Page 42 of Stormswept Colorado (Hart County #3)

THIRTY-SIX

Teller

I could kiss Ayla like this all night. All month.

For the rest of my life.

But her friends were waiting for us in the dining room with dessert. Even though the sweetest thing in the world was already here in my arms.

“We should call Ollie next,” she said.

“Yeah, he’d love that.” My nephew had a little crush on her. “We’ll make it quick.”

Ollie was excited to hear from us, getting shy when Ayla asked him questions. Piper said hi as well. Ayla was bubbly with smiles and happiness as we talked to them, and hell, so was I. The glow in my sister’s eyes suggested she could see it.

Ayla was supposed to be with us. Part of our family as much as she was part of the O’Neals’. It felt so obvious to me now.

After ending the video call, we returned to her guests, socializing for another hour or so.

I enjoyed seeing Ayla in this new context with her LA friends.

She seemed a little hesitant with them, like these friendships were still new.

She’d told me how difficult it could be to find true friends given her fame.

How people had betrayed her in the past. I was proud of her for letting Hayleigh, Ricky, and the others into her life, despite the fact that she’d been hurt before.

Of course, I was also scrutinizing her friends in my own way. Making sure they deserved her. They were completely different from me in almost every way, but they had good hearts and good intentions.

And hey, they seemed to think I was an okay guy too. Imagine that.

After they left, we confirmed with the security team that we were in for the night. I went around to double-check that all the doors were secured. No more interruptions tonight.

I looked forward to having Ayla all to myself.

The more stubborn parts of my brain drifted back toward Silver Ridge. I was used to worrying about the town’s residents. My sister and nephew. I was used to them needing me. It took some faith to trust that other people in Silver Ridge could step in and take my place.

But Ayla needed me too. And with her, I wasn’t okay with being replaceable. I intended to be her number one.

There were a few dishes left, so I rinsed while Ayla loaded the dishwasher. A simple domestic task that I enjoyed sharing with her.

Then I placed her in front of me, with her facing the kitchen island, and massaged my thumbs into her shoulder muscles to work out the tension of the day. Her head lolled back. “That’s nice. Should we go to bed?”

“Soon.” But there was something else I’d been wanting. “I enjoyed hearing you sing with Maisie. I’d love to hear more.”

That four-letter L word kept slipping into my sentences. Making it obvious how I felt. I wanted her to know, and at the right moment, I planned to tell her.

For a few beats, she didn’t say anything. Her profile appeared as her head swiveled to see me. “You want me to sing for you?”

“I can think of few things that would please me more. Only if you’re up for it. If not?— ”

“No, I’m always up for music.” Her eyelashes splayed shyly as she smiled. “Yeah. I’d like that. Let’s go downstairs to my studio.”

We held hands down the open-riser staircase to the lower level. The house followed the shape of the cliffside, so we didn’t lose the ocean views. I spotted the counter where I’d taken her just a few hours before, and a flare of desire heated my insides.

I wanted her again. But I let that simmer. We had all night.

The sun had set. Moonlight danced over the waves below.

There was a cozy, open sitting area with a grand piano and a half dozen guitars, some acoustic and some electric. Beyond, through a glass door, there was a soundproofed booth with a microphone and recording equipment.

Ayla selected an acoustic instrument and sat on a stool, one foot propped on a wooden rung. Her guitar draped gracefully over her lap. I took a seat on the couch opposite her.

“Do you invite a lot of people here?” I asked as she tuned the strings.

“Hardly any. I could probably do more of my recording here, but I tend to be choosy about who I bring home.”

“I feel special.”

“You should. What shall I sing for you?” she asked coyly.

“Whatever you like.”

“This was your idea.”

Hell, that flirty tone of hers went straight to my cock. She knew the kind of power she had in this position. And I loved seeing that confidence in her. She deserved every bit of success, every accolade, and more.

“How about the song you were working on in Silver Ridge? How’s that going?”

She shifted on the stool. “It’s not finished yet. But I can play what I have so far.”

Her fingers moved over the strings. She started to sing.

And instantly, I was gone . Pulled into her orbit like a satellite around the sun .

Time seem to stand still. Was my heart even beating? Definitely a few skips.

I’d heard her sing countless times in recordings. Heard her sing in person before too, even today. But nothing, nothing , compared to the experience of Ayla singing directly to me.

Some people seemed to think they were entitled to pieces of her. Paul, her more zealous fans, the stalker—they believed they owned her. Didn’t they see the gifts Ayla gave to the world with every note and lyric?

I had to catch my breath when her fingers left the strings.

“See?” she said. “Not quite finished yet. But it’s getting there.”

“That was…beautiful. You’re unbelievable. Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Thank you for listening.”

She set the guitar aside and crossed to sit next to me. I turned my body and put my arm out, trying to fit her as close as possible against my side. “I’m already a super fan. I have been for a while.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate.”

“Not kidding. I’ve memorized every one of your songs. All your albums are downloaded on my phone.”

“Not just on your workout playlist?”

“On all my playlists. And I’ve watched all your music videos. But only around a thousand times.”

Ayla belly-laughed, and my entire body glowed with satisfaction. I loved making her laugh. Making her happy.

“I’m glad you like what I do,” she said. “That means a lot.”

“You should be so damn proud of everything you’ve accomplished, sweetheart.”

“About that. I like when you call me sweetheart. But what happened to calling me Troublemaker?”

“You’re that too. My Troublemaker.” My lips brushed the tip of her nose.

“You’ve shaken up my whole world. I never thought I would have this.

Someone like you.” I didn’t mean her physical beauty or the fame or anything material that came along with it.

I meant that inner light that shone from her.

Drawing me in. Showing me, in sharp relief, everything I’d been missing.

“Neither did I.” She touched my face, her gaze every bit as adoring as mine.

This was the moment. It felt right. I had to make sure she knew what I felt.

“Ayla, I love?—”

She jolted away like a spooked rabbit. Frightened eyes stared back at me.

Shit. Not the reaction I’d hoped for. It had been obvious what I was about to say.

“Is it too soon?” I swallowed my disappointment.

“No, I… I just…”

Before I knew it, a tear streaked down her face like a falling star.

“Hey,” I murmured. “What is it?”

“I need to tell you something.” Her voice shook. Whatever this was, she was already broken up about it.

Like she’d been holding it in for too long.

“You can tell me anything.” I pulled her fully into my lap, Ayla straddling me. Scooting my hips forward on the cushion, I reclined so she could rest her weight against me. Getting as comfy as possible.

It was a solid minute before she spoke again, her face hidden against my shoulder. “I’m a liar.”