Fifteen years later
Cole Jackson sat in the suite his band BlackJack reserved at the Four Seasons in Boston. Every muscle in his body was tense, making it difficult to pick away on his acoustic guitar. He hated to admit it to himself, or anyone else but nerves plagued him like hell. Not nerves exactly, more precisely he was scared shitless. Tonight BlackJack opened their tour in Boston, and Cole’s thoughts were filled with insecurities about how he’d be received. He swallowed, hoping to stop the waves sloshing inside his stomach, causing him to gag. If he kept any food down today, it would be a miraculous occurrence.
He worried about what people saw when they looked at him. Did they see a killer? Or did they see a man who had some bad luck? It shouldn’t matter one way or another to him, but it did. If only he could adopt that, who gives a shit what anyone thinks, attitude. Fifteen years in prison for second degree murder had destroyed his self-esteem and self-respect. There was nothing like going to jail for something you didn’t do.
All his friends, the close few he allowed near, kept telling him to talk about his ordeal, get it out in the open, and things would improve. His soul would heal. Like hell it would. People would just know what he went through. He had no intentions of letting the entire world experience prison life through his eyes. So, he buried the memories in the recesses of his mind, never to be dug up.
Tonight, a new chapter of his life would begin. He was back playing his music, his life’s dream. During his days in jail he had hoped and prayed to play again someday, but he’d never thought it would happen. And truth be told, there were days during his prison confinement he surprised himself by seeing another sunrise. So here he sat, his favorite guitar cradled in his arms, his fingers gripping the pick like a vise, and the music he usually played so effortlessly sounding like crap.
“Hey, Cole.” AJ Macleod, BlackJack’s bass guitarist, back-up vocalist and also Cole’s best friend, charged into the band’s suite. “You won’t believe who’s signing books at the Prudential Center today.”
Cole glanced up, not the least bit interested. His mind heavily centered on tonight’s concert and trying to keep his body from jumping out of its skin. He finally asked, knowing AJ wouldn’t leave until he had his say. “Who?”
“Guess? And ah’ll give ye a hint—ye read all her books.”
“Shit, AJ. I don’t have time for your games. Just give me the damn name of the bloody writer.”
His friend grinned from ear to ear. “Shannon Gallagher.”
Cole caught his guitar moments before it hit the floor.
“Thought that might get ye.” AJ chuckled. “Man, ye should see yer face. Stunned doesn’t even begin to describe it. Ah’m heading over tae the bookstore, wanna tag along?”
Cole thought about it for all of one second. He had kept a low profile since his release from prison, and he and AJ together might cause people to recognize them. He couldn’t face all the questions and looks that would be directed toward him. Someday he would have to face it, but not today. He just couldn’t do it. All his energy and emotional charge needed to be focused on tonight. Getting through this concert was crucial. If he survived it, his first public appearance since going to prison, he could survive the rest of the concert tour and possibly the rest of his life.
He had to admit though, the name kick-started his pulse and made him curious to what she—he shook his head. “I appreciate the invite, AJ, but I’m staying put...ah, lying low.” He settled in with his guitar once again. “Just going to strum my Betty here and try to relax.”
AJ shrugged. “Suit yourself, man. But ah hear she’s quite a looker.”
As Cole watched AJ leave, loneliness slammed into him. “Stupid idiot,” he muttered to himself. He should have gone. It would have done him good to get his mind off tonight.
Shannon Gallagher had driven Route 3 from her home in Standish Bay, heading north to Hingham to pick up her sixteen-year-old son, Cameron at her ex-husband’s house. Tonight she was surprising him with tickets to a BlackJack concert at the Garden so it made sense for him to tag along on a book signing she had at the Prudential. He could shop around and kill time, something teenagers were good at. She could hardly wait to see her son’s expression when she waved the tickets in front of his eyes, not to mention they were spending the night in Boston. A city they both loved.
She had been signing books for one full hour and riddled with guilt for the people still waiting in line. It humbled and amazed her when people came to see her and buy her books. She would never take it for granted. One day success existed and the next puff, it vanished right along with health and happiness. Fortunately for her, she’d been blessed with all three so she never understood the unsettledness and yearning that nagged her at times. She daydreamed and reached out constantly for something that eluded her. She had a notion what it was and wondered if it would ever be close enough to grasp.
Someone cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up into the eyes—well she would have looked at his eyes, if he wasn’t wearing dark sunglasses—of a tall man with shoulder-length brown hair and a mustache. He wore jeans and a black leather jacket. She quickly apologized for not paying attention. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered.”
He smiled and handed Shannon her newest book. “Quite all right, luv. Ye’ve been busy.” He glanced at his watch. “Ah think ah’ve been queued up in line for forty-five minutes.” He paused and took in the crowd. “Nice turnout.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”
“Not a problem, ah’ve nothing pressing.”
Shannon flipped the book open to the title page and glanced back to the gentleman with the foreign accent. “Are you from England?”
“Not originally, no, but ah used tae live there. ah’m from Scotland.”
“Ah. I’ve been once. It’s beautiful.”
“Aye. That it is.”
“Is this book for you?” she asked, pen in hand.
He shook his head. “No, luv, it’s for a good friend. His name is Cole, spelled C.O.L.E. He’s a big fan of yers. He’s back at the hotel. Ah couldn’t convince him tae come.”
She signed the book with her curvy, Parochial school penmanship. Cole, you need to get out more. But if you’re going to stay in, you’ve picked a great book to keep you company. Enjoy, Shannon Gallagher.
The Scottish man laughed as he read what she wrote. “He’ll like that. Thank ye.”
She smiled. “Thank you and I hope your friend enjoys the book.”
He took off his glasses and winked at her. “He’ll enjoy it, luv. He reads all yer books. Good day.”
“Good day,” she replied with a touch of Scottish accent in her voice as it was contagious not to do so.
Shannon’s eyes followed the man out of the store. There was something vaguely familiar about him. But, oh well, she didn’t have time to ponder it now, she still had a line of people waiting to meet her, and she didn’t want to keep anyone waiting longer than necessary.
At two-fifteen, Cameron returned from meandering through the shops inside the Prudential Center just as Shannon completed signing the last book. As they left the bookstore, she spotted the Scottish gentleman approaching. Once again she had a nagging feeling he looked familiar.
He again removed his glasses and glanced from her to Cameron and back. “Excuse me, ah dinnae mean tae intrude, but ah hoped maybe ye, if ye dinnae have any plans for this evening—”
“I’m sorry,” Shannon interrupted him. This would spoil her surprise. But, oh well, she had to tell him sometime. “I’m taking my son to the BlackJack concert.”
Cameron yelled and picked her up for a crushing hug. “Mom, how did you? The concert’s been sold out forever!”
“I can’t breathe, and I have my sources,” she choked out.
He let her go quickly. “Sorry.”
Shannon turned to the man. “I’m sorry. If you’ll excuse us, we must be going.” She offered him her hand.
He surprised her by holding it tightly cradled between both of his. “So ye like BlackJack?”
Smiling, she studied him, trying to read his expression. He seemed amused at something. “Yes, I do. My son, Cameron, as well. We’re huge fans.”
“Ah’m AJ Macleod. Ye signed the book ah bought today for Cole Jackson.”
Shannon’s pulse jumped. She removed her hand from AJ’s and placed it on her speeding heart. Cole Jackson read her books, the Cole Jackson. Oh my, she locked her knees before they buckled and she collapsed to the floor.
Cameron looked at her. “Mom, are you okay? Did you hear what he said? You signed a book for Cole Jackson and he is...oh shit man...you’re AJ, bass guitarist. I thought you looked like him...but...you’re really him?”
AJ laughed. “Aye, that’s me. Listen, Cole doesn’t get out much, and he’d be thrilled if ye came by the hotel tae meet him. We’re staying at the Four Seasons.”
“So are we,” she breathed, hardly believing this conversation.
“We are?” Cameron asked, sounding even more shocked than before.
“Perfect. We’re in suite 526, come on up and visit before the concert. We usually have a jam session tae loosen up and relax, then a light dinner.” He turned to leave, paused, pivoted back and looked right into her eyes, his green ones hypnotic. “Please say ye’ll come, luv.”
How could she not? If not for her, but for Cameron who would positively hate her if she refused. “I...um...yes, I suppose we will,” she answered, her voice sounding distant and nervous to her own ears.
As they drove to the hotel, Cameron never shut up. She didn’t remember the last time she heard him talk so much or be so excited about something.
“Do you think they’ll mind if I bring my guitar?”
“I suppose not,” she replied, hoping it was true.
Shannon pulled up in front of the hotel, handed the keys over to the valet parking attendant and waited as their bags were unloaded. After checking in, they went up to their room so Shannon could change. She removed her pantsuit and slid into her favorite jeans, sweater and black leather boots. After she brushed her long brown hair, her teeth, and touched up her makeup her hand flew to her stomach as her insides churned. Her body trembled in fear and excitement knowing that minutes from now she would meet Cole Jackson in person. Her dream come true since she was sixteen and BlackJack first hit the music scene. She took a drink of water and prayed she didn’t embarrass herself and throw up during her introduction to him.
Now she stood with Cameron, outside the door to suite 526, and on the other side stood her idol. Okay, so she was a little old to have an idol, but he was something. The sound of someone singing and playing guitar drifted through the door. Cole. She reached out with an unsteady hand to knock on the door, only to pull back and groan. “Cameron, I don’t know if I can. I’ve always wanted to meet him. What if I make a fool of myself?”
Cameron shot her a teenager’s exasperated look, complete with an eye roll. “Mom, get real. You’re like the coolest Mom ever.”
Before she had a chance to flee, Cameron knocked on the door, it flung open, and her stomach took a silent tumble. AJ greeted them with a warm smile and stepped aside, sweeping his arm out. “Welcome.”
Shannon scanned the room anxiously, until she found Cole, sitting on the arm of a couch, strumming an acoustic guitar. Her lungs constricted and she couldn’t breathe, nor could she tear her eyes off him. He was mesmerizing. She drank in every detail she could make out from this vantage point. His dark blond hair was pulled off his face, and he sported the in-fashion five o’clock shadow. She also noticed some hard lines on his face he didn’t have in his twenties. He didn’t look like a pretty boy anymore. Oh, no—he looked better—much better. Older, more handsome, and she detected a vulnerability most people might not see, but she had a trained eye for detail. He wore old jeans with holes at the knees, a plain black T-shirt that hugged his ripped body and black leather boots all scuffed and well broken in. She knew from his pictures he was tall, but she never imagined the muscles rippling in his arms as he played his guitar.
“Mom, you’re staring,” Cameron whispered.
“Huh, what?” she said, coming out of her daze. “Oh God, I was. I was staring.”
AJ chuckled. “Cole has that affect on women. Come, let me introduce ye.”
Shannon stepped back and shook her head. “No, I can’t.”
AJ’s easy going expression turned to confusion. “Why not, ’tis not because...?”
Shannon placed her hands on her scalding cheeks. “Oh God, no, it’s just, well, like he’s been my fantasy man since I was sixteen. I wouldn’t know what to say. Just listen to me now. I sound like a moron.” Where was the person who wrote so eloquently? Cole had been her fantasy man. Having married her ex-husband John McKenzie at seventeen because she was pregnant with Cameron had her growing up fast. Times were tough. She coped by either submersing herself fully into being Cameron’s mother, putting her stories to paper or engrossing in BlackJack music and dreaming about Cole.
AJ curled his large, warm hand around her elbow and tugged her along with him. “Aye, he’s every woman’s fantasy. But let me tell ye.” He lowered his voice several octaves. “Cole’s extremely shy. He’ll be as nervous as ye.” He wiggled his brows at her and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “If ye tell him ah said that luv, I’ll deny it.”
They waited off to the side until Cole finished his song. So tuned into his music, Shannon figured he probably didn’t even know anyone else breathed in the room with him. Watching him now brought back memories of his trial and how she never believed he was guilty. Her eyes had been glued to the television set, since it was broadcast live, and nothing anyone said could persuade her Cole could kill his wife. Something had seemed wrong. The jury had blinders on because the quiet, grieving young man on trial screamed innocence out of every pore in his dejected body.
Cole spotted the beautiful, tall brunette the minute she stepped into the suite, causing his pulse to kick up several notches. He had a way of playing his music and being aware of every minute detail that went on around him with no one knowing it. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It would come to him in due time. He had a great memory, and he never forgot a face. At least he didn’t think he’d forget one as gorgeous as hers.
She arrived with a tall, gangly teenager carrying a guitar. As AJ led them over, he pretended to be engrossed in his music and fought to control the rampart beat of his heart. AJ would never interrupt him in the middle of a song, which was good. It enabled him to study the woman more closely. She seemed fairly young. Maybe late twenties or early thirties, and her son, or younger brother, accompanied her, as the resemblance was uncanny.
His body sizzled as he drank in her appearance. A tight black sweater molded perfectly shaped breasts, faded jeans enhanced her mile-long legs causing him to groan and think about them wrapped around his waist. Where did that thought come from? Black boots poked out from the frayed bottoms of her jeans. He snorted. They dressed alike, he and this beautiful stranger.
When he strummed his last chord, he looked straight at her and was bombarded with the most incredible blue eyes ever. She smiled at him and blushed. It warmed his insides, and he couldn’t help but smile back.
“Cole.” AJ came forward. “Ah’d like ye to meet Shannon Gallagher and her son, Cameron.”