Page 14 of California Love Songs (The Davenports, #4)

Chapter Nine

W hen Damien arrived at Crystal’s house, she was waiting outside, ready to go in navy athletic shorts that showed off long, tanned dancer’s legs, and a pink T-shirt with a dance logo on the front.

A dark pink baseball cap shaded her eyes, and she’d threaded her ponytail through the hole in the back of it.

She looked both athletic and feminine as she smiled at him, waving hello.

Pointing at her wristwatch, she said, “One-thirty exactly! I don’t know how you do it.”

Damien laughed. Everyone loved to tease him about his timekeeping, but he had an instinct about time. He was never early or late, but always exactly on time. “It’s my superpower,” he said with mock modesty.

“It’s going to be gorgeous on the trails. I’m so glad you suggested a hike.”

“I need to get some exercise after all that food,” Damien admitted. “Those family breakfasts seem to get bigger every time I show up.” He patted his belly, although he knew there wasn’t a stomach bulge in sight. He ate too clean and worked out too hard.

Crystal’s eyes traveled to his abdomen and a shiver went through him as he imagined her hands gliding across him. He crossed his arms over his stomach.

She said, “I think that as the family grows, your mom wants to include everyone. So she gives out food-prepping jobs when really there’s already enough to feed a small army.

But she sure knows how to make a newcomer feel welcome.

” Crystal looked down, almost as if she was feeling shy, which was crazy, since they’d known each other forever.

Then her whole face transformed as she smiled.

“She’s always been like a second mom to me. ”

Damien’s heart warmed. He loved and admired his mom so much and he appreciated how she’d always welcomed their friends into the family, encouraging playdates and sleepovers when they were young.

“And I don’t have to tell you that you’re part of the family,” he reminded her. This was one of the perks of spending more time in Carmel—seeing both his family and Crystal. He’d missed them both more than he’d realized.

They got into the fancy sports car he’d splurged on after his first record went platinum, and he fired up the engine, excited to drive up the winding hill road to his favorite hiking spot, Garland Ranch, where his teenaged self had loved to take long hikes and scribble song lyrics in his worn notebook.

When they reached the regional park and he’d turned off the engine, he turned to Crystal. “I’ve missed hiking here.”

“I’m not exactly hardcore. Let’s hope I don’t disappoint,” she replied with a laugh that seemed to dance in the air between them as they set off together.

Crystal could never disappoint him. And how like her to downplay her own athleticism. She did have a dance studio in her house, after all.

The park was busy on a Saturday, but Damien soon led them to a less used trail, and one that quickly had them climbing.

Crystal might not think of herself as hardcore, but she was keeping up just fine.

He breathed in deeply, enjoying the scent of the trees and the sound of a river running nearby.

“Isn’t this better than planning my sister’s wedding? ”

Crystal shot him a playful look. “Actually, I’m planning right now. I have all my best ideas when I’m walking.”

“Same,” he mused, recalling how the lyrics to his first hit had been penned during a three-hour hike. He’d practiced endlessly on the beach with his guitar, but often the lyrics came to him while he was walking.

Looking at the horizon, Crystal said, “Have you thought about writing a love song for Mila and Hersch? It would be perfect for their first dance.”

Damien kicked at a loose stone in the path, sending it skittering ahead. “A love song, huh?” he mused, his reluctance clear in his tone. “That’s not really my style, Crystal. You know I don’t write love songs.”

“Come on,” she pressed, nudging him gently with her elbow. “You wrote one for Archer and Tessa. Mila will expect a song.”

Crystal was right. What had he been thinking? Writing “Colors of Love” had happened naturally as he watched Archer and Tessa fall for each other, but he hadn’t counted on being expected to write a song for every sibling. He wasn’t a damned love song factory.

She didn’t mention that “Colors of Love” had become a huge hit, which he appreciated. He didn’t need his nose rubbed in it.

“Admit it, you’ve got a soft spot for romance.” Her tone was teasing, yet there was an undercurrent of certainty, a belief that she knew him better than anyone. Which was true.

As they walked, Damien found himself wrestling with the idea, his thoughts wandering to melodies and lyrics that might capture the essence of love.

And somehow, every line he conjured felt as though it was meant for Crystal—her laughter, her grace, the way she moved through life with such purpose.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, the internal realization hitting him like a chord struck too hard.

He wasn’t just considering a song for Mila and Hersch. Deep down, he knew that if he was going to write a romantic song, it would be for Crystal.

The realization sizzled through him like an electric current, and for some time he was silent, lost in the strange but not unpleasant sensation. Finally, he told her he’d think about it, but not to make any promises to Mila.

They walked on and again Damien inhaled deeply. “There’s something about this place that always pulls me back.”

Crystal glanced at him, her face glowing with exertion, a few strands of dark hair curling around her face. “It’s your roots. No matter where you go, Carmel—the beach, the valley, the hills—will always be home.”

He nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle around him. She was about to speak again when he noticed she was headed for a rocky ledge she clearly hadn’t seen.

“Watch the—” But before he could finish, her foot caught on an uneven stone, and she pitched forward with a small gasp.

In an instant, Damien’s arms were around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Her body tensed, then relaxed as she realized she was safe.

She turned around and their eyes met, and for the space of a heartbeat, the world seemed to pause—two friends tangled in a moment that felt far more intimate than either of them had anticipated.

“Thanks,” Crystal whispered, and he wondered if her flushed cheeks were from more than the exertion of the hike.

“Always,” Damien murmured, slowly releasing her but not stepping back right away. They stood close—too close—the sound of a nearby bird crooning to them.

As if sensing the need to break the tension, Crystal cleared her throat and smoothed out her shirt. “Well, trying to get back with a broken ankle would definitely have made this hike memorable.”

“Memorable, dangerous—same thing,” he joked. He took a step away, giving them both space to regain their composure.

They set off again, the charged moment ebbing away with each step, yet he couldn’t shake the sense of closeness it had brought. She felt so good in his arms. Too good. Had it simply been that he hadn’t had a girlfriend in a while?

No, that wasn’t it. These feelings were deep and intense. It was so much more than craving intimacy. It was craving Crystal.

He needed to get back to the easy friendship they’d enjoyed in high school, when he’d come home and find her and Erin doing homework at the kitchen table, his mom cooking dinner and supervising. They’d both been so smart. So studious.

“I was just thinking about how serious you were in high school,” Damien said after a while, his voice slicing through the quiet. “You wanted to be a doctor. Erin was always going to be a writer, but you were headed for medicine.”

Crystal chuckled, a lighthearted sound that didn’t match the sad expression in her eyes. “Yeah, Dr. Lopez, saving lives one patient at a time. That was the dream.”

Her smile was breezy, but behind it lay a shadow that Damien had learned to recognize—a dream deferred, tucked away but never forgotten.

“Is it still something you think about?” he prodded gently, watching her face for any sign of the passion she held for that unfulfilled ambition.

“Sometimes,” she admitted with a shrug, walking around a wildflower along the path. “But life has a way of reshaping dreams, doesn’t it? Look at us now—I’m orchestrating I do ’s, and you’re composing romantic anthems.”

Damien gave her a wry smile. He hadn’t yet agreed to write a song for Mila, but that was Crystal all over—optimistic and stubborn. More gently, he said, “Maybe some dreams are worth chasing, no matter how life tries to rewrite them.”

She was silent. He hoped she felt his subtle nudge for her to reconsider what might have been.

Crystal shifted her weight as she navigated a tricky elevation and then adjusted her baseball cap to block the sun’s strong afternoon rays. He sensed that she was about to say something difficult.

“You know, after my dad left, everything changed for Mom and me. The dream of medical school became a luxury we couldn’t afford, even with the scholarship. I had to help out with the house payments and my little brother and sister. I had to get a job.”

Damien exhaled. He’d never realized that she’d become a party planner out of necessity rather than as a life choice.

She moved forward again, her gaze fixed on the path ahead.

“I started waitressing for an event planning company and when things went wrong—and something unexpected pretty much always happens—I had a knack for finding a solution, smoothing things so that the client never even knew there was a problem. After a while, the company owner promoted me to junior planner. Instead of just helping out with bills at home, I became the main breadwinner. It was supposed to be temporary, but I had a knack for it. Before I knew it, I was building a career.”

“Sounds like you made the best of a tough situation.” Damien hoped his tone was even and reassuring, though his heart had plummeted at the thought that Crystal’s life hadn’t panned out the way she’d wanted it to.

“Maybe,” Crystal mused, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance.

“But I’m proud of what I’ve built. When the owner retired, I took over the business and expanded.

My business—it’s about giving people happiness on their most important days.

Making a wedding extra special, or a birthday memorable. That counts for something, right?”

“Of course it does,” Damien agreed, his eyes locking with hers, earnest and intense. “But that doesn’t mean you have to give up your dreams. Look at me—I’m thinking about starting over as a jazz musician. Everyone’s going to think I’m crazy.”

“Not me,” Crystal said quickly. “Look at Sting, nominated for a Grammy for Best Jazz Instrumental. And Paul McCartney wrote an opera .”

Damien raised an eyebrow. He’d never heard that opera and figured there was probably a reason why. But he wasn’t going to let Crystal deflect that easily. “Well, I can definitely see you as Dr. Lopez.”

“Easy for you to say,” Crystal countered, half-serious, half-playful. “You’ll be transitioning from one kind of music to another. I’d be changing professions completely and looking at years of training.”

He laughed, because that’s exactly the thought he’d just had about her. “But what if medicine is still your passion?” Damien challenged. “You’re one of the most determined people I know. If there’s even a part of you still wanting to pursue it, then why not explore it? You owe it to yourself.”

“Damien, it’s been years since I dreamed of being a doctor. I’ve got responsibilities, clients…” She trailed off, but in that pause he could see she was caught between the pragmatic and the possible.

“Responsibilities can be managed. Clients will understand. And if they don’t, they’re not worth your time. Crystal, I’ve seen you work miracles for those clients. Imagine what you could do for patients, for the world.” More gently he added, “If that’s what you want to do.”

His words hung between them. A challenge wrapped in encouragement. For a fleeting moment, he enjoyed watching as she allowed herself the luxury of a what-if. But then her expression changed and reality, like the roots that crisscrossed the hiking trail, brought her back to earth.

She shook her head, the ponytail swishing across her back. “Let’s focus on getting down this mountain without breaking our necks, okay?”

Damien was surprised at how quickly she turned all business again.

But that was Crystal: capable and outrageously organized—even when it came to controlling her own hopes and dreams. He understood her reluctance to consider the possibility of change.

Of course he did—he’d just gone through the whole agonizing process himself.

And he’d decided that yes, change was good.

It was needed. And he had to follow his dream of writing jazz music and taking a step back from the merry-go-round tour life he’d been living all this time.

Even if it felt weird and filled him with self-doubt, he was committed to trying something new. He wanted the same thing for Crystal.

More than anyone he knew in the world, she deserved to live her dream.

He surveyed the beautiful vista before them and realized that the only thing more gorgeous was Crystal herself. The thought went through him like a lightning bolt as his brain found the words. There is no one more beautiful than Crystal Lopez.

Had he really been blind all these years?

He used the landscape as an excuse to regain his composure, shielding his eyes against the sun and taking deep breaths of the pine-scented air.

Exhaling, he knew that he would have to play things carefully.

He couldn’t risk jeopardizing their friendship just because he’d suddenly noticed she was hot.

Nor could he push Crystal to make changes in her life until she was ready.

“All right. But this isn’t over, Dr. Lopez. Not by a long shot.”