Chapter Five

 

Caleigh

 

I spent Sunday with my parents and Hardin for our usual roast dinner. Then yesterday, I busted my ass at the pub.

Tonight it’s karaoke, so I’m prepared with ear plugs just in case. Not that I could bring myself to tell the regulars they can’t sing, and actually some of them can. But there are others that can’t hold a tune, usually because they’re steaming drunk. One shot of liquid courage turns into more, and by that time they’re slurring their words when they sing. All good fun, I suppose. But you wouldn’t catch me dead on that stage.

“Hey, Caleigh, we got any more slimline tonic water? I can’t see any on the shelf,” Deb says from behind me.

Well, that’s unusual; we normally have plenty.

“Let me go check out the back.”

The stock room is dark, so I turn on the light and search for more slimline tonic. It’s got to be in here somewhere.

“Whatcha looking for?” Damien’s voice booms from over my shoulder, making me jump out of my skin.

“Jeez, boss, give a girl a heart attack why don’t you?!”

“Sorry, Caleigh,” he says with a smile and eyes that show contrition. “Can I help you find something?”

“Slimline tonic. We’re out behind the bar.”

“Shit! I forgot to get any at the wholesaler,” he says as he scrubs a hand over his face in frustration.

“It’s okay, boss. I’ll pop to the shop and see what they have.”

“Thanks, Caleigh, I’ll go back to the wholesaler tomorrow. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Everybody has off days and forgets things, Damien. Don’t beat yourself up about tonic water.”

He hands me some money and I put it in my pocket as I make for the back room to grab my coat.

The air is cool as it hits me. Suddenly I’m grateful I remembered my coat, as I pull it tighter around me to fend off the wind.

“Hey, Caleigh,” a voice says, startling me.

I turn to see it’s Rhett, and I swallow my heart from where it jumped up into my throat. And here was me thinking I didn’t spook easily.

“Evening, Rhett. You coming to the pub?”

“Yeah, I was headed that way now. Are you not working?”

“Yeah, I am. Damien just forgot something at the wholesalers, so I’m just walking to the shop to see if they have some. Must have used the last of it last night I guess.”

“Ah, well, let me help you back with whatever it is.”

He falls in line with me as I head for the shop. My heart beats a staccato rhythm because he’s so close. He’s so close I could touch him. But I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t even want to, but I do.

“What is it?”

“What is what?” I ask, confused.

“That he forgot. He said something on the trip back about feeling like he’d forgotten something, but he didn’t know what.”

“Oh, sorry. Umm, just some slimline tonic water.”

“He forgot it, but he sends you out to fetch it? Not very gentlemanly,” he says with a soft chuckle.

“That’s Damien for you. Manners of a pig. But actually I offered this time.”

“Still, he could have said no and come out himself.”

“Too scared the cold would shrivel up his already microscopic cock and then women would have to use an extra-strength magnifying glass to find it.”

Rhett bursts out laughing, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that even his laugh is perfect. Everything about him is so … dreamy. Shut the fuck up, Caleigh, I think to myself.

“I won’t tell him you said that.”

“Trust me, I’d say it to his face.”

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you Caleigh?” he asks, his voice suddenly husky—or is that my imagination?

“My mum would tell you I’m too damn sassy for my own good. My dad would tell you I’m his little firecracker.”

“And I’d believe every word.”

We find the aisle with the tonic water and I grab as many packs as I can handle.

“Here, let me,” Rhett says as he takes them from me.

“Thank you.”

I pick up a few more packs, just to tide us over in case Damien forgets again. The man’s brain is like a sieve sometimes.

We pay and grab the bags. Rhett carries both of them, so I carry the two packs we couldn’t fit in. Walking back to the pub, I tell Rhett all about the many wonderful singers he can expect tonight and some of their song choices—the regulars like to sing the same songs most weeks. Honestly, I wish they’d change it up a bit.

Rhett helps me carry the water into the stock room, then I open the packs and grab some bottles to stock behind the bar. He kindly helps me carry a few through, so once I’m back behind the bar, I pour him a Jameson.

“It’s on the house, man,” Damien says from the end of the bar.

“That’s not necessary,” Rhett replies.

“Oh, but it is, my man. I should have gone instead of assuming Caleigh could carry it all back alone.”

“Honestly, it was my pleasure, bro.”

“Why don’t you grab a beer and come join me?”

I hand Rhett a bottled beer and he thanks me before heading towards Damien’s end of the bar. I watch as he takes a seat next to him and they start chatting.

After serving the line of customers, I ponder what brought Rhett here. It has to be one of the quietest little places in the country. Is he just after peace and quiet, or is he escaping something? From his demeanour tonight, he doesn’t seem like he’s troubled, but there’s something about him. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like something is bothering him. I tried asking him stuff on the plane and he changed the subject swiftly, probably thinking—or hoping—I wouldn’t notice.

Maybe he’s just an extremely private person. I don’t know. He’s like a riddle I can’t solve and that bugs me. It would be nice to peel back the layers of him a little bit, get to know more about him. But we only seem to make small talk.

It’s that time of the evening when Tina takes to the stage and belts out Alanis Morrisette’s “Ironic”. I love the song, and Tina has a pretty good voice. She doesn’t have to be steaming drunk to get up on that stage and give it her all either. She has confidence by the bucketload.

Next up is Joshua, who always sings “With or Without You”. Another song I love. But then after him is Maddie, who always signs up to sing “Unbreak My Heart”. She had her heart broken by a guy a while back, and ever since she’s seemed like she’s drowning in misery. She’s one of the people with a voice powerful enough to hit every note, but it makes me sad to see that she’s still struggling.

I know what it’s like to lose a guy. I mean, okay so it’s a little different because Angelo passed away, but it’s really hard to come to terms with shit like that in the beginning.

It’s hard to accept that they’re gone. It’s really hard to accept that they’ll never come back to you. Loss is loss, whether it’s death or just the end of a relationship. I’ve had both and been hurt by both. You grieve the loss of all the things you had planned together but never got to do.

I moved back to River’s Edge to get away from the sympathetic looks and the many people who gave their condolences. I didn’t want people’s pity. I wanted to just be allowed to be me.

I lived here as a little girl, and Angelo lived here too, but we moved away to start afresh somewhere bigger when we realised that we were going to have Hardin.

Three years ago, when he passed away, I moved back here to be closer to my parents and other family members. I wanted Hardin to have family around to help him after losing his daddy. Thankfully, he was only young when it happened; he was just two years old. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t affected. We both were, and we both needed our family around us.

But I digress. My point is that we all deal with loss in different ways. And Maddie sings her heart out every other week at karaoke night. She only comes every other week because her mum looks after her daughter, Janie.

My heart pangs with the memory of my own loss as she sings.

The crowd gathered applauds loudly as the song ends, and Delia gets up to sing a song by Whitney Houston. I discreetly stick in my ear plugs and serve a couple of customers. It’s easy when you already know their usual and don’t have to make them shout to be heard beyond the ear plugs.

I watch as Damien laughs with Rhett. And I wish I could hear that lilting laugh of his. Grabbing a bottle of Johnnie Walker, I head down to pour them both a healthy measure.

“You should get up and sing, dude,” Damien says to Rhett.

“Nah, man, I can’t carry a tune. Honestly, I’d make your ears bleed,” Rhett replies with a laugh.

“Come on, man, just one song. I promise I’ll stop nagging if you do. And, to sweeten the pot, drinks on the house for the rest of the night. Not the cheap stuff either!”

“Man, you drive a hard bargain to hear me murder a tune.”

“Go on, Rhett. Just the one,” I butt in.

He smiles at me, and man does my heart start racing. His pearly white grin, all Hollywood and perfect. It just does something to my insides, turning them into a pool of gelatinous goo.

“Aw, man, not you too. You know this is harassment, right?” he asks, still smiling.

“I promise we’ll stop if you let me put you down for one song,” Damien says.

“And I get to pick my own song?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t set you up, man.”

Rhett looks resigned to his fate. Poor guy.

Another couple of singers get up before it’s his turn. When the melody begins to play, I just know I won’t be putting my ear plugs back in. “Take It to the Limit” is a song I grew up listening to. I defy anyone to say they don’t like The Eagles, whether they’re country fans or not.

His voice pins me to the spot. Suddenly Rhett is all I can see and hear. He belts it out in a heavenly voice. So much for not being able to hold a tune. He even hits the higher notes perfectly. I feel weak at the knees.

When he takes his seat back at the bar, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“What the fuck, dude? Thought you said you couldn’t sing,” Damien says as he claps him on the shoulder.

Rhett has the grace to blush.

“That was …” I trail off, floundering for the right word. “I’ve always loved that song. My mum brought me up on The Eagles, amongst others. You had me believing you couldn’t sing and then … then you go and bring the house down.”

The raucous applause is still ringing in my ears. The crowd loved it every bit as much as I did.

“I think he should sing another for telling us a lie,” Damien says to me.

“I second that.”

“Oh no. No way. You promised you’d back off if I sang one song. One,” Rhett replies, looking between us both.

“No can do, buddy. Sorry. But you tell a lie like that and you have to pay the price.”

I laugh as he looks completely horrified at the thought. He knows he won’t get out of it, because Damien is not the kind of guy to back down. He’ll go toe to toe with him until he gets his way.

“And I say one of us gets to pick the song,” I say, with a wink at Rhett.

“Damn straight,” Damien agrees, slapping him on the back.

“Fuck,” Rhett says as his shoulders slump.

Damien leans over the bar to conspire with me over song choice and I’m almost tempted to choose “Let It Go” from Frozen, just to be a complete bitch, but I don’t. I hate that song, for a start.

“How about something like one of Panic at The Disco’s songs?” I whisper.

“Nah, man, something that needs a really strong voice. I’ve got it, hold on.”

He leans over to Rhett and asks if he’s seen The Greatest Showman. Rhett nods and then Damien leans back over to me.

“ ‘From Now On’. What do you say, Caleigh?”

I nod emphatically and clap my hands in glee.

Rhett graces the stage once again without knowing the song we chose. The melody starts to play and his eyes flash with recognition.

He starts singing softly, just like Hugh Jackman would. Then it starts to get stronger and louder. His voice carries throughout the room and the crowd sit enraptured. My heart races, and I feel tears sting my eyes. I’ve loved this song since the moment I first heard it. It really has all the feels when you watch the film. Hardin and I might just be a little obsessed with the film and its soundtrack.

The room bursts into applause as Rhett finishes singing and I clap along with them. I clap so loud it makes my hands sting. He really is one talented guy. He obviously hides his light under a bushel. Not only can he pull off covering The Eagles—which is no mean feat—but a song from a bloody musical too. Christ alive, this man gets more and more amazing the more I see him.

Damien tells me to pour the man a drink, so I do.

***

I’m shattered. What a long night on my feet. But it was worth every ounce of pain just to hear Rhett sing. Man, he had the crowd begging for more but declined after his second song.

I collect Hardin from Mum, pack his snacks in his new school bag and make sure everything is ready for tomorrow.

“Brush your teeth for the full two minutes, mister. Don’t stop until that timer goes off.”

“I will, Mum,” he garbles around his toothbrush.

“Good boy.”

I finish packing his lunch and hear the timer go off in the bathroom. Hardin runs into the room and shows me his gleaming white teeth.

“Choose a bedtime story and I’ll be up in two minutes.”

“Okay, Mummy.”

“And don’t run up the stairs.”

“I know,” he says on a sigh, like I’ve told him a million times before. Probably because I have.

“I chose Room on The Broom, Mummy,” he says excitedly as I sit next to him on the bed.

“Did Grandma buy you this?”

“Yeah, we got it today. She took me to see Uncle Ted. He gave me the new Snowman book too, Mummy. Wanna see?”

He clambers out of bed and rushes to his bookshelf. It’s crammed with all the books Ted and my mum spoil him with.

There’s nothing more wonderful than teaching him to read and sitting to read bedtime stories together. I hate it when I can’t tuck him into bed at night, because I miss our bedtime stories. When we don’t have anything new to read and he doesn’t fancy one we’ve already read, we make up stories together. This kid has quite the imagination.

Climbing back on his bed, he shows me the new Snowman book and it takes me back to being a kid. I watched it every Christmas without fail. Now I watch it with my baby, just the way my mum did with me.

“We can read this another night baby. Did you thank Uncle Ted?”

“Of course I did, Mummy, I’m not silly. You always tell me to have good manners.”

“Good boy. Now, lie down and let me tuck you in and we can get started on tonight’s story.”

He snuggles down under the covers and I tuck him in. I place a light kiss on his forehead before settling down next to him and opening the book.

As Hardin falls asleep, I lean down and kiss his soft cheek and brush a strand of hair out of his face. These are the moments I cherish most. There’s nobody I could ever love more than this little bundle of joy.

I say little, but he’s not so little anymore. Soon I’ll blink and he’ll be eighteen and moving out. I don’t want to miss a single second of joy in the moments between now and then.

Padding softly downstairs, I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine from the fridge. I reach for a stemless tumbler and pour myself a small glass. It’s almost too peaceful down here. It makes me miss the nights in with Angelo. I think that it’s his companionship I miss as much as anything else.

I could get an early night, but it’s a bit too early. So, instead, I pick up my Kindle and start a new book I’ve been dying to dive into. It’s one of a series about cocky alphas, and I just love anything by the two authors.

Just as I’m getting to the good stuff, my phone rings, totally breaking the spell. The phone flashes with the face of my best friend who moved almost two hours away last summer. I answer and see her gorgeous face light up with a smile as she sees me.

Lord knows why she had to move so far away. I mean, yeah, she had a daughter and a husband, and they wanted to live somewhere bigger. Her husband, Lewis, is a hotshot solicitor and he didn’t want to keep commuting to the city. I get that; Angelo and I wanted to be somewhere bigger when we had Hardin. But I miss her like crazy, and although she’s a stay-at-home mum, we don’t get to get together often enough. Fuck, it’s good to see her face and talk about everything and nothing.

After Rhiannon fills me in on the things I’ve missed in her life, she quizzes me like she thinks I have something worth talking about. She asks me about my non-existent love life, and I tell her that there’s simply nothing to tell. Ever the perceptive one, she doesn’t miss a trick. So, I tell her about the hot guy passing through town on his way to who-knows-where.

“Nothing’s going on though, Rhi. And it won’t. He’s not sticking around, so I’m not getting attached.”

“Sure, nothing going on at all. That’s why your skin is a deep shade of cerise right now.”

“Rhi, I’m telling you, there’s nothing going on.”

“But you’d like there to be?”

“Hey, I can’t help that he’s hot. And to think I didn’t look twice at him when I saw him on Tinder.”

“Tinder?” she gasps. “Oh no, girl, please tell me you didn’t meet some random weirdo off a hook-up app?”

“It’s not like that,” I sigh, before proceeding to tell her how we met.

When she finishes laughing her ass off at me, she hears Luna calling her. We say our goodbyes, but not before she makes me promise to—and I quote—keep her apprised of any update in the situation.

It’s an empty promise, because nothing will happen, but I agree in the hopes of keeping her from hounding me about it.

***

After dropping Hardin off at his classroom, I make my way to the shop before heading home. I make my way to the till, but bump into a wall of muscle, and almost send everything in my arms flying.

“Shit, sorry. I should really look where I’m …” I trail off as I look up to see I’ve bumped into none other than Rhett. “Going. Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologise,” he says in a voice that makes my insides do somersaults. “Here, let me help.” He takes a couple of things from me and carries them to the till. “You really ought to get a basket next time,” he says with a wry chuckle.

“I didn’t realise I’d need one. Typical of me, really. I come in for one thing and leave with about twenty.”

I don’t know why I’m rambling, but I can’t seem to stop whenever I’m around him.

“Let me help you home with the bags.”

“Oh, there’s really no need.”

“I’d like to though.”

“Wasn’t there something you came in for?”

“Oh,” he says, as if he’s completely forgotten his reason for being here. “Yeah, umm … let me just grab something and I’ll be right back.”

He walks off in the direction of the fridges at the back of the store before returning a few moments later carrying a couple of bottles of kombucha. I’ve never tried that stuff myself, but just the thought of a cold tea drink makes me want to puke. If you’re going to drink tea, make it the hot kind with sugar and milk.

“You ought to try something before you decide you don’t like it,” Rhett says, causing me to frown.

Shit! I must have said that about tea out loud.

“I … umm … I didn’t mean to voice that out loud.”

“You didn’t say anything, it was clear from the look on your face.”

“But you knew I haven’t even tried it.”

“Lucky guess. Probably because I’ve seen the look on my friends' faces when I drink it. They’re all about beer or whiskey, and normally so am I. But somebody told me about this stuff and, what can I say, it’s good.”

The cashier rings up our purchases and we bag them up before leaving the store. Rhett carries the bags, even though I told him not to fuss.

“So, what are you cooking?” he asks as we walk back to my place.

“Oh, umm, I’m making turkey nuggets with sweet potato fries. I ran out of courgette and carrots though, hence the trip to the store.”

“Courgette?” he asks as he makes a funny face.

“You know, you really ought to try something before deciding you don’t like it,” I parrot his earlier words back to him.

“It just … I don’t know; it looks revolting.”

“Hardin says the same, but he eats it every time I make these nuggets. He has no choice really because I grate it and put it in with the turkey mince and grated carrot.”

“Huh?”

The puzzled expression on his face makes me giggle.

“Wow, you’ve never made your own nuggets, have you?”

“Umm, that would be a hard no.”

“You really should. They’re much healthier than frozen crap. I make sure Hardin eats as little frozen food as possible.”

I’m rambling and I’m probably boring the pants off him, but he listens with a smile on his face all the same.

“What’s with the megawatt grin?” I ask when I can’t bear it any longer.

“Nothing, it’s just that you remind me of my mum. She wouldn’t allow me to eat frozen food often either. She made everything from scratch almost every night when I was growing up. She’d let me have pizza or nuggets if she was really rushed off her feet, but a lot of the time she made her own pizza and froze it, so it was still the healthier option.”

“Sounds like a woman after my own heart. It’s this house just here,” I say, pointing down the path to my front door.

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, we like it. And my mum lives just a couple of doors that way,” I say as I gesture to her house, “which makes it easy when she watches Hardin while I’m at work.”

“Where is the little man?”

“He’s at school until three-thirty. I’m a mess because it’s his first week and it’s weird that he’s not here with me. But I want him to get a good education and make friends.”

“You’re a good mum.”

“H-how do you figure that?” I stutter.

“Well, you want what’s best for your son. You want him to get an education, to make friends and to eat healthily. I think that counts as being a good mum, don’t you?”

I feel the blush colour my cheeks. “It’s just the same as any mother would want.”

“Not every mother, trust me. There are some women that have kids and neglect them. There are some that beat their kids, have them taken away by social services because they can’t be bothered to look after them.”

If he hadn’t just told me about his own mother, I’d say he was talking from experience. He has this kind of weird expression on his face, like he’s been hurt but is trying to hide it. Whatever it is, the deep frown mars his handsome features. But almost as soon as it appears, it vanishes again, leaving a smile in its place.

“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? You know, the hot kind?”

Shit. I don’t know why I’m inviting him in, but I can’t retract my words now I’ve said them out loud; that would be rude.

“I don’t drink tea, but if you have coffee, I’d love one.”

“Sure, yeah.”

I open the door and stand aside to let him in. He won’t let me take the bags from him, so I show him to the kitchen where he places them on the side.

As I’m unpacking the bags and putting things away, I turn to fill the kettle and grab two mugs from the overhead cupboard. This place might not be as big as our old house, but it’s home. It’s big enough for Hardin and me, plus it’s close to school and work, as well as my mum’s place.

I watch as Rhett looks at the family photographs on the wall. He smiles as he looks at baby pictures of Hardin.

“Who’s this?” he asks as he points at our family portrait.

“That’s my husband, Angelo.”

His face looks crestfallen, but I don’t get time to wonder why.

“I didn’t realise you were married.”

“Oh, umm, I’m not. I’m widowed, actually.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, Caleigh. I didn’t know.”

His shoulders slump and it looks like somebody kicked his puppy or something from the way he looks at me.

“It’s okay, you weren’t to know. He died a few years ago. He had cancer. We thought he had more time, but it spread faster than wildfire, and he was gone before I could process what was happening. He was always happy though, right up to the end. He was never maudlin, never got upset in front of Hardin. It was hard, because he was so little when it happened. One minute he’s got a dad, the next he’s gone.”

I stop talking long enough to swallow back unshed tears and make those coffees. I carry them through to the living room and Rhett follows.

“He was a great dad, you know. He lived for Hardin. He was the apple of his eye. We were so lucky to have a guy like Angelo in our lives,” I continue as we take a seat.

“Hardin has his eyes,” he remarks quietly.

“Yeah? People say he’s my double.”

“In his baby photos, he looks just like his daddy.”

“He was Angelo’s shadow. He literally followed him everywhere, all the time. Angelo loved to read him bedtime stories, and he was especially good at making them up off the top of his head. Much better than I am, that’s for sure. I try. I read to him every night. He usually picks a book or asks me to tell him stories. A lot of them include his daddy in one way or another. I’ll tell him about things we did when we were young, or I’ll tell him about a prince in a magical kingdom far, far away.”

“Does he remember him much?”

“I’m not sure. I know he knows who he is because of the stories I tell or the pictures on the wall, but I’m not sure about real memories of his own.”

I wipe a stray tear and Rhett gives me a pained look.

“I’m sorry, Caleigh. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Oh, gosh, no. It’s fine, honestly.”

He takes my small hand in his and strokes the back of it with his thumb. That small gesture calms me. It’s weird, because it should feel wrong coming from anyone other than Angelo, but it doesn’t. It feels nice.

Turning to face him, I smile as he wipes away another tear from my cheek. He’s tender and sweet, and it makes my heart flutter like it has wings.

Before I can fully think it through—and probably overthink it and chicken out—I lean in and ghost a kiss across his lips, waiting to see if he’ll respond.

He doesn’t do anything for a second, and I wonder whether I’ve misjudged him being attracted to me. Maybe it’s all in my head.

I start to pull back but then his lips meet mine in a kiss so soft and gentle it makes my heart skip a beat. The butterflies in my stomach are going crazy as I lean into the kiss and part his lips with my tongue.

He moans quietly as he gives in to the urge to deepen the kiss. His tongue dances with mine as if we’ve done it a thousand times before.

His one hand comes up to the back of my head whilst the other palm cradles my cheek. My blood sings in my veins as his kiss turns from tender to passionate, consuming me the way my thoughts of him have these last few days.

Breaking the kiss, Rhett pulls back and looks at me through hooded eyes. His irises are darkened with lust and I see myself reflected back in them.

“You are so beautiful,” he says in a husky voice that melts my insides.

I feel the blush creep across my cheeks.

“Even prettier when your cheeks tint to match the colour of your hair,” he whispers as he ghosts a kiss over my lips.

“Hey, my cheeks don’t get that pink,” I respond defensively.

“Not quite, but they are beautiful and rosy.”

He touches his forehead to mine, and it’s like I can see into his soul as I get lost in his gaze.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since we met in the airport.”

“You have?” I ask, surprise evident in my tone.

“I have. Ever since you swiped past my picture on Tinder.”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” I sigh. “I actually can’t get over doing that. My mum always told me never judge a book by its cover, but I did exactly that. Well, not exactly, I mean, your bio didn’t give much away, and your picture was kind of dark. You’re better looking in real life.”

“Thank you,” he says as he ghosts another kiss across my lips.

He pulls back and looks at me. He runs a hand through his long dark hair, giving him a slightly dishevelled look. I like it. I mean, I like it a lot.

“You are too beautiful for words to accurately describe.”

Now I feel myself blushing even harder. “You say the kindest things.”

“I only say them if they’re true.”

His tone and the look on his face are sincere. It makes my heart race as I take in what he said. Caleigh Rae Flynn: too beautiful for words to describe. Words that have never been said to me before.