“Brody’s right.” Tori came back in and shut the door to the office, laying the folder she’d retrieved on her desk. “You should settle it or you’ll end up a grumpy old man like Wyatt.”
“Again, I’m in the room,” Wyatt grumbled.
“Oh, like you care what we say about you, Wyatt,” Tori said as she took her seat and opened the folder. “You ignore us all anyway like you’ve been doing for the past two years. Go back to brooding. I’ll pick on you another day.”
Wyatt had no comment.
Maybe Ethan needed to try the silent approach in the future, because arguing with them was getting him nowhere. There was no business to finish with Riley.
* * *
“So they want to interview Ethan.”
Riley’s head shot up from the page where she’d been jotting down notes for a song and gaped at Joann.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“He’s part of your past, Riley. A big part. You’ve written like twenty-five songs about him.”
“And no one knows that but you and Suzie and the band, and you’re all sworn to secrecy. You promised.”
How had they found out about Ethan?
“The producers don’t know about the connection between Ethan and the songs. They just know he was your teenage boyfriend, which makes him a part of your past, a part they feel should be explored.”
“No. We talked about this. No Ethan.” She’d made it clear Amanda wouldn’t be interviewed, either, but of course that would never happen now. “I don’t want him or Zoey involved in this.”
Jo took a seat in the living room across from the roaring fire. The temperature had dropped and the skies were an ugly gray outside. Riley snuggled up in her sweats, Henley shirt and thick socks in front of the fire, intent on sipping hot cocoa and working on the song she’d started on the bus ride here. She’d spent part of the day lost in her music, happy to be alone and away from the production of the biography. When she wrote she could shut out everything, including what had almost happened between her and Ethan last night.
Except her songwriting had drifted into thoughts of first love and first kisses, and that’s not at all where she’d intended to go.
Instead, her idyllic moments of peace had been shattered by this. No way was she going to allow it.
“The thing is, Rye, Ethan has agreed to it.”
She laid her guitar to the side, letting it rest against the chair. “What?”
“They called him this afternoon and he agreed to the interview tomorrow as long as they promised to keep his daughter out of it, not mention her and make sure she stays off camera.”
“Oh, no. That’s not going to work at all.” She stood. “He absolutely cannot do the interview.”
Jo nodded. “I’ll get a staff member to contact the biographer, and then Ethan.”
“No. I don’t want this staffed out. I need to talk to Ethan myself.” She went into the kitchen and looked around. “Surely there has to be a phone book around here somewhere.”
One of her staff members grabbed it from the counter and handed it to her.
“Thanks.”
She flipped through the book and found Ethan’s name, dug in her purse for her cell and dialed Ethan’s home phone number.
“No answer.” Damn. “I’ll try his parents. They might know how I can reach him.”
She dialed his parents’ number, and his mother picked up. It had been years since she’d spoken to Mrs. Kent. A lump the size of her tour bus lodged in her throat.
“Mrs. Kent?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Riley Jensen.”
She waited for silence, for condemnation, for something other than the enthusiastic response she got.
“Riley, honey! I’m so glad to hear from you. Why haven’t you been by to see us yet? I’m so sorry we didn’t make it to greet you when you arrived the other day, but Roger’s knee is bad and I knew Ethan would be dropping Zoey off. And look at me talking your ear off and you haven’t had a chance to say a word yet.”
Riley breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s so wonderful to hear your voice, Mrs. Kent.”
“Please, call me Stacy. You’re a big girl now.”
“Thank you, Stacy. I was wondering if you knew where Ethan was. It’s kind of important I talk to him.”
“He’s over here tonight. Everyone came over for dinner and game night. Why don’t you swing by? I know everyone would love to see you.”
Oh, right. She’d just bet his brothers would “love” to see her. “Oh, I don’t know about that. If I could just talk to Ethan…”
“Well, he’s in the middle of a rather rousing game of Yahtzee at the moment, so you’d better come on over. Though I realize you’re a big and important star and probably busy doing something, so I understand if you can’t.”
It hadn’t been said with malice. Stacy Kent thought Riley’s dance card was full. Ha. “I’m not big and important, and I’ll be right over. Thank you for the invitation.”
“Great, honey. See you soon.”
She hung up and wondered why she’d agreed to step foot into the lion’s den.
* * *
As she stood outside Ethan’s parents’ house and stared up at the brightly blinking Christmas lights lining the roof as well as the smiling, waving mechanical Santa and snowman parked on the front lawn, Riley took a deep lungful of bitter cold air and wondered what she was doing here. She should have just asked Ethan’s mother to have him call her when he was free.
But it had been a long time since she’d seen his parents, and they’d always been so nice to her.
Still, his brothers were here and she’d just bet they weren’t members of her fan club.
Her knees knocked against each other and her heart slammed against her chest as she rang the doorbell.
One would think she’d never get nervous, but since she’d come back to Deer Lake, she’d had a ton of leg-shaking moments.
Ethan’s dad swung the door open. He’d changed a little in ten years, gotten a little grayer and a lot heavier, but his generous smile was still the same.
“Riley Jensen. Aren’t you just all grown up and more beautiful than ever? Come on in.”
“Thank you, Mr. Kent.”
He shut the door behind her, then took her coat. “Everyone’s in the family room. He limped next to her. “You have your choice of Yahtzee, Uno or Scrabble.”
She remembered family game night, a required weekly event she’d always loved, and a tradition that obviously still continued.
Family traditions. She’d never had them because she’d jumped around from family to family. That’s why she’d loved the Kents. They’d been her stability, her normalcy in a childhood that wasn’t.
The house hadn’t changed much. As she surveyed the Christmas tree and the decorations she remembered so well, she was struck with a pang of homesickness she hadn’t felt since the day she’d grabbed a bus out of town and hadn’t looked back.
The Kent home had been as much a home for her as it had been for Ethan. When she and Ethan had started dating her freshman year of high school, they’d been inseparable, which meant she’d spent much of her time at his house because she tended to bounce around here and there at foster homes. And even when she was stable, she didn’t want to burden her foster family with yet another kid.
The Kents had been like parents to her—kind, welcoming, treating her like their own daughter.
She’d loved them.
And like so many others in Deer Lake, she’d left them behind without explanation and without saying goodbye.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them until she saw the stuffed Christmas moose on the table in the foyer, or the strings of lighted garland winding up the stairs, or the smiling snowmen who decorated Stacy’s mantel. She heard the whistling of the train under the tree, remembering sitting in the living room and staring at that train for hours, marveling at the magic of a family holiday.
All of these were
part of her memories of Christmases past.
Not everything in the past hurt.
She’d had good memories too.
Fighting back tears, she put on a smile as Roger led her into the oversized family room.
“Guess who I found at the front door?”
Several pairs of eyes turned and the raucous noise in the room quieted down.
The guys all stood.
The Kent brothers had certainly all grown up. Between Ethan, Wyatt and Brody, the three of them were devastating in the looks department. All of them with thick dark hair, tall and well muscled. Wyatt had dangerous good looks and a firm jaw, Brody looked like one of those sexy calendar models, all lean and lethal, but it was Ethan who caught her eye the most. It was in his eyes, the way he looked at her when she entered the room. Maybe because she’d been in love with him for half her life.
Ethan came over to her.
“Riley. What are you doing here?”
“I called your house but you weren’t there so I called your mother. She asked me to come over.”
Stacy greeted her with a hug and held it for a minute. “More like demanded she come join us. So wonderful to see you again, Riley.”
The hug was so warm and welcoming, Riley never wanted to let go. “It’s nice to see you again, too.”
“Now, what would you like to drink? Hot chocolate?”
Riley nodded. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“Good. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go work your Scrabble words while you’re gone,” Roger said.
Stacy shot him a glare. “You even so much as peek anywhere near my side of the table and I’ll hobble your other leg.”
Roger narrowed his gaze. “You’re cutthroat, woman.” He turned and gave Riley a wink. “She thinks I cheat.”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Duh, Dad. You do cheat.”
Roger lifted his chin. “Do not. I just can’t spell good so your mother takes that advantage and uses it against me.”
“Are we going to play here or what?” Brody asked. “I’m ahead of you and Wyatt and I intend to kick your butts.”
“I need to talk to Riley.”
“Well make it fast. And hi, Riley. Nice to see you around here again. Try to visit more than once every ten years, will ya?”
“Thanks, Brody. Nice to see you again too. And I’ll try. And hi, Wyatt.”
“Uh huh.” Wyatt offered up a half-assed wave, then lifted a bottle of beer to his lips.
Ethan led her out of the room and into the formal living room. They took seats on the sofa. “Ignore Wyatt. He’s got a major chip on his shoulder. It’s not you, trust me. He treats everyone with the exact same amount of disdain.”
“Really? Why?”
“It’s his divorce a couple years ago. He’s still carrying a grudge and isn’t fond of women in general.”
“Oh. Ouch. I’m sorry.”
Ethan shrugged. “That’s his problem to deal with.”
“Where’s Zoey?”
“Spending the night at a friend’s house.”
“Oh. I’m sorry I missed her.”
He smiled. “She likes you too. And she had fun at the concert, even though she passed out at the end.”
Riley laughed. “It’s no problem. It was late. I’m glad she had a good time.”
She was stalling. She should tell him why she was here.
“Here’s your hot chocolate.” Stacy handed her a steaming mug, then hovered while Riley sipped.
She moaned. “It’s just how I remembered. Thick, with an overabundance of marshmallows. It’s wonderful.”
Stacy beamed. “I’m glad you like it.”
Ethan looked up at his mother. “Uh, Mom?”
“Oh. Oh, of course. If you’ll excuse me, I’d better go get back to Scrabble before Roger steals all my tiles.”
She left the room, and Riley turned to Ethan. “It’s about the interview you’re doing tomorrow.”
He frowned. “The one with the biography people?”
“Yes. Please don’t do it.”
“Why not?”
Did she have to spell it out? “You know why not. I can’t believe you even agreed to it. The history between us, what happened between you and Amanda. Do you really want all of that broadcast?”
He gave her the kind of indulgent smile he probably gave his daughter when she was overtired and acting out. “Do you really think I’m going to give them details? How dumb do you think I am, Riley? All they want to talk about is us dating in high school. I figure I’ll toss them a few crumbs and they’ll be on their way.”
“I’d like to keep that part of my life off limits.”
He laughed. “Right. It wasn’t off limits in your music, was it?”
Irritation skittered across her pulse, driving up her heartbeat. “No one knew it was you.”
“Wrong. Everyone knew it was me. Everyone who counted to me. Maybe none of the millions of your fans, but every single person in this town heard your lyrics and felt sorry for you and turned their eyes to Amanda and me. We couldn’t walk down the street together for a long time when your first album came out.”
She stood and stared down at him. “Is that why you agreed to the interview? You’re looking for a little payback?”
He stood, too. “What do you think I’m going to say to them, Riley? You were the victim in all of this. Nothing I say to them could paint you in a bad light. I did sleep with your best friend, and that’s why you couldn’t get out of Deer Lake fast enough. Hell, you’ll come out of it looking even better, so I don’t know why you’re worried. You should be pushing me to talk to the media. Think of all the new songs you’ll get out of this.”
A stab to her heart couldn’t have hurt more than his words did. “Is that what you think of me? After all we’ve been through, is that all you think of me? You believe that I’m back here to eke out some more heartache and song lyrics, Ethan, that I looked forward to reliving the nightmare of ten years ago so I could grab a few songs for my next album? After all, the well might be dry now so maybe you and I could relive old times, or maybe even drum up something new and painful and I could go platinum again. It’s all about using each other, isn’t it? Because that’s what you really think of me, isn’t it? That it’s all about the fame and the money.”
He didn’t answer, which was, she supposed, his answer.
She flicked her gaze to the doorway and there stood his mother, his father and his brothers.
Great. Did they all believe the same thing about her?
The walls seemed to close in on her. She couldn’t breathe.
She had to get out of here. Now.
Chapter Six
Riley did what she’d always done best. She ran.
She turned and escaped from the room, grabbed the door handle and fled out the front door, realizing as soon as she did that she’d forgotten her coat and that’s where she’d slipped the keys to the rental car.
No way was she going back inside that house. Instead, she sprinted past the car and down the street, not even noticing the temps outside until she slowed down to a brisk walk. She hadn’t even felt the tears streaming down her cheeks until she was struck by how cold her face was. Her sweater and jeans were no match for the frigid evening temperature, and once her flushed anger ebbed, she realized she was freezing.
She stopped, automatically shoved her hand into her jeans, then rolled her eyes. She’d slipped her cell phone in her coat pocket, too.
She had no one to blame for this fiasco but herself.
She’d acted like a child in there, tossing accusations and arguing with Ethan just like she had with him before she’d run out of town ten years ago. She had a right to be angry at Ethan. The things he’d said to her were unforgiveable. What she should have done was stand her ground and tell him exactly what she thought of him. But no. She’d had to play the victim and run out of the room all hurt.
The running part she was really good at.
&nbs
p; Old hurts and angers. Some things didn’t change, and some hurts could never be repaired. If she was smart, she’d turn around, go back to Ethan’s house and suck up the embarrassment, grab her coat and keys and drive home. It was over a mile walk back to the bed and breakfast and she was not dressed for that.
But dammit, he’d hurt her, and she would not go crawling back there. She had her pride and she refused to humiliate herself any further. It wasn’t like she was going to die in a mile. Uncomfortable, yes. Dead, no. She’d send someone over for the car and her coat tomorrow.
Shivering, it didn’t take a block and a half before her ears began to sting and she was certain her toes were going to end up with frostbite.
What was the temperature outside anyway?
Okay, maybe a mile in this cold was a little far.
When the first snowflakes started to fall, she laughed.
Perfect.
Dumb, Riley, really. Next time you decide to storm off in a huff, grab your coat first.
She saw headlights and wondered if it was someone she knew. She was so cold she’d offer up an autographed guitar to whoever drove her back to the bed and breakfast.
The car slowed and pulled to the curb. She stilled when the window rolled down.
It was Ethan.
“Riley, get in.”
She thought for all of a quarter of a second about telling him to stick it, but she wasn’t that stupid. She was freezing and she was certain she’d lost a few brain cells. She shuffled her frozen body to the car and slid inside.
Thankfully he had the heater blasting, and her coat was on the seat next to her. She pulled it over her. And then he scooted over toward her.
She shot him a look. “Wha…what are you doing?”
“Warming you.” He pulled her against him. “Are you out of your mind running out of the house without a coat? It’s five degrees outside.”
No wonder she thought she was going to die out there.
She wanted to argue with him, but he’d opened his coat and drew her against his chest and he was so damn warm all she could think about was the heat of his body. She was shivering uncontrollably now and couldn’t seem to stop her teeth from chattering.
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