Sam sauntered up to her and threaded his fingers with hers. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “You’re invited.”
He heard her swift intake of breath. “Okay,” she said.
“In fact, why don’t we go back there now?”
“Sam,” she said, warning coloring her voice. “I thought we said we would take things slow?”
“Why don’t we go back there so I can take a look at your website,” he finished.
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes crinkling at the corners with her embarrassed smile. “Oh. Okay.”
God, she was adorable. Her website was the last thing on his mind right now, but rushing into something their new, tenuous friendship wasn’t ready to handle could prove disastrous. He would take things slow. It might kill him, but it was the smart thing to do.
An hour later they were sitting on the floor of his living room, a pizza delivery box between them.
“You sure you’re okay with soda?” Sam asked, gesturing to her glass. “I could probably bum a glass of wine or a beer off of my neighbor.”
“No, I’m good,” Aubrey said. “I’m just surprised that you don’t have anything stronger than soda.”
He lifted a slice of pizza, set it on a paper plate, and handed it to her. “Yeah, well, I…uh…got into a bit of trouble with alcohol last year. I needed to rein it in.”
She stopped midbite, her eyes wide as she stared at him. She chewed and swallowed before asking, “What kind of trouble?”
This topic was at the very end of the list of things Sam ever wanted to talk about. Owning up to how he’d allowed alcohol to get the best of him wasn’t easy, but talking about it also kept him humble. It reminded him that he never wanted to find himself in that place again.
“Once my dad got sick, I had a hard time dealing with what the illness did to him. He was always so active. It wasn’t easy to see his body get weaker and weaker. I hated that there was nothing that could be done about it.” He dropped his head back as he slouched against the sofa’s edge. “Alcohol made it easier for me to cope with what was happening.”
Aubrey reached over and covered his arm. “Sam, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. Charlie really was one of the best human beings I’d ever met. He would do anything for anybody.” Her voice was somber when she said, “Knowing how much he must have hated me when that video came out was always a hard thing to stomach.”
“My dad never hated you, Aubrey. In fact, both he and my mom told me I was being too hard on you. They both pointed out that I was the one who broke up with you first. I don’t think my mom ever forgave me for that, by the way.” Sam sucked in a deep breath. “Anyway, as the ALS progressed, so did my drinking. Ian and Dale stepped in, but even they don’t realize just how bad it had become. It’s a good thing the database project I worked on last year was something I could do in my sleep, because I was completely hammered most of the day.”
“Sam.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper.
“I’m better,” he said. “I haven’t had a drink in over six months. Not even a drop. I’m learning that it’s healthier to work my way through whatever is causing me pain than to try to dull it away with a bottle of Jack.” He looked over at her. “I can’t lie, when you first came back to town, I was tempted to get a drink.”
“Tell me you didn’t,” she said.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Thank goodness.” Her relieved sigh was genuine. “I would hate to be the cause of you drinking again. I’ve seen so many lives ruined because of drugs and alcohol.” Her shoulders lifted in a halfhearted shrug. “It’s an unfortunate part of the music business. You should be proud of yourself for fighting your way back from that.” She squeezed his hand. “It may not mean much, but I’m proud of you.”
He returned her squeeze. “It means more than you know.” He stared into her eyes. “I still can’t believe we’re here. That you’re actually in my house, and we’re talking like…well, like we used to. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would be glad to have you back in Maplesville, I probably would have run them over with my truck.”
A shocked laugh escaped her mouth. “Wow, that bad, huh?”
He nodded. “It was that bad.” He brushed his finger over her cheekbone. “But this past week has reminded me how much better Maplesville is when you’re in it.”
Her eyes instantly sparkled with affection. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve said to me in ten years.”
“It’s the truth. It’s going to be hard to see you leave.”
She smoothed both hands over her head, drawing her hair back into a ponytail before releasing it, allowing it to fall down her back again.
“Well, you probably won’t have to worry about that for a while,” she said.
Sam looked over at her, his brow arched.
“Believe me, I’m as surprised by that as you are,” she said. “I thought I would be climbing the walls, clamoring to leave, but it hasn’t been that way.”
“But what about your career? You can’t really be a world-renowned pop star living in Maplesville.”
“I no longer want to be a world-renowned pop star,” she said.
Sam was pretty sure his eyebrows met his hairline. “Since when?”
“For a while now,” she said with another shrug. “Okay, I’d probably give it some thought if a big-time record deal came my way, but honestly, Sam, I’m not all that sure that I would take it. Six or seven years ago? Yeah, I would have jumped at the opportunity, but I’ve seen too much. I know what that life is like, and I don’t want that anymore.”
Sam turned toward her. “So what do you want, Aubrey?”
“I like being a voice coach,” she said. “The work I’m doing with the kids down at the community theater is so rewarding. I’m going to miss it once the show is done.”
“Taylor sometimes works with the Theater of Performing Arts over in Jefferson Parish. Maybe you two can team up again.”
Aubrey barely managed to contain her grimace. It would be nice to work with Taylor on another project, but Aubrey wasn’t so sure the other woman would be interested. Taylor’s attitude toward her wasn’t as warm as it had once been.
“Was singing not as fulfilling as coaching for you?” Sam asked.
“It’s just a different feeling,” Aubrey said. “It’s hard to describe it. Like when Zena made it through the first round of that competition, it was like watching my child graduate from high school. I had so much pride I thought my chest would burst. And you know why? Because I helped to make it happen. When she came to me, she was so raw. She had no control in her voice, no stage presence. But I coached her, and I helped her to become the kind of singer who could get millions of Americans to log on to their computers and cast votes for her. I’m proud of that.”
“You should be.”
“The best thing about it? I can go out to dinner without worrying about a picture of me with spinach in my teeth showing up on every celebrity website, or, God forbid, that video coming to light. Once you make a name for yourself, people start digging for dirt so that they can bring you down.”
“Is the video still out there?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Every few months I do a search and send take down notices to the websites where it pops up. It will never go away. It’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. But there’s a big difference between it being one of thousands of videos on some obscure porn site and being a trending topic on Twitter. If I were to ever hit it big, I can promise that would happen.”
It completely gutted Sam to think about how much she’d suffered because of that video. He’d always considered himself to be the victim in what went down ten years ago, but compared to what Aubrey faced—what she still could potentially face—because of that video… Well, there were no comparisons.
Sam rubbed the back of her hand, his fingers skimming along her skin. “How do you not hate me?” he asked.
&
nbsp; Her brows spiked. “For what?
“The video.” His gaze locked with hers. “I realize now just how much of it was my fault. If I hadn’t broken up with you, or given you that ultimatum, you never would have met up with that guy at that party.”
“Don’t do that, Sam.” Aubrey covered his jaw with her warm palm. “I’m not laying blame at anyone’s feet.”
“Maybe you should,” he said. “Sure, I was humiliated for a while after it came out, but people eventually forgot about it. That video will always be out there. You’ll always have the threat of it lurking in the background.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that,” she said. “No. Actually, there is something I can do. I can not let it define who I am. That’s a decision I made years ago.”
“I owe you an apology, Aubrey. Not just for my part in what happened all those years ago, but for making you out to be the guilty party all this time. I need to finally take responsibility for the part I played in this.”
“I accept your apology,” she said.
“Just like that?” he asked, his head jerking back in surprise.
A small smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Just like that.”
He leaned over, his face drawing closer to hers. “Dale was right. I really am one lucky son of a bitch.”
He hesitated for the barest moment before closing in and connecting their mouths in a slow, sensuous kiss. He gently brushed his lips against hers, then glided his tongue along the seam of her lips and pushed his way inside. She tasted like pizza and heaven and spearmint, a combination of flavors that harkened him back to the endless kisses they once shared.
But this was so much more than a kiss. It was a sweet remembrance—an ode to the love that once beat between them like a living, breathing thing—and the promise of what could be. Aubrey’s soft whimpers and his deep moans joined in a melody that captured the very essence of the love that, to this day, could never be denied.
Pushing the pizza box aside, Sam grasped her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled his thighs, her hot center hitting him right where he wanted it. His gut tightened. It had been so long since he’d felt anything even close to this. He tucked his fingers inside the waistband of her shorts, inching downward until he encountered that spot that used to drive her wild. He pressed against her, feeling her satin panties moisten against his fingers.
Aubrey’s head went back as she thrust her pelvis toward him. “Oh, God,” she gasped.
Sam dove for her chest, nipping at her flesh, sucking on her nipple through the fabric of her thin tank top. He swept his free hand under the hem of the shirt and up her back, caressing her silky skin. He did his best to ignore the erection growing harder with every second that passed. He didn’t want to rush this.
When she saw him struggling to get the tank top over her head with one hand, Aubrey took over, pulling the shirt off to reveal a sheer navy blue bra. Her dark brown nipples pressed up against the fabric, just begging for his attention.
Sam granted it with pleasure. He laved at her nipples through the flimsy material, sucking them, soaking them with his tongue. Her little whimpers of desperation flowed down his spine like warm honey, compelling him to do whatever he could to make her lose her mind.
Sam unbuckled her shorts and started to tug them down her hips when Aubrey’s hands captured his.
“Wait. Sam, no.”
Disappointment crashed into him.
“What?” he asked through labored breaths.
“This is too…too fast,” she said. She climbed off his lap and the ache in his groin grew to mind-altering levels. He wanted her heat pressed up against him.
“I want to,” Aubrey said. “But it’s too soon. We can’t go from you hating me to sex in the span of one week.”
“We can try,” he said.
An unsteady laugh escaped her throat. “It’s asking for trouble, Sam.” She picked up her tank top and pulled it over her head.
He might have cried just a little on the inside.
“It’s getting late.” Aubrey gestured to his forgotten laptop. “We didn’t really get much done on the website, but it’s not as if it’s urgent. How about I come back next week and we can work on it?”
“How about you come back tomorrow?”
She released a tired laugh. “I still won’t be ready for sex, Sam.”
He leaned toward her and brushed his lips against hers. “That’s not the only reason I want you here,” he said.
He wanted her. He would probably sprain his wrists tonight while fantasizing about how much he wanted her. But his desire for Aubrey had always gone far beyond just getting into her pants. Now that he had her back in his life, he wanted her here as much as possible. He wanted to make up for the ten years they’d lost.
Sam brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Thanks for furniture shopping with me today.”
“Thanks for inviting me,” she said. She graced him with the gentlest, sweetest kiss before grabbing her things. He walked her to her sister’s car, still reluctant to say goodbye. Not just tonight, but for a long time to come.
Aubrey was back in his life again. His Aubrey. The girl he’d loved more than anything in this world.
They’d been given a second chance. A new start. After the past pain they’d endured, they both deserved to see where this new relationship might lead.
Chapter 6
Aubrey took another sip of the red, white, and blue-layered frozen drink—her second one of the day—while she watched the surprisingly competitive volleyball game currently taking place in Ian Landry’s backyard. She began this Fourth of July outside the courthouse in downtown Maplesville, singing God Bless America at the dedication ceremony for a new flagpole. Deanna, who worked with the city council, was on the committee to restore the flagpole that had been destroyed by a hurricane a few years ago.
If anyone but her sister had asked her to sing, Aubrey would have said no. Thank goodness she felt too indebted to Deanna to deny her anything, because the reception she’d received from the folks out there this morning had been amazing.
She’d stayed away from Maplesville for so long because she didn’t want to face the ridicule and scorn she was so sure would be heaped upon her. But no one brought up the video. All anyone wanted to talk about were the various artists she’d worked with over the years, Zena’s rise to stardom on America Can Sing, or the few times Aubrey herself had been on television.
When Sam invited her to join him at Ian’s Fourth of July picnic, Aubrey had had to fight off yet another spark of apprehension. She was nervous about meeting both Ian and Dale’s significant others. Being such close friends, Sam had undoubtedly shared everything with Ian and Dale, which meant they’d probably talked about her with their girlfriends.
Aubrey had expected judgment. She’d been proven wrong yet again.
Ian’s wife, Sonny, had immediately welcomed her with a warm smile and a Fourth of July mini-trifle, made with strawberries, blueberries, and coconut cream. Aubrey immediately decided that she and the professional baker should be BFFs.
She learned that Dale’s girlfriend grew up in St. Pierre, which was just down the road from here. Nyree Grant was a few years behind them in school, so Aubrey didn’t really remember her. She’d stood there awkwardly as Nyree and her three girlfriends, Reesa, Amara, and Cheyenne regaled her with stories about how they were all enamored with her when Aubrey would win all the community talent shows back in the day.
It had been weird, but…well…nice. She’d never reached the level of fame she’d hope for in Hollywood, but Aubrey had discovered today that she was a star in the eyes of many of the people in her hometown.
She moved her chair so she could enjoy the maximum shade provided by the patio umbrella. She then nearly fell out of her chair, laughing as Sam dove for the volleyball and ended up flat on his belly.
“You guys suck,” he said to his fellow teammates as he dusted grass off the front of his clothes.
The match had started out as a good-natured men versus women game, but it became apparent early on that the women meant business. When it was revealed that Amara had played volleyball at the college level and even tried out for the U.S. Olympic team, it was on. The score was currently tied six all, with Sonny lining up to serve out the match.
“Are you sure you should be playing in your condition?” Ian called to his wife.
“Don’t try to distract me with the old pregnancy tactic. Take your whipping like a man,” Sonny said.
The smile Ian flashed his wife said more about how in love he was than any words he could have said.
Sonny tossed the ball up and sent it sailing over the net. Nyree’s brother, Desmond, who Aubrey remembered from back when he played high school football for St. Pierre, set the ball up for Dale, who struck it, sending it straight into the net.
The women broke out into cheers while nothing but groans could be heard coming from the men’s side of the net.
“What kind of set up was that?” Dale barked at Desmond.
“It was a perfect set up. Learn how to spike the damn ball,” Desmond barked back.
Aubrey eyed them both with caution. They looked as if they were ready to come to blows.
Nyree came over to the table with the bottle of beer she’d just grabbed from the ice chest. “Don’t worry about those two,” she said, settling into the chair next to Aubrey’s. “I’ve been trying to get them to play nice, but so far it isn’t working.”
“I remember their rivalry back when they played football against each other in high school,” Aubrey said. “Good luck trying to get those two to like each other.”
Amara, who Aubrey learned was the makeup artist at the Any Way You Want It Salon and Spa, joined them at the table.
“So, what kind of celebrity gossip can you share?” she asked.
“Yeah? I know some of those marriages have to be publicity stunts,” Nyree said. “I have my suspicions about a few couples.”
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