Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Austin
Wiping stray breadcrumbs left behind by my BLT from my fingertips onto my now empty plate, I eye my guitar case leaning against the tiny two-seater couch on the other side of the office.
I’m not sure what compelled me to bring my guitar with me today.
Well, that’s a lie. I know exactly what—or more accurately who—inspired me to pick up the instrument I’ve been neglecting these past few months.
The way Cassie came to life on stage reminded me how much I love playing.
While I may not be interested in following the advice of my mum and friends about finding someone to pursue a romantic relationship with, I’m not too proud to admit they’re right about me.
I have become stuck in my ways—I just couldn’t see it before.
I’ve been so focused on the bar that I’ve let almost everything but my weekly game night with the guys slide away until that and work is all I have left.
It’s warm in here even with the small fan in the corner switched on—one of the downsides of a windowless office. I left my flannel overshirt draped over the back of my desk chair before starting my shift, but even without it I’m still too hot.
Since watching Cassie perform on Saturday night, I’ve been unable to ignore how much I miss having music in my life.
Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing I’m struggling to ignore.
I’m attracted to Cassie and—after what happened in this very office—I think she might be attracted to me too.
Who knows what would have happened if Mei hadn’t walked in?
Would we have stopped at a kiss? I’d like to think so.
Even a kiss between us wouldn’t be smart.
I’m her boss. She’s only here for the summer.
Why start something knowing there’s an end date?
The trouble is I don’t feel smart around Cassie.
I feel… too much. Too intrigued, too invested.
Shaking my head at myself, I cross the room and open my guitar case. The weight of the instrument in my hands is familiar, like hugging an old friend I’ve not seen for too long. The chocolate-brown leather of the small sofa creaks as I settle in.
The guys said I should consider a fling with Cassie—hell, she even suggested as much herself on Saturday, or at least a one-off night of fun, but I’m self-aware enough to know I couldn’t do that.
Not with her. Somehow, in the short time I’ve known her, she’s got under my skin.
I’ve done the casual thing before and it’s been fine, if a little unfulfilling in the end.
With Cassie, I’d be at risk of wanting more, and more with her would only end in disappointment.
She’s got secrets. She’s a wanderer. Fucking talented, too.
Someone who shines as brightly as she does isn’t made to stay in a town as small as Pine Grove.
Cassie might be happy here for now, but sooner or later she’ll want to move on, to share that light with another corner of the world.
I don’t begrudge her that, not one bit, but I don’t want to get involved and be just another thing she’ll eventually leave behind.
I’m out of practice, so it takes slightly longer than it used to for me to tune my acoustic guitar by ear, but I manage it. My left hand easily forms the familiar shapes of the chords to one of my favourite songs, and I strum gently with my right.
Cassie’s working today, but it’s been busy enough that there’s been no time for us to talk aside from exchanging quick hellos.
If she wants to talk about what happened on Saturday, we can, but unless she brings it up, I’m happy to move on like nothing happened, and really, nothing did happen, did it?
Anyone would think I’m a clueless kid fumbling his way through his first crush rather than a thirty-two-year-old man, given the way I’m replaying the kiss that almost was in my mind and overthinking the potential ramifications.
I take a deep breath, refocusing on the feel of the instrument in my hands.
My worries will still be here when my break is over.
For the next twenty minutes, I plan to lose myself in some of my favourite songs.
Aria jokes that I always listen to ballads sung by men with a lot of feelings—she’s not entirely wrong.
Too often men are told they’re weak for expressing their emotions.
Listening to my favourite artists reminds me that’s not true.
It takes a brave individual to share their feelings and insecurities.
If my favourite musicians are brave enough to turn theirs into art that will be shared on a global scale, then I can be brave enough to be open with my friends and family.
The tightness in my chest loosens with each chord change, and I close my eyes, letting the music soothe me.
Lost in the song I used to play for Aria whenever she got sick when we were kids, I take longer than I should to realise I’m no longer alone. The moment my eyes open, they zero in on Cassie’s slight frame in the doorway.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just…
” Pink stains her usually peachy cheeks as she trails off.
“I was on my way to get napkins from the stockroom when I heard you playing. You’re very good.
” She says the last part almost accusingly, as though I’ve been purposefully hiding my musical talent from her.
I huff a laugh. “Hardly. I get by, but I’m nothing special.” Not like the woman in front of me.
She shakes her head, stepping into the office for real. “False modesty doesn’t suit you.”
I bristle at that. “Nothing false about it.”
Cassie cocks her head, blue eyes scanning my face, assessing. “Hm. Apparently not. I guess I didn’t expect you to be self-conscious. You’re usually so confident to the point it would almost be annoying if it weren’t so admirable.”
Inviting herself in, she perches on the arm of the tiny couch I’m occupying.
It’s the closest we’ve been since the last time we were alone in here.
The scent of jasmine and green apples tickles my nose when she absentmindedly flips her hair over her shoulder, making me want to edge closer despite being mildly irritated by her unprompted character assessment.
“You think I’m annoying?” I ask, my brows shooting towards my hairline.
She smirks. “I said almost.” Her expression turns serious. “Believe me, I’ve spent enough time around musicians to know skill when I see it. You’re talented, Austin. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Thanks.” Pushing aside the irrational jealousy I feel over Cassie spending time with random musicians, I decide to reciprocate her attempt at friendly conversation.
“I’m a little rusty. Most of my attention has been on the bar lately, but your performance on Saturday reminded me how much I enjoy playing. ”
Baby-blue eyes sparkling with delight, she gives an exaggerated gasp, hand to her heart. “Austin Bowman, are you saying I, the bane of your existence, inspired you?”
Unimpressed with her antics, I give her a flat stare.
She giggles, then takes a deep breath, sobering. The toe of her trainers lightly taps against my shin. “I’m glad you’ve started playing again. It’s important to make time for the things you love.”
Our eyes meet, and the silence that follows makes it hard to breathe. Our unspoken agreement not to discuss what happened between us on Saturday leaves the air thick with tension in the resounding quiet.
Cassie clears her throat. “When did you start learning to play?”
“When I was ten—Thomas at the B&B taught me.”
She smiles. “Esther mentioned he used to teach. Apparently he stole her heart with a song he wrote just for her.”
“I believe it.” That man’s got charm to spare, and he adores his wife. “Have you ever written a song for anyone?”
“No. People like to speculate, but all my love songs were inspired by the kind of love I hope to find one day.”
“People?” I ask, head cocked.
Her eyes widen. “You know, after gigs and stuff. Sometimes I hang around for a bit afterwards to chat with people. It’s one of the questions that always comes up. ‘Who’s the song about?’” There’s an edge of panic to her voice that I don’t understand.
“OK. Maybe I’m just not the curious sort, but I wouldn’t have thought to ask who your songs were about if I didn’t know you.
It’s not like they’ll know the person you’re singing about.
” That doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in knowing who inspired the original song she played on Saturday night, but that’s different.
Cassie and I are… friends now. It’s only natural for me to want to know who hurt her so badly.
I find it hard to wrap my head around why strangers would care who her love songs are about unless…
A light bulb goes on in my mind. “Are you from a small town like Pine Grove?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Afraid not. I’ve always been a city girl, though I’m beginning to see the appeal of small-town life.” Her smile is small, and there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes as if we’re sharing a secret. “So, did you keep up your lessons all through school?”
I shake my head. “Not quite. My dad left when I was eleven and we couldn’t afford them anymore, so I stopped for a while.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry.” She reaches out to lay a sympathetic hand on my arm.
“We were better off without him,” I assure her.
Cassie doesn’t need to know how hard it was at first. How much responsibility I had to take on.
“Anyway, when I started secondary school, I would pick Aria up from the primary school, then we’d walk over to the B&B and hang out there for a bit in the afternoon while Mum worked.
Thomas and Esther had a soft spot for us.
They made sure we got a snack and did our homework, then Esther would keep an eye on Aria and the front desk while Thomas gave me a free half-hour guitar lesson in the dining room.
We stopped our lessons after I turned sixteen and started working at Bowman’s after school instead, but I kept playing. ”
“I’m glad you did. You’re a real talent.”
I raise my brows, showing my scepticism.
Not having any of it, Cassie locks her gaze with mine. “Hey, I mean it. You have a gift, Austin.”
Taken aback by her intensity, it takes me a couple of heartbeats to find my voice. I swallow thickly. “Thank you.”
Her head dips slightly in approval. In this moment, she’s not an employee who’s eight years my junior.
She’s a woman knowledgeable in her chosen field, sharing her informed opinions with someone who has considerably less experience.
I may have been playing for years, but I’ve never performed for anyone other than Thomas and my sister.
Cassie knows what she’s talking about, and she’s not the type to give false compliments.
If she says I’m good, then I’m good. Warmth fills my chest as I look at her.
Something intangible passes between us, and I reconsider bringing up what almost happened between us the other night.
Without warning, Cassie hops to her feet, a bright smile pasted onto her face. “I should grab those napkins before someone thinks I got lost back here.”
Before my brain finishes processing her words, she’s gone. Something unnervingly close to disappointment trickles into my bloodstream. The guys are right. I need to get out more if I’m so easily turned inside out by a beautiful woman and a sincere compliment.
Shaking out my hands to dispel any lingering sense of…
whatever confusing cocktail of emotions Cassie’s interruption has left me with, I take a centring breath then refocus on my guitar.
There’s enough time for me to settle my nerves by playing one more song before I need to get back out to the busy bar.
The bite of the metal strings beneath my fingertips is barely noticeable thanks to the callouses I’ve developed over the years, but the sensation grounds me all the same.