by Nikki Duncan
“Oh, Josh. You spent almost all year on tour. Why would you let Byron pull you from your family at Christmas?”
“I feel as at home here as I do with my family. They’re the only two places I can walk down the street and not feel the need to hide my identity.” He shrugged. Ruth reminded him of his grandmother, but that didn’t mean he was ready to tell her Aimee was the biggest appeal in Whispering Cove. He wasn’t ready to tell anyone that. “Everyone greets me by name with a sincerity I don’t find very often.”
“I guess when you’re as popular as you are people would always be looking to get something from you.”
“Most.”
“And yet you allowed it from my husband?”
“Telling him no…” Uncertain of how to tell her how much the friends he’d found, including Byron, had come to mean to him, Josh settled on shaking his head. “I just didn’t have it in me.”
Ruth released a laugh that held humor, insight and warning all at once as they stepped into the living room. “Don’t let Byron hear you say that.”
“Don’t let Byron hear him say what?” Byron asked as he hung up the phone.
She’d spoken quietly enough that Josh would have sworn no one else would’ve heard. He should have known Byron would be sharper than that. “Oh, I was just telling Ruth how much you two remind me of my own grandparents, and how much I’m going to enjoy spending time with you.”
“Pfft.” Byron snorted. “You’re a poor liar, but I’ll let it pass since I was able to minimize the damage you did with your visit to the bar. Good thing Hauk had the lights down low and you haven’t shaved in a while. Now come sit and tell me what’s been happening on your tour.”
“Sit.” Ruth pointed to the chair by the phone and winked. “I’ll get you a drink. I believe you had a preference for Coors Light?”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
Settling in for a long visit, Josh’s gaze landed on the pen and pad by the phone. His fingers tingled with the desire to hug the pen. Lyrics moved over and through each other in a jumble as his mind sorted through them. Unwritten, accompanying notes played in the background as a ballad he’d never have expected to write came to life.
He would visit with Ruth and Byron, jot the lyrics down, and when they went to bed he would refine the song until it was perfect.
Byron wanted to surprise people at tomorrow’s concert. Josh wanted to surprise Aimee. Maybe they could both win.
Kendall’s cry rousted Aimee from her thoughts as she walked along the snow-covered, cobbled streets in the town square. Twinkle lights danced along window edges and holiday scenes from funny to touching had been painted within each lighted frame. Aimee’s favorite window, the only one not decorated, was the corner window of Sky’s glass shop. The glass displays with all their vibrant and muted colors were more than enough to bring the space to life. Even with the snow that promised to get much worse before Christmas morning, the place was perfection.
Like everyone else moving toward the square for the concert, Aimee and Kendall were bundled so heavily the cold only managed to touch their noses. It wasn’t the cold that had Kendall fussing, though. Hunger, sleep or a diaper in need of changing weren’t the culprits either.
It was simply stress that had Kendall wound up. All day, growing worse as the concert grew closer, Aimee’s anxiety had amped higher, and with it, Kendall’s fussiness increased until they were both so frazzled there was no calming either of them.
Aimee had considered leaving early enough to get a front row seat for the concert, especially after Josh had told her he was performing. Kendall seemed to prefer Josh’s songs to traditional lullabies when Aimee sang to her, so there was a chance hearing him sing would soothe Kendall.
Singing Josh’s songs in the privacy of their apartment allowed Aimee to be honest about Kendall’s father. Their fling had been one of the rare secrets kept in Whispering Cove and while she didn’t like secrets she wasn’t ready to reveal everything with the entire town out to bear witness. That cowardice—and not wanting Josh to see the truth about Kendall while onstage—was what had made her delay her arrival at the concert. It was why she shook her head in refusal when Dani waved from the front row.
Instead of standing front and center where she could easily see Josh’s face and watch the joy come to life that he found singing, she moved to the outskirts of the crowd in the back. If anyone questioned her she would simply say she wanted to use the building as a wind block to keep Kendall warm. There were heaters spread around, but bodies of friends weren’t enough to block the wind she was avoiding. And only she knew she was afraid of the frigid chill that would settle on Josh’s face when he saw her cradling a baby. His baby.
As she neared the gazebo slash stage Hauk had built for the Fall Festival two falls ago, the same stage Josh had performed on when they first met, the sounds and smells of Christmas outdoors grew stronger.
Carols played through the speakers that had been set up, but the gathering crowd was growing restless for the guest singer. Chestnuts roasted in the open pit the firemen from Trent’s station oversaw, hot cocoa and cider were being served by the women from the local coffee shop, and the giant tree that had been officially lit the night before emitted a pleasantly strong pine scent.
It had been in a crowd similar to tonight’s when she’d met Josh. Booths had lined the square and the townspeople had talked and laughed then as they did now. She was working backstage, helping Vic make sure things were perfect for their headliner, when she’d gone to knock on the bus door to say they were ready.
Josh had opened the door himself. Toned muscles showcased by the unbuttoned shirt wet at the collar from a recent shower had been as tempting as his appealing smile. His looks had weakened her, but his charming invitation to come in and wait and then the way he’d joked with her and called her Aims instead of Aimee like he’d known her forever had been her undoing.
She’d wanted to believe she was different even when the wanting defied logic. He’d no doubt used the same approach with every woman he invited into his bed, but she had allowed herself to pretend.
Kendall’s fusses turned into full-blown cries that demanded Aimee’s attention return to the present. She’d decided to see Josh after the show, to tell him everything he didn’t know. If there was a chance for them to have any kind of relationship, even one for Kendall, then she had to be up front with him.
Varied scenarios had played on a loop all day in her mind. He’d walk away and never look back. He’d fight her for custody and, considering his money, he’d win. He’d accuse her of playing a horrible trick and hate her.
A glimmer of hope existed that he’d hear her out despite any hurt or anger she’d caused. It was a miniscule glimmer easily overshadowed by doubts and insecurities and certainty that the karma gods would decide to punish her for anything she’d ever done wrong.
“You talk to him today?” Carmen stepped up and rubbed a gloved hand over Kendall’s cheek.
“No.” Aimee swayed side to side as she watched the stage for any sign of Josh. “How do you tell a man with his lifestyle about the daughter he doesn’t know about?”
Carmen smiled her best pep talk smile. Unlike other times, even her sister’s best chat wouldn’t brighten Aimee’s dark mood. Even the strongest encouragements held no power against fear and Aimee was not in the mood to be cheered.
“How about ‘This is Kendall. She’s yours.’ Assuming you don’t want to go with ‘Hey, Josh. You remember when we knocked guitars? You knocked me up.’”
Byron saved Aimee from responding when he leapt onto the stage with the spryness he often hid for the sake of one scheme or another. It was part of his charm that made her wish he could have been her granddad, or that she could even have known hers.
With the exception of a middle spotlight that stayed on Byron, all the lights on and around the stage went out until the only light came from the dull glow of the heat lamps. There was a shuffling behind Byron, but he pu
lled all attention to him when he began speaking in a strong and booming tone that almost didn’t need a microphone’s magnification.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve heard the rumors about who our surprise guest might be.”
With her eyes adjusting to the darkness, Aimee could see the band moving into position. Josh, moving with his confident stride, walked to the middle of the stage.
“Toby Keith!”
“Nickelback!”
“Michael Bublé!”
“Neil Diamond!”
“Rascal Flatts!”
“One Direction!”
The warring shouts from the teens and the elderly alike rose and collided in the frigid air and the smile on Byron’s face grew bigger. As the man in charge of booking the headliner, and schemer of epic proportions, he’d spent the last several months answering every inquiry with a different artist. Knowing he’d fooled everyone, most everyone, no doubt satisfied his heart as much as a tumbler of rum satisfied his thirst.
“No. No. No. No. No. And thank the stars no!” Byron laughed as he taunted the crowd more and told his fellow schemers Errol and Harold they owed him a bottle of rum.
“No stranger to the stage or tabloids, this man says he enjoys the quiet pace of Whispering Cove. He says there’s a magic in walking our streets after everyone’s gone to bed, just as there’s a kinship in the way we look out for each other.” The old man sounded for all the cove like he was reading an online dating profile, not that he would approve of a town young’n, as he called them, thinking they could find love over a computer.
Quiet strumming from a single, acoustic guitar moved across the stage from behind Byron. Aimee knew every chord of every song Josh played. This wasn’t any of them.
“Put your hands together and welcome a friend to the stage.” Byron skipped naming Josh and instead began the round of clapping as he moved off stage.
The lights stayed off with the glow of the moonlight showing the outline of a man sitting alone on a stool. An adoring and eager crowd shown in brilliant colors before the dark stage. Aimee swallowed as the image imprinted itself on her mind and the impression of loneliness stamped itself on her heart.
Was the loneliness his or hers?
Chapter Three
Josh had never felt more on display than he did in the darkness of the stage as he sat on a stool. His guitar had been a sort of security blanket for years, yet knowing Aimee was somewhere in the crowd facing him, knowing she would hear his words and know they were for her, stripped away all security. At least he hoped she knew they were for her.
His band was behind him, ready to follow his lead. He didn’t give them any thought though as he scanned the faces he could see, hoping to find the woman whose Irish green gaze had haunted his dreams.
“Nights of passion and days of laughs
Came so easily, but quickly passed.
To learn your secrets I can tell you mine.
I remember your kiss, it is finer than wine.
You began as a fling, your touch gave me wings.
I could do anything, but I bade you good-bye.
I yearn for your hi,
I couldn’t stay,
There’d have been no way,
So I left you behind,
Yet you stayed in my mind.
You stay in my mind.”
Josh didn’t typically write ballads. The slower notes always felt stilted. Until now. He searched the faces he could see, but didn’t spot the woman he craved.
“Mistakes, mistakes reveal truth.
Truth I can’t see through.
I’d rather ignore.”
His band came in, settling into the music as if they’d played the song a hundred times. He couldn’t avoid the truth of his lyrics.
“Reminds me of pleasures that I can’t forget.
They’re stuck in my head, but I feel no more.
Life shrouds me, your scent still surrounds me, you’re constant company,
Stuck in a lonely embrace
Only your smile has the power to erase.
I couldn’t stay,
There’d have been no way,
So I left you behind,
Yet you stayed in my mind.
You stay in my mind.”
And he couldn’t stop hoping that putting his feelings on display would somehow change Aimee’s mind about them, because he wanted, no he needed, to know her better. It was something that was quickly growing into a compulsion bigger than his need to write new music. And he had to write new music because as much as he wouldn’t mind less time on the road he couldn’t allow himself to stop moving forward in his career.
“Our festival fling
Should’ve been a passing thing.
Should’ve left you behind,
But you live in my mind.”
Hauk, who sat at the lighting control panel with his wife and daughter, eased the spotlight closer to Josh. The anonymity of darkness’s shroud began to vanish. He scanned the crowd quickly. Aimee was there somewhere. She had to be listening.
“’Tis the season for home, its whispers of welcome I’m pining for.
Home as mile after mile passes by.
’Tis the season for family, its whispers of love, I need that love.
As I regret my good-bye,
I regret good-bye.”
Even last night as the lyrics had flooded his mind he hadn’t planned on singing them at the concert. It was too soon to lay all his cards on the table, and if Aimee were paying any attention she would know that’s what he was doing. Now, just as she had then, Aimee Smith, with the less-than-perfect past, intrigued him.
“I couldn’t stay,
There’d have been no way.
I couldn’t stay.
’Tis the season to dream
In a Christmas serenade.
Say I can stay,
And that we’ll find a way.
Just tell me you want me to stay.”
As his finger hovered over the last string and the note faded, Hauk raised the lights fully. The crowd erupted into applause and yells. The face he’d hoped to find, the smile he’d hoped to win, was nowhere to be seen. If she’d missed the concert, or skipped it as a way of avoiding him, or if he’d scared her off…
“Well!” Kellan, his lead guitarist and best friend, slapped him on the shoulder and spoke excitedly into his mic. “What do you think, Whispering Cove? Would you let him stay if he asked you so sweetly?”
“Yes!”
“Or would you make him prove himself? Maybe with more songs? Something to get you moving so you don’t freeze out here!”
“Sing!”
“Stay with me!”
Josh stood and moved the stool aside. Recovering the stage persona he’d momentarily set aside, he took off his guitar and handed it to Kellan with a thank you only his friend heard. He still wanted to see Aimee over anything else, but he’d committed to giving the citizens of Whispering Cove a show. If entire families, down to the tiniest baby, could bundle up and brave the cold, he could postpone another plea for passion.
Knowing how cold it had been in the evenings in the fall, Josh had only been willing to give Byron an hour for an outside concert in December. In that hour they played some favorite Christmas songs as well as a few of their hits. He grabbed a few people up front and invited them to join him. That didn’t always sound great, but the crowd loved it.
It was something Kellan had talked him into doing during every concert. When he wasn’t on stage he preferred his privacy, but the desire to make people happy, a necessity that played into his success, streamed through his blood as fluidly as notes danced along a music staff.
Unlike his much longer shows that fed him with fun, Josh only wanted this one to be over so he could do something to make himself happy. At the moment, that something was to stop hiding in Byron and Ruth’s home. To take walks through Whispering Cove, find inspiration for new songs. To see Aimee.
They were wrapping up the last song
when the crowd moved together at just the right angle for him to see two women leaning against a building at the back of the crowd. Not any two women. Aimee and her sister, Carmen. Aimee should have been easy to spot in the vibrant teal coat and purple hat and scarf. Even bundled for warmth, her love of color showed. In Aimee’s arms as she swayed to the rhythm of his music, was a well-bundled baby.
His stomach knotted. Was the baby hers? Was that why she’d said they couldn’t pick up where they left off?
The moon and area lights glinted off Aimee’s sparkling eyes. The briefest moment passed when he thought she looked at him. Met and held his gaze. He stared back because if she was really looking at him so closely he wasn’t going to be the one to break the moment.
Carmen broke it for them both when she stepped closer to Aimee and rested a hand on the baby’s back. The sisters talked among themselves. Aimee glanced at the stage, shook her head and then looked back to Carmen. He thanked the crowd, never taking his eyes off the spot where Aimee swayed to calm the infant.
“Kell.” Josh moved to the edge of the stage with his pal. They had been together since the beginning of their dues-paying years. The number of records they sold made no difference when it came to setting up and taking down their equipment. The band was a team, a family, and they worked together as one until all the work was done. “I need to go talk to someone. Can you cover for me here?”
“We’ve got this.”
“Thanks.”
“This person you need to talk to is Aimee, isn’t it? She’s why we’re doing Christmas in Whispering Cove? She’s why you haven’t been happy.”
“I’ve been happy.”
“Except when you’re alone.”
Lying to Kellan when he’d helped convince the band to give up their time off to be with him didn’t sit well with Josh, but he’d just done it without thinking. He wouldn’t tell Kell everything, but given his momentary seriousness, Josh wouldn’t lie again. “She’s been on my mind since we left here the last time. Something about her stayed with me, and I have to figure out why.”