare. Rhi matched her and realized Annie was right. Crystal was gorgeous. She had lovely skin, high cheekbones, full lips and curves in all the right places…even if they were extra large.
“You obviously like a challenge. Taking on that pile of bricks.”
“I’m giving it a shot.”
“You’ll succeed.” Crystal’s incredible blue eyes searched Rhi’s. For a fleeting second she looked quite sad, but then she smiled again. “I’m so pleased you’ve moved to town.”
Rhi was thrown by her warmth and familiarity.
Annie butted in before she had time to respond. “Who’s your hot date, Crystal?”
“Larry Embers.” She waved her head toward the corner where a good-looking man sat.
“God, Crystal, you’re an inspiration. Every single woman in town over forty has been after him for years.”
Crystal gave a chuckle. “Says she who’s been leading two of the hottest men in town along for about that long.”
Annie gave her a playful slap. “Rubbish. Now go get him.”
Crystal gave them both a wink and sauntered off toward Larry, ample hips swaying sexily. Annie leaned toward Rhi.
“You should get Crystal to read your tarot cards, Rhi. She’s amazing.”
“Do you believe in all that?”
“Of course. She told me I’m going to be rich, happily married and have two gorgeous kids. What’s not to believe?”
The two women laughed. Rhi noticed a poster advertising St Patrick’s Day celebrations in town. She turned to Annie. “I read that there are a lot of Irish in Hamlet.”
“A lot with Irish heritage. Irish is a state of mind ’round here. What’s your background?”
“My parents are both English but met in New York and decided to call it home.”
“Any siblings?”
“Twin older brothers. What about you?”
“One sister. Married, lives in Chicago and has four kids. My parents moved out there to be near the grandkids.” Annie ran a red nail around the rim of her glass. “So how hot are your brothers?”
Rhi burst out laughing and was about to describe Taran and Finn when she saw Tad Daniels enter the bar and her mind went blank. Annie followed Rhi’s gaze and gave a chuckle.
“Speaking of hot.” She raised her arm and gave Tad a wave. He smiled and waved back, before his eyes rested on Rhi. His stare was like a Sahara summer. She nodded a hello. His eyes narrowed briefly, as though trying to recall her, and then he disappeared through the backstage door.
“Is he blind?”
Annie poured them both another wine. “Probably nervous before the gig.”
“Either he needs glasses or he doesn’t remember me.” Embarrassed, Rhi took a long swig of pride salve. “Obviously I didn’t make much of an impression.”
“That’s just Tad. He’s reserved.”
“He didn’t seem reserved when I met him,” said Rhi, remembering his amused gray eyes and knowing grin. And they’d met not once, but twice. Surely he recognized her? She stared at the backstage door, silently willing him to come back out.
As though on cue he appeared, followed closely behind by Tye, Sam and finally Jake. O’Reilly’s erupted into cheers. The band ignored the crowd. Sam moved in behind the drums and picked up his drumsticks, twirling them around a few times. Jake slung a guitar around his neck and Tad sat at the keyboard. Tye kept her back to the crowd. Her voice rang through the cheers.
“One, two three, four.”
And suddenly she turned and sprang to life, a fiddle at her chin, a look of intense concentration on her face. She was decked out in her usual barefooted garb, this time her top—touting Peace by example—was smaller than usual, displaying her flat, toned abs. The crowd went ballistic.
Rhi watched as Sam scanned the others, his drum the beating heart of the group. His blond hair kept flopping in his face and his mouth would twist into a pucker as he blew it back. Jake’s fingers slid across the guitar strings, while he locked eyes with girl after girl, rewarding them with a grin or a wink.
“Look at the fool, flirting with all the girls,” Annie called over the music. “He’ll lose track of where he’s at.”
“He seems to know what he’s doing.”
“With the guitar…or with Sophia Copeland down the front?”
Rhi watched a pretty brunette smile up at Jake. “Does that bother you?”
“No, why would it?” Annie straightened her skirt. “We’re just friends.”
“And Sam?”
“Same. Just friends. Mind you, that man concentrates on his instrument.”
Rhi gave Annie a look and the two started laughing.
“You know what I mean! They’re good, aren’t they?
“They are.”
But it was Tad and Tye who stole Rhi’s breath. Tad poured himself into the keyboard, his eyes closed, occasionally lifting his head to sing harmony to Tye’s spellbinding voice. Rhi watched him, fascinated by the way he moved as he played, occasionally closing his eyes as though it helped him feel the music more intensely. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a white T-shirt with a chambray shirt over the top but left unbuttoned. He dressed like he didn’t have a care in the world, but he played like he carried everyone’s. He was alone with his band and his music. Nothing else existed.
Tye, on the other hand, switched from punk to pixie and back again. She connected with people. She sang to them. She gazed into them, glamoring them, then snap—she was off again, leaving whoever it was looking rather bewildered. She bounded around the stage, playing the fiddle with fierce intensity, and then she’d stop still and her angelic voice would ring through the night like an otherworldly echo.
The music was a mix of Celtic punk, funk and rock. It contained whispers of centuries lost while paving the way to something new, something fresh and completely unique.
Annie leaned in and yelled in Rhi’s ear: “Tye and Tad write all the mu
sic.”
“I’m not sure whether to be completely impressed or wildly jealous—they’re so talented.”
Annie nodded. “I usually settle for a mix of both.”
Ceridwen played for well over an hour, including three encores. By the end of their set, Tye’s long, sexy limbs glistened with sweat. They finished with a ballad, which Tye and Tad sang acapella. They sang of love and magic and a world hidden in the hills. The way they sang, they sounded like they were from another realm; nothing human could sound so perfect. Rhi looked at the crowd: mesmerized, moved, a scattered few let tears flow unashamedly.
And then it was over, and the roar was louder than ever. This time Tye and the boys acknowledged everyone. They bowed, grinned and waved, and then, placing their instruments to one side, left the stage and headed toward the bar. The crowd gathered round, hugging them, slapping their backs, handing them drinks. Tye made her way over to Rhi and Annie. Rhi noticed a small tattoo of a pentagram poking over the top of her cargo pants.
Annie threw her arms around Tye and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. “You rocked, darling.”
Tye laughed and gave Rhi a grin. “What did you think?”
“I didn’t think. I felt. You are incredibly talented, Tye.”
Tye nodded and thrust her hands in her pockets. Praise obviously made her squirm, even though she knew she was talented. “We all have our gifts, Rhi.”
Rhi glanced at Tye’s pentagram and then back up at her face. A look passed between them, an unspoken understanding. Rhi broke the gaze first. She couldn’t escape what she’d been born in to.
Annie thrust a wine at Tye. “You have some catching up to do.”
Rhi watched Tad as he talked to a couple of women. He shifted, as though aware he was being watched, and turned his gaze toward Rhi. Their eyes locked and she felt a crack, like the space between them was charged. She turned her head and pretended to be interested in a game of darts.
The guy was leg-meltingly good looking. He was obviously talented, and judging by the gaggle of panting women who now surrounded him, he was highly sought after. Three excellent reasons to stay away from him.
“Hi…have we met?”
The color sprang back into Rhi’s cheeks again as Tad stepped in front of her. Perched on her stool she had a perfect view of his insanely well-built chest.
Once again, she was rendered speechless. What did he mean?
“Er…yes…we…” And the award for most highly articulate goes to…?
Annie, used to her cousin’s effect on women, came to Rhi’s rescue. “You know Rhi—she’s your new tenant.”
Tad raised his eyebrows. “Of course.”
Rhi was completely confused. Was he messing with her? Was he pretending they hadn’t met for Annie’s benefit?
“Don’t worry,” Rhi said. “I almost didn’t recognize you either. Your hair is different.” He’d decided to go for the let-it-fall-all-over-your-face look tonight. It suited him. Unfortunately.
Tad narrowed his eyes slightly, as though he was trying to work her out. Rhi matched his stare. She searched for recognition, but there was none. He wasn’t pretending he hadn’t met her—he actually thought he hadn’t. The guy was either completely self-centered, an alcoholic or had the IQ of a plank of wood. Rhi decided he was all three and gave him a forced smile.
“Thanks again for agreeing to rent it to me.”
“I got the feeling you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Nice to put a face to the name though.”
Annie snuggled up under Tad’s armpit and pouted at him like a small child. “Can you drop us home tonight? I’ve been hitting the vino all night and am too drunk to drive.”
Tad ruffled her hair. “Sure, I’ll just go grab my things.”
After he walked off, Annie settled back up on her stool. “Local law number one, Rhi, Tad can always be relied upon for a lift home. He doesn’t drink.”
Rhi mentally crossed out “alcoholic” and inserted “drug user” in its place.
Chapter 13
Rhi sat in the front passenger seat of Tad’s car and watched with amusement as Annie tripped up the steps as she gave them a wave goodnight.
“I’m okay,” she called, opening her front door and disappearing inside.
“Do women always trip in front of you?” asked Rhi, remembering her own fall.
Tad obviously didn’t follow her. “What do you mean?”
“When I fell head over ass?”
He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Tonight? Did you? Oh no, I missed that.”
She gave him a look that pretty much said asshole and then turned and stared out the window.
“You’re at Annie’s place near the beach, right?”
“The Callahan cottage.”
Tad put the car in drive and headed back down the street. “I hope witches don’t scare you?”
Only my mother. “Why would they?”
“The original owner, Ishbel Callahan was a witch.” He whispered the word “witch” like one would “murderer” or “One Direction fan.”
“Do you believe in that stuff?” Rhi asked.
“I know some witches. Good people. A bit mad.” He smiled at her and Rhi was once again floored by his looks. “I don’t mean to scare you, just when you’ve moved in.”
“You’re not. I feel at home there.” And now I know why.
“Ishbel used to dance naked under each full moon, rain hail or shine, right up to the night she died at ninety-eight.”
“Was that under a full moon?”
“Was what under a full moon?”
“Did she die naked, dancing under the moon? Wonderful way to go.”
“Er…no…” Tad scratched his chin. “She passed away in bed after a particularly intense lovemaking session with her seventy-five-year-old neighbor.”
“Not Douglas McNeil?”
Tad shot her an amused grin. “So the story goes.”
Rhi chuckled. “She sounds like she was quite a character. Did you know her?”
“I apparently met her a couple of times, but can’t remember her.”
Rhi’s smile faded. “Do you do that a lot? Forget people you’ve met?”
“How would I know if I can’t remember them?” Tad clearly thought he was being funny, but when he saw the look on Rhi’s face, he turned his full attention back to the road.
They fell into a self-conscious silence. Rhi really had nothing to say to him. He didn’t remember her, and she wasn’t going to bother reminding him. He didn’t remember Ishbel either. There was something a bit wrong with him. He wasn’t worth her time. Case closed.
If only he didn’t smell so fantastic. She had the overwhelming urge to slide across to his seat and nuzzle his neck. Rhi breathed deeply.
Tad took one of his hands off the steering wheel and pushed his hair back off his face. Rhi noticed the shape of his fingers—long, strong—and wondered what it would be like to have them running through her hair.
Goddess, how much longer till I’m home?
She watched him from the corner of her eye. He seemed different, calmer, than when they’d met at the theater. There he was a little intense. Perhaps he did secretly drink, and it was during those sessions that he went to the theater. It would explain why he didn’t remember her. And why he seemed to have more bravado during those meetings.
She had to ask. “Is it true you don’t drink?”
“I’m not a teetotaler.”
Ha! She knew it.
“I’ll have the occasional wine at a wedding or something.”
Or when you visit your theater, thought Rhi.
The silence shifted toward uncomfortable.
“So, do you like Hamlet?”
His voice was deep and calming. She wanted to like him, but her pride was hurting too much.
“So far, yes.”
Pause.
“Did you like O’Reilly’s tonight?”
“Yes, very much.”
“Looks like we
might get some rain.”
She had to give him ten points for at least trying to converse, despite the inane territory they were now covering.
“Looks like.”
Highly awkward silence. Tad pulled the car into Rhi’s driveway.
“Have I offended you?” Tad asked.
“Why would you think that?”
“You seem to be angry at me.” He grinned, teasing her. “Or perhaps you’re angry with everyone?”
Rhi opened the door. “I have a huge problem with people forgetting that they’ve ever met me before. Call it egotistical, but I like to think I’m not completely forgettable. Thanks for the lift.” Rhi got out of the car and slammed the door shut. She was acutely aware of him waiting until she got inside the house and refused to look back until she closed the door behind her. That is what peepholes are for. And that’s where she stood and watched his car back out of her driveway and disappear.
*
Tad headed for home. His mind ticked over while he tried to remember where he’d met her before; obviously he had, or she wouldn’t be so furious.
He came up blank.
Perhaps it was while he was living in New York. God knows there’d been a few women whose names and faces he’d never remember. Never knew at the time. There were a rough couple of years before his old friend Crystal intervened and suggested he come back to Hamlet for a while. To clear his head, she’d said.
He’d initially come for a week, which was the amount of time he’d spent in Hamlet each holidays with Crystal and Tye. He could handle a week, but always thought actually living in the same town as the theatre would haunt him as much as his father’s death always had. Instead, he’d found solace. He reconnected with Annie. He played music with Tye. He eventually bought himself a place on the edge of town, where he locked himself away to write music. Then, when he emerged, he had his circle of friends and family. He’d built Hamlet up in his mind as a place of shadows, but instead, it was where he let the light back in. He loved it now. Apart from the theater, which he steered clear of. Renting it out to Rhi was really digging up the past. His problem was he found it impossible to say no to either Annie or Tye. And when they’d ambushed him together one day, he’d crumbled.