by Elks, Carrie
Madison Clark. Maddie. His ex-girlfriend’s little sister who was all grown up. He stepped away from the glow of the streetlamp and into the shadows, watching carefully as she lifted the piano lid, then flexed her fingers and rolled her shoulders, sitting up straight as her hands rested on the keys.
She started with a scale. One handed at first, then adding the other. It became more complex, her fingers moving fast as it turned from a scale into a song, the melody sweet and low as it echoed into the night air.
Maddie Clark was good; you didn’t need to be a rockstar to tell that. It was in the way the notes flowed effortlessly without a single fault, the tempo rising as she reached the crescendo, her chest rising and falling with the beat. What was it Becca had said? That Maddie had studied at Ansell.
So why the heck was she working in a small town diner for a living?
As the melody tapered off, her fingers slowing as they moved over the last few keys, Gray stepped back into the light, planning on heading back home.
But then she lifted her head and stared out of the window. Their gazes clashed and Gray could hear the beat of his pulse as it rushed through his ears. She walked to the window and pulled the gauzy curtain away so she could lean out.
“Hey,” she called out softly. “What are you doing standing there?”
“I was listening to you play.” He took a step forward so he didn’t have to shout. “You were good.”
Her lips curled up. “Thank you. If I’d have known a famous musician was listening, I might have tried a little harder.”
“I’d hate to hear how good you are when you try harder.” He was only a yard away from the house now. Enough to see the freckles across her nose and the shadows beneath her eyes. “What were you playing?”
“Nothing you’ll have heard of.”
“I know that. Was it something you’ve written?”
She opened her mouth then closed it again, her fingers still curved around the open window pane. “You want a beer?” she asked him.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her question. Yet his mouth watered at the thought of the ice cold liquid. “Yeah, I’d like that. If I’m not disturbing you.”
“Come around to the backyard. I’ll bring us a couple out,” she said, inclining her head at the path that wound around the bungalow. By the time he gotten there, she was pushing the back door open with her shoulder, and walking out with two open beer. “There you go,” she said, passing him an ice cold bottle. “I figure we can sit out here and enjoy the weather.” She laid back on an Adirondack chair that faced out toward the river, and he took the seat next to hers. “Cheers,” she said, holding out her bottle, and he clinked his against it.
“Cheers.”
He took a long, cold sip of beer, closing his eyes as it slipped down his throat. “I needed that.”
“Me, too.” She smiled at him. “It’s been one of those days.”
“You can say that again.”
Her left eyebrow lifted up. “How’re the repairs going?”
“Slow. Hard. And made worse by the constant worry that I’ll flood the whole place, and my dad will never let me hear the end of it.”
“You really care what your dad thinks?” she asked.
“I care if I flood him and he ends up in the hospital again,” Gray said, lifting the bottle back to his lips. “Or if I leave Aunt Gina without water for days.”
“You have enough money to fix any of that. Just whisk them away to Hawaii for a few days and get a professional in. I’m pretty sure they’ll forgive you real quick.”
“I’m starting to learn that money can’t buy everything.”
She laughed. “It can buy a damn lot.” He watched as her lips closed over the rim of her bottle and she tipped her head back to swallow another mouthful. He tried to ignore the desire shooting through him.
This was Maddie. Little Maddie Clark. His fucking libido needed to take a hike. He crossed his legs in case it didn’t.
“So why is it one of those days for you?” he asked her, trying to distract himself.
She sighed and pulled at the label around her bottle, tearing off the paper. “Every day feels like one of those days sometimes, you know? Like you’re swimming against the tide when everybody else is on a motorboat, and right when you think you’re making progress, they circle around you and make sure their wake sends you under the surface.”
“Was it Murphy’s eggs?” Gray asked, his face serious.
She laughed, and it gave him way too much pleasure. “It’s always Murphy’s eggs.” She turned to look at him, her warm eyes catching his again. “They’re enough to ruin anybody’s day.”
“How does someone run a diner for that long and still not know how to make eggs?”
She shrugged. “It takes a lot of skill.”
It was Gray’s turn to laugh. For the first time all day he felt his muscles relax. A mixture of the beer, the cool air, and the woman sitting next to him. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“Look at that,” Maddie said, lifting her hand toward the trees. “Fireflies. There are so many this year.”
He followed the direction of her finger, taking in the glowing insects as they rested in the old oak tree at the end of her yard. From here they looked like a thousand tiny lights, glowing in the night air.
“Pretty.”
“Yeah. I always love the fireflies. There are some years they don’t seem to be around at all. But then others they’re here every night, lighting up the way.”
“There was a year when they were everywhere,” Gray said, his eyes drawn back to her. “I must have been sixteen, and I remember thinking if only they could stay until Christmas, it’d be like having our own living, breathing decorations. But they never did.”
Maddie smiled at him. “I didn’t know sixteen-year-old boys thought like that. I thought it was all girls, sports, and well…” she pulled her lip between her teeth.
“Sex?” he asked, biting down a grin.
“I was thinking more about solo fun.”
“You were thinking about masturbation?” His voice was low. “Don’t let a teenage boy hear you say that.”
“You have a dirty mind.”
“Not as dirty as a teenage boy.”
“You sure about that?” She tipped her head to the side, her brows rising up.
“You’re the one who brought up sex,” he pointed out.
“Oh my god,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re twisting my words.”
Yeah, maybe. But now he couldn’t get the image out of his mind. Maddie Clark touching herself.
He took another mouthful of beer.
“Why don’t we change the subject?” Maddie asked him.
“Sure. What should we talk about?” he replied, his voice low. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed, and yet so aware of a woman, too. His body responded every time their eyes met.
“Tell me about your next album,” Maddie suggested, leaning her head back as she spoke. And as Gray told her about the concept he had planned, he watched her expression. He liked the way her eyes lit up as he spoke about the music, the way her questions were so pointed and intelligent as he talked her through the latest song he was writing. But more than anything, he liked the way she looked at him. Like he was as big and bright as that plate moon hanging low in the sky.
And if a part of him wanted to kiss his teenage sweetheart’s little sister? Well, he was a grown man. He could ignore it.
Chapter Eleven
“Maddie? I just saw Rachel Garston pull up outside.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Rachel Garston’s son was a regular pupil, one Maddie had been teaching since he was five years old. He didn’t have any particular flair for the piano, nor did he want to. But he liked to please his momma by playing for her friends at Christmas and on birthdays, and Rachel never missed a payment for his tuition.
And he was a sweet
little kid, so there was that.
Maddie glanced at the message she’d been reading on her phone as she walked out of the kitchen. She hadn’t heard from Sarah Mayhew for months, not since they exchanged Christmas cards the previous December. Seeing her name flash on the screen had made Maddie’s stomach do a weird flip-flop. Sarah was the only person from The Ansell School of Performing Arts she kept in contact with, and seeing her name always reminded Maddie of those days.
Of what could have been and what wasn’t.
Walking down the hallway, Maddie thought about her message.
Can you believe it’s been five years since the Class of Fifteen graduated? We’ve decided to have a long-overdue reunion. Right now, we’re in the organizational stage – we’ve set up a Facebook page and are asking for suggestions of dates and locations. You should join us. I know you didn’t graduate, but you were still part of the class. Everybody would love to see you!
Maddie pulled the front door open and lifted her hand to wave at Rachel. Little Charlie ran up the pathway, clutching his music book. She grinned as he reached the steps.
“Come on in,” she said. “My mom’s made some lemonade. I figure we can have a glass before we start.”
“Yes!” He did a fist bump that made Maddie want to laugh.
She slid her phone in her pocket, and pushed away thoughts of Ansell and all those who’d graduated from it.
It was a lifetime ago. It didn’t matter any more.
“Come on,” she said, putting her hand on Charlie’s shoulders. “Let’s go fix you a glass.”
* * *
When Friday night came around, Maddie found herself wishing for rain, even though she hated getting wet and being stuck indoors. Right now it felt preferable to wheeling her mom to Chairs and subjecting herself to the good townsfolk of Hartson’s Creek.
But like a dutiful daughter, she did it anyway, loading up a cooler with drinks and helping her mom get ready. The only silver lining she could see when she carried the cooler of drinks and cupcakes to the large table in the center of the field was that Gray’s Aunt Gina and sister, Becca, were there, unloading their own baskets of baked goods.
“Hey.” Becca greeted her. “Long time no see.” She was pouring lemonade from an oversized glass jug into cups. “Want one?”
“That’d be great.” Maddie took the proffered glass. “Thank you. Is this your Aunt Gina’s recipe?”
“Yup. And we’re lucky to have it. Until an hour ago we had no water in the house.” Becca sighed. “I have to be up by six every morning if I want a shower. Right now I’m counting down the weeks until I get to sleep in.”
“How’s the plumbing going?” Maddie asked. “Has Gray drenched anybody yet?”
“You know about that?” Becca asked.
“Gray told me…” Maddie trailed off, noticing Becca’s curious expression. “Nothing’s secret around here for long,” she added quickly.
“I heard about you rescuing him,” Becca told her. “But that was before he agreed to replace all the pipes. Have you seen him since?”
Maddie’s thoughts drifted back to the other night, and their long talk in her backyard as they watched the fireflies. She’d loved listening to him talk about music, about his homecoming album, and the songs he wanted to write.
Becca was staring at her, waiting for a reply.
“He came in the diner the other day,” Maddie told her. It wasn’t a lie.
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
“So apart from the early mornings, how is the job going?” Maddie asked her, hoping Becca didn’t notice the abrupt change in subject. After they talked about Becca’s work at a local distillery, Maddie made her mom a plate of sweet treats and poured a cool drink, telling Becca she’d catch up with her later before heading back over to her mom.
“Thank you, honey,” her mom said when she’d laid a napkin and plate on her lap. “This looks delicious.”
“The tea is Aunt Gina’s finest,” Maddie told her.
Her mom took a sip. “Like drinking a little piece of liquid sun.”
An hour later, her mom was in deep conversation with Jessica’s mom. Although Maddie ached to go home, she didn’t have the heart to interrupt her. Taking a cookie from the still-laden buffet table, she wandered across the grass toward the field where a group of teenagers had set up a flag football game. Her lip curled up as she watched them run and bicker, reminding her so strongly of a decade earlier, when she’d been one of them.
“Maddie, come sit with us.”
She turned to see Jessica looking at her expectantly. When Maddie hesitated, she tapped the empty chair to her right and smiled.
Maddie opened her mouth to refuse when she saw that Laura and Becca were among the group seated there. It couldn’t be all that bad, could it?
“I hear you’ve been hurdling over fences,” Jessica said before Maddie’s behind hit the seat. “I didn’t believe it when Della Thorsen told me. What woman our age goes climbing fences?” She gave a fake laugh. “I guess it helps that you’ve never given birth.”
“What?” Maddie asked. “Why would that matter?”
“Oh, you’ll understand when it happens to you.” The woman next to Jessica grimaced. “Let’s just say that trampolining, acrobatics, and even coughing can cause a problem after childbirth.”
“That’s why I always do my pelvic floor exercises,” Jessica proclaimed, flipping her hair behind her back. “Use it or lose it, ladies. Plus Matt appreciates the… ah… difference.” She winked.
“Can we talk about something else?” Laura asked, wrinkling her nose. “I really don’t need to know your sexual secrets.”
Jessica huffed. “I’m just saying Maddie is lucky. She doesn’t have to worry about that stuff.” She turned back to Maddie. “I don’t think it’s right, though. Gray leading you astray like that. What did Ashleigh say?”
Maddie stole a glance at Becca. Her expression revealed nothing. “He didn’t lead me astray. I’m the one who made him jump. He was only trying to escape from all the attention.”
“I bet he actually likes it,” Jessica said. “What guy wouldn’t love girls running after him? He’s pretty much begging for it with all those album covers. I swear I’ve seen his naked body more than I’ve seen Matt’s.”
“That’s not fair,” Maddie said, trying to push down her annoyance. “It’s like saying a girl with a short skirt is begging for guys to hit on her. He’s allowed to express himself.”
Becca smiled warmly at her, appreciation all over her face.
“Girls with short skirts are asking for it.” Jessica shrugged. “We all know that.”
Laura shook her head. “The nineteen fifties called. They want their bigoted opinions back.”
Maddie bit down a laugh. “I like Gray’s album covers. They’re beautiful and artistic.”
“All those tattoos.” Jessica gave a mock shudder. “I like my men to look like men, not canvases.”
“I think tattoos are hot.” The words escaped from Maddie’s lips before she could stop them. Jessica turned to her with a raised eyebrow.
“You think Gray Hartson is hot?”
Maddie swallowed. “I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you really did.”
She was sick of defending herself against the Jessicas of this town. Their small minds and judgments felt like burdens weighing Maddie down. She looked over at Becca who was watching with interest. When their eyes caught, Maddie winked.
“Well, if you’re asking for my opinion, then Gray’s definitely the hottest guy in Hartson’s Creek right now. But he doesn’t have a lot of competition, does he? Tanner’s pretty good looking, I guess, but who else is there?”
Jessica blinked. “I think Matt’s very good looking.”
“Of course you do,” Maddie said. “Bless your heart.”
Laura coughed out a laugh.
It didn’t feel as good as Maddie thought it would. Maybe it was too easy. Jessica got up to get herself anot
her drink, calling her friends – minus Maddie, Laura, and Becca – to join her.
“That was sweet,” Becca said to Maddie when they’d gone. “And hopefully one day I’ll get over you describing my brother as hot.”
“She was just telling the truth,” Laura said, shrugging. “Your family breeds good looking children, you included.”
Becca blew her a kiss. “Thank you kindly. And for that you should both come to Tanner’s birthday party tomorrow night. He’s rented out part of the Moonlight Bar.”
“Rich is already going,” Laura said, letting out a sigh. “Which means I’m on babysitting duties. But thanks for the invite.”
“How about you?” Becca asked, smiling at Maddie. “Tanner’s promised Karaoke. I always win when I sing with you.”
“Yeah, but will you two beat Gray?” Laura asked them. “He’s the famous singer, after all.”
“Ugh. I didn’t think of that.” Becca pressed her lips together. “In that case, you have to come tomorrow night. We can’t let my brother take our crown.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Maddie. “Be there by nine. That’s when the fun begins.”
Chapter Twelve
Gray walked into the Moonlight Bar and looked around, taking in the dark wooden floors, the peeling walls that might once have been painted a dark red, and the neon lit signs that were hanging at an angle.
He’d only ever been in here once, and he’d been quickly ejected before he could even produce his fake ID. Why he’d thought he could get away with underage drinking in the only bar in Hartson’s Creek he had no idea. Maybe because he’d been eighteen and cocky as hell.
He did a double take at one of the lighted signs on the far wall.
“Live nudes?” he asked Tanner, frowning. “Seriously?”
“In Sam’s dreams,” Tanner said, inclining his head toward the bar owner. Sam was pulling a pint, his grey hair falling over his eyes. “Somebody bought it for him last Christmas as a joke.”