The pixels weren’t cooperating.
Liam squinted at the screen, then pressed his hand to his eyes. Forget the website, he was brutally pixelated himself today. Last night’s session with Dane and Connor had snuck into the wee small hours. They’d come back from the beach, ordered pizza, and hung out, just talking and drinking, still making up for all the years apart. A light summer rain had started falling when the sun went down, so they’d shifted inside and got dangerously comfortable in the living room. They avoided the topics that had caused them trouble last time, and smashed through who knew how many beers, and the best part of a bottle of tequila. It had been a great night. And now…he was feeling downright shady. He hadn’t blown through this much alcohol in a week for years—maybe it was lucky they were only visiting.
He leaned back in the chair and blew out a slow breath, trying not to aggravate the dull ache that sat deep between his temples. The clock in the top corner of his screen showed the time: ten fifteen. Jesus, why was he even up? Almost without realizing it, he’d started keeping more conventional hours over the last few days. Something about the sea air, maybe, more fresh and clear than the Australian atmosphere ever was. Or maybe, despite trying to keep his head down, he’d been forced into it by the interruptions to his routine. His non-routine, that is.
The universe must have been listening in, because right then, the doorbell rang. He rolled his eyes as usual at the musical extravaganza, but it was accompanied by a hit of nostalgia. His mother had always loved this house, and it was full of little touches she’d added over the years. It had been weird spending time here without her—he kept expecting to hear her singing in the kitchen, or find her working in the garden, wearing one of her battered floppy hats. His father had always put in long hours at work as a career cop, eventually climbing in the ranks to district commander, and the garden was her distraction and her joy. But once they left New Zealand, after Ethan died, she never gardened again. Liam knew it wasn’t just because of the Australian snakes and spiders.
He closed the HTML tag (not strictly necessary for that one, but the neatness satisfied him), saved his progress, and went to the front door. When he opened it, he found Sam, smiling on the doorstep with a tall, slender woman. Her eyes were the same wide blue as Sam’s, and they had matching freckles.
“Hi, I’m Danielle,” she said. “Sam’s mother.”
“Oh, hi.” He scratched his head, dragging his brain up out of the hangover swamp he’d been immersed in. Then he remembered his manners, and held out his hand.
“I’m Liam.”
She shook firmly, and smiled. “Yeah, I heard.”
“Oh, right. Hi Sam,” he added.
The kid grinned. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “But Sam told us he’d visited with you, so I wanted to introduce myself.”
He nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Should he invite them in? He hesitated, thinking of the client in London who’d be waking up in a few hours, expecting to have a first look at his new website. It needed to be finished, hangover or not. Luckily, his hesitation seemed to be enough of a hint.
“We won’t keep you,” she said. “But we did have something to ask. A favor.”
“Okaaay…” He knew he should try to sound more encouraging, but agreeing to a favor in advance wasn’t going to happen.
“It’s…” She stopped, then tried again. “Sam is so keen to play guitar. Would you be willing to teach him?”
He frowned. He’d let Sam play the guitar that first time because he felt sorry for him. Then yesterday, there was no way to not let him—he’d turned up on the deck in the morning, bright-eyed and expectant, his face lit up like it was Christmas. But lessons? He hadn’t bargained on that development. And getting more involved with Jacinda’s family didn’t seem like a good idea. He remembered how he’d had to stop on the sand yesterday afternoon, for just one more look, and even though he tried to fight it, the sight of her in the water had made him smile in appreciation. With her hair slicked back and the salty water glistening on her skin, she looked incredible. But there was nothing encouraging about the way she’d frowned back at him.
“Please?” Sam said, jolting him out of his thoughts.
He looked at Danielle and shook his head. “I don’t really play these days, so…”
“I’d pay you, of course,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t ask you to give up your time for nothing.”
Sam was pressing his lips together, obviously trying not to say anything, but his fingers on both hands were tightly crossed.
“We’re new here, as you know, so Sam doesn’t have any friends yet,” she added, putting her hand on Sam’s head and smoothing his wayward hair. Her nails were bitten short. “His dad and I are separated, so…” Her voice tailed off.
Ah, shit. How could he argue with that? He sighed.
“I don’t want you to pay me.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “So you’ll teach me?”
“Okay. Sure.”
“Can we have a lesson now?” Sam asked. “Please?”
They were both looking at him so damn hopefully. His head ached.
“Yeah, okay.”
“That’s fantastic!” Danielle said. “I’ll leave you to it. Just send him back when you’re done. And thank you.” Above Sam’s head, she sent him a look of such gratitude that he felt like a complete shit for even thinking about trying to get out of it.
“No worries.”
“I’ll see myself out,” she told them. “Have fun!”
Sam was already taking Ethan’s guitar from the stand again, and getting settled on a chair. The instrument was almost as big as him, but he wrestled it into position. Then he looked up, and the pure joy in his face tweaked something in Liam’s heart.
Maybe that client could wait after all.
Jacinda looked up from her spot on the floor, surrounded by kittens, as Danielle came into the living room. “Where’s Sam?” she asked, closing her laptop.
“I left him there playing guitar with Liam. He’s going to give him some lessons. How nice is that?”
“Very nice.” And surprising. From what she could tell, Ethan’s guitar never left its stand, and Liam wouldn’t play anything himself. But Sam had walked in and shaken things up, just like that. Interesting.
Danielle sat down in the wingback chair, and reached down to tickle a wandering kitten. “I know Tina said he was hot, but wow.”
“Oh, well…yeah.” She shrugged.
“No, seriously though.” Danielle fanned herself. “He’s gorgeous.”
Jacinda nodded. “Everyone thinks so.”
“He’s single, right?”
“Yup. Single.” She stroked one of the girl kittens.
“Huh.” Danielle’s grin was wicked. “Interesting.”
Jacinda forced herself to smile. That stirring pang of jealousy in her chest had no right to be there. Danielle had been through a miserable time. If she wanted to find love again, good luck to her. There was no reason she and Liam shouldn’t be perfect together. No reason at all.
The smile made her face hurt.
Then her phone rang from the table, making her jump.
“I’ll go make coffee,” Danielle said, getting up. “Want one?”
“Yes, please.”
Something stronger would be even better. But she grabbed her phone, and smiled for real when she saw the name on the screen: Hannah.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey! How are you doing?” Her friend’s voice was an anchor on the line, a sweet reminder that even in a storm-tossed world, she always had something to hold on to.
“I’m okay.”
“How are you feeling about everything? Is it okay with Liam now?”
Last time they talked, Jacinda remembered, she’d only just found out about Ethan. But that was before the recklessly sexy stuff that had complicated things even more. “Uh…it’s a bit up and down, I guess. But I’m not seeing much of him now.”
She didn’t add that she’d previously seen a lot of him. Like, most of him, from up very close. And she’d liked it, way too much. She closed her eyes, remembering his hard body under her hands, the gravel in his voice when he said he wanted her, the unbearable bliss of feeling him slide inside her. Then she shook her head. Why was she so weak when it came to him, the one person who should be completely off limits, when she was so strong in other ways? Maybe it was the change from regular lanky teenager to full-grown hotness that had thrown her. Like they’d each just stepped out of the room, and stepped back in to see each other transformed.
And his transformation had been spectacular.
Now Hannah’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “That’s probably for the best. And the kittens, and your cousins?”
She forced herself to focus. “All good. It’s really nice to spend time with Danielle and Sam. And we have four kittens—three girls and a boy, two black, one tabby, and one mix-up. Sam named the boy Titan, but he couldn’t think of anything for the girls. So we went with the textile theme, like Velvet, and called them Suede, Taffeta and Paisley.”
“Naw, cute. You have to send a photo.” Then she hesitated. “So…Todd’s going nuts wanting to know where you are.”
“Ugh, sorry. Did you tell him?”
“No. I promised I wouldn’t. But he’s heard from Greg about the tour. He has a proposal for you.”
“Really? Wow, after the last time I saw him, I thought…”
“Yeah, me too.” Hannah laughed. “You’re lucky Todd’s a fast talker.”
She snorted. “He is that.”
“So you’re looking at an eighteen-city tour, including two stops in Canada.”
“Really? That’s more than I expected.”
Hannah paused. “There’s just one thing…”
“What?”
“It’s…you’d actually be the support act.”
“Oh.” Well, she was surprised to have any kind of tour at all, after the incident with Greg. Playing support might be okay, if it was for someone good. “Who for?”
Hannah cleared her throat. “Eli Tyler.”
Her mouth fell open. Well played, Greg, you cunning bastard. “Great,” she said. “That’s payback for you.”
“Cin, I know it’s not ideal. But maybe you should do it. It’s still a good opportunity. Eli is really huge now, and if he’s willing to have you…”
“If he’s willing to have me? You’re joking, right?”
“But what’s the alternative? Are you going to throw everything away? You’ve worked too hard for that.”
“Greg and Eli. Those two stand for every freaking thing I hate about this business. You know that.”
“Eli’s not that bad—”
“Hannah, stop. You know how that went down. I’m not going to be his backup act. Todd will have to figure something else out.”
She sighed. “Well, maybe you should tell him. I’m not exactly in the mood to talk to him myself.”
A red flag went up in Jacinda’s mind. “Why, what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing. I’m just sick of being a music biz widow, you know. Even when he’s in LA, he’s hardly around.”
“Is he there now?”
“I thought so. But he went to a gig last night, and I fell asleep before he got home. When I woke up, he’d sent a message to say he’d decided to drive straight out to Palm Springs afterward. Apparently he had some meetings there this morning.”
Jacinda checked the time. It would be mid-afternoon in California. “That stinks. Has he been in touch today?”
“Yeah, to say he’ll probably be back tomorrow. At least I know he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere, I guess.”
Hearing the sadness in her words, Jacinda felt like killing him herself. “I’m sorry, hon. He’s lucky to have you, he should be treating you better.”
“It’s okay,” she said, obviously forcing optimism into her voice. “He’s trying to build something here. It’ll be worth it for all of us in the end.”
“You’re right,” Jacinda said, but she wasn’t convinced either.
“So promise me you’ll think about the tour, okay? Even though that was a shitty thing Eli did. I know you really liked him—”
She made a dismissive sound. “I didn’t.”
Hannah’s voice was soft. “I know you did. But now he’s seriously big league, and you might as well use him this time around.” She paused to let her point sink in. “Just think about it.”
As usual, she was making sense. “How did you get to be so right all the time? It’s so goddamn annoying.”
“You love me for it. Does that mean you’ll think about it?”
“No. It means I’ll think about thinking about it.”
Hannah laughed. “That’s good enough.”
“Now go do something fun. And kick that man’s ass for me when he gets home.”
“With pleasure,” she replied, with enthusiasm.
It was good to hear her sounding a little less despondent as they ended the call. Jacinda sat for a moment, watching the kittens clamber over each other in their bed, then went to get the coffee Danielle had left for her in the kitchen. How would it look if she played support for Eli? When it happened, their breakup had been all over the news in the US. But only those on the inside knew the truth—as soon as Eli’s management gave the word, he’d traded up to a leggy starlet six years her junior. Only Hannah knew how much she’d liked him, and how stunned she’d been to discover his pretense. Apparently he was as good at acting as he was at singing.
Meh. She didn’t believe in love stories anyway.
She stirred sugar into the coffee, sweet for bitter, and took a sip.
She’d think about it.