Kimber appeared stunning in jeans and a cotton t-shirt, with her cowboy boots accentuating the allure of her legs. Despite her outward beauty, a trace of sadness marred her features as she gazed at the house for the first time since the explosion. Standing beside Kimber, it was evident the feelings of pure happiness they had experienced just an hour ago had dissipated, replaced by a somber atmosphere as they stared at the back of her house. Rory felt the impulse to reach out and comfort her, but he knew it wasn’t the right time, especially with Hal standing beside her. Kimber’s gaze remained fixed on the burned-out remnants of the back deck, the lingering scent of charred wood still permeating the air.
“Well… standing here isn’t going to change a damn thing. Is it safe to go inside?” Kimber looked over at Hal. “I’d like to see the rest of the destruction.”
Hal gave her a slight nod. “I can show you.”
“No.” Kimber closed her eyes and inched forward toward the house. “Sorry. I’d like to see it alone.”
“I-I don’t know how safe the floor is in certain areas, Miss Storm,” Hal stammered, his uncertainty of letting her go inside alone clear in his tone.
“I’ll take her.” Rory stepped forward and gripped Kimber’s elbow in his hand. “She’ll be safe with me.”
Rory led Kimber up the stairs, what was left of them, and navigated them into the remains of the kitchen. He didn’t know what to say to make the situation any easier. Rory suspected she didn’t really care about the kitchen, knowing it was going to be redone, anyway. That’s not what had her in tears only hours before. Her heart had been breaking for losing her piano, the one thing she’d shared with her aunt.
Following behind her to ensure she didn’t step on any weakened floorboards, Rory pressed behind her as she stopped in front of the closed door to her music room. If there had been no damage visible damage anywhere else, one wouldn’t know there had been an issue standing outside the door. But Rory knew better—he’d seen what was in store for her beyond the barrier.
“You ready?” He pressed his hand to her shoulder.
Kimber took a deep breath and sighed, “Not really, but I need to see it for myself.”
Reaching around her body, Rory turned the knob, shoved the door open, and eased Kimber’s body forward. She stumbled when her eyes landed on the destruction inside. Had he not been standing behind her, Rory was convinced she would’ve fallen. The intake of breath cut at his insides, but Kimber didn’t speak. Instead, she carefully walked around the space, stopping directly in front of the piano.
“I learned to write music on this. Did I tell you that?” Rory didn’t speak. He knew she wasn’t really talking to him. “My aunt wanted me to have an outlet for my grief. Losing my parents was hard, but I picked up the pieces and moved on. For them. I had to. She sat with me for hours the week following their funeral. We sat on the bench and played until our fingers bled. Losing this is like losing them all over again.” Kimber turned, her eyes glistened with tears. “I don’t want to cry anymore, Rory. I hate this.”
He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. Rory pressed his lips to her head and whispered against her hair, “I’ll do everything I can to get it fixed. If it’s possible, Kimber, I promise you I’ll make it happen. Now,”—he leaned her away from his muscular frame to look her in the eyes—“how about we go grab some food and have a little fun?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “You know what… yeah. Let’s go have some fun.”
They carefully walked out of the room and through the house. Rory led her down the front steps and to his truck. After helping her inside, he rushed around the front and climbed inside.
“Do you trust me?”
Kimber glanced over at him, “Of course.”
Rory smiled and threw the SUV in reverse. He tore down the driveway like a madman, eager to make her forget about the things in his rearview mirror. Kimber’s laughter filled the Tahoe, making him smile. If his crazy driving was what it took to make her laugh, he’d gladly let her giggle at him. Kimber sat quietly, staring out at the landscape as they drove down the main street. Copper Springs was home to around twenty thousand people. It was small, but not so small you knew everyone’s business. Rory felt way more at ease here than he had in Los Angeles, home of the rich and famous. When Ares reached out and offered him the job, he hadn’t hesitated. He had grown to loathe famous people in the brief time he worked in Hollywood as a glorified babysitter. Being here, in small-town Alabama, Rory felt at peace. And having the beautiful woman sitting next to him made it even better.
The cab was eerily quiet except for the music playing. Rory reached across and turned up the volume when one of his favorite songs came on. He tapped out the beat on the steering wheel, thinking about how much he hated to love the song. The band Stormer Hart was your typical pop group—a group of women who’d sold their identities to a label for money. Rory snorted.
“What’s so funny?” Kimber shot him a curious look.
Rory shook his head and grinned. “Nothing, just thinking about how much I hate this group, but really like the song.”
Kimber blinked at his admission. Rory watched a weird expression filter across her face.
“You hate the band?”
He nodded, “Yeah. I do.”
Kimber stiffened in her seat. “Why, it’s not like you know them personally.”
Rory cleared his throat. “You’re right, I don’t know them, but I do know musicians just like them. They sold themselves to become what society said they should be. Controlled by the label, and their lead singer probably can’t even sing without auto-tune.”
Kimber flinched at his words, as though what he’d said was about her. He started to ask why his opinion of the iconic band mattered, but she spoke before he could.
“Where are we going?”
“Well, I thought we could both use a drink and maybe some real music. So, we’re going to Off Duty.”
Off Duty was a bar owned by a former Marine and his retired police officer wife. They wanted to create a space where anyone felt safe to relax and enjoy themselves after a hard day. Of course, their primary clientele was public servants, but many of the town’s folk hung out at the bar, too. Guess they felt safe, seeing as they were almost always surrounded by off-duty cops and firemen.
Rory pushed down his unease over her reaction and forced a grin as he pulled the truck into the lot. It was pretty crowded, but he expected nothing less. It was karaoke night. While he dared get on stage, he enjoyed listening to others try their best to hold a tune. He figured Kimber might enjoy letting go and, who knows, maybe sing.
As they climbed out of the SUV, Rory was slightly worried he’d made a mistake. Kimber had said nothing about where they were, nor had she looked at him. It was as if her mind was stuck on what he’d said on the ride over.
“Kimber, wait up.” He jogged to catch up as she pushed through the entrance.
The sound of someone belting out Janis Joplin’s ‘Bobby McGee’ blared throughout the bar. Kimber looked over her shoulder at Rory and grinned.
“Karaoke night, huh?”
“Yeah, I just thought maybe you’d have some fun. Maybe even sing.”
“I bet they don’t have auto-tune here.” She smirked. “Good thing I can sing.”
Rory followed her toward a table in the back. She commandeered the space and slid into the booth. He watched as she scanned the bar and sighed.
“You want to sing?”
His hands reached across the wood surface and tugged hers into them. She glanced down at their entwined hands and smiled. At least she wasn't pulling them away. That had to say something. Rory wasn’t sure what he’d said that had offended her. Unless someone had accused her of using audio enhancement to sing, he wasn’t sure what happened in the SUV.
“Hey, I’m sorry if what I said in the car upset you. I guess I’m just jaded from my time babysitting Hollywood.”
“It’s fine, Rory.” She waved him off. “It’s just… you were probably right. They are most definitely singing what they’re told. It’s that way in the business. If you want to make it big, you practically have to sell your soul.”
“Is that what happened to you? Is that why you came home?”
She held his gaze as if searching for the words to respond. Rory held his breath. He needed her to open up to him and tell him whatever it was she was hiding. He believed Jaxson wasn’t far off—her trip home was more than wanting to help her brother. She was hiding something, and he was determined to show her that she could trust him. Hell, he wanted her to give him her worries and let him in.
“I think I’m going to go pick a song. Order us some wings and beer.” She shot him a sassy grin. “You were right… I needed this.” He watched as she hurried over to the DJ and spoke to him.
“Hey, handsome.” The waitress appeared at his side, her perfume nearly gagging him. “What can I get ya?”
Rory placed his order with the waitress, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “A dozen mild wings and a pitcher of Michelob Ultra, please.” His tone was casual, but his mind was elsewhere, reflecting on the evening's events, which gave the illusion he was waiting for the waitress to do something.
The waitress, perhaps misreading the situation, leaned in a little too close for comfort. Her hand rested gently on his shoulder as she asked in a soft tone, “Anything else?”
Before Rory could respond, Kimber's voice sliced through the moment, sharp and unexpected. “Pretty sure he told you everything. So how about you take your hand off his arm and be on your way?” Her words were laced with a protective edge, a clear boundary being drawn.
The waitress seemed taken aback, her eyes darting rapidly between Rory and Kimber, as if trying to gauge the dynamics of the situation. “Um… sure. Sorry, sugar. I’ll get this in right now,” she stammered, her demeanor shifting from flirtatious to flustered in an instant.
Kimber watched the waitress abscond hastily, almost as if fleeing from an uncomfortable situation. Rory, unable to contain himself, burst into laughter. The tension of the moment dissolved into humor.
“Damn, woman. I think you scared the shit outta our waitress,” he exclaimed, his laughter ringing out in the space between them.
Kimber, unapologetic yet slightly embarrassed, shrugged. “Sorry. I can’t stand women like her. You’re obviously with me, even if we aren’t…” She gestured vaguely between them, struggling to find the right words. “You know.”
“No, darling. I don’t know,” Rory teased, playing along, his voice laced with a hint of flirtation. He reached out, taking her hand gently and brushing his thumb across her knuckles. “What aren’t we?”
Kimber let out a frustrated growl, her emotions tangled. “You know… a couple,” she finally admitted, revealing the unspoken tension between them.
Before Rory could delve deeper into their conversation, Kimber's name was called out.
“Looks like I’m up,” she announced, a hint of relief in her voice as she used the opportunity to escape the intensity of their exchange.
“We aren’t done talking, Kimber,” Rory called out after her, his eyes following her as she moved toward the stage, a playful smirk on her face. She gave him a small wave, a gesture that was both a goodbye and a promise of more conversations to come.
As Kimber gracefully made her way onto the stage, Rory's attention momentarily shifted when he noticed his boss, Atlas, approaching him. Rory acknowledged Atlas with a subtle nod, tipping his jaw in a silent greeting as Atlas took a seat across from him.
“How’s your girl doing?”
Rory responded to Atlas's question with a light-hearted chuckle. “My girl?” he echoed, the term seeming almost foreign in the perspective of his and Kimber's complex relationship.
“Yep, dipshit. Your girl,” Atlas retorted with a familiar, teasing bluntness that was characteristic of their relationship.
“About to sing, actually.” He glanced toward the stage, his gaze softening. “Thought it would take her mind off things.”
Atlas was about to comment, perhaps to tease Rory further or offer some insight, but his words were halted as Kimber's voice began to fill the room. The sound of her singing seemed to cast a spell over the entire space. The melody of Natalie Jane’s ‘Intrusive Thoughts’ started to play, but it was Kimber's unique rendition that captivated everyone. Her voice, smoky and resonant, weaved through the lyrics with an emotional depth that you could almost touch.
The hair on Rory’s arms stood at attention as he lost himself in the music. He felt as though Kimber was communicating with him through her performance, sending him a message that was both intimate and profound. The emotions the song stirred in him were intense, leaving him with a sense of longing he didn’t understand. Rory couldn't help but feel that Kimber was revealing something personal, something meaningful, through her song.
“Damn, Rory. I think you’re screwed, brother.”
The crowd roared, demanding an encore. Kimber smiled and nodded toward the DJ. This time, the song that started nearly took the air out of his lungs. It wasn’t a love song, per se. It was a message of hope, a plea for someone to save her. And God damn, Rory planned on doing just that. He was so lost in the words of Alexander Stewart’s ‘If you only knew,’ he didn’t see Atlas get up. When Kimber hit the last note of the song, Rory was already across the floor. He reached up and plucked her off the stage, and pulled her body to his. His lips covered hers, making the patrons go even crazier with applause.
“Thanks.” Kimber laughed against his lips. “I take it you liked the songs?”
“Liked?” Rory set her down, “No, Darling, I loved them.”
Rory led her to the table where their food and beer were waiting. He pressed one more kiss to her lips before helping her slide into her seat. Sitting across from her, he just stared in wonder.
“Darling, you’ve got a hell of a gift, so I’m going to need you to tell me why you left Nashville instead of trying to get a recording deal.”
“I was burned out.” Kimber seemed to choose her words wisely. “I’ve been at it a long time, Rory. And well… I just needed a break.”