Chris sits down in an Adirondack chair and gets comfortable. “I’m beat from cleaning the kitchen.”
Grant circles his arms around Charlotte when she drops down into his lap, her enthusiasm winning the battle of wills. “Mom, please. Pretty please. It’s been forever since you played.”
Outnumbered, Elizabeth unwillingly takes the guitar from me.
“They say it’s like riding a bike.”
“That’s not what they say,” she replies, looping the strap over her head and removing the pick.
It doesn’t escape my notice how her hands tremble when she strums a few chords and adjusts the tuning pegs. After a minute and a few deep breaths, she begins, falters, and begins again.
“Sorry. It’s been a long time.”
“Mom, you’ve got this.”
Elizabeth gives her daughter a tremulous smile. Letting the guitar hang, she shakes out her hands, then repositions her fingers on the fretboard. The notes are soft as she begins to play, melding into the night like a song carried by the breeze. I don’t recognize the melody, but apparently Charlotte and Chris do as they quietly hum along. And then Elizabeth closes her eyes, opens her mouth, and the most beautiful sound comes out as she sings.
I always wondered why she didn’t do more with her music. She’s so talented, her musical ability a God-given gift. She could have had record companies crawling through fire to get her tosign with their label. But fame, money, the jet-setting lifestyle—those were never her thing. She once told me in Barcelona that music was her connection with her dad. It was as simple, and as sentimental, as that.
She opens those soulful light-green eyes, her gaze landing on me, and the world collapses around us until we’re the only two people in existence. As the final melody fades away, happiness splits her face, the magnificence of it detonating like a bomb inside my chest.
I cross the short distance to her. Surprise flashes in her eyes when I slide the strap on her shoulder to move the guitar out of the way. Her breath hitches when I draw her in, and for a second, we stand suspended in the quiet hum of the night summer air. Then I kiss her—slow, deep, and unshakably sure.
“Close your mouth, Chris. I’m going to be kissing your mom a lot.”
Elizabeth buries her face in my chest and dissolves into giggles.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, a sharp vibration against my thigh, and I pull it out with a glance. “It’s just Xander. Let me see what he wants.”
“Tell him hi,” Elizabeth says.
“Will do.”
The wood logs crackle, sending embers floating into the twilight air, their glow flickering before fading out. Walking to the other side of the firepit for a little privacy, I call him back. He picks up on the first ring.
“Found him.”
A ripple of tension scores through my body, my grip on the phone crushing. I exhale slowly through my nose, forcing my face into something unreadable when I notice Elizabeth watching. “You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s him.”
Fuck me.
“Send me the info.”
“Just did.”
I hang up and read his text message when it pops up on the screen.
Goddammit.
“Everything okay?” Elizabeth asks, but the tiny furrow between her brows says she caught my scowl.
I tuck the phone away like it hasn’t just derailed my entire night. “Everything’s good, but there’s something I need to take care of that can’t wait.”
Something.The word tastes too much like a lie.
“But it’s almost ten,” she says forlornly but doesn’t press. “I’ll walk you out.”
