Page 33 of Hideaway Heart

“Once or twice when I was in the Navy. I was stationed in San Diego for a while.”

“Okay, so those are all your siblings. What about Austin’s wife?”

“He’s not married. The mother of his kids lives in California, and they visit her once a year. He’s raising them on his own, although hedoeshave a new girlfriend. They just met earlier this summer, but honestly, I think she’s the one.”

Kelly perked up. “Really? Why?”

I told her the story of how Veronica had shown up on my brother’s doorstep in a wedding gown, stranded and broke, fresh from walking out on her wedding to a cheating bastard, desperate to convince him she’d make the perfect nanny.

Kelly listened with rapt attention. “This sounds like a song! And he fell in love with her right then?”

“Hell no. He thought she was nuts. I had to talk him into giving her a chance.” I tipped up my beer. “As usual, he was wrong and I was right.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you were.”

Our food arrived, and Kelly picked up her burger and took a giant bite. “God, this is good. It’s exactly what I wanted. This whole night is exactly what I wanted.”

My chest swelled as I reached for the ketchup bottle and offered it to her. “Want some?”

She shook her head. “I can’t eat ketchup anymore. When I first moved to Nashville, there were nights all I ate were ketchup packets for dinner.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I used to steal them from the bar I worked at. I’d go home and make soup with them—a little sugar, some water, stick it in the microwave, then drizzle it with a stolen coffee creamer and, if I was lucky, I might even have a pilfered package of oyster crackers to go with it.”

“Times must have been tough when you were starting out.”

“They were.”

“Did you ever think about giving up?”

“Sure.” She ate a French fry. “A few times I even packed my bags. Called my mom and begged her to send me money for a bus ticket home. But she always talked me into staying. She believed in me. That helped.” She popped another fry in her mouth. “Then I got a manager who believed in me.”

“Still, you had the talent. I mean, youhavethe talent.”

She shrugged. “Tons of people have talent. I’m not an idiot. I don’t think I’m the best singer that ever walked the earth. I just...I understand people. I can read a room—even a huge room—and I know how to make a person feel like I’m singing just for them.”

I studied her across the table, thinking that it also didn’t hurt she was so fucking pretty. I remembered the way she’d sung in the car, soft and low, and wondered about other sounds she’d make in other settings, such as a bedroom where she was naked and sprawled beneath me, my body moving over hers.

Quickly, I picked up my beer, looking away as I drank.

What was the matter with me? It was this damn dry spell. I normally didn’t go so long without sex, but there hadn’t been anyone in my bed since I’d moved home. Between living with my dad, wanting to avoid small town gossip, and working so much, I hadn’t really had the opportunity. Maybe once these two weeks were up, I’d remedy that.

But messing around with Kelly was out of the question. It would break all kinds of personal rules and violate the trust her brother had placed in me.

I needed to keep my thoughts clean and my hands to myself.

* * *

We finished our meals and a second round of beers, and when the check came, I reached for it.

“You don’t have to buy my dinner, Xander,” Kelly said, trying to tug it out of my hands. “This isn’t a real date, remember?”

“I remember,” I said, winning the battle and holding it out of her reach. “But even on a fake date, I pay for dinner. Consider it a perk.”

Her head tilted. “Any other perks I should know about? Massages? Manicures? Maybe a bedtime story?”

“No,” I said emphatically, sliding my credit card into the holder.