The promised ten minutes later, she sauntered into the kitchen. Ryan was on the phone.
“Julia and I needed to talk,” he said into the phone. “We intend to catch the loop bus to meet the others at the café near the club before we start work. Yeah. Say hello to your parents for me. I’ll see you on Monday afternoon.”
On seeing her, he disconnected the call, his gaze taking in her tight blue jeans and her favorite black tunic top that made the most of her curves. She hadn’t bothered with much makeup—just a swish of mineral powder and a clear lip gloss. Her hair was in a high ponytail, imminently practical for work.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” His compliment brought a rush of pleasure because the heated glow in his eyes told her it was genuine.
“You can move in,” she said before she could rethink her decision. “There’s a spare bedroom. I want to take things slow.” She intended to work long hours anyway. She wouldn’t spend much of the next two weeks at her apartment.
“You won’t regret it.” Ryan wanted to shout out in exhilaration but held himself in check. This was his last chance—his only chance—and he didn’t want to blow it. Nerves simmered in the pit of his stomach, much the same as the ones he experienced seconds before walking on stage for a gig. She’d given him an opening, and it was up to him to make sure his plan succeeded.
They walked into the café together almost half an hour later. Julia paused in the doorway, scanning the interior until she found her friends.
“Do you want another coffee and something to eat?”
A baby cried at a nearby table, and Julia winced, looking away with a moue of distaste. Normally he liked kids, but the unhappy cries pushed the tingles of a beginning headache into low gear. “Julia?” he prompted.
“Another latte and two sandwiches to take away,” she said, lifting a hand to wave at her friends. “It looks as if they’re nearly finished. They won’t want to wait for us.” She turned away before looking back at him. “Make sure you get something to eat. Something fattening. You can’t afford to lose any more weight.”
The baby stopped crying, and Julia sent a quick glance in that direction. The tension that slid from her shoulders echoed in the reactions of the people sitting at the next table.
“Coffee and sandwiches it is.” Ryan grinned and headed for the counter. She’d paid attention to him and cared enough to worry about his health. He spied Caleb arriving and tilted his chin in recognition.
Caleb joined him as Ryan perused the selection of food. “What are you smirking about?”
Ryan knuckle-bumped with his friend, delight at his wife’s concern still tickling him. “Julia is worried about my weight loss. What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might want your guitar and music before I left.” Caleb checked to see if anyone might overhear him. “I told you she sneaks glances at you when she thinks you won’t notice. Was she okay about you turning up this morning?”
“She’s letting me move into the apartment with her.”
“Way to go!” Another knuckle-bump ensued.
“I’m in the spare bedroom,” Ryan said. “But it’s a start.”
“Good going. Are you working on our arrangements this morning?”
“Yes. I didn’t get around to asking Julia how much she wants to charge us for rehearsal space.”
“We can help her with some of her renovation work. I wonder if she’ll let me help with hiring the dancers.”
Ryan let out a snort. “Good luck with that.”
With coffee and sandwiches in hand, he and Caleb wandered over to the table of friends. It was almost like hanging out with the band given the energy pulsing through the air and the sense of solidarity. The positive vibe was addictive, and for the first time in months, Ryan experienced normal and grounded instead of drifting outside himself. Obviously his heart had known something—someone—was missing even if his brain remained clueless.
“Caleb brought my guitar and music before he heads off to Tauranga.” Ryan edged around the table so he stood by Julia.Sick puppy. But now he’d found her again, he was only comfortable when he was near her. No doubt a psychologist would have a ball dissecting the confidence.
“I’m finished.” Susan pushed her partially eaten plate away. “I can’t eat all this if I want to look good for the reality show.”
“You’ll need the energy,” Julia said. “I intend to work you hard and crack the whip if you slacken. And then I’ll start the dance training. You said you wanted to learn, right?”
And work them, she did.
Exhaustion dogged Ryan’s steps during the late afternoon. He and Julia’s friend, Connor, had spent most of the day preparing the walls for painting, perched on ladders and removing the heavy velvet curtains.
“That’s the last one.” Connor dropped the red velvet, and it crashed to the ground with a huge cloud of dust. He sneezed before climbing down the ladder.
