Chapter Twenty-Two

“Chloe, please come to dinner.” Grace stood over Chloe, who was sprawled out on her air mattress. She wore the too-short sweat shorts and a tee. She had one earbud plugged into an ear, and the other dangled.

“Mom, I’m exhausted. Beau wouldn’t let us take a break because you were gone all day wherever you went, and when he finally let us eat lunch, after ten minutes he was yelling at us to get back to work. My whole body hurts. I’m not even hungry. If you don’t want to go to dinner, just cancel. But I’m staying here.”

Grace threw her hands in the air and marched out of Chloe’s room. She learned a long time ago that once Chloe dug her heels in, there wasn’t any point in arguing.

Beau had worked them hard. When she finally returned to Heritage River, the sun suspended low in the sky, dirt and dust covered Chloe in a white film. Spackle stuck to Jud’s hair like a good hair gel, and sweat stained his shirt. Beau had summoned Cash after Blaise left to rescue her, either forgetting or not caring the poor boy was sick. When Beau saw her, his face turned the color of an overripe strawberry. Grace worried he’d pass out. He yelled about responsibility and her pulling her weight. She’d refused to tell him where she was, and he’d kicked a hole in the new wall they’d already put in.

They had begun rebuilding her kitchen, and Grace stood there now, admiring their work. The new walls were up. Beau changed the window over the sink, and the oversized, clean glass let in more light than the old one. He assured her it was energy efficient. He drew chalk lines on the floor to show her the new layout for the cabinets. His plan made better use of her space and even added an island for her—well, for the new owners.

“You need to pick the things for your kitchen. Don’t go running off tomorrow,” he’d said as he left earlier.

A knock on the door drew her away from her thoughts. She checked before she opened it. “You didn’t have to come to the door.”

Blaise had changed into jeans and a button-down short-sleeved shirt that accented his toned frame. He wasn’t muscular in some gym-head way. All that banging on the drums had probably made him muscular without being bulky.

“I was checking to see if you needed help finding the front yard.” He winked.

“I didn’t get lost today. Surprisingly. I ran out of gas. There’s a huge difference.” She grabbed her purse and followed him onto the porch.

“Is Chloe almost ready?” He swung his keys on his finger.

“Um, she’s decided not to come. Beau worked her hard. She wants to collapse and stay home.” Grace shrugged. “If I forced her, she’d just be a pill all night.”

“Cash gave me a big fat no too. Said all he wanted to do was take a cold shower and sleep. Guess it’s just us, then.”

His smile made the muscles in her belly dance a tango. Having dinner with him alone wasn’t really her plan. She’d already thrown caution to the wind once today, and that didn’t work out so well. Maybe this would be different. Or maybe it would be disastrous, much like meeting Nancy Templeton and running out of gas.

“Where are we going?” She waved to Mo Bucknell watering his hydrangeas. He gave her an enthusiastic wave back.

Blaise pulled the truck out of the driveway and headed through town and then passed the town’s edge where fields spread out long and flat. There wasn’t a car in sight, something Grace didn’t see back in Jersey. She enjoyed the space and solitude laid out before them.

“It’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“That’s what I figured.” He glanced over at her, showing off his dimple.

What if she’d worn the wrong thing? She’d changed three times as it was, trying to find the right combination of stylish, comfortable, forgiving, and subtle. She didn’t want her clothes writing checks her body wouldn’t pay, and she didn’t want to look like a middle-aged woman trying to be twenty-five. What if she didn’t like what they were eating? She was a picky eater and didn’t want to embarrass herself with her strange food requests.

He pulled off the paved road onto a dirt one. The flat land gave way to tall grass flanking each side of the road. The truck bounced up and down over the uneven dirt. She turned in her seat to see if she could still find the road they left behind.

“Where are we headed?” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice. So much for enjoying the space and solitude. Well, solitude she could handle as long as she could see what was coming ahead.

“You’ll see.”

“Just tell me.”

“Take your hand off the door and relax.”

“What?” She looked down at her hand’s death grip on the door, her knuckles white. “Oh.” She pulled her hand to her chest.

He grabbed her other hand. “It’s okay, Grace. I’m not going to take you to a secluded place where no one knows where you are, and drag you into the grass and then do unspeakable things they won’t even want to report on the five o’clock news before tossing your body in the marsh. If I wanted to do that, I could’ve done it today on the side of the road.” He threw his head back and gave a fake villainous laugh.

She yanked her hand away. “You’re horrible.” But she could still feel his calloused skin against hers, even though they weren’t touching. She liked his roughness against her soft skin. It made her think of wood and lace.

He pulled the truck into a dirt lot. “We walk from here.”

He hopped out before she could ask walk to where. She followed, hoping her sandals were sufficient for whatever trek they were about to take.

Blaise grabbed a basket and a blanket from the bed of the truck, along with his guitar. A picnic? She would have never guessed. She imagined a table at Jake’s in town because Blaise knew everyone there and the kids were supposed to be with them, but never a picnic. She didn’t take him for the picnic type, and she wouldn’t have worn her white pants.

“Can I help you carry some of that stuff?” She held out her hands, and he gave her the blanket. “I can take something else.” She reached toward him.

He turned away with a wink. “Hands off, lady. No one touches the guitar but me.”

She found herself laughing.

He led her down a sandy road. “I picked up sandwiches and fried chicken from Jake’s. There’s potato salad and coleslaw. I think he threw in some pickles and a couple of bottles of iced tea. Oh, and big chocolate chip cookies for dessert.” He puffed up his chest at his dinner announcement.

She had the Jake’s part right anyway. Sand kicked up between her toes. She thought about taking her sandals off. “The food sounds very nice.” And it did, except she didn’t eat fried chicken and cookies would go straight to her thighs. But she could nibble on half to be polite. He seemed so proud of his plan. Was he a planner? She doubted it. Just good with women. That was all.

“I got extra in case the kids came. We’ll have leftovers for sure.”

And a thoughtful father. Her belly did that dance again.

The road ended in a dirt lot adjacent to a large, clear lake. Grass and sand ran down to the water’s edge. A dock stuck out into the water, large enough to allow a small boat to pull up to it. A raft made of the same worn wood floated out in the middle. Picnic benches sat under trees, and houses flanked the far side of the lake. The sun rested its head on the roofs of those houses, casting rays of gold and orange onto the lake’s surface. Bushes of honeysuckle swayed in the breeze and filled the air with their sweet scent.

Blaise spread the blanket out and indicated for her to sit. He pulled the food from the basket and held out a sandwich. “I hope you’re hungry.”

She wasn’t. Her nerves were braided tightly, but she unwrapped the sandwich anyway. “The lake is lovely and peaceful.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, feeling the sun against her skin. “I would love a house on a lake.” Were her shoulders relaxing a little?

When she opened her eyes, Blaise was staring at her. She grabbed the sandwich to keep her hands busy and her gaze on something other than him.

“We used to come here as kids. We’d swim. My mom would make us a picnic, and she and my dad would sit and watch us while we horsed around. Colton would always want to see who could swim the fastest or dive the best or hold their breaths the longest.” He looked off into the distance, as if he were seeing those old times. A small smile played on his lips. “This is my favorite place. I’m sorry I don’t get to spend more time here. Maybe I can now.”

“Now?”

“I don’t normally live in Heritage River. I have a place in Nashville. Well, I had a place. I sold it recently.” He swapped the sandwich for his guitar. “I haven’t told anyone that yet except Cash.”

“Two houses are a lot for one person.” Not that she understood what owning two houses was like. She’d only ever owned the one she lived in with Larry and now the Disaster House, but she wouldn’t own it for long if things worked out the way she hoped. “I’m sure you travel a lot with your line of work and don’t need another house. Cash won’t mind, will he?”

“He likes living in Heritage River. He wants to stay here with me. No one was more surprised by that than I was. He hasn’t told his mother yet, and when he does, you’ll probably hear her all the way from California.” He began playing a soft tune.

“As a mother, I can understand, but he’s old enough to decide where he wants to live. What about college? Is he going?”

“He didn’t have any big plans. He’s been floundering at school for a while and recently got himself in some trouble, making his college plans unclear for a while.”

She didn’t want to ask what kind of trouble. It really wasn’t her business. But Cash was working at her house, and Chloe was there. She had to think about that. “What kind of trouble?” The words tumbled out before she could grab onto them.

He plucked on the guitar strings and turned the pegs. “I really can’t tune by ear. That’s Colton’s expertise. There’s iced tea in the basket. I hope you don’t mind I didn’t bring any wine. I don’t drink.”

He was full of confessions, but he didn’t answer her question. He continued to play.

“That’s a nice melody. It’s…it’s, I don’t know, soulful, maybe,” she said.

He looked up at her. His smile was wide. “You think so? Thanks. I wrote it. It would sound a lot better if I wasn’t wearing the brace.”

“It sounds lovely.” She stroked her throat and imagined what it might be like to sway with Blaise to this sultry song. Her face flushed. Where had that thought come from?

Blaise turned his gaze back to the guitar and continued to play. “You want to know what Cash did? He burned down the foundation of a house.” He smacked the guitar’s body and stopped playing the sweet melody. “There wasn’t anyone inside. No one was hurt. It’s no excuse, but his friend egged him on. His punishment is community service because he’s still a minor.” He looked away and then back at her. “And because he’s my kid. My ex thinks the judge might have been a fan.”

How would she feel if Chloe did something like that? Would she fight for a lesser sentence? Probably. No parent wanted to see their child suffer or be punished. “Has he been in trouble like that before?” Was Cash used to getting away with things because of his name? Had he learned that from his father?

“Nothing like that. Just stupid things. Skipping class. Not doing homework. Not caring about his grades. Playing video games till his eyes bleed. I blame myself. I wasn’t around. I didn’t get involved enough. I left it all to his mother, and I think Cash was acting out. Honestly, at first I didn’t know if I wanted him to come and stay with me, because I didn’t know how to handle him or what to say, but I’m glad he did come. Even if there’s times he barely utters two words to me unless he’s sick.” He let a smile play on his lips and went back to playing.

Blaise wasn’t always the perfect father. Was she really surprised, considering his life choices? Was he really sorry for not being there? “It sounds like you’re trying to make up for the past, and you must’ve done something right. Cash is a good kid.” She liked the boy, and if he was a little broken because his parents weren’t perfect, well, she could relate to that. She was broken too, thanks to her parents. Wasn’t everyone?

“He isn’t a good kid because of me. It’s his mother.”

How often did she hear a divorced couple give praise to one another? Not often enough. “Do you miss being married?” She wanted to know more about him. Sitting together beside the solitude and lulling of the lake felt safe. Her tension eased, and she could ask questions.

“Do you?” He raised his eyebrows.

But did she? Sometimes, but not in the way she thought she would. When Larry first left, she thought she’d miss his opinion on things or sleeping next to him or having someone in the house when she arrived at night. After her pride recovered from being battered, she realized Larry never offered much of those things to her anyway. What she missed was someone to change the lightbulbs in the ceiling or to twist off a lid on a glass jar when she couldn’t. And she missed the idea of marriage, but she didn’t miss Larry. They were lost to each other a very long time ago.

Blaise put down the guitar and finished his sandwich before he started on the fried chicken. He held a piece out to her, but she shook her head. “Now, Miss Grace, it is impolite to turn down the kindness of others. Here in Heritage River we say please and thank you. Then when I’m not looking, you can discreetly toss my food in the trash.”

“I like when you turn up your southern accent.” Heat filled her cheeks again, and she busied herself with cleaning up their dinner. She barely knew this man, and she was feeling things she didn’t think she’d ever felt in her life.

He stilled her hands, and their gazes met. “I like your accent too.” He was so close she could smell his clean scent.

Grace licked her lips because her mouth had gone dry. His gaze dipped to watch.

She pulled back, giving herself some space to breathe and think for a moment. Her heart clamored in her chest. She wanted to know what his lips felt like against hers—and she wanted to run for the hills. If she fell for a man like Blaise, how would she ever know if his feelings for her were true? He’d been with so many women. How many times can it be the real thing?

He took her cue and leaned back. “Would you like to take a walk?”

“That’s a good idea.” She might feel better if they were moving.

He led her around the lake on a dirt path made by years of others taking walks and riding bikes. “You never did tell me where you were coming from when you ran out of gas.” He shoved his good hand in his pocket.

The sun dipped behind the houses. The sky bled orange and gold. Clouds rolled in, kicking up a breeze that cooled her warm skin. Did she tell him the truth and risk it all? Would he tell on her? “I went to visit Nancy Templeton in an assisted living today.” There. It was out.

“Why did you do that?”

She could lie. “I want to know who she sold my house to. I want to know who my giver is.”

“This again?” He stopped and turned to her. “Grace, who cares who gave you that house? They did. It’s legit. Move forward.”

“I can’t.” Not yet anyway. What if this gift giver was an uncle or a cousin she didn’t know about? She wanted a family, and this might be a chance to find one. A relative for Chloe. Didn’t her daughter deserve to be a part of a family larger than just her parents and a new sibling she wouldn’t be able to relate to for years? “You don’t understand. I have no one except my daughter. I don’t have siblings like you. You probably grew up with both your parents who were supportive of your dreams. Maybe if I can find the person Nancy sold to, I can find a piece of my history I didn’t know existed.”

“My mother passed away when I was young. She didn’t get a chance to be supportive of my dreams. As for my father, he tried to talk us out of a life filled with rock and roll. I guess it was a good thing we didn’t listen. Well, Colton didn’t listen. If it wasn’t for Colton, I’d probably be an accountant or something.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.” She’d assumed he’d had parents rooting for him. In a way, they had something in common.

“It’s okay. You wouldn’t know. If finding this gift giver means so much to you, I’ll help you figure it out.”

She squinted at him. “You would? Why?”

He held up his bandaged hand. “The garden isn’t working out too well. I need something to fill my time until we go back on tour.”

He would be leaving. It wasn’t safe to trust him. That little voice in her head screamed at her to stay away. This man would only break her heart if she let him anywhere near it.

“I’m not supposed to find out who bought the house for me. If I do or even try, I lose the house all together, and then I won’t have anywhere to live. I’m hoping to sell this house and move back to Jersey and buy a new one.”

“There’s something in New Jersey waiting for you?”

“Well, my old life, I guess.” Would her old life still fit her?

“Then why not fix up the house and live here in Heritage River?” He started walking again, and she fell into step with him.

Their feet kicked up dirt as they moved, but she didn’t care about the dirt. At least for the moment. “I don’t know anyone here. I couldn’t even find the twenty-four-hour pharmacy last night.”

“You know me and Cash. You know Beau and Dixie. You’ve met my sister, and you’re helping out with the library fundraiser. I’d say you were starting to fit in just fine.”

“You just said you would be leaving to go on tour. I’m sure your sister is very busy with her own life, and Beau isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. Staying isn’t the plan.”

Showing Larry she didn’t need him—that was part of the plan. The plan included proving everyone wrong who told her renovating a house in a strange town by herself was a mistake. The library, Blaise, and all the rest didn’t factor in. It couldn’t.

They returned to the blanket. The sun had dipped farther, and the deep gray of nightfall spread across the top of the lake. Lights came on in some of the houses. Fireflies ducked and chased through the air.

“It’s getting late.” Grace rubbed at her arms.

Blaise settled down and dug out the cookies. He handed her one. “What’s the rush? The kids aren’t waiting for us. They’re probably glad we aren’t home. Besides, the night is young.”

Even if she wasn’t. She handed back the cookie. “No, thank you.”

He stood to face her. He was inches away, and she could feel the heat rolling off him. She wanted to step back, but he took her hands in his, keeping her in place. “Am I making you nervous?” His voice was low and husky.

She bit at her lip and kept her gaze glued to the collar of his shirt. She could see the soft spot of skin between his collarbones. What did it taste like? The thought startled her, and she snapped her head up to meet his eyes. Dear Lord, I’m worse than a teenager. He smiled down at her, and her belly moved to its own beat. The beat he played out on her wrists.

“Yes, you’re making me a little nervous. I…I…didn’t realize…we were on a, uh, you know.”

“Do you mean a date, Grace? You didn’t realize I asked you out on a date? What did you think this was?” His gray eyes twinkled, and the dimple in his cheek was full. He was teasing her again. And she liked it. Dear Lord, she liked it.

“I don’t know. Just a way of saying ‘thank you’ for helping out with Cash. I mean, the kids were supposed to come along. They wouldn’t be if this was a date.” She nearly choked on the last word. How could she, Grace Starr, be on a date with a rock star, albeit a fading star, but bright enough? A handsome man who must’ve seen the inside of a million bedrooms in his heyday. She swallowed hard. What did this man see in her? Boring, no fun, predictable Grace.

“If you’d like to end our date now, I’ll take you home.”

He let her hands go, and his absence chilled her immediately. She laced her fingers together to keep from reaching back out for him. She didn’t want things to end. She kind of liked feeling on the edge of something—daring and alive. The precariousness of her emotions made her giggle inside. “It might be best.”

Blaise packed up the picnic without another word. He opened the truck door for her to slide in, dumped the basket and guitar in the bed, and slid in from the other side. He turned on the radio to the classical station and let the music fill the space between them.

He pulled into his driveway and turned the truck off. Her house was dark. His front porch light was on. “I’ll make some calls tomorrow and see if I can find anything out about who Nancy sold to,” he said.

“No one can know what you’re up to.”

“I’ve got it covered.” He pushed himself out of the truck and met her before she had the door all the way open. “Can I walk you to your door? It’s pretty dark over there.”

He followed behind her with his hand on the small of her back. The tiny gesture spread heat through her body. At the door she turned to face him. The darkness offered a shield. “Thank you for a very nice night. The lake was beautiful.”

“So is the woman.” He lifted her chin with his strong fingers. His intense stare sent shivers over her skin. When was the last time someone called her beautiful?

He closed the distance between them, and her first instinct was to run inside into the safety of the house. The smile on his face eased the dancing in her belly, allowing her to close her eyes and wait for the feel of his lips against hers. She hoped her knees wouldn’t give out. Did she remember how to kiss someone? How would she compare to the other women?

A car horn blasted the night wide open. Blaise yanked back. Grace jumped. An engine revved, and the low bass thumping of music made its way into his driveway. A shiny pickup skidded to a halt behind his truck, and a man hopped out.

Blaise stepped back further from her. “Colton.”