Love Song [Instrumental] (Hidden Springs #1)

14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

“Callie, wait.”

The words were out of his mouth before he had any idea what he planned to say. She stopped at the opening in the fence and looked back at him.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“Down to the lake,” she called back. “I need to clear my head.”

His mind filled with images from long ago. The minuscule bikini. The unnecessary rescue. The talk that had followed. Their “encounter” had branded him in a way that he was only now coming to understand.

“Isn’t it a little cold for a swim?” he asked.

“I was just going to sit by the water,” she answered. “I need some lake time.”

“Why don’t we take out the canoe?” he asked.

She cocked her head to one side.

“Don’t you have other things…. I mean, you don’t need to rearrange your day for me.”

“No worries. Give me a sec to find a jacket,” he said. “It will be cooler on the water. ”

He stepped into the cottage before Callie could back out. It didn’t take long to strip off his sweaty t-shirt, find a clean one, and grab his jacket off the hook. He was back outside in less than a minute.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said. Callie hesitated for only a second before following him down the hill.

The dock rested in pieces on the shore, stacked like a set of white Lincoln Logs. They would have to do this the old fashioned way, launching the canoe from the shore in front of the boathouse, which formed a natural ramp. He hauled up the garage door on the boathouse and hoisted the canoe off its rack, carrying it a few feet and dropping it gently half in and half out of the water.

“Could you grab the paddles, please?” he asked, pointing to where they hung on the wall. She nodded, bringing them to the boat and laying them gently inside. Adam hung on to the end of the canoe, making sure it stayed put. He didn’t want to have to go wading into the lake after it.

“Have you been canoeing before?” he asked, hoping the answer was ‘yes.’ Just because she had grown up on the lake didn’t mean that she had tried every single water sport.

She didn’t bother to answer, hopping nimbly into the stern, picking her way up to the bow and grabbing a paddle along the way. She sat in the front properly, with her rear end resting on the bench and her knees on the keel of the boat. She looked back over her shoulder at him.

“Well? Are you coming or what?”

He grinned. This was going to be fun. He leaned down to shove off, timing his push and his leap so that he landed gently in the boat as the stern slid into the water. He had no desire to get his shoes wet, or to humiliate himself by tripping. Like any male over the age of twelve, he wanted to impress the girl.

“Let’s go this way,” she called over her shoulder, pointing down the shoreline to her left. “I’ll show you one of my favorite spots.”

“Lead on.”

She paddled with quiet confidence, and he matched her, stroke for stroke. They did rather well, considering they had never canoed together before. For Adam, the most challenging part was keeping his eyes up and his attention on the sunshine, the water, and the steady rhythm of their paddling. With each stroke, Callie leaned forward slightly, revealing a swath of pale peach skin below her windbreaker and above the waistband of her jeans. As much as he enjoyed the view, he needed to pay attention to what he was doing.

“So how are things with the band,” he asked.

Her back stiffened, and it occurred to him that a canoe was not the best place to have a conversation. He couldn’t tell much about what she was thinking by looking at her back.

“They’re fine,” she said, but the way she said it didn’t sound like things were fine.

Adam waited for a few strokes, but she didn’t expand on her answer. This was almost as much fun as trying to have a conversation with Danny.

“Aren’t you guys touring this summer?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Any new music?”

“The first album just came out,” she said. “That’s what we’ll be playing on the tour. I’m supposed to be working on the second one right now.”

“Is this what you do when you’re writing new music?” he asked. “You come back home?” What he really wanted to know was how often she might be back. The idea that he might run into Callie on a regular basis threw a whole new variable into his calculations. Talk about an unknown quantity.

“Usually I stay in Nashville, but I need some time to rest my voice and recharge. ”

So this was a kind of sabbatical for her. A break from her life rather than a change in course. It explained her raspy voice, but not her lack of enthusiasm.

“So you like the life?” he asked. “Seems like it would be rough to be on the road all the time.”

“We’re not on the road all the time,” she answered. “We take breaks to rehearse new music and record in the studio.”

“You don’t have daydreams about settling down?”

She snorted. “You sound like my mother.”

Adam sighed. This was not going well. He just wanted to connect the Callie in front of him with the Callie that he remembered, and he couldn’t find the thread that joined them. She seemed like a different person—one who played a vitally important role in his future with Danny.

“What do you want to know, Adam?” Callie’s direct question surprised him.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“If you want to know something, you should just ask. We know each other well enough for that, I think.”

He really wished that he could see her face.

“Nothing. Everything.” He sighed. “It’s been nearly a decade. A lot has happened.”

“The questions can wait,” she said firmly. “We’re here.”

They had reached a shallow, sheltered spot where the shoreline curved. A screen of trees helped to calm the water and protected them from the wind. Callie placed her paddle across the gunwales of the canoe. Adam did the same, and they drifted for a moment before coming to rest beneath the bare hanging branches of a stand of willow trees.

Callie turned her face up to catch the sunlight that filtered through the willow strands. Her long blond curls streamed down her back, the sunlight dancing along the highlights in her hair, much the same way that it sparkled on the ripples in the water. He envied her tranquility, her ability to sink into the moment. He wanted that for himself.

Callie could have stayed in that moment all day, with her face tipped toward the sun, eyes closed, the canoe gently rocking in the water. But she wasn’t alone. She could sense the solidity of Adam’s presence behind her, waiting. He had questions, and she wasn’t sure how to answer him.

When she felt calm and centered, she opened her eyes and, pivoting carefully, turned fully around to face him. The sun highlighted the contours of his face but revealed nothing of what he might be feeling. She took a deep breath, then began.

“There’s no way to compress the last nine years into a neat little story for you. There was college, and the band, and then the long, hard slog to get where we are today. It’s not exactly fodder for a family movie.”

“Fair enough,” he answered. “But if you’re spending time with Danny, I’d really like to know more than just the tabloid headlines.”

“Oh, God.”

“That bad?” He raised on eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“You read that crap?” she hedged.

“Let’s think about it from the perspective of a parent choosing a music teacher for a child. Where should I get my information?”

“From me,” she said, appalled at the idea that the tabloids could have the final word.

“So fill me in,” he said.

She sighed. Where to begin?

“The reality of life with the band is pretty boring, but the press is always looking for a story. We’ve only made the majors a few times—the tabloids you see at the supermarket checkout. If you Google us, you’ll mostly find the gossip from Nashville, the tattle websites, that kind of thing. A couple of the guys in the band have struggled with drug and alcohol problems. They’ve been in rehab a few times, and Ash did some jail time.”

“But you never got caught up in any of that?” probed Adam.

“Of course not,” she said. “I can’t stop them from being idiots, but I can walk away from it myself.”

He nodded, his face impassive.

“What else?” he asked.

He waited while she struggled to find the words. How do you reduce ten years of Brian to a few sentences?

“Until recently, I was involved in a relationship with our front man. We formed the band in college.”

That was a good start. Keep it simple. Stick to the facts.

“Brian has trouble saying no to women,” she continued, making the understatement of the century. “Although we weren’t married, I had certain…expectations regarding fidelity. He did not share those expectations.”

“I saw some headlines last week,” said Adam, his voice gentler than it had been a moment before.

She closed her eyes. “You saw that,” she repeated.

“I did.”

She sighed.

“The recent coverage was both national and ugly. You’ll find articles that question the status of our relationship and what a breakup would mean for the future of the band. This round included ‘caught in the act’ naked pictures of Brian with our three new backup singers.” She cleared her throat, drawing strength from a rising tide of anger. “For me, it was the last straw.”

“So you left.”

She nodded.

“You’re not really having a problem with your voice?” he asked.

“No, that part is true. It’s the reason we hired the backup singers in the first place.” She smiled, hating the fact that she had become cynical already. “I auditioned them myself, hand-picked my own replacements.”

Callie finally broke eye contact, staring across the water. She couldn’t quite reclaim that feeling of tranquility from a few moments before, so she asked the one question burning in her mind.

“Do you want me to stop my sessions with Danny?” She stared at the far shore, waiting for his verdict.

“No.”

She looked up at him in surprise, relief swamping her turbulent emotions.

“Really?” she asked, a smile breaking through. “I thought for sure you’d pull the plug.”

“Are you trying to change my mind?”

“No! I mean…I just….” She took a deep breath. “Thank you. I appreciate your trust.”

His mouth twisted ruefully.

“Let’s call it a calculated risk.”

“I can work with that,” she replied, her smile widening.

“So why is this your favorite spot?” asked Adam, shifting his position so that he sat on the bench rather than kneeling.

She breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for a change of topic and happy to talk about something other than paparazzi and cheating boyfriends.

“In the summer,” she began, “when the willow branches hang down low, this spot reminds me of that scene from The Little Mermaid .”

He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s silly, I know,” she said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Seriously? It’s a classic. It’s animated, based on the fairy tale, and there’s a scene set in a place like this. ”

“And why do you like that scene so much?” He seemed honestly curious, without the judgment she had come to expect from Brian. And now for the embarrassing part, she thought, scrambling for an explanation that did not shed too much light on her preteen fantasies.

“Well, the mermaid and the prince are in a rowboat, and there’s this great song…. Anyway, the girl—she can’t talk, because of this curse—she’s trying to find a way to communicate with the prince, but he doesn’t understand.”

She wasn’t making any sense, and the mystified look on his face made her want to laugh.

“We’re talking about a kids’ movie, right? Rated G?” He raised an eyebrow. “What exactly happens on this boat?”

“Not what you’re thinking!” Callie couldn’t hold back the laughter. “It’s one of those perfect moments. Sunset. Music. They’re about to kiss, and the whole world stops, but then the minions of the bad guy—bad witch, technically—tip over the boat, and the moment is ruined.”

“Minions?” he asked.

Her breath hitched, and she looked up at him sharply. Brian would make a snide remark at this point, squelching the effervescence of the moment.

“I like that word,” he said, tipping his head to the side as if giving the matter serious thought. “Much better than ‘henchmen.’ If I were a villain I would definitely have minions.”

She relaxed and dumped all thoughts of Brian overboard. She was living her life in this moment, with this man, and she didn’t want to ruin it by thinking about Brian.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, resting his hands on the gunwales and leaning toward her. “The prince is leaning forward, right?”

She nodded, suppressing a smile. They were going to flirt again. It was lovely, this feeling of being attractive and clever and…wanted. It had been much too long .

“And the mermaid—wait, does she have a tail and everything?”

Callie shook her head.

“Right. No tail. Mermaid with legs. Got it.” He readjusted his grip, which rocked the boat. “So she’s leaning forward, too.”

Callie nodded, but she didn’t move.

“Lean forward,” he said in a stage whisper. Her eyes widened.

“You’re not going to tip us over, are you? I mean, I love the scene, but I have no interest in living it. The water is really, really cold.” She leaned forward anyway, scooting her hands along the gunwales until they were a few inches from his paddle.

“No, I’m not going to tip us over,” he said. “I’m just trying to get a feel for the scene.”

He looked up at the willow branches and then down at the sparkling water before looking back in her eyes, which were now inches away from his. Even though she knew they were only flirting, she found it hard to breathe properly.

“Very romantic,” he decreed. “Did you ever bring a boyfriend here at sunset to make out?”

She shook her head. She had thought about bringing Adam, all those years ago, but they had run out of time.

“Good,” he said softly.

She held her breath, unmoving, clutching the sides of the canoe for balance. The moment seemed to stretch out in time, suspended. They were so close she could feel his breath on her lips. She blinked, her gaze dropping to his mouth, not quite brave enough to close the gap between them, but hoping for a wave of courage. Were they really going to open this door again?

“You know,” she whispered, her eyes still on his mouth, “they never did kiss. This is the moment when the boat tips over. ”

She watched his lips twist into a rueful smile. He didn’t pull back, but he didn’t close the gap, either.

Sunlight infused the moment with color, searing it into her memory. She looked back up into his eyes, sinking into the dark blue depths. She didn’t think about the past or the future. Only this moment mattered.

So she kissed him.

Callie lost all sense of time. The world was reduced to sunlight, water, and Adam. She drank him in, breathed him in, wanting more. She tried to lift one hand, but felt the balance of the canoe shift beneath her. She grabbed the side again.

He laughed against her mouth. She inched closer so she could explore his jawline. He kissed the hollow at the base of her neck. She found the tender spot where his jaw met his ear and inhaled the subtle scent of his neck.

A gust of wind brought them back to reality. With a groan, he pulled back, breathing hard. She swayed toward him, off balance, unwilling to let him go so soon.

“Wait,” he said hoarsely.

“Why….”

“I can’t—”

The boat swayed again, and she swayed with it, closing the gap between them. She could sense his hesitation, feel him holding back. She didn’t want to hold back. She had wasted too many years of her life already. So she let go of the boat and grabbed his shoulders, the boat rocking wildly. She scooted closer, so that only the narrow shaft of the paddle separated their bodies. There was no way for him to pull back without dunking them both.

“Callie,” he breathed, when her attention strayed to his neck. He bent his head, his mouth pressing against her temple. “Callie, please, we have to—”

She lifted her head just as he ducked lower.

“Ow!” He jerked back, one hand going to his nose, the other still gripping the gunwale. The boat lurched. Callie could feel it start to roll and grabbed for the sides. Adam moved at the same time, in the same direction, throwing them even more off balance. The canoe flipped, dumping them both into the freezing cold water.

“Cold, cold, cold!” shrieked Callie as she flailed in the shallow water, trying to find her footing.

They scrambled to their feet at the same time, Adam spitting curses as he grabbed for the canoe. The water barely reached their knees, but it burned with a fiery cold that could quickly become dangerous. He needed to get Callie back home—and fast.

“Your paddle,” he barked, reaching for his own which had started to float away. She grabbed hers, anchoring it between her knees, then got a firm hold on the bow of the canoe. He met her eyes and she nodded.

“On three,” he said. “One…two…three.”

They lifted the upside-down canoe out of the water, then flipped it, so that it landed upright in the water with an icy splash. His hands were already going numb, but he gritted his teeth and steadied the canoe while she climbed in. She was small and would feel the effects of the cold first. Her shaking hands could barely grip the paddle. He climbed in behind her, dripping, and wrapped his stiff fingers around the handle.

They raced back, the furious pace warming them just enough to keep going. With a final burst of speed, they grounded the boat on the rocky beach. Callie hopped out first and held the prow steady as Adam made his exit. He yanked the boat out of the water, leaving it beached at the entrance to the boathouse.

She moved to hang her paddle back on the wall, but he stopped her .

“Leave it,” he said, taking the paddle from her and dropping it in the boat. “I’ll deal with it later. We need to dry off and warm up.”

She nodded, her lips blue and her teeth chattering. She looked like she was going to fall over, so he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

He half-guided, half-dragged her up the hill to her back door. Her hands were still shaking, so he opened the screen door and the inner door, shepherding her inside. He started unzipping her wet jacket, but she stopped him.

“I’ve g-g-got it,” she protested, pushing his hands out of the way and clumsily pulling down the zipper.

“Are you sure?” he asked, wondering if she would be able to turn the water faucet in order to run a bath or take a shower. “Is anybody else here to help you?”

She shook her head. “G-g-go home, already. You need t-t-to get warm as m-m-much as I d-d-do. I’ll b-b-be fine.”

He hesitated. She was peeling the wet jacket off her arms and revealing the wet white t-shirt underneath. He couldn’t help but notice the fact that she was very, very cold. A part of him wanted to stay, to make sure that she was able to remove all that wet clothing and start the shower. What if she couldn’t unhook that lacy bra? Or turn the faucet? They both needed to get warm. If they shared body heat, maybe—

“Unless you want t-t-to join me?” she asked, looking hopeful.

He shook his head. Even though his body (and most of his brain) was shouting ‘Yes!’ a small part of him still knew better. His life was complicated enough.

“I’ll be back in an hour to check on you,” he said as he stepped back outside. “Go get warm.”

She frowned, but he shut the door in her face.

He turned toward his cottage, walking, then breaking into a jog. If he were honest with himself, he would have to call it running away.

Only later, when his hot shower had faded to lukewarm, did he let himself think about that kiss, that wet t-shirt, and how much he would have liked to help Callie get warm.

As promised, Adam showed up on her doorstep an hour later.

“Are you warm again?” he asked. His hair was still damp, and he wore a few more layers than were really necessary. He noticed that she was overdressed as well, her face flushed.

She nodded. “Nothing like a bath to warm you up from the inside out.”

He could think of a much better way to warm her up from the inside out, but pushed the thought aside. He needed to stop this thing between them before it could go any farther.

“Callie, I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“This,” he said, moving a step closer so that she had to look up to meet his eyes. “Us. Kissing.”

“Oh. That.” Her eyes dropped to his mouth and she smiled slowly. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do.”

He must have surprised her, because her breath hitched, but she kept her eyes fixed on his mouth. He couldn’t stop thinking about her mouth, either—thinking that the mistake had already been made. There couldn’t be much harm in one last kiss.

He reached up to weave his fingers through her hair until he clasped the nape of her neck in his hand. He tipped her head back so that their eyes met.

“I know exactly what came over you.”

Before she could react, he covered her mouth with his, tasting, teasing, gently biting her lower lip, then exploring her jaw, her ear, and the sensitive hollow behind it. With his other hand he caressed her cheek, his fingers trailing across her scar before they too plunged into her hair. She grabbed on to the front of his jacket with both hands, making him grateful for solid footing.

He stilled, resting his temple against hers. There was no cold water to bail him out this time.

“I still can’t do this,” he breathed against her ear.

Neither of them moved.

“Why not?” she whispered fiercely, nipping at his earlobe.

He groaned, one hand tracing her spine down her back and then pulling her hips against him.

“It’s complicated. There’s a custody issue and I can’t—” He pulled back slightly, so that his forehead rested against hers and he could look into her eyes. “I won’t risk getting involved with you. Not while this custody thing is still unresolved.”

“What makes me so risky?” She pulled back, insulted, but he didn’t let go. When she backed into the doorframe, he moved with her, hips moving forward to grind against hers. Her legs parted, just a little, and one leg slid up to wrap around his thigh.

“You’re leaving,” he growled.

“True,” she whispered, leaning in to bite his lower lip, “but not today. In fact, I’m on my own today. Nobody home but me.”

“You have no idea how much I would like to take this inside.”

She wasn’t making it easy for him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and took a decisive step back. When he dropped his hands to his sides, she continued to hang on to his jacket.

“So show me,” she suggested, tugging him closer.

He kissed her firmly before pulling away again, this time retreating as far as the driveway .

“I can’t. I need to be on best behavior until this custody thing is sorted out. And then, well, by then you’ll be gone.”

“But nobody would need to know….”

He laughed. “Callie, this is a small town. Somehow, one way or another, everyone would know.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She had grown up here, and knew all too well what he was just coming to understand: small-town gossip travels faster than anything else in the universe.

“So that’s it?” she asked. “We pretend this never happened?”

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but yeah. That’s the plan.”

She crossed her arms, still leaning on the doorframe, looking like a kid who had been given a time-out. Then she smiled, and he started to worry.

“Fine.”

“That’s it?” he asked warily.

“If you change your mind,” she said, turning to go back inside, “you know where to find me.”

This time, she was the one to close the door in his face.