1. Valona
Valona
“O h my goodness, these cookies are incredible!” Pippa gushed over my cookies, and even though she was very pregnant and hungry all the time, I sat a little taller with pride. “I’m definitely a chocolate chunk convert.”
“I thought you might be,” I replied with a hint of smug satisfaction. “How are you feeling?”
Pippa blushed prettily and finished chewing her cookie. “Sorry, I’m just a ravenous beast this past month. Were you like this in the second trimester?”
“Are you kidding? I was pregnant with twins, I’m not sure I stopped eating the entire thirty-six weeks. And I was younger than I am today.”
Pippa narrowed her gaze in my direction. “Low blow, Berryman.”
I laughed and shook my head. “True. Have some more almond milk,” I told her as I poured another tall glass.
“Thanks. Now let’s get back to the topic at hand.”
My brows dipped in confusion. “Was there a topic at hand, other than my delicious cookies?”
“Damn right there was,” she punctuated her statement with a smack on the kitchen table where we sat and chatted over cookies and milk for her, cookies and coffee for me. “I want to know about your new neighbor. What do you know?”
It was the one topic I’d hoped my eagle eyed best friend wouldn’t bring up, because my new neighbor was gorgeous. Not good-looking-for-his-age kind of hot either, no Trey Fine was an incredible specimen of a man. Too incredible for my peace of mind. “You met Keri earlier. Her uncle bought the house next door for them to live in.” Pippa’s blue eyes missed nothing, and as happy as I was to have her back home in Carson Creek, it was impossible to hide things from your best friend when you saw her every day. “What?” Her knowing stare was hard to ignore. It was like a living, breathing thing, a third person in the kitchen with us.
She tried her best—and failed—to look innocent. “What do you mean, what ?”
“You’re looking at me weird.”
Pippa giggled. “That’s because you’re blushing like a school girl, and acting weird. So tell me what’s going on. Does he have a third eye? A pot belly? Tattoos on his face?”
Any of that would have been preferable to the overall hotness and sex appeal of my new neighbor. “No,” I sighed. “He’s gorgeous. Incredibly and stupidly gorgeous.”
“No! Seriously?”
I nodded gravely. “It’s annoying.”
She laughed again. “Oh come on, he can’t be that hot. Maybe you’re just horny because you need to get some.”
“I wish that’s what this was,” I told her honestly. “The truth is Pippa, that gorgeous doesn’t even do him justice. He’s young first of all. With over six-feet of muscle, all long and lean hotness. Then there’s the chestnut hair that’s always perfectly disheveled like he just rolled out of bed, and that hair annoyingly makes his blue eyes an even deeper shade of blue. Like if sapphire and royal blue had a baby and added a dash of glitter.”
“Holy hotness, are you for real or just trying to get a rise out of a pregnant lady?” Pippa eyed me skeptically.
“Sadly, I’m for real. It’s pathetic, Pip. I feel like an old woman ogling a kid. It’s sad. I’m sad.” He was too young for me to be drooling over and I knew that, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. “Every time he’s around, I stumble over my words, I stare like a freak and I get so embarrassed I just turn and walk away before I really humiliate myself.”
She struggled to get up out of her chair, but I put a hand on my best friend’s shoulder. “Let me up, woman. I have to see this mythical creature for myself.”
“I’m sure you’ll see him around town. Eventually.” The longer I could keep her from setting eyes on the masterpiece that was Trey Fine, the easier my life would be.
“Okay,” she agreed and relaxed into the chair. “When you say young, are we talking nineteen young, or thirty young? Because there’s a big difference.”
And that was exactly why I didn’t want her to know about Trey. “It doesn’t matter, because finding a man isn’t high on my list of priorities, my career is. I already paid for six months of rent for the studio space, Pip. I have to make this work.” Not that me or my twin girls were hurting for money, because the one thing my dead husband Rodney had done throughout our marriage was make a lot of money, and some really good investments. He was also preparing to leave us with all that money when his bad ticker caught up to him.
“I thought things were going well? You’ve been so busy lately.”
I nodded, because that much was true. “I have been, you know how Carson Creek is.” This was a small town and we took care of each other, even if we did it with an intrusive, gossiping and meddling kind of love. “But it’s been wedding photos and homecoming. The high school principal even asked if I was available for senior photos.”
“Yet you sound like you’ve been asked to photograph death row inmates,” she offered with her usual sarcasm and a hint of confusion.
I sighed, because Pippa was a successful restaurant manager several times over, so obviously she didn’t get it. She’d been working and making her mark on the world for decades while I was just getting started.
“Death row inmates would be more interesting to photograph.” I sighed, unsure how to explain it without sounding like a whiny little brat. “I just want to be inspired Pip. I don’t need to work just for the sake of having a job and bringing home a paycheck, I want to be inspired by my work. I want to feel passion or what I do.”
“All right, what would you like to do?”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s the question isn’t it?”
“A pretty important one, I’d say.” Pippa flashed a toothy grin and picked up another cookie. “So let’s hear it. I know you’ve got a picture in your mind of how your photo studio should look. Tell me.”
“I don’t mind subsidizing my passion with studio photos for the high school, baby’s first pictures and all that. It’s a great way to keep my skills sharp, and keep me operating in the black.”
“But?” She rolled her wrist in the universal sign for get on with it, sister.
“But I’d love to do boudoir photos, maybe even head shots for the wannabe musicians flooding the area. I want to sell photographs of the beautiful Tennessee landscape.” It had always been my dream to travel the world with my camera, capturing images of foreign people, unique landscapes and different cultures. But an early marriage and a decade of miscarriages had shifted my priorities. Instead of being a divorcee starting over, I was a widow who finally got to pursue her dreams. “Does that make sense?”
“Of course it does, and I think you should do that. When you have time, head out to the mountains and snap some photos. Show the wildflowers as they start to bloom and sell them, inside the studio and online. Keep going from there.”
“It sounds so simple when you say it.”
Pippa laughed. “That’s because it’s easy for me to say, but it’s not easy to do. Pursuing a goal or a passion never is. It’s going to take work Val, but I know you’ve never shied away from hard work.”
“True.” But Pippa made a good point, I should just do it. Grab my gear and take photos of something, anything that captured my attention. “Thanks Pip.”
“You’re welcome. Now help me up so I can creep on your hot young neighbor.”
With a laugh I asked, “Gearing up to become a dirty old lady?” I gripped her forearms and Pippa gripped mine back and we worked together to get her to her feet.
“Damn right I am.” She rubbed her growing belly and nodded towards the front bay window just as the doorbell rang. Pippa’s blue eyes rounded in shock. “Maybe he’s shirtless and sweaty and in need of some ice cold lemonade?”
I rolled my eyes and beat her to the front door where I hesitated for just a moment before opening the door. “Ryan, hi. Come on in.”
Pippa’s husband was rock star gorgeous in his own right, but he didn’t hold a candle to the man next door. “Hey Val. Good girl talk?”
“Yep. Write any songs lately?”
His smile widened. “So many. It turns out that being in love produces even better music than heartbreak.”
“Good. I think The Gregory Brothers fan groups might start an intervention once your new album drops.” I turned to Pippa, but she hadn’t made it from the kitchen yet. “Pippa bring the cookies with you, Ryan’s here.”
Not even five seconds later, the distinct sound of three sets of excited footsteps pounded down the stairs. “Uncle Ryan is here!” Bridget made it to the bottom of the steps first and wrapped her arms around her newfound uncle.
“Hey kiddo.” Ryan was still getting used to the affection of pre-teen girls. “How’s it going?”
“Good,” Belle added after getting her own hug. “We’re just hanging out with our new friend Keri.” She motioned to the little girl in cut-off denim shorts and a faded Allman Brothers t-shirt. “Keri, this is our Uncle, Ryan.”
Keri’s big brown eyes widened comically. “Holy crap, you’re Ryan Gregory of TGB!”
Ryan flashed a sheepish smile and ran a hand through his long hair. “Guilty. Aren’t you a little young to be a fan of ours?”
She nodded with a half-shrug. “My momma, Martina, is a huge fan of you and your band. Well she was, but she died a few months ago.” The weight of her sadness wore on Keri for a quick moment, but it was replaced by a wistful smile. “She always said you were a poet, and we used to dance around the living room to your songs. I know them all,” she said proudly.
Ryan’s smile of surprise slid into sincerity as he held a hand out. “In that case, it’s always nice to meet a fan and fellow music lover.”
Keri took his hand and gave it a good strong shake. “Wow, this is…incredible. Could you maybe, if it’s not too much to ask, sign my momma’s favorite TGB shirt? She saw your show in Alabama on the last tour.”
“Absolutely.”
“Holy crap!” Those were the little girl’s last words before she took off out the front door like a starter pistol only she could hear had sounded.
“At least somebody loves me,” Ryan said as Pippa entered the living room with crumbs on her mouth and the plate of cookies in her hand.
“I love you plenty, but these cookies are changing my life.” She made her way to her new husband and tilted her head up for a kiss.
I should have looked away, that would have been the polite thing to do, but it was such a treat, a rare gift to witness the kind of love that had always existed between Pippa and Ryan. Their road to happily ever after was decades in the making, but now they were happy. So very happy. Some days I thought I wanted that again, that easy companionship and love. Not necessarily a marriage, but a loving and supportive partnership. And sex. I could really use some hot, up-against-the-wall sex with a man who found me attractive, no hot .
“All right you two, there are kids present.”
“Go ahead,” Belle offered and shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “This is a good way to learn proper kissing technique.”
Ryan jumped back with a shocked look. “Um, what?”
“Okay I’m back,” Keri said, slightly out of breath but with a huge beaming grin. “I brought a marker too just in case you don’t carry one around with you for occasions such as this.” She held the shirt out to Ryan, hands slightly shaking.
“This shirt looks a little big for you, I’ll see if I can find one in your size so you don’t lose your momma’s scent.”
Keri blinked away tears and sucked in a deep breath. “Thank you kindly, Mr. Gregory.” She shook her head until she had a handle on her emotions. “Sign it to Martina please, I know Momma will get a good kick out of that.”
Ryan signed the shirt with a flourish before he handed it back to Keri with a grin. “Read it.”
“Martina, thanks for making the Mobile show the best of the tour. From one music lover to another. Ryan Gregory.” Keri looked up at him like he was a real life superhero. “You’ve made this girl happier than a pig sloshing around in the mud.” She turned with a triumphant smile at Belle and Bridget. “Y’all are so lucky.” She gasped and turned to Pippa with wide eyes. “The Color of My Heartbreak. Right?”
Pippa froze with one hand on her belly, a cookie half way to her mouth. “Uh, sure?”
The room was filled with a shocked silence only broken by a familiar deep voice that was as smooth as honey. “I hope she’s not bothering you all.” Trey Fine, in the flesh.
All the very fine flesh.