He lost track of time in the structure and flow of the words and, before he knew it, it was after five p.m. and time to meet Tina Marie at the festival.
They rode the Ferris wheel together (twice). They went through the haunted house and, when something slimy touched her arm, she screamed like the devil himself was after her. Trevor couldn’t stop laughing. And even though he’d just spent an hour teasing her, she still treated him to a collection of delights from Scott’s Sweets, and they took turns congratulating this year’s Festival King and Queen.
So caught up was he in his day and in her that, once again, he forgot about returning Lillian’s emails. Until late that night. When she called.
He’d had his phone on vibrate and was fully engrossed in kissing Tina Marie goodnight that he didn’t even look at his cell. But, back in his car, he finally did. This time, his boss had left a direct and rather urgent voice message.
“The print edition of the Gazette almost went to press with three errors,” she exclaimed in horror. “And two freelancers didn’t turn their stories in on time because you weren’t around to remind them. And only Geoff, Declan, and Ramona got any of my jokes this week. Seriously, Trev, I miss you and can’t wait for you to get back here. Hurry home, okay?”
He grimaced. These were not what anyone but Lillian would consider emergencies. But, to his boss and to all of the staff writers who cared about accuracy, print mistakes were very worrisome, and freelancers who played fast and loose with deadlines could cause unfortunate delays.
The real surprise for him, though, was that—much as he missed home and the chaotic fun of working full time for the paper—there was a real excitement that accompanied the unfamiliar. It had been a helluva long time since he’d faced any new writing challenges in his day.
His routine, while pleasurable, had clearly stagnated. The need to inject a sense of adventure into his life again hadn’t been an actionable item on his radar until he’d met Tina. And even if she hadn’t been with him in Colorado Springs, there was something so satisfying about hitting the road, being on a journey that could lead to the unexpected, and even dealing with obstacles. It wasn’t as though his life this week had been without problems...just that they were different problems from the ones he usually faced.
Something inside of him craved more of this kind of change.
Additionally, he couldn’t squelch his longing for true companionship. Maybe Tina Marie would get sick of him after a week or two, but he’d grown very attached to her company. To having a woman—specifically that woman—by his side. The more he experienced the joy of this kind of bonding and relationship commitment, the more he wanted it to continue.
And if he was serious about pursuing her, he’d have to make some real changes. A man couldn’t do what he’d always done if he wanted a different result, could he?
Nope.
It was just which sort of life did he envision himself living now, and how much of his current one would he need to alter to make it happen?
Chapter Six
Trevor was acutely aware that it was easy to choose between a good life plan and a bad one. The difficulty came in having to make a decision between two very good paths. Like, for instance, the joy and comfort of his life back home in Illinois versus the sheer excitement of being with a woman he was starting to fall for really hard.
He’d considered himself a lost young man for a few years before he moved to Mirabelle Harbor, adrift and marginal until he finally found a place and a group of people that made him feel as though he truly belonged. Just imagine what it might be like to have that sense of belonging...and to have Tina Marie with him there?
Pure perfection.
All he had to do was to figure out the near impossible. But he was up to the challenge.
Such were his thoughts as he watched Tina take to the stage Thursday evening. It was Open Mic Night at the Come Again and the atmosphere in the bar was charged with anticipation. Trevor had a frosty beer in his hands and his gaze fixed on the amazing woman who was currently tuning her guitar in front of an enthusiastic crowd.
Her cheeks were a bit rosier than usual, having gotten kissed by the sun during the festival’s sand volleyball game that afternoon. That only succeeded in making her look all the more adorable tonight. And it had been a blast to play the game with her and a few of her pals from town. She had such a sweet way of interacting with people. He longed to introduce her to all of his friends back home. Declan would be impressed. Geoff would be charmed. And Blake—well, Blake would nod approvingly and give Trevor two thumbs up.
Tina Marie leaned toward the microphone and addressed the crowd. “This is a brand-new song,” she said, and even before she strummed the first chord, the group of Sapphire Falls residents surrounding them started to cheer.
She laughed. “Well, thanks for that enthusiasm.”
Derek, the bartender, shouted, “We love everything you sing, Tina Marie!”
She blew him a kiss from across the room and, for a second, Trevor couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy.
“I wrote the lyrics with the help of a very sweet friend—” She grinned at him and pointed. “Thanks, Trevor.” Then, to the crowd, “It’s a song about those times when our heart makes choices that we know are unrealistic but, nevertheless, we follow where it leads for as long as we can. And then, well, we just try to accept whatever comes later. It’s called ‘Lines Crossed.’ I hope you like it.”
His pulse started speeding up even before she’d adjusted her capo on the frets and played the opening notes. He’d heard her sing along with the radio, of course. He knew she had a lovely voice. But hearing her perform solo to the strumming of her own guitar, and watching her share a song she’d created herself—that was a magical experience. For Trevor, all the rest of the world fell away as he listened.
Every line in the first verse had him grinning like a fool. She’d incorporated their rhymes! He heard the word willing (“Something about you just makes me willing...”), which she paired with thrilling. She used both so charming and disarming in the transitional bridge. And when she launched into the lighthearted chorus, he knew he was a total goner. She’d combined some of his favorite words from their night together in Big Springs—“I confess, your caress makes me lose all sense”—and as his pulse kept time with the hopeful, upbeat tempo of her song, Trevor knew that if anyone needed to follow her passion and go to Nashville, it was Tina Marie. Not only wouldn’t he dream of stopping her or trying to lure her to back to his own hometown, he vowed to do everything in his power to encourage her to go for it. She deserved the best shot possible.
The crowd in the bar swayed along and clapped to the rockabilly sound as she began the second verse, looking right at him and winking when she got to the lines that used higher and fire. With the latter word, she’d even incorporated a reference to a road trip (“Road climbs to greet us, sets our souls on fire...”), which made his breath hitch.
By the time she’d repeated the chorus and played the last few notes of the song, he was sweating profusely, his heart was pounding so loud he could hear it, and to his utter embarrassment, he even felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes.
Every person in the Come Again seemed to be standing on their feet and wildly cheering her on. So was he. Mind, body, and soul he was with her. But what a painful place to be, he realized. Caring about her and admiring her extraordinary musical talent and, yet, as the subject of her new song, simultaneously recognizing that this very gift would be the means of separating them.
Her cheeks pinked up even more at the deafening applause, but she’d have to get used to that. Trevor more than suspected she’d be doing a lot of performing in the coming years, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she’d score a recording contract before the end of the year in Nashville and maybe even go out on tour next year as one of the opening acts for a popular country band. He could see it in his mind as clearly as he could see his beer mug on the table in front of him.
She sat down in the seat next to him and exhaled. “So, what did you think? Did you like the song?”
He shook his head and pushed his chair closer to her. “No, Tina Marie. I loved it. I expect to hear it on the radio someday.”
“Oh, stop.”
“No. I mean it. And the way you integrated those words we’d come up with—that was inspired.” He tried to swallow back some of the emotion he was feeling. Elation and pride for her. Regret and sadness for him. All weirdly mixed together. “It’s really cool what you can do, what you can create. Nashville is lucky to have you heading their way.”
She blushed again. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Before he had a chance to add anything more, other people at the bar began coming up to her and complimenting her. This was a good thing. She needed to hear more of that because, in spite of his certainty that she was talented enough to succeed eventually, he knew the music world was insanely tough to break into. She’d need every bit of encouragement she could get to sustain her over the next several months...or years...until she got where she wanted to be.
He also knew that, for him, there were only two options now. What he chose to do next rested entirely on the answers to these two questions:
1. Could he take a personal leap of faith and follow her to Nashville sometime soon?
2. And, if he did, would she be happy to have him there?
Problem was, he didn’t know how in the hell he was supposed to figure out either of these answers with just over twenty-four hours left in Sapphire Falls.
~*~
Tina Marie was riding a performance high. There was nothing—nothing—like the feeling of sharing the vision of a song and knowing that it resonated with an audience.
At the Come Again this evening, every listener in the room had been with her. She could feel it. They were one with her musical vision...Trevor most of all. And his reaction mattered more to her than anyone else’s tonight.
A lot of people came up to her, and most of them had questions, comments, praise, or advice. But, once the attention from her local friends and fans simmered down, Trevor suggested to her that they get a couple of mason jars of this famous “Booze” he’d heard people at the festival talking about and that the two of them head down by the river, where more country music would be playing and where the moon and stars would be out shining tonight.
“I figure we can talk and kiss and dream...until dawn,” he whispered in her ear.
“Sounds good.” Oh, boy, did that ever sound good. “And then what, Trev?”
“And then we’ll spend all of tomorrow together.” He looked deep into her eyes and held her gaze. Her insides turned to creamy chocolate pudding. “After that, when Saturday morning comes along, I suppose we both know what’s probably going to happen.”
“I’m going to need to go to Nashville then.”
He nodded. “You are.”
“And you’ve got a job and relatives and friends waiting for you back in Mirabelle Harbor.”
He exhaled slowly. “I do.”
“Then, I guess we’d better make the most of it while we’re together.”
She stashed her guitar in her car’s trunk, grabbed the blanket from the back, and commenced Trevor’s formal introduction to the joy of Borcher’s Booze.
“How many flavors are there?” he asked in wonderment.
“More than most people can count—especially after they’ve had a few jars of it.”
He laughed.
They settled on a multi-flavored selection—cranberry, grape, peppermint, and strawberry—and camped out by the river for the rest of the night.
They drank and giggled, kissed and talked about everything under the sky. As he was telling her about Mirabelle Harbor and his love for the town and the people there, she realized just how easy it would be for her to slide into a new life in a place like that. It sounded like it had the charm of Sapphire Falls, only it was north of a metropolis like Chicago. There would be tons of opportunities in a city like that...just not the kind, unfortunately, that she needed most in order to break into country music.
“I seriously wish they could meet you,” he said, talking of his friends Blake, Declan, and Geoff. “Let’s send them a couple of snapshots of us. C’mere.” He motioned her closer and wrapped one arm around her. Both of them, thanks to the several mason jars of Booze, were a little less steady than normal.
She laughed as he held his phone out to snap a few pictures, and laughed even harder as they lost their balance while sitting and fell backward onto the blanket. He turned his face toward hers and kissed her, even as he snapped another selfie.
“Stop it with that now,” she told him with a grin, pushing away the phone so she could have his full attention. It was well after midnight, and they had only one full day left together. She wanted to feel his embrace, his kiss, his whole body against hers. She wanted to be able to remember every sensation of being with Trevor because, dammit, the clock was ticking. She could almost hear the seconds passing, like the insistent backbeat of a song in 4/4 time. Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Maybe her mind was just playing tricks on her because they were so close to parting, but she could feel the stirrings of inspiration for another tune building inside her. Something slower and sadder but just as true as “Lines Crossed.” Somehow this week, Trevor Cayne had become her songwriting muse.
“We should go somewhere more, um, private,” she murmured in his ear. Though the section of riverbank they inhabited wasn’t crawling with townspeople at the moment, it was definitely public property and easily accessible by anyone.
Heavy lidded, a bit intoxicated, and visibly turned on, Trevor only said, “I’ll go wherever you lead me, sweetheart.”
She nodded and gathered up the blanket, while he fiddled with his phone for a minute more and then collected the last of their things.
He held his hand out to her and she grasped it like a lifeline. “Where to?” he asked.
“I don’t think we should chance your grandmother’s place again, and I know my aunt and uncle are at home tonight so, sadly, that’s not an option either.”
“What about a hotel?”
“Neither of us should drive,” she said.
He nodded in agreement. “Which means going to a hotel in the next town is out. Anyplace in Sapphire Falls you’d feel comfortable checking into?”
She felt heat flooding her face as she tried to imagine showing up at the Rise & Shine Bed and Breakfast with Trevor. “I, uh...”
“I’ll take that as a no,” Trev said with a low chuckle. “That’s okay. We might not be able to drive a car, but we can still occupy one, right?” he suggested.
Yeah, they could do that. Dangerous, perhaps, but not as dangerous as making love on a riverbank.
They chose his car—not only because it was slightly more spacious but, also, because it was better concealed from the street and, unlike her vehicle, parked further from the center of town.
This meant their stroll to get to it was longer, but Tina didn’t mind. She’d known from the moment she’d decided to go to Nashville this week—no matter what—that she’d miss Aunt Debbie and Uncle Carl and her friends in Sapphire Falls like Phoebe, but she’d never counted on missing an out-of-towner like Trevor. Never even imagined having a romantic connection to someone like she did to him. How could she even think of letting him go?
As they slid into the backseat of his car, locked the doors, and picked up where they left off by the river, Trevor looked deep into her eyes—serious and nearly sober.
“How did you become my sun, my moon, my stars in just a few days, Tina Marie?” he whispered. “How did you become my home, my galaxy in less than a week? Missing you hurts like hell already.”
“I know,” she whispered back.
And, suddenly, it didn’t seem like the craziest idea in the world to rearrange her entire life for this man, if only they could figure out a plan to make it work. If they could just find a way to orbit the same spher
e at the same time.
Chapter Seven
Friday morning, Trevor awoke to a mad buzzing sound, like a hive of bees were ganging up to attack something on the nightstand.
Oh, no...not bees. His phone. Which was apparently getting about seven thousand texts at six-effing-thirty in the morning.
He rubbed his forehead and buried his face in the pillow, but that didn’t stop the insatiable texters.
With a sigh, he reached for his cell and scanned the latest messages.
“Call me,” Blake demanded via text.
Geoff wrote, “Hey, the photos you sent last night looked, um...intimate. Did you want to talk?”
Photos? Trevor had only a vague recollection of texting his buddies last night. He sent them a few selfies of himself with Tina Marie. At least that was all he remembered sending. He didn’t have a lingering hangover from the alcohol, but his cocktail of mixed emotions about her was making the formation of accurate recollections difficult.
He glanced at the growing list of texts again. There was one that just popped up from Declan:
“Dude, you got Skype on your laptop, right? Open it up. Let’s chat.”
When Blake and Geoff sent their immediate thumbs up at that idea, Trevor realized that all three of his closest friends in Mirabelle Harbor were ganging up on him. They’d just keep pestering the hell out of him until he answered. So, he typed, “I got Skype. Give me a sec, and I’ll sign on.”
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and dragged himself out of the bed. Damn, his head was pounding. Which was more potent: the several jars of Booze he drank last night or the intoxicating scent of Tina Marie, tangled up with him in the backseat of his car?
Ah. That was a question he knew the answer to already.
He flipped open his laptop, connected to Skype, and called his three friends. Within a minute, all of them had popped up for the chat.
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