When he’d been in college with Owen, California had been home for him. For some reason, she’d assumed that was still the case. But now that he’d mentioned Florida, she had noticed his Ferrari had Florida license plates.
“Is that home for you?”
“It’s where I spend most of my time when the band isn’t touring, so I guess it’s home.”
His response raised more questions than it answered, but she wasn’t going to dig any deeper, because if she did, he might do the same.
“And if I weren’t here with you, I’d most likely be sitting out here eating ice cream and reading.” Matt placed his ice cream on the table and draped his arm across the back of the love seat.
Much like his earlier statement about them joining her friends for karaoke, his answer now surprised her. But maybe it shouldn’t. Orchard Harbor was known for many things, but its exciting nightlife wasn’t one of them—a fact that suited her fine, but she imagined it might grow old to Matt.
“What do you like to read?” She’d always been a fan of historical fiction and fantasy, although she did have one romance author who she really enjoyed reading. In fact, she owned every novel she’d written to date. Unfortunately, the author didn’t release books often.
When his thumb brushed against her shoulder the first time, she assumed it was an accident. But then he did it again, and a ripple of excitement started in the center of her chest and spread. It’d been a long time since she’d experienced anything remotely close to what she felt now, and she hoped Matt didn’t move his hand anytime soon. Then again, maybe it would be for the best if he did before she started to get any ideas that Matt Sherbrooke was interested in her, because while rock stars might fall for small-town girls in the movies, it didn’t happen in real life, which didn’t bother her in the least.
Yep, keep telling yourself that, and eventually you’ll believe it.
“Mostly suspense. My favorite contemporary author is Curt Hilton. But occasionally I go for a fantasy novel like The Lord of the Rings.”
She’d seen Curt Hilton’s books in her aunt’s bookstore but had never read one of them. As for The Lord of the Rings, she’d both read the books and seen the movies. While the movies were great in her opinion, she enjoyed the books more.
“I pegged you as more of a romance novel junkie.” Liv managed to contain her smile.
“Seriously? Why would you think that?”
She’d only finished about half the ice cream that Matt had given her, but there was no way she could eat another bite, so she put her bowl next to his. “I read somewhere you write a lot of the music for Eclipse, and you’ve got some seriously romantic ballads. I bet couples use them as their wedding dance song. Since you’re so good at writing romantic songs, I thought maybe you enjoyed romance novels. Maybe even used them for inspiration.”
Matt changed the angle of his body slightly and moved his hand from her shoulder to the back of her neck. “I’ve never touched one. But maybe I should. Are there any authors you suggest?”
“The only romance author I’ll read is Lynn Kurland.” Later, she’d regret this question, but she was going to ask anyway. “How do you come up with the lyrics, then?” She’d taken a creative writing class in high school because she needed another English credit, not because she enjoyed it or had a creative bone in her body, unless it involved creating a new recipe.
His fingertip skimmed across the skin on her neck, setting off internal fireworks to rival those the town set off on the Fourth of July.
“Jordan and I write about 50 percent of the lyrics together, including a lot of the songs you’re thinking of. I know Jordan drew on some personal experiences for some. For a few, I did too, but sometimes I visualize a scene in my head, and it plays like a movie. Then I turn that into a song.”
She couldn’t picture Jordan Mead, the band’s bass player, writing the lyrics to “Loving You” or “If I Had You.” Then again, the old saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” existed for a reason.
“You and Jordan wrote ‘Loving You’ together?”
Matt’s lips slowly descended toward hers, allowing Liv plenty of time to move—not that she had any plans of doing that.
“No, I wrote that one.” He brushed his lips against hers. “But we did work on ‘If I Had You’ together.” Once again, he brushed his lips against hers, only this time they lingered slightly longer. “Jordan wrote ‘Our Last Dance.’”
Matt touched his lips to hers again. Only this time, it was anything but brief, and as he deepened the kiss, he teased her lips with his tongue until she opened for him.
And as if someone had snapped their fingers, the outside world disappeared. At that moment, the only thing she was aware of was the sweet taste of coffee ice cream that lingered on his lips and the feel of his hand buried in her hair.
The instrumental opening to “Loving You” echoed in the distance, and for half a second, Liv wondered where the music was coming from. When she realized it was her phone, she pulled away, unsure whether she should be thanking the device or cursing it.
She waited for him to comment on her ringtone. Instead, he skimmed his fingers over her shoulder and across her arm. “Do you need to answer that?”
“I’ll call whoever it is back.” After kissing Matt, her brain wasn’t capable of carrying on an intelligent conversation with one of her friends.
Reaching for her hand, he laced their fingers together. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
“I’m covering Maggie’s lunch shift.”
“What time are you done?”
