Hearing my words echo around in my head made me cringe. Why had I said that? Although true, it didn’t mean it needed saying. And it was way too revealing for a guy trying to stay distant from people. I didn’t ever have to feel the kind of pain I felt after Dana left me.
The bar got busy around eight with a group of softball players in for beer and burgers after a game. Regardless, Seraphina and Tyler were never out of my sightline. Tyler ordered a burger and fries, his mother a salad with extra chicken. The two of them talked throughout their meal. I caught snippets of Tyler describing a moment at baseball practice. Seraphina laughed a few times at something he said. And that laugh? It was a magical sound that sent goosebumps up my arms, like I was hearing the opening notes to a poignant song. Maybe a cello’s G note, open and resonate, pulling the listener from the ordinary to the ethereal in a half note.
I was clearing the table next to theirs, just adjacent, purely coincidental, when Tyler looked up from his mostly finished dinner.
“Hey, Hunter. I have a question for you,” Tyler said.
Oh so casually, I wandered over. “Yeah? What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been wondering if you ever teach guitar lessons? I’d really like to take some.”
Guitar lessons. Okay, didn’t see that one coming. “Um, no. I haven’t in the past.”
“Any chance you’d give me an hour a week?” Tyler asked. “I know you’re like a big deal and everything, but I’d love to learn as much as I can from someone like you. You could come to our house. Whenever it was convenient for you.”
“You can say no,” Seraphina said.
I turned my attention toward her. She met my gaze, her green eyes bright and vulnerable. She didn’t like her son asking me for something. My gut told me she didn’t take favors, especially from men. Fiercely independent, this one. I liked that. She wasn’t a woman who needed anything from a man. She could do it all on her own and had. Traces of Seraphina’s strong-willed nature seeped into her fictional heroines. I’d never thought about it before meeting an author, but this one appeared to be exactly like her books—complicated, independent and smart.
“I don’t know if I’d be any good at teaching,” I said. “But sure, why not give it a try? Just don’t mention it to anyone else. I’m not really open for business, so to speak.”
“Are you here in Willet Cove for the foreseeable future?” Seraphina asked.
“I guess so.” Her question took me aback. What exactly did she know about my personal life? Hopefully nothing. I was well-known in Nashville circles, but outside of that it was rare to find anyone who even knew who I was. Or how many hit songs I’d written over the last decade. Or about my public divorce from one of Nashville’s own. “Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. You have a transient quality to you,” Seraphina said.
“Transient?” I asked, not sure if I should be offended or not.
“Like you’re here but not for long,” Seraphina said.
“Mom, that’s none of our business.” Regardless of what he said, Tyler watched me carefully, clearly curious about the enigmatic bartender.
“How did you find Willet Cove?” Seraphina asked before I could answer. “Had you been here before?”
“I have good friends who live here,” I said, despite my natural instinct to protect myself at all costs. “After some … hard personal stuff back in Nashville, they suggested I come stay with them for awhile.” I lowered my voice, glancing around the bar, but no one seemed to be paying the slightest attention. “I was supposed to be writing songs. Getting rid of my heartache through my work.”
“And?” Seraphina asked.
“And I haven’t been able to write. First time in my life that’s ever happened.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” Seraphina said. “I didn’t know that happened to songwriters too.”
“Yep. This one anyway.”
“I’m sorry about your heartbreak,” Tyler said. “But don’t great songs come from it?”
“Not this one apparently,” I said, wryly.
Both mother and son were hanging on my every word.
“Some heartbreaks are like that,” Seraphina said. “Suck the air right out of you. Steal your muses. Leave you gasping for breath while curled in a fetal position. Making you doubt you could ever write about love again because you’re not even sure it’s real”
Tyler and I both stared at her.
She smiled, flushing, her freckles more evident than the moment before. “Or something like that anyway.”
Mesmerized, I smiled back at her, forgetting for a moment that anything existed other than the two people at this table. “Exactly like that.”
