by Jen Gilroy
Annie couldn’t help herself. She stared after him, feasting her gaze on all that hot masculinity. It was so unfair. She only had to look at a cupcake, and she put on half a pound, but although he inhaled Tara’s signature butter tarts and almost everything else that came out of the bakery kitchen, there wasn’t an ounce of spare flesh on him. Well-worn jeans hugged his hips, and a white T-shirt sculpted that toned chest. Below the jeans, his feet were bare, and his dark hair was damp and tousled like he’d just showered.
“What’s up?” He turned around and came back to the sofa with the guitar case. He waited for her to sit and then sat beside her.
“Nothing.” She straightened and kept the music folder between them.
“Is it singing new songs for me?” His mouth curved into a heart-melting smile. “You know how much I love ‘My Hometown Heart.’”
She flushed and fumbled with the guitar case. “What if it’s a one-off?”
“I doubt it, but so what if you’re a one-hit wonder? Isn’t that better than being a no-hit wonder?” His voice was amused.
“I guess so.” She picked up the guitar and cradled it. “It’s not only the singing.” Although, whenever she thought about trusting Seth enough to share more of her music with him, she still almost broke out in a cold sweat.
“Is Hannah giving you grief?” His tone turned warm and comforting.
“Not really, but I have this feeling.” She linked her fingers together. “I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s not right with her. I thought being in the talent show would help, and it did, but still . . .”
“Maternal intuition.” Seth’s smile was rueful. “Even though Dylan’s mom wasn’t around much while he was growing up, he could never get anything past her. Me, on the other hand.” He shrugged. “I was an easier mark.”
“I used to think I understood Hannah, but this spring, she’s changed.” A heaviness lodged in Annie’s stomach. “Whenever I try to talk to her, she shuts me out. At first I thought it was only about her not wanting to go to college, but now it seems to be about everything. And since the talent show, she’s withdrawn again.”
“Have you talked to your mom or your sisters?”
“I can’t.” So why had she found it so easy to open up to him? “Mom’s worried about Duncan, and Rowan’s divorce is hitting her hard. As for Tara, she and Adam couldn’t have kids. She’d give anything to have a child, so if she heard me complaining about mine . . . I don’t want to hurt her.” She fingered the guitar pick and didn’t look at him.
“We both know teenagers go through phases. Look what I’ve been going through with Dylan.” Seth pulled Annie into the crook of his arm. “From what I’ve seen, Hannah’s a good kid.”
“She is, but Duncan getting sick has upset her more than she lets on. The two of them are close. She never knew my dad, and since she never knew her dad, either, Duncan is somewhere between a grandfather and a father. If he should die . . .” Annie squeezed her eyes tight shut.
“Don’t even think that.” Seth’s voice was his radio voice—deep, rich, and reassuring.
“I know, but sometimes I can’t help it. Like I know Hannah’s hurting, but I can’t seem to help her.”
“The recording session might be good for her.” He cupped her chin. “Good for both of you. And for you, it could be the first step in a new career.”
“I don’t think—”
“So, don’t.” Seth’s face was inches from hers. Tiny laugh lines fanned out around his eyes, and he smelled of clean laundry, mint toothpaste, and fresh air. “You’re talented, and I won’t be the only one to think so. Whatever happened in Nashville and at Belmont, you didn’t fail. You gave it your best shot, and now you’ve got Hannah, who you wouldn’t trade for any number of hit songs. If you ask me, you’re right where you’re supposed to be. It’s all about perspective.”
Warmth suffused Annie’s body, and she felt lighter, almost carefree. “How did you get to be so smart, city guy?”
“The same way you did.” Seth’s laugh rumbled. “When life kicks you in the butt, it gives you lessons for free.”
She’d always have regrets, but maybe she wouldn’t trade the lessons she’d learned because without them, she wouldn’t be here with this man. She had to look forward, not back. “Do you want to hear more of my tunes?” She reached for the folder and pulled sheets of her handwritten music out of it.
“I thought you’d never ask.” He smiled as he set up a music stand.
She took a deep breath, stood, and launched into a song she’d written the day after the fundraiser when she’d been high on Seth’s kisses and adrenaline. As she moved from one piece to the next, she let the notes carry her away from the apartment to that place beyond herself where music always took her.
When she finally stopped, the room swam back into focus and Seth still sat on the sofa unmoving. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and patted Dolly, who must have gotten up beside him while she’d been singing.
Blood rushed through her. Maybe her songs weren’t as good as she thought and he was trying to find a nice way to tell her.
He leaned forward and stared at her like he’d never seen her before. “I’m guessing you didn’t write those kinds of songs when you were in Nashville.”
“No. Back then, I didn’t know who I was, and I was embarrassed about where I came from. I’m not that girl anymore.” She hugged the guitar.
“I’m glad you aren’t.” His eyes went wide and he gave her a big smile. “Those songs are like a breath of fresh air. Don’t ever doubt yourself again. Even though I like what I heard, we’ve still got work to do to get ready for the recording session. This is your chance, Annie. Grab it with both hands, hold tight, and see where the ride takes you.”
At his words, the last of the fear she’d carried deep inside for so many years loosened and disintegrated, to be replaced by excitement and new confidence. “Then what are we waiting for? I’ll work as hard as I need to. I won’t let you down.”
“As if you could ever do that. I—”
Annie’s phone rang and cut off whatever Seth had been about to say. “Hold that thought.” She reached behind Dolly to pull the phone from her purse where she’d left it on the sofa. “Hey, Hannah.” She listened, trying to make sense of words that made no sense. “You what? Where?” She went cold, and her heart raced. “I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
Seth took her arm, and she swayed toward him. “What is it? Is Hannah hurt?”
“Not as far as I know.” Her voice hitched, and she could barely breathe. “She’s at the police station on the other side of the mountain. She and the friend she was supposed to be studying with somehow ended up with an eighteen-year-old kid driving drunk. The police found them in a ditch twelve miles outside of town.”
“What about her friend and the driver?” Seth’s words came out in an urgent staccato.
“I think they’re okay, but I don’t . . . she . . . I don’t have any details.” Her body shook. “Why would she—? She could have been killed. I have to go.”
A set of keys jingled. “I’ll drive you.” Seth still had a hold of her arm.
She set the guitar aside and put a hand to her head. “What if Hannah was drinking, too? What if there was open alcohol in the car? Isn’t that illegal?”
“Usually.” His voice was grim. “Here.” He handed her purse to her, and Dolly’s cold nose nudged her arm. “Shoes?”
“By the door.” She shoved her feet into them, while he found his own shoes and clipped a leash on Dolly.
“What if Hannah gets a criminal record?” Annie gulped. “She’s got her whole life ahead of her.”
“She’s lucky. It’s still ahead of her.” Seth shepherded her out of the apartment and locked both the apartment and station doors behind them. “Don’t panic until you know all th
e facts. What exactly did she say?”
“Apart from the accident, that she’s at the police station and needs me to pick her up.” The warm wind cut across her face as she stumbled across the station parking lot toward Seth’s truck.
“All kids do dumb things at one time or another.” His hand covered hers in a brief caress as he helped her into the truck, and Dolly followed. “It sounds like this one could have been a whole lot worse.”
It could, but right now, Annie couldn’t think about that. A black cloud of fear pressed down to smother her. She wrapped a hand around Dolly’s collar and closed her eyes as the truck engine came to life.
She had so many hopes for Hannah—so many dreams. She’d kept her safe for almost seventeen years. All she’d worried about was Todd somehow finding them. She’d never imagined something like this.
She opened her eyes again as the truck hit a pothole in front of the elementary school. It seemed like yesterday Hannah had gone there every morning with her princess backpack and matching lunchbox, waving before she got on the school bus. How could everything have gone so wrong?
Chapter 16
“Are you hungry?” Seth studied Annie perched on the edge of a straight-backed chair in a small office at the police station. Her face was gray and pinched. “There’s chicken noodle soup in the vending machine.”
“I can’t eat anything.” She rubbed her arms. “Hannah?”
The teen shook her head. Slumped in a chair beside Annie, a reddish bruise ran along one side of her jaw.
“Drink something then. Tea, a soda, or more coffee?” He gestured to the sludge-like brew in a Star Wars mug on the table in front of her.
“No.” She put a hand to her mouth.
Seth’s belly knotted. Dylan had made his share of mistakes, but so far not one like this. He stared out the window behind the table. Gray clouds massed above the mountain, and wind stirred the branches of the pine trees beyond the parking lot. His truck was parked outside, and Dolly’s head poked through the partially-open window.
“I screwed up.” Hannah rolled the hem of her T-shirt up and down. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, and I’m not mad. Disappointed in your behavior? Yes. Scared, too.” Annie let out a long breath. “And what I still don’t get is why you got into a car with a kid who’d been drinking? You told me you were going to Natalie’s to study.”
“I was. It just happened.” Hannah squirmed on the chair. “Zach drove by and saw us on the porch. When he asked if we wanted to go for a ride, we thought it would only be in town. We didn’t know he’d been drinking then.”
“But as soon as you did, why didn’t you tell him to stop the car so you could get out? Or call the police or me? That’s the biggest reason why you have a phone.” Annie’s chin trembled. “If that wasn’t an emergency, I don’t know what was.”
“I couldn’t. I’d have looked stupid.” Hannah grimaced.
“Better stupid than dead.” Annie’s voice faltered.
Hannah flushed and darted a glance at Seth. “I thought you’d be busy.”
“How could you think I’d ever be too busy for you?”
“Forget it.” Hannah tucked her chin into her chest.
“How can I?” Annie massaged her temples. “I’m so thankful you’re okay, but you could have . . . and on Sunday afternoon.”
“Would it have been better if it was Saturday night?” Hannah worried her bottom lip.
“Of course not.” Annie’s expression tensed. “But I thought you had more sense, and even if you didn’t see alcohol in the car, didn’t you smell it? Zach was so far over the legal limit, it’s a wonder he even made it out of town, let alone all the way over here.”
“We wanted to have some fun.”
“Fun? When did driving drunk become fun for you?” Annie’s voice rose.
“Zach’s cute, and he’s a senior. He has a football scholarship to Penn State.” Hannah mumbled the words.
“According to one of the officers out there, Zach likely has a leg fracture to remind him of his stupidity and keep him off any football field for a good long while, as well as a court case in his future for underage drinking and driving under the influence. And Natalie might have broken her wrist.” Annie covered her face with her hands.
Seth winced. “I’ll go out to the waiting room. You two need your privacy.” And he shouldn’t be in the middle of someone else’s family drama. Maybe he should have stayed in the waiting room to begin with, but until they found out what was going on with Hannah, he didn’t want to leave Annie alone.
She lifted her head. “Maybe we do, but you can’t go out there. By now, that waiting room will be full of Quinns, Quinns by marriage, and a bunch of McEvoys—that was Mom’s maiden name. They all live nearby, and if you go out there, it’ll be as good as a deer wandering into camp in hunting season.”
Seth pressed a hand to his temple. “We haven’t been here long so how—”
“A few minutes after we went into the ditch, a couple of Grandma’s cousins drove by and stopped. They called the police.” Hannah’s voice was small. “They’d have called a few people, and then they’d have called other people . . .” She stopped and bowed her head. “Nothing is ever private for long around here. I made a fool of myself, and Mom too.”
“Oh, honey.” Annie gave Hannah a faint smile. “It’s not so bad we can’t fix it. At least the beer was in the trunk and you weren’t drinking. I don’t like what you did today, but I still love you.”
“Despite everything, you got lucky, kiddo.” It wasn’t as if Seth hadn’t done dumb things in high school, but the only consequences had been extra chores and a few detentions here and there.
“But everyone else . . .” Hannah’s gaze darted to the door. “I don’t want to face them.” She slid farther down in the chair.
“Then you don’t have to. At least not right now.” Seth couldn’t change what had happened, but maybe he could make things a bit better than they were. “There has to be a back door. While you wait for the rest of the paperwork, I’ll find out.”
Annie’s eyes softened. “Thanks. I don’t really want to face everyone myself right now.”
His gaze held hers for a long moment and something shifted near his heart. “Sit tight. I’ll be back soon. I spotted another office at the end of the hall so I can avoid the waiting room.” But even if he had to walk through fifty waiting rooms filled with Annie’s family, it didn’t matter. Family or not, anybody who said anything bad about her or Hannah would have to deal with him.
“Okay.” Her voice was low. “Thanks for being here for us.”
“Thank you from me too.” Several tears rolled down Hannah’s bruised face.
“No problem.” Adrenaline surged through Seth’s body. Not only had Todd treated Annie like dirt, but he hadn’t wanted a baby who’d become this precious girl.
He moved to the office door on unsteady legs. He wanted to help Annie and protect her, but this was a whole lot more than that. Love. The word zinged through him and left him breathless. He couldn’t be falling in love with her, could he?
He pushed open the door and stepped into the institutional beige hallway then pressed a hand to his chest. He thought he’d loved Amanda, but he hadn’t, not really, and she hadn’t loved him, either. The two of them had been kids caught up in a rush of sex, music, and dreams of a glittering future.
Grown-up love was different. It was quieter, steadier, and there in good times and bad. His skin tingled, and his heart raced. When he’d thought about finding out where things might go with Annie, he’d never considered it could take him somewhere this serious. Somewhere that felt a whole lot like a real family, home, and commitment—everything he’d never thought he’d have.
~ ~ ~
Annie hesitated outside Hannah’s c
losed bedroom door. In the silent house, the late-afternoon sun made a checkerboard pattern on the sloping pine floor of the upstairs hall. Five days after the accident, her daughter still only spoke to her when she had to and, when she wasn’t at school, had spent most of her time holed up in her bedroom under the eaves.
Taking a deep breath, Annie tapped on the door.
“What?” Her daughter’s voice was wary.
“I want to talk to you.” Annie’s chest had a fluttery feeling and her muscles constricted.
“What about?”
“I’m not talking to you through a closed door.” Her mom had told her parenting a teenage girl was tough, but until now, she hadn’t realized how tough.
The door swung inward, and her daughter’s face appeared on the other side. The bruises from the accident had faded to a yellowish-purple, but Annie worried more about the emotional wounds.
“Thank you.” Annie moved into the room. Instead of its usual state of untidiness, it was almost painfully neat. Only the rumpled teal comforter and pair of mismatched socks in the middle of the floor disturbed the pristine order.
“Whatever.” Hannah went to the window, turned her back on Annie, and stared into the backyard.
Annie wrung her hands. “Your room looks . . . different . . . good.”
The teen gave an exaggerated shrug.
“I’ve said I’m not mad at you for what happened, but we have to talk about it.” More importantly, they had to talk about Hannah’s throwaway comment at the police station about Annie being too busy for her. The angry words had lodged in Annie’s heart like a poisoned arrow and, each time she relived them, the poison seeped deeper and hardened into her soul.
“Why?” Hannah half turned from the window and, mixed with her sulky expression, was defensiveness and maybe even fear. “Wasn’t it enough you took away my phone and grounded me so I missed the class pool party?”