Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harper
S he couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. She had sung. She had actually sung in front of Logan, and she hadn’t fainted or thrown up like the last time she’d tried to sing in front of an audience.
One person isn’t an audience.
Harper willed the little voice to shut up. It didn’t matter to her that she’d sung in front of only one person. She’d sung . And damned if she wasn’t going to ride that high as long as she could.
She gave a little squeal, her cheeks hurting from how wide she was smiling, and leaned across the center console to kiss Logan.
Something dug into her side, but she didn’t care. Her hands framed his face, the stubble of his ever-present whiskers soft under her fingers as she cupped his cheeks, drawing his face closer to hers.
“Thank you,” she said softly, before pressing her lips against his in the briefest of kisses. Thank you, the kiss said. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for listening to what I wasn’t saying. Thank you for?—
Another knock at the window had Harper jerking her hands away.
“Are you two going to stay in there kissing all night?” Rowan’s amused voice was muffled from the glass.
At least he had the presence of mind to knock on Logan’s window this time and not Harper’s. She scowled at him and mimed walking away with her fingers. He grinned and pulled a face.
Harper shook her head and rolled her eyes.
Was this what it would have been like to have a brother?
“We don’t have to go.” Logan said, ignoring Rowan, who was miming kissing as if he were thirteen and not in his thirties.
Harper leaned forward to look around Logan’s wide shoulders, catching sight of Rowan as he turned his back to them and wrapped his arms around himself, pretending to kiss an invisible partner.
“He’s always like this, isn’t he?”
Logan didn’t even look over his shoulder before he answered in a dry voice. “A clown? Yeah.”
What must it have been like for Logan, growing up with a twin who stole all the attention? Is that why he focused so hard on the football field?
Harper scooped up her bag, gripping the handle in a fist with white knuckles. Singing with Logan had helped. A lot. But she wasn’t there yet.
One sing-a-long in a parked truck did not erase her fear. Her stomach flip-flopped as she reached for the door’s handle.
She could do this. She didn’t need to sing. She could just sit there and watch like she had the week before. It wasn’t as if anyone would push her with Logan next to her.
And she knew, without a doubt, that he would be there next to her if she asked it of him. She huffed out a breath and stepped out into the salty evening air.
While they had been sitting in the truck, the sun had slowly dipped toward the horizon, bathing the landscape in an orange glow.
Harper took a moment to pause and take in the view. There was a lot to like about Cape Wilde. It was going to be hard to leave.
“Ready?” Logan stepped up to her shoulder, Rowan on his far side.
“What do I have to lose?” She joked.
Logan nodded, but didn’t smile and the omission landed somewhere in the middle of her chest. What did she have to lose, anyway?
She’d lost everything already. Hadn’t she?
Logan and Rowan started walking toward Wilde Brews’n’Blues, the sound of laughter and music drifting toward her on the salty breeze.
A few steps ahead, Logan stopped and turned back to look at her. He tucked his thumbs through his belt and waited, one eyebrow cocked in question.
Why did she feel so torn up inside? She knew she was doing the right thing… Didn’t she?
Her eyes met Logan’s and her breath caught.
Harper pushed aside her doubts, pasted a saucy grin on her face, and sashayed toward him.
They made their way into the bar, choosing a table at the back of the room. Harper took her time looking through the selection of songs, even though she knew what she would sing. The flipping kept her hands busy and hid how much they were shaking.
Logan gripped her knee under the table, stilling her jiggling leg.
Oh god. What was she doing? She couldn’t sing in front of all these people.
Logan leaned toward her, his lips brushing her ear. “You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove.”
She turned to look at him, their noses so close they brushed. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. The comforting aroma was exactly what she needed.
She didn’t have to do this, but she wanted to. Harper felt like she was on the precipice of a major change. Like she had been climbing slowly to the top of the roller coaster ride and was now looking down at the stomach-dropping ride to come.
She opened her eyes, feeling like she was drowning in his green gaze.
“That’s where you’re wrong, big guy. I need to prove it to myself.”
He grunted and shrugged, pulling back. “Alright. I’ll be here if you need me.”
“Well, aren’t you two all cozy.” Cassie plopped herself down on a spare chair, her brown hair swept up into a messy bun on top of her head, a bright scrunchie holding it in place. A pencil was stuck through the middle of the bun. She still had her navy blue scrub pants on and an oversized bright pink tee shirt with a cartoon cat on the front and the words “stop kitten around” in glittery gold.
Logan passed his sister a glass of wine and she raised her hands as if praying and looked up to the darkening sky.
Harper laughed. “Busy day?”
“You’ve no idea. Let me tell you—” And then she was off, telling a story that had Harper in stitches about a mischievous cavalier King Charles spaniel called Pavarotti that was afraid of its own bark.
As more people began to take turns singing, Harper realized she wasn’t pretending to enjoy herself anymore. She liked these people. She liked this bar. She was actually having a good time.
“Having fun?” Rowan leaned around Logan to talk to her, one arm draped over the back of the empty chair next to him.
“Yeah, I am.” She smiled, not missing the way Logan’s hand twitched where it rested on the table. He grabbed his beer and took a swig.
“You going to sing?”
Logan swallowed, barely managing to cover his mouth before he coughed. Rowan thumped him on the back. Logan groaned.
“Come on, man. Don’t drown on me!”
Logan rolled his eyes and shrugged his brother off, earning him one more thump on the back. Harper smirked.
“You want another drink?” Logan asked.
Harper glanced down at the wine glass in her hand, surprised to find it empty. “Huh. Yeah, thanks. That would be great.”
Logan grabbed his brother by the back of his shirt and hauled him out of his seat. “Hey! I’m fine here.”
“No, you’re not,” Logan practically growled, pushing Rowan in front of him as they headed to the bar.
Harper bit her lip, not sure what to make of the overly protective Logan.
“That was neatly done.”
“Hmm?” Harper turned to Cassie. “Sorry?”
“The way Logan made it so you didn’t have to answer. It was neatly done.” Cassie eyed her over the rim of her wine glass. “Don’t you think?”
Harper blushed, her cheeks heating. Was that what he’d done? Diverted attention so that Harper didn’t have to answer Rowan?
She glanced at the bar where the two brothers were talking, a half-smile on Logan’s face as he listened to his more extroverted twin gesture with his hands as he spoke. Logan turned his head as if sensing she was watching him and lifted his chin in acknowledgement, his smile widening briefly before he turned back to his brother.
“He’s a real loner. At least usually.”
Harper nodded. “I figured as much.”
Cassie tilted her head to one side, a brown curl slipping from her bun to trail over her neck. “He didn’t used to be.”
Harper sat a little straighter in her seat. “Oh?”
Seeing she had a captive audience, Cassie leaned forward, her forearms resting on the rough wood of the table. She looked one way and then the other, as if she were about to tell Harper a deep secret she wanted nobody to overhear. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but?—”
Harper scowled and leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “So don’t tell me then.”
“Don’t tell her what?”
Rowan sat down heavily in what had been Logan’s chair, but landed on the floor a second later when Logan kicked the chair’s legs out from under him.
“Boys!”
Amy approached the table, a scowl on her face. Unlike the first time Harper had met her, she wasn’t dressed for gardening. Instead she was wearing a pair of fashionable jeans and a sparkly turquoise tank top that showed off her tanned arms.
Amy noticed Harper looking at her top and did a small shake, making the sequins sparkle in the lights. “Do you like it? I got it today at the new dress shop in town.”
“There’s a new shop?” Cassie was immediately questioning her mother about it.
“You work too much, Cassidy love.” Amy smoothed a hand over Cassie’s hair, plucking the pencil from her bun with a frown. “It’s all anyone’s been able to talk about for weeks.”
Logan broke into the conversation, saving his sister from further interrogation about her lack of work-life balance. “Singing tonight, mom?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it.” She frowned. “I need to show up Eva.”
Amy turned toward the stage, a fierce expression on her face.
Harper shot a questioning glance to Logan, whose lips were twitching. Cassie covered her mouth with her hand, faking a cough. Rowan found himself another chair and was sipping his beer, oblivious.
“I’m going to put my song in. Anyone else ready?”
Cassie jumped up. “Sure, what the hell?” She linked arms with her mom and the two of them made their way to the stage to put their requests in.
“Do I want to know?” Harper asked out the side of her mouth as she leaned closer to Logan. She picked up her wine glass and twirled the stem in her hand, watching as the pale liquid swirled in the glass.
Logan snorted. “She has this rivalry with a friend of hers over a song.”
Harper’s eyebrows shot into her hair. “Sorry, what?”
“Yeah,” Logan laughed at her expression. “They both try to get in first to get the song. Neither one of them will sing anything else but this one song.”
“What is it?”
“Jolene.”
Harper’s curiosity was piqued. “So… Why does it matter if someone else sings the song?”
Logan turned to look her full in the face. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
She pulled back with a gasp, eyes wide. His lips pressed together, and he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m sorry, that was low.”
Harper shook her head. “No, you’re right. Plenty of artists don’t write their own songs.”
So why was it such a big deal to her dad that Isla look like she had written her songs? And what had that to do with Harper performing? It made no sense.
Her dad had a lot of explaining to do.
She could sing. And she wasn’t going to hold herself back any longer.
Harper pushed herself to her feet and walked to the stage as if pulled by a magnet. The sound of the singing and the voices of the patrons drifted away.
She approached the stage where Cassie and Amy had gone to choose their songs. A slim man in his early twenties was seated at a small folding table behind a laptop. He looked like he’d stepped out of an eighties hair metal band. His straight black hair hung past his shoulders, blending in with the black band tee shirt, tattoos the full length of both arms starkly black against his pale beige skin.
“Yeah? What song?” He didn’t look up as he spoke, typing into the laptop and clicking away at the mouse.
A statuesque redhead in a black body con dress walked up the short set of stairs and onto the stage. She plucked the microphone out of the stand and turned to face the crowd. Someone whistled and shouted encouragement and the woman’s cheeks turned pink.
“Do you want to sing or not?”
Harper whipped her head back to the guy behind the laptop. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Do you have ‘I Will Always Love You’?”
He lifted one eyebrow and looked her up and down. “Are you sure?”
All the noises of the room came back in a rush. Harper straightened and stared him down. “Why?”
He coughed and looked to one side. “You know that’s Whitney Houston, right?”
Harper crossed her arms over her chest, but before she could open her mouth Logan was at her side.
“Just let her choose her song, Simon.”
The guy—Simon—looked between Harper and Logan. He shrugged, and turned back to his laptop. “Name?”
“Harper.”
He tapped a few more times on the keyboard and then looked up. “You’re next.”
What, she couldn’t have heard that right. Next? She thought she’d have at least a few minutes to get herself ready. What happened to all the others who had put their names forward?
“What?”
“Didn’t Logan tell you?”
Harper shot a look from Simon to Logan. “Tell me what?”
“Newbies always go straight to the front of the line. Less chance of chickening out that way.”
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch his smirking face or vomit. Both maybe?
Logan’s hands landed on her shoulders, and he ducked his head to meet her eyes. “Are you ok?”
She nodded, not sure she could speak past the lump in her throat.
The woman on the stage finished her song, and waved at her friends in the audience.
It was now or never.
Harper’s face paled, her hands twisting in the hem of her tee shirt.
“You don’t have to do this.”
Her eyes snapped to his. “I know you’re trying to help, Logan. But I want to do this.”
His eyebrows shot up so high they disappeared under the lock of hair that flopped over his forehead.
She shook her head. “I’m nervous, yes. But I can’t spend my whole life hiding and wishing. I need to do this.”
Logan nodded and smiled. “Alright. Show them what you’ve got.”
She gave a nervous laugh and placed one foot on the steps that led up to the stage. Harper remembered an old trick she’d used when she had performed as a kid. Pick one spot in the audience and focus on it. Logan had found an empty chair at a table to the front of the stage, so she focused on him. He sat, denim-clad legs spread wide, and arms crossed over his broad, flannel-covered chest and met her eyes.
Whatever happened, he’d be sitting right there the whole time.
The stairs could have been a tightrope over a canyon for how hard Harper’s heart beat as she put first one foot and then the other in motion.
When she got to the top, she chewed on her bottom lip and glanced at Logan. Rowan had pulled up a chair by his shoulder, Cassie on his other side.
She felt a rush of emotion for the Wests. They’d seen how big a deal this was for Harper and were adding their support to Logan’s.
You can do this.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to approach the microphone. It was too low, so she adjusted it to the right height with shaking hands. A screech of feedback had the crowd groaning and their attention shooting toward the stage. Harper froze.
Oh god. Oh god. They’re all looking at me.
The seconds ticked by, Harper’s wide eyes darting around the room as her heart pounded in her chest. And then the soundtrack kicked in through the speakers.
Harper’s eyes jerked to Logan’s and her near-panic eased as he gave her a small smile and a nod. He would be there the whole time.
Harper hummed along with the music, not paying attention to the screen with the lyrics that lit up in time to the music. She took a deep breath, turned to smile a shaky smile at Logan and then closed her eyes.
The familiar notes washed over her. She’d chosen this song because it reminded her of her mom. It was one she would sing in the shower when she thought nobody was listening. Harper would stand in the hallway listening as her mom poured her heart into the lyrics.
And now Harper did the same. She was vaguely aware of the dead silence that hung over what had been a noisy dinner crowd, but she kept her eyes closed.
She could feel Logan’s reassuring presence. She didn’t want to risk breaking the spell that had her finally on stage after what had been more than ten years of never singing a note in front of anyone other than her sister.
Her heart settled into a steady rhythm, and she let herself get lost in the music. Swept away, it was only in the final notes of the song she opened her eyes. Logan could have been the only person in the room, as she immediately locked gazes with him.
She’d done this for herself, but she’d also done it for him.
“I’ll always love you.”
She broke off, the backing track fading away leaving her in stunned silence. Logan slowly stood and began clapping, the rest of the room joining in.
A warm glow filled her chest. Is this what it felt like to Isla when she sang to packed stadiums?
“Thank you,” she said into the mic, and turned to leave the stage.
She practically bounced the entire way back to Logan, throwing her arms around his neck and squealing in excitement.
“I did it!”
He chuckled, his arms wrapping around her. “You did. I’m so proud of you, princess.”
She smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. It had been so long, she’d forgotten how good it had felt to sing like that.
“You’re going to do amazing.”
She pulled back, her smile dropping and an eyebrow quirked. “At what?” She laughed, but it sounded forced even to her ears.
Logan cleared his throat. “I mean, there’s nothing holding you back from performing now, is there?”
Harper’s arms slid from his neck, the bubble of happiness bursting and a flood of uncertainty making her stomach tighten.
He was right. For so long she’d told herself that writing songs for Isla was the only way her work would ever be heard. Because she couldn’t perform.
But what if that wasn’t true?
She really needed to talk to her sister.