Chapter 7
On her final evening in Daymont, Mia drove downtown to purchase a premade salad from the market. No food remained in the refrigerator, and after the joy the cottage’s kitchen had brought her, wilted lettuce for dinner was a dismal disappointment.
Woe had taken up residence the last few days, the home devoid of any laughter or joy. She continued tinkering with her new composition, but each note now felt trite and tiresome, and the irony wasn’t lost on her. How fitting to end her stay in Daymont the same uninspiring way it had started.
Nevertheless, she secretly hoped for…something. A sign, perhaps. A bit naive, but she couldn’t help but wish for some nebulous force to push her toward the right path. Because, even after her strangely subdued separation from Travis, the thought of returning to New York left much to be desired.
After all, this town had enriched her life in a way fame and fortune never had. She didn’t miss the bright lights of Broadway, the red-carpet functions, or the industry gossip. The weeks away from the world of Maestro Mia had allowed regular old Mia Pelletier to have her time in the spotlight, and she was loath to throw in the towel now.
But the absence of Travis lingered, and she remembered his words from their first night together. This was his town. She was always meant to be nothing more than a visitor.
While returning to her car with salad in hand, her focus landed on the Daymont Symphony School, and regret festered like an untreated wound. But, as if by fate, the school’s door opened, and she smiled at a familiar face.
Eric, the foreman from Travis’s crew, ushered a preteen girl through the door and out onto the sidewalk. The spitting image of him, with identical vivid red hair and freckles, Eric’s daughter slung her backpack onto one shoulder and pushed circular wire-rim glasses further up the bridge of her nose. Noticing Mia, she stopped dead in her tracks, her jaw dropping to reveal a mouth of braces.
“Mia, hey!” Eric greeted before sending his daughter a knowing smile. “I didn’t realize you were still in town.”
“Leaving tomorrow,” she said, both words full of quiet misery.
“Dad, oh my God,” Eric’s daughter squeaked. “You said you knew somebody who knew somebody who knew somebody. That’s how you got my playbill signed. That’s what you said!”
“Yeah, well.” Eric shrugged and then admitted, “I lied.”
Mia laughed at the simple explanation and then said, “Don’t blame your dad. I asked him to keep it hush-hush.” She held out her hand for a proper introduction. “I’m Mia.”
In a daze, Eric’s daughter shook her hand limply. “Oh my God. Wow. Hi. I’m Alice.”
The hairs on the back of Mia’s neck stood up, and she struggled to pull in a breath.
If you were looking for a sign that this is where you’re supposed to be…I think you just found one.
“That was my granny’s name,” Mia choked out in a whisper. She took a second to compose herself, hand falling to her side before a smile returned in full force. “It’s nice to meet you, Alice.”
“You too. Sorry, I know it’s annoying, but can I get a picture?”
Mia nodded, and they posed in front of the music school. Dutiful dad Eric took several pictures from different angles, and Alice inspected the images before declaring his photography adequate. Then Alice launched into an overview of her lessons—she’d tried the piano, the violin, and the flute before focusing her efforts on the piano, much to Mia’s delight.
“It’s a good school,” Eric told Mia, gesturing to the colorful decals decorating the windows. “Hopefully, you can come back and visit again one day. Maybe experience it firsthand.”
“I have a feeling you haven’t seen the last of me,” she replied, buzzing with bliss.
On the drive back to the cottage, she relayed a silent thanks to her grandmother. She had never considered herself a spiritual or religious person, but there was no denying that her granny remained with her even in death, and nowhere had that connection felt stronger than during the past weeks in Daymont.
It was the final sign Mia needed to take the leap—a leap toward a life of music on her own modest and magnificent terms. And, if all went well, a life with the charismatic man who’d challenged her, inspired her, and helped rediscover that passion.
Flipping the blinker on, she turned the last corner toward the cottage. If Travis didn’t answer the phone, she’d track him down in person, starting with the DT. But that plan became moot when she pulled into the driveway, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of his green truck.
He sat on the porch steps, with his head hanging and his elbows resting on his knees. A rhapsody of epic proportions burst from her chest as she stepped out of the car, their gazes meeting as he raised his head. Immediately shooting to his feet, he shifted his stance back and forth in a nervous manner as she approached.
“Hey,” he mumbled. “I, uh…I realized that I didn’t return the spare key.”
A lone key sat in the center of his outstretched palm. She’d given him the spare after their first night together so he could come and go as he pleased, trusting him implicitly. Trusting them .
Instead of taking the key, Mia ascended the stairs and plastered herself against his body, draping her arms over his shoulders for a hug. After being underwater for days, the sensation of his strong biceps circling her was like breaching the surface. His hands shifted to tilt her head back, planting a panty-dropping kiss on her mouth, and not a smidgen of doubt remained in her heart.
“This is fucking selfish of me to say,” he grunted against her lips, “but goddamn it, I don’t want you to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him breathlessly.
He took an incredulous step back. “But you?—”
“Yeah, I technically have the house until tomorrow, but it’s not like anyone’s moving in right after me,” she explained, knowing her agent only rented to the public during the busy summer season. “I’m sure I can work something out with Leslie for the time being.”
“Mia, come on. You can’t prolong this forever. You have a career to think about.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you just say you don’t want me to go?”
“Trust me, I don’t. The thought fucking kills me.” A weary breath left his mouth, and he held up the tiny key to the cottage between his thumb and index finger. “Hell, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized I had a convenient excuse to come see you.”
With a tender smile, she took the key and placed it back into the center of his palm, folding his fingers over it to keep it safe.
The column of his throat bobbed. “I want you here, but I also don’t want you giving things up for me. You’re—” He stopped to steady his emotions, inhaling deeply. Wonder shone in his eyes as he finished his thought. “You’re kind of a big fucking deal.”
Her hands traced the line of his jaw, savoring the prickling sensation of the bristles. She cupped his face and whispered, “I just want to be a big fucking deal to you.”
His head sagged with a relieved sigh, their foreheads touching gently. They breathed in tandem, the sound of the river in the distance a perfect soundtrack for the tender moment. But uncertainty and guilt still radiated from him, so Mia ushered him down onto the porch steps. Sitting side by side, she pleaded her case.
“I can compose music anywhere. I don’t have to be in New York to do that. It helps, sure, but it’s not the be-all and end-all. The piano in there has served me fine the last few weeks,” she said, nodding toward the house with a smile. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to teach. Like my granny.”
“I can attest you’d be great at that,” he confirmed.
His face shone with memories of their first night together. How she’d coached him through the nursery rhyme, both of them so strong in their naked vulnerability. The remembrance warmed her and buoyed her toward her main point.
“When I first came here, I felt like I needed to prove myself, you know? Compose some brilliant piece of music so I could return to the city triumphant. Put Maestro Mia back on the pedestal. But for what?” She shook her head, wondering how she’d ever been so consumed by her pride and ego. “That wouldn’t have made me happy. I don’t have to be Maestro Mia with you. I can just be Mia. And I can still have music.”
Travis took in her words, his tight features softening. “Well, I know better than to argue with you,” he joked.
That pulled a laugh out of her, and she nudged him with her elbow. He searched her face, his mouth opening and closing several times as words failed him.
“I kind of acted like a dick the last time I saw you,” he blurted out.
She scrunched up her face in faux confusion. “Kind of?”
Now it was his turn to give her a teasing nudge, but she took the opportunity to pull him closer, knowing support was needed for his mea culpa.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to introduce you to my brother. But what the hell was I supposed to say? Hey, Tommy, this is the woman I’m absolutely wild for, and she’ll be leaving my ass soon.” He stopped and cracked his knuckles, sorrow pulsating from each word. “Like before.”
“You don’t have to worry about that, because I’ve already told you that I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered fiercely in his ear. Then she rubbed her hand up and down his back. “But I hope things get better with your brother. Maybe one day.”
He scoffed, although Mia knew hope was still within him, buried deep down inside. “I guess we’ll see.”
Better than flat-out denial. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, so she’d take it. She knew firsthand that special things could happen in this town, so she tucked away her faith for a Flynn brothers’ reconciliation. Stranger things had happened.
As the sun disappeared, Travis found her gaze again and stared at her with amazement. “So we’re really gonna do this?” he asked. “You and me?”
“Sure are, Boss Man.”
With a growl, he pulled her into his lap and brought his mouth to hers for a scorching kiss. Mia didn’t know what the next few days, weeks, or months would bring, but uncertainty disappeared thanks to his talented lips. Stirred into a frenzy, she rocked her pelvis against his rapidly hardening erection, mewling with need.
“Let’s get inside before the neighbors call the cops,” Travis said with a laugh, pulling her to her feet.
They stumbled to the back door, his spare key coming in handy. Once inside the kitchen, he slammed the door and pressed her against it, crowding her willing body.
“First, fucking. Then dinner,” he stated. God love a man with a plan. Buttons slipped through their loops despite his fumbling fingers, until her shirt was finally splayed open. “What should we make?”
She burst into giggles. “There’s a sad salad sitting in the car. I don’t have any food in the house.”
That beloved cheeky grin of his returned as he tossed her blouse to the side. “How about the DT?”
Summer had arrived in Daymont, along with the tourists. The seasonal hotspots lining the coast opened as visitors invaded post-Memorial Day weekend, and after a life-changing autumn, a cozy winter, and a scenic spring, Mia got to experience her new home in all its summertime glory.
But even with the flashy new restaurants to enjoy, Mia would always prefer the DT.
Dee slammed an IPA onto the sticky bar as Mia thanked her with a demure smile, the memories of her bathroom hookup with Travis ever present. After a large gulp of beer, she sat back in her stool and sighed heavily. It had been a long week, and it wasn’t over yet. Daymont Symphony School’s annual piano recital was the following evening, and anxiety had ruled the roost during that afternoon’s final dress rehearsal. Mia adored her students beyond measure, so much so that she’d internalized their angst and stage fright.
Nevertheless, each day spent in the school’s studios was proof that she’d made the right choice to stay in Daymont. For the first time in ages, her notoriety had worked to her advantage when she walked into the school to ask if they were hiring, soon after reconciling with Travis. After the initial shock, the owner had recovered quickly and asked if she could start that weekend.
Leslie hadn’t been thrilled at Mia’s change of plans, but she’d allowed her to stay at the cottage under one condition: that Mia honor her commitment to meet with the independent film director. Instead of returning to New York, they’d met via video call and surprisingly hit it off. But after the discussion, Mia knew she wasn’t the right choice for that specific film, although she promised to stay in touch in the hopes they could collaborate in the future.
When the weather started to turn, she moved out of Leslie’s waterside cottage so renters could take advantage and her agent could turn a profit on the house. She missed it terribly sometimes, but Travis’s two-bedroom, single-story ranch home suited her just as well.
Speak of the devil . He slid onto the stool beside her and leaned in to brush his mouth against hers. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey, yourself. Funny seeing you here.”
He grinned and ordered his own beer. While waiting for their plate of nachos, they chatted about minor topics, but his right leg continually bounced like a jackhammer. By now, she’d learned all his quirks, and the nonstop tremors hinted that he yearned to make a confession.
The plate of cheesy chips arrived, and she bit the bullet. “You look like you want to say something,” she coaxed, scooping a handful of nachos onto her plate.
Travis found her gaze in the mirror. “I love you, you know.”
Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird as she kept her eyes on his reflection. “I know. I love you too.”
“I invited Thomas to the recital.”
Her neck cracked as she whipped her head toward him, her shock impossible to disguise. “You did?”
“I hope that’s okay.”
Hastily, she wiped her messy hands with her napkin and grabbed hold of his sturdy forearm, squeezing in a supportive manner. “Of course it’s okay.”
While she’d met Travis’s parents and brother over the holidays, it had been a particularly tense Christmas Eve dinner, and things remained precarious. But Mia didn’t want to push, so she let him set the tone with his family while secretly hoping he’d take baby steps toward a better relationship.
This wasn’t simply a baby step. It was a huge step, and her fragile hope for reconciliation strengthened.
Travis stuffed some chips into his mouth and chewed. “And he invited us to dinner after. At the Club House.”
Her brows jumped up into her hairline. “The one at the yacht club?”
“One and the same. Do you wanna go?”
“Sure. Yeah.” Mia paused and then shot him a look. “Do you want to go?”
The moment seemed to stretch out forever as she waited for his response. Until, finally, Travis shrugged his broad shoulders and replied, “Could be fun.”
Awash with joy, she leaned in to kiss his cheek and whispered, “I think it’s gonna be a good summer.”