by Quinn, Taryn
Not that I had a handle on my emotions. I had barely come to terms with even having some, outside of the ones I needed to access to write a good song. Identifying them was way beyond my paygrade.
I just knew I was looking forward to seeing her again.
After grabbing my phone and my portfolio, I climbed out of the car and glanced toward the lake. I couldn’t see most of the water from this vantage point, but it looked so different without a layer of ice and frost. The April day was sunny and windy, with a nip in the air that necessitated a light jacket for those who weren’t hot-blooded.
As used to California as I was, I was fucking frozen. It couldn’t have been more than forty-five damn degrees, but a woman in shorts rollerbladed past me on the sidewalk.
She smiled at me, but I didn’t smile back. I didn’t know what to make of this small town charm thing. The friendliness of Crescent Cove’s citizens always slid over my skin like an ill-fitting suit. Some found California welcoming, but I was too busy working to even look around most of the time.
Here, it was impossible not to. Slowing down wasn’t optional. It was imperative.
Holy shite, there was a sailboat bobbing across the lake. Not a speedboat. A sailboat with its colorful mast billowing in the wind. My da would love such a thing. It would be a whimsical bit of fun for a man who rarely took time for anything but work. I should look into getting him one—
I tucked my portfolio under my arm and gripped my phone. What was I doing? First off, thinking of him as my da rather than simply calling him my father, even in my head. Then pondering buying him a fanciful gift. As if he’d know what to do with a sailboat. He’d probably laugh and clap my shoulder while he gently chided my impulse.
Hope you didn’t spend too much on that, boyo. You know I don’t have time for such things.
This damn town. It made a person wish. And pretend their life could be different than the way they’d purposely designed it.
The way that had worked just fine for them—nay, worked perfectly—for more than half a dozen years.
My phone buzzed in my hand. Another text from Kellan.
I see you standing outside. You sightseeing?
I sent him back a middle finger emoji and crossed the sidewalk to go into the diner.
The jangle of the bell made me swallow hard. I glanced around the place, filled to the brim with patrons on this sunny afternoon. Elvis wasn’t playing on the juke. Snow didn’t dot the windows. And Ivy didn’t come toward me wearing a smile and braids that made me think of altogether filthy things.
“Hello there. Can I help ya?” A smiling waitress—so not Ivy—rushed up to me.
My gaze drifted over the packed tables and landed on a hulking man sitting alone. He was crammed into the booth, his hood up, big can headphones over his ears. Shades and a beard disguised half of his face. No one paid him any mind as he tapped on the table with one hand and read his phone with the other.
“Meeting a friend. Thanks though.”
She followed me to the table, chattering brightly about the weather and the menu and oh, yes, had I been by the tulip fest at the Fairgrounds yet? It was such a happy little bloom of spring.
“You all have a damn lot of festivals,” I muttered as I joined Kellan.
She took my drink order and hustled off. Only then did Kellan slip off his glasses and look up.
“Finally.”
“So says the bloke who made me wait a damn month.”
We bumped fists across the table and Kellan quickly lifted his menu again when a gaggle of giggling teenage girls walked past our table. I laughed into my fist. “Nice disguise.”
“You think it’s funny. Not all of us can stroll around freely.” He tightened the strings of his hood and I laughed, louder this time.
“Did it ever occur to you that no one will care? You live close by. Surely you venture out now and then.”
“We order in a lot. Maggie’s been watching the Food Network when we can’t stand another taco.”
“Or your waistline can’t.” Kellan was rock-solid, the behemoth. “How’s the kid?”
He’d been diagnosed with an ear infection and an upper respiratory ailment, so he’d been on the mend soon after our visit a month ago. But it was nice to ask. Wolf had been a relatively cute child.
This town had cursed me.
“He’s finally better. The doc thinks with his history, we should look into putting tubes in his ears.”
“A relatively minor procedure, yeah?”
Kellan shrugged. “For the most part. Maggie is worrying herself sick. The guys are talking about maybe doing a couple of one-off shows in the fall and I’m already dreading telling her I gotta go. Then if I do some dates solo in the meantime…” He released a long breath. “Balancing act, man.”
“It’s hard with children and a spouse.”
As if I had any clue. I didn’t even have a cat. Or a houseplant. I’d bought one off Amazon and forgot to water it and it died.
“You can say that again. You seeing anybody?”
The question hit me low. “Why would you ask that?”
“Uh, I dunno, being polite?” He waved it off. “Never mind. Forgot you were Rory the Inscrutable.”
“Pardon me?”
“You gotta know that’s your rep. Untouchable, remote dude. Hit maker but doesn’t make friends.”
“That’s entirely untrue. I have friends.”
Kellan nodded. “The Kagan dude, right?”
“Yes, Ian, but not only him. I have others.” Even I could hear the defensiveness in my tone.
Kellan held up his hands, palms out. “Hey, I get it, man. Work comes first. I respect that. I respect even more that you don’t use people right and left just for thrills. Unusual in our business.”
“I’m focused.”
“Understandable. I respect that,” he repeated. “You’ve done well for yourself.”
“As have you.”
“Yeah, but I started off on the A & R side of the table myself. It’s different when you’re representing talent versus being the commodity. Gives you a new perspective.”
“And there’s Maggie and Wolf to do that as well.”
“Yes.” He smiled, so quickly that it would’ve been easy to miss if the effect hadn’t lingered in his eyes. He might not go on about them to a near-stranger, but his family provided him with a solid foundation that had changed his view.
A month ago, I hadn’t understood it. Not that I did fully now either. But here I was in Crescent Cove again, looking for Ivy around corners and peering toward the kitchen for any random glimpse of flame-red braids.
Polly, the waitress, returned with our drinks and asked for our orders. I had to get a big boy breakfast, even if Kellan cleared his throat about six times.
Whatever. At least I wasn’t wearing can headphones large enough to make Dumbo jealous.
We made small talk about how Kellan’s songwriting had been going and his current talks with his band. They hadn’t jammed together in a while, but he’d invited them all out to the cabin this summer. He also invited me—and Ian, who I hadn’t realized he knew on any more than a casual basis. The rock business was pretty damn incestuous. That was how I’d met Ian in the first place, after all.
“His fiancée is pregnant, so I’m not sure how he’ll be with traveling this summer. She’s due soon, I think.” Even as I said the words, they shocked me all over again.
Ian was younger than me, and he hadn’t even drawn a short straw in Crescent Cove. He’d actually—wait for it—planned and hoped for and actively tried to plant one in his not-even wife. And he’d succeeded in remarkable time.
“So, he can bring her along too. And the kid. Wolf could use a pal.” Kellan shrugged, pausing as Polly returned with our food. Quick service in this place. “We keep adding on. We’ll need more guest rooms at this rate.”
“You can actually meet his fiancée before you invite them to stay for a week. Zoe’s family owns Happy Acres.” I
circled my finger over the table. “In your milieu here, isn’t it?”
Kellan dropped a French fry in his cup of salad dressing on the side and didn’t seem to notice. “No shit? Wolf loves that place. We do the hayrides up there in the fall.”
“I’ve never been. Ian is there now spending time with his new family-to-be. Said it was kismet or some rubbish that I was meeting you here.” I rolled my eyes and forked up sausage. I sampled it, deciding right away it wasn’t as good as Ivy’s.
Surprise, surprise.
“So, you’re going up?”
“I didn’t make any plans. I came here to work with you, not run off on jaunts to the country.” Not that Crescent Cove was exactly a metropolis.
Kellan chuckled. “Dude, I respect your work ethic, but you know, loosen your shorts now and then.” He saluted me with his coffee cup. “Life’s more enjoyable that way.”
“My shorts are not too tight.”
At least they wouldn’t be until I saw Ivy again.
A low hum buzzed under my skin. Where was she? Day off? Vacation?
Had she met some new man and run away to Paris?
Gee, fanciful much?
After plowing through his salad, Kellan shoved the plate aside and went to work on his sandwich. He didn’t say anything while I poked at my potatoes and wished they’d been made by a red-haired siren rather than a kindly older woman.
“You know what I did last time I was here?”
“Yeah, you worked with me.”
“Before and after. Let’s just say I wasn’t alone.” I stabbed a sausage. “My shorts were all the way loose then, let me tell you.”
He winced and held up a hand. “TMI, bro. It wasn’t an insult. Really. Just saying you come across the country, you should make time to see your buddy if you’re able to.” He jerked a shoulder. “If not, no harm, no foul.”
I forced down some sausage. It had a nice flavor, but I wasn’t thinking about food. I was thinking about Ivy, and how I was in her town and had no fucking way to contact her unless I sat here in this diner day and night. And that was if she even wanted to see me again.
A lot could change in a month.
Your fault, genius. You were the one who wanted to keep it simple.
I tended to do that too often. I didn’t know how to foster connections with people outside of a work sphere. Even Ian was only my friend because he’d practically shoved himself into my life. I certainly hadn’t opened the door. Although he had a family of his own now, he still made time for me, but I usually didn’t feel it necessary to return the favor.
I didn’t like family scenes, and Happy Acres pretty much screamed family. Hayrides, for feck’s sake? It wasn’t autumn, but that wasn’t an activity that stirred me in any case. The spring equivalent was probably riding ponies and looking for Easter eggs.
God save me.
“We could go there to work, if you’d like.” This person speaking was not me. I’d been invaded by a Crescent Cove body snatcher.
Right now, my alien invader was gaining strength from Polly’s sausage. Which sounded wholly inappropriate.
Kellan sat back in the booth, probably to catch his breath. He’d demolished his food in the same amount of time it had taken me to eat some sausage and a few potatoes. I grabbed a piece of bacon and bit in, sighing inwardly. Definitely not Ivy’s bacon either.
I was becoming obsessed with that woman, and it probably wasn’t due to the deliciousness of her pork products.
“Sure.”
“That’s it? No artistic hissy fit about needing your space to compose?”
Kellan tipped back his head and laughed. “I brought some stuff to get your input on, but we’re still in the early phases yet. It was cool that you got to work at the board during our last visit, but we’ll have time for that later. Besides, I wouldn’t mind meeting Ian. Assuming you’d be willing to introduce us.”
So, he didn’t know Ian. Yet he’d extended an invitation to stay with him sight unseen. Oh, to have so much faith.
“That could probably be arranged. I should probably check with him before I invite you out. Hang on.” I pulled out my phone and was halfway through typing a text when a flash of red moved past the corner of my eye. My head jerked up and another part of me jerked to life.
It couldn’t be her. A million women had red hair. But not that exact shade. Not those long braids hanging down over her kelly green coat.
The woman walked past our table, not glancing our way at all. I didn’t think. I reached out and snagged her back pocket with two fingers—tearing off the patch of fabric with a rip that seemed to sound through the diner.
Well, hmm, it never happened like that in the movies.
On the positive side, I could now see her underwear, since her pocket had a hole in it. Just a tiny little peek of pink. Christ, I should be jailed.
She whirled, a fist coming up. Her deep brown eyes flared wide and then her mouth dropped open. “Lucky Charms?”
Across from me, Kellan’s expression changed from shock to amusement. “Thank God you know her, because I don’t have enough cash on me for bail.”
“Lucky Charms?” Ivy repeated, stepping forward. Her gaze lingered on my face for a beat too long before dropping to my plate. “You’re eating a big boy breakfast.”
I nodded mutely. This second meeting was not going like I’d planned.
Or hoped.
“That Polly made you,” she said accusingly, and I blinked.
“Sorry?”
Laughter broke out behind our booth and Ivy looked over her shoulder, wrenching her neck to check out her own very fine ass. She sighed. “Least I’m wearing undies,” she said loud enough for half the diner to join in with her laughter.
Even I laughed. This woman was a wonder.
Instead of yelling at me as she had every right to do, she leaned across the booth and wrapped her arms around me in a quick, unexpected hug. I reached up to hold on, shocked at how much I didn’t want to let her go.
She felt right in my arms. I hadn’t realized exactly how perfect until I’d gone four weeks without her.
“Next time,” she said against my ear, “just say hi.” Her tongue flicked over my neck a second before she eased back and was gone.
I cleared my throat and sat back, barely able to resist cupping a hand over the wet spot on my throat—or shifting to alleviate the pressure down below.
Kellan was stirring his coffee, as calm as could be. Neither of us spoke. Then I picked up my phone to complete my text to Ian.
Looked like I’d be inviting someone else to Happy Acres too. If she would be interested in coming.
Jesus, I needed to make her come again.
To the farm.
Just the farm.
“So, Lucky Charms, I’m gonna guess she’s the one.”
“Come again?”
I was too busy staring at my screen and trying to get my thumbs to work enough to compose a message.
“She didn’t even look at me.”
I glanced up. “So?” I stared at Kellan for a long moment and got his drift even if I didn’t like it. His disguise didn’t hide the rockstar bad-ass persona oozing from his veins—or his massive size.
“It’s a good thing,” he continued. “Just saying it doesn’t happen often. She only had eyes for you.”
I set down my phone. “She did, yeah?”
Without another look at my phone, I sent my message. And looked down to see I’d texted the following to Ian.
Hey, Kellan McGuire and dii390dn might want to come with.
I had to grin at my thick thumbs. If anyone could make me forget how to type, it was Ivy.
Ian’s reply was almost instantaneous.
Dii390dn wants to come? Sounds like a screen name. Visiting Tinder again, mate?
Jackass. Typo. My friend’s name is Ivy.
Oh, is it now? And she wants to come, does she?
He was such a smartass. I was tempted to give him a middle finger emoj
i and just forget asking Ivy, except I wanted her with me. I wanted to spend more time with her. And if I had to get straw up my ass, I wanted her to be the one who caused it.
There was a sentiment one didn’t often find on a greeting card.
You’ll still be there tomorrow?
Yes, question is, will you be? Don’t you keep your trips to see Kellan short?
This one is a day longer.
Ooooh, wild man. Look at you go.
Keep it up & I’ll deny you the pleasure of my company.
In all seriousness, I’d love to see you. It’s been too long & we’re always headed in opposite directions lately. Not sure when we’ll be able to get back to Flynn’s for some R&R.
I blew out a breath. Ian and I had spent some time with another guy I’d worked with on occasion, Flynn Sheppard, last summer and it had cemented our friendship.
Since then, we’d seen each other here and there, and I’d sat in with his band a few times when he needed an extra hand on the guitar. But I hadn’t made the time.
I hadn’t wanted the expectation that I was supposed to.
“Problem with Happy Acres?” Kellan’s affable tone set my teeth on edge.
“No. Everything is coming up fucking roses.”
The song on the jukebox changed. As soon as I heard the first notes of “The Wonder of You” and saw Ivy’s grin as she snapped on her apron over a fresh pair of pants, my irritation at…what, I wasn’t even sure, vanished.
I switched apps on my phone and brought up a notepad one, writing in big block text. Then I held up the phone in her direction.
See you after work?
She squinted for a moment before nodding and grinning.
I returned her grin and glanced at Kellan, who was turning back from the direction I’d been looking in with his own smile.
“Don’t say a word,” I said, pointing at him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. So, what time should I be at Happy Acres tomorrow?”