Resonance (A Golden Beach Novel)

by Kim Loraine

  He tried to hand Angela her half of the cover charge but she pushed it back. “Nope, consider this a donation toward a new stage. That thing is falling apart and if you expect us to play here regularly it needs to be able to handle us.”

  Parker grinned from behind Hank’s shoulder as he packed away his gear.

  “You guys don’t have to do that.”

  “Hank, you’ve been there for us since we were kids. Of course we do.” Garrett’s hand slipped around Angela’s waist as he spoke, his fingers gripping her hip and sneaking under the hem of her shirt to make contact with her skin. A shiver of lust raced through her at his touch and she had to slow her breathing to control her pounding heart.

  Hank left with tears in his eyes. He’d just pocketed more money than the store made in a week and Angela knew he’d put it to good use.

  “I’m so glad you guys worked everything out.” Valerie wiggled out of Donovan’s arms and wrapped her sister in a fierce embrace.

  “Me, too. Thanks for telling me I was being an idiot.”

  Her sister cocked one hip and raised an eyebrow. “It’s my job.”

  “Mine, too. Stop being an idiot and set a date for your wedding.”

  Valerie blushed and Donovan paled. Angela had to fight the laugh that bubbled up.

  “You told her about that?” Valerie shot Donovan a withering look.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. I needed to talk to someone who wouldn’t bust my balls about it. I doubt Klip or Sully would’ve been willing to listen to me.”

  Donovan turned his focus to Garrett. “How’s your brother doing?”

  “His burns are healing, but he’s still hurting. Doctors think he’ll have some nerve damage, but it could’ve been a lot worse.”

  “Did they ever figure out the cause of the fire?” Angela asked.

  “They suspect it was intentionally set. Arson investigation is ongoing actually. It seems there’s a pattern that was missed until now going all the way back to the fire we lost John in.”

  John’s name sent a wave of sadness over her. He’d been her first crush, an older man, and Grace’s long-time love.

  “Jesus. Is Michael doing all right? That’s pretty heavy news.” She wondered if John’s brother was here tonight and scanned the crowd for him.

  “He’s toughing it out, but I think it’s affecting him more than he’s willing to admit.” Donovan raked a hand through his dark hair and rolled his eyes. “Christ, why do I always spill my guts to you, Angie?”

  “Because you love me.”

  Val leaned into him and rested her head on his chest. “We all love you, Angie.”

  “Uh, guys? I’d really like to not have to pack the entire stage up by myself. No contract, no roadies,” Parker called as he hefted an amp off stage.

  “Technically we have a contract. Just not with a big label.”

  Valerie raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

  Garrett chuckled at the concern in Valerie’s tone. “Aiden started his own label. We’re the first clients, aside from Violet Hour. There’s not much money right now, but at least we’re free to be ourselves.”

  “That’s fucking awesome. Good for you guys.” Donovan pulled Valerie closer to him and nuzzled her ear. “I’m gonna go help Parker load up.”

  Garrett squeezed her hip again when she moved toward the stage. “No, you stay and talk with your sister.” He murmured under his breath to her, “I need you uninjured and energized when I get you home.”

  A rush of arousal ran through her and she could feel her cheeks heat.

  “Yuck,” Valerie groaned.

  “Hey, no worse than having to watch you two fall in love for a freaking year.”

  “I’ll give you that one. Go on. Have fun, be in love. Be happy.”

  Her sister hugged her one more time before heading back to the crowd.

  As she turned to look at the deconstructed stage, Angela smiled to herself. No matter what had happened in the past, she was where she was meant to be now.

  Epilogue

  New Year’s Eve. This time last year, they’d been about to go on tour. This time last year, they’d broken their pact and headed down a path of heartbreak and disappointment. But now? Now, Garrett sat on the couch, waiting for the love of his life to come to him. His heart still ached with longing when he thought of her, still raced when she touched him or said his name.

  He stood when the door opened and she came into the room. Her golden hair framing her heart-shaped face. She looked a little shell-shocked and anticipation tightened his gut.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She held up the stick that contained news of their future. “Positive,” she whispered, tears falling from her eyes.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really? You think I’d make this up?”

  He cast her a dubious glance.

  “Shut up.”

  “We’re going to have a baby.” He tried the words out, experimented with how they felt on his tongue.

  “We are. Holy shit. We are.”

  She paled and sat next to him placing the test on the coffee table. He smoothed her hair away from her face and pulled her in for a kiss, trying to show her how he felt, how insanely happy he was. “I love you.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  “Good tears or bad tears?”

  “Good. So, so good.”

  He kissed her on the forehead and stood up, walking over to his desk where he pulled open a drawer.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I was planning on doing this at midnight, but now seems more appropriate.”

  Her eyes went wide as he dropped to one knee in front of her and held out a black velvet-covered box. “Angela Peters, I’ve loved you since I was twelve years old. I’ve known you were it for me since then, too. It took us a damn long time to realize it, but we belong together. Marry me? Give me you for the rest of our lives?”

  She laughed as he referenced the song they’d written together so long ago. Their first number one hit, the song that was nominated for a Grammy for Song of the Year.

  “Yes, you already have me, but if we need to make it official then, yes.”

  “Soon? Do you want a big wedding?”

  She placed a hand over her belly and smiled. “I want you. Court house, back yard, church. I don’t care. I want to be married to you as soon as I can.”

  He couldn’t contain his grin as he opened the box to hand her the ring. She gasped in surprise when she saw it wasn’t a typical diamond solitaire, but a dark sapphire nestled into a braided platinum band.

  “I had it modeled from the bracelet you made me when we were kids. It’s the same pattern.”

  He watched her fight back the tears as he slid it on her finger.

  “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

  As midnight approached, they snuggled up together on the couch watching the ball drop on TV rather than partying. He wanted to keep her all to himself for the last seconds of this year, wanted their moment to be unspoiled by the rest of the world.

  “Oh, we don’t have any champagne,” she said, stirring in his arms as the countdown started.

  Ten . . .

  He pulled her close. “None for you.”

  Nine . . .

  She laced her fingers in his.

  Eight . . .

  He dropped his hand to cover her belly and felt a swell of pride that she was his and they were going to have a family.

  Seven . . .

  She pulled his face to hers.

  Six . . .

  He whispered, “No need for champagne and whisky tonight.”

  Five . . .

&
nbsp; She straddled his hips.

  Four . . .

  He pressed his forehead to her and ghosted his lips over hers.

  Three . . .

  “Garrett?”

  Two . . .

  She murmured, “It was always you,” before pressing her mouth to his in a passionate kiss.

  One . . .

  As the ball dropped and the sound of fireworks and cheering from the beach came in through their open window, he held her tight, not willing to let her go as they ushered in a new year and the start of their new life together.

  “Always,” he agreed.

  Sneak Peek of Redemption:

  Book #4 in the Golden Beach Series

  Michael Oliver groaned as yet another emergency call catapulted him from the edge of sleep.

  “Engine 31, Rescue 31,” the voice blared over the loudspeaker at the firehouse.

  Michael pushed out of his bunk. Another call. This made four in one shift and they were only twelve hours into their full twenty-four. He raced to his waiting bunker gear and suited up as the rest of the crew joined him.

  “Another one?” Tommy Klipper shook his head in disbelief.

  “Looks like it. Been a busy Fourth of July.”

  “It’s always busy on the Fourth.”

  “Damn idiots and their constant need to light shit on fire.”

  Michael pulled himself into the cab of the engine and offered a sarcastic, “Really?”

  Klipper put the rig in gear and switched on the lights and siren as he eased the massive fire truck into the street.

  “What? I’m allowed to play with fire. I’ve got a title that makes it okay.”

  Michael stifled his chuckle and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Another potential fireworks related casualty. They’d already responded to two brush fires set by unwitting kids whose bottle rockets went haywire and seen one kid with severe burns to his hand because he’d thought it would be awesome to hold his roman candle instead of plant it in the sand.

  “Think we’ll break the record tonight?”

  “Ten?” Michael shook his head. “I hope to hell not.”

  Two hours later, after washing the grime off his face, he landed back on his bunk, willing himself to sleep. He dreamed of dark, almond shaped eyes and long espresso colored hair, flawless coppery skin and lush, pillow lips. He dreamed of Lena—his wife. He hadn’t seen her in nearly three months and his body ached to be with her.

  By the time he woke, he had less than two hours left in his shift. He stretched and yawned, working through the aches in his shoulders before heading into the kitchen for some coffee. Klipper sat at the table spreading cream cheese on an onion bagel. He looked more refreshed than Michael had seen in a long time.

  “Guess we didn’t break any records,” Michael muttered.

  “Thank the sweet baby Jesus. I slept better than I have in weeks.”

  As he poured a heavy dose of cream in his coffee, Michael eyed Klipper. “You been doing all right?”

  Klipper shook his head. “I’m fine. Just some stupid shit with the ex-wife. She wants to sell the house, I want to keep it.”

  “I thought the house was hers.”

  “We split everything fifty-fifty. She owns half of the house, I get the other half. I can’t buy her out, but I built most of that place myself. I don’t want to see it going to some yuppie assholes who’ll gut it and try to make a profit.”

  “Shit, man. I didn’t know it was like that. Sorry.”

  Klipper shrugged. “It is what it is. We’ll figure it out.” He took a bite of his bagel and chewed for a moment before his eyes brightened. “So, when’s Lena getting back this time? She bringing you anything special from Thailand? Maybe some pirated copies of crazy Thai porn? I hear it’s out of control.”

  Michael bypassed Klip’s questions, not wanting to admit that Lena might not come back at all this time. All he knew was, he wasn’t going to let her go.

  “I’m going to hit the weight room before shift’s up.”

  Klip nodded and kept silent. Wise move.

  As he moved on the rowing machine, breaths heavy and measured, he tried to keep his mind off his strained relationship with Lena. Just the thought of her made his chest tight.

  He stopped when he caught sight of Sheriff Kelli Franklin’s reflection in the mirrored wall. Her expression was grim and laced with pity. Fear lanced his heart. He knew that look. It was the look of someone about to deal a crushing blow.

  “What is it, Kelli?”

  She shook her head and handed him a large manila envelope. “I’m sorry, Michael. You’ve been served.”

  Before he could ask her what the fuck was happening, she turned and left the room.

  He tore open the letter and pulled out the paper.

  His stomach turned to stone as he read the words:

  PETITION FOR DIVORCE.