Danielle stood in front of the hallway mirror and turned from side to side, frowning. Her curly hair was smoothed into a ponytail, and in her well-tailored gray suit—brand new, she said—Jacinda thought she looked exactly like the capable PA the advertising agency had described in their ad.
“You look great,” Jacinda said. “They’d be lucky to have you.”
She tugged down her jacket and breathed out. “Thanks. New starts, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Ugh.” She stuck out her tongue. “I feel sick.”
Jacinda laughed. “Go. You’ll slay them. Plus you look totally hot in that little suit.”
She stood a bit taller in her heels. “I wasn’t aiming for hot, but actually, that helps.”
“Mum, you’re hot,” Sam said, giggling.
She poked him in the ribs. “Okay, that’s inappropriate, but thank you.” Then she turned to Jacinda. “Let me know if you have any problems. My phone will be on vibrate.”
“We’ll be fine. Good luck!”
They waved her off from the top of the steps, then went back inside. Immediately, Sam turned to her.
“Jacinda,” he said. “Let’s go over to Liam’s place.”
She frowned. “Your mom didn’t mention going over. The only plan I heard was to go to the markets tonight. And didn’t you already have your lesson this morning?”
He shuffled his feet. “Yes. But he doesn’t mind! And I want to show you the song he taught me.”
“Me? Oh no, I don’t think so.”
“Please?” he said, all puppy eyes and tippy-toed enthusiasm. “You don’t have your guitar here. And I’m already really good at this song. Like, really, really good.”
Oh, hell. That face. She was in no hurry to see Liam again, but how could she resist? “All right. But if he’s busy, we’re not staying.”
“Okay.”
Before the second syllable, he was heading out the French doors to the back yard, aiming for the hedge. But she called him back.
“I’m too big to go through there now.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I forgot. We’ll have to go the long way.”
She smiled at him. “Yeah. It sucks being a grown-up sometimes.”
If they were small enough, maybe she and Liam could have solved their current problems over cookies and juice boxes in the leafy hedge. But those days were long gone.
Sam led the way through the Wards’ front gate and along the side of the house, bypassing the front door. She involuntarily tugged down her skirt as they went past the small access door where she’d gotten stuck that day. Then they went up onto the deck, Jacinda trailing behind just a little. The doors were open, but there was no sign of Liam.
Sam wasn’t deterred. “Liam! Li-am!” he yelled, loud enough to send birds fluttering from the trees nearby. “We’re here!”
“Did you tell him I was coming?” Jacinda whispered.
He shrugged as they went inside, uninvited. “No.”
Before she could answer, Liam appeared from the kitchen. When he saw her he tensed for a moment, but then he grinned at Sam.
“Hey, buddy.”
Sam glowed. “Liam, this is Jacinda. Remember I said she plays guitar too?”
“Yeah, I remember.” He held out a hand, playing along. “Hi, Jacinda.”
“Hi, Liam.”
His hand enfolded hers, and she matched his grip as Sam looked on, beaming. Nothing to see here. Everything just fine. As they shook hands, she tried not to think about the last time she was in this room—her panties on the floor, Liam on his knees, her hands in his hair…
She let go of his hand.
“Can I play the song for her?” Sam asked, blessedly oblivious.
“Oh.” Liam glanced at her, then away. “We haven’t had many lessons. Don’t you want to practice a bit more before you play it for someone else?”
“No. I’m ready now.”
The way he said it, there was no way a reasonable person could argue. She waited to see if Liam was feeling reasonable today.
Finally, he nodded. “Okay, then. Sure. Go for it.”
He went to sit down, rubbing the back of his neck. Jacinda looked away as his bicep flexed, the intricate tattoo accentuating the rising muscle. Damn it, computer geeks were supposed to be scrawny. He was totally cheating. She found a seat—not next to Liam—and concentrated on Sam.
But when Sam took Ethan’s guitar from its stand and plugged in the lead, she glanced across at Liam. She was still amazed that he was letting someone play it. Mind you, she was learning that Sam on a mission was an unstoppable force—obviously Liam was no match for his determination either.
“Let’s check the tuning first,” Liam said, and Sam passed him the guitar.
As he tested each string, Sam tipped his head to the side, listening carefully. “It’s fine, I think?”
Liam nodded. “Yeah, sounds good to me too. It’s all yours.”
He passed the guitar back to Sam, who got himself organized on the chair, sitting the instrument on his lap just so.
“What about you?” he said to Liam. “I can’t play it by myself.”
For a moment, Liam hesitated, and Jacinda thought maybe he’d refuse. But then he stood up. “Okay, I’ll just get the other guitar. Hang on.”
“He plays the tune, and I play the chords,” Sam explained for Jacinda while they waited for him to come back. “We’re a duo.”
She smiled. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah.”
He adjusted his position in the big chair, then put his fingers back on the strings ex-act-ly where they’d been before. Her heart ached at his earnest sweetness, his innocent enthusiasm for the music, and his pleasure in being ‘cool’. If only it could last.
Then Liam came back in, carrying an old acoustic guitar. She remembered when he was sweet and innocent too. How things change.
He sat down in the chair next to Sam’s. “Okay, ready?”
Sam sat up even straighter. “Ready.”
Then they started to play.
Sam strummed carefully, his tongue sticking out as he concentrated. Liam played the melody and sang, patiently matching Sam’s uneven rhythm. And her heart practically stopped in her chest as the sweetly melancholy tune and heartfelt words she’d labored over years before filled the room.
The hourglass turned at our start
And I keep running but my heart
Won’t let me stay ahead of you…
Hourglass Reverb. Her song.
As he sang, Liam stayed focused on Sam, encouraging him through a tricky chord change, nodding when he strummed in time. And she tried to keep watching Sam too, but her eyes kept returning to Liam. The lyrics fell from his lips without hesitation, and the slight rasp in his voice gave the words a gritty, aching edge, sexier than her version. His long fingers effortlessly picked out the notes, and he even threw in some improvisations of his own. He’d played this song before, enough times to be not just proficient, but expert. And now he was letting her see, knowing that she’d know it. He’d sat over here by himself and played her song—repeated the notes until they were perfect, sung her words over and again in that gravelly voice…
When they finished, she was silent for a few seconds.
Then she smiled at Sam.
“That was awesome. I mean really, seriously good. You’re going to be an amazing guitarist.”
“Do you know that song?” Sam asked her, mischief in his grin.
She played along. “Well, it is kind of familiar…”
“It’s yours!”
He cracked up, the whole thing hilarious, and she had to laugh too.
“That was a total surprise,” she told him. “I loved it.”
“Thanks! I want to show Mum next.”
“You should. She’d be really impressed.”
He nodded, and went back to strumming, working on the tricky chord change that had tripped him up during the song.
Finally, she looked at Liam. “You made it sound pretty great.”
He shrugged, messing with the tuning pegs on his guitar. “Thanks.”
“Interesting choice,” she added.
His deep blue eyes were on her now. “I know the girl who wrote it.”
“Oh, okay.” Her pulse kicked up a notch. “Is she a friend, or…?”
“I don’t know,” he said, holding her gaze.
She ran with it. “Hmm. What does she think about you?”
“I don’t know,” he repeated, with the smallest lift of an eyebrow.
That was her cue—the moment to suggest what this girl might be thinking, or feeling, about him. She considered him from across the coffee table. She knew what she thought about him. He was smart, and kind (as evidence, Sam played on, only slightly mangling her song). He had a dirty-sexy singing voice. His habit of showing up shirtless was more than justified by the body it revealed, his tattoos were ridiculously hot, and even in a whiskey-laced hurry he was good in bed. And other places. She felt her cheeks heat at the memory. All of that was straightforward, unarguable fact. But how she felt about him? That, she didn’t know.
And anyway, she wasn’t allowed to feel anything about him. They might have been thrown together again this summer, but that other summer overrode everything else. Sometimes the past shouldn’t be left behind.
So she said nothing.
He took a breath, as though he was about to say something himself, and she waited.
But then Sam played a wonky chord, and let rip with a curse. “Bloody hell!”
They both looked over as he flung his head back and groaned in dramatic frustration.
“Sam!” She tried not to laugh, and Liam stifled a chuckle.
Sam went pink. “Sorry. Everyone swears on the farm.”
She smiled. “Well, you can play like a rock star, but if you start talking like one too we’ll be in major trouble.”
Liam leaned on his guitar, and looked at her. “And I’m in enough trouble already,” he said quietly.
For the briefest moment, they looked at each other, and the current that ran between them jolted her senses into overdrive. But enough had to be enough. She was done with all the backward and forward. With Sam on the scene, she’d probably be seeing more of Liam until she left, but there’d be no more blurred lines. He might like the idea of fooling around—she did too, God help her—but she knew where the bottom line was. It was where Ethan’s ghost stood. Liam had made that much clear himself.
“So I’m going to be around a while longer,” she said. “Danielle needs me to help look after Sam.”
“Yeah, I heard,” he said.
She tipped her head toward Sam, who was laboring over the song again, chewing his bottom lip as he concentrated. “You have a fan there.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged, but she could see the thought pleased him.
“So maybe we can make it okay? For him?”
He nodded. “For him. Sure.”
“Good.”
She turned to Sam, and clapped as he finished up with a totally rock star windmill arm, and a shout of Oh yeah. Then he stood up and bowed, and Liam joined in the applause.
She laughed. “Woo-hoo! Nice!”
They’d make it okay for him.
Being okay for themselves was a whole other thing.