(Complete Rock Stars, Surf and Second Chances #1-5)

by Michelle Mankin

  I didn’t overthink it. I just went with what felt right, reveling in the fucking joy of having Hollie back in my arms once more.

  When she started to make low, needful sounds in my mouth, I got serious. Repositioning, I stoked the fire of her need and my own higher and hotter with each hard press of my firm lips to her lush ones.

  “Diesel . . .” She breathed out my name, mine once more as she turned her head to the side and lifted her chin so I could rain reverent kisses along her perfect jawline and down the stately column of her regal neck. “Don’t stop.”

  “There’s no stopping tonight, or ever.”

  I licked the lobe of her ear, and she dipped her hands under the hem of my favorite hoodie from Karen’s shop. Underneath it, Hollie placed her palms directly on my skin. I hissed from the sharp pleasure that spiked my cock as she glided her hands up and over the ridges of my abs on her way to my chest and the heart that raced for her. I was ready to get her naked and bring this dance between us to its appropriate conclusion.

  “This is gone. It’s off.” I ripped the hoodie and the Dirt Dogs shirt underneath it that she’d worn so many times over my head in one fluid motion. “And so is your robe.”

  I aimed my hands for the knot at the front to undo it, but Hollie stopped me.

  “You’re wearing it.” Her tone awe-filled, she reached for the half-dollar-sized wave pendant that hung from a beige leather cord around my neck.

  “Of course I’m wearing it.”

  “I wasn’t sure you would.” The bottom lip I’d feasted on a moment earlier went between her own teeth.

  “It’s carved from a puka shell, and it’s got my son’s name engraved on the back. It’s a fucking cool design and an incredibly thoughtful gift. Why wouldn’t I wear it?” My eyes narrowed. “Inside the box, you left a note thanking me for helping you see beauty instead of fear in the waves. Did you not mean for me to put it on?”

  “I did,” she whispered. “It’s just that I bought it before you got mad at me. I didn’t think you would really want the reminder of our time together. That’s why I left it with your dad. I told him to use his judgment as to whether to give it to you.”

  “Obviously, he gave it to me.”

  She nodded once. “You didn’t really come all this way just to say good-bye. What’s the real reason?” She released the pendant, took a step away from me, and stood very still, seeming to brace for my answer.

  “I was in the process of showing you just now, but you stopped me.”

  “All this way to fuck me again?”

  “It’s more than that.”

  “It was. Then it wasn’t.” Her hands fluttered in front of her chest like Fanny’s did whenever she was nervous.

  “It can be everything it was again. Let me show you.” I reached for Hollie, but she scrambled farther away. “Fuck this shit.”

  I grabbed her by the belt of her robe and hauled her closer.

  “Don’t.” She brought her arms up between us and threaded her fingers together in front of her chest. Her clasped hands were a barrier between two lonely seeking hearts, but I sensed there was a deeper, more significant one.

  “A moment ago, you didn’t want me to stop.” My brows drew together in displeasure. “What the fuck?”

  “I can’t do this anymore.” She shook her head. Her moonbeam hair settled around her slim shoulders and her blush-pink lips wobbled.

  “Do what?” It was difficult to think straight when all I wanted was standing right in front of me.

  “Disappoint you. Walk away from you again.”

  “You didn’t walk, you ran.”

  “I did, but not from the pain. It cuts here.” She tapped her chest with the back of her fist. “Like a blade.”

  “I’m sorry I was harsh. I react poorly to deception. I told you I have no tolerance for it. You have to know Lalana lied to me all the time, whatever she had to say to get her next fix. My son might be alive if I hadn’t trusted her . . .”

  Wait. It was my responsibility. I had no right to put the burden of my guilt on Hollie.

  I pulled in a breath and refocused. “You’re not her. I know you’re not her. I got over my anger pretty quickly. If you would’ve stayed, we could’ve worked it out faster. I would’ve apologized sooner. I was wrong to act and speak to you the way I did.”

  “I accept your apology. Knowing you forgive me will make it easier when we see each other the next time.”

  “We’ll see each other now. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t you get it, the real reason I came? I care about you.”

  “I care about you too. More than care.” She glanced away. “But I’m pregnant.”

  “I know you are. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. For me, it’s okay. But not for you.” Tears dulled the shine of previous passion in her eyes. “I’ve come to terms with the baby, in large part because of you and your dad. I realize what a gift this new life will be, and I’m going to do everything I can to be the best mother I can be.”

  “It’ll come naturally. You won’t have to try.”

  “It doesn’t feel natural yet. It feels difficult as hell. I’m scared, and you’re not making it easier, coming here and forcing me to do what I need to do a second time.”

  “I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t continue what we started.”

  “There’s just the one, but the one’s enough. The baby negates our start. It negates our continuing. I knew it would before we began our experiment. You were right. I should’ve tried harder to tell you the truth before our emotions got so involved.”

  Tears in her eyes sparkled like stars about to wink out. “It would’ve been easier to stop it then. It likely wouldn’t have hurt as much to throw on the brakes. Being selfish, I only delayed the inevitable end.”

  Disengaging from me, Hollie hugged her arms around herself. “You deserve a woman without a past, and a baby to love that’s yours.”

  “I want you.”

  “I want you too. But it’s not a simple one-plus-one, me-and-you equation. Not with me and a baby. It just doesn’t add up. I watched my mother and Samuel tear each other to shreds, and my sister and me in the process, in a scenario that’s so similar to ours, it’s scary.”

  “I’m not a scumbag like Samuel.” My gaze burned with the force of my denial.

  “I know you’re not. You’re loyal and kind, fierce and passionate, everything I would want in a man at my side . . . if I were free to have one as perfect for me as you.” The stars went out as they spilled down her cheeks.

  “A lost dream or a second chance for both of us,” I said, feeling that we were on the cusp of a decision that could change both our lives.

  “What?” she asked.

  “My dad said I had to choose, but I made up my mind long before I got on the plane to come here. You’re a dream come true for me. I love you, more than I thought I could ever love anyone again. Together, I think we can do anything, be anything we want to. You and I can be a second chance that adds up to three.”

  Reaching out for Hollie’s hands, I said firmly, “I’ve decided. I’m ready for us, for a reality that includes you, me, and the baby. But are you?”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  * * *

  Hollie

  “Diesel came all this way to apologize and declare himself?” Walking beside me, Fanny gave me an incredulous look.

  I nodded.

  “And he specifically said he’s leaving it up to you to decide?”

  “Yes.”

  “That seems very un-Diesel-like.”

  I agreed.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, voicing the million-dollar question.

  “I don’t know yet. Can we not talk about it right now?”

  We had reached the end of the dock. Waverly’s house was a modest log cabin perched over the water like my hotel room was. I wondered if it could possibly be the same cabin our parents had made their daytime home.

  Fanny knocked on the front
door, and then her jaw dropped when our aunt opened it.

  “I’ve seen pictures of you, but the resemblance is incredible.” Waverly’s expression revealed she was experiencing some shock of her own.

  “Can we come in?” I shuffled my feet in my new sneakers. The sun had gone down, dropping the temperature dramatically.

  “Of course. Come in.” She stepped aside and swept her arm toward the interior where lamps glowed invitingly.

  Fanny and I entered together. Not even thinking about it, we reached for each other’s hand, our fingers entwining as we stepped onto the gleaming hardwood floor.

  “You have a lovely home,” Fanny said, her silver eyes shiny as she took in the rich earth-toned leather furnishings and rustic wrought-iron accents that blended in perfectly with the red cedar walls.

  “It only really feels like a home now that you both are inside it.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “And thank you for inviting us.”

  “I’m glad to have you.” Waverly turned her gaze to Fanny. “Do you remember it at all?”

  “I’ve never been here.”

  Our aunt’s smile wobbled. “You lived here when you were very young with your parents.”

  “During the day,” I reminded my sister. I’d shared with her everything that Waverly had told me. “You and Mom slept in the car at night.”

  “I don’t remember this.” Fanny squinted around as if looking for something to jog her memory.

  “It probably looks different,” Waverly said. “It was mostly used for storage back then. The bones were there to make it a real house—”

  “I remember the view.” My sister released my hand and drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the Inside Passage and the mountains on the other side better than my hotel room did. “This is where he told me good-bye.”

  Fanny reached out to the side as if to touch someone who was no longer there.

  “No, that’s not right. He didn’t tell me good-bye.” Her head, in a purple woven beanie that replaced the Lakers one she’d once worn, angled reflectively to the side. “He sang to me.”

  “Yes, I imagine he probably did. He wrote poetry. Your mom convinced him to take up the guitar. There’s a book of lyrics he left behind that I’d like to give you. Plus, letters he addressed to you both before he got too sick to write anymore. Do you remember anything else?” Waverly glanced at Fanny expectantly.

  “Mostly just things about my mom. Her cooking for the workers. Her acting on the stage. I only recently recalled the moment here when he said good-bye.”

  Waverly nodded, her expression becoming somber. “Let’s get you both fed. Then we can sit here in the living room and talk. There’s lots I’d like to share with you. But first, I’d like to know about your lives. I read everything I could online and in magazines, but I know I missed a lot.”

  We moved into the dining area. An oblong table fashioned from a log that had been split down the middle was surrounded by mismatched chairs that somehow worked well together.

  “Abigail and William picked out the dining set,” Waverly told us as we settled into chairs at one end. Our aunt was at the head, and Fanny and I were across from each other.

  “Where did they find it?” I asked as she offered me a slice of freshly baked bread from a colorful azure platter.

  “The chairs at secondhand shops here and there. They both liked repurposing old things like this table. It was an old tree someone had chopped down, then abandoned.” Placing her napkin in her lap, she gestured to a tray in the center of the table. “It’s just bread from the bakery where I met you this morning, and Fine Point oysters for supper. Nothing very fancy.”

  “It’s perfect.” I reached for and stilled one of Waverly’s hands. They had started to flutter. “It’s very nice of you to invite us here and go to all this trouble when we’re practically strangers.”

  “You’re family. All that I have left after my parents, my brother, and my dear Tim passed.”

  “I’m sorry.” I squeezed her hand and released it. “You’ve had losses of your own.”

  “I have. But this is a great day. A day for finding two treasures. Tell me about your mother, about your life growing up, what you do for fun, besides the singing and acting, which I know. You two are so much like both of them.”

  “Our mother was wonderful,” Fanny said, and I filled in the blanks she left open for me. Long before the oysters were gone, we’d linked the chain that made up the past to the present.

  “So, you’re happy with Ashland Keys?” Waverly asked my sister.

  “I’m blessed beyond what I could’ve ever imagined.”

  “You beam light like Abigail once did with my brother. And you,” she turned to me, “you embody love like my brother.”

  I started to protest, but Fanny didn’t allow it.

  “Hollie’s warm and nurturing like our mother was. She sees the best in people.”

  “Thank you, Fanny,” I said.

  My sister dipped her head to acknowledge me, withdrew her napkin from her lap, and set it on her plate. “Aunt Waverly, let us help you get the dishes washed and put away.” She stood with her empty plate in her hand. “I’d like to hear everything you can remember about our dad and mom.”

  As if we’d shared simple meals together all our lives, we each went to a task. Our aunt washed the dishes in the big farmhouse sink that had a small half window facing the water. She told us our mom had often stood where Waverly was, and that when she’d come to visit our parents, she’d dried the dishes like Fanny currently did, and that her brother had put them away like I did, only it had been our mother directing him.

  “He never could seem to remember where things went,” Waverly said as she took out the stopper. The sink gurgled as the sudsy water began to drain. “We teased him about it.” Her eyes brightened with wetness. “We didn’t think much of it at the time, but it was just the beginning signs of worse that followed with him.”

  “What happened?” Fanny asked.

  “Nothing good after he sent your mother and you away, dear heart.” She took Fanny’s hand and then mine. In the middle between us, she was the bridge between the past and the present. “Let’s sit down and look at the water while I tell you.”

  We followed her out of the tiny kitchen, passed the small dining alcove, and returned to the main living space that faced the water. A boat with a spotlight at the bow and twinkling lights inside the cabin drifted past as we settled in at the new location. Fanny and I sat side by side on the brown leather couch, flanked by the warm glow of two wrought-iron lamps. Waverly sat in a comfy-looking rocker beside us and turned on a floor lamp that complemented the table lamps on either side of the couch.

  “William had an inoperable brain tumor.”

  Fanny and I reached for each other’s hands.

  Our aunt clasped her own together and leaned toward us. “It was a long time ago for me. It’s new for you to learn about it. I’m not sure if Abigail ever knew.”

  “How can that be?” I searched Waverly’s troubled gaze for answers, but she didn’t hide them. She gave us the unvarnished truth, reminding me of someone else I knew.

  “It was William’s decision not to tell her about his diagnosis. I advised against it, but he was stubborn. He let his pride decide instead of his heart. I thought it was the wrong decision then, and I believe it all these years later, given what you’ve shared about your lives. Love isn’t making a unilateral decision for someone else. It’s taking a chance. It’s being vulnerable. And often, it’s letting someone else be strong so they can realize their own power, and you can make a stand together.”

  Her words resonated within me. Wasn’t that what Diesel had been doing, was doing, letting me choose, knowing you can’t make somebody love you? They either do or they don’t. Manipulating the details won’t turn a lie into a truth.

  “Sadly, William never let Abigail have that option.” Waverly’s gaze encompassed Fanny and me. “And his two daughte
rs lost out on the opportunity—no matter how brief it might’ve been—to know a father who loved them and their mother dearly.”

  “I wasn’t born when she left,” I said softly. “I always wondered if I’d been the reason they split up.”

  It shouldn’t matter if I’d been, but it did. And it hurt to lose a father I’d never known. It hurt to be denied a foundation I think I’d always needed.

  “He knew you were on the way, sweet one, but he couldn’t obtain a divorce. Then he found out he was dying. He wanted Fanny, you, and your mother to be with him, but he wanted you provided for more. He made Abigail believe it was over between them, and then Samuel swooped in. He’d been after her the entire time he’d been directing the film she starred in. By all appearances, he seemed to be a good candidate for a husband. My brother believed he was the solution. The tumor was his death sentence, but in the end, I believe it was letting go of your mother and you two that truly killed him.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  * * *

  Hollie

  Fanny and I sat on the bed in my suite, twenty-five envelopes opened and carefully stacked while we took turns reading out loud the letters addressed to us. Well, they were addressed to Fanny and the unborn child my father had never known.

  Dearest Fanny and My Sweet Baby,

  I sit on my chair, gazing out at the water. My legs don’t work well anymore. There’s a lot of headaches most days. But today is thankfully free of pain, and I wonder what you both are doing.

  Have you become great friends? I feel like you must have. I hope that for you both. I hope you have your mother’s light inside you, and that you let it guide you. Where there is light and love, there is a way.

  I forgot that truth. I get lost inside my own head sometimes. But I know your beautiful mother remembers. I know she’ll teach you what love is, and show you too. Love without action to accompany it is like music without any sound.

  My sister is love in action. Waverly has been tirelessly kind and so very patient taking care of me. I hope you both get to meet her one day.